Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3)

by Jessica Redland

  Daran laughed and gave me a quick hug. ‘You always did babble when you were nervous. I’m sorry if I’m the one making you nervous. I couldn’t help myself.’

  ‘You aren’t making me nervous, as such. My feelings are. I don’t know what to think or feel anymore.’ I indicated that we should set off walking again.

  ‘Is it because of him?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The one who you said brought you here today. Ben, is it?’

  ‘Christ, no! He’s just a friend. Well, I say “just a friend”, but he’s so much more than that. Not in a friends-with-benefits way or anything like that. He’s just been incredibly supportive for… well, for pretty much the whole time I’ve known him.’

  ‘Someone else, then?’

  ‘There isn’t anyone. Actually, there hasn’t been anyone since you, Daran.’

  ‘Anyone you’ve loved, you mean?’

  ‘Anyone, full stop. A few kisses when I’ve let my guard down, but that’s been it.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘Because the only two people I ever cared deeply about were taken away from me. Being sent away from you was heartbreaking, but I had our baby to focus on so I still had a little part of you, assuming she was yours. When I was told that she’d died, I’d never felt pain like it. I couldn’t put myself through that again. So I didn’t.’

  We walked side by side in silence for a while.

  ‘When do you have to go back?’ Daran asked.

  ‘Tomorrow, assuming I can get a flight from Dublin. It’s pointless going all the way back to Cork.’

  ‘Any chance you can stay a bit longer?’

  I shook my head. ‘I’ve been away for nearly a week already. I want to get back to Shannon and Luke. I need to explore where we’re going to live and think about getting some work.’

  Darren stopped and took my hand. ‘You couldn’t make it Tuesday, could you? I know it’s a big ask, but I’d really like to see you again and I think tonight would be too soon for you. I think you need a bit of space to get your head around things, don’t you?’

  I considered for a moment. One more day? ‘Okay. Tuesday it is, but I absolutely can’t stay beyond that.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘Christ! We’ve been gone ages. Your kids will be thinking you’ve been kidnapped.’

  ‘I heard rumours of chocolate cake, so they probably haven’t noticed I’m gone.’

  We turned and walked back towards the farmhouse. ‘I like your dress, by the way,’ Daran said. ‘It reminds me of our meadow.’

  ‘It reminded me of that too.’

  We walked on a bit further. The farmhouse came into view. Laurel was pegging out washing on a lawn next to one of the hay barns. I could see three small children racing around, ducking between the sheets, presumably chasing Frodo, by the sounds of the excitable barks. How different their childhood would be from mine. They only had one parent, but he clearly adored them and made up for their lack of a mother. They were surrounded by aunties and uncles, and had a granny with a farm on which they could run riot.

  ‘I noticed that you’re still wearing my ring,’ Daran said.

  I held out my right hand in front of me but dropped it quickly when I realised it was shaking. I decided to pre-empt the question. ‘I’ve never taken it off. Other than to swap hands, of course. If Great-Aunt Nuala had thought it was an engagement ring, she’d have confiscated it.’ It had been the genuine reason at first, but I could have swapped it back at any point. Why hadn’t I?

  ‘Thank you for keeping it.’

  ‘It was until the end of forever for me too, you know.’

  ‘Was… or still is?’ Daran paused by the gate.

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t answer that at the moment.’

  He smiled. ‘Sorry. Far too pushy. I promised to give you time. Freja was right, though, my heart always was – and still is – yours.’

  He pulled on the metal bar to open the gate and we stepped into the farmyard.

  ‘Daddy!’ Two dark-haired little girls rushed towards him.

  ‘My princesses!’ he cried, gathering them in his arms. ‘Where’s your brother?’

  ‘Pretending he’s a dog.’ The taller one pointed to where a small boy was rolling around on the grass with Frodo.

  ‘This is Clare, Erin and Ethan,’ Daran said. ‘Girls, this is an old friend of Daddy’s. She’s also called Clare. Say hello.’

  Both girls looked up at me, squinting.

  ‘Your dress is very pretty,’ Clare said.

  ‘I like your hair,’ Erin added. ‘It’s yellow like the sun.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered, as they ran off to join Ethan and Frodo.

  I turned to Daran. ‘You named your firstborn after me?’

  He bit his lip. ‘Freja wasn’t too impressed when she found out. We were planning to call her Katelyn and I changed my mind at the last minute when I registered the birth. Freja went mad. She threw a vase at me.’ Daran pointed to a faint scar close to his hairline.

  ‘I think that if I’d been her, I’d have thrown 10 vases at you.’

  ‘It wasn’t one of my finest moments. It was probably the beginning of the end for us.’

  Ethan launched himself at Daran’s legs at that moment, and Daran picked him up and swung him in the air, ending the conversation. Poor Freja. I’d started off feeling bitterness towards a woman who could abandon her husband and three young children by leaving a note. Now I just felt sorry for her. The poor woman had been living under my shadow for the whole of her marriage. No wonder she’d fled.

  Chapter 47

  The next day, I awoke a little after nine to the sounds of birds chirping, cows mooing and sunlight streaming through my window. I rolled onto my back and stretched. It had been the early hours before I’d managed to fall asleep, although I’d slept soundly once I’d finally managed to stop my mind from whirring.

  I showered and dressed before crossing the farmyard to the main house. The top of the kitchen half-door was open, and the delectable smell of bacon and eggs wafted out to me as I approached. My stomach rumbled.

  ‘Good morning!’ Laurel said, as I unlatched the bottom half of the door. ‘The boys have just been in for their mid-morning snack and I’m about to put some more bacon on. Sit yourself down.’

  ‘Can I help?’

  ‘No, no!’ She shooed me towards the table. ‘You’re a guest.’

  I’d no sooner sat down than my phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen. Aisling. ‘It’s my sister. Do you mind if I take this?’

  ‘Help yourself. Reception’s not great in here. You’re better in the yard. I’ll wait till you’re back before I put the bacon on.’

  I accepted the call as I headed into the yard. ‘Aisling! I meant to call you yesterday, but things got a little crazy. I’m so sorry for interfering between you and Finn. I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought I was helping, but I should have engaged brain before mouth, as usual.’

  ‘It’s grand. I’m glad you interfered.’

  I sat down on a wooden bench. ‘Really? Has something happened?’

  ‘Let’s just say that it’s taken two kids, a divorce, a few booty calls, as you put it, and a long-distance friendship to make my husband finally fall in love with me.’

  ‘No! Oh my God, Aisling, that’s amazing! What happened?’

  ‘When she left him, he was devastated, but after a while he realised that he was more upset about her stringing him along and getting him to move to Manchester away from the kids than he was about losing her. He said he missed my company more than hers and, when the kids visited, he found himself looking forward to seeing me as much as them. Every time something happened at work that made him happy or sad, he wanted to tell me about it. He found himself watching TV programmes or films and wanting to hear my opinions on them.

  ‘Th
e first time we slept together again, he lay awake watching me for a while, and he said it was like he was really seeing me for the first time. He’d thought that love and friendship were two separate things and that our relationship hadn’t worked because we’d started out as friends, but it struck him that he actually loved me because of our friendship.’

  ‘So why didn’t he say anything?’

  ‘He was worried that I didn’t feel the same way. He knew he’d hurt me and he’d expected me to shout and scream at him, demand more maintenance, make it awkward to see the kids, and generally act the part of the scorned woman that so many exes play. When I didn’t, he assumed it was because I didn’t really care. What you said in the pub and my reaction to it made him dare to hope.’

  ‘Aw, Aisling. I’m so thrilled for you both. What happens next?’

  ‘He had to be back for work this morning, but it’s the Easter holidays starting next week. The kids were going over anyway so we’re extending our trip and I’m staying the whole time and, well, a move to the UK wouldn’t be off the cards. We’re not going to rush into anything, though.’

  ‘I bet you’ll be living there by the summer.’

  Aisling laughed. ‘I bet you’re right. I’m so happy and it’s all thanks to you. If you were still in Ireland right now, I’d come and give you a huge hug.’

  ‘Actually, I am.’

  ‘You are what?’

  ‘Still in Ireland, only you won’t believe where.’

  ‘The Giant’s Causeway.’

  ‘Why would I be at the Giant’s Causeway?’

  ‘I don’t know. It was the first thing that came into my head.’ A bell sounded in the background. ‘Damn. Break’s over. Can I call you back at lunch?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Where are you, though? If you don’t tell me, I’ll spend the next two classes thinking about it.’

  I giggled. ‘If I tell you, you’ll definitely spend the next two classes thinking about it. Are you sure you want to know?’

  ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Daran’s mum’s farmhouse in Wicklow. And Daran’s still alive. I saw him yesterday.’

  ‘Feck off!’

  ‘I know! Enjoy your class. Speak to you later.’ I hung up giggling. The unfortunate kids she was teaching next were probably about to have the most shambolic science lesson ever.

  I’d run out of clothes. I frantically rummaged through my suitcase. Seriously. I had nothing suitable to wear. It was either jeans and my Life Begins After Coffee T-Shirt or the dress I’d worn to Da’s funeral. Everything else was dirty.

  ‘I’ve got a problem,’ I said to Laurel, over a spot of lunch. ‘I’ve got no clothes for tonight. Is there a town I can get to around here?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nowhere close with any decent clothes shops. I’m sure our Aoife will lend you something. She’s about the same size as you. Bit shorter, perhaps. She’ll be over to clean the rooms shortly. I’ll give her a ring and ask her to bring you some options.’

  As soon as she arrived, Aoife gave me a huge hug. ‘So you’re the one who stole my big brother’s heart. I can see why. Come on, let’s get you fixed up. I’ve got just the thing.’ She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a bright-yellow van. She opened the passenger-side door and rummaged through a pile of clothes. ‘You’re welcome to look at the others, but I think this one’s you.’ She thrust a navy dress on a hanger at me. ‘Do you have shoes? Ma didn’t say to bring any.’

  ‘I have shoes,’ I said, holding the dress out in front of me. It had a ruched bodice and a short, flared, lacy overskirt. Not too casual and not too dressy. My nude heels would be perfect with it. ‘I love it. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She closed the door and leaned against it. ‘He’s still besotted with you, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘If anything, absence has made the heart grow fonder for him. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be the same for you.’ She moved around me, opened the back of the van and lifted a vacuum cleaner out. ‘The kids are staying with me so you won’t be disturbed. Enjoy tonight. You’ll look stunning in that.’

  ‘Thank you for lending it to me.’

  She walked towards one of the barn conversions, then stopped and turned around. ‘I love my brother, Clare, but I know what he can be like. Don’t let him talk you into anything that you don’t want. Sometimes the past is called the past because it’s already passed.’ With a sigh, she turned and headed into one of the rooms, leaving me in the middle of the farmyard with a dress draped over my arm, wondering if I should have stuck to my original plan and caught a flight back to England instead of staying another night.

  Chapter 48

  ‘Was it strange, seeing him again after so much time?’ Ben asked, as we tucked into an Indian takeaway the following night. It felt so good to be home and back to normality.

  ‘Actually, it was. Sunday was grand. We had 17 years to catch up on, so lots to talk about.’

  ‘And last night?’

  I pushed a chunk of chicken around my plate with a piece of naan bread while I found the right words. It had started so well. We’d continued to reminisce about our time in Ballykielty. Daran had reassured me that not going into the priesthood had definitely been right for him. He’d still been able to do God’s work, and continued to do so in his local community.

  I told him about Da’s claims that he’d been unfaithful to me. Although I was convinced that Da had just been a vindictive liar, it was reassuring to look Daran in the eye and hear him declare emphatically that I had been – and still was – the only one for him. Actually, I liked the ‘had been’ part, but the ‘still was’ concerned me.

  After eating, we’d moved to the sofa. He held me and kissed me, and it was lovely, but something was missing. He whispered again that he still loved me, and I so wanted to be able to say that I felt the same, but I really wasn’t sure, which made no sense, because I’d dreamed of a moment like this for so long. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on what it had been like when we’d been together in the farmhouse, hoping to recapture the passion and longing I’d felt for him back then, but my mind kept picturing Jamie Doyle instead. Looming over me. Laughing. Hurting me.

  As Daran’s hand slid up my bare leg and caressed my thigh, I froze. I was back in the farmhouse, pinned down by a man whose intentions were very clear. No! I had to stop thinking like that. This was Daran. He loved me. ‘Pinned’ was the wrong word. He was gentle. It wasn’t forced. I could move. I could escape. I could say no. And I did. The moment his fingers touched my panties, I screamed. I actually screamed.

  Daran had leapt off me immediately, absolutely distraught. He couldn’t apologise enough for taking things too far, too soon.

  ‘It’s not that,’ I whispered, sitting forward on the sofa with my head in my hands. ‘I know it happened 17 years ago, but my memory has only just come back and it’s like I was raped a few days ago. I’m sorry, Daran. I can’t do this.’

  He held me as I sobbed, then drove me back to the farm, apologising all the way. But it wasn’t his fault. It was Jamie Doyle’s for what he’d done. It was Da’s for separating us. And it was mine for falling out of love with Daran and not being able to find the words to tell him.

  ‘Clare?’ Ben asked, bringing me back to the present.

  ‘Sorry. Lost in my thoughts. It was lovely. He was lovely.’ I put my unfinished meal on the coffee table. ‘Can we watch a film?’

  ‘Anything in particular?’

  ‘Something that doesn’t require much concentration.’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ll clear these away first. Another beer?’

  ‘Another five, please.’

  ‘It’s like that, is it?’

  ‘Be grateful it’s not another 10!’

  Ben stood up. ‘I’ll get you the number of that counsellor tomorrow.’

>   ‘Yes, please.’

  I’d actually necked six bottles of beer by the time the film ended and was halfway down my seventh. I felt more relaxed than I’d felt in a long time, grateful for the slight fuzziness in my head to numb the bad stuff.

  ‘Great, big, steaming pile of elephant shite,’ I said, as the credits rolled.

  ‘Really? I didn’t think it was that bad. On a scale of shite, I’d say gazelle droppings.’

  I laughed. ‘A scale of shite? I think we might just have to create one of those for our future critiques.’

  ‘Why did you hate it?’ Ben asked, taking a glug on his lager. Despite his protests that he had to work the next day, he’d managed to match me drink for drink and he was slurring his words. I was too.

  ‘Plot was okay. Couple of holes. Nothing major. What was shite was the chemistry between the leads, ’cos there was shag all! Weren’t they meant to be dating in real life when the film was made? No wonder they split up.’

  ‘Didn’t think they were that bad. Pretty steamy sex scenes.’

  I nodded. ‘Yep. But the rest of it had zero chemistry, especially the kissing. It was like watching my parents kiss. Actually, don’t think I ever saw them kiss, but that’s what I imagine it would be like. Complete lack of passion. Surely any half-decent actor can convince an audience that they’re in love. I reckon that even I, with no acting training at all, could fake a passionate kiss and have anyone believe I was madly in love with the man I was kissing, even if I hated him.’

  ‘I bet you couldn’t.’

  ‘You bet I couldn’t? Are you challenging me to win the king back?’

  ‘No! Just a turn of phrase, but if you want to see it as a dare, Irish, that’s up to you. Not sure who you’re planning to kiss, though.’

  It absolutely was a dare. Well, if he was stupid enough to dare me when he was the only man around… I leaned forward on the sofa and planted my lips on his, and held them there for a few moments, fully expecting him to laugh and pull away when it got too much. But he didn’t. Ah! I knew what he was up to. The eejit was challenging me to be the first to pull away, then he’d say I’d lost the challenge and he’d get to keep the king – faked chemistry or no faked chemistry. Bollocks to him. No way was he going to win that easily. I opened my mouth slightly and gently kissed him. He responded. Mr Daring! I parted my lips a little more and cheekily slipped out my tongue, then gasped as he did the same. Most unexpected and most pleasurable. His kiss became more urgent and his hands found their way into my hair. I let out a soft moan as something stirred in me that hadn’t stirred for so long. It certainly hadn’t stirred with Daran over the last couple of days. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What was he doing to me? Playing me at my own game, of course. He was showing that he could fake passion and chemistry too. Right. He’d asked for it.