My Mother's Secret (6 page)

‘I’m sorry,’ Steve said again. ‘I know you wanted some moral support today, but to be honest, Steff, I’m not sure it’s really my sort of thing.’

She’d half expected this to happen. From the moment she’d told him about the party, Steve had given off negative vibes about coming along. Maybe it was her own fault for having complained to him so much about all the work she was doing for it in the first place. And for giving him some frankly freaky descriptions of her relatives. And for painting Roisin in such an unflattering, bossy light. She’d exaggerated because she was irritated by how put upon she felt. But she’d probably made it sound like the party from hell.

‘No problem,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’d have been bored out of your brains anyway.’

‘Very likely,’ he agreed. ‘I’m not the best in social situations.’

At least, not social situations that weren’t all about chilling out with friends and a few cool beers. She sighed. Those were the sort of social situations she preferred too. It was just that sometimes you had to step up to the plate and leave your comfort zone.

‘Don’t worry,’ she told him. ‘All I wanted was for you to keep people off my back. Single girls’ love lives are always a hot topic of conversation at weddings, engagements and anniversaries. Being a single man is fine – it’s like you’ve escaped a fate worse than death – but being a single woman is a total admission of failure. You’d swear we were still in the last century.’

Steve laughed. ‘That’s why I like you, Steffie,’ he said. ‘You tell it like it is. Call me when you get back to Dublin. We’ll get together and have a bit of fun in our own private social situation.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘Great. See you soon.’

‘See you,’ she said and ended the call.

She replaced the phone on the stool. Then she slid down into the cool bathwater again.

She wasn’t really surprised that Steve had got cold feet at the idea of all the Sheehans en masse. And not only Sheehans, she thought. There would be Mullens and Marshalls and Carmichaels too, all of whom had at various times stayed at Aranbeg. Nobody with even the slightest family link to Jenny and Pascal had been omitted from the guest list. Maybe it was for the best that Steve had bailed out. You didn’t bring people you weren’t fairly serious about to family occasions, and it was perfectly clear to her that even if she’d had notions about being serious with Steve, he currently didn’t feel the same way about her.

Her best friend Brianna often told her that she went out with the wrong sort of men deliberately, that she always chose the ones who weren’t looking for commitment, and that Steve was a prime example of this. Whenever Brianna voiced her opinion, Steffie would retort that it was impossible to know at the start how committed anyone was going to be. And yet … She sighed. Was she simply fooling herself? Was Brianna right, and she was afraid to find someone to be totally serious about just in case, like Steve, he wasn’t equally serious in return?

She slid further down into the bath. A girl could go mad guessing and second-guessing her own motivation, she thought as she captured some foam with her hands and sculpted rose-scented pyramids on her breasts. Maybe the reason I don’t want to get too serious is that I’m going to get that design contract and am therefore on the cusp of being the kind of ball-breaking woman who puts her career ahead of anything else in her life. And then dies alone and is eaten by her cats! She giggled to herself. Serious career women didn’t make conical bras from the foam in their baths, for heaven’s sake. She was an idiot. And she shouldn’t get annoyed, as she always did, about the remarks that would undoubtedly be made about her single state today. It was apparently an obligation at family events for every married member to ask the single women if they were thinking about giving up their freedom any day soon. Besides, she wouldn’t be the only one without a partner in tow. Her cousins Colette and Alivia, slightly older than her, were both single too. In fairness, Colette had actually been engaged three times but she’d broken it off long before actual wedding plans were made. In Alivia’s case, her career as a presenter on a popular afternoon TV show was on the up-and-up and she didn’t have time for serious relationships. The show had recently been commissioned for another series and Alivia was the anchor, so Steffie couldn’t see anyone telling her that she’d be better of being married with kids.

It’s only the women on Mum’s side who stay single, Steffie mused as she closed her eyes again. On Dad’s side, they’re all married. But perhaps I was right when I told Roisin there was nothing else to do in the nineties. All the married women are hitting forty. All the single ladies are in their late twenties or early thirties. We’re a different generation. We have a different outlook. And that’s a good thing.

A distant chime startled her and she sat up abruptly, sending a tidal wave over the side of the bath. She swore under her breath and for a brief moment wondered if it was Steve after all. Maybe he’d phoned her from his car on the way down to the house and had told her he wouldn’t be there so that she’d be pleasantly surprised when he did turn up. Highly unlikely, she admitted to herself as she got out of the bath and grabbed two towels, one for herself and one for the wet floor. It wasn’t his style. As she hastily wrapped the towel around her, it caught the edge of the stool and knocked her mobile to the floor, where it slid across the white tiles and slammed into the wall. Her heart sank as she picked it up. But although the screen was cracked for the third time in as many months, the phone itself was still working. She gave both it and herself a hasty wipe with the towel before pulling her dress on to her still damp body and then hurrying down the stairs in her bare feet, re-securing her hair with clips as she ran.

‘All right, all right,’ she yelled as the bell rang again. ‘Give me a second.’

At first she could hardly make out the man on the doorstep in front of her, shielded as he was by a simply gigantic bouquet of flowers arranged in a bronze vase. But then he lowered them and she could see that beneath a shock of ink-black hair, and day-old stubble, his indigo-blue eyes were sharp and piercing and looking at her with recognition.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Sorry if I disturbed you. It’s Steffie, isn’t it?’

‘Um, yes.’

‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

Steffie hated when people did this. Nobody in the world could be expected to remember everyone they’d ever met. And she met a lot of people these days. Although, given the still precarious nature of her business, she could always do with meeting more.

‘I’m sorry.’ Better to ’fess up now than try to pretend. ‘I’m not sure …’

‘Liam. Liam Kinsella,’ he said.

It took a moment and then she remembered.

‘Liam Kinsella? Michelle’s brother?’

The Kinsellas lived in Castlemoran and she and Michelle had played with each other as children during the long summer holidays. But they’d lost contact when they’d left school and Steffie hadn’t heard from the other girl in years.

‘You’ve changed,’ she said, barely managing to keep the shock out of her voice. When she’d known him, Liam had been a barrel of a boy. Overweight, with train-track braces on his teeth and a perpetual hangdog expression, he hadn’t given any indication of turning into the undeniably attractive man standing on her doorstep.

‘So have you.’ His eyes flickered up and down her body and she suddenly realised that her cotton dress was sticking to her. And that she hadn’t bothered with any underwear.

‘Yes, well,’ she said as she tugged at the dress and hoped that it wasn’t too revealing. ‘What can I do for you?’ As far as she remembered, he hadn’t been invited to the party. Neither had Michelle. Although Mr and Mrs Kinsella were on the guest list, and had accepted.

‘Mum asked me to bring these around,’ he said, indicating the floral display in his arms. ‘She wanted to get it here early so that you could place it somewhere suitable.’

‘That’s really nice of her,’ said Steffie. ‘It’s gorgeous. And very extravagant.’

‘Mum owns the florist’s,’ Liam reminded her.

‘Oh. Yes. So she does.’ Steffie had forgotten that too. The truth was, she’d left her life at Aranbeg and all the people in it behind her a long time ago. ‘I’ll put it on the veranda,’ she suggested. ‘It’s where most of the party will be happening.’

‘Do you want me to carry it for you?’ asked Liam.

‘If you wouldn’t mind.’ It wasn’t that she was weak or feeble or anything, but the arrangement looked heavy and Steffie didn’t fancy dropping it on the floor that she’d swept and washed half an hour previously. She led the way to the veranda, where Liam commented on how festive the celebratory banners and balloons made it, before placing the floral arrangement on a small table that he thought was prominent enough to satisfy his mother.

‘It really is nice of your mum to send it,’ said Steffie.

‘She’s good with flowers,’ agreed Liam.

Steffie vaguely remembered occasionally calling to the florist’s to meet Michelle. She’d liked the scent of the cut flowers and the artistic way that Liam’s mum had arranged them.

‘Do you work with her?’ asked Steffie.

Liam grinned. ‘Not me. I’m a chef.’

Recalling the fact that she’d rarely seen him without some kind of food when he was younger, Steffie wasn’t altogether surprised. Although clearly he cooked more than he ate these days.

‘In Cody’s,’ added Liam. ‘It’s my restaurant.’

‘You own a restaurant?’ And perhaps that shouldn’t have been a surprise either.

‘The best in town,’ he assured her. ‘If you’re staying for a while, you should come and eat there. I guarantee you’ll like it.’

‘Unfortunately I’m going back to Dublin first thing,’ Steffie told him.

‘That’s a shame. We do a superb Sunday lunch at Cody’s.’

‘Sadly, I have to pass,’ she replied. ‘Another time, maybe.’

‘I look forward to welcoming you.’ He smiled at her. ‘What are you doing with yourself these days, Steffie?’

‘I’m a graphic designer,’ she said. ‘I have my own company.’ She added the last with a touch of pride.

‘Good for you,’ said Liam. ‘I always thought you’d end up in something arty. I remember you trailing around the place with notebooks and pencils, drawing stuff. Just like your mum.’

‘Oh.’ Steffie was taken aback. She hadn’t thought he would’ve noticed her at all. Older brothers generally didn’t have time for their younger sisters’ friends. ‘Well, I suppose you’ve found your right choice of career too.’ Even as the words were out of her mouth she felt her cheeks flame, and regretted her lack of sensitivity.

‘I always loved my food,’ he said, unperturbed. ‘Now I love cooking it for other people. So do please drop in if you change your mind and stay longer. Or indeed any time you come down.’

‘Thank you. I will.’

‘Meantime it looks as though you’re all set up for a great party,’ Liam said.

‘I think we’ve gone a bit overboard on the red.’ Steffie wrinkled her nose as she looked around her. ‘But it’s their ruby wedding so we’ve kind of embraced the theme.’

‘They’ll love it,’ he assured her.

‘Hope so.’ She hesitated. ‘We didn’t invite you or Michelle, did we?’

Liam shook his head. ‘But I wouldn’t have expected you to.’

‘All the same … if either of you want to drop by, you’re very welcome.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a case of the more the merrier.’

‘I’m working tonight, and Michelle is away on holidays, but thank you anyway,’ said Liam.

She nodded. ‘Of course. Saturday night must be your busiest.’

‘Thankfully,’ said Liam. ‘I’ll be off. I hope you have a wonderful time and that the weather holds.’

‘Fingers crossed,’ said Steffie. ‘Thanks again for bringing the flowers, and tell your mum we’ll see her later.’

‘Will do.’ Liam gave her a cheerful smile and turned back towards his car at the front of the house. ‘Lovely seeing you again, Steffie. You look fantastic.’

When he was gone, Steffie went back upstairs to the bathroom. She picked up her cracked phone and checked the weather forecast. The icon had changed from a smiley sun to white clouds, although the temperature was still high. So was the humidity.

She closed the app, then looked at herself in the full-length mirror and squeaked in horror. Thanks to her damp skin, the dress was practically see-through. Liam Kinsella had probably been laughing at her, if not leering at her, the whole time. She went into her room, peeled it over her head and put on the light robe hanging from the door instead. Then she opened her overnight bag and took out the summer dress, white with a purple floral print, that she’d chosen to wear to the party. She was fastening the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons when she heard the sound of the front door opening.

She waited, immobile, until she heard Roisin call her name. Then she stepped on to the landing and peered over the banister.

‘That was quick,’ she said. ‘You must’ve driven like a maniac.’

‘Not a bit,’ said Roisin. ‘I was in Bunclody when I rang you.’

‘Oh.’

‘Anyway, Paul texted a while back. He managed to delay them some more because Dougie insisted Dad help him shower.’

‘Good old Dougie,’ said Steffie.

‘They won their match,’ Roisin said in satisfaction. ‘And I bet Dad enjoyed it anyway.’

‘Are Mum and Dad on their way now?’

‘I guess so. There were getting ready to leave when Paul texted me.’

‘You still think he’ll manage to get here ahead of them?’ Steffie sounded doubtful.

‘Everything was ready. I laid out Poppy’s dress and Dougie’s shirt and shorts earlier. Daisy, of course, has had her own outfit selected since last week, and despite the fact that she takes an age to get ready, she’s been primping herself all day. So they don’t have to do much and at least this way I get time to do my own make-up.’

‘Mum wasn’t suspicious when you left with a case?’ asked Steffie.

‘I put most of my stuff in my biggest handbag,’ said Roisin. ‘Anyway, let’s have a look at what you’ve done so far.’

Still fastening the buttons of her dress, Steffie came downstairs again and both sisters walked to the veranda.

‘Not bad,’ said Roisin as she rearranged the balloons. ‘When did you get the flowers? They’re nice. A bit OTT, but nice.’