Stand by Me (43 page)
The major flaw in her plan, of course, was that the Costa was teeming with late-summer visitors and that it would have been a miracle if she’d picked a single person out from the hordes that flocked to the beaches by day and the bars by night. After eventually retrieving her luggage in Malaga, she’d gone on to Torremolinos, then to Benalmadena and finally to Marbella and Puerto Banus, where she’d shown his picture at some of the bars and restaurants and asked if anyone remembered him. The wall of silence that greeted her made her realise that she might not be the first person ever to come looking for someone in this part of the world, and that most people kept their mouths shut. She remembered the TV detective dramas that she loved to watch, and that sometimes showing photos and asking about people had unintended consequences, and she suddenly felt alone and vulnerable and didn’t want to stay any longer.
She couldn’t get a flight out for two days, and so she returned to Malaga and stayed at an inexpensive hotel close to the airport. Now that she’d decided to leave, she wanted to get home as soon as possible. She phoned Kelly and told her that she missed her and was looking forward to seeing her again. Kelly told her that she’d missed her too and then said that she had sorted out the student accommodation with Alicia and her other two friends, and Dominique suddenly felt as though she was unnecessary in her daughter’s life. She told herself that she was being silly and that Kelly had always done her own thing before, and that she herself was doing her own thing, wasn’t she, by skittering around haphazardly looking for Brendan - the whole trip, she thought, had been as ill thought out as anything she’d ever done in her life before. She knew now that she hadn’t really expected to find him, that it had all simply been an excuse to get away.
And now she was going home. And she’d have to face whatever needed to be faced when she got there.
It had all been a waste of time and money, and yet, she thought as the plane came to a stop at Cork airport terminal, it had been strangely cathartic. She hadn’t found Brendan, but she had learned that she was perfectly capable of managing on her own. She’d learned that she had reserves of strength that she’d never quite believed in, because she’d always felt that someone who’d once been unable to get out of bed to face the day ahead of them couldn’t possibly have inner strength.
But her life was still a mess. And she still had no idea how she was going to cope in the future, inner strength or no inner strength.
Then she saw Kelly waiting for her and a smile broke out on her face. Only now, seeing her in front of her, did she realise how much she’d missed her daughter during her few weeks of independence. As she hugged her close, she realised that she was very, very glad to be home. Even if she still didn’t have the faintest idea where her husband was and what on earth he was doing.
Even if everything and nothing had changed.
Chapter 23
There was a letter waiting for her when she arrived back at Lily’s. It was from her old friend Maeve Mulligan.
Dear Dominique
, she’d written.
I hope this reaches you. I’m working on the assumption that people in Castlecannon know where you are. I’m sorry we lost touch after you moved to Cork, but I know you’ve been busy becoming a style icon and socialite because I’ve seen your picture in magazines. I never would’ve thought it back in school, when you were so worried about your spots! Naturally I’ve read about the other stuff too and I’m very sorry that this has happened to you. I thought that perhaps you might like to meet up, have a chat, remember old times. If you don’t want to, that’s fine of course. But I’d love to get together with you again. Don’t worry, I’m sure things will turn out OK. Love, Maeve.
, she’d written.
I hope this reaches you. I’m working on the assumption that people in Castlecannon know where you are. I’m sorry we lost touch after you moved to Cork, but I know you’ve been busy becoming a style icon and socialite because I’ve seen your picture in magazines. I never would’ve thought it back in school, when you were so worried about your spots! Naturally I’ve read about the other stuff too and I’m very sorry that this has happened to you. I thought that perhaps you might like to meet up, have a chat, remember old times. If you don’t want to, that’s fine of course. But I’d love to get together with you again. Don’t worry, I’m sure things will turn out OK. Love, Maeve.
Dominique felt her eyes fill with the dreaded tears again as she re-read Maeve’s letter. It was what she’d wanted before, from all her friends in Cork. Someone to support her unconditionally. Someone who wasn’t judging her or criticising her or making assumptions about her. Someone who knew her as Dominique Brady, not Dazzling Domino Delahaye.
Maeve had written her mobile number on the letter. Dominique called her.
‘How are you doing?’ Maeve’s voice was warm.
‘Not so bad,’ said Dominique. ‘I’ve been away. Sort of looking for Brendan and sort of . . . well, just getting away.’
‘I understand that,’ said Maeve. ‘It must be tough for you.’
‘A bit.’ Dominique was determined not to sound like a victim. ‘But, sure, I’ll get over it.’
‘Why don’t you come up to town?’ asked Maeve. ‘We could do dinner, that sort of thing.’
‘I’d love to.’ Dominique’s tone was heartfelt.
‘Next week?’ suggested Maeve.
‘Perfect,’ said Dominique. ‘Oh, Maeve, I just can’t wait to see you.’
Most of her social interaction seemed to be by phone these days. She took calls from Colin, her solicitor, and from her new bank manager, Nicholas, who was friendly and approachable and helpful about how best she could manage her limited resources. She was also phoned by Lena, one of her old charity group friends, to say that the annual gala ball was taking place in Jurys this year and that she was sorry Dominique couldn’t attend. Dominique was both touched by Lena’s phone call and hurt by the fact that one of the reasons she wasn’t attending was simply that she hadn’t actually been invited.
‘I hope you’re keeping well,’ Lena said, and Dominique replied that she was fine, absolutely.
‘Well, all the best.’
It was clear that Lena felt she’d done enough by ringing her in the first place, and Dominique was grateful that she had.
And then she had the phone call from Greg, asking her to meet him in Cork. He needed to talk to her.
‘Have you heard from Brendan?’ Her voice was anxious.
‘No,’ replied Greg. ‘But we do have to have a chat.’
They met in a small café off Patrick Street. Dominique was struck by the fact that Greg looked pale and drawn, and she realised how much of an impact Brendan’s disappearance had had on everyone in the Delahaye family.
‘You look great,’ Greg told her. ‘Tanned and healthy.’
‘I don’t feel great,’ she assured him wryly. ‘I still feel as though my whole life is balanced on an eggshell.’
He smiled. ‘You’re doing well, though.’
‘I’m coping,’ she agreed. ‘I suppose you have to, don’t you?’
He nodded.
‘And you?’ she asked. ‘You’re looking a bit tired, Greg. Are you OK?’
She knew from the expression on his face that he wasn’t.
‘Emma ...’ He cleared his throat. ‘Emma and I have split up,’ he said.
‘Oh, Greg, no.’
‘Oh, Domino, yes.’ He shrugged. ‘It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Eventually.’
‘Why should it have been inevitable?’ she asked.
‘Because you and I both know that Emma was never really in love with me,’ said Greg.
‘Is this because of what June said?’ asked Dominique. ‘I know she’s your sister, but she can be a terrible bitch.’
‘She stirs it up all right, but Emma ...’
‘Emma loves you, Greg. I know she does.’
‘Sometimes there are things about the people that we’re closest to that we only think we know,’ said Greg. ‘Like with you and Brendan.’
Dominique nodded slowly.
‘So what are you going to do?’ she asked.
‘I’ve moved out,’ he told her. ‘Got a place in town for the time being.’
She didn’t know what to say.
‘I’m meeting a solicitor this afternoon.’
She reached out and took him by the hand.
‘I’m very, very sorry,’ she said.
‘It’s ironic, isn’t it?’ His hand tightened around hers. ‘I thought I was being a support for you, but all I was doing was undermining my own marriage.’
Dominique said nothing.
‘And the worst part is that she isn’t entirely wrong. I do love you, Domino.’
‘Not the way she thinks,’ Dominique told him quickly. ‘You saw something in me that reminded you of someone else, and it’s always been there.’
He smiled faintly. ‘Perhaps. But I envied Brendan from the moment he brought you home.’
‘Greg, please ...’
He released her hand. ‘I’d do anything for you, you know that.’
‘You already have,’ she told him. ‘You gave me my life back all those years ago.’
‘So that Brendan could wreck it.’
‘No.’ She sat up straighter in her chair. ‘I’m not going to let that happen.’
He stared at her. ‘You’re strong, Domino. Stronger than me now.’
‘I’m not strong at all,’ she assured him. ‘But I’m damned if I’m going to be miserable for the rest of my life. And you shouldn’t be either, Greg Delahaye. You should try to save your marriage. But if you can’t do that, then you have to get on with things. That’s what I’m going to do. Well, what I’m trying to do, anyway.’
He laughed. And then looked up as Jennie Knight, a neighbour of Lily’s, stopped beside their table.
‘Glad to see you’re both well,’ said Jennie. ‘Glad to see that the Delahayes are looking after each other.’
She walked out of the café. Dominique groaned. It probably hadn’t been a good idea to meet Greg in a place where Cork county’s biggest gossip could bump into them. And get the wrong idea entirely.
Dominique knew that she’d have to speak to Emma, so she called over to Briarwood.
‘You know,’ said Emma as soon as she saw Dominique.
‘Yes.’
‘I knew he’d tell you. That’s why I didn’t bother myself. I guess there’s nothing about our relationship you don’t know.’
‘Plenty,’ Dominique said.
‘Oh, please.’ Emma shook her head. ‘I bet he tells you everything. He’s in love with you.’
‘Emma, I swear to you, even though he cares about me, there’s nothing between us that should ever worry you.’ Dominique put Greg’s own words out of her mind. He was only a little bit in love with her. And that was only because Emma wasn’t enough in love with him. ‘We never, ever talk about you and him.’
‘Don’t you?’ There was an extra edge to Emma’s voice, and Dominique looked at her curiously.
‘Of course not.’
‘I wonder why it is I don’t entirely believe you.’
‘Emma, I swear to you - if there’s some deep secret about your lives that you’re afraid Greg’s told me . . . he hasn’t!’ She raised her hands in despair. ‘I admit that we’re close. But he doesn’t tell me everything. And whatever feelings he has for me - whatever feelings I have for him too, when it comes to it - are perfectly innocent.’
‘What else can you say?’ demanded Emma.
‘It’s true,’ said Dominique. ‘What he feels for me is all tied up with that girl he was in love with years ago and the baby ...’ Her voice trailed off as Emma stared uncomprehendingly at her.
‘The baby?’ whispered Emma. ‘What baby?’
Dominique looked at her, horrified by what she’d just said. She’d totally forgotten that Emma knew nothing about Greg’s teenage love.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said shakily. ‘There
is
no baby, but he thought there was . . . There was a girl . . . It was ages ago, Emma, and—’
is
no baby, but he thought there was . . . There was a girl . . . It was ages ago, Emma, and—’
‘And whatever it is, you know about it but I don’t.’ Emma rubbed her head with her hands. ‘Now d’you see, Dominique? He tells you stuff he doesn’t tell me.’
Greg should have told her, thought Dominique. How could he expect his marriage to work when he was keeping such important secrets from his wife?
‘I haven’t seen him in a week.’ Emma sighed. ‘He said it was over and just disappeared. Family trait, obviously. When the going gets tough, the weak piss off without telling anyone. Well that’s fine, because I don’t care that he’s left. I just wish he’d had the decency to tell me whatever it was he told you.’ She rubbed the back of her neck. ‘When did you see him?’
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