by Mary Malone
When he’d accepted the offer as a gym teacher and basketball coach at NYC College, Heidi had instantly conjured up plans of her own. Back home, he’d been caught up in the fizz of her excitement. Extricating himself from arrangements he’d made with college friends, he’d welcomed her suggestion with open arms and a big smile on his face. But now that they’d arrived and their web of lies was spinning wider and wider, he had serious reservations about the wisdom of their decision.
Heidi half-turned towards him, raising an eyebrow and shrugging her shoulders. “In another few days, I’ll call them and give them my new number. It’s no biggie, Matt!”
His persistence matched her obstinacy: “But what’s the worst thing they can say, eh?”
He watched as she slowly withdrew from the window, tugging on the frame to get it back into place. Once she’d secured the old-fashioned latch, she drew the heavy velvet drapes together, shutting out the city and isolating them from the rest of the world.
“Stop fussing, Matt. I’m not expected back from Cyprus for another few days so they won’t be even thinking about me yet. Anyway, in case you haven’t noticed, I am a consenting adult!”
“Oh, I’d noticed,” he deadpanned, looking deep into her eyes, then slowly allowing his gaze to rove the length of her svelte body, the deep physical attraction he felt for her causing his breath to quicken.
Heidi’s soft, seductive voice cut into his fantasy.
“Don’t you want to be alone with me?”
Matt moved a step closer and nodded, drinking in the outline of her firm breasts, her tiny waist and legs that went on forever.
She ran her tongue over her lips. “Can’t we savour where we are for now? Being away from it all without having to hide from interfering and disapproving families? We deserve this bliss. Allow us to enjoy it. Please?”
Her words hung in the stuffy room, the mood between them intensifying, their anonymity paramount and their location immaterial once they were together.
Unable to resist her tantalising, Matt reached out and pulled her into his arms. He inhaled the lingering scent of the latest YSL fragrance she’d sprayed from a sample bottle in Macy’s, his tongue flicking gently against her earlobe, his body tingling with lustful anticipation.
“Cold?” she asked when he shivered in her arms. “Maybe it’s time you put on more than your boxers.” She tilted her head as she looked up at him, her bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously, her finger trailing over his chest, circling his belly button, her hips swaying gently against his thighs. She was expert at distracting him and expert at getting her own way, making it impossible for him to refuse her anything.
“Or maybe it’s time you took off yours, you little minx,” he said, feeling her warm breath on his ear, submitting to her advances and entwining his fingers in hers. Guiding her towards the wall, childhood scribbles and family issues were the furthest things from his mind as their lips met. Their rented space in Midtown Manhattan was a safe haven from the world’s demands and the chain of events about to unfold. At least for now.
Chapter 2
Lucy Ardle curled up on the couch in her sister Delia’s conservatory, oblivious to the magnificent sea view, the uncertainty of her future stretching before her, a brand-new chapter in her life about to begin.
Earlier that afternoon she’d been fraught and distracted, her mind on the other side of the Atlantic with her son, Matt. He’d left for New York a few days previously, excited and apprehensive. Watching him walk through the departure gates of Shannon Airport reminded her of his very first day at nursery school when he’d clutched his teacher’s hand and waved Lucy a solemn goodbye. This time his wave had been cheery, his bright eyes holding hers until he’d disappeared beyond the security gates. The lump in her throat threatened to choke her long after he’d disappeared from view, a dark cloud of loneliness slipping around her.
Danny didn’t understand. But husbands seldom did, Lucy thought, fiddling with the collection of bronze figurines on the table beside her, remembering Danny’s sorry attempt at comforting her when she’d tried to explain how she felt. She wasn’t a fool and had known full well he’d been watching the Sports Channel over her shoulder while she poured her heart out. Irritated by his nonchalance, she’d stormed from the house, telling him in no uncertain terms how inconsiderate he was being.
She drove furiously to their entrance gate where she braked sharply, scattering gravel. Then she nosed out onto the narrow byroad, glancing up the road to her neighbour Carol Black’s lavish house, Hillcrest, wondering if she was there. But a chat and a coffee with a neighbour wouldn’t remedy this situation. Only a heart-to-heart with a sister would do.
As per usual, Delia was on hand in a crisis, her home not far from Lucy’s by car, living as they did on opposite sides of the seaside village of Crosshaven in County Cork.
Lucy’s lips shaped into a sudden smile as she remembered her younger sister’s shock when she’d arrived on her doorstep, babbling incoherently, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Anyone would think there was a death in the family and not a bit of upheaval over a graduate leaving home!” Delia had blurted out, ushering Lucy inside Bracken, her split-level home on Strand Hill.
Once Lucy’s sobbing had subsided, Delia went to the kitchen to make coffee.
“It’s a lot tougher than you expected, eh?” she said as she returned with a laden tray: steaming coffee, a bowl of whipped cream, a plateful of the chunkiest chocolate-chip cookies Lucy had ever seen and two enormous mugs.
“The emptiness is surreal, Del, not to mention the dread of endless boring days with nothing to do. As for the stillness in the house . . .” Lucy shuddered. “I find it impossible to stay there any length of time. And I know I was forever shouting at him to lower the volume on his rock music but I’d do anything now to hear the thudding bass guitar bringing the house back to life.”
“Come on, this isn’t like you. I thought you were delighted for Matt to spread his wings?” Delia went for reinforcements, returning a moment later with a large box of chocolates – an essential accessory in any crisis. Unwrapping the cellophane, she took the lid from the box and gave Lucy all four of her favourite Turkish delights from the top layer.
Popping one in her mouth, Lucy lined the others up like soldiers on the table in front of her. Thinking hard about Delia’s question, she sucked on the mixture of milk chocolate and soft gelatine, enjoying the rich taste as it slid down her throat, reaching for the second one before she’d even finished the first. “Of course I’m happy for him. It’s me I feel sorry for.”
“You weren’t nearly this bad when Stephen left for Oz, Luce,” Delia reminded her, filling both of their mugs.
“I know but this is totally different, a complete wrench. I missed Stephen like crazy. But at least Matt was still at home then. And I was busy. It’s so damn orderly in the house now. No sports gear lying around, no mess in the kitchen and nobody clearing all the nice stuff from the fridge in record time.”
“Surely that’s not all bad?” Delia ventured carefully, scooping a generous helping of cream into her coffee and pulling her feet under her as she made herself comfortable on the couch for a marathon sisterly chat.
Lucy shook her head. “For the first time in years, I can hear myself think. And I can honestly tell you I don’t like one word of what I’m hearing.” Loneliness expanded inside her like an inflating balloon, overwhelming her with its severity, making it impossible for her to look forward.
Delia reached out and took a truffle from the box, nibbling at it as she outlined her sister’s predicament aloud. “So the boys are settling into new lives, Danny’s happy to leave them to it and that leaves you where exactly? Disgruntled? Lost? Bored? As far as I can see, Luce, it’s time to give yourself a kick up the backside, step out of your comfort zone and take your spare time in a new direction.”
Lucy’s eyes misted. “Look at the state of me. I’m pathetic. I can’t even think straight, never mind a
nything else. Being a mother and wife, organising school runs and PTA meetings are all I’ve known for the last twenty years.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Delia shot back, popping two chocolate hazelnuts in her mouth, her patience and tolerance wearing thin, annoyance speeding up her chocolate consumption. “It’s a hell of a long time since you’ve done a school run! For God’s sake, Matt is twenty-one! It’s not like he was hanging around your feet every day. He was barely ever home. Get a grip, sis!” She crunched the chocolates loudly, running her tongue around her teeth to extricate tiny pieces of hazelnut, refusing to indulge Lucy’s self-pity.
This time her sister couldn’t disagree. “Maybe not, but he was always coming and going, generally with a few others in tow.”
“To pick up his laundry and get fed no doubt,” Delia muttered under her breath, instantly remorseful when her sister’s face crumpled. “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that, Luce, but he’s a grown man and he wouldn’t want you pining after him. Give yourself some time to get used to things. You’ll soon find your feet again.”
“I hope so, Del. I really do. But, right now, it’s a shock to my system.”
Munching on chocolate after chocolate, they managed to eat their way through to the second layer, discussing Lucy’s dilemma in great detail and coming up with a few suggestions to ease her into the next phase of her life. Surprise November sunshine filtered into the conservatory as the sisters chatted amicably, the unexpected warmth – along with Delia’s reassuring words – brightening Lucy’s spirits and encouraging her to look forward once more.
“Next week, Del,” she promised her sister determinedly, allowing herself another day or two to wallow, “next week will be the start of something new, a time to find myself again. And who knows what adventures will come my way?”
Carol Black breezed in the front door of her luxury three-storey home, more than satisfied with her Saturday afternoon. Eric was due back from his business trip the following day and had promised they’d have reason to celebrate. And knowing how her husband liked to do things in style and have her looking her best, Carol hadn’t left anything to chance. Her platinum bob gleamed after her trip to the hair salon and the dress she’d spotted in Lily & Clara’s boutique window in Ballincollig was now safely wrapped in tissue paper and rightfully hers.
Flicking through the post sitting in the box since the previous day, she soon realised it was all bank stuff and dropped the envelopes on the hall table for Eric to deal with. He’d made it clear from the early days of their marriage that he didn’t like her opening his post so now she never dreamt of doing so, in any case finding his wheeling and dealing complex and impossible to follow, something she’d have lived quite happily without. But the rewards were fruitful, and the lavish lifestyle something she’d become accustomed to, so she was happy to turn a blind eye to the intricate and possibly suspect detail.
Feeling suddenly weary and pleased at the thought of having their large sleigh bed to herself, she craved an early night with the plasma TV and her fashion magazines for company, but unfortunately her daughter Isobel would need a lift to the airport in a while.
At present Isobel was locked away in the study on the third floor, knee-deep in prep work for yet another project she was co-ordinating for her high-level IT position. Amazed by her daughter’s hunger to succeed in such a male-dominated environment, Carol often worried that one day Isobel would look back and weep, regretting spending her Saturday nights wrapped up in the latest software development instead of a handsome man’s arms. A stickler for perfection, she had a flight to Dublin that evening, adamant she’d need Sunday to set up her conference room and get everything exactly right (including burning mood-sticks to induce the exact atmosphere she wanted to prevail) so the first of her presentations, on Monday morning, would go without a hitch. Isobel left nothing to chance.
Definitely inherited the ambitious gene from her father, Carol thought with a smile, grabbing her Lily & Clara bag and her bundle of glossies, anticipating a perfect end to her day once she’d dropped Isobel to the airport.
Also by Mary Malone
Lucy and Danny Leonard’s lives are thrown into disarray when a devastating house fire destroys a lifetime of memories in their Crosshaven home, bringing the finger of suspicion to their door. Forensic Gardai quickly upgrade the case from accidental to arson, concentrating their investigation for motive very close to home. Delving deep into the affairs of Danny’s construction company, they discover a fraudulent revenue trail and suspect a link. The company assets are frozen and the Leonard good name is in serious question.
Was it intentional that Danny was in the house when the fire started? Are his injuries designed to add credence to an insurance scam? Isn’t his company already in serious trouble? How coincidental that both of their sons are out of the country at the time of the fire? These are some of the leads the Gardai follow, their discoveries terrifying Lucy, adding to the shocking reality that she omitted to renew the insurance premium.
But who can she turn to for help? Is there anybody she can trust?
Eric and Carol Black are the Leonards’ nearest neighbours. Driving premium cars, sailing expensive yachts and mingling with the elite, their lives teeter dangerously close to the edge as Eric’s greed threatens their lavish lifestyle. Seizing the opportunity to benefit from the Leonards’ misfortune, Eric and Carol manipulate Lucy’s vulnerability, disguising treason as neighbourly concern.
The investigation is ongoing, the Leonards are homeless, their future hanging in the balance. But the instigator is still out there.
Read Love Is The Reason Now
Vicky is tormented by the suspicion that her husband, Fintan, is having a relationship with her sexy and power-driven work colleague, Ariel. Unable to cope with this double betrayal, Vicky pushes her heartache aside and sets out on a very risky course of revenge. To complicate matters further, she discovers she’s pregnant. Unwilling to share this surprise with a cheating husband, she is fuelled by an obsession to make those deceiving her pay for their actions.
Woman’s intuition is Vicky’s undoing, along with her inability to differentiate between truth and imagination, fact and paranoia. She ignites a battle that almost loses her everything she’s fighting for. Driven by raging pregnancy hormones, an obsession with one misinterpreted incident and the voices in her head, she loses sight of all boundaries until finally the moment of truth is upon her - will she be able to go through with her vengeful plan?
Read Never Tear Us Apart Now
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