Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (5 page)

‘Won’t you be with Luke?’

That was a strong hint about where his duty lay. ‘I’ll see him in the morning, but I’m sure he’ll be tired and want a rest in the afternoon.’

‘Okay, then. We could meet up. What would you like to do?’

Leaving the rooftop behind, the noise of hospital life surged back again, but Jack was only dimly aware of his surroundings as he and Emer made plans for the next day.

One – pause … two – pause.
Luke hauled himself along the hospital corridor, crutches first, then his aching legs. A sharp pain from his ribs accompanied every movement. His heart was hammering. Half an hour to get this far. The afternoon would be over at this rate. He glanced at the signs on each of the doors he passed. Finally, the one he wanted. If she wasn’t there, he’d have to collapse outside and wait. He managed an awkward knock.

‘Come in.’

Could she not have come to the door and made his life a bit easier? He fumbled with the handle, the crutches making it difficult to reach. He couldn’t open it so knocked again.

‘That’s taking politeness too far …’ Emer said, opening the door. ‘Luke! Don’t tell me you came all this way on your crutches?’

‘It seemed a doddle when I started out – two days ago,’ he joked.

‘I do make house calls, y’know.’

‘I needed the exercise.’

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Sit yourself down. I’ve just made some tea.’

Luke collapsed onto the sofa, the crutches falling untidily onto the floor. The pain in his ribs was a killer. Perhaps he wouldn’t be up for this trip after all.

‘I’ve broken out the ginger creams in your honour,’ said Emer, a moment later, handing him a cup of tea with two biscuits on the saucer. She propped his crutches against the wall before sitting at her desk.

He liked her office. Toys in one corner. Books everywhere. Photos on the wall – her family maybe. Lots of plants.

‘So, how’s things?’ she asked, sipping her tea.

Terrible. Traumatic. Sleepless nights filled with pain and memories. Best not to say any of that, though. He’d sound like a whiner. ‘Jack Stewart asked me to go home with him.’

‘And how do you feel about that?’

‘He doesn’t want me. He’s just askin’ out of guilt.’ The man hadn’t even looked at him when he’d suggested it. Going to Wales with his mam had been one thing. Going to England as good as alone was something else.

‘I don’t think you know Jack well enough to guess his motives.’

‘I’ve heard plenty about him. I know what he is and what he’s done.’ Luke hated sounding so angry. So bitter and childish. But it wasn’t his fault.

Emer set down her cup. ‘That’s just hearsay. Things other people have told you.’

‘My mother’s not “other people”.’

‘Of course not. I didn’t mean that, but you should hear Jack’s side before you decide what to do. Before you close any doors.’

She didn’t understand. It was the Stewart family who’d closed doors. Years before. Slammed them in his mother’s face. He’d seen the evidence with his own eyes.

‘I just want to help, Luke. I don’t want to push you.’

He wished she would. It would be easier if someone could make all his decisions for him. ‘You
can
help me,’ he said. ‘It’s why I came. Can you take me to see my mam?’

She was silent. He prayed she wouldn’t let him down. He couldn’t manage it alone.

‘Don’t you think Jack should be the one to take you?’

‘No way! I wouldn’t ask him for anythin’.’ There he was, raising his voice again. Just the thought of Jack Stewart made him lose it.

‘I’ll have to clear it with your doctor first.’

He sat there while Emer made the necessary calls. This was going to be hard. Part of him wanted to remember his mother the way she was, but he’d regret it if he didn’t see her. This was his only chance to say goodbye. It was the right thing to do, and he was glad Emer would be with him.

‘If you’ll come this way, Mr Kiernan.’ It took a moment for Luke to realise the receptionist was talking to him. ‘Mr Kiernan’ meant his grand-da or his uncles, not him.

‘I’ll be right here, Luke,’ Emer told him, settling in a chair at reception. ‘Take your time.’

Now he was actually in the McBride Funeral Home, Luke felt less confident about his decision. What if it was really bad? What if the accident had wrecked his mother’s face? Joe’s friend had crashed his motorbike into a tree and no one could recognise him at the wake. Imagine that being your last memory of a loved one.

‘Just press the button by the door if you need anything, sir.’

The receptionist left Luke in a room with cream walls and high windows. The open casket was at the far side with imitation candles at both ends. Flowers banked the bier. Luke approached the coffin slowly, focusing on the crucifix on the wall. How had it come to this? Her life ended on a stupid country road. Such a waste. So unfair. He stopped by the coffin, took a deep breath, and looked down.

‘Oh Mam!’ She could have been sleeping, but for the cut down one side of her face.
Please God, let her open her eyes. Bring her back. Just bring her back. Don’t make me go through life without her. Please.
The pain of loss was worse than all his injuries. And there was guilt, too. They’d had to leave Ennis because of him. He’d made a mistake and she’d paid for it. He had a lump in his throat, but no tears came. He hadn’t cried in years. He’d learned not to.

Someone had twined a set of rosary beads through Annie’s fingers. Not her rosary, the little silver one. That was still in the suitcase. He should be saying a prayer for her right now. Helping her soul to heaven.
‘Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,
’ he whispered. ‘
And let … and let
 …’ He couldn’t finish. He knew the words, just couldn’t get them out. What was wrong with him? He tried again, a different prayer.

‘Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,

Our life, our sweetness, and our hope.

To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve …’

Banished.
His mother had been banished by the Stewarts. Rejected. Not good enough for them. A well of resentment was building inside. He tried to push it back down. This wasn’t the time or the place. These were the last few precious moments with his mother. He needed to focus on her. Somehow he managed to lean down and kiss her cold cheek. ‘Bye, Mam. I love you.’

He’d miss her all the days of his life, but she was finally at rest after years of suffering. That was some small consolation. Now he wanted revenge. He wanted chaos. Wreckage. And he wouldn’t rest till the towers of the Stewart family came crashing down.

‘Jack Stewart, please.’

Emer swirled the wine in her glass as she waited for the hotel receptionist to put her through to Jack’s room. It was after nine – hopefully he wouldn’t be sleeping. She wasn’t even sure she should be calling him, but Luke’s expression when he came out of the room at the funeral home had worried her. It was as if the trauma of the accident had hit him again with full force. His face was pale and his eyes hollow. Haunted.

‘Hello?’ Jack’s voice came on the line.

‘Hello, Jack – it’s Emer.’

‘Emer! I hope you’re not going to cancel tomorrow.’

She couldn’t help smiling to herself. It’d been a while since anybody had made her feel wanted. ‘No, we’re still on,’ she told him. ‘I just wanted to update you on Luke.’

‘Oh.’

Emer wished he didn’t sound so disappointed. His negativity towards Luke was, so far, the one thing about him she didn’t like.

‘I took him to the funeral home this afternoon. He asked me to go with him so he could say goodbye to his mother.’

There was silence at the end of the line.

‘Jack – are you there?’

There was a long sigh. ‘I wish he hadn’t gone. Surely that’s the last thing he needed. Couldn’t you have stalled him until I had a chance to speak to him?’

She could have. Perhaps she should have, but Luke was an adult who had to be allowed to make his own decisions. ‘I think he would have gone anyway. I preferred to be there in case he needed me.’

Silence again. Emer sipped at her wine, and waited.

‘I suppose he was upset afterwards,’ Jack finally said. ‘Probably hated me afresh all over again.’

Emer bristled. ‘It wasn’t really about you, Jack. It was about Luke and his mother. And yes, he was upset. He was very pale when he came out. And very quiet. No tears, but he was shaken. I asked the nurses to keep a close eye on him.’

She’d spoken sharply and Jack might be offended. That would be unfortunate, but she was only doing her job. Luke was a young man in a world of pain and she’d do all she could to support him.

‘Thank you,’ said Jack, but there was still an undercurrent of frustration in his voice.

‘You know,’ Emer said, ‘beneath that tough façade, I think Luke’s crying out for affection – for someone who cares.’

Jack gave an ironic laugh. ‘I must have missed that somehow. In between his throwing things and calling me a bastard.’

Emer wanted to shout
Get over yourself!
but held back. ‘Luke’s obviously built a defensive wall around himself. Can’t you understand that? Every time you get into a confrontation with him, he builds the wall higher. Give him time to adjust. Support him whenever you can. And don’t, for God’s sake, criticise him for going to pay his respects to his mother. Promise me you won’t do that tomorrow.’

‘Of course not!’ exclaimed Jack. ‘What kind of a man do you think I am?’

It seemed father and son shared a bit of a temper. As did Emer – her father used to call her a spitfire when she’d give out about some perceived injustice. Time to take things down a notch now, though, or they’d all get nowhere fast. ‘I think you’re a generous man at heart. A kind man. And I’d like Luke to see that side of you. As I said, just be patient. You’ve both got a funeral to get through – you’ll need all your strength for that.’

‘The funeral.’ All the fire had suddenly gone out of Jack’s voice. ‘I’ve put off thinking about that. I’ll ask Luke tomorrow if he wants it to be in Ennis or here in Dublin.’

‘Travellers like to be buried in a place they’ve known. You could … no, I guess not …’ She stopped herself. It was a mad suggestion.

‘What were you going to say? … Emer?’

‘Well, just that if Luke goes home with you to England, you could bury Annie there.’

There was silence. She’d probably overstepped the mark. It was none of her business really.

‘Luke will likely veto that idea but I’ll run it past him anyway,’ conceded Jack.

He was making an effort, Emer could see that. Jack’s life had also been turned upside down when the past had come back to haunt him in a shocking way. Perhaps she should cut him some slack.

‘So, do you still want to meet tomorrow?’ she asked. ‘Or have you had enough of my bossiness?’

‘I’ll be there,’ he promised. ‘But I might be wearing a bulletproof vest.’

Emer laughed, relieved she hadn’t scared him off. It wasn’t everyone who would take on a straight-talking woman. She’d tone it down a bit tomorrow, though.

Tuesday morning. Three days since Jack had arrived in Dublin. It seemed longer. He was eating breakfast when his mobile rang: Emer.

‘Jack – can you come to the hospital?’

He caught the urgency in her voice. ‘Has something happened to Luke?’

‘No, he’s okay,’ she reassured him. ‘But the Guards have just turned up to interview him. They’re in the waiting room while he’s having some tests. I told you how upset he was yesterday. I think he needs some support, a family member in his corner … This is important, Jack.’

God, they’d be raking over the accident. All the details about the car crash. Could Jack cope with that? ‘Can’t you …’

Emer hung up without saying goodbye. Obviously pissed off with him. Great.

Jack pushed his breakfast aside and grabbed his coat. He’d only been about to say
Can’t you put them off for today?
Emer, though, probably thought he was suggesting she take Jack’s place during the police interview. Now their afternoon could be spoiled because of this.

Not for the first time, he cursed Luke Kiernan.

Luke assessed the two Guards standing in his hospital room. The usual double act. Introduced themselves as though that made them individuals, but they seemed like all the other Guards he’d met. They generally despised Travellers. Assumed they were all crooks and troublemakers. Didn’t give a damn about the decent ones. Only regular folk got respect and protection.

Like that night, some ten years ago, when his Uncle Joe was knocking Annie about … again. Luke had quietly called the police from the hall phone. The Guards didn’t turn up till the next day, and when they did, they brought a search warrant and ransacked the house, looking for stolen goods. Any excuse. They eventually looked at his mother’s bruises, asking if she wanted to press charges, but of course she’d said no. They made a comment about her child being worried, which landed Luke in it good and proper. Joe had gone mental because the police had been called and later he bashed Luke’s head so hard against a wall that blood ran from his ear. He couldn’t stand up for a week without feeling dizzy.

It was a lesson. The authorities were added to Luke’s growing list of people not to trust. No one was going to help him or his mother. They were on their own, and it was down to him to look after her. Fine job he’d made of that.

The older of the Guards, Sergeant Connolly, spoke. ‘We have a few questions about the accident, Luke.’

‘Mr Kiernan,’ he muttered. Typical. Not even asking if they could call him by his first name. No words of sympathy about his mother, either. His jaw clenched.

‘If you’re up to it, that is,’ said Byrne, the second policeman. He pulled up a chair and took out a notebook and pen.

Luke almost laughed aloud. Like they cared if he was up to it.

Byrne flipped some pages, found the one he wanted, and read out the details. ‘Luke Kiernan from Ennis? Aged twenty, born 28 October …?’

Luke stayed silent.
Let the bastard work for it.

‘Is that correct?’ prompted Connolly.

‘Yeah. I’ll expect a card then, will I?’ No response. They’d clearly had a sense of humour bypass.

‘Address?’ Byrne asked.

‘No, just a card’ll be fine. I’m not into women’s clothes.’ His uncle always said his smart mouth would get him into trouble, but these condescending gobshites deserved it. Oh well, if they hit him, he was in the right place.

‘Confirm your address for us, son,’ said Connolly slowly, as if he thought Luke might be simple.

‘I’m between places right now.’

‘Really?’ said Byrne. ‘According to our records, your address is 42 Carnlough Street, Ennis.’

‘So why ask me? But like I said, I’m between places. I left Ennis.’

‘No fixed abode, then.’ Byrne was obviously happy to have something to write down. ‘So where were you and your mother headed?’

‘None of your business!’ snapped Luke. ‘We were in a crash. My mother’s dead. End of story.’

‘Not quite,’ said Connolly. ‘We need to establish the cause of the accident. What do you remember?’

‘Nothin’.’ And that was true. Dr O’Meara had told him he might never remember those last few minutes of his mother’s life. Something about trauma affecting memory. Maybe it was for the best. Remembering might be worse.

Byrne came to life again, reading from his little black book. ‘The driver of the truck you collided with said your mother was driving too fast.’

Maybe. Luke recalled the journey. Darkness. Silence in the car, apart from the swish of faulty windscreen wipers. Had it been Annie’s fault? The rain
was
interfering with her vision, and she
was
driving fast because a traffic jam had held them up. They had to catch the last ferry to Wales. Waiting hours for the next one was too risky. If Joe and Liam had followed them …

‘Had she been drinking?’

‘She fuckin’ had not! She never drank. Don’t you dare say that about my mother or …’

‘Luke! Don’t get yourself upset.’

That was all he needed. Jack Stewart poking his nose in. Mind, he’d wanted to punch that policeman which wouldn’t have been the best move.

‘Good advice,’ said Connolly, ‘because that temper got you in trouble once before, didn’t it, Luke?’

That hadn’t taken long, then. Jack seemed to be ignoring the comment, though, and came to stand by his chair. Probably expected it.

‘My wife’s blood tests revealed no traces of alcohol. As I’m sure you already know.’

‘Your wife?’ said Connolly.

The look of surprise on the Guard’s face was a treat.

‘Yes. I’m Jack Stewart. Annie was my wife, and Luke is my son.’

Jack’s hand on his shoulder made Luke cringe, but it was a great performance so he’d put up with it.

‘We’re both deeply distressed by what’s happened, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate. Luke has told you all he knows. He needs to rest now.’

Jack moved to the door and held it open. The policemen glanced at each other then headed out, but Connolly fired a parting shot. ‘One other thing. The car your mother was driving was registered to Joseph Kiernan of the same address. A relative, I presume?’

‘Not much gets past you, does it?’ Luke hoped his sarcastic tone masked his growing panic.

Connolly scowled. ‘We’ve left a message for him to get in touch. He’s got several outstanding parking fines. Why don’t you jog his memory about them?’

It wasn’t the smug look of satisfaction on the man’s face that made Luke feel sick, but the knowledge the police had been trying to track down Joe. It was unlikely the Guards would find out his uncle’s whereabouts from any Travellers, but if word somehow got back to them about the accident, Joe might well turn up here at St Aidan’s. Mad as hell, and swinging his fists. Then Luke would have a lot more than a damaged knee and bruised ribs to worry about.

After the door swung shut behind the Guards, Luke turned to Jack. ‘When can we leave? Tomorrow?’ It hurt his pride to have to go along with Jack’s idea but he needed an escape route.

‘You want to come to England?’ Jack looked surprised. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Tryin’ to talk me out of it already? Don’t worry, it’ll only be till I can manage by myself.’

‘I’ll have to check with the doctor to make sure you’re fit to travel,’ said Jack.

‘If you don’t get me out of here soon, I’ll discharge myself.’ Luke meant it, even though trying to make it on his own wouldn’t be easy. But he’d do it if he had to.

Jack nodded. ‘I’ll arrange the earliest flight home I can.’

Home. Where was home now? It had only been Ennis because his mother was there and she needed him. Most of the time it felt like prison. Now he belonged nowhere. He’d go with Jack Stewart to England, but he wouldn’t belong there either, among people who’d made his mother feel worthless. Still, part of him wanted to meet the rest of the Stewarts. To see the shock on their faces, the panic in their eyes when they thought he’d be staying around. It would be worth going just to see that.

‘Luke?’

What now? Couldn’t the man just leave him in peace?

‘We need to discuss the funeral.’

He’d wondered about that. Supposed Annie would have to be buried in Dublin since nothing on God’s earth would drag him back to Ennis. Travellers preferred to be buried in earth that had known them and Annie hadn’t known Dublin that well, but there was nothing he could do about that. She should have had the full works, surrounded by friends and relatives, not a quick ceremony in some unfamiliar church, mourned only by her son, with her no-good husband there for show.

‘I have a suggestion,’ said Jack. ‘We take Annie back – bury her in the family plot.’

Jesus, he surely wasn’t serious. ‘England? Where she was treated like dirt.’

‘Maybe she was – by some. But what’s the alternative?’ asked Jack. ‘Bury her here and then leave her? I know Matt will want to pay his respects, and so will Maggie, my housekeeper. It would give Annie a decent send-off – a proper goodbye.’

Luke was out of his depth. He’d never organised a funeral. Wouldn’t know where to start.

‘Your mother used to attend our local Catholic church,’ said Jack. ‘We could hold it there.’

Luke considered it for a moment. At least there would be more than two mourners. It was probably the best that could be done. Reluctantly, he nodded.

‘What about the rest of your family, friends?’ Jack asked. ‘Do you want to contact anyone?’

‘No. There’s no one who matters.’ Actually, there were plenty who mattered, especially Jessie. But he couldn’t risk it because of the two who didn’t.

All this talk about funerals was too much. It reminded Luke his mother was really gone. He felt tired in both body and spirit, and no longer independent but lonely and needy. ‘I said goodbye to her yesterday,’ he whispered. ‘To Mam.’

‘I know. I can understand you wanting to, but I’m not sure you’re strong enough yet to cope with something like that.’

Was that concern? No matter how hard Luke tried to fight it, he craved comfort and protection. If Jack had hugged him then, offering safe, fatherly arms, he wouldn’t have resisted. But it didn’t happen. Jack was glancing at his watch.

Luke bit his lip. He hadn’t given him any encouragement, so maybe Jack didn’t want further rejection. More likely though, he just didn’t care. In a moment of weakness, Luke had let down his defences. It wouldn’t happen again. The bitter reality was that as far as the Stewarts were concerned, he was unwanted. He looked at his father, trying to glean some resolve from reawakening the resentment he had always felt for him. He knew where he was with that. It gave him back some normality. He’d always hated his mother’s husband, but it had been easier before he became real. ‘We’ll bury her in England,’ he told Jack, ‘but in the churchyard, not your family’s plot. I don’t want her pushin’ up the daisies on Stewart land.’

He looked away and turned on his television. The conversation was over. He stared unseeing at the screen as he listened for the closing of the door.

Emer had chosen La Mer Wine Barge and Bistro for her lunch with Jack. The boat was moored on the Grand Canal, close to the city centre, and it gave office workers the chance to sit somewhere away from the bustle for a while and gaze at the water.

The interior was cosy, with plush blue cushions, varnished wood and quaint portholes. A smooth background jazz was playing as Emer and Jack settled at their table. Hopefully, the mellow atmosphere would have a relaxing effect on him. He’d been tense ever since they met up and left the hospital together. The first thing he’d done was explain their misunderstanding on the phone that morning, and Emer had apologised for jumping to conclusions. It couldn’t have been easy for him to deal with both Luke and the Guards, not to mention hearing about Annie and the accident again. It was no surprise to hear him say he wasn’t very hungry. Stress played havoc with the digestive system.

When the waiter came by to take their order, Emer chose baked mussels for an appetiser, and Jack ordered the minestrone soup, without much enthusiasm. He also ordered a beer.

‘Jack, you don’t have to pass up on meat just because I don’t eat it,’ Emer said, when the waiter had left. ‘It doesn’t bother me – really.’

He smiled. ‘Okay.’

They made small talk about the weather and the restaurant until the drinks arrived. Jack gulped down half his beer in one go, like a man who’d been lost for weeks in a desert.

He set down the glass, looking a bit shamefaced. ‘Sorry – I really needed that.’

‘Was it bad – Luke and the Guards, I mean?’

Jack cast a swift glance at the diners close by. They were all absorbed in their own conversations, but Jack lowered his voice anyway. ‘They were implying Annie had been drinking. Luke almost lost it. Lucky I was there.’

‘Perhaps he needs a solicitor,’ Emer fretted.

Jack shook his head. ‘They were just fishing. Hopefully they don’t need Luke any longer. They don’t know he’s leaving Ireland.’

‘Is he going home with you?’ Emer mentally crossed her fingers.

‘Yes, for a few weeks at least, but I think that’s more from lack of options than any great desire to be with me.’

‘Doesn’t matter, Jack. The important thing is you’ll have some time together. You can find out a bit more about him …’

‘And maybe why Annie left.’

Emer nodded. That was his main reason for inviting Luke home, she knew that. Jack was coming at this thing from the wrong angle but at least it was a start.

‘Luke also agreed to let me organise the funeral. It’ll be at the local Catholic church Annie attended.’

Clearly Jack could be very persuasive when necessary. He’d not have been the successful businessman she’d read about otherwise. ‘That’s a lot of arrangements to make. If you have to get straight back to the hotel after lunch …’

‘No.’ He shook his head vigorously. ‘I need some time away from it all. I want to hear all about
you
– your family, your career, why you don’t eat meat, what you think about the ozone layer – the works.’

Emer laughed. ‘In that case, it’ll be a short lunch. I’m really very uninteresting.’

‘Oh, I doubt that.’

The compliment and his direct gaze made Emer blush, not something that had happened much since school days. She silently blessed the waiter who turned up at that moment with their food.