Putting Out the Stars (39 page)

Just then Polly trotted out of the sitting room, clutching a higgledy-piggledy arrangement of Lego. ‘Mama, look.’

‘God.’ Laura pushed her hands through her curls and looked across at her brother in horror. ‘How could you have done that? How could you? I can’t believe
it.’

At least he had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I don’t know . . . I was stupid, I don’t know. But Laura –’ he paused, spread his palms up helplessly, ‘– I
love her.’

‘Which one?’ Laura’s voice was hard.

‘Breffni, of course.’ He looked beseechingly at her. ‘Please try and understand – I’m totally in love with her.’

‘And Ruth? Where does she figure? Or had you even thought about your wife in all this?’ Laura glared at him. ‘Your
pregnant
wife?’

He hung his head. ‘Of course I’ve thought about Ruth; I feel as guilty as hell about her.’ He looked up again, pleading for Laura to see it his way. ‘But it was a
mistake; the marriage was a big mistake. I should never have . . . we should never –’

‘Oh, right.’ She tried to control her voice; didn’t want it to start shaking with rage. ‘You made a mistake; so you’re just going to walk away from it? You’re
going to walk away from your own child? And, speaking of children –’ her eyes blazed into his ‘– have you considered Polly in all this?’

‘Yes, of course we have.’ He let a hint of exasperation creep into his voice. Laura knew it was because she wasn’t saying what he wanted to hear. Wasn’t sympathising with
poor Andrew, wasn’t trying to find a way to help him out. ‘Polly will come with us, of course. You didn’t think Breffni would leave her behind?’

‘And you think Cian will let her go.’ She said it flatly, staring at him.

His confused expression gave her some satisfaction; maybe at last she was getting through to him. ‘What?’

Laura picked up her glass, took a sip; her mouth felt desperately dry. ‘Why would you imagine he’d give up his daughter to his adulterous partner?’

‘I . . . didn’t think he’d have a choice. I mean, it’s not as if they’re married . . .’

‘So what – you assumed the mother would automatically get the child, even though she’s the home-wrecker?’ Laura shook her head. ‘Sorry; that may have been true in
the last millennium, but not now.’

He looked at her for a few seconds without speaking, then lifted his glass and drained it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded at Laura’s empty glass. ‘Want
another?’

She nodded shortly. He’d been right – this was going to take some time. She sighed deeply as she watched him walk to the bar, saw two young females turn to look at him. What a mess
he’d managed to get himself into – planning to run off with his sister’s best friend, just after his new wife discovered she was pregnant.

Laura had always known that Andrew was selfish. All his life, things had come easily to him – with his looks and his charm, he’d never been short of friends, or girlfriends; and
he’d walked into his job straight after college – but her sister’s eye had allowed her to see him for what he really was. And when you thought about it, who could blame him for
being selfish? Andrew had grown up believing the myth that Cecily had built around him: that he was perfect, that he deserved anything he wanted.

Laura loved him, of course; they’d always got on, despite the obvious difference in the way they were treated by Cecily. Laura had never held their mother’s favouritism against him;
it wasn’t his fault. And they’d had lots of good times, growing up. But he certainly wasn’t the saint that Cecily – and probably poor Ruth – believed him to be. He was
spoilt and self-obsessed, and he took whatever he wanted without a thought for the consequences.

And even as she shoved aside a stab of jealousy at the thought of Ruth’s pregnancy, Laura’s heart went out to her. Poor, innocent Ruth. Believing herself loved by her husband, no
doubt thrilled to discover that she was carrying his baby. Dreaming of their perfect future together – with maybe lots more children to come. Poor, stupid Ruth. She deserved someone
better.

But she had chosen Andrew. And now that he’d forced Laura into his confidence, wasn’t it her duty to help Ruth? Didn’t her sister-in-law deserve someone on her side in this
awful situation?

Laura watched as Andrew came back towards her with the drinks, and realised, with dread, what she would have to do.

‘Is everything all right, my dear?’ Frank looked over at Cecily with concern. ‘You’ve hardly touched your chicken; is it not to your liking?’

Cecily looked down at her plate and knew that she wouldn’t manage another bite, even though she’d eaten nothing since a half slice of brown toast at eight this morning. She shook her
head slightly as she laid down her knife and fork beside one another. ‘I’m sorry, Frank, I don’t seem to have much of an appetite this evening.’ She looked around the
unfamiliar restaurant; she should have known that the new surroundings wouldn’t make the slightest difference. Being out again with Frank only served to remind her of the last terrible night,
when she’d seen her son across the room with another woman.

Since she’d driven away unsteadily from that awful scene in Nenagh the other morning, Cecily’s thoughts had been in turmoil. Her delight when Ruth had phoned her with the news
– here was exactly what she needed – had started to evaporate as soon as she’d stepped into Breffni’s grubby little kitchen. Oh, she’d said what she’d come
prepared to say, had invented Andrew’s confession just like she’d planned, and it had all sounded so plausible to her. It seemed, too, that Breffni was swallowing it all – after
her initial denial, which Cecily had expected, of course. And her parting shot, her crude put-down of Andrew, had definitely seemed genuine. It sounded like she really wasn’t intending to
contact him again.

But maybe she was a better liar than Cecily was giving her credit for. Maybe even now she was back with him, telling him everything, discovering that Cecily hadn’t confronted Andrew with
her discovery after all.

Tossing in her bed at night, Cecily imagined the two of them laughing at her, sneering at her well-meant intervention. Despising her for trying to separate them.

It had been a mistake to come out with Frank tonight; there was nowhere they could go where she could feel comfortable. Until this dreadful situation was resolved, Cecily was going to be no
company for him. She looked across at his concerned face. ‘I think I’d like to go home.’

‘Of course.’ He was on his feet, signalling to the waiter for the bill, taking her coat from the back of her chair and helping her into it. She imagined telling him everything, and
knew she wouldn’t dream of it – even though he’d probably be full of understanding and sympathy. And. of course, telling Laura was completely out of the question.

No, this was something Cecily would have to cope with alone. She had done what she could; now all that was left was to wait, and hope, and pray.

‘You’re in rare form today.’ Helen smiled at Ruth across the row of chairs.

Ruth beamed back. ‘It’s this spring in the air; I always get a lift when I see the days getting longer.’

‘Oh right.’ Helen nodded. ‘It’s got nothing to do with the brand new house, and the hunk of a husband then?’ Andrew had collected her from work one rainy evening,
and since being introduced to him, Helen and Sal had missed no opportunity to tease Ruth good-naturedly about the man with the film-star looks she’d married.

‘Well, I suppose they have something to do with it.’ Ruth grinned happily, thanking her lucky stars for the millionth time that she’d chanced to call in here looking for a job.
Mind you, she’d be out of work when Carol, the stylist Ruth had replaced, was ready to come back after her maternity leave. But by then, Ruth would be getting ready to have her own baby
– the thought of the tiny creature growing inside her caused her the same thrill that it always did – the same thrill she’d felt when she’d held the pregnancy test wand in
trembling hands and seen the precious blue line. She was dying to tell Helen – wanted to tell the whole world, but it was still a bit soon.

Helen glanced at the clock. ‘Hey, it’s your lunch time. Go out and skip in the sun for yourself.’

Ruth laughed. ‘Maybe I will. By the way, I’m going to the post office – have you anything you want me to drop in?’

‘Oh, hang on – I have, actually.’ As Helen went into the back, Ruth looked out the window. Blue sky, hardly a cloud. Still cool enough to need a jacket, but definite spring
weather, full of everything bursting into life. She hugged herself, wondering if she could bear all this happiness.

‘Hello?’

‘Breffni – it’s me.’

A pause, then, ‘Oh, hi there.’ Another pause. ‘How’re things?’ Her voice sounded flat.

‘Fine . . . actually, I have some good news.’
Right, here goes.

Breffni said nothing, just waited.

‘Ruth is pregnant; isn’t that great?’ Laura prayed that her voice didn’t sound as horribly false as it felt.

Nothing. No sound from the other end.

‘Breffni? Are you there?’

‘Yeah, no, that’s great . . .’

Was that a stifled sob? ‘You sound like you’ve a cold.’ No way was she going to give sympathy.

‘Mmm – all stuffed up . . .’ Another muffled sob.

Suddenly Laura thought
this is ridiculous.
‘Breffni, I know. Andrew told me.’

Loud sobbing now. ‘God, oh Christ . . . Laura, I’m so sorry . . .’ Her voice was ragged, thick with tears. ‘I’m so sorry . . . Jesus . . .’

‘How the hell could you? How could you do it?’ Laura felt a rising anger. ‘Could you not keep your hands off him? He was just married, for Christ’s sake. What’s
wrong
with you?’

No response, just loud sobbing, then the phone put down, gently.

Laura stood holding the dead phone, trying to breathe the anger out of her. She heard Donal’s key in the front door and hung up.

Donal walked in. ‘Hey babe, gossiping as usual.’

She nodded, kissed his cheek. ‘Can’t beat a good old gossip. Come on; lunch is on the table.’