The Shadow of Langley Hall

by Dilys Xavier

  A stable lad walked a horse out into the yard as she climbed out of the vehicle. When she had a donned her headgear he legged her up into the saddle and stroked the animal’s neck as Liam mounted his own steed. He led the way into the field and dug his heels into the animal’s flanks. Matching his horse stride for stride Catherine urged her mare forward. They thundered across the undulating countryside, splashing through standing water, and jumping numerous stone walls. When they reined to a stop in the yard over an hour later she was flushed with excitement.

  She was still smiling broadly when she returned to the farm and she slipped out of her riding boots in the porch. Louise quickly made a cup of tea and handed it to her as she sank into a comfortable chair in the huge farmhouse kitchen.

  ‘So what do you think of Liam, then?’

  ‘I’ll say one thing, he’s a good horseman,’ she said, with a touch of admiration in her voice. ‘I’m sure he would have been a champion jockey given the chance.’

  ‘Oh, my word, now let me tell you, he’s a lovely man, too,’ Louise said, in a soft cooing voice. ‘And a fine catch for any woman.’

  ‘Well, I’m not trying to catch anyone,’ Catherine said, a trifle peeved at the inference. ‘I’m quite happy to be single.’ But as she sipped her tea she admitted to herself that it was not entirely true to say that she was opposed to the idea of marriage. Although she hadn’t loved Peter in a romantic way, she had been prepared to marry him, and had reasoned that they eventually would have sealed the union sexually.

  True to his word, Liam saddled up two different horses next morning. He patted the roan’s shoulder as she adjusted the stirrup length and climbed into the saddle and then he looked into her face.

  ‘Now, let’s see how you handle Brigaddo. He’ll test you to the limit, but I’m pretty confident that you can handle him.’

  Once again, Catherine surprised Liam. He pushed his horse hard, but he couldn’t out run Catherine on her gelding and when they finally trotted back into yard, both horses were flecked with sweat and lathering at the mouth. Catherine slipped out of the saddle and eased off the cinch before Liam reached her side.

  ‘I’ll help rub them down after they’ve been washed.’

  ‘No, no, the stable lad can do that,’ he protested, obviously pleased at her offer, ‘but do come inside for something to drink now.’ They went into the house and Liam’s housekeeper soon had a coffee and cake on a tray for them.

  ‘So you’ll come to Kildare with me to seen the filly run?’ Catherine agreed, and he smiled. ‘Good, we’ll fly up early on Saturday morning.’

  Louise was delighted when Catherine told her she had accepted Liam’s offer to watch his filly race, as they shared a cup of tea later that morning. Louise reiterated the man’s good points again, boasted of his prosperous business interests as well as his stable of successful racehorses. When Catherine questioned her about his personal life, she replied, ‘Oh, he doesn’t play around if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s a good Catholic boy.’

  The flight to Kildare on Saturday was marred by heavy rain to start with, but after about twenty minutes they broke through into brilliant sunshine. The four-seater plane touched down in the midfield of the racecourse and taxied to a stop beside a number of other aircraft. As she stepped out onto the grass she became instantly aware of the unique atmosphere that permeates a racecourse: The sweaty, nervous horses, the milling throng of people, and the bookies all shouting the odds; it all made her pulse quicken with excitement.

  Liam led the way through the throng of people milling around the stable to where his filly, Silver Wings, was being shod for the race. The stable lad gave a thumbs-up sign as the farrier lowered the horse’s hind leg to the ground and packed up his tools. A smile tugged at Catherine’s mouth as they exchanged looks, for evidently the man thought it was a sure thing.

  Also evidently convinced he was on a winner, the diminutive jockey gave Liam the nod as he was legged up into the saddle. As the field made their way to the starting point Liam led Catherine to a vantage point on the rails from where she trained her binoculars on the horses as they milled around waiting to line up for the start.

  Silver Wings was slow out of the box, but she made up some ground by the time the field passed the first furlong post. The jockey kept her wide of the main runners, and began to pick them off one by one. As they neared the fifth furlong post, the filly was only half a length behind the two front runners, and appeared to be making little progress, but suddenly, she made that extra surge as the horses in front shortened stride and began to fade. With only yards to go, she drew level and the three of them thundered across the line together.

  ‘Did she get to them in time?’ Catherine looked up at the judges’ booth and then at Liam as they waited for the result of the photo finish. ‘Do you think she won?’

  It seemed like an age before the loudspeaker crackled into life.

  ‘ ... and the winner is Silver Wings by a short half head.’

  ‘We’ve won!’ Liam spun around grabbed Catherine’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s get down to the winners’ enclosure.’

  They waited impatiently for the jockey to ride the horse around the ring before having his weight checked. Catherine stood by Liam as he proudly accepted the prize, and now all that was left to do was to collect her winnings. She returned from the tote with a broad smile on her face.

  ‘12 to 1,’ she cried, waving the money in the air. ‘Come on, let’s go to the bar for a drink to celebrate.’

  The rest of the race meeting was an anti-climax, but Liam watched all the other races with the same intense interest, noting the good and bad features of each runner. It was important to know as much as possible about the horses he had to compete against in future races. As they made their way back to the plane after the last race, Catherine expressed her disappointment that the day had ended so quickly.

  ‘It’s a pity we have to go home so soon. I’ve had had such an enjoyable time I want it to last a little longer.’ Then she laughed self-consciously. ‘I suppose that makes me sound like a spoilt child?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Liam responded gallantly. ‘Those are my sentiments too.’ When they reached the waiting aircraft he helped her inside and added. ‘We can drive over to Killarney this evening. There’s a little restaurant there with a reputation for really first class food.’

  ‘Yes, but only if you’ll let me pick up the bill.’

  ‘Okay,’ he agreed, reluctantly. ‘If you insist, but only this time; next time you’ll be my guest.’

  It was late when they finally left the restaurant and tumbled into the Bentley. Catherine was pleasantly inebriated, not enough to be drunk, but enough to let herself relax. She gazed at Liam’s profile as he negotiated the narrow Irish lanes, and once again she had to admit he was not only an attractive man, but good company as well. He caught her glance and smiled.

  ‘To be sure, it’s been a good day.’ His softly spoken words were almost a caress. ‘A beautiful woman as my companion, a win at the Curragh, and then a fine dinner.’ He lifted his hand as if to pat her knee, but drew back at the last moment. ‘We must do it again before you go back to England.’

  Catherine made no comment, but did not dismiss the idea.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ she said, as he brought the big sedan to a slithering stop outside Seamus’ house. ‘I think we should thank our lucky stars that the roads were empty and the Garda weren’t around to see your speed. We’ve both had a bit too much to drink.’

  ‘Ah, yes, but that’s the luck of the Irish.’

  Then without giving it a second thought, she impulsively leant over and kissed his cheek.

  ‘Thank you, Liam, for a wonderful day. I really did enjoy it.’ Then before he had time to respond, she slipped out of the car and waited until the taillights disappeared around a bend in the road before she made her way into the house.

  They rode out nearly every day during the following week, and dined out most evenings. Liam lau
ghed good-naturedly when she suggested that he had rearranged things to make sure he could spend as much time with her as possible, but he did not deny it. They spent many hours touring the county and stopping off at quaint little pubs to chat to publicans who all knew him by his first name. When she gently chided him for showing her off, he shrugged and with typical Irish blarney, quoted some obscure poet to excuse his actions.

  ‘We’ll go to O’Flathery’s tonight,’ he said, as he helped her into the car that evening. ‘He’s a bit of a lad, but I have a deep affection for him. Our friendship goes back a long way, a very long way.’

  The Shamrock and Harp was a typical Irish country pub. It was a mystical, magical place, complete with dark corners and miscellaneous odds and ends from the past. The group of fiddlers scraping away furiously in the smoky depths of the bar room were largely ignored by the customers who were too intent on drinking and trying to make themselves heard above the music. Around the wall were photos depicting various scenes from the film Ryan’s Daughter and some of the actors, many of which she identified.

  ‘Seán was an extra in the film.’ Liam explained. ‘He was one of the crowd outside school house amongst others.’

  He led her across the room and introduced his friend. The man looked her up and down appreciatively and then shook her hand politely. As he placed their drinks on the bar he said something to Liam in a monotone and then laughed uproariously. When Catherine cocked an eye at him, he almost blushed.

  ‘An old friend’s joke,’ he apologised, then pointed to a plaque behind the bar in an effort to lighten the situation.

  ‘Seán has a lot in common with Omar Khayyam,’ Liam said, before reading the inscription aloud.

  ‘And as much as Wine has playe’d the Infidel,

  And robb’d me of my Robe of Honour - well,

  I often wonder what the Vintners buy

  One half so precious as the Goods they sell.’

  There was no way she could respond to that, so she glanced around the room in an effort to change the subject. Liam noted her discomfort, said goodbye to his friend, and then escorted her out of the pub. When he reached the car he paused.

  ‘I suppose you are wondering why I brought you here. Well, I’ll tell you. As I said earlier Seán and I grew up together. Thick as thieves we were. Both from the same kind of background and both had the same opportunities.’ He looked back at the pub. ‘I grasped mine, but Seán couldn’t, or didn’t want to see the larger picture.’

  ‘What are you saying, Liam?’

  ‘Well, I’ve made a success of my life. I have a thriving business, a good home, and a luxury apartment in Dublin.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sean’s got his pub, or the use of it; although I think the bank owns most of it by now. When I see him living out his life in that noisy, smoky little place it reminds me of how lucky I am.’ He paused to emphasis his words. ‘I could have easily ended up like him.’

  Then before she could stop him, he took her into his arms and gently kissed her lips.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Louise bid Catherine a tearful farewell before she climbed into the Mazda to begin the trip back to Rosslare. She glanced at the rear-view mirror as she turned the corner and saw her cousin still waving goodbye. Catherine cast her mind back over the past two weeks as she negotiated the country lanes. Liam Kelly had all but dominated her time, filling the days with sightseeing trips and the evenings with candlelit dinners. She had certainly enjoyed his company, and it had helped take her mind off the problems that awaited her back at the manor, but a few things had given her some concern.

  They had been having a drink one afternoon when a cluster of framed photographs caught her attention. His daughter Eilis was depicted in most of them. Photos of her sitting astride a pony, being dangled on her grandfather’s knee, or cuddling up with her grandmother. The largest picture showed her clutching the hand of a striking looking blonde in her early thirties with swept back hair and spectacles. Catherine had been unnerved by her own likeness to the woman, whom , she was told, was the girl’s deceased mother.

  Liam’s voice had faltered as he mentioned that the photograph had been taken only months before his wife died. But he brightened up again when she asked about Eilis. He explained her absence by saying that she was visiting her grandparents in Galway during the school holidays. Then he proceeded to enumerate her many good points; how bright she was for her age and how successful she had been at numerous horse shows. It was quite clear that he doted on the pretty, fair-haired girl.

  And now as she joined the queue to board the ferry she wondered whether Liam was interested in her for herself alone. Or did he see her as a potential replacement mother for his young orphaned daughter because she resembled his dead wife? The thought nagged her until she went up on deck and began talking to an elderly couple returning home from their vacation.

  Intermittent road works along the M4 made the return journey more tiresome than usual so she was more than pleased when she eventually reached the road where she would swing off the road into the manor. The colourful summer spectacle was fading now, but there were still plenty of flowers in bloom and more waiting to blossom. The gardener dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow and tipped his hat as she stepped out of the Mazda.

  ‘Welcome home, ma’am. Did you enjoy yourself in Ireland?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Dave, it was very relaxing.’

  She gazed around the grounds; everything looked well cared for and it was apparent that nothing much had changed since she had left. Except her situation. It was now time to face the future, however bleak it appeared.

  *

  Richard leant back in his chair and allowed his gaze to sweep around the opulent office suite again. If I keep stopping to admire it I won’t get any work done, he mused. But he was highly delighted with the new premises and how everything had come together with the minimum of fuss. He had engaged Tom Clancy to do the fitting out, and the man had surpassed himself.

  It had been, yes, Mr Carlisle, of course, Mr Carlisle, and that’s no problem, Mr Carlisle. Richard had wondered whether the builder was trying to make amends for the delay in completing the work at his house, but whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. The job was done, and everything was running smoothly. Nicole had slipped into her new role with the minimum of fuss, and she was training another woman to take over her previous responsibilities.

  He glanced at the red-ringed note on his desk; a reminder about Aunt Agnes’s party. I wonder if I’ll know anyone, he mused, then shook his head, it would be highly unlikely. He had invited Cecile, but she had declined.

  ‘They’re your family, Richard,’ she had replied. ‘I’d be out of place.’

  Then he thought about their planned trip away. He had been surprised that she would want to spend a weekend in a holiday cottage in a remote part of Wales. However, he agreed that it would give him a chance to get away from ever the increasing pressure of business. Things had begun to improve dramatically around the time he had decided to pursue his claim on the estate and then it had suddenly snowballed. There had been little opportunity to spend time with Cecile during the past few weeks and he was eager to make amends.

  Richard had deliberately put the acquisition of Langley Hall out of his mind. He was happy to wait until Catherine returned from Ireland because he did not want her to feel pressurised in any way. Anyway he had plenty to occupy his mind; the increasing demands of his business, and the party that his new-found aunt had arranged. Time enough to begin the negotiations when things quietened down.

  That evening he changed his mind at least half dozen times before finally settling for a pale lightweight suit and matching shirt to wear to the party. The blaze of light coming from Agnes Frobisher’s house hit him in the eye as he turned into the street. The front of the house was also festooned with balloons and a big sign which read; ‘Welcome to Richard Carlisle from all your kith and kin.’

  He barely had time to get into the house before she be
gan to introduce him to everyone, explaining how they were related and were they lived.

  ‘I’ll never remember all those names,’ he protested. ‘You should have given everyone an identification tag to wear.’

  She shushed him quiet and continued to present him to other members of her extended family. As he exchanged pleasantries with yet another distant cousin, he felt a tap on the shoulder. He spun around to find Helen ready to kiss his cheek.

  ‘I’ll bet you’re as surprised as I was to learn that we are related.’

  Richard gazed at the redheaded beauty that he had enjoyed so many amorous nights with, and chuckled.

  ‘Well, well, so I was dating my own cousin all the time.’ He turned to his aunt. ‘Helen and I have known each other for a couple of years and we’ve ... we’ve been ...’

  ‘Lovers?’ Agnes laughed. ‘Yes, I can well imagine that.’

  The evening drew to a close, and after the cake was cut and the speeches made, it was time for Richard to respond. Normally, he never had any difficulty in addressing a group of people, but this was different. He ‘ummed’ and ‘aahed’ and then cleared his throat noisily.

  ‘I’m overwhelmed by the warmth that I’ve experienced here this evening,’ he began, ‘but first of all I want to thank my newly found Aunt Agnes for the way she has welcomed me into her heart. It has been a deeply emotional experience for me. I would never have known who she was if I hadn’t walked down the street one Sunday morning and admired her flower garden.’ He swept a hand around the room. ‘And now I have all you people to share my happiness with too.’

  ‘And some of your good luck.’ Helen said, with a laugh.

  ‘You’ve done all right, so far,’ Richard quipped quietly, from behind his hand. With that, he promised to invite them all to another reunion once he was installed in Langley Hall. ‘It’ll be a celebration to end all celebrations.’

  He had related it all to Cecile as they sat over dinner the next evening. She was delighted that it had all gone so well, and chuckled when he told her about Helen.