My Husband's Sin

by Mary T Bradford

  “What’s so funny, Philip?”

  “That sounded like a speech directed at a jury.” He laughed properly this time.

  Lacey smiled. She had an idea, but she would keep it to herself for now. Later, she would do a bit of research and maybe even take a little trip. Her mood brightened, the spark returned to her eyes as she schemed.

  When she left Philip’s office, she felt better.He seemed heartened to see her regain some enthusiasm, which pleased Lacey. He always made her feel grown-up and in control. His friendship was so special to her. I owe him so much, she thought.

  * * *

  The two sisters agreed there would be no long goodbyes or teary farewells. Sally wouldn’t give Lacey her exact departure date but they agreed that when the day came for her to leave, they would go about their normal routine. It was not going to be a “goodbye” but a “see you later”. After all, they had Skype and e-mails, so the distance between them would not be a great obstacle.

  Lacey investigated her own travel arrangements. She looked up hotels, and compared fares for both ferry and aeroplane. There wasn’t much difference in price, so she opted for flying. It would mean less time travelling, especially when she only had a weekend scheduled for the trip to Chester in England.

  Sally’s excitement of going to pastures new spilled over into the Taylor house. There was a gaiety and lightness that took the sting out of her leaving. Lacey loved how Sal always thought positively; everyone relaxed in her company. The darkness of Lillian’s and Willow’s deaths was no longer centre stage in Sally’s life.

  “What are you up to tomorrow?” she asked Lacey, as they climbed the stairs on what was to be her last night.

  “I’m meeting a few friends from work for lunch, what about you?”

  “Me? Nothing major, maybe go to India at some time during the day.” She smiled, but Lacey stopped and held onto the banister.

  “Is that tomorrow?” Lacey was surprised.

  “So, take care of yourself and keep in touch.” Sally put her arms around Lacey and held her tightly. Neither knew when they would see each other again, and both were trying hard to control tears as they turned to go into their bedrooms.

  “Sleep well, Sally. I’ll see you later, okay?” Lacey didn’t dare look back.

  At four am, a car pulled into the driveway. Lacey heard her sister tip-toeing down the stairs, then the click of the front door closing behind her.

  She got out of bed and moved to the window. Lacey peered out and saw Sally getting into a taxi, with a quick glance up at the house. Lacey waved, and her sister waved back.

  As the car pulled away, Lacey looked up at the stars in the blackness of the night and wished upon them. This was it, she sighed, slipping back into bed. It was now her time to make a difference in her life. Next weekend she would go to Chester and visit her mother. Whether or not she would tell Cora who she was, Lacey would decide when she got there.

  “Travel safely, Sally,” she whispered to the darkness, and pulled the duvet closely around her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  The flight to Liverpool was uneventful. Lacey had travelled lightly, taking only one piece of hand luggage with her. She took a taxi to Lime Street railway station and, within 45 minutes of boarding the train, she was in Chester. She quickly checked into her hotel then went out to explore.

  The city was buzzing. She wandered down the cobbled streets and marvelled at the black and white buildings which were one of the city’s main tourist attractions. Dating from medieval times, they were called “the Rows” and consisted of covered walkways at the first floor level, with shops and other premises behind. Then beneath, at ground level, were more shops and businesses.

  Further on, she could see the Eastgate Clock, claimed to be the most photographed clock in England after Big Ben. It was certainly impressive. The black Roman numerals with the bright red and gold colouring gave it a majestic feel. It had been erected to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee and unveiled for her eightieth birthday.

  This weekend might prove fruitful, Lacey thought; even the weather was working in her favour. No rain, just frosty cold days.

  Feeling peckish, she went for some lunch. The choice of cafés was delightful. There were old-fashioned tearooms or the more modern internet types to choose from. She settled on a cosy, homely tearoom and ordered a toasted special. The surroundings were delightful – vintage buttercream walls with old sepia photos of Chester past, in slim black frames; green and white patterned tablecloths providing a cosy, informal feel; friendly and pleasant staff.

  Outside, the street was full of young people, the men as groomed as the females. It seemed like an upper-class city, yet without any snobbishness. After lunch, she strolled further down the side streets enjoying the sense of history all around her. She discovered the Roman Walls and walked the outskirts of the city. Wandering along, she passed the racecourse and looked down on the splendid stadium where thousands of tourists visited for racing events.

  As the evening closed in, Lacey went back to her hotel. She had purposely not searched for Cora’s shop. She first wanted to soak in the atmosphere of where her birth mother had decided to settle. She ate her evening meal and settled in the hotel bar with a drink and a good book for company. Yet she couldn’t concentrate; her mind was filled with thoughts of how different her life could have been if she had grown up with Cora.

  Her name would be Maguire – Lacey Maguire, living in England, with different friends and very probably different expectations from life. She would, without doubt, be a whole different person. This would be home, not Ireland.

  The morning came quickly. Showered and dressed, she stepped out again into the cobbled streets. The magnificent cathedral was first on her agenda for today – then Cora’s shop. Following the tourist signs, she strolled up St. Werbrugh Street, catching sight of the dark brown stonework in the distance, the railings surrounding it, and the entrance way ahead of her.

  She stepped through the cathedral’s arched doorway. Inside, she was met with a welcoming craft shop, and the story of the splendid church displayed. The tranquillity and peace was comforting, especially in the hidden corners and altars tucked off the main aisle, while the beautiful carvings and windows almost demanded that visitors admire them.

  Lacey sat in one of the pews and prayed silently. Not for herself, but for her siblings, and for Joe and Lillian. It was through their lives, their decisions, that she had now come to be here, in this city, on this day.

  Moving on from the cathedral, Lacey spotted the town hall with a tourist office nearby. She went into the office and bought some postcards and picked up some leaflets on the attractions available for the many tourists to enjoy while in Chester. There was a choice of walks, from haunted tours in the evenings to talks on the Roman highlights. She picked up some colourful fridge magnets as tokens for her brother and Philip. Of course, if she decided not to tell them of her visit, the gifts could remain in the white paper bag.

  She stepped back out into the winter day. It was dry with a light breeze, but not too cold. She sat on one of the nearby benches and people-watched, gathering the courage to continue her quest. Pigeons and doves gathered at her feet. Looking for crumbs from lunch, they remained close, in competition with each other for the pickings.

  Where would she start to seek out “Bridal Creations”? She could ask a passer-by, of course, but secretly she wanted to discover it herself. This, after all, was her adventure. Casting a look around, she spied a woman carrying a large bag with Cora’s shop name on it. The bag was lilac with pink writing, the words Bridal Creations written in italic within a heart. What a lucky break! Maybe it was closer than she realised.

  She jumped up and started to look around. She passed fashion shop after fashion shop, broken up by bookshops or jewellers. She crossed to the next street, and there, sandwiched between two hat shops, was “Bridal Creations”.

  Lacey stood still, feeling almost faint as it slowly sank in that her
birth mother was quite possibly only a few hundred metres away. The shop boasted two large display windows, with the entrance in the centre. On the window to the left were two beautiful designs – a sleek cream dress on one mannequin, and a soft ivory on another. The other window held examples of bridesmaid dresses – some short with fur shrugs, suitable for winter weddings; others in cheerful colours for summer. Cora’s name was not displayed on the shop front; there was no indication of who had designed the fabulous gowns on display.

  People streamed by as she remained still and silent, trying to decide what to do next. She could peep in the window and see what lay inside. She had to at least look, after coming all this way.

  But, a few steps later, Lacey found herself pushing the door open and stepping inside. This was so surreal; she was actually inside Cora’s world! A little bell announced her entrance as the door eased shut behind her.

  The mannequins were dressed in beautiful gowns. They displayed different designs, some long and flowing, some fitted and slender, others ball-gown style, all elegantly accessorised with costume jewellery. She saw shelves packed with different material, various colours and fabrics, silk and laces and satin. In another corner were veils and fascinators and tiaras, studded with pearls and precious stones. The walls were filled with photos of previous collections and some of celebrities who had worn Cora’s designs on the red carpet.

  “Can I help you?” a young blonde assistant, not much older than Lacey, asked politely.

  “I’m only browsing, hopefully pick up some ideas,” she mumbled in reply. She hadn’t thought about being approached. She hadn’t thought full stop! Lacey blushed at her own stupidity.

  “Take your time. If there is anything you don’t see, maybe we could make it for you.” The assistant smiled, eager to help. “If you wish to try on any of the stock, please feel free to.” The girl was full of encouragement.

  “Thank you.”

  Lacey’s heart was pounding. What if Cora appeared in the shop? This had been stupid, stupid, stupid. But she did not know if Cora was even on the premises. Breathe, Lacey, breathe, she silently chastised herself. Would she even recognise Cora?

  “Are you getting married soon?” the blonde woman asked, keen to draw information from a potential customer as she sorted a nearby rail of garments.

  “Um, yes, no. I mean, I’m planning on maybe next summer.” Lacey knew she sounded so silly.

  The assistant glanced at her left hand and saw no ring. She raised an eyebrow and stared at Lacey. They probably got lots of odd women coming into the shop; women who couldn’t afford the designs, or didn’t have boyfriends but dreamed of walking down the aisle in a designer dress.

  Lacey noticed the woman’s look of pity and realised the glance to her ring finger had given her away. She blushed again but with embarrassment this time.

  “We plan on a short engagement,” she stuttered.

  “Is that an Irish accent? We get a lot of Irish customers, but then our designer Cora Maguire is Irish, of course.” The woman remained professional and engaged her customer with conversation.

  “Are you living here or over for a holiday?”

  Lacey stuttered in her reply. “Dublin. I’m...I’m living in Dublin. I’m...over for the weekend.”

  Lacey kept a smile on her face and moved towards the door. She needed to escape. This was not turning out as she’d hoped, and she knew she was losing control of the situation. This assistant was getting too personal; it completely scared her. What if Lacey said something she didn’t mean to from nerves? Time to escape.

  “Cora is showing her new Spring Collection in Dublin next month. There might be something in the collection that may suit your taste when you decide on your wedding plans. It’s her first showing there in a long time, so there is a lot of excitement about it.” The girl had a sympathetic tone in her voice as she noted Lacey’s scared look as she hurried towards the door.

  “I’ll check it out,” Lacey replied, and shoved the glass door open, almost stumbling out into the fresh air.

  * * *

  A breeze greeted her and she ran to the cathedral railings. Lacey’s hands were shaking, her pulse racing, and sweat breaking out across her forehead in drops. She was both angry and embarrassed with herself. She had acted like a complete fool in the shop, mumbling her words and behaving like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. She needed to focus, to get grounded and calm down. Pressing her head to the cold metal while she took control of her silly behaviour, Lacey wished with all her might that she had never come here. Philip had been right. Life went on around her; no-one was interested in the young girl clinging to the iron railings with clenched fists.

  She gathered herself together and bought a coffee-to-go. After aimlessly wandering around the historic city, she found herself back sitting on a bench not far from the tourist office, watching Cora’s shop. What had she been thinking of by going inside? What had she been hoping for? Finishing her coffee, she watched people pass by, unaware of the turmoil she was feeling. Did she think she would see Cora going in or out of the shop? Was she there now, hidden in the back sewing, or drawing new designs? Had the assistant told her about the strange Irish customer and they both got a laugh out of her odd behaviour? Or would it trigger warning signals for Cora, hearing about the Irish girl?

  The ache in Lacey’s heart grew stronger. She desperately wanted to meet her. She knew now more than ever that she needed it to happen, now that she was so close to the woman who had loved her father, the woman who – with Joe – had created her. Surely Cora felt this, too. How could she not be curious about her own daughter? Did she not want to see what they had in common, shared interests, how Lacey had turned out maybe? Did they look alike?

  That night Lacey didn’t sleep well. Her mind, ever restless, was in chaos. She listened to the strange sounds and noise of this city that was home to her mother. It wasn’t so comfortable in the dark of night in the hotel, as she tossed and turned in the hostile bed; it felt lonely and she longed for her own familiar comforts. Was coming here a mistake?

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  The taxi dropped Lacey outside the house and she was relieved to put the key in her front door and step inside. On the plane journey home she had decided to contact Cora through the proper channels. Her visit had shown her how easily she could have destroyed everything between them if Cora had been present in the shop that day.

  Realising she had acted selfishly; she decided that tomorrow she would pen another letter to her mother and give it to Philip to send. With such a fragile issue, it was dawning on her that she needed to accept the proper procedures.

  Her home was welcoming; even Sally’s absence was acceptable. The familiarity of the surroundings reassured Lacey and she was delighted to find a postcard from Sally along with other mail on the hall mat. It was a quick few lines, letting her know that she had arrived safely in Delhi. She would email Lacey and Rob every so often to keep in touch.

  Lacey pinned the colourful postcard to her fridge, using a Chester magnet. Beside it, she placed a postcard of her own, depicting Roman Chester.

  * * *

  Cora Maguire re-read the letter she had received that morning from Ireland. Lacey was being persistent, a trait she possessed herself. It had stood Cora well as she progressed through her career, and now her daughter was showing the same characteristic. Would it be so harmful to meet the girl? She had ended all contact with that part of her life six weeks after her daughter was born. But that was then.

  She had really loved Joe and had never found such sweet, tender love since. Being pregnant, unplanned in Ireland, was a black mark against women back then. Joe had been so strong and supportive though, willing to leave Lillian to be with Cora and their new baby. It all seemed so romantic now, as she thought back to her early days as a designer. He had been deeply hurt when Cora told him she didn’t want a baby and three older children; she wasn’t ready, not her time in life yet. So Joe had sorted it, like Joe always did with e
verything.

  Now was it time? Was it the right moment to meet her daughter? She would be in Dublin next month and could meet her then. Cora admitted to being curious. This woman, no longer a little baby, wanted to meet her. Why? To heal the past and have closure maybe, to answer countless questions or questions that she felt had been unanswered by her father? What exactly had Joe told her? How was Lillian taking it? Would it mean awkward meetings between old foes?

  Her decision to cut herself out of her daughter’s life had come back to haunt her. Had it been the right decision? Yes, at the time. Over the years she had deliberately refused to acknowledge Lacey’s existence, but there had been many times when she’d tried to picture how her own daughter would look as she designed her dresses. She wondered whether her daughter would approve of the decisions she had made when Lacey was a baby.

  The latest communication through Sherman Solicitors was short but heartfelt. Lacey had not held back in her longing to meet Cora. She had kept her letter brief, but each word had been chosen for its clarity and meaning. Lacey’s words were beginning to break through any barriers Cora tried to keep up.

  The young girl had managed to sell her need, but not her dignity, and that was admirable. It was this which forced Cora to agree to meet while in Dublin, with no guarantees or promises. She sent her letter to Ireland and then waited. The forthcoming show would take up her time until the trip, and she was glad of it. Her energy and mind would be filled with dates, rotas, designs and bookings.

  She would get her answer to her request in Dublin. The ball was now back in Lacey’s court as to whether she would turn up. A part of Cora was secretly delighted and optimistic, which surprised her. But she also knew she would not enjoy a decent night’s sleep again until she dealt with this issue.