My Mother's Secret (32 page)

Read My Mother's Secret Online

Authors: Sheila O'Flanagan

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: My Mother's Secret
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‘Liam, you’re being daft!’

‘I know.’

‘I can walk.’

‘But that’s not as much fun.’

He was puffing slightly as he finally walked into the flat and lowered her gently to the floor.

‘Did you find your keys?’ he asked, his arms still around her.

‘Yes.’

‘The tablet worked.’

She hadn’t taken it. But she wasn’t sneezing any more.

He smiled at her and pulled her closer.

Her eyes met his. She stared at him for a moment.

Then he kissed her.

She felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle touch of his lips on hers. His scent was musk and he tasted faintly of coffee. He swung her into his arms again. She didn’t say anything at all as he carried her into the bedroom. But when he looked at her queryingly, she said yes.

She said yes the second time too.

Chapter 28

Colette had been right. It was less than a minute before Davey was standing beside her on the veranda. She was conscious of how close he was to her, close enough that she could hear him breathing. She wondered if he could hear her breath too, ragged and nervous.

‘Do you have any reasonable explanation for wearing Camilla’s engagement ring?’ His voice was icy.

She turned to face him. His expression matched his tone.

‘It’s a mistake,’ she said.

‘Too right it is,’ said Davey.

‘I didn’t mean to …’ She exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. ‘I saw the box when you were going into the house. It had fallen into one of the planters.’

‘So why didn’t you give it to me?’ he asked.

‘You were talking to Camilla. I was waiting until you were on your own. And then …’ She didn’t know how she could say it without appearing incredibly stupid. She
felt
incredibly stupid, of course, but she didn’t want him to realise how much of an idiot she was.

‘Then?’ His eyes were steely.

‘I know I shouldn’t have looked at it,’ she said. ‘But I did. I was in the bathroom, cleaning up and drying my hair, and I saw the box in my bag and I couldn’t help myself.’

‘I realise you have a certain ongoing interest in engagement rings.’ He didn’t try to hide the mocking tone of his voice. ‘But how did you move from looking at it in the box to wearing it in front of everyone?’

‘It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.’ She glanced down at her finger. The ring was still turned so that the stones were facing her palm. ‘I couldn’t help myself. I tried it on.’

‘It’s my
girlfriend’s
engagement ring,’ Davey hissed. ‘You’d no right to try it on. But even if you did …’ he stared at her, ‘even if you did, why are you still wearing it now? In front of me and in front of her? What sort of perverted thing is going on in your head to make you do something like that?’

‘I can’t get it off,’ explained Colette. ‘I tried and tried with soap and everything but it won’t budge.’

‘What!’

‘It’s true.’ Colette tugged at the ring. ‘It’s completely stuck, Davey. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘It can’t be stuck. Let me try.’

‘Ouch!’ she cried as he pulled at it. ‘I’m telling you, it won’t come off. I know it will eventually. Maybe with the help of butter or something. But I couldn’t raid the kitchen for slabs of butter without people wanting to know what I was doing.’

‘So you decided to show it off anyway?’

‘I didn’t decide anything. Alivia was banging on the bathroom door and wondering what I was doing in there for so long. I had to come downstairs.’

‘For crying out loud!’ Davey was getting more and more frustrated as he continued to try to get the ring of Colette’s finger. ‘If the damn thing went on, it should come off.’

‘I think it’s like getting your head stuck in railings,’ said Colette miserably. ‘Easier one way than the other.’

‘I’d quite happily shove your head through some railings now,’ muttered Davey.

‘If it meant the ring would come off, I’d let you,’ said Colette.

‘Right.’ Davey abandoned his attempts at removing the ring, although he was still holding Colette’s hand. ‘We need to do this in private, with Vaseline.’

‘Do what in private with Vaseline?’

Neither of them had heard Camilla walk on to the veranda, so they both jumped guiltily at the sound of her voice.

‘Not whatever you might be thinking,’ said Davey, as he moved rapidly away from Colette.

‘You’ve no idea what I’m thinking.’

‘Perhaps not, but—’

‘I’m thinking that you and your cousin have a very strange relationship,’ said Camilla. ‘You spent hours together driving around in the rain. And now you’re holding hands.’

‘We’re
so
not holding hands!’ cried Colette. ‘Honestly, Camilla.’

Camilla’s attention was caught by the sight of the ring on Colette’s finger. She looked from her to Davey, complete astonishment on her face.

‘Really and truly not what you think,’ repeated Davey. ‘But something we don’t want everyone to know about.’

‘From your perspective, I guess not.’ Camilla turned and walked away from them.

‘Shit,’ said Davey and hurried after her.

SingStar having had to be abandoned, Roisin was now busy sorting out the sleeping arrangements. Despite it being a logistical nightmare, the effort of trying to find places for people to bed down was helping to relax her, and when Jenny walked into the den where she’d been standing, she gave her mother a brief smile.

‘There are two other camp beds in the utility room.’ Jenny knew what her elder daughter was thinking about. ‘That’ll help.’

‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of them!’ Roisin tutted in annoyance. ‘I’d forgotten how many people stayed here in the past.’

‘At least then it was always part of the plan.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m sorry, Roisin,’ said Jenny. ‘For messing up what was a lovely day. And for allowing ourselves to be in a situation where it could get messed up.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Roisin.

‘It’s not,’ said her mother. ‘Maybe it will be, but right now it’s as far from OK as it’s possible to be.’

‘Because Steffie shot off like a scalded cat and left us all frozen with worry.’

‘Because I’ve made you unhappy,’ said Jenny. ‘Because I’ve let you down.’

Roisin was horrified to feel a lump in her throat. She said nothing. She didn’t want Jenny to know how she felt.

‘When I found out I was pregnant with you, I couldn’t believe it,’ Jenny told her. ‘Even though I was young and naive, I knew I loved you more than anything in the world. Before you were born and afterwards.’

Roisin couldn’t speak.

‘Not marrying your dad wasn’t some kind of disrespecting of you,’ Jenny continued. ‘I think you feel it might have been. There were loads of reasons we didn’t. None of them good enough in hindsight.’

‘What about after Steffie? Why didn’t you get married then? Was it because Dad was too angry with you? Or that he didn’t love you any more and you only stayed together for all our sakes?’

‘I didn’t want him to feel obliged to marry me,’ said Jenny. ‘I wanted to give him the option to leave if he felt he couldn’t put up with the situation. He wouldn’t have left because of you and Davey. You both meant the world to him. But I didn’t want him to feel trapped.’

‘So you just drifted along?’

‘More or less,’ said Jenny. ‘And then, when we realised it was working, we thought – why change? You know how it is, you read all these things about celebrities who’ve been together for twenty years and then a year after they get married they split up. We didn’t want to be those people.’

‘I wish you’d said something before now.’

‘So do I.’ Jenny’s words were heartfelt.

‘I don’t like to think that you cheated on Dad.’

‘It was the worst thing I ever did,’ confessed Jenny. ‘It was a terrible, terrible mistake and I never really paid the price for it. Maybe I’m paying it now.’

‘Not on my account,’ said Roisin. ‘I’m still angry with you, Mum, but I suppose I’ll get over it.’

Jenny smiled. ‘Thank you.’ She held out her arms and Roisin allowed herself to be hugged. It wasn’t something she and Jenny had much time for these days. Mainly because Roisin was always too busy to give her mum more than a cursory peck on the cheek when she was saying goodbye to her. But it was nice to feel the warmth of Jenny’s embrace and to know that, no matter what, they loved each other.

Then her thoughts returned to more practical matters and she asked Jenny about extra bedlinen.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Alivia, who walked in at that moment. ‘I don’t need fancy linen to stretch out on the sofa in the living room.’

‘We’ve found camp beds,’ said Roisin.

‘Doubles?’ asked Alivia. ‘For Carl and Summer?’

‘Oh please!’ Roisin’s face was agonised. ‘I don’t even want to think about that.’

‘I’ll get the sleeping bags,’ said Jenny. ‘You can have one of those, Alivia. Thank God I never took Pascal’s advice to throw them out.’

The three women returned to the living room, where some of the guests were relaxing in the candlelight. Roisin outlined her thoughts about sleeping arrangements.

‘If you leave the sleeping bags and bedlinen or whatever here, we can work it out between us,’ said Bernice. She glanced at Carl. She’d be sleeping in the same house as him again. And his girlfriend. Who, she realised, wasn’t actually here at the moment. Davey and Camilla were missing too.

‘Where has everyone gone?’ asked Roisin. ‘Honestly, it’s like rounding up a bunch of kids.’

‘D’you want me to check?’ Alivia giggled. ‘I could knock on doors and ask them if they’re decent before I open them.’

Roisin made a face at her as Jenny returned with a variety of blankets and sleeping bags as well as a couple of torches.

‘The lanterns are great,’ she said. ‘But it’s a good idea to have torches too.’

‘Oh, Aunt Jenny, it’s just like when we were kids!’ cried Alivia. ‘I feel like I’ve stepped back twenty years.’

‘So do I,’ said Sarah, who was looking at the mound of bedding. ‘Especially as you’re making me share with Lucinda.’

‘Did you share before?’ asked Alivia.

‘When we were children, of course,’ replied her mother. ‘Your granny’s house only had two bedrooms.’

‘Really?’ Alivia looked surprised.

‘Yes. Me and Jenny and Lucinda in one, Mum and Dad in the other. Me and Lucinda shared a bed then.’

‘You were probably delighted when I left,’ remarked Jenny.

‘I had to wait around for both you
and
Sarah to leave before I had any privacy,’ said Lucinda.

‘I left to get privacy,’ said Sarah. ‘But all I did was get the wrong husband.’

The three sisters looked at each other.

‘That’s what you think?’ said Jenny.

‘That’s the actual fact.’ Sarah spoke slowly. ‘I never really thought about it like that before. But I guess the reason I wanted to be married and have kids – leaving aside my jealousy of you and your perfect life, Jen – was so that I could have a place of my own.’

‘You do realise that I never had a perfect life?’ said Jenny.

‘I thought you had.’

‘Nobody does,’ said Lucinda.

All of the women were silent.

Jenny thought about the mistakes she’d made and the effect they’d had on other people. Her sisters had resented her, she realised, but she hadn’t realised it. Because she’d been the only one to know that the picture she’d painted hadn’t been true.

‘But we do the best we can,’ said Alivia to break the silence. ‘Everyone does.’ Even as she spoke, she checked her mobile. Still no reply from Dermot to her last text. She sighed. She was doing her best too. But now she wondered if it was going to be enough.

Camilla had fled upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom, ignoring Davey’s calls to her to wait and let him explain. She didn’t want to hear some kind of made-up story when it was perfectly obvious to her that there was something going on between him and his cousin. She’d wondered earlier, when she’d seen the way Colette had looked at him, a repressed longing in her dark eyes. Camilla knew that look. She’d worn it herself in the past. When she’d been in love with Mikkel Hansen. She’d been sixteen at the time and Mikkel, a friend of her half-brother’s, had never even noticed her, but her longing had been expressed in her face every time he came to the house. She knew that because her mother had laughed at her one day and told her she was like a lovesick cow pining after a bull. Camilla had been horrified that her secret, innermost desires had been clear for everyone to see (everyone except Mikkel himself, who continued to ignore her). She resolved that in the future she would be self-contained, clear-headed and emotionless. She knew that she wasn’t actually emotionless, that it was impossible not to have feelings, but she’d grown very, very good at hiding them.

Now, sitting on the edge of the bath, her eyes adjusting to the fact that the room was illuminated by a single tea light on the windowsill, she wasn’t hiding her emotions at all. Tears were streaming down her face and she couldn’t stop them. She hadn’t realised she was going to cry. She hadn’t realised that it mattered to her that Davey Sheehan was her boyfriend. She’d thought he was someone she cared deeply about; someone she could, perhaps, marry if she felt that way inclined, but someone who would be easy to leave if she didn’t. She’d been completely and utterly wrong about that because now she was devastated. Devastated at the idea that there was someone else in his life. Devastated that he’d hidden it from her. Devastated at realising she didn’t know him at all.

‘For God’s sake, Cam, open the door.’ Davey waited until his Aunt Jenny had disappeared downstairs again with an armful of blankets before he banged on the bathroom door.

‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ she said.

‘I have to talk to you,’ he told her.

‘You don’t.’

‘I do.’

‘No,’ said Camilla.

‘Please,’ said Davey. ‘You’ve got it all wrong.’

‘I don’t think so,’ she said.

Davey leaned his head against the door. He’d planned everything about today and how he’d ask Camilla to marry him, and he’d tried not to imagine what it would be like if she said no, but never in his wildest dreams had he envisaged the way things would turn out.

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