The Last Bride in Ballymuir (41 page)

“
They’re asking for a meal,
just a damned meal,” he said, his voice amazingly devoid of the
intense hurt slicing through him. All he had ever wanted was one
unconditional mother’s embrace, one small nod of understanding.
“For the sake of the family,
you owe it to
them. And if seeing me bothers you this
bloody much, I promise as soon as the bird is roasting, I’ll
leave you ‘til supper.”

That jaw she held so tightly clenched finally
came loose.

“
You want the truth, do you?
I hate seeing you. I’d
hoped to go to my
grave without seeing you again. Oh, I might have loved you when you
were a baby, but that loving is so far in the past that for the
life of me, I can’t remember it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her
hands closed into tight fists. “You’ve brought us shame. Nothing
but shame, dragged our name so deep into the dirt that it will
never come clean. And now you want me to chat with you? And tell
you what? How you made it so I couldn’t step out of the house
without catching somebody whispering behind their hand? How your
father blames me—
me
—for not bringing you up properly?”

It tore at him, the way he’d become fixed in
her mind, a creature of equal parts ugly truths and uglier myths.
And it tore at him—a man who could mend just about anything—that he
couldn’t fix this. She would never see him for what he was today.
Now. She would never love him.

“
I think you’ve told me
enough.”

She looked past him and said to the boys,
“Four o’clock. No later.”

After she swept from the room, taking the
twins with her, Michael pulled out a chair and sat. His sister, he
saw, was crying. What he’d give for the same luxury.

It had been a fine idea, to catch a few of
Galway’s sights before heading home. A fine idea, but a lonely one.
Once Kylie had realized that nothing was as interesting without
Michael, she’d packed up and readied to head home. Unfortunately,
her car wasn’t nearly as anxious to arrive as she was.

The old Renault chugged and
heaved, protesting the uphill grade. She’d been nursing the auto
along, growing more frustrated as each mile crept by. The
roads were rougher now, and the land emptier, too,
as
she wound through the mountains toward
Ballymuir.

“
C’mon, you rusting piece of
blight. Just a little farther.”

It answered by sending a
belch of oily smoke from
the front, then
giving out altogether.

“
Well now, that’s just
bloody wonderful.” She coasted downhill, supposing she should be
thankful that at least she’d made the top of the rise. She drew as
close as she could to the jagged stone fence marking the road’s
edge, then switched off the already dead vehicle.

“
No point in waiting for
someone to happen along,” she said to herself, then wrenched the
parking brake into place.

Kylie slipped from the car,
pocketed the keys, and pointed her feet toward home. Her heels were
soon blistered and stinging from the silly little city shoes she’d
worn to Galway. She’d been walking half an hour when she passed a
white signpost reading,
“Ballymuir 20
Miles.” It might as well have been two
thousand.

The bird was roasting, and
Mam had come damn close,
herself. All the
time he’d been working in the kitchen,
Michael could hear her in the next room sawing away at
Vi’s self-esteem and treating the boys as though
they didn’t own a brain between them. Through it all, he’d kept his
mouth firmly shut, and the largest pot in the
kitchen stowed. The best he could have hoped, anyway,
was to have deflected her anger. But since she
refused to
acknowledge him, there was
little chance of that.

When, as promised, he’d left the house, Vi
was beginning to come back to life. The twin blazes of crimson on
her cheeks were not-so-subtle warnings of the storm soon to blow.
Bless Vi, not even Mam could keep her down for long. He wished he
could be there to witness the end result.

It felt odd, walking when for once he didn’t
want to. The sky overhead shone a crystalline blue that didn’t
often visit these parts. With nowhere else to go, he decided to
have a peek at the Village Hall. Though the exhibition didn’t open
until Monday evening, he knew his sister well enough to be sure
that it was already perfect.

He rounded the corner. Evie Nolan stood in
front of her father’s shop, smoking a cigarette. He nodded a polite
greeting, but didn’t slow his pace. Evie gave no answering
greeting.

Michael closed the distance to the Village
Hall, then climbed the three steps to its entry. He cupped his
hands and peered through a narrow window cut into the door. From
what he could see, the exhibition looked grand. Vi had hung great
sweeps of fabric from the ceiling, and the walls were alive with
art. He leaned nearer, trying for a better view. The door creaked
open.

He chuckled. “An invitation, I’d be saying.”
He closed the door after himself and switched on the lights.

“
Not half bad, sweet Vi,” he
murmured. Knowing how bloody thrilled Kylie would be when she saw
this made him all the more pleased. He wasn’t sure how long he’d
been strolling around, looking at the students’ art, when the door
opened again. A young couple walked in.

“
We saw the lights on and
thought we’d have a look about, if you don’t mind,” said the woman.
“Una, our eldest, has a bit or two on display.”

“
Welcome in,” Michael said.
“And why don’t you show me your daughter’s work?”

And so it went as one person after another
arrived. Michael milled about, greeting those he knew, smiling at
the good-natured jokes about his bruised appearance, and feeling
just a touch chagrined for having started the party rolling.

A friendly hand settled on his shoulder. “And
you didn’t invite your own sister?” Vi teased. “Here I expected to
find you sulking about, and you’ve thrown a hooley.”

“
The door was unlocked,” he
said with an embarrassed shrug. “And then, well, I can’t explain
the rest.”

“
News travels fast in
Ballymuir. Mam and the twins are with me. I wanted to show her what
Kilbrides can accomplish when they stick together.”

He landed a kiss on her cheek. “Grand things,
Violet. Grand things.”

Kylie waved good-bye to the
elderly couple who had
dropped her home. It
had seemed almost divine intervention when they’d appeared on the
empty road, then slowed and offered her a ride. She wouldn’t have
made it home without them. Her heels were a blistered mess, and
there wasn’t a part on her that didn’t ache. She needed a long
shower and then an enormous meal.

“
Breege, I’m home,” she
called as she entered the house, not wanting to startle her friend.
She slipped off her shoes, wincing as her heels came free, then
gingerly walked to the bedroom doorway.

There was no wondering whether Breege had
been well cared for. She had a box of chocolates on one side of her
and a stack of books on the other.

“
And what might you be doing
back so early?” Breege asked with affectionate
sternness.

“
A bit of trouble with
Michael’s brothers,” she said. “Has he called, by any
chance?”

“
Sorry, dearie, no call from
him.” Breege looked her up and down, and obviously wasn’t impressed
by what she saw. “Well, if this is what leaving town does, I’m all
for you staying. You’ll be wanting to clean up before you head to
the Village Hall.”

“
The Hall? Why?”

Breege crumpled a chocolate wrapper and made
a neat toss into the basket by the nightstand. “It didn’t matter
much when you were all the way to Galway, but now that you’re home,
you might as well know that Mairead Corrigan called. Seems the art
exhibition has opened a wee bit earlier than planned.” She rolled
her eyes and added, “You’d think the world was coming to an end. An
unholy love of schedules that woman has.”

Shower and food would have to wait. On the
bright side, at least she could corner Mairead and schedule a
meeting with the school administration. The sooner she had that
part of her future settled, the better.

“
May I borrow your car?” she
asked as she dug a pair of paint-spattered clogs from beneath the
bed.

Her friend chuckled. “It’s not as though I’ll
be using it.”

“
Good, then. I’ll be back by
supper.”

“
Keys are in the ignition,”
Breege called as Kylie flew from the room. “And have a grand
time.”

With nothing more threatening than a glare
from Vi—which admittedly was ominous enough—Mam had managed to send
a few impersonal comments Michael’s way. Like fighters between
rounds, they now stood in opposite corners of the room. Vi hovered
next to him, uttering hopeful little comments like “It’s grand
she’s meeting you halfway” and “I think age is softening her.”

Michael doubted there would ever be true
peace between himself and his mother, but he was willing to give it
a go.

“
Don’t push it,” he said to
his sister, clasping her hand in his. “Let’s enjoy the
day.”

A regular town event, this had become.
Fiddles had been brought out, and a traditional ceili dance begun.
Ladies wearing their Sunday best served cakes and scones. Soon,
though, he’d have to go home and check on that bird. The party
would go on without him, no doubt for hours yet.

Michael glanced across the
dancers to see the door
swing open again.
Lips curved into a snotty smile, Evie Nolan entered the
room.

“
Oh, marvelous. Miss
Congeniality’s here,” Vi muttered.

“
You mean among your many
dubious talents, you can’t make her disappear?”

Apparently not, for Evie stopped in front of
him, surveyed him like he was up for purchase, then laughed.
“Perfect, just too bloody perfect. I wouldn’t miss this for all the
money in the world.”

Michael squeezed his sister’s hand tighter,
then drew her back when she tried to take a step toward nasty Miss
Nolan.

“
What do you want,
Evie?”

“
It’s not what I want. It’s
what you’re getting.”

The fiddle music died on a discordant
moan.

“
He’s right here,” Evie
called over the sudden quiet.

Michael watched as the crowd parted, and
Gerry Flynn led two cold-faced Gardai across the dance floor.
Straight at him.

Sick fear engulfed Michael. Then came the
awful, all-encompassing guilt for a sin he couldn’t even begin to
identify.

“
You made this too easy,”
Flynn said as they neared. “No sport to it at all.”

Just like
before
...
Jesus,
it’s happening again.

“
Oh my God, Michael, what’s
happening?” he heard his sister say.

Through the cold terror that
sent the sound of his own ragged breathing echoing in his ears,
Michael
clung
to
one comfort. Thank God Kylie wasn’t due back ‘til later. At least
he could keep her safe.

Galvanized by that thought, he grabbed his
sister by the shoulders. “She was never with me,” he said low and
urgent into her ear. “I haven’t seen Kylie in days. Protect her,
Vi.”

They were nearly on him, now, seeming to grow
larger with every step. A shoulder nudged close to his. Tearing his
gaze from the approaching men, Michael saw that his brothers had
lined to his left, and his mother and sister to his right. The
sight almost brought him to his knees.

“
Michael Kilbride?” asked
one of the Gardai.

His mouth sour with the bile
of fear, Michael nod
ded.

The crowd stirred as the door opened one last
time. Voices raised. Though he couldn’t make out the words over the
roaring in his head, one voice he knew.

Please, God, not this.

“
Let me through,” Kylie
cried.

Not this.
He must have wavered, for he felt his
sis
ter’s and brothers’ hands support
him.

“
Michael Kilbride, I’m
arresting you in connection
with the murder
of Brian Rourke,” said the Garda. “I’m asking that you come with me
peacefully.”

Kylie’s inarticulate cry
tore through
his heart.
He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t survive this moment without
crumbling. And that he’d not do. Keeping his gaze squarely on the
pair of Gardai in front of him, he stepped forward.

“
I’ll be all right,” he said
to his family, while deep inside he felt himself begin to
die.

“
Gerry, what’s this about?”
Kylie’s voice was thick with horror.

“
Your lover’s been off in
Galway plying his trade.
A little murder,
and—”

“
No!”

“
Are you saying he wasn’t
there?” Flynn’s smile was dark and ugly. “Or maybe you’re saying
you were with him?”

Sly bastard, Michael thought. Sly, evil
bastard.

“
Don’t put words in my
mouth. I’m saying—”

“
What?” goaded Flynn. “No
begging? No offers for the gentlemen here? I’m surprised, after the
way I saw you that night—spreading your legs to clear your father’s
debts. And later your da drinking to his daughter, too. So now I
was thinking you wouldn’t be beyond suggesting a spot of whoring to
free your lover.”