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Hot Property

Page 12

by Susanne O’Leary


  Still glaring at Paudie, Dan reluctantly followed her through the door.

  “Bye, Paudie,” Megan called over her shoulder.

  “Don’t wait up,” Dan added, his voice dripping with irony. “We’ll probably be very late.”

  “What was that all about?” Megan asked when they drove off.

  Dan changed gears with unnecessary force, making the gearbox screech. “Nothing,” he said between his teeth. “Except some stuff that will never get buried.”

  ***

  Megan took off her shoes and slowly opened the back door. She peered inside and listened. All was quiet. Denis slept on his blanket by the stove, but lifted his head as she padded inside. He wagged his tail but didn’t get up.

  Megan put her hand on his head. “Shh, we don’t want to wake Paudie.”

  Denis yawned and closed his eyes. “Good boy,” Megan whispered, and tiptoed out of the kitchen. She made her way down the corridor toward the guest room, slipping out of her jacket as she went. Yawning, she pulled off her sweater and started to unbutton her shirt. Exhausted after a long evening of talking, singing, laughing and walking on the beach, she just wanted to get in between the sheets, put her head on the pillow and go to sleep. It had been a fun evening, which ended with a long kissing session in Dan’s car just outside the gates. It was as if he was willing Paudie to come out and find them there. But nothing happened and Megan finally pulled away.

  She put her fingers to her lips, where the warmth of his kisses still lingered. He may not be such a great lover but he’s a hell of a kisser, she thought sleepily. Her shirt open, she was just about to open the door to her room, when there was a noise further down the corridor. She turned her head and discovered Paudie, naked except for his pyjama pants, coming out of the bathroom.

  He stopped in his tracks. “Well, hello, there. What time do you call this?”

  Megan looked at her watch. “It’s one thirty in the morning.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “That’s a little late, isn’t it? Or early if you prefer.”

  “I suppose. But so what? We had fun. Then we went on talking in the car.”

  Paudie came closer. “Talking?” He peered at her. “Is that why you have a hickey on your neck?”

  Megan felt her face redden. “Don’t know what you mean.” She put her hand to her neck. “It’s a scratch from a branch. Must have happened when we were walking…”

  “Oh yes,” Paudie drawled. “Must have.”

  He was now so close Megan could feel his warm breath on her face and smell the soap he used. His naked chest nearly touched her breasts. She pulled at her shirt and inched away, her breathing oddly laboured and her face hotter still. “Well, I think it’s time for bed…”

  He didn’t move. “Yes,” he murmured. “Maybe it is.”

  Rooted to the spot, Megan found herself mesmerised by the look in his eyes and the sheer nearness of him. “Good night,” she whispered as she slowly came to her senses.

  He touched her face. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” He disappeared into his room and closed the door.

  Megan stood there for a while, trying to get her breathing back to normal and her legs to obey her. What happened? What was that all about? She shook her head. He was probably just tired and perhaps a little drunk. They’d be back to normal in the morning.

  Finally in bed, she was aware of Paudie’s presence in the next room, and in her thoughts.

  ***

  When the plumbers were finished, Megan moved back into her house. She missed Paudie’s company, but being away from his sharp eyes and his quick assessment of her moods was a relief. She also had a feeling there had been a slight shift in their relationship, which made her feel uncomfortable.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay another few days?” he asked when he saw her packing up.

  “No thanks. I have to be there when the glazier comes to do the windows, and then my house will be more weatherproof and more comfortable. I have to learn to live on my own there, Paudie.”

  He nodded. “Very true. I’ll miss your chatter though.”

  “I’ll miss you too. But I’m only down the road, so we’ll see each other often all the same.”

  She drove off, leaving him standing at the gate, looking a little forlorn.

  The B and B was full and Megan had to spend extra hours helping out and taking bookings on Beata’s computer. Boris had become lazy and uncooperative, which made Beata bad-tempered and impatient.

  “He’s never here in the evenings anymore,” she complained. “I don’t know where he goes, and I don’t care, but now I have to do all the boring chores myself. And then I’m so exhausted, I don’t even wake up when he crawls into bed.”

  “Have you asked him where he goes?” Megan said.

  Beata nodded. “Yes. He just says he’s doing something important for himself.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what he means. I don’t really understand the way Russians think.”

  “I’m sure he’ll explain it one day.” Megan turned back to the computer, where she was checking e-mails for new bookings.

  “Yeah. Maybe.” Beata resumed emptying the dishwasher then stopped and looked at Megan bleakly. “But what if he’s doing some kind of extra job to save money for a ticket back to Russia? What will I do then?”

  “Why do you say that? And why would you care? You act as if you hate him most of the time.”

  Beata shrugged. “I know and I do. But he’s so handy to have around, you know?”

  Megan smirked. “Yeah, right. You have no feelings for him at all?”

  “I don’t. None at all.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Please. Stop going on about it.” Beata clattered the dishes. “How are things with you? Danny boy still wonderful?”

  “Haven’t seen him much, to be honest. But I’ve been so busy here and with the house, I haven’t much time to go out.”

  “I saw him at the pub with an older man last night.”

  Megan looked up. “Oh? That must be his dad.”

  “Yes. They look alike. The dad is handicapped or something. Walked in using a cane. They seemed to get on really well.”

  Megan stared at Beata. “Handicapped? I didn’t know. Dan doesn’t talk about him much. In fact, he seems to avoid the subject when I mention it. But… but doesn’t his father run an estate agency?”

  Beata closed the washing machine. “So? Can’t he do that even if he can’t walk? Can’t be that much to do these days. Not many houses for sale. Must be hard to live on what he makes. Especially if he’s handicapped.”

  “Must be,” Megan mumbled and went back to the bookings on the screen. But she couldn’t focus on them for a long time.

  ***

  “Do you want to come to the races on Sunday?” Paudie asked when he dropped in with a sweater Megan had left behind.

  “The races?”

  “Yes, you know, where a bunch of horses run against each other and we place bets and cheer and drink beer and have a good time. The races.”

  Megan snatched the sweater from him. “I know what the bloody races are. I was just a little surprised that you’d go there.”

  Paudie leaned on the gate. “Why? I do go out for a bit of fun sometimes, you know. In any case, Diana has a horse in one of the races, so I thought we’d go and cheer her on. And this is the biggest event of the year here. Because of the Rose of Tralee festival. Very glamorous.”

  “The Rose of Tralee? Gosh, I had totally forgotten that was on.”

  Paudie shook his head mockingly. “You really are on another planet these days. Tralee is buzzing right now. Not that I’m interested in that sort of thing, but it’s kind of fun all the same.”

  “But it’s just a beauty pageant, isn’t it?”

  “In a way, yes. But I think it’s much more than that. All these Irish girls from all over the world coming back to their roots. They’re not just judged on their looks but on their personality and talent as well. Most of them are so wholesom
e and sweet. Yeah, okay, it’s kind of cheesy. But it’s so very Irish.”

  Megan laughed. “That’s for sure. So, you’ve been watching? Who’s your favourite to win?”

  “The girl from Texas. She has a certain sassiness combined with Irish-girl-next-door sweetness.” He winked. “Just like you.”

  Megan felt her face go pink. “Didn’t know the girl-next-door was your type.”

  “I don’t have a type. So, how about it? You want to go? Or do you have plans with Mr Nolan?”

  “No, not this Sunday. He’s in a surfing competition. So, yes, I’d love to. Sounds like fun. What’ll I wear?”

  Paudie laughed “The first question a woman ever asks, even if it’s her own funeral. How about my old corduroys with the binder twine? You looked cute in those.” He ruffled her hair. “I’ll pick you up at one. See you then, kiddo.”

  Chapter 12

  Tralee racecourse was packed. When Megan saw the crowds, the multi-coloured tents, the banners and flags, she realised what a special day it was. The newly crowned Rose of Tralee would be attending, and there would be a parade with all the contestants in vintage cars. The biggest race was Owen McCarthy Claims Specialists Handicap Steeplechase over two and a half miles, and everyone expected a great contest between the best thoroughbreds in the country.

  “What a perfect day for the races,” Megan said to Paudie as they went through the turnstile.

  Paudie squinted at the sun. “It’s a grand day. End of August is normally good, though. And so many of the farmers here have finished saving hay and all the crops. This year, they got two cuts of silage as well. So you’ll see a lot of money changing hands.” He glanced down at her. “You look nice.”

  Megan laughed. “Typical. I’ve made a huge effort to dress just right for the races and dug out my very expensive Prada dress, a remnant of my former life. I even went to the trouble of ironing it. And all you can say is ‘nice’.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He looked at her again. “Your dress—excuse me, Prada dress—with that exquisite pattern of blue flowers, the sexy short skirt, teamed with—” he looked at her feet, “blue sandals with sky-high heels and a matching—no, wait, not matching—enormous handbag is the epitome of the well-dressed Kerrywoman at the races.” He drew breath. “Better?”

  “It would be if you meant it.”

  “I do. With bells and whistles.”

  “Yeah, right,” Megan laughed.

  “But what the hell is a Prada dress?”

  “Prada is a very well-known designer.”

  “I see. You coulda fooled me. I thought it was some kind of weird material.” He looked at her hand. “I see you’re wearing the ring. But isn’t it the wrong way around?”

  “No, it isn’t. I don’t feel attached yet.”

  “Or in love?” he asked airily.

  She thought for a moment. Was she in love with Dan? He made her feel happy and she liked him a lot. She was very attracted to him but love might have been too big a word. “Well, let’s call it ‘in like’ for now,” she replied. “Very much so, actually.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Ah, forget it. I’m here to have fun. I’m going to have a little flutter as well.”

  Paudie laughed. “Easy with the moolah, girl. Horses are a dangerous drug.”

  Megan put her entrance ticket into her handbag. “Do you never bet?”

  “I might put a tenner or so on a good horse, but that’s about it. I’m going to put a little bit on Diana’s horse.”

  “Does she train horses as well?”

  “No. This isn’t a horse she owns, it’s one she bred and sold on. It’s owned by a syndicate, I think. But she’s always very attached to the horses she’s bred.”

  They made their way through the crowd. Paudie held Megan’s elbow in a tight grip as they walked towards the stands. He was greeted now and then by claps on his back and shouts of ‘Howerya, Paudie’, but they didn’t stop to talk. “We’d better make sure we get seats, or we’ll have to stand, and then you won’t see a thing,” he said.

  They passed bookies setting up their places. “Shouldn’t we place our bets now?” Megan asked.

  “Yes, we will. But I have my favourite. These guys don’t offer the best odds. My friend, Bobby, is my man."

  They stopped in front of a board that showed the horses running in the next race. A tiny man in a checked jacket and deerstalker hat was shouting into the crowd and making odd gestures. Paudie touched his shoulder. “Hello, Bobby, how are things?”

  He turned around. “Paudie, my friend! And with a lovely lady as usual. He grabbed Megan’s hand and kissed it. “An honour to meet you, my dear.”

  Megan giggled. “Hello. What a lovely day.”

  “All the lovelier now that I’ve met you, my fair lady.” He winked at Paudie. “This is a grand girl. Hold on to her.”

  Paudie laughed. “Enough of your blather, Bobby, or she’ll get a swelled head.” He pulled two twenty-euro bills out of the pocket of his shirt. “Forty on the nose of Bare Necessities.”

  Bobby clutched his heart “Forty? My God, Paudie, you’re going mad today. That’s a complete outsider.”

  “I know,” Paudie said. “But a friend of mine bred it. I’m only betting on it to bring it luck.”

  “You could do that for a little less, but okay, you’re the boss.” He took the money and handed Paudie a ticket. He beamed at Megan. “And what about you, me darlin’? A tenner on a sure winner?”

  Megan opened her bag and took out her wallet. “No. I’ll put two hundred on Bare Necessities.”

  There was a stunned silence. Bobby shook his head. “On such an outsider? Well, the odds are great, so if he wins, you’ll get four thousand. But the favourite’s so strong. Your choice is a risky business, sweetheart.”

  Paudie shuffled his feet. “Megs, are you sure? I mean, it’s a good horse but that amount of money…”

  Megan nodded and proffered the bills to Bobby. “Yes. I’m sure. I know you think I’m mad, but I have this feeling.”

  Bobby sighed and took the notes. “There’s no arguing with a woman when she has a ‘feeling’.”

  Megan took the ticket he handed her. “That’s right.”

  Paudie touched Bobby’s shoulder. “Don’t look, but there’s Garret Nolan coming your way,” he muttered.

  “Oh shit,” Bobby said. “Not him. I know I should be delighted, but when a gambling addict comes to you only to get his throat cut again, then my job becomes such a pain.”

  Paudie nodded. “Yes, but what can you do? If he doesn’t go to you, he’ll go somewhere else.”

  Megan stole a look at the older man walking towards them. Leaning slightly on a walking stick, he was tall and good-looking, with a shock of white hair and broad shoulders. Dressed in a tweed jacket and matching hat, there was a dapper, jaunty air about him, like someone enjoying a day out. But there was also something familiar about him. With a sudden shock of recognition, she realised who he was. “Dan’s dad,” she mumbled. “They’re so alike.”

  “That’s right.” Paudie pulled her away. “Not a man I want to speak to right now. Or ever.”

  “But,” Megan protested as they rushed through the crowd. “Why don’t you want to speak to him?”

  Paudie climbed the steps to the top of the stands. “Look, I see seats up there. Perfect. We’ll get a good view of the whole thing.”

  Megan was quite out of breath when they reached the seats. She had to wait for a moment until she could speak again. “Come on, Paudie, tell me,” she said, when they were sitting down. “What is it between you and the Nolans?”

  Paudie adjusted his linen blazer and pulled at his shirt collar. “Oh, that’s just some family stuff.”

  “Yes. So?”

  He turned to look at Megan. “That family has always behaved as if they were royalty. And if you must know, my mother was engaged to Garret in their youth. He jilted her at the altar. This turned out to be lucky f
or her because she then met my dad who was a much better man. She had a happier life as a result.”

  “And she had you.”

  Paudie nodded. “Yes. And my brother.”

  Megan stared at Paudie. “Your brother? You never told me you had a—”

  Paudie looked into the distance. “It’s a long story. But okay, I’ll tell you.” He turned to her. “My younger brother, Michael, and Dan were in the same class at school. When they were teenagers, they were always in trouble. Girls, drugs, booze, you name it. Mick was easily led, Dan a real leader, but very clever at not getting caught. Mick was always the one to get the blame, even though Dan was mostly the instigator. But hey, I don’t blame Dan for Mick following him like a lovesick puppy. He was warned but never took heed.”

  “But didn’t you try to stop him? Tell him Dan was no good?”

  Paudie shrugged. “I did. But then I gave up when I saw it was no use. I was young myself. Only two years older than them and didn’t really care that much. You know how you are at that age. Selfish. Mostly occupied with your own concerns.”

  Megan nodded. “Yes. I suppose. I didn’t really connect with my family when I was in my late teens. My friends and school and boys were all I thought about. Home was just a place to eat and sleep.”

  “Exactly. And when you have to work on the farm in your spare time, all you want to do is get away and have as much fun as you can manage. Of course, Dan Nolan didn’t have to do that. His dad was a solicitor with lots of money.”

  “Oh?” Megan said. “But I thought he was an estate agent?”

  “He is now. Because he gave up the family firm for Dan to run. Land and property was a kind of hobby he got into when he retired. He did very well during the boom. Not so well now, I gather. Maybe that’s why he likes to gamble.”

  “So what happened?” Megan asked. “I’ve a feeling something really bad is coming.”

  “You’re right.” There was a bitter twist to Paudie’s mouth. “All this fooling around eventually led to big trouble. It was the drugs. Mick got hooked big time. Was in and out of rehab several times. But Danny boy kept out of trouble.”

 

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