The Stone House

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by Marita Conlon-McKenna

‘You’re mad!’

  ‘I’m mad but . . .’

  ‘You’re mad but I love you and I’m going to marry you!’ she screamed, flinging herself at him, kissing him like crazy, knowing for sure and certain that Derry was the only man for her.

  Chapter Forty-one

  THE STONE HOUSE began to empty as Moya and Patrick and the children packed up and returned to London, with promises to return during the coming school holidays.

  ‘It’s so good to know the house will still be here for us,’ confessed Moya, taking a last look around the tiled hall and wide stairway, ‘though it won’t be the same without Mammy.’

  Kate and Derry had driven back to Dublin a few hours earlier. Romy had never seen her sister Kate so happy, making plans to marry Derry as soon as possible. Molly was all excited about being a flower girl at her parents’ wedding.

  Nervously Romy had asked her sisters if it was all right if she stayed on in Rossmore, to be told they were delighted to have someone in the house minding it for them all.

  ‘I just couldn’t imagine the place cold and empty,’ shuddered Kate, hugging her. So now there was Uncle Eamonn, herself and the cat left.

  She had phoned New York and told Diana that she wasn’t coming back and contacted her landlord about the lease on her apartment. Greg had been calm and accepting when she told him of her plans to stay in Ireland. Romy hoped somehow they could remain friends. The stores she worked for were a little upset when she told them that she had no plans to return to New York for the foreseeable future but promised them that once her equipment was shipped over she would try to supply a minimum number of items each month and work on individual commissions.

  Back in Rossmore, she was ready to admit that she couldn’t imagine herself living anywhere else. She had taken the keys to her father’s office in Main Street and asked Kate and Moya and their partners for their advice. Derry had assured her that with a little investment and employing a good shop-fitter she could easily convert the upstairs office into a studio, and refit the downstairs to create a bright display and sales area.

  ‘Just imagine it, Romy – with your own designs and metal art pieces on show,’ enthused Moya, ‘it could look wonderful!’

  ‘And you get to keep all the money, no percentage to stores or split commissions,’ laughed Kate.

  ‘Though there will be overheads,’ Patrick warned her. ‘But I think it would be a very sound investment in a town like this.’

  Patrick was right: trade in the town was good and a new bookshop and an expensive boutique were scheduled to open only a few doors away.

  She had masses to do and to sort out, and appointments were made with the local bank manager, a building contractor and an architect. Romy reckoned that keeping busy made it a little easier to get over the loss of her mother. She was doing a bit of a clear-out of the house with Aunt Vonnie’s help and had the garden to tend to before the place went wild with neglect.

  That afternoon she planned to make a start by cutting the grass and tackling some of the weeding and was kneeling on the lawn when she spotted the familiar black Land Rover pull into the driveway.

  Her instinct was to drop what she was doing and take to her heels and run, except that Brian had spotted her and was coming across the lawn.

  ‘Romy.’

  Shading her eyes, she blinked in the sunlight. He looked great in a pair of chinos and a pale blue shirt, while she was in a crappy pair of cut-off denim jeans and an old Mickey Mouse T-shirt.

  She watched as he walked towards her, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, wondering what he wanted from her.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you before you go back to America,’ he said, taking off the sunglasses.

  ‘I’m not going back. I’m going to stay here.’

  She could see the relief in his eyes.

  ‘Good, I don’t think I could stand to have you go away.’

  She stared at the blades of grass. This was utterly pathetic. She was a grown woman, not a stupid teenager, and she should at least be able to talk to the guy who was her best friend for years and the one time love of her life.

  ‘Romy, there’s so much I want to say to you. I’ve made such a fuck-up of things between us. Years ago, I know I let you down.’

  She looked up. He was being serious.

  ‘I should never have gone away. My mother thought we were too young to be in love, too crazy about each other, that’s why she sent me over to Uncle Kevin.’

  ‘I screwed up too,’ she admitted.

  ‘Then I messed things up even more by getting involved with Gina. That broke up and then Marie and I got together. We should never have got married and I guess after a few years we both realized we’d made a huge mistake.’

  Romy considered. She had to tell him about what she had done and was frightened to tell the truth because he’d probably hate her, be disgusted by her.

  ‘Brian, listen to me for a minute please,’ she insisted, barely daring to speak. ‘That time you went to Frankfurt for work, the reason I tried so hard to contact you was to tell you that I was going to have a baby.’

  ‘Oh Christ,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  Standing on the lawn looking out over the sea, voice shaking, she told him, seeing the pain in his eyes, waiting for his contempt and anger, and for him to storm off and leave her. For him to jump into his car and forget her.

  ‘Oh God, Romy, I’m sorry about what you had to go through,’ he said softly. ‘We were just kids then but I was the one who let you down!’

  She looked up at him, lost in the blue of his eyes.

  He bent down and touched her, his lips warm against hers. She opened her mouth and responded fiercely, kissing him back. Nothing had changed.

  ‘It’s like I thought,’ he said slowly, looking at her.

  Her heart sank.

  ‘Perfect! There’s always been that perfect chemistry between us.’

  Romy sighed. She guessed that’s why no guy she’d ever met had measured up to him.

  ‘We’re not kids any more,’ he said, touching her hair, moving it back from her face. ‘This time I want to take it slowly, OK?’

  She looked dazed and confused.

  ‘We’re grown up now, Romy, and I want a grown-up relationship with you.’

  Standing in front of the Stone House, watching the shimmering blue of the sea as, with the tide out, the waves rippled onto the beach below, Romy could feel the smile begin way down at her toes as he pulled her into his arms and held her. Romy promised there would be no more secrets between them, no more running away, for wrapped in Brian’s arms, here in the place that she loved, she was finally home.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Marita Conlon-McKenna is one of Ireland’s favourite authors and a regular number one bestseller. She is the winner of the prestigious International Reading Association award and is a regular contributor to Radio and TV. She lives in Blackrock, Dublin with her husband and family.

  For more information on Marita Conlon-McKenna and her books, see her website at www.maritaconlonmckenna.com

  Also by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  THE MAGDALEN

  PROMISED LAND

  MIRACLE WOMAN

  THE STONE HOUSE

  THE HAT SHOP ON THE CORNER

  THE MATCHMAKER

  MOTHER OF THE BRIDE

  A TASTE FOR LOVE

  THREE WOMEN

  THE ROSE GARDEN

  TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS

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  www.transworldbooks.co.uk

  THE STONE HOUSE

  A BANTAM PRESS BOOK: 9780553813685

  Version 1.0 Epub ISBN: 9781446437285

  First publication in Great Britain

  Bantam Press edition published 2004

  Bantam edition published 2005

  Copyright © Marita Conlon-McKenna 2004

  Maria Grech Ganado’s poem
‘Relative Time’ is taken from the Ribcage collection and is reproduced with permission from Minima Publishers.

  Marita Conlon-McKenna has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book

  is available from the British Library.

  Addresses for Random House Group Ltd companies outside the UK can be found at:

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  The Random House Group Ltd Reg. No. 954009

 

 

 


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