She glanced up at him. “I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “None of this is your fault and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m trying my best to put on a brave face for mom. You’re the only one who gets to see me this upset.”
“I understand,” he smiled and kissed her cheek.
“You’ve been amazing,” she said. “I don’t know how I’d cope without you.”
“I care about you.”
“Thanks.” She was the one who kissed him. They moved into the shadows and Saoirse slipped her hands under Milo’s white t-shirt and hugged him close. She loved him, she knew she did. She’d never felt anything like this for anyone else. He was kind and caring, just wonderful. She lost herself for a moment in his arms, before abruptly pulling away.
“I have to go,” she said reluctantly. “I can’t be late.”
“I know, try not to worry, everything will be fine in the end.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she said, searching his face earnestly.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, his voice was hoarse with longing for her. “My parents are away next weekend.”
“Call me,” she stared into his eyes.
“You know I will,” he smiled and kissed her quickly on the lips before she turned and walked up the drive to Ballycotton House.
Saoirse nervously put her key in the door and unlocked it. She knew that she was a little later than she’d promised her mother and that she’d probably be annoyed with her, but she was beyond caring. “Hi mom, I’m home!”
The house was silent and there was no sign of her mother. A stab of fear ran through Saoirse and her heart began to race as she looked frantically around the dark, empty living room. She ran upstairs and burst through the door of her mother’s bedroom. Kerry was lying on the bed, dozing and her eyes fluttered open when she heard her daughter enter. “Hello, darling, I must have nodded off,” she smiled blearily.
“Are you ok?” Saoirse asked. Her mother never went to bed until the early hours of the morning. She looked absolutely dreadful. She was very pale and her whole body seemed to have shrunken in on itself. Saoirse felt a pang. Her mother had always seemed so capable and in control but ever since the tsunami she seemed to have gotten small and weak.
“I’m fine, love, just a bit tired, that’s all.”
“You’re not sick or anything?” Saoirse asked, unable to keep the note of fear out of her voice. Kerry heard the childish fear in her daughter’s voice and opened her arms to her for a hug.
“Come here, you,” she said. “I’m grand, just worn out from all the drama.”
“You can’t get sick, mom,” Saoirse said, hugging her mother tight.
“I’m as fit as a fiddle,” her mother joked. She sat up in bed and Saoirse could see that the colour was returning to her cheeks. “Don’t worry about me, darling.”
Saoirse studied her face uncertainly.
“Honestly, I’m fine,” Kerry insisted. “I don’t know about you but I’m absolutely ravenous. Do you fancy sharing a pizza with me?”
“Sure,” Saoirse smiled. She loved pizza.
“You stick the pizza in the oven and I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”
“What are we going to do about that woman, mom?” Saoirse asked, as she sat munching on her pepperoni and cheese pizza.
“There’s not much we can do, love,” Kerry shrugged, not sure how to answer her daughter’s question.
“How could he, Mom? How could he do that to us?”
“I don’t know, love, it’s something we have to sort out. Try not to upset yourself, there’s no point getting into a state about it.”
“I think it’s very wrong.”
“I know, I agree with you.”
“She’s his mistress, his heavily pregnant mistress.”
“Please, Saoirse, can we enjoy our pizza?” Kerry sighed. “I know it’s difficult, but we can’t keep going on and on about her.”
“We can’t ignore it either, mom. We can’t keep pretending that he hasn’t lied to us, that he isn’t a complete bastard. I hate him!” Saoirse slammed the remains of her pizza on to her plate and stormed out of the kitchen.
Kerry sat in shock and pressed her fingers to her forehead, which was beginning to ache and pound. She hoped it wasn’t the start of another debilitating migraine. Ever since Hope’s arrival at her home she hadn’t been able to rid her mind of images of Conor and Hope together. When he made love to her was he thinking of Hope? The very thought made her skin crawl. Did he go from Hope’s bed to hers? The police were involved now too and the thought of her personal, most intimate relationship being part of an investigation made her feel physically sick.
Isabel had been polite and sympathetic but Kerry felt humiliated at having to show her a marriage certificate and photographs of her wedding, like she had to somehow prove herself. Part of her couldn’t help wondering about the other woman too. Would Hope have a marriage certificate and if so how was it even possible?
Kerry wished she could stop thinking and obsessing about the whole sorry situation. She wanted to concentrate on finding Conor, not on his mistress or wife or whatever the hell she was. She kept telling herself that she was the legal wife, but that wasn’t much comfort when Hope had clearly identified him as her husband too. Kerry wondered if she would have the audacity to show up at her home again. She hoped not. She didn’t know if she had the strength to deal with another confrontation like last time. The woman is crazy enough to show up whenever she feels like it, Kerry thought. She pressed her fingers to her temples, willing her headache away. If she truly believes she’s married to Conor, then I can’t really blame her for her reaction. How can Hope still believe she’s legally married to my husband? Kerry pondered. Surely, Isabel would have told her that I’m Conor’s legal wife? Hope would have to accept, sooner or later, and preferably sooner, that she didn’t have a leg to stand on.
The ache in Kerry’s head began to build as the anger she felt towards Conor grew. How could he have done such a thing? How could he have betrayed me like this? She’d been so embarrassed when Isabel had questioned her about her marriage, asking her about the likelihood of Conor having another wife. Never, in all their years together, had she even considered for one moment that he could have been unfaithful to her, let alone had a whole other life with another wife! Even during their rough patches, when their relationship had admittedly been quite strained, she’d always believed and trusted faithfully that Conor loved her and only her. Not for a single moment had she imagined that the times he was away, supposedly on business, he was actually with his other wife!
Why did he have to marry her? She couldn’t get her head around it. How could she ever forgive him? His secrets and lies and utter deception scared her. Did she know him at all? What else was he capable of? A one- night stand might be forgivable, in time, but his relationship with Hope seemed to be very serious. It couldn’t really get any more serious; after all, she was pregnant with his child. How the hell could he love two women? Kerry was beginning to think that he never loved either of them. It was probably just a sick ego boost for him.
Chapter 13
Isabel Murray sat at her desk and sipped her strong black coffee. It wasn’t even ten o’ clock and already she was on her fourth Americano. She needed something to wake her up as she hadn’t been getting much sleep over the past weeks. The Darcy-Gilligan potential bigamy case constantly played on her mind. The words of her legal professor from college came back to her; “find the motive and you’ll find the solution.” Money was usually the motivation in most crimes, but she couldn’t see how money was the motivating factor here. What was the motive in this case? She wrote the word “motive” in big, block capital letters and drew rings around it.
She was even more confused than ever after interviewing Kerry and Hope. Conor’s relationship with Hope seemed to have started while he and Kerry were going through a bad patch in their marriage. Even more puzzling was how different the
two women were. They were complete opposites in looks and personality. It was fascinating. From her own experience and the psychology modules she’d studied, most people were usually attracted to the same “type.” Maybe Conor had wanted someone very different to the domestic family life that he’d built with Kerry.
What possessed him to actually set up home with another woman? How on earth had he managed to keep both lives separate for so long? Most men would have simply had an affair. It would have been a lot less complicated. How did he get away with not being there at Christmas or holidays? He must be a very skilled manipulator, Isabel surmised. Both women seemed to believe and trust him implicitly. He worked everything out perfectly and his job gave him the ideal excuse to be away, even over the holidays. Somehow, she would have expected Kerry or Hope to be suspicious of his absences, but then again, why would they? Lots of people worked over the holidays, herself included.
I’ll have to investigate Conor and Niall’s background more closely, she thought. Although she doubted very much they were two different men, it remained a slim possibility, which she had to follow up. Twice the work, she sighed. She hoped and prayed there wasn’t another wife waiting to be discovered somewhere. Kerry’s and Hope’s backgrounds would need to be checked too. Maybe Kerry and Conor were actually divorced and Kerry was claiming otherwise. The one thing that she’d learned since joining the police force was to expect the unexpected. She’d come across many people who seemed genuine on the surface but when she’d dug a little there was often a very different story to be told.
“I think you should see a solicitor and get some legal advice,” Darren Kennedy advised his daughter.
“I know, Dad, you’re right,” Hope sighed. “But I can’t stand the idea of telling someone else the whole sorry story. It sounds so unbelievable and to be honest with you it’s excruciatingly embarrassing.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, love,” her father replied quickly. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not how everyone else sees it. I’m sure even that police woman thinks I’m his mistress and that I’m trying to glorify myself as his wife.”
“Your father and I are on your side, no matter what happens; you know that darling, don’t you?” Chantale tried to comfort her daughter.
“I know, mama. I don’t know what I would have done without you and Dad,” Hope ran her fingers through her hair. “I feel like an entire chapter in my life is being rewritten and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It’s bad enough that my husband is missing but on top of that I’m left wondering if I ever really knew him.”
Hope was bitterly angry at her husband. Everything she’d believed about their relationship was unravelling in front of her and every day she wondered what she would discover next about him. She’d done a lot of crying after her interview with Isabel and hadn’t gotten out of bed for days. Somehow she felt safe underneath the duvet, as if the world couldn’t get at her there. Chantale had tried to encourage her to stay with her for a while but Hope refused. She wanted to stay in her own place, with her own possessions and try to digest the reality of her situation. It was horrible enough that her whole life seemed to be disintegrating around her and she desperately wanted to cling onto something familiar.
“Will you help me?” Hope asked. She had a determined glint in her eyes.
“Of course, darling, anything,” her mother replied without hesitation.
“I want to go through Niall’s belongings and see if I can find any clues about his other life.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” her father asked.
“I need to do something, Dad, and that’s the only constructive thing I can think of doing.” Deep down, she wanted to believe that it was some terrible misunderstanding, but that was becoming less and less likely.
She started her search in Niall’s tiny home office, looking for anything that would give her a reason as to why he’d done what he’d done. There was nothing particularly revealing in the paperwork that he’d shoved in his desk drawers and nothing incriminating on his laptop either.
What’s going to happen about his job? They won’t hold his position open indefinitely. It struck Hope that she’d never met any of his work colleagues. Niall had always brushed off work parties as being boring and predictable and something he had to endure, not something he wanted to inflict on her.
“Easy tiger,” Hope felt a soft kick in her stomach which caught her unawares. Niall doesn’t deserve a baby. He wasn’t a fit person to be a father and it didn’t matter how loving he was towards her, the fact was that he was a lying, deceiving man who had fooled and manipulated her.
She sat at his desk and typed the word “bigamy” into Google’s search engine. There was nothing very interesting to be found there. Most bigamists had married for money, not simply for the hell of it like her husband seemed to have done. What sane person would? She searched the internet to see if there were any more survivor stories from the tsunami but there was nothing new. Always, for few seconds while the stories were loading, she held her breath, hoping that Niall’s face would appear and he would be found. But he wasn’t there.
Tears began to run down her cheeks. She felt so tired and alone. It was all so unfair. She couldn’t think of being without Niall for the rest of her life. He had to come back and when he did she knew she’d forgive him, even if he really was married to Kerry too. She put her head in her hands and let the tears flow, not sure if she was crying with worry or self-pity or sheer frustration.
“What did you find?” Chantale stood in the doorway of the bedroom as if frozen to the spot.
Hope wiped her face on her sleeve and searched her pockets for a tissue. “I haven’t found anything,” she sniffed loudly.
“Oh love, everything’s going to be ok,” her mother hugged her.
“No, it’s not mama. Nothing will ever be the same again. He lied to me every single day about every single thing. Nothing about us was true. He even lied to about his name! He has a wife and daughters and an entire other life that I didn’t have a clue about. I must be the stupidest person on the planet!”
“You’re not stupid, Hope. You’re a loving and caring person and you rightly trusted the man who was supposed to be your husband. There’s nothing wrong with that. How could anyone in their right mind even begin to consider that their husband had another wife? It’s completely ludicrous!”
“I would have understood if he’d had an affair. Of course I would have been hurt, but the fact that he covered up a wife and children from me and made me believe that when we’d have a family it would be the most wonderful time for him. I’m starting to think he lied about everything; his unhappy childhood, everything.” She blew her nose loudly on the tissue that her mother handed her. “I feel like such a fool.”
“He’s the fool,” her mother said sharply. “Did he not think that his secrets and lies would be discovered eventually? He must have thought he was so clever.”
“I always knew he was a smarmy bastard!” Hope’s dad joined their conversation. “I never liked him.”
“Oh, Dad, you never liked any of my boyfriends,” Hope managed a weak smile, in spite of herself. “My relationship with Niall was the best relationship I ever had with any man. He was kind and loving towards me and we got on very well. It was so easy and we seemed to click right from the start.”
“He was too good to be true,” her dad interjected tactlessly.
“Ok, dad, there’s no need to rub it in. You were right and I was wrong. I probably made the biggest mistake of my life ever marrying him. Are you happy now?”
“I’m sorry, love,” Darren looked stricken. “I never wanted you to get hurt.”
Chantale shot him a glare that made him stop speaking instantly.
“What am I going to tell my friends? I was forever going on about how amazing he was, Rosanna and Grainne loved him. Although, Rosanna did say once that as he long as he made me happy that was the most i
mportant thing. I wonder if she suspected?”
“Of course she didn’t!” Chantale explained. “Unless she’s a clairvoyant how could she have possibly known if you didn’t realise and you’re his wife?”
“She mentioned to me a few times that he was quite a bit older than me and she wanted to know if we had much in common,” Hope continued her musings.
“Maybe she just didn’t like him either,” her dad piped up again.
“I can’t stand the idea of everyone finding out and feeling sorry for me,” Hope chose to ignore her father. There’s nothing I hate more than people talking about me and staring at me with pity. I’m such an idiot. I should have known he was too good to be true. I’ve never had any luck with men so why did I think that Niall was any different. I’m a fool and he must have found it easy to manipulate me.”
“None of this is your fault,” Chantale said. “How could you have known?”
“I should have guessed,” Hope replied shortly. “That police woman made me feel like such a moron. She asked me if Niall was around at Christmas or special occasions and I could tell she thought I was a gullible fool to have believed his lies and excuses for not being around.”
“Why should you have doubted him?” Chantale tried to reason with her daughter. “You loved and trusted him.”
“I shouldn’t have believed him without thinking. Most people bring their wives to conferences and work parties, but he never brought me. He probably brought Kerry instead of me.”
She rubbed her head. “God, I could really use a glass of wine right now.”
“Come on, I’ll make you a nice cup of chamomile tea instead,” her mother closed the computer and led the way into the kitchen.
“I wish I knew what to do,” Hope sighed. “It doesn’t seem that I am legally married to Niall. Kerry married him first so I suppose that makes my marriage null and void. What happens when we find him and he’s ill, I won’t have any part in his life. It will be up to Kerry to make all the decisions.”
Aftermath Page 14