Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3)

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Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3) Page 28

by Jessica Redland


  ‘So do I,’ Callum cried. The phone turned around and focused on him giving the camera a stupid grin, then returned to Shannon.

  ‘If you need a few more days or even a few more weeks in Ireland, we understand. We know you have things to sort out. When you get back, there are things we want to sort out. We still want to get married, but we don’t think we need to run off to Gretna Green this time. We’d like something small, but I’d like you to give me away. We also need to decide where to live. I hear that Whitsborough Bay comes highly recommended. Neither of us has been so there are no guarantees, but if we do decide to make our home there, we’d like you to join us. If you want to, that is.’

  Callum snatched the phone off her. ‘What she meant to say is that you’re still welcome to join us even if we don’t move to Whitsborough Bay.’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘No, it isn’t! You said that she could join us if we decided to make our home there, which implied she couldn’t join us if we settled anywhere else.’

  ‘Bollocks!’

  I giggled at the sound of Shannon using my favourite expletive.

  Shannon snatched the phone back. ‘Okay, so Mr Pedantic here has clarified things. I hope you’ll join us wherever we settle. And we don’t mean as a live-in babysitter or anything like that. I’m sure you’d want and need your own space. We just want to you to be around. Luke needs his grandma and I need my mum.’

  ‘Only if you want to,’ Callum called.

  ‘Yes, only if you want to. Which we hope you do. But, like, there’s no pressure or anything. Well, not much.’ Shannon looked to her right and frowned. ‘Sorry. Got to go. Tablet time. Say goodbye, Luke.’ The camera panned onto Luke, still fast asleep, then onto Callum.

  ‘Thanks, Ben, for coming to visit and filming this. Give Clare a big hug from us all when you see her. Keep us posted.’

  They both chorused, ‘Bye,’ then the video stopped.

  I wiped at my cheeks, but I couldn’t speak. They liked me, they wanted me to live wherever they lived, and Shannon had called me Mum. After a very shaky start, today was shaping up to be the best day ever. I’d discovered that Ma – the woman I hated – was no blood relation to me; I’d discovered that Ellen Shaughnessy – a woman who’d always been friendly, despite knowing what I called her – was actually my mum, and I’d discovered that my daughter – the one who’d resented me all her life – actually wanted me around. I bet Daran was looking down and smiling.

  Chapter 44

  * From Elise

  I’m so sorry. Melody had a temperature spike and I haven’t touched my phone for days. She’s fine now, but I’ve only just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry about your dad. I hope he was kind to you at the end. How were the wake and the funeral? I’ll check my texts intermittently, but I’m not able to answer my phone on baby unit. Thinking of you xxx

  I put my iPhone in my bag as Ben drove us back to the hotel that evening.

  ‘What did Sarah say?’ Ben asked.

  Shite!

  ‘You didn’t call her, did you?’ Ben said, when I didn’t answer. ‘You left a message with Elise but you didn’t call my sister. I don’t understand.’

  ‘It wasn’t deliberate. Elise had texted me with a Melody update so I rang and left a message on Tuesday night. I didn’t think to call Sarah. You’re annoyed with me, aren’t you?’

  ‘Not annoyed, but I am disappointed. I asked you to call her a week ago.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on.’

  ‘I know you have, but she could really use a friend right now.’

  I twisted in my seat so I could see his face, albeit only occasionally lit by the street lighting. ‘Seriously, Ben, stop it with the cryptic stuff. What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m not telling you. Call my sister.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll do it now.’

  ‘Good.’

  I held the phone to my ear. ‘Switched off and no voicemail.’

  ‘At least you tried. Try again later.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ I saluted him.

  ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to lecture you. I’ll shut up about it now. What do you fancy doing tonight?’

  ‘I could do with a long, hot bath, then a lie-down on the bed with a film.’

  ‘Do you want some company? I mean, for the film, not in the bath!’

  I laughed. ‘Just as well. The bath’s not that big.’

  ‘Do you think the hotel will be full, with it being a weekend?’

  ‘I doubt it, but why?’

  ‘I need a room.’

  I nudged him. ‘Don’t be daft. It’s pointless you shelling out when I’ve got a kingsize bed. I think I can trust you for another night. I might even let you sleep under the duvet this time.’

  A bath, followed by room service and a movie, was exactly what I needed. It felt more like our usual weekend together: safe and predictable. It would have been even better with an Indian or Chinese, but burgers and fries made a pretty good replacement. We didn’t register that the burgers would come with gherkins. Ben hates gherkins. The texture and smell of them make him gag. So, of course, I challenged him to eat his and mine without gagging, vomiting or even pulling a disgusted face. All credit to that man. He rose to the challenge. I didn’t even mind passing the king back to him on the day I’d won it, because it felt good to be exchanging him for something much more light-hearted than the previous couple of times it had changed hands.

  I’d really needed that evening of stupidity, banter and a complete avoidance of talking about anything complicated, like my family or the rape. I knew I would need to talk about the rape, especially as it raised questions around Shannon’s parentage, but I didn’t need to do it at that moment. I already knew that I was going to seek the professional help that Ben had suggested because I suspected that, when I fully recovered from the shock about Ma and Ellen and everything that meant for my family, the rape would be the only thing I could think about. And it could destroy me. I didn’t want to be that person. I wanted to get through it and I knew I couldn’t do it alone.

  The following morning, the bedroom phone rang as Ben and I were packing.

  ‘Ms O’Connell, it’s Cara on reception. There’s a visitor for you. She says she’s your sister.’

  Aisling. ‘Grand. I’ll be down in five minutes.’

  Only it wasn’t Aisling in reception. It was Nia.

  I cringed at the sight of her left arm in a sling. ‘Nia! Hi.’

  ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’

  ‘I could take you up to my room, but Ben’s there. The bar’s empty.’ I indicated the entrance. Nia nodded and let me lead her to a table in the corner.

  I winced at her black eye too. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Sore. Not the first time. Won’t be the last.’

  ‘Nia! You’re not taking him back, are you?’

  She fiddled with a tassel on her scarf. ‘What choice do I have? I’ve no job and no skills or experience, so who’d take me on? I’ve no home. The house is Jim’s and I’ve no money of my own. I wouldn’t want to move back in with Ma, not that she’d let me. I’ve no friends. Jim pushed them all away. I’ve got nothing, Clare. Jim says that, if I drop the charges, he’ll keep a roof over my head and he promises not to hit me again.’

  ‘Do you believe him?’

  Nia didn’t answer.

  ‘Nia! Do you believe him?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I’m scared of him, Clare. Really scared.’ She looked up, her large, frightened eyes meeting mine. ‘Were you scared?’

  ‘I’ve never been so terrified in my whole life.’

  ‘Did he hurt you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘A lot?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Clare. I didn’t know. I knew he had a crush on you at sc
hool. He used to try to make out that you’d liked him too and he’d turned you down, but I knew you couldn’t stand him. He said things about you over the years. Cruel things. Looking back now, they make sense but, you have to believe me, I had absolutely no idea that my husband had… I’m sorry, Clare, I can’t even say the word. He’s such a bad man.’ She shook her head and lowered her eyes again. ‘I’m so ashamed.’

  ‘What are you ashamed for? He’s the one who raped me. He’s the one who should be ashamed. Unless… Jesus Christ! Did he rape you too, Nia?’

  She played with the tassel on her scarf again.

  ‘He did, didn’t he?’

  ‘It can’t be rape if you’re married.’

  ‘Oh, Nia. It can be. Did he force himself on you when you said no? Make you have sex when you didn’t want to? Force you to do other things?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then he raped you. Non-consensual sex, whether the man is a stranger, a neighbour, your boyfriend or your husband, is rape.’

  Silent tears dripped onto the table. ‘He hurts me,’ she whispered.

  ‘Then don’t let him do it again. Escape from him properly. Come to England. Live with me. I know we barely know each other, but we have plenty of time to do that. We played well together as children. I’m sure we can get along nicely now that we’re all grown up.’

  ‘I don’t have a passport.’

  ‘You don’t need a passport to go to England! Just a driving licence.’

  ‘I don’t have one of those either. Jim didn’t want me learning to drive.’

  ‘Then get a bloody driving licence! And a passport, while you’re at it.’

  Nia pulled a tissue out of her pocket, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I can’t. I have no money. I can’t sponge off you, and I won’t be able to find a job.’

  ‘Bollocks. Are no ID, no money and no work experience the only things stopping you?’

  ‘Aren’t they enough?’

  ‘We’ll apply for a passport and a driving licence, and I’ll give you a job. I’m out of work too and I might be moving to the coast. I’m thinking of going freelance. I could do with someone to do my admin and accounts.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’d be much use.’

  ‘Who does the shopping? You or him?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘Who plans meals?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘Who pays the bills?’

  ‘Me. With Jim’s money, but I sort it all out.’

  ‘Grand. That’s your admin and accounts basics sorted and I can show you the rest.’

  Nia looked as though she were going to throw in another objection. I hoped she wouldn’t. I was completely winging this, but I’d do anything to get her away from Jamie Doyle before he laid another finger on her or, even worse, killed her. I wouldn’t put it past him for taking out his anger on her at being questioned by the Guards.

  ‘I haven’t worked out the details yet,’ I said, ‘so you don’t need to make a decision just now, but I want you to think about it. Will you do that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And will you promise not to take him back?’

  ‘I don’t know. I—’

  ‘Nia! He’s a nutjob.’

  ‘Where would I go?’

  ‘I’m sure my mum – my real mum – would take you in.’

  Nia smiled. ‘That was unexpected, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Just a bit. But it was a hell of a relief for me, and it explained so much about Ma’s behaviour towards me when we were young.’

  ‘I wish Mrs Shaughnessy were my real ma too. She’s always been nice to me.’

  ‘And she will be again. I can ring her right now if you want.’

  Nia shook her head. ‘I need to think about it.’

  ‘You can think about my offer for as long as you like, but don’t take forever to decide about that rapist. If you let him come back to you, it could be the worst – or even the last – decision you ever make.’

  She stood up. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Give me your number before you do.’

  I typed her number into my iPhone and sent her a text to make sure I had it right. ‘Please call me any time, night or day.’

  ‘Thank you. And I really am sorry. That’s all I came here to say. I didn’t expect to tell you… you know.’

  ‘That you’d been raped? I know it’s a horrible, scary word because of what it means, but keep saying it to remind you of the horrible, scary thing that he keeps doing to you.’

  ‘I suppose I should be grateful that we never had children. Imagine what he might have done to them.’

  ‘Didn’t you want children?’ I asked, as we made our way out of the bar and into the lobby.

  ‘I’ve always wanted kids, but Jim couldn’t have them.’

  I stopped dead. ‘Why not?’

  ‘He had a really bad case of the mumps when he was 15. It made him infertile, so it did.’

  ‘You’re sure he was 15?’

  ‘Could have been 16. No, definitely 15. I remember him being off school for ages and him trying to make out that he failed his Junior Cert exams that year because of that. The eejit had loads of time to catch up, but he couldn’t be bothered.’

  I grabbed Nia in a huge bear hug and squealed. I didn’t care that everyone was looking at me.

  Shannon was Daran’s daughter. There was no doubt about it.

  Chapter 45

  ‘What was the name of the farm again?’ I asked Ben, early that afternoon as I drove down a narrow country lane with bushes on either side, hoping nothing would come the other way. I’d need to do a hell of a long reverse to the nearest passing point if it did. I hadn’t actually been to Wicklow before. Stunning. Lots of rolling hills, green fields and pretty villages.

  ‘Kylekerry Farm,’ Ben said.

  I looked at the colourful sign, swinging slightly in the gentle breeze, announcing it as a farm, B&B (currently with vacancies) and equestrian centre. ‘This is it, then.’

  I turned the car onto a gravel driveway and drove about half a mile up a steady climb, with nothing to see but meadows each side. The road then dipped and I smiled at the pretty stone cottage that revealed itself, what looked like a series of converted barns – which I suspected were the B&B business – and a collection of other outbuildings ahead of us. They were surrounded by fields containing sheep, cattle and horses. It was absolutely gorgeous.

  ‘Are you nervous?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Very. I’m wondering if I should have rung ahead rather than just turned up.’ Father Doherty didn’t have Daran’s mother’s number, but it was a working farm so I could easily have found it online. I hadn’t known how to broach the conversation: You don’t know me, but I’m the woman your son gave up his plans to go into the priesthood for, and I wanted to tell you that you’re a granny. Was it going to be any easier face to face, though? From what Daran had told me about his mother, she wasn’t likely to scream abuse at me and order me off her land, but I knew she’d been incredibly proud of him for considering entering the priesthood, so she might not react well to the woman who’d ruined his vocation for him.

  I drove carefully into the farmyard, avoiding a striped ginger cat and a few hens wandering around, pecking between the gravel.

  ‘Do you want me to wait here or come with you?’ Ben asked. ‘I won’t be offended if you’d prefer to do this alone.’

  ‘No. Come with me. Please.’

  A dog barked as we approached the large, wooden stable door. I rapped on the wrought-iron knocker, sending the dog into a frenzy. My stomach clenched as I pictured an enormous Alsatian or Doberman. I wasn’t great around dogs, and big dogs with loud barks were even worse. I was therefore a little surprised when the door opened and an excitable Poodle ran out and playfully bounced around my feet
.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ A slim woman in her early 60s with long silver hair in a side plait and twinkly grey eyes bent down to pick up the dog. ‘This is Frodo. He loves visitors, don’t you, boy?’

  She tickled his belly, then looked up and smiled. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘I’m looking for Mrs McInnery,’ I said. ‘Is that yourself?’

  ‘It is. Are you looking for a room?’

  I glanced at Ben and he nodded in encouragement.

  ‘No. I actually came to see you. I used to know your son, Daran.’

  Mrs McInnery stopped tickling the dog. ‘Oh my goodness! Clare? Is that you?’

  ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘Of course. What a beautiful young woman you’ve grown into. Come in! Come in! Kettle’s just boiled and I’ve got some scones cooling. Do you like scones? I always say you can’t beat them fresh out of the oven, so you can’t.’ She ushered us over the doorstep and my nerves steadied. Tea and scones were a good sign.

  She led us into an enormous kitchen-diner. A Belfast sink, pale-blue Aga and a large fridge-freezer broke up sturdy wooden units. A preparation island stood in the middle of the room, on which racks of scones and a chocolate cake were cooling. At the other end of the kitchen, a pair of two-seater sofas covered in bright-coloured blankets flanked an open fireplace, and between them and the kitchen was a large, solid dining table.

  ‘This is my friend, Ben,’ I said, as she directed us towards the table. Mrs McInnery released the Poodle, who ran towards a dog basket on the hearth, where he rolled around with a knotted rope between his teeth.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Ben,’ she said, shaking his hand.

  She turned to me. ‘God told me this day would come. Come here, child.’ She reached out her arms and hugged me. ‘I’m thrilled He brought you to me on a day I’ve baked. Sit at the table while I get you a bite to eat.’

  A few minutes later, she was back with a tray laden with scones, butter, jam and cream, plus a coffee for me and tea for herself and Ben. ‘Tuck in! There are fruit and cheese scones.’

 

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