‘Oh, Ronan!’ she cried out in anguish, tears streaming down her cheeks. And Clara, she thought. What has your pitiable mother done to you both? She looked at the letter lying on the dashboard. Slowly she moved back to the truck and picked it up.
I made up the lie because I was desperate, Kate. Frightened, too, for I’d just learnt I had terminal lung cancer. I’d been in a relationship that had finished. As he was paying my rent, that then stopped and I feared I’d be out on the street. As you know Charles Fitzpatrick, lovely man that he is, had promised me the use of the flat at the side of Drominderry House after he and Clara were married. What you didn’t know was that he’d promised me an allowance as well. When Clara said she was staying in Australia and living at Ronan’s digs I thought it might have been because of him she had broken off with Charles. That was when my mind flipped and I came up with the idea of Ronan being her brother. For quite frankly, my sweet, if I had managed to seduce Dermot, she may well have been his daughter. And God, how I wished that she was. You and he were so utterly in love and so joyously happy I could hardly look at the two of you together. I felt you had stolen the happiness that should rightfully have been mine. To find out after his death that you were carrying his child was more than I could bear.
Ultimately all I wanted was for Clara to come to her senses. To return to Ireland and marry Charles. He had so much to offer her. And me. As it is, I now know that I destroyed her life. And Ronan’s. Forgive me, Kate. And forgive me for not telling you until now. Courage was never my forte. Please also ask James to have mercy on my soul. Now that I’m gone I’m sure he’ll tell you the heinous thing I did to him over the years.
Kathleen gasped. What did she mean? What had she done to James?
And please, please try and find Clara and show her this letter. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, but please beg her to try. Ronan too.
For a long time Kathleen sat unmoving, her anger so raw she felt it might kill her. You might be dead now, Jessica, but Ronan and Clara were at the beginning of their lives. Their love. How could you?
To calm herself she took long deep breaths. As she did, she tried desperately to imagine why Jessica had done such a thing. It was obvious that she had loved Dermot with all her heart, and that in her mind Kathleen had stolen him from her, and the loss had destroyed her. And then her marriages didn’t work out. For someone like Jessica, captured by a false value system that put appearances above everything else, including her own daughter’s happiness, getting older, losing her attractiveness to men, was terrifying. Was that what made her so pitiable? So manipulative? Clara marrying Charles Fitzpatrick was her last hope. And Ronan had spoilt that. Then to discover she was dying on her own. All of that, added together with the medicine she was on for her illness may have finally turned her mind. Surely that must have been it. It was too hard to believe that her friend was really evil. Yes, she was self-absorbed, vain and shallow at times, but Kathleen had never really known her to be evil. Even so, she found it impossible to forgive her for what she had done to Clara and Ronan. And what had she done to James? She had always felt James had disliked Jessica — what had she done to him?
She tried to collect herself as the bus rattled to a stop. Freddie jumped off and ran across the road and into the truck beside her. He took one look at Kathleen and held his nose.
‘You smell like vomit and you’ve been crying.’
‘Oh, Freddie,’ she cried, holding him so tightly he could hardly breathe. ‘Oh, Freddie, my darling, darling Freddie. We’ve got to ring Ronan as soon as we get back to the homestead. And we’ve got to find Clara.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ll tell you when I’ve spoken to Dad.’ She was shaking so much there was no way she could hold onto the steering wheel. ‘Now,’ she said, trying a smile, ‘do you want to drive?’
‘Me? Drive?’
‘Yes, and don’t tell me you can’t. I know Seamus used to let you drive back from the gate all the time. He said you’re very good. And I don’t think I could possibly handle driving right now.’
‘Really!’ Freddie grinned broadly at the prospect, his whole face lighting up. ‘Well, okay, then. If you insist.’
So Kathleen moved to the passenger seat and Freddie slipped behind the wheel and they had a bumpy ride up the road between the horse paddocks.
When they arrived at the homestead, Kathleen told Freddie to go inside and find the buttered scones she’d left on the table for him. She leapt out of the truck and rushed down to the stables to find James.
* * *
James was trying to fix the water pump when he saw Kathleen come flying around the corner, holding a letter in her hand.
‘James! James!’ she cried, rushing over. ‘Read this. It’s from Jessica. She wrote it before she died.’
James wiped his hands on a rag. ‘Jessica’s dead?’
Although he’d known she was sick, and indeed had wished her dead many times, it was still a shock.
‘Yes. But oh my God, James …’ Kathleen didn’t seem to be able to get the words out. ‘James … She says Dermot’s not Clara’s father after all.’
James gasped. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘She made the whole thing up. Here … see what she says.’
James took the letter and began to read, swallowing hard as he did so. Jessica was unstable, but he’d had no idea she was as bad as this. He looked up from the pages in front of him and held Kathleen’s eyes. All he could think of was Ronan and Clara.
‘We’ll need to let Ronan know as soon as possible,’ he said, taking a deep breath.
‘What if he can’t find Clara? What if she’s married someone else?’
James sighed, endeavouring to come to terms with what he had just read. ‘That’s why we need to try and find Ronan as soon as we can.’ He held the letter tightly; he had no doubt that Ronan would want to read it with his own eyes.
Kathleen looked at the pages over his shoulder. ‘But what does Jessica mean by this … the bit about what she did to you?’
James waited a long time before answering, all the time staring at the letter in his hand. ‘It’s something I should have told you. Now this has happened I will. Come.’ He put his arm around her and beckoned for her to step over with him to where they could sit on some upturned logs. When they were sitting down, he told her the whole story.
Whenever Kathleen tried to interrupt, he put his hand up, forcing her to listen to the end. When he finished she stood up and paced up and down, not looking at him. Finally she came and stood in front of him.
‘My God, James,’ she said, ‘you’re telling me we lost Rathgarven because Jessica threatened to tell the whole world that I had fallen pregnant out of wedlock to your brother. That Ronan wasn’t your son.’
He nodded. ‘You could say that.’
‘But, James — How could you? I mean you should have told me.’
‘To begin with it felt like a small price to pay to protect you and Ronan. But then as the economy got worse I should have refused. Ultimately I felt it was in Clara’s interest to keep it going, for Jessica assured me she was using a lot of the money I gave her for her education. To stop it would hurt Clara more than Jessica. Or so I thought.’ He sighed. ‘But there is no getting away from the fact that I allowed her to take advantage of me. Of us, really.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘Maybe my love for you, my desire to protect you and Ronan clouded my judgement.’
Kathleen sat down beside him, squeezing his arm. ‘Oh, James … I’m so sorry. After all you did for me and then this …’
He smiled and put his hand on hers. ‘It was also my concern for what the scandal would do to Mother, and her standing in the community and the church. But ultimately it was for you. And Ronan. As it happened he found out anyway.’
‘But the time that sent us over the edge, when she demanded that extra money and you tried to get it gambling at the Killarney Races, what was that for?’
He paused. ‘Jessica agreed tha
t if I gave her a lump sum that would be enough to cover the pickle she was in, and also enough for Clara to finish school, she wouldn’t worry me again.’
‘What sort of pickle was she in? She had a husband, Phillip, for Godsakes.’
‘She couldn’t ask him.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘She was pregnant to another man.’
Kathleen’s eyes opened wide. ‘James, don’t be so silly.’
‘I’m not. It’s true.’
Kathleen’s eyes opened even wider. ‘Who on earth was she pregnant to?’
‘A reasonably high-up Indian civil servant she met at the Tollygunge Club. That’s why she came back to England. For an abortion. As she hadn’t slept with her husband, Phillip, for over a year she knew the baby would be half-Indian and Phillip would throw her out. Totally cut her off. Her reputation would be ruined. And Clara would never forgive her.’
‘My God! But you could have dobbed her in to Phillip. That would have stymied her plan.’
‘I could have, yes. But if I had, she would most likely have found a way to disclose our secret. And Clara would have found out that her mother had aborted a half-brother or sister. That didn’t worry me for Jessica. But it did for Clara. And, apart from everything else, it could have got us into a bit of hot water for fudging Ronan’s birth certificate. If she decided to announce to the authorities, or the church for that matter, that he wasn’t my son and we had said he was, that could have caused a scandal on its own.’
‘But why keep what she was doing a secret from me for so long? Even after we came here? After what happened with Clara and Ronan?’
‘If you’d known what she was up to, I couldn’t trust you not to confront her. If you had, all bets would have been off, and apart from anything else, it would have been awkward for Mother back in Ireland. In any case, Rathgarven was gone. I saw no point in giving you more heartache by telling you what your friend had done. For, as we know, she was a good friend to you for many years. Particularly when your parents died. And then Dermot. And I know how much that friendship meant to you. Let’s just say that life got the better of her. It didn’t turn out quite the way she imagined it would. From you stealing Dermot from under her nose and Guy Preston losing all his money … then her other failed dalliances and Phillip turning out to be a philanderer and …’
‘I know … but…’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘If only I’d been involved in the finances at Rathgarven, like I am here, I might have noticed that money going out. And put a stop to it.’
‘You wouldn’t have known. I did it through Declan at the bank. And that was where she wrote to me.’
‘And Declan never asked what it was all about?’
‘He was always a great one for telling people to mind their own business. If he did wonder, he never said.’
‘But, James, we’ve got to tell Ronan and the others what happened. The real reason why we lost Rathgarven.’
James thought for a moment. ‘No, he said adamantly. ‘There’s a small possibility that Ronan and Clara might have a life together if he can ever track her down. And if he does, she’ll have enough on her plate learning her mother lied about her father. Let alone that she had aborted her sister or brother and blackmailed me.’
‘But you will tell your mother?’
‘What’s the point? All it might do is cloud her feelings for Clara. No, it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. You and I know. That’s the main thing.’
‘But what about Finn paying her all that money? It’s quite possible that was why he wasn’t able to honour his debts here before he died.’
‘That’s best forgotten too. He would have paid his debts in the end. He was just a slow payer. And Finn was fond of Jessica. Despite everything he didn’t want to see her in a pickle. I’m just sorry that I didn’t have the chance to repay him.’ He sighed. ‘One of the reasons I’ve been determined to make a success of Eureka Park in a way is to repay him.’ He took Kathleen’s hand in his. ‘The best thing we can do is help Ronan find Clara. If we do that, then at least something might be retrieved from this sorry mess.’
James refolded Jessica’s letter and handed it back to Kathleen. Again he thought how important it was that Ronan read it himself, not hear the contents second-hand from his parents. ‘We’ll need to show this letter to Ronan of course.’
‘And if he asks what Jessica did to you?’
‘I’ll tell him it was when we were young and stupid. Long since forgotten. For that’s how I see it.’
And, James reflected, that was how he saw it. What was the point of Ronan knowing it was Clara’s mother who had not only destroyed his life with Clara, but also caused James to lose his inheritance?
* * *
Ronan never did go to live at Rathgarven with Lillie. When his mother tracked him down at the deer farm near Taupo on New Zealand’s North Island and told him what was in Jessica’s letter, he had to grab a stool to sit down in case he keeled over.
‘Are you sure you’re reading it correctly?’ he gasped, terrified Ma had got the wrong end of the stick.
‘Both your father and I have read it many times. There’s no getting away from what Jessica meant. She made up the whole thing. She never slept with Dermot at all.’
‘So how do we know that she hasn’t made this up as well?’
‘This time I’m sure she’s definitely telling the truth. And in a way it all makes sense. I always knew she had a soft spot for Dermot, but what I couldn’t understand is why he never told me that he had an affair with her. It seemed so out of character.’
After he hung up, Ronan tried to come to terms with it all. He paced around and around the small office where he’d taken the call. The enormity of what his mother told him sank in. If Clara wasn’t his sister, there was nothing to stop them being together. Unless, of course, she had met someone else, which Ronan didn’t even want to think about. Over the coming days he rang his parents again and again to get their assurance that they believed Jessica was telling the truth. He even rang Lillie in Ireland.
‘You’ve got to believe it’s the truth,’ she said. ‘And you’ve got to find her, Ronan.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know. But don’t give up until you do.’
Dave said the same thing when they went into Taupo for a beer. Ronan had never told him about Clara being his sister. As far as Dave was concerned Clara had decided to break it off and go back to England. But now Ronan told him the whole story.
‘Gees, mate,’ he said. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’
‘I suppose because you knew I’d been sleeping with her. I felt I owed it to her not to tell.’
Dave nodded. ‘Well, bloody hell, mate, you better make up for lost time. I saw how much you fancied her. And she’s a bloody good sort. I often wondered how you let her get away.’
‘So where do you suppose I should start looking?’
‘Where you last knew she was. England.’
‘You reckon they’d mind it here if I took off?’
After visiting the fishing lodge on the Motueka River, they had been working on the deer farm for over a month. The owners were clearing out the thick, tangled woods down by the river to allow the deer to roam more easily. Ronan had been driving the tractor and Dave and another fellow had been doing the groundwork.
‘I think the work’s finishing up here anyway. The other bloke and I can do what’s left.’
Ronan thought for a moment. ‘Do you think I’m mad to go looking for her?’
‘Hell no, mate. Imagine if she found out that you knew this and hadn’t told her. She’d be forgiven for skinning you alive.’
Dave was right. What was the point of trying to make a go of the rest of his life without at least trying to find Clara? Sure, she may well be with someone else. Or he may never find her. But if he didn’t try he’d never know if they had another chance. It was a risk he needed to take. And the sooner he took it the better.
CHAPTER
&
nbsp; 53
Three days later Ronan flew to England. He booked himself into a hostel in central London, and Ma forwarded Jessica’s letter to him there by express airmail. When he read it he had no doubt that she was telling the truth. First of all he went to find Mary Archer at the place she had shared with Jessica. In fairness to Jessica he didn’t go into details as to why he wanted to find Clara, except to say it was extremely urgent. He left her his phone number at the hostel in case she heard anything. Frantically he placed advertisements in a number of newspapers. He even went to Clara’s old school to see if they could put him in touch with any of her friends. But no one had any idea where she was. It was as if she had evaporated like the morning mist. Until Mary Archer rang one morning to tell him a letter had arrived addressed to Jessica. She suspected it might be from Clara so had opened it.
‘Do you want me to read it to you,’ she asked. ‘Or would you like to come and get it?’
‘Please read it,’ he said, unable to wait.
‘Just letting you know I’m okay and living on a beautiful island off Papua New Guinea,’ Mary read out. ‘Don’t try to find me, Mummy, please. One day I might forgive you, but not now.’
‘Is that it?’ Ronan asked.
‘Yes, and the postmark’s so faint I can’t make it out. And by the looks of the envelope it’s been a long time getting to England.’
Mary didn’t ask what it was that Clara couldn’t forgive Jessica for. And Ronan didn’t say.
‘Can I come around and get it?’ he asked her.
‘Of course.’
Within a couple of hours Ronan had Clara’s letter in his hand. And yes, Mary was right. Hard as he looked, the postmark was indecipherable.
Watching him read the letter, Mary said, ‘She obviously means a lot to you.’
Ronan smiled. ‘Yes, she does.’
‘Well, off you go then. Go and find her.’
Knowing Clara was probably somewhere in Papua New Guinea was enough for him to set off in pursuit. He quickly organised a ticket and flew to Port Moresby. And there began his long and arduous search of the islands of PNG. Everywhere he went he showed a photo of Clara, which he kept in his wallet.
The Homestead on the River Page 46