Hot Property (Irish romantic comedy) (20 page)

He had whispered such sweet words to her. She knew he meant those words, had felt it as they made love, and seen it in his eyes, so tender in the soft lamplight. But he obviously felt his future would be better with Bunny than with her. Or he didn’t have the courage to break up with Bunny. Or—Megan racked her brain for an answer but couldn’t find it. Was Paudie such a coward he would rather live with a woman he didn’t love just for the sake of convenience? She found that nearly impossible to believe.

Work saved her from sinking into depression: making beds at The Blue Door; organising the bookings; shopping for Beata, who was looking after Boris and making him rest as much as possible; setting up her website and a Facebook page for her business; scanning photos Alex had taken and trying to decide which ones would be the best advertisement for her photo-shoot hosting; surfing the Internet to learn about make-up trends and fashion so she could provide an online fashion and make-up advice service. All this took up enough time to make her too tired to think and exhausted enough to sleep reasonably well.

There was no sign of Paudie or Bunny. Megan knew he would be busy on the farm; or perhaps he was selling off his stock so they could start growing their organic products? He had said Bunny wanted to plant fruit trees, the autumn was the ideal time. She kept away from the hills above the house and went shopping in Tralee rather than the local supermarket.

The local news was full of Garret Nolan and the trial. He was finally sentenced to two years in prison. Megan heard on the grapevine that Dan was giving up his firm and moving to Dublin. She felt a huge sense of relief that the chances of bumping into him were now very small.

Three weeks passed, then four. Megan got an excited e-mail from Alex one morning, inviting her to join him for the ready-to-wear fashion week in Paris ten days later. “It would be a great way to get a crash course in the latest trends,” he said. “Trevor and I are renting a little apartment on the Left Bank. You could stay with us if you want.”

Megan jumped at this chance. “If I want?” she replied. “Try to stop me.”

His reply arrived only minutes later. “So happy, darling. It will be huge fun. We’ll mingle with the fashion crowd and network like mad. I’d like to get you some sponsorship for your site, too, if you offer advertising. And you could get some great bookings this way. Try to get your website looking fabulous by then.”

Megan smiled, feeling something akin to happiness for the first time in weeks.
Yes,
she thought,
I need to get away for a bit. I haven’t been out of Kerry since I arrived four months ago. And what a strange time it has been…

Megan stretched and sighed, realising she had been sitting at her desk in the front room for hours. She got up and tidied her desk. She had been neglecting the housework lately. The whole house needed a good going-over. She took a brush and a few dusters and went around the house tidying up, dusting, getting rid of cobwebs.

The worst mess was in the living room, where piles of Sunday papers toppled onto the floor, the cushions on the couch were flat and rumpled and the fireplace full of ash and clinker. Megan realised she had been living in this mess for weeks without seeing it. She rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in.

It wasn’t until she pushed the couch away from the fireplace that she found it. A crumpled piece of paper underneath, covered in dust. She blew the dust off it, smoothed it out and peered at what was written there. Her heart nearly stopped. It was a note from Paudie. A note he must have written before leaving that night. Holding her breath, her heart pounding, she read the scribbled message.

The handwriting was difficult to decipher. Megan held it up to the light. It said something about
what happened
, then some scribbles she couldn’t make out, then:
a mistake. I will
… then a bit she couldn’t read …
Bunny so we can make a life together. I’m sorry if
… another scribbled line, then:
I love you and will always remember this night
.
Paudie.

Megan squinted at the note. Could it be true? Did he think what had happened between them was… a mistake? She tried to read it again. No, it was impossible. His handwriting, normally hard enough to read, was, in this hastily scribbled state, no more than hieroglyphics
. It can’t be
, she thought.
It must mean he loves me… Oh, why didn’t I find this note that morning? But why didn’t he answer my messages? Why hasn’t he been in touch?

The cleaning forgotten, Megan decided to go and find Paudie and finally get an answer. She got up and grabbed her jacket. After locking the back door, she went around the corner of the house and walked straight into him.

They looked at each other in shock.

“Paudie,” Megan said.

There was a flash of pain in his eyes. “Hello. I’ve come to get my sheep. They’re going up the mountains.” His voice had a cold edge she had never heard before.

“Yes, of course.” Megan looked at his strong hands and remembered their gentle touch on her bare skin. He was standing so close she could smell his own particular scent of soap and grass. She took a step back, noticing the chest hairs in the open neck of his shirt, his strong chin with faint stubble and finally looked into his bright blue eyes.

“If that’s all right with you,” he added in this new cold voice.

She felt tears well up and swallowed, trying desperately to appear cool and unperturbed. “That’s okay,” she heard herself say. “You go ahead.”

His eyes softer, he stepped closer. Put his finger under her chin and tilted her face. “Megan? What happened? Why didn’t you answer my note?”

Confused, she stared at him. “I didn’t find it until just now. But I did leave a message on your voicemail that morning. And then, when I got no reply, sent you a text.”

He stared at her blankly. “I got no such message. I checked my phone constantly. I needed to know how you felt after reading that note.”

Anger surged in Megan’s chest and stopped the tears. “Never mind the message. How the fuck, do you think I felt?” she spat. “You just left me there, after we… after… you know. Then I tried to phone you but only got your voicemail. I left a message, then a text. You didn’t reply, so I thought you—” She tried to pull herself together. “I only found that note today, you know. Just now. It had blown in under the sofa. But that’s beside the point. What was in the message was quite clear to me. You said it was a mistake. You said that you and Bunny—”

His eyes widened. “What are you talking about? That’s not at all what I said in my note. Don’t you know how to read?”

“I read very well, thank you,” she said stiffly. “But perhaps you could learn how to write? Of course I couldn’t make out all that was in the note. Your handwriting’s crap. But I got the most important bits.”

He moved closer again and grabbed her shoulders. Dark with anger, his eyes bored into hers. “What the fuck are you saying? I wrote that I left you sleeping and would be back later. That our… the… you know, what we did was truly beautiful. That my relationship with Bunny was a mistake. That I was going to break up with her so we could make a life together, you and I. And finally, that I love you. What part of that didn’t you get?”

Megan gasped. His fingers dug into her arms, his eyes full of pain and hurt. “I… she started. “What? I can’t ... Please let me go, and I’ll tell you.”

He let her go so fast she nearly fell. Megan stumbled but regained her balance. She tried to speak but couldn’t get the words out. “I…” she started. “ Oh God, Paudie.” She burst into tears. “The note blew off the table. The window was open and a sudden gust of wind blew everything around.” She gulped, fighting for breath. “I didn’t see it until just now, a moment ago. Those words were all I was able to read. The ones about ‘a mistake’ and Bunny and how you wanted to make a life together with her. I thought…” she ended feebly.

He frowned. “And those three words at the end? What did you think that was all about?”

Megan sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “Those words were a great help. I thought that maybe you do—did—love me but felt I wasn’t right for you and that Bunny would be a much better companion.” She stopped for breath and looked at Paudie for help, for reassurance or at least something to blow her nose in. “Have you a hanky?”

Paudie dug in his pocket and handed her a clean but crumpled handkerchief. “Here. Blow your nose.”

She took it. “It’s not ironed. Bunny on strike?”

“She’s gone. I broke up with her that night. She left the next day.”

“Oh.” She stared at him. “She left that morning? Were you there when she left?”

“No. I went out to check the cattle. When I came back, she was gone.”

Something occurred to Megan. “What time was that? I mean, what time did you go out?”

He looked confused. “Why? Around nine o’clock or something.”

“And then Bunny was on her own, packing?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “Why are you asking these questions?”

“Never mind. Just listen. I suppose you didn’t have your phone with you when you were checking the cattle?”

Paudie put his hand to his forehead. “Shit! No, I didn’t. What time did you call me?”

“Around half past nine.”

They stared at each other.

“I suppose you had a row?” Megan said.

“Yes. It was quite bitter. She was very upset. In fact, she nearly spat in my face when I mentioned you.”

Megan wiped her nose. “Of course. Well, there’s your answer. She must have deleted my messages.”

Paudie nodded. “Must have. The sneaky bitch.”

“Well, the woman scorned and all that. Must say I don’t blame her.” Megan stopped. “But that doesn’t excuse you not calling me again. Or trying to find out why I hadn’t called you.”

“Why didn’t
you
call me again?” he demanded. “Shit, Megan, did you really think I’d use you for a quick screw and then just run off. What do you take me for, huh?”

Megan’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I was scared. I thought…” She couldn’t go on, but stood there, willing him to understand, to realise that because of what she had been through in the not so distant past had made her distrustful of men. “I couldn’t believe you loved me.”

He didn’t seem to have heard. His eyes were devoid of expression as he digested all she had said.

“Paudie?” Megan whispered. “Say something. Please.”

He shook his head. “Don’t know what to say. I can see how the note might have been difficult to decipher. But…” He paused. “You didn’t trust me. You thought I’d give you up for Bunny because she was more suitable? Or that I didn’t have the guts to break up with her? Why the fuck didn’t you come and ask me?”

Megan shrugged and sniffled. “But I did. I left those messages on your phone. Then when there was no reply, I thought—” She stopped. “Actually, I was on my way to see you right now.” She looked at him accusingly. “But why didn’t you ask
me
what was going on? Why didn’t you try a little harder?”

“I don’t play games. I say what I say, and if that’s not good enough, too bad.”

“Too bloody proud, that’s your problem,” Megan snapped. “Well, in that case, I could return the favour and say you didn’t trust me either.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He stopped. “Which means we shouldn’t go any further. If we don’t trust each other, we won’t get on. Ever.”

“Probably.” The urge to throw her arms around him and beg for forgiveness was nearly unbearable. She took a step back. “I’m going for a walk on the beach.”

“I’ll load up the sheep, then.”

“Good.”

“Right.”

Silence. Megan sniffled. “Is that it?”

 
“Yeah,” he growled. He turned his back to her and walked back to the jeep and trailer.

Megan wanted to run after him. She wanted to touch his arm to ask, plead, beg, but the stiffness in his gait and his rigid shoulders told her there was no point. She blew her nose in Paudie’s hankie and half ran up the path to the dunes and the beach.

She walked for over an hour, the sea roaring in her ears, the wind whipping her hair into thick, hard strands. The wild weather felt like a punishment she knew she deserved but it didn’t cure her desperate need to be with Paudie.
He must feel the same. I’ll give him a little time, and then he’ll soften. Maybe he’s waiting for me,
she thought and ran back to the house. But when she got there, he was gone.

~ ~ ~

Hours passed. Days. Nights.

Time goes so slowly when you’re in pain
, Megan thought, trying to busy herself as best she could. The trip to Paris was a great help, and she threw herself into setting up her website, making it as professional and marketable as she could. Her wardrobe needed a good going over, and she sorted out all her clothes, picking the best items for a week in Paris. She had wisely kept the best designer outfits from her past life as a stylist and now found at least three outfits she could combine into a clean, classy look. She had her hair cut and even splurged on a day at a spa in Killarney for a top-to-toe overhaul. Suitably buffed, coiffed and dressed, she set off for Shannon airport early one morning to leave for Paris.

The departure hall was busy, and there was already a long queue for the Paris flight. Megan joined the back of the queue and put down her suitcase. She was checking her handbag for her passport and ticket, when someone touched her arm.