Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit)

by Connor, Isabella

  ‘Okay. Try handling this, then.’ Jack thrust the protest meeting leaflet into Richard’s hands. ‘These have been circulated all round the village.’

  Richard scanned the leaflet. ‘Oh dear.’ His tone indicated a total lack of interest.

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  Richard tutted. ‘Well, the grammar is atrocious.’ He looked back at the leaflet, reading aloud. ‘“Many people will loose their homes.” I don’t know what they’re teaching them in schools these days.’

  ‘It’s not a bloody spelling test, Richard! This is serious!’

  ‘Come on, Jack. Who’s going to show up? Some Marxist deadbeats whining about capitalism? A lot of talk, a few placards, and then it’ll all blow over. It’s happened before.’

  ‘Not to us, it hasn’t.’ Nicholas set aside a pile of papers he’d been reading, and frowned. ‘I don’t like it. I thought you said everyone had signed, Richard.’

  ‘Almost everyone. They all agreed to the compensation in principle.’ Richard was looking uncomfortable.

  ‘Obviously not,’ Jack pointed out.

  Richard directed his appeal to Nicholas. ‘Look – the troublemakers behind this are probably testing us to see if we’ll raise the already generous compensation offer. They’ll lose interest in a week or so if we ignore them.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘I don’t think we should just sit here and do nothing.’

  Nicholas nodded. ‘Nor do I, Jack. It’s too risky. Redgate are twitchy about adverse media exposure since they got burned a few years ago over that holiday-home scam.’

  Burned by association when bent property developers disappeared with nearly a million in deposits, leaving Redgate Construction with half-built apartments and no money to finish them. If anything went wrong with the Woodlands deal, the Stewart name would be mud.

  ‘I don’t want them to get cold feet,’ continued Nicholas. ‘Someone should go to this meeting. We need to know what – and who – we’re dealing with.’

  ‘Why don’t you go, Richard?’ suggested Jack. ‘It’s your project, as you keep reminding me.’ There was silence. ‘Or are you afraid of a few Marxist deadbeats?’

  Richard glared. ‘Of course not. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. They’ll probably clam up if they see me …’

  ‘Or heckle you out of the place.’ Jack would love to see that.

  ‘We need to send someone they won’t know,’ said Nicholas. ‘Someone junior – low-profile and discreet. Who do you suggest, Richard?’

  ‘Um …’ he stalled, looking out of the window as if searching for inspiration. Jack almost laughed aloud. Richard knew none of the junior staff. If someone wasn’t at least on the Board of Directors, he couldn’t be bothered to speak to them. Jack, on the other hand, made it his business to know everyone by name. Had asked HR to advise him of every new employee so that he could personally welcome them to the company.

  ‘Lynda Thomas,’ he suggested, while Richard was still trying to think of someone. ‘Legal assistant. She’s done good work on the Sterne contract.’

  ‘I’m not sure a woman can handle this …’ Richard began, but Nicholas cut his protestations short with a wave of his hand.

  ‘It’s a good idea. A woman will seem less of a threat. Not local, is she?’

  ‘No,’ said Jack. ‘She’s from Chester.’

  ‘Okay, Jack, you brief her – and bring the PR department up to speed. Richard, get over to Woodlands right now. If you can get those outstanding signatures, there’ll be nothing to protest about.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ said Richard sulkily, and left.

  Jack stayed where he was. Nicholas pulled the pile of papers back in front of him. Clearly Grace hadn’t told him about the necklace and Jack’s accusations, or it would have been mentioned by now.

  ‘Was there anything else, Jack?’ Nicholas asked, steepling his fingers. ‘Time is money.’

  ‘Keep an eye on Richard with this Redgate deal, Dad. I think he might be in over his head. In my opinion, we should have left the riverfront houses alone. Breaking up that community doesn’t feel right.’

  Nicholas raised an eyebrow. ‘We are a business, not a charity. It’s not like you to be so puritanical.’

  ‘Just trying to protect our reputation.’

  Nicholas smiled. ‘Don’t worry. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect the family name.’

  Jack left the office with those words ringing in his ears, and they haunted him for the rest of the morning, as he wondered to what lengths Nicholas would go to – and perhaps had gone to – to protect the Stewart name.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Luke switched the TV off. The day was dragging. He wanted to stretch out on the sofa and sleep, but lately he’d been having nightmares about the crash. The truck’s lights, the car swerving. Images had started to come back in dribs and drabs, like he’d been told might happen. It made him want to stay awake permanently. He had more control over his thoughts then.

  He pulled the necklace from his pocket, counting the stones through his fingers like rosary beads. Jack had given it back to him, claiming Grace knew nothing about it. Maybe he hadn’t even asked her. Anything for an easy life. Finding justice for Annie was going to be tough, but he’d get to the truth somehow.

  His mobile rang, startling him. He’d never had his own phone until Matt presented it to him yesterday, all wrapped up, saying it was something he should keep with him at all times, for protection in case his uncles showed up. For a moment, Luke had expected to see a gun.

  The call display showed Kate’s number. He’d called her yesterday, but she was the first call he’d received on this new phone. How sweet was that. He pressed the talk button. ‘Baronsmere Fortune Tellin’. What can we predict for you today?’ A squeal of laughter at the other end of the phone and the bleak day suddenly seemed more bearable.

  ‘I’d like a reading in person, please,’ said Kate. ‘Tonight. Seven o’clock. My place. Dinner. Can you tell me if a certain Irishman with the bluest eyes and the longest eyelashes in the world can make it?’

  A beautiful girl wanted to spend the evening with him – surely any minute now he’d wake up. ‘Let me check my engagement diary. It’ll mean disappointin’ Ollie – no excitin’ walk down the drive for him later. Still, for you, Kate, anythin’.’

  ‘Great! I’ll cook, and play you my new CD.’

  ‘Nothin’ you expect me to dance to, I hope.’

  ‘No, don’t worry. It’s soul ballads.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ said Luke. ‘I’m not up to Riverdance.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘What about your mam – will she be there?’ Luke had met Sarah briefly at the funeral. She hadn’t seemed especially friendly, and her look had been downright frosty when he’d been in The Foresters.

  ‘No,’ Kate replied. ‘She’s at some party in Manchester. Won’t be back until after midnight.’

  ‘I’ll see if Maggie or Matt can give me a lift. You’ll have your hands full.’

  ‘Hmm. I certainly hope so. Later then, handsome.’

  Luke was going to be alone with Kate. He’d want to kiss her again for sure. They’d practised a lot on Saturday, so he was quite confident about that bit, but maybe there’d be more. Twenty, and he’d never had a proper girlfriend. Pathetic. He’d had sex before, but he’d never made love. He wanted it to be special, not some meaningless grope in the dark, but he found it hard to trust. He and Kate had talked about it a bit on Saturday. She’d told him she was experienced, and he’d told her he wasn’t. She didn’t seem to mind that, and he hadn’t minded telling her. He hated thinking about that first experience, though. A brief relationship with someone who should have been off limits. Like a lot of things in his life, it ended with humiliation and violence. He hadn’t bothered since.

  Sinead. H
e hadn’t loved her. She hadn’t loved him either. Just fancied the idea of being his first. He was seventeen and she was twelve years older. She helped run the Animal Centre where Luke volunteered. She’d definitely given him the come-on, and she was attractive. He wasn’t ashamed of being a virgin at seventeen, but he did get fed up with Joe and Liam making coarse comments about it. Sinead wasn’t a Traveller, but she seemed to like Luke well enough.

  She’d told Luke she was separated, but one night her husband had come round to the house and nearly hammered the door down. Joe had given Luke a bollocking, going on about shaming the family. He’d chased Luke upstairs, given him a battering, then kicked him back down. Luke’s back had given him grief ever since. He never saw Sinead again – he heard she’d gone to Holland with her husband who worked on the oil rigs and had obviously forgiven her. Annie had been great. Told Luke she understood, and believed he hadn’t known about the husband, but her being there when the man came round shouting filth and accusations had been so humiliating.

  He’d given it up after that. It was expected he’d marry within the culture, and Traveller girls had to be wedded before bedded. So he’d resigned himself to waiting for the right one to come along. Never thought it would be an outsider, though. A girl like Kate wouldn’t be acceptable back home, but she was lovely. Kind and caring. He’d have preferred it if she wasn’t experienced, but he couldn’t just switch off his feelings. Didn’t want to.

  He closed his eyes and stretched out on the sofa, thinking about Kate, and dozed into dreams of Ireland – singing along with Annie to the radio, him beating time with a spoon on the kitchen table …

  He jerked awake, sick with disappointment to find himself in England and alone. The dream had been so real. For a brief moment, he’d had his mother back, but that happiness wasn’t worth the loss he felt now. There were no tears, but inside he was crying.

  Excitement at spending the evening with Kate was gone. Annie would never be able to share the happiness of this, his first love. If he was lucky enough to get married, she’d never know the joy of grandchildren. His children would never know the joy of her. It was wrong to be finding pleasure in life when the earth around his mother’s grave was still soft. Perhaps he should call Kate and tell her he couldn’t make it. Just stay in his room this evening and grieve for his mam.

  The crash of the front door opening interrupted his thoughts. He heard Matt’s familiar ‘Honey! I’m home!’ There was a brief conversation with Maggie, then the living room door opened.

  ‘Hey, bro!’ Matt ruffled Luke’s hair before he threw himself onto the sofa. ‘Whatcha doing?’

  ‘Oh, just restin’. Thinkin’. How was work?’

  ‘Bloody awful. Getting things ready for the nightclub renovation. God, I hate paperwork. Pulling pints and chatting to the punters, that’s what I’m best at.’

  It was good to have Matt there. Luke felt less depressed when he was around. Unfortunately his brother always seemed to be working, sleeping, or enjoying a social life well into the early hours, which meant he had little free time. Not as much as Luke would have liked, anyway. He didn’t want to complain, but he did get lonely sometimes.

  ‘Maggie’s planning steak pie for dinner,’ said Matt, patting his stomach. ‘That’s what makes the idea of marriage so hard. None of the girlfriends to date could cook like our Maggie.’

  The mention of dinner reminded Luke of his dilemma. ‘I’m supposed to be seein’ Kate tonight.’

  Matt sat upright, giving Luke his full attention. ‘So you finally asked her out?’

  ‘Not exactly. She phoned earlier. She’s cookin’ for me. Wants me to listen to her new CD.’

  Matt laughed. ‘Yeah, right. Some excuse. She’ll be all over you before the first track ends.’

  Luke’s imagination ran with that idea for a few moments before guilt closed it down. ‘Matt – is it okay for me to be doin’ this – seein’ a girl when my mam … you know?’

  Matt’s smile faded. ‘I think she’d want you to be making friends, Luke. It doesn’t mean you’re grieving any less.’

  Luke nodded. There was truth in that. The voice of reproach in his head was Luke’s own, not Annie’s. He’d take things a step at a time, a day at a time. Start doing normal things again.

  Matt grabbed the remote and switched on the TV, flicking from channel to channel. ‘You’ll need some protection. I’ll get you something later from my stash. Best not let Maggie see, though.’

  ‘Best not let Maggie see what?’

  Luke literally jumped in his chair as the housekeeper came into the room carrying a huge chocolate cake. He hoped Maggie couldn’t see that he was blushing a bit. He hadn’t even thought about protection.

  ‘You don’t want to know, Maggie,’ said Matt. ‘Choccie cake. Sweet! Two slices for me, please.’

  ‘Dirty boots off the sofa, please, Matthew. Let’s at least pretend we’re civilised.’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am!’ Matt saluted and shifted his feet. ‘By the way, Luke’s out for dinner tonight. Kate’s cooking for him.’

  ‘I hope you know what you’re getting into, Luke,’ she said, exchanging a quick look with Matt.

  Luke hadn’t expected that from Maggie. His voice, when he spoke, was tense. ‘Is there a problem?’

  Maggie shook her head, a worried expression on her face. ‘Well, I don’t know – I hope not – but that young lady’s been waited on hand, foot and finger. I’m not sure she even knows how to turn the oven on.’

  Maggie’s face broke into a smile, and Luke’s heartbeat returned to normal. They were just teasing. ‘Will I have two slices of cake then?’ he asked, with a grin. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Matt. ‘And with any luck, Kate’ll see sense and get a takeaway.’

  Luke felt an unfamiliar glow of contentment. At that moment, it felt like family.

  ‘Have a nice time,’ said Maggie, pulling up outside Kate’s house. Luke sat there in the car, staring out unseeing at the street ahead till she asked, ‘Something wrong, love?’

  ‘Maggie – how do you go on? When you lose someone?’ He still felt guilty for even thinking of enjoying himself.

  Sadness clouded Maggie’s face. ‘It will ease in time, lad – the grief.’

  ‘Earlier, I dreamed Mam wasn’t dead. Wakin’ up was like goin’ through it all over again.’

  ‘That’s normal, Luke,’ Maggie told him, and her words were of some comfort. At least he wasn’t cracking up. Maggie squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll save some steak pie for you – just in case.’ Then she drove away leaving him in front of the Walkers’ cottage.

  Some cottage. He’d imagined somewhere small and quaint with a thatched roof. This house seemed to spill out in all directions. What would Kate make of his poky home in Ennis? He dodged the plant pots near the entrance and rang the bell. He waited a moment before pressing it again. He couldn’t stand there all night ringing the doorbell like an eejit, and he couldn’t phone because he’d forgotten his mobile. He decided to try round the back but just as he got there a frying pan flew out of the door and landed in one of the flowerbeds. The pan was on fire.

  ‘Bugger!’ he heard Kate shout.

  As Luke came in view of the window, he could see Kate inside. She was jumping up and down, trying to switch off the smoke alarm with a broom handle. No wonder she hadn’t heard the doorbell. He stepped into the kitchen at the same time as the alarm stopped.

  ‘Bugger!’ Kate said again, dropping the broom and turning back towards the cooker.

  ‘I’ve been called worse,’ quipped Luke, his eyes watering in the smoky kitchen.

  ‘Oh, Luke! It’s all gone wrong!’

  ‘So I see,’ he said. A tea towel smouldered in the sink next to him. ‘Are we eatin’ outside?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, is that the m
ain course in the garden?’

  Kate burst out laughing. ‘No, those are – were – the sautéed potatoes. I used too much oil and the stupid things caught fire so I panicked. The main course is lamb – it must be ready by now.’ Putting on oven gloves, she hauled a roasting dish out of the oven. The smell was deadly. The joint of meat lay there, defeated. Maggie and Matt had known what they were talking about.

  ‘That’s okay,’ joked Luke. ‘I like mine well done.’

  ‘Oh God!’ wailed Kate, prodding at the meat with a fork. ‘I turned the heat up to make sure it was really cooked. What a disaster! I wanted everything to be special and now it’s all spoiled. And look at me – I must be a real sight, and my clothes smell smoky.’

  Tears seemed close. Luke did some quick thinking. ‘Have you got eggs, milk, butter – maybe some bacon?’

  Kate peered into the fridge. ‘Yes, we’ve got all that. Why?’

  ‘Is there another fryin’ pan? I’ll make us an omelette, while you go and change.’

  Kate stared at him. ‘Oh no, that’s not fair. I invited you for dinner. Look, we could order a takeaway …’

  ‘I can manage, Kate. I like cookin’, really. Just pull that stool over for me. My leg aches a bit.’

  She took the ingredients from the fridge and Luke settled himself at the counter. ‘Now, go. This’ll be ready in twenty minutes.’ He started cracking the eggs into the bowl.

  ‘Bless you,’ Kate said, and kissed his cheek, making his hand waver. ‘I’ll put some oven chips in, shall I?’

  She put a tray of frozen chips into the oven and Luke determined to check the temperature as soon as she left. ‘Kate …’

  She stopped in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

  He looked appreciatively at the sexy black jumper she wore, its wide neck pulled down to reveal her shoulders. ‘That top really suits you. Do you have to change?’

  ‘I’ve got another one just like it,’ she murmured.