The Corrigan legacy

by Anna Jacobs

  'I think so too, and I told her so, but she said I was biased.'

  'Anyway, it's hard to go against Dad.' He couldn't hold back a sigh.

  'You won't always be dependent on him.'

  He scowled. 'I'll have to work with him when I've finished studying, though, won't I?'

  'Well, let's go downstairs. The car will be here for us soon. And remember, this is Lacey's day, so whatever you think of this new woman, keep it to yourself.'

  'All right, Gran. Message understood.'

  Tiffany took a deep breath and went to answer the door. Des let out a long, low whistle of appreciation at her appearance and she gave him a nervous smile. 'I'm not sure this is the right thing to do. Are you certain you still want me to come with you today? I won't be upset if you've changed your mind.'

  He held her at arm's length. 'Of course I want you to come. You look absolutely wonderful, Tiff. Never seen you look so good.' He frowned then rolled his eyes at the ceiling. 'It's being pregnant, isn't it? Some women seem to get a glow on their faces. Judith didn't. She was sick all the time and she not only got fat, she stayed fat afterwards.'

  'I've told you before, size 16 isn't fat and it suits her to be voluptuous.'

  'You women always stick together. But it doesn't suit me to have a fat wife! I'm glad you haven't put on weight. No one would think you were ...' He patted his belly and winked.

  'I'm lucky. I never put on weight. And they would know I was pregnant if they saw me throwing up in the mornings.'

  'I think we ought to see a specialist about that.'

  'I've already seen my GP and she said morning sickness is perfectly normal at this stage. It passes after an hour or two, anyway.'

  'What does a GP know?'

  'Enough for me, especially since she's had three kids herself and truly understands what it's like.'

  'We'll see about that later.' Des glanced at his watch. 'Are you ready?'

  'Just got to get my hat.' She took a deep breath as she fitted it carefully on. She wasn't ready, really. She didn't know what Des meant by this invitation, never had felt sure of Kim, had always schooled herself to think of their relationship as something finite. Especially now. And let's face it, she was using him as much as he was using her, because with him paying her bills she was able to write full-time. She'd been quite open about that when they made their bargain and he didn't mind, said it kept her out of mischief.

  As she emerged from the bedroom, he tucked her arm in his. 'You're a real beauty, Tiff. I'm proud to be seen with you.'

  She shrugged. She sometimes wished she wasn't, so that people could see the real person behind the mask, the one who wrote stories about love and happiness, who wanted all the usual things in life: marriage, a husband, home and family. No, not any husband. Des Corrigan. It wasn't easy to love someone like him and she often wished her fancy had settled on someone else. Only it hadn't and that was that, so she would take what she could of him while he wanted her, then sort out a new life for herself . . . afterwards. She liked to think of herself as a survivor, after the sort of life she'd led. Taking a deep breath and schooling her face into the regal look that had once made her a successful photographic model, she took his arm and let him lead her out to the shiny white limousine.

  There were two people sitting in the back already and she stopped dead. 'You didn't say we were going with someone else.'

  'That's only my mother-in-law and son. They don't bite.'

  She hung back. 'Des, no! Your mother-in-law will hate me.'

  'Hilary isn't the sort to hate anyone.' He pulled her forward, waited as the chauffeur opened the door and helped her inside. 'This is Tiffany. Tiff- meet Hilary and Mitch.'

  The boy nodded stiffly. The older woman studied her face, seemed mildly surprised and said, 'Nice to meet you, dear. Do you prefer Tiffany or Tiff?'

  'Tiffany. But try telling Des that.'

  He laughed. 'You can be Tiffany to everyone else, but you'll always be Tiff to me.'

  She felt tears start in her eyes and turned to look out of the window, blinking furiously. Always! How long was that with Des? She caught Hilary watching her with sympathy and understanding written clearly on her face and thought that, in other circumstances, she might have got on well with his mother-in-law, who had a kind face.

  The son hadn't even looked at her since the introductions, let alone spoken, and was staring fixedly out of the window. He'd be good-looking when he grew into his body, but at the moment he was bony and had a spot on his chin.

  She felt relieved when they arrived at the church, but the feeling didn't last long. There was a murmur among the guests as Des escorted her along to the front. He didn't sit down with her, though, just bent to kiss her cheek.

  'I've got to pick up Lacey now and do the father stuff.'

  She'd forgotten that he'd have to escort the bride in and give her away. She definitely wouldn't have come today if she'd realized she'd be sitting alone.

  He touched her cheek gently. 'Tiff? You were miles away. I was just saying that Hilary will look after you till I get back. Only I wanted to settle you here myself first.'

  Did that mean he was making a public statement about her? Tiffany wondered. When he'd gone she cast an anxious glace at the older woman. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd be foisting me on you.'

  'That's all right.' Hilary hesitated then said, 'You're nervous, aren't you?'

  'Very.'

  'You're not at all what I expected.'

  'You thought I'd be a tart?'

  'Yes.'

  The words were out before Tiffany could stop herself. 'I'm with Des because I love him. I'm sorry about your daughter, really I am. I didn't want to hurt anyone . . . but I do love Des.'

  'He's luckier than he deserves.'

  Tiffany could see Mitch listening. He was still glaring at her. He had his father's green eyes but his hair was auburn not silver. It was just like Des to dump her with two people who had every right to hate her. She picked up the wedding programme and bent over it, pretending to study the order of service.

  Why on earth had she agreed to come today?

  The answer to that was easy. Because once, just once, she wanted to be seen openly with Des.

  Oh, she was a fool, an utter fool! Why not ask for the moon? It'd be far easier to get than what she wanted.

  Judith picked up the phone, recognizing Andy's voice immediately.

  'I've found out the information you wanted about your painting tutors . . .'

  When she put the phone down she stood there feeling numb, unable to move as she tried to take in what Andy had said.

  Was he telling the truth? Had Des really bribed her private art teachers to play down how good she was? Reluctantly, she came to the conclusion that she believed it. Des had been very insistent on finding the art tutors for her, which had surprised her. Now she understood why.

  She reached out to pick up the phone and tell him what she thought of such a nasty trick, then remembered it was Lacey's wedding today, so she went upstairs to the top floor, running her fingers lightly over her boxes of painting equipment. If only she'd known! She'd slowed down, stopped doing as much painting, tried to interest herself in other things. Hadn't succeeded.

  Suddenly tears rolled down her cheeks and she plumped down on the floor, clutching a bundle of clean paintbrushes to her breast and sobbing. She cried for a long time.

  What Des had done to her dreams and hopes was cruel.

  When she was cried out, she wiped her eyes and stood up. Working carefully she began to set out her materials, feeling hope swell inside her once again.

  Then she pulled out her unfinished canvases one by one, studying them carefully.

  'My life isn't over yet, Des Corrigan,' she muttered. 'One day I'm going to rub my success in your face.'

  The wedding reduced Tiffany to tears, as she'd feared it would. As she tried to flick the moisture away without Des seeing, he turned his head and grinned, miming a boo hoo. She fumbled in her tiny, b
eaded bag, hoping desperately that she'd put in enough tissues. Hilary passed her a handkerchief and she nodded her thanks.

  When it came time to leave the church, Des pulled Tiffany's arm firmly into his and led her outside. 'Do you always cry at weddings?'

  'Invariably.'

  'Women!' But his voice was gentle, his expression genial. 'Lacey looks beautiful, doesn't she?'

  'Very.'

  He nodded as if the compliment had been made to him. 'Takes after her old man.'

  The photography session seemed to take a long time, with Des involved in several of the main shots. He dragged Tiffany into a couple of the mass shots, though if looks could kill, the bride and her mother would have become murderers on the spot.

  'You shouldn't have brought me, let alone shoved me into the photos,' Tiffany whispered. 'It's not fair to your daughter.' She saw Mitch looking at her as if surprised by what she'd said.

  She was seated next to Des at the high table, another embarrassment. An older woman a couple of places away from her kept making loud and scornful remarks about people who traded on their good looks to push in where they weren't wanted. 'I suppose that's all some people have, their looks,' she finished.

  Des's face took on an angry flush.

  Tiffany had had enough. 'Oh, I'm not a model now,' she said loudly, as if in response to someone. 'I'm an author. In fact, I just heard today that my first novel has been accepted for publication.' She'd waited for a lull in the conversation and her voice carried clearly down the table. Everyone turned to stare at her, including Des, but she held up her head and stared right back.

  'Oh, well - er - congratulations,' someone said, and others echoed the words.

  'You didn't tell me!' Des complained in a low voice as the talking started up again.

  'I didn't think this was a day for blowing my own trumpet, only that woman over there has been making such nasty remarks that in the end I let fly.'

  He grinned. 'I've seen you do that once or twice before.'

  They exchanged smiles as they both remembered their first meeting, when she'd put a sleazy photographer firmly in his place.

  Des squeezed her hand. 'You're right to defend yourself. And congratulations. This is the book you were telling me about the other night, the romance?'

  'Yes.'

  'Do they pay much?'

  'I don't know yet. You get paid in dribs and drabs and it depends on how many copies are sold.'

  He was looking at her thoughtfully now. 'You're a dark horse, Tiff.'

  'I'm not. I've been perfectly open with you about my writing. No one else needed to know except for my friends on line, whom I haven't told about my acceptance yet.' Her expression grew sad. 'My mother will be scornful about it because it's a romance and my father won't care.'

  'Well, I'm proud of you. You always have been more than a beautiful face.'

  She looked at him in surprise.

  'I mean it. You've got guts and I admire that.'

  Someone else claimed Des's attention and then the speeches started. Tiffany sat quietly listening to what people were saying, feeling a warmth inside her at Des's unexpected compliment.

  She looked along the table and wished it were her in that white dress, wished she had the sort of family who cared what you did. Oh, she was being silly! It was her hormones, which were all out of kilter lately, or else why would she keep wishing for the moon?

  By the time they got back to her flat she was exhausted.

  'I'd like to stay over,' Des said, 'but I'm not in the mood for anything but sleep tonight.'

  'I'm not, either. Why don't you stay anyway? I don't just care about the sex, you know. I care about you.' Which was as far as she dared go in admitting that she loved him.

  To her surprise, when they got to bed, he held her close. 'You did well today, Tiff.'

  'Thanks. It was a bit difficult at times.'

  'Yes. That old aunt of Liz's always was a cow, never speaks well of anyone.'

  'Hilary's nice, though. She came over to talk to me once when I was alone and someone had whisked you away. I was really grateful for that because everyone else was avoiding me like the plague.'

  'Good for her. I've always liked Hilary, though I'm not sure she ever approved of me as a husband for Judith.'

  Tiffany made a non-committal noise.

  'About this baby of yours—'

  'Yours too, Des.'

  'Yes. It's thrown out my calculations.'

  'Has it? Well, it's thrown mine out too, but now that I'm getting used to the idea of it, I'm glad.' She wouldn't be alone again, whatever happened to Des.

  Silence, then, 'I'll have to work out what to do.'

  'It's me who'll be doing most from now on,' she said with a chuckle. 'Your main part's been played.'

  'Yes, well. I don't want to be a stranger to it this time.'

  She meant to ask him what he meant by 'this time', but she was so tired she stopped struggling and let herself slide into sleep.

  When she woke Des was still there, lying on his back, hands crossed behind his head.

  'I woke early and I've been thinking ... I reckon we might as well get married, Tiff.'

  She closed her eyes, then opened them again, swallowed hard and tried to think what to say. But even as she opened her mouth, the familiar wave of nausea swept over her and she had to rush to the bathroom.

  When she got back to creep shivering beneath the bedcovers, he wasn't there, but he returned shortly afterwards carrying a cup of weak tea and a dry biscuit.

  'Thanks, Des. I'd have killed for that.'

  "S'all right.' He got into bed and fidgeted with the covers. 'You didn't say anything.'

  'What about?'

  'I just proposed to you, woman!'

  'Oh, that. Well, as you're already married and as you didn't sound particularly enthusiastic, I didn't take you seriously.'

  He scowled at her.

  She snuggled down and closed her eyes. 'If you can't whip up more enthusiasm, I don't think we should even consider getting married. Anyway, we're all right as we are.' The expression of shock on his face pleased her greatly. But she meant what she'd said. She wasn't tying herself to him if he was half-hearted or expected her to be grateful for it.

  She wanted love and the whole damn thing!

  On Monday morning Lily went downstairs ready for school, only to find her mother and Wayne having an earnest discussion in the kitchen. They broke off when they heard her on the stairs, which made her wish she'd made more effort to eavesdrop. She would do in future. Her dad might view the world through rose-coloured spectacles but she knew you had to be very aware of what was happening to deal with her mother. 'Am I interrupting something?'

  They exchanged glances in a way that said they'd been discussing her.

  'I'm sorry if I am, but I need to get my breakfast now or I'll be late for school.'

  Wayne held up one hand to stop Kerry speaking and turned to Lily. 'You won't be going to that school again. Since we're leaving for the States on Sunday, you might as well enjoy a week's holiday.'

  She gaped at him then looked at her mother for confirmation.

  'It's for the best,' Kerry said, 'though I'd hoped to break it to you more gently.'

  'But I won't be able to say goodbye to my friends.'

  'You can email them from Texas,' Wayne said.

  He smiled confidently.

  Her mother bit her lip.

  Feeling sick inside, Lily tried another tack. 'What am I supposed to do all day? I don't even have my computer any more.'

  'You can pack your things and help your mother clear out the house.' Wayne looked at her. 'Unless you want us to pack for you? Oh, and in case you're thinking of trying to escape, either Kerry or I will be here at all times and you'll not be allowed to close your bedroom door in the daytime.'

  Lily looked at her mother and let the tears overflow. 'How can you do this to me?'

  'It's for your own good.' Kerry tried to put her arm round her daught
er, who shook her off.

  'I haven't figured out why you're doing it yet, Mum, but it's definitely not for my own good. There has to be some other reason.' She knew she was right when her mother went red. She'd have to find a way to escape. Maybe when they were both asleep.

  But a man arrived that afternoon to fit a security system on the ground floor.

  Wayne gave her another of his smug smiles. 'Just in case you try sleep-walking.'

  She didn't let her thoughts show. Anger had taken over from everything else now - and with it determination to escape.

  Whatever it took.

  On that thought she went up to her bedroom and hid most of her money behind her books.

  Sure enough, her mother came in a short time later and took her purse away.

  Sixteen

  A cool summer s day. Clouds form, threatening rain. The sun pushes them aside briefly, then they pile up again. Even the flowers seem less colourful in this light.

  Maeve decided to stay in bed. 'It's just for today,' she warned her two helpers. 'I'll be up and about again tomorrow.'

  Neither Andy nor Lena said anything until they were down in the kitchen, then they exchanged anguished glances.

  'It's a bad sign,' he said quietly.

  'Yes. I've never known her stay in bed before, not-even when she had the flu so badly.' Lena pulled out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

  He put his arm round her. 'We mustn't let her see how worried we are. She'd be furious.'

  'I know.' After leaning against him for a moment, Lena pulled herself away, blew her nose with a defiant trumpeting sound and turned to stare round the kitchen. 'It's about time I cleared out these cupboards.'

  He didn't say that her kitchen was always immaculate and he doubted there was a need. He wished he had some cupboards to clean out himself.

  Upstairs Maeve lay against the pillows, feeling too exhausted to lift a fingertip. Was she dying? she wondered. Was this the beginning of the final slide into oblivion?