Sally quickly moved her onto the sofa and told her to lie down, then ordered Rob to get a damp cloth. Speaking quietly and calmly to Lacey, she said, “It’s okay, breathe in slowly, now out slowly. Close your eyes. Think about your breathing. You can feel it slowing down.”
* * *
Rob hurried back into the sitting room and gently placed the wet cloth across his sister’s forehead while Sally continued to soothe her. When Lacey’s breathing seemed calmer and more controlled, he turned his attention to the box once more.
Sifting through the papers, he found a document that looked like a contract. He unfolded the sheets of paper and saw his parents’ signatures. The headed paper was titled “Agreement between Joe Taylor and Lillian Taylor, re: Monthly Payments”.
Robert’s mind was in turmoil. Here was the reason that his parents’ marriage had lasted.
It stated that Joe Taylor agreed to pay into a bank account, held in Lillian’s name only, the sum of two-and-a-half thousand each month. Robert’s stomach turned; his mother had been paid to raise Lacey.
But why? Why had she been willing to stay and play happy families? Was it all about money? Status? Had his mother been so shallow and easily bought off? His eyes misted over as he thought of the mother he loved. The times he had taken her to lunch and they had shared secrets. Secrets, that’s what had them in this awful mess.
He fumbled through other documents and uncovered, underneath, an envelope with Lacey’s name on it. This was it. This must be what Lacey wanted, and maybe held the answer she sought so badly. As he recognised his dad’s handwriting, a lump rose in his throat.
“Lacey, how are you feeling?” His voice was gentle, he wasn’t sure if he should say anything or just let his sister rest.
“Much better, Rob.” Lacey was still lying down with her eyes closed. Sally, kneeling nearby, looked over at Robert. He gestured towards the envelope in his hands but Sally shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t know what to do, either. Robert decided for both of them.
“Don’t sit up too quickly, Sis, but I’ve found Dad’s letter to you.” Lacey heard the emotion in her brother’s voice.
“Easy, Lacey,” Sally whispered.
The young woman swung her legs off the sofa and stared at the envelope in Robert’s hand. It was bulky, but the handwriting was recognisable, their dad’s familiar script across it.
As Robert handed the letter to her, she took it hesitantly, her hand shaking.
“I’ll make some tea.” Sally stood up and went towards the kitchen, beckoning Robert to follow.
“Let me help you, Sal.” He followed his sister out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Left alone, Lacey sat holding the letter. Should she open it now? Would this answer all her questions? Carefully and deliberately, she peeled the sealed envelope apart, keeping her focus on her breathing as she slipped the pages slowly out.
Unfolding the sheets, she saw the familiar writing, and as she read, the tears pricked her eyes.
My Darling Lacey,
I hope what’s written in this letter will clarify how you came to be here. I’m writing this, not to hurt you, but to reassure you how much you are loved and wanted. Lillian, I am sure, has explained to you the special circumstances surrounding your birth. Your mum – your real mum, Cora – was young and starting out in her life.
Cora and I were not a quick fling but a real relationship. We met through friends, and even I was surprised when she asked to meet me again. There were no secrets; she knew I was married and had a family. But how often do you hear that you can’t help who you fall in love with?
Lillian and I were growing apart but I could never leave my children, and Lillian knew this was the trump card she held against me. I’m not claiming to be a saint; Lillian had her problems, though, and she needed me, so we came to an agreement.
But then, my sweet little one, you came along and changed our lives and plans forever. I would not be without you. Cora was only starting her career and too young to take on four children. Yes, I was leaving Lillian and taking the others with me. But Cora found it difficult. I do not judge her, Lacey, and nor should you. It is easy to condemn until you remember it was a different Ireland you were born into.
I hope Lillian has been honest with you. She is a woman who seeks acceptance, and status is everything. Yes, she can be harsh, but she is a strong woman who has fought her own battles through the years. But even the strongest person has a weakness.
You do not need to know every detail, but just that you are a wanted, cherished little girl who has brought me so much joy and love, as indeed your sisters and brother have through the years.
I pray Lillian has the heart to be honest. She hated that she depended on me so much, but the agreement we made suited all parties. Over time, we did become a family in the real sense, and for the most part your special birth was put behind us. It was Cora’s request that we cut ties with each other, and although I offered her photos and letters, she declined.
Cora did not take one penny from me, I may add, in case you think she was with me for my money! No, she was not like that.
Lacey, this letter probably seems confused and hesitant, and maybe so, but I am trying to explain a complicated situation without making a villain out of the people involved. We all made mistakes but we all gained so much more.
I got another daughter to love; your mum, Cora, her chance to follow her dream; and Lillian, the income and stability she craved in society.
I cannot tell you how much you are loved Lacey. Your brother and sisters dote upon you; they fuss over you and watch you.
One last thing, my darling baby, it is I who chose your name. You were so small and delicate and fragile when you were born that you reminded me of the fine, elegant and dainty lace my own mother would crochet, and so I named you Lacey.
Do not judge me or the others harshly. Hold onto knowing you are wanted and loved, and always will be.
Forever,
Dad xxxxx
CHAPTER FORTY
She put the letter down. There was so much to take in, her head was pounding. The letter gave her answers, but not enough. She now had confirmation that the fashion designer Cora Maguire was her mother. She also knew that her father really had loved her and that she was by no means a mistake in their lives.
The rattle of cups and cutlery in the kitchen reminded her she was not alone. Dragging herself off the sofa, she strolled out to join the others.
“Okay?” Sally put her hand reassuringly on Lacey’s arm.
“Here, if you want to read it.” She handed the pages to Sally, who took a deep breath and proceeded to read the words before her.
“It confirms Cora is my mum, but it mentions other stuff that I’m not sure of,” Lacey explained, pulling out a chair. More bloody questions and apparently no answers, she thought, with confusion still surrounding her.
Robert placed a cup of tea in front her. He too placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.
“Oh my God, Dad was going to leave Mum!” Sally’s pale face revealed her shock. She grabbed the back of a nearby chair to steady herself.
“What! Hang on a minute.” Rob took the letter from his sister, his eyes widening in disbelief as he read it through. Silence settled like a cloak around them.
“When did he write this?” Rob looked stunned. He turned over the page looking for a date or a clue that would answer his question.
“Philip Sherman said it was some time after I was born; I was only a toddler, I guess. He put it in their personal safety box and I was to receive it after Dad died.”
“Did Mum know about this?” Sally asked, finding her voice again.
“Yes, Dad says so. And so does Philip,” Lacey sighed, disgust at Lillian’s behaviour seeping through her once more. Her stepmother’s antics were unbelievable. How could one harbour such dislike for so long? Surely she hadn’t lived her life in total hatred towards Lacey? Had she ever had even one ounce of good feeli
ng towards her?
“What’s next?” Rob wondered aloud.
“I’m going to look for my mum.” Lacey stood up, ready for battle.
“But what did he mean about Lillian’s weakness? What’s all that about?” The letter had answered some questions but there was too much left unsolved and it needed to be clarified.
“What else is in the box?” Sally asked, heading back through to the sitting room.
There were other letters, bank statements, more old photos, and an envelope that had an official-looking stamp on it.
The bank statements were in Lillian’s name and showed regular monthly payments into the account. Robert’s trained eye straight away picked up that on the third Wednesday of every month, two-and-a-half thousand pounds was lodged and, when the currency changed to the euro, it became three thousand each month.
The money was withdrawn in different amounts and the account always emptied before next payment. It was obvious this had something to do with whatever arrangement had been made between Joe and Lillian.
Sally groaned as she lifted out an official document; it was a legal and binding contract, drawn up in the offices of Philip Sherman between her parents, and held the reason why Lillian agreed to raise Lacey. It also named the firm who had dealt with Lillian’s actual adoption of Lacey.
Laying the document on the table, she went to the drinks cabinet and poured a large whiskey. The others looked at her, questioning the unusual behaviour.
“Don’t ask,” she replied to their stares, gazing at the amber liquor glistening in the clear crystal tumbler. “Believe me! You’ll both be joining me when you read that contract.”
“What contract?” Lacey snapped up the letter Sally had been reading. “What the–”
“No, please, no more surprises,” Robert raised his hands in defence.
“Want one of these?” Sally held her glass up and looked at Lacey.
“No, no thanks. This is just crazy. What else is hidden in this box?”
Robert finally put his hand out for the contract. Lacey handed it to him and, as he read it, she saw his eyes widen in amazement.
“I’ll have what you are having,” he nodded towards Sally.
For the second time that day, the Taylor siblings fell silent. What an explosion of revelations they had discovered. Was there no end to what would be disclosed? The answers Lacey needed were indeed there in black and white. Her mum was Cora Maguire; her father and birth mother had loved each other; Lillian had despised her, but in order to satisfy her own selfish life, she had agreed to raise Lacey. It was a miracle that the Taylor children had grown into such well adjusted adults.
“Did Willow know about this, do you think?” Robert’s voice sounded sad.
“It’s possible. She was close to Mum. She was very protective of her,” Sally replied.
“Is that why she did what she did?” he asked in a sorrowful tone that revealed how he missed Willow.
“What do you mean?” Sally’s puzzled look matched Lacey’s.
“Well, did she think she was like Mum with her addiction? Mum had her...her gambling,” his voice trailed off, clearly embarrassed saying it aloud.
“Who would have thought it?” Sally whispered. “I guess it’s possible. Anything’s possible.”
“But why didn’t Willow seek help?” Lacey questioned aloud.
The contract revealed that Joe Taylor would make a monthly payment into an account in Lillian’s name. She would have the freedom to do whatever gambling she wanted and, by Joe funding her habit, she agreed to raise Lacey. The bank statements they found backed everything up.
It all made sense now. If Joe had left Lillian for Cora, she would not have the finances to enjoy her habit. So the arrangement had been made. Joe remained with his wife and children, Lillian retained the life she had become accustomed to.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
When Robert filled Aoife in about the letters in the metal box, she was speechless. What a web had been spun! Who would have believed the secrets that lay behind the Taylors’ front door?
Feelings of guilt overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what bothered him most. How did his father settle for a life with a woman he didn’t love? Or, were there many types of love? He must have loved Lillian when they married. Was it his mother’s gambling that drove his father into the arms of Lacey’s mother? Did she give him the affection he lacked from Lillian?
Robert was confused. He had thought his father must have been the villain but, in an odd way, he appeared now to have been the good guy. Joe had stood by his children, and remained loyal to Lillian by not abandoning her. But yet, instead of paying her money to indulge her habit, why hadn’t he sought professional help for her? Maybe he had, who knew?
Grabbing the car keys from the kitchen table, he shouted to Aoife that he would be back in an hour or so. He didn’t wait for her answer. Right now, all he wanted was peace and quiet, so he drove to the cemetery.
* * *
Kneeling by his parents’ grave, and the fresh earth of Willow’s resting place, he remained still. The leaves twirled downwards around him. The winter was making a grab to the days, with cold winds and black clouds. Pulling his coat collar up around his neck, Robert lightly touched the brown earth before him. Where had it all gone wrong? Willow shouldn’t be dead. She should be here, alive, with them; with Derek. Was life so complicated that seeking help was so difficult?
Robert cut a sad figure. His body sagged under the weight of his weariness, his head low and his face gaunt. His dark eyes had lost their sparkle. He didn’t cry; he couldn’t. He just felt numb. All that had happened had drained him.
He’d thought that the solitude here would ease his mind. Instead, he was more troubled by his thoughts. Thank God for Aoife. She was his one beacon of light in this long, dark tunnel.
Were they destined to be together, or was she just a comfort for him, a shoulder to lean on? Would they stand the test of time? When he didn’t need her any more, would he still want her? Would she want him?
His father had loved two women; maybe Aoife wasn’t the right woman, and later he would meet his soul-mate. He couldn’t think straight any more, his mind was just a maze of jumbled thoughts.
The few leaves in nearby trees were rustling as a cold breeze gathered around him, making him shiver as he stood to leave. He looked around at the many headstones, a sea of black and grey that swept before him. Watching other visitors to the cemetery, he wondered what secrets had been revealed when their loved ones died. Was everyone hiding a lie? Slowly he headed home.
* * *
“Is that you, Robert?” Aoife’s voice greeted him as he took off his jacket.
“Who are you expecting?” he teased, as he hugged her, the scent of her perfume filling his mind with pleasurable thoughts.
“I was worried about you,” she said, and stood back to take in his tired face.
“I went to the graves. Aoife, everything seems so unreal right now. Kneeling there, I thought the stillness would calm my mind but it only filled me with more questions.” He leaned wearily against the nearby worktop.
“Anything I can help with?” For her, they were a proper couple now and so should be there for each other.
Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders. Should he reveal his doubts about their relationship? What if she wasn’t in it for the long haul? Or what if he wasn’t? Should he cut her loose now? Allow her to go before either of them got hurt more than necessary?
Gazing at her now, he knew for certain he wanted her in his life, no matter what.
“Come here, I need another hug.” He reached for her, smiling.
As he wrapped his arms around her, she kissed his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Robert gently toyed with her hair and breathed in the scent of Green Tea by Elizabeth Arden. Holding her close felt good, it felt right. Would this bubble of happiness burst and his heart break? Again he kissed the top of her head, seeking reassurance in her arms.
She smiled a
t his tender touch and cuddled in closer. “We will be okay, Rob. The storm will pass soon. Remember, pet, you’re not alone in this,” she whispered.
His back stiffened. It was as though she had read his thoughts; her words of consolation hadn’t soothed him, but surprised him. He suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“Better go in and do some work.” He broke the hug and stepped aside.
“Work? It’s Saturday!” she said, puzzled by his action.
“Need to catch up on some stuff. I’ve neglected it a bit with all the family issues turning up.”
He couldn’t look her in the eye as he shuffled off. He knew she was baffled by his behaviour, and promised himself he would explain it all another time.
* * *
Pulling out of the driveway, he phoned Derek. Robert allowed it to ring until the answering machine kicked in, but didn’t bother leaving a message. Instead, he would call in to check on his brother-in-law. He had never really intended to go into the office; he just needed to be out and about.
He wondered what Derek would do now that he was alone. Would he consider another relationship at some point? If he did, how would the Taylors handle it? This was crazy thinking, Robert knew. His sister was not long dead, for goodness sake.
Pulling into Derek’s driveway, Rob noticed that the garden Willow had enjoyed was a little overgrown. The windows were grubby, and the whole house had a lonely feel to it.
He pressed the doorbell and waited. He tried it again. Maybe Derek was out with his golf buddies. Why should he be at home mourning? But then, through the glass panels, he noticed the shadow approach the front door.
“Hi, Robert, come in.”
“Just popping by for a minute, how are you?” Rob said, following the other man into the kitchen.
Scattered around were foil trays and plastic containers, evidence of half-eaten takeaways abandoned on the worktops.
“Coffee?” Derek switched the kettle on.
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