Determined to leave all daft thoughts at home, she was looking forward to telling her brother all her news. Mr. Sherman had been really welcoming. They had agreed to meet up again so that she could update him on her progress, but outside the office next time. It would shift the focus of what they chatted about onto a more friendly level; his office was too stiff and formal.
The solicitor had seemed keen to help Lacey. He told her he and Joe Taylor had looked out for each other, and he would be happy to help Joe’s daughter to the best of his ability.
As she approached the pub, Lacey smiled happily. Robert would never abandon her, no matter who her mother was. Was life going her way at last?
Glancing around the pub, she realised she was first there and settled in a corner where they wouldn’t be disturbed by the comings and goings of the other customers. The room was dark and the lighting dim but, once seated and settled, it was easier on the eyes.
She had loads to share with Robert; maybe he would help her in her task. Sipping her iced water, she looked at her watch. It was eight-twenty but she knew parking around the pub could be difficult.
The tables and seating were all dark wood. A single candle on each table was the only adornment; no tablecloths or napkins until the customers ordered food. Simple was the way they worked at O’Reilly’s.
It was the rich laughter that caught her attention. The couple walking in together looked so at ease with each other, engrossed in each other’s company. But Lacey’s smile quickly disappeared when she realised that half of the perfect couple was Robert. What the hell was he playing at bringing Aoife? Surely he knew she needed to talk to him alone.
* * *
Closing up the office, Rob had been surprised to see Aoife still at her desk.
“Are you not going home?” he asked, as he shoved his arms into his black jacket.
“In a second or so. I’m finishing off some orders so they will be ready for your signature in the morning.” She smiled up at him and shuffled some papers, then switched the phone to answer and grabbed her bag. She was almost ready to head home.
“Come on, grab your coat, you can join Lacey and me for a bite to eat.” Rob was still in a positive mood. Getting through so much work had given him a real boost, and he held up his hand to ward off any protests that she might offer.
He and Aoife were sharing a story about one of their colleagues as they entered the dimly-lit pub. Adjusting his eyes to his surroundings, he caught sight of his sister sitting alone at a table tucked away in one corner.
“Hey, Lacey, sorry we’re late. Had to park miles away.” He leaned in to hug her.
“Hi, it’s okay,” she stuttered, as Robert pulled out a chair for Aoife to sit down.
Lacey didn’t look happy. She fiddled with the menu as though hiding her annoyance, her eyes averted from Robert’s gaze.
“I hope you don’t mind, Lacey, it was your brother’s idea for me to tag along.” Aoife looked at the young woman across from her, unsure whether she minded her being there.
“Sure, Aoife. Sorry, my manners are awful.” Lacey managed to replace her smile, but she struggled to summon up any welcoming warmth in the voice.
“So tell me, Sis, what have you been busy with these days?” Robert asked, as he studied the menu, oblivious to the tension he’d stirred up by bringing Aoife along. “The fish here is brilliant, by the way,” he added to Aoife.
“Oh, this and that. I’ve taken some unpaid leave from work to sort–”
“Really, for how long?” he interrupted her.
“Six months to start with. A mini career break, with a view to making it a year,” she spat. Robert was annoying her now, and she pouted in the same way she had as a youngster when things didn’t go her way. But Robert didn’t notice.
“Jesus, Lacey, what for? I mean, surely after what we’ve been through...I would have thought you’d be better off being kept busy, not lounging at home. It’s certainly working for me.” He waved at a waiter who came over to the table. Aoife sat in silence, not daring to interrupt.
Lacey’s mood was blackening by the second. Her brother was bugging her with his questioning and total lack of understanding. She decided to dismiss any chance to talk with him tonight about her plans for the future.
Her big brother was not her rock any more. Lillian’s letter had changed things, whether the others realised it or not. Lacey knew she would have to stand on her own two feet and take responsibility for her decisions. The Taylor family would never be the same again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After the success of their shopping trip, Willow and Sally agreed they would tackle cleaning out Lillian’s clothes and belongings. They were both unsure about asking Lacey to join them; it was potentially both awkward and embarrassing, if not just extremely uncomfortable. In the end they hadn’t – a decision Sally was still unsure about. But it was too late now to include their young sister.
Willow arrived at Sally’s by ten-thirty that morning, armed with boxes and stickers for all the clearing and sorting required. As they put the stickers – Recycle, Charity Shop and Rubbish – on the boxes, Sally smelt alcohol off Willow; a slight whiff, that was all. It was only morning, but Sally reasoned that her sister had maybe had a few glasses too many of wine with Derek the night before.
Their mother had been a tidy woman. Everything in her wardrobe was arranged to colour and season. The girls were amazed at how organised the room was, but it felt strange to be going through her private belongings. It was like they were snooping and she might walk in any minute and ask them what the hell they were doing in her room.
As the bedroom door had been kept closed since her death, the scent of her perfume and lotions still lingered faintly in the air. Her trinket boxes were displayed on her dressing table, along with her brush and mirror set. The book she had been reading lay on her night-stand, the bookmark on page 119 indicating how much she had read. Her slippers – the cheery red tartan ones Willow had given her the previous Christmas – were placed by the end of the bed, and her dressing gown hung from a hook on the inside of the bedroom door. There was stillness in the room, which reinforced the sense of trespassing that the two sisters felt.
“Hey, Sally, look here. Do you remember these?” Willow was holding a pretty box inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and had taken off the lid. She was staring into the ornate box in her hand.
“What have you got?” Sally asked, as she crossed the room.
“Take a look. Do they remind you of anything?” Willow sat on the bed and waited for Sally to speak. Tears pricked at Willow’s eyes.
“Oh my God, the pearls! Oh look, she kept them.” Sally sat beside her sister, both silent, lost in their memories. In the box were twelve or thirteen cream pearls, the very ones they had used to play Treasure Island all those years ago.
“Dear God, Willow, what treasures. How did they not kill us for breaking the necklace and losing most of the pearls in the garden?”
“I know, I think I’d murder any little brats of mine if they did that to me,” she whispered, as she closed the box and laid it on her lap. She ran her fingers gently over the box of memories.
“You keep them, Willow. After all, it was your idea to use them as the treasure!” Sally put her arm around the other woman and gently added, “It’s not too late yet, you know.”
The room was filled with sadness. They were surrounded by memories of so many happy days.
“Too late for what?” Willow asked, as she blew her nose.
“For those little brats you mentioned. You can still have them.”
“No, Sally, not at this stage of our life. We had all the tests and there is no reason why Derek and I can’t have children. We are both in perfect working order.” Sighing, she placed the jewellery box back on the dressing table.
“So what are you saying? You chose not to? That’s okay, too, you know.”
Willow went to the window and opened it to ease the heaviness in the room.
“I
’m saying that I didn’t, really. I always thought I did, but when push came to shove, I couldn’t bear it. I like my freedom, I like being a housewife with time on my hands. I loved my shopping days with Mum. Having children would have stopped all that. Yes, I was lonely at times, but who isn’t? The grass is always greener and all that.”
Sally got up and hugged her sister, but sensed Willow felt uncomfortable with her sympathy. “So long as you and Derek are happy, that’s all that matters,” Sally reassured her. “I’m sure the pair of you have discussed it at length, and it’s for you two to decide, no-one else. Now let’s get on, yeah?”
With renewed energy, they sorted through the closets and drawers, sharing laughter and more tears as memories came flooding back. Sally’s bubbly personality rubbed off on her sister, and the time passed without further hitches.
Their task was almost over when they found a locked metal box underneath a pile of Lillian’s sweaters on the top shelf of her wardrobe. Not very big – about the size of a large, man-size tissue-box – it had been pushed right back into a corner, out of sight. Neither of the girls had seen it before and there was no sign of keys anywhere in the room.
They decided to take a break and took the box downstairs with them, their curiosity aroused. The black metal box, with gold stencilling at each corner, lay on the coffee table.Both women sat in silence staring at it. What should they do next? Should they try opening it? Should they phone Robert and Lacey to tell them about their find? Maybe if they called the others and it turned out to be a simple keepsake box, there would have been a lot of hassle over nothing. After all, it couldn’t be very important. Surely the solicitor had all the papers and documents that were specific to their parents’ estate?
But what if the contents had value of a personal nature? The box remained a mystery.
“Okay, it’s settled so, once we get all the other belongings sorted, we’ll open this box," Sally asked, glancing at Willow for her agreement.
“Suits me. It’s probably photos and bits from our childhood inside there. Remember, Mum loved our paintings and homemade cards. This is probably her memory box, that’s all.”
“I agree. How about we go and grab a bite to eat and finish the rest tomorrow?”
“Well, I have to cook for Derek, so why not join us tonight?” Willow was putting on her cream jacket and grabbing her red leather bag from the nearby chair.
“Give me an hour or so to shower and wash the dust from Mum’s stuff out of my hair, and I’ll call over then. Thanks, Willow,” Sally replied, tiredness pulling at her words.
Taking the metal box upstairs, Sally put it inside her own wardrobe and pushed it towards the back of the closet. It would be safer there in case it got mixed up with Lilian’s belongings that were being thrown out.
* * *
Opening a bottle of white wine while she prepared dinner, Willow was happy. She had enjoyed the day much more than she had expected. Tonight, Sally would help fill the silence that often lingered between her and Derek during mealtimes. The silences had become more common lately, and she’d noticed her husband had taken to eating out more regularly before he came home from work. She never complained, though; it suited her to have him around the house less. She knew he watched her in the evenings when she poured her nightcap, or two.
Tonight would be nice. She had phoned Derek on the way home to tell him that Sally was joining them for dinner, and he had sounded genuinely pleased. Her sister had done something with her life and had entertaining tales to tell about her many travels.
What had Willow done with her life? She shook off thoughts of her earlier conversation with Sally about children. Her sister assumed that Willow and Derek had discussed not starting a family; how wrong she was. She had no idea whether her husband agreed with her decision or not; she was too frightened to ask the question. But that would all take a back seat tonight, they had company for dinner. Willow raised her glass of wine in the air, toasting a hard day’s work well done. The stuffed chicken breasts were in the oven and she would complete the sauce just before serving.
Sipping her wine and topping up her glass, she began to set the dining table. She would use her Denby crockery tonight and the lovely Tipperary crystal glasses. A crisp white linen tablecloth was the finishing touch. She had earned these few drinks. It had been hard work today amid the memories and heartache of clearing her mother’s possessions. Derek wouldn’t understand, of course, but to hell with him and his nagging!
* * *
“I’m home,” Derek shouted, as he hung his jacket on the coat stand. The smell of home cooking wafted through to him and he inhaled deeply. Whatever faults his wife had, her cooking skills were excellent.
“Hi.” She turned from setting the dining table. “Sally will be here shortly. How was your day?”
He hugged her and smiled warmly as she kissed his cheek. Derek desperately wanted his marriage to work, but the strain of being sole provider was getting to him at times. Willow liked to act the part of an upper class lady but she tended to spend more than he earned, leaving him with the headache of balancing the budget. Maybe if they had children things would be different, but he knew better than to broach that subject.
“Ah, fine. Dinner smells wonderful. I’ll just go wash up and be ready in ten minutes.”
“Open some wine, please, when you get a chance, that bottle is almost empty.”
“Have you drunk all of this?” Derek was astonished that his wife could drink a full bottle of wine before dinner.
“No. Sally and I opened it earlier over at hers. We had a couple of glasses with our lunch and then I brought it home with me.”
Willow turned away from her husband and started on the vegetables, but not before he’d noticed the blush on her cheeks. He sighed. At least they weren’t facing another silent dinner for two.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The morning sun was warm on her face as Lacey sat by her apartment window and wrote a list of things she needed to do. The evening with Robert and Aoife had rattled her. Although they’d enjoyed a pleasant meal and the chat had been varied, it hadn’t allowed her the chance to tell him about her plans and her conversation with Mr. Sherman. The urgency and excitement she’d felt about sharing her news had gone and she felt a bit deflated. She was still annoyed with her brother. It wasn’t Aoife’s fault she had been thrown into the meal by Rob; she couldn’t have known about Lacey’s plans.
Philip Sherman had said he would go through other files and find out whatever he could for her. She’d told him she was going to tell Robert of her plan to search for her birth mother, and that had been her intention. After last night, she had decided against it.
“My birth mother, my real mum,” the words tingled on her tongue as she said them aloud, feeling warm and comforted. It was strange to think that her mother was out there, living a life Lacey knew nothing about. She could not entertain the thought of her real mum being dead; she needed to believe she was still alive, for she had a thousand questions she needed answered.
Did she look like her? Lacey knew she resembled her dad in some ways. But where did her love of animals come from, her mother maybe? Her stubbornness and her dislike for celery, were they from her mum’s side? Silly small things suddenly seemed of great importance. Did her mother think about her at all? Was she hoping that Lacey would come looking for her? Maybe her parents had signed an agreement when she was born; was her mother happy about that? Did Joe Taylor send Lacey’s mum photos of her at different ages? Did he keep in touch with her and not tell Lillian? Did her real parents love each other, or was it just a silly affair?
Lacey was so giddy with the potency of it all, she felt she could hardly breathe. Trying to calm herself, she stepped out onto the balcony. The rattan sheeting around the balcony rails was torn in parts; Milly’s handiwork. She wondered what had happened to her cat. It was a couple of weeks now since she’d disappeared. The feeding and drinking bowls lay empty, a sign of another time, and Lacey’s happines
s dimmed a little.
Her cat had been her one constant companion but, like Lacey’s sisters and brother, Milly had shied away from her. She, too, had disappeared from Lacey’s life. Each week she went to the local vet’s practice to see if Milly had been found. There were posters up in the local shops with a picture of the cat, yet there had been no sighting. She thought of Milly’s cute black and white face, and hoped she was okay, that some kind person was looking after her and that she wasn’t lying hurt, crying for help.
Going back indoors, she sat back down at the table and re-examined her list. She had phone calls to make. The one to her work was a priority. She had been mulling over resigning from work, convincing herself that a change of career would be the first step in her new life.
Her funds from her dad made her decision easier. She had never needed to dip into the savings before, something she was glad of now. She needed to concentrate on playing detective to find her birth mother, and didn’t need the distraction of work getting in the way.
Mr. Sherman had only been able to tell her that her mother had been young; early twenties, he recalled, when her father and her mother met. Joe hadn’t wanted her identity known, as he’d believed the less who knew their business the better. Mr. Sherman had never met or even seen a photograph of her, but – based on his conversations with Joe – he knew she was educated but, no, he didn’t know where she came from, he told Lacey. Although he and Joe had chatted about different aspects of the situation, there were certain issues that her father had kept to himself. Everything had been handled properly, nothing underhand had taken place, Mr. Sherman had assured her. But to answer all of Lacey’s questions, he would need to check the storerooms where all his files were kept. He promised that the next time they met he would have more information for her.
Each night Lacey dreamt of meeting her mother. In her dreams, they would agree to meet in a public place, and she would know her instantly. Through the crowds of shoppers, she would pick her mum out and run towards her. There would be a big smile on her mum’s face and her arms would open wide, waiting to hug her long lost daughter. It was all running through the crowds and rose petals falling from the sky, people around them smiling and applauding the big reunion. Lacey would know a real mother’s love at last. The years raised by Lillian would fade, and she would create new family memories. On several occasions, she had woken with tear stains on her face from her dreams.
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