My Mother's Secret (33 page)

‘Camilla, it’s me, Colette.’ Colette had hesitated before following the two of them up the stairs but she hoped she’d be able to help.

‘Go away,’ said Camilla. ‘Both of you.’

Davey looked at Colette in desperation.

‘She needs some time,’ said Colette. ‘She doesn’t want to hear what she thinks are lies.’

‘But they’re not lies,’ said Davey. ‘I want to tell her how much I love her. That it’s only ever been her. That there’s no one else in my life and there never will be. I want to ask her to marry me.’

His words were like a whip lashing across Colette’s face. But they were words she knew were true. And she was glad that he was speaking them. She was also glad that the landing outside the bathroom door was in almost complete darkness.

‘I had a crush on you,’ she said rapidly. ‘When we were kids. Well, I was a kid, you were a teenager. I fancied you. That’s why I tried on the ring.’

‘You’re joking.’ He sounded appalled.

‘You were nice to me when nobody else was,’ she said. ‘When I had the fight with Steffie, when she fell out of the tree, it was because I’d written about you in my diary and I didn’t want her to see it.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘I was afraid she’d make fun of me. Or tell you.’

‘I had no idea,’ said Davey. ‘I never thought …’

‘People don’t, I suppose, when you have crushes,’ said Colette.

‘But it wore off, right? I mean, you’ve been engaged three times.’

‘Because I kept thinking I’d find something of you in them,’ said Colette.

Davey didn’t know what to say.

‘But I’m over it now.’ She smiled faintly at him.

‘Now? Since when?’

‘I guess there’s always been a bit of something in the background,’ said Colette. ‘But today. Since I tried on the engagement ring. It’s gone.’

‘There was no something from me.’ Davey’s voice was firm. ‘I’m sorry if that breaks your heart or anything, but … Colette, you were a kid. I never, ever thought …’

‘I realise that,’ she said. ‘I always knew it. It was a dream, that’s all.’

He groaned.

‘Not any more,’ she said. ‘I promise. It was silliness.’

Davey rubbed his head. ‘Maybe I can talk sense into Camilla. Maybe she’ll understand. But listening to you, Colette, my faith in the sense of womankind has been fairly shattered.’

‘I can see that.’ She twirled the ring on her finger. ‘I do. I wish there was something I could … Oh!’ She looked at him in surprise as it suddenly slid free. ‘Oh my God. It’s come off. Just like that.’

‘Give it to me,’ said Davey.

She handed it to him. In the darkness it was nothing more than a piece of yellow metal. The diamonds weren’t able to glitter.

‘I’ll wait here till she comes out,’ he said. ‘And then … well, we’ll see.’

‘Good luck, Davey,’ said Colette. She moved to kiss him on the cheek but then drew back. ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed.’

‘Thanks,’ said Davey as she turned around and walked back down the stairs.

Chapter 29

Steffie was lying in the crook of Liam’s arm, but she was thinking about Steve. It seemed like an eternity since she’d felt hurt by his decision not to come to the anniversary party and then decided to break up with him. But she hadn’t actually said anything to him before she’d jumped into bed with another man. If he knew where she was, he’d say she was cheating on him. But circumstances altered the facts. Didn’t they?

Her mother had said that to her earlier when trying to explain about her fake marriage and her fling with Gregory. Steffie hadn’t wanted to believe that when presented in a particular way people’s actions could seem callous and unthinking, but that they were in fact influenced by what was going on around them and maybe even understandable. Not that Jenny having an affair was remotely understandable, or forgivable, but Steffie wondered if, twenty-seven years ago, her mother had been swept away by the same feelings that had taken over Steffie herself tonight. An overwhelming desire for someone that was simply irresistible. A feeling that what you were doing was inevitable and right.

Not that what Jenny had done could ever have been considered right. Fair enough, thought Steffie, she herself might have technically cheated on Steve, but at least she wasn’t supposed to be married to him. Jenny didn’t have that excuse. The fact that she wasn’t actually married to Pascal was completely irrelevant.

Steffie shifted slightly in the bed and Liam pulled his arm from beneath her. But he didn’t roll away as she’d expected, just turned so that he was curling up behind her, pulling her close to him.

‘Okay?’ he whispered.

‘Yes.’

‘You know you were amazing earlier.’

‘So were you, to be honest.’

He chuckled in the darkness.

‘I never thought I’d sleep with you, Steffie Sheehan. Never even dreamed about it.’

‘You weren’t exactly on my radar either.’

He didn’t answer. His breathing became deep and steady and Steffie realised that he’d fallen asleep. Men did, she thought, after making love. She’d read somewhere that it was because of hormones or something. Men slept but women … She couldn’t remember what she’d read about women, but she knew that it took her ages to fall asleep after being with someone for the first time. Not that there had been all that many notches on her bedpost. She wouldn’t be breaking any records. But she had a bit of experience. Enough to know that making love to Liam Kinsella was in the number one position by a mile. That first time had been phenomenal. And the second even better. So where did that leave her, she wondered, in the emotional stakes? Because she wasn’t the sort of girl, experienced or not, who normally put out on a first date. A minimum of three was where she set the bar. With Steve it had been four, because the first date didn’t really count; they’d gone for something to eat after working late, nothing more. And this thing with Liam – well, it wasn’t even a first date, plus he’d made it clear earlier that he didn’t have time for relationships because he was so caught up with running the restaurant. Which was fine. Tonight had been a one-off, sparked by the situation they’d found themselves in. She wasn’t expecting anything from Liam. It was too complicated. But the idea that they wouldn’t do again what they’d done tonight was heartbreaking.

Was that what Jenny had thought about Gregory? That it had been so good she couldn’t say no? Despite Pascal and despite Roisin and despite Davey? Had Gregory been her Liam Kinsella? Steffie wrinkled her nose at the thought. She really didn’t want to compare herself to her mother, especially when the subject was their sex lives. She didn’t want to think of Jenny’s sex life even for a nanosecond. And yet she herself was the result of it. Of Jenny’s days of wild abandon. She was the result of a passionate fling. She supposed the newspapers would call her a love child.

At least there was no chance of there being a pregnancy from her own passionate sex with Liam. They’d been upfront about protection, and although she’d briefly wondered how many times he’d had the conversation before, the only thing she’d cared about was how wonderful being with him was.

Tomorrow I’ll get up and walk away, she said to herself. But tonight – if for no other reason than it was the best sex of my life – I’m very glad I was here.

‘People are going to bed, Camilla,’ said Davey. ‘They’ll be wanting to use the bathroom. You can’t stay in there.’

There was no reply. He leaned his head against the locked door and sighed. Then he almost fell as it opened inward.

‘I’m leaving the bathroom so that no one is inconvenienced. I don’t want to talk to you,’ said Camilla as he steadied himself.

‘I have to explain—’

‘I do not believe in explanations,’ said Camilla. ‘People trying to justify themselves. Trying to come up with something that will make other people happy.’

‘I’m not coming up with anything,’ said Davey. ‘All I want is to tell you what happened.’

‘I don’t want to know what happened.’

‘Yes, you do.’ He caught her by the wrist and she stood perfectly still. For a moment he thought she was going to snatch her hand away and accuse him of assaulting her, but they heard voices on the stairway and both of them hesitated. Davey opened the door to Roisin’s bedroom, which was the nearest, and pulled Camilla inside. It took a couple of seconds for their eyes to adjust to the almost total darkness. Davey could see his nephew curled up asleep in the middle of the big double bed.

‘You’ve got it all wrong about Colette and me,’ he whispered to Camilla. ‘And I can’t let your stubborn pride allow you to think there was anything at all going on between us. I’m not making up stories so that you feel better. I’m telling you the God’s honest truth. If, after you hear it, you’re still mad at me and never want to see me again, that’s fine. But you have to hear me out.’

‘OK,’ murmured Camilla, after a short pause. ‘Say what you have to say.’

So Davey did and Camilla listened.

‘You’re saying that your cousin has been in love with you all her life?’ asked Camilla, when he’d finished.

‘Not in love with me,’ amended Davey. ‘In love with some kind of ideal that she thought I represented. She was only a kid when she stayed with us that summer. Her parents’ marriage was crumbling. She was miserable. I guess she saw me as some kind of romantic figure.’ He could sense, rather than see, the sceptical expression on Camilla’s face. ‘I was a lot younger and better-looking back then,’ he added.

‘A heart-throb,’ said Camilla.

‘To an impressionable young girl,’ said Davey.

‘And now?’ asked Camilla.

‘Like I said, she’s been engaged three times,’ Davey told her. ‘She’s looking for something and someone but at last she knows it isn’t me.’

‘It’s hard to believe,’ said Camilla.

‘Because in it I’m some kind of sex symbol?’ Davey sounded rueful.

‘Maybe real life is always harder to believe than things people make up,’ said Camilla.

‘Maybe.’ He peered anxiously at her. ‘So … do you believe me?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Camilla after a pause. ‘It’s too ridiculous not to be true.’

‘In that case – are we OK again?’

Camilla didn’t answer straight away. She was reliving the emotions she’d felt when she’d seen Davey and Colette together, when she’d rushed to conclusions about their relationship. The jealousy was still like a dagger of ice in her heart. She knew now that she loved Davey and wanted him for herself. Which went against everything she’d ever believed in before – being detached, being cool, being in control. She’d been proud of how she’d cultivated that personality. How she never crumbled. How she’d changed after her mother had joked about how emotional she’d been. It had been important to her for a long time. But perhaps it was different now. Perhaps it always should have been different. Perhaps she, Camilla Rasmussen, was different too. She allowed her head to rest on Davey’s chest.

‘We’re OK,’ she whispered. ‘I shouldn’t always jump to conclusions.’

‘The talk about Vaseline didn’t help,’ murmured Davey, and felt Camilla giggle. A wave of relief washed over him. The woman he loved believed him. Believed in him. Enough to stay with him for ever?

It wasn’t how he’d planned it, of course. But then nothing ever worked out the way he planned. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out the engagement ring.

‘I wanted this moment to be special,’ he said softly. ‘I wanted it to be memorable. I had all sorts of plans for how it was going to be. But the only thing that matters now is to ask you. Will you marry me, Camilla?’

She took the ring from him. The ring that she’d seen another woman wearing. She supposed that if you were the sort of person who looked for omens and portents, it might mean something. If you allowed yourself to become emotional about things. But even if she was allowing herself to be more emotional than usual tonight, she was, and always would be, a practical woman and the ring was beautiful. She slid it on to her finger. It fitted perfectly. She looked at Davey and smiled.

‘Of course I’ll marry you,’ she said and kissed him.

‘Oh yuck.’ Dougie sat up in bed. ‘You’re kissing. In my bedroom. That’s totally disgusting.’

‘This takes me back,’ said Lucinda as she and Sarah sat on the end of Steffie’s bed, a selection of tea lights flickering on the dresser in front of them.

‘How many years?’ asked Sarah.

‘Since we shared a room? Gosh it must be thirty-five … no, oh my God, Sarah, it’s thirty-seven years!’

‘That makes me feel old.’

‘Me too.’

‘But then we are old. We’re in our fifties.’

‘Fifty is the new thirty,’ said Lucinda. ‘So they say.’

‘Hmm. They were never around to say that when I was thirty,’ said Sarah.

‘Me neither.’

The two of them laughed.

‘I don’t feel all that different,’ Sarah said. ‘I still think the best years of my life are ahead of me. But they can’t be, can they? Being realistic, there’s more years behind than in front now.’

‘No reason why the ones in front can’t be the best,’ remarked Lucinda.

‘Do you actually believe that?’

Lucinda sighed. ‘I wish I did. If that was the case, I’d meet someone gorgeous and baggage-free and live happily ever after with him.’

‘Unlikely,’ said Sarah. ‘I suppose if there is a gorgeous, baggage-free man out there, he’s looking for a gorgeous, baggage-free woman. And let’s face it, neither of us count on that score!’

‘True.’

‘So maybe we need to adjust our expectations.’

‘It would be good to think there was someone out there who wasn’t weighed down by his past,’ said Lucinda. ‘But by our age the baggage is huge, isn’t it?’

‘Mine came spilling on to the carousel earlier,’ said Sarah. ‘First when we got here and everything seemed so perfect. And more when Jenny told us her secrets and we realised it wasn’t. I managed to blame her both for getting nothing wrong and for getting nothing right.’

‘Poor Jenny. I feel sorry for her tonight.’

‘I’ve never felt sorry for her in my life,’ said Sarah. ‘Truthfully, I don’t think I ever will. But today has to have been a nightmare for her.’

‘She’ll get over it,’ said Lucinda. ‘But nothing will be the same again.’