Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit)

by Connor, Isabella

  ‘Kate!’ Matt’s arms immediately encircled her in a brotherly bear hug.

  ‘You look tired,’ said Kate, kissing his cheek and following him into the flat.

  ‘Lousy night,’ Matt explained. ‘Too much going on in my head.’

  Kate held up a box. ‘I’ve brought your favourite jam doughnuts. From the bakery – not the crap supermarket ones. Won’t spoil your dinner, I hope.’

  ‘I’ve always room for doughnuts.’

  Five minutes later, they were settled at the kitchen table, eating the sugary treats. Almost like old times except Matt’s face was troubled. ‘What a bloody mess this all is,’ he said. ‘Me and Luke, me and Dad, Dad and Luke, you and your mum … he’s quite the provocateur, my little brother.’

  Kate was immediately defensive. ‘It’s not just down to Luke.’

  ‘Well, to be fair – it’s all down to Luke. But not his actual fault, if that makes any sense. By the way, your mum was beside herself when she saw you on the news at the protest. She asked me to try and persuade you to go home but I’ve no intention of doing that. I’m not into banging my head on brick walls.’

  Sarah would use anyone she could to get to Kate. She’d already been texting Abbie. It was more sad than irritating. ‘Stewart Enterprises are wrong, Matt. Ruining land, forcing people to give up their homes. Life shouldn’t be all about profit and power. That’s why I’m involved in this protest.’

  ‘But why does Luke have to get so involved, Kate? He’s a newcomer here – why can’t he just settle in and get to know people, especially family, before alienating himself in this way … You don’t think he came here deliberately to wreck the Stewarts for treating his mother badly, do you?’

  Kate thought about that for a moment. It would be naïve to dismiss the idea out of hand, but she didn’t believe Luke was a malicious person. ‘No, Matt, I don’t. He doesn’t like to see people bullied. It’s something he’s lived with all his life. He’s been a victim of bullying at home and because he’s part of the Traveller community.’

  Matt nodded, his face grim. ‘I know – he told me a bit about that. If I ever meet his uncles …’

  Luke had shared that information with Matt before he’d even told her, which proved Luke trusted his brother. That had to be something she could build on. ‘Will you go and see him tomorrow, have a chat with him? Let him see you support him?’

  Matt nodded. ‘I’m glad he’s got you, Kate. I don’t want him to feel alone.’

  That was reassuring. Other people, notably her mother and Jack, were concerned Luke was going to hurt her in some way, but Matt was worried about Luke.

  ‘You’ve got jam on your chin,’ said Matt, licking sugar off his lips and trying to stop his own jam escaping.

  Kate swore under her breath. ‘Not just my chin. Look – it’s all down my top and my jeans. What a waste!’

  There was a knock at the door and Kate jumped. ‘Who’s that?’

  Matt peered through the curtains into the parking lot. ‘It’s my grandfather’s car!’ exclaimed Matt.

  ‘I don’t want to see him,’ said Kate. ‘I’m sure I’ll say something he’ll regret. I’ll go into the bathroom and clean this mess off my clothes. I look like a Wes Craven victim.’

  Through the paper-thin walls of the bathroom, Kate heard Nicholas say, ‘I thought maybe you weren’t in.’ The arrogance of the man irritated her. So used to never being kept waiting. She attacked the jam on her clothes with even more vigour, imagining she was pounding Nicholas’s arrogant face. She’d never like him much, but now she hated him for the way he’d treated Luke.

  ‘What do you want, Granddad?’ Matt asked.

  ‘Do we need a reason to talk, Matt? We are family, after all.’

  Matt snorted. ‘I’d say our days of cosy Sunday lunches are over.’ Kate wanted to kiss him for that.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why! You need to ask after your performance the other night? I’ve left home, Dad spent the weekend playing ostrich with a piece of skirt in Ireland, and Luke’s been treated like shit!’ He flung out the last word aggressively, but Nicholas took the outburst calmly.

  ‘Jack needs a break right now,’ he said. ‘The past few weeks have been a terrible strain on him. But let’s talk about you, Matt. I sense you’re restless. Hardly surprising, given your talents are not being fully utilised …’

  ‘I’m not going to join Stewart Enterprises, so don’t even suggest it,’ interrupted Matt.

  ‘I wasn’t going to. I know the business isn’t what you want. I have another proposal I’d like you to consider. I’ve just had a chat with Dylan Weston. He’s considering selling The Swan over in Hadleigh. As you know, his wife’s a London girl at heart, so they’re thinking about moving down there.’

  That was big news. The Swan was a popular pub. Sarah’s nearest rival. Part of the reason she’d decided on the nightclub was to try to tempt away some of Dylan’s regulars.

  ‘My proposal is, Matt, that I buy The Swan for you. It would be in your name – you’d be the sole owner. I’ll support you for the first year until your profits kick in. I plan on buying it anyway, so if it’s not for you, it’ll still be in the family. Maybe Gavin …’

  Matt’s dream was to have his own pub to run and local ones were few and far between, especially of The Swan’s quality. Seeing Gavin reach that pinnacle first would kill Matt.

  ‘I’m too young, too inexperienced,’ he said.

  ‘I know someone on the Licensing Commission,’ said Nicholas. ‘He owes me a favour. There would be only one condition. All I ask is that you don’t do anything to disgrace the Stewart name. You need to establish good contacts, not just in business, but socially.’

  That set alarm bells ringing. Kate could guess where Nicholas was heading.

  ‘Life can be tough,’ Nicholas continued. ‘Sometimes we have to make difficult choices. We need to be driven by what’s best for ourselves. Our futures. This could be the making of you, Matt. A chance to show everyone what you can do. However unfair it might seem, Travellers are undesirable. If you’re associated with one, you’ll get the cold shoulder from people who could otherwise help you up the ladder. Do it right, and you could have one of the most successful pubs in the country.’

  Kate was outraged. It was all she could do to stop herself rushing out of the bathroom and slapping Nicholas’s face. If Matt needed any more convincing, this was proof of just how little his grandparents thought of Luke.

  ‘Let me get this straight, Granddad. You’ll set me up in my own business, as long as Luke isn’t in my life?’

  Nicholas nodded. ‘Can you blame me, after that performance today? The boy is like a virus. Infecting everyone he comes into contact with. Why else would Kate Walker have been protesting – and Timothy Leighton, of all people. Don’t throw away an opportunity like this for a virtual stranger who may not even be your brother. Take some time to think it over.’

  Kate waited for Matt to tell his grandfather to shove his offer, but he said, ‘I’ll think about what you’ve said, Granddad. You’ll have my answer tomorrow.’

  As soon as Kate heard Nicholas leave, she confronted Matt. ‘You have got to be kidding! Please tell me you’re not seriously considering that disgusting offer.’

  ‘Whoa!’ said Matt. ‘Give me a break here. I said I’d think about it. There’s no harm in that.’

  Kate wanted to cry. This wasn’t Matt speaking. Not her precious Matt, her big brother, her best friend as long as she could remember. ‘No harm? Accepting means cutting Luke out of your life.’ Kate couldn’t recall a time when she’d ever felt so angry. ‘What will he say when he hears you’ve traded him in for a pub?’

  ‘It wouldn’t have to be forever … just until I’d made a name for myself. Then I’d be in a position to help Luke – offer him a job. Maybe we could
be partners. I could refurbish The Swan, get good reviews in magazines and guidebooks … if I made a success of it, I could go anywhere and kiss Granddad’s conditions goodbye. I’d be doing it as much for Luke as for me …’

  Kate pulled on her jacket and picked up her bag. ‘You keep telling yourself that, Matt.’ At the door, she paused and went back to the kitchen table to take the remaining doughnuts. Let Matt buy his own. ‘And you can think of those as our last supper.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Waiting for their coffees in the café close to Stewart Enterprises, Luke and Tim paid little attention at first to the man sitting in the corner. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, and appeared to be using a newspaper as a shield. When he lowered the newspaper, however, Luke realised with some shock it was Matt. And he was waving Luke over to his table.

  ‘I’ll take these on out,’ said Tim, handing Luke a polystyrene cup of coffee and putting the rest on a tray. ‘You take all the time you need.’ Luke watched him go and felt a rush of affection for his new friend, who pretended to be the world’s worst gossip but was really the soul of tact and discretion.

  ‘All right, bro?’ asked Matt when Luke went over to his table and sat down.

  Luke nodded. ‘You?’

  ‘I am now,’ said Matt. ‘Got a few things sorted in my head. You know how it is – everything can be a fog and then it lifts.’

  Luke wasn’t sure he did know how it was but he murmured agreement anyway. ‘So what are you doin’ here, Matt?’

  ‘Got to see Granddad. He came to see me and made me an offer I’d be stupid to refuse.’

  ‘The pub at Hadleigh.’ Luke knew all about the offer. An angry Kate had told him about it when she arrived home yesterday. It had taken a massage, a footrub and a whole tub of ice cream to calm her down.

  ‘I promised him an answer today. Did Kate tell you the conditions?’

  Luke nodded. ‘Yes. She also told me why you were considerin’ it.’

  Kate had been more than a little surprised when Luke had said he understood where Matt was coming from. A year out of their lives might not be so bad if the end result meant some kind of security for both Matt and Luke. It wasn’t Luke’s idea of a career move but obviously Matt had good intentions. ‘You’d be mad to turn it down,’ he said.

  Matt opened his eyes in surprise then reached out and tugged at Luke’s protest T-shirt. ‘Have you got a spare one of these?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I am mad … and stupid. I’m here to join you. I want to go and tell Granddad what to do with his offer, and I want to be wearing one of these when I do.’

  Matt gave him a hug and it was the best feeling in the world. Things were right again between them. Soon Jack and Nicholas would find out The Good Ship Stewart had just sprung an almighty leak.

  Jack slammed down the phone. How much worse would this all get? Canalside Leisure had just put final negotiations on hold, nervous about the adverse publicity the protest was bringing. A year Jack had spent setting that deal up. All wasted.

  The door opened and Richard barged in. The man who’d created this whole nightmare. The last person Jack wanted to see. He flicked open his laptop and snapped, ‘I’m busy, Richard. Make an appointment.’

  Richard marched up to the desk and set his phone down in front of Jack. ‘You’d better take a look at this photo.’

  Jack took the phone and saw what had obviously made Richard’s day: Matt wearing a protest T-shirt and carrying a placard, Luke beside him. Jack shouldn’t have been surprised, but still he felt the sharp stab of betrayal. He handed the phone back.

  ‘Sir Nicholas knows,’ smirked Richard. ‘Apparently Matt paid him a visit earlier. Perhaps you should lie low for a while.’

  ‘Cowering in corners may be your style, Richard – it’s not mine.’

  Nicholas was in the middle of a phone call. He didn’t look that upset, but then he was the master of the poker face. Jack wandered over to the window and peered out. Perhaps he should go out and confront Matt? The media would have a field day with that, though. Best if he called him when he got home.

  Nicholas ended the call. ‘Have a seat, Jack. I just heard about Canalside Leisure. I’ll go over there this afternoon.’

  Jack sat down, feeling puzzled. If Nicholas knew Matt had joined the protest, why wasn’t it the main topic of conversation?

  ‘Dad, about Matt …’

  To Jack’s amazement, Nicholas shrugged. ‘I’m disappointed, of course. I saw it coming. Did my best. Some you win, some you lose.’

  ‘Did your best. What do you mean?’

  Nicholas was reading his phone messages as he spoke. ‘I offered to buy The Swan pub for Matt if he stayed away from Luke.’

  Jack shot up from the chair as if it had burned him. ‘You did what!’

  Nicholas assessed him critically. ‘I did what you should have done, Jack. Tried to sort out this Luke situation before it went too far.’

  Inside, Jack was shaking with rage. ‘How dare you, Dad! I told you not to interfere, that I’d deal with Matt.’

  ‘So I jumped the gun a bit – what’s wrong with that?’

  ‘He probably thought I put you up to it. You’ve just made things worse.’

  Nicholas stood up, looking angry. ‘How could things be any worse than they are already? You botched things badly, bringing that trailer trash back here. He’s got Kate Walker and Tim Leighton onside. Now we’re losing Matt.’

  ‘You lost us Matt by your interference. He probably thought he was being manipulated – which he was.’

  ‘Well, someone had to do something. You’ve been worse than useless. Where’s the son I raised? You’ve never been spineless before …’

  Before he knew what he was doing, Jack had pulled his fist back, ready to punch his father’s face. He was so close to doing it and shocked by how much he wanted to. It took all of his willpower to lower his fist. What was happening to him? He was losing it, badly.

  Nicholas shook his head. ‘We both love this company, Jack,’ he sighed. ‘That’s why we get so overwrought when someone attacks it. You should use some of that fight in you to protect it, not the opposite.’

  Was that grudging admiration in his father’s eyes? God, how twisted was that? ‘Dad … I’m going home …’

  ‘Maybe that’s best. Give yourself some time to cool off.’

  ‘No … I want to take a leave of absence … a couple of weeks …’

  ‘We’re in the middle of a crisis here!’

  ‘I know. I just … can’t deal with it right now. Sorry.’

  ‘Jack!’

  He turned and left. Walked right out of the building, into his car, and once through the protestors, drove home at speed. After downing over half a bottle of whisky, he was finally able to drift into oblivion on the living room sofa.

  Jack was dreaming about Ireland. He was near the Powerscourt Waterfall, trying to find Emer. She’d said something about skinny-dipping and then disappeared. Suddenly, Sarah was there, telling him Emer had made a fool of him. ‘Get lost!’ he told her.

  ‘I beg your pardon!’

  That was his mother’s voice. Why in God’s name was she there? Jack jerked awake. He was lying on the living room sofa and Grace was standing over him, frowning. He sat up and groaned. His head throbbed. The nearly empty bottle on the coffee table was the culprit. Of course, Grace had seen it.

  ‘Now I see why you didn’t answer any of my calls yesterday.’

  Yesterday? He must have slept right through. He looked at his watch. Just turned ten. He rubbed his aching neck and sighed. ‘Good morning, Mother.’

  ‘Is it?’ she responded. ‘Forgive me if I think otherwise since I can no longer hold my head up in Baronsmere.’

  The real reason for her visit. Not ge
nuine concern for him, just for what the world would think about the Stewarts. ‘I apologise for ruining your social life, Mother,’ he drawled.

  ‘It’s not just my life you’re ruining – you seem intent on destroying your own as well.’

  ‘I’m hardly on the slippery slope to oblivion.’

  She looked pointedly at the whisky bottle. ‘Really?’

  Jack felt wrong-footed and irritable. ‘I need to freshen up. How about some coffee? Maggie’s away, so would you mind making it?’

  While Grace went into the kitchen, Jack trudged upstairs and into his bathroom. Showering and shaving helped him feel more focused, but it did little to improve his mood. Only his mother’s exit would help with that. He downed two painkillers and prayed they’d work quickly.

  When he entered the kitchen, Grace pushed a mug of instant across the table. She probably had no idea how to work a coffee machine. ‘Thanks,’ he said, taking a welcome gulp. There was an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the lilac bush blowing against the window and Honey’s restless skulking around the kitchen.

  ‘That dog isn’t getting enough exercise,’ stated Grace. ‘She’ll run to fat.’

  Jack sighed at this interference. ‘She’s fine.’

  Grace was watching him like a hawk. Probably waiting for an apology. Best to get it over with. ‘I assume Dad told you I nearly hit him. I’m sorry. I was out of control. That’s why I came home. I need a break.’

  ‘Your father’s very concerned. He wanted to come over to see you this morning, but …’

  ‘He’s got a business to run, profits to make, people to crush.’

  ‘Jack! It’s not like you to be so cynical. The business is what supports us all, keeps us comfortable. And you know it means everything to your father.’