The blast of a very loud car horn so startled the pair that they literally leapt apart. Whirling towards the kitchen, Frankie rushed towards the back door, saying over-brightly, “They’re here. At last. That’s just great.”
She chattered on as Dev slowly let his head fall back and he stared at the ceiling. Shit, shit, shit. You stupid fucking idiot, he admonished himself as he heard the car doors slam and the excited greetings being exchanged. Suck it up, boyo, and just deal with it. Dev slowly made his way out to join the others, but not before taking several very deep breaths and wishing he’d inhaled some of his dad’s whiskey.
“I can’t believe how fantastic the place looks!” Jo exclaimed as she gazed in delight about her. “Thanks, darling.” She took her sherry from Dev and then promptly tucked her free arm through Frankie’s as she wandered around the patio area oohing and aahing over the abundant flower beds and showy splashes of colour. “Everything’s so neat and tidy and I just love the pots you’ve planted. So summery and God knows, this old patio area needed it. Thank you so much, darling!”
Frankie hugged her back with equal enthusiasm and smiled as Patrick joined in with the praise. Caro and Toby were sprawled on the deck chairs grinning with delight at how lovely everything was and quite happily sipping their various drinks.
Dev leaned against Toby’s chair wearing a pair of sunglasses that he’d grabbed in the kitchen on the way through. He knew his mother very well and her radar where her offspring were concerned was always on high alert. He knew he must be looking shell-shocked because that was exactly how he felt.
He took a sip of his whiskey and wished to God he was anywhere but here. Tilting his head back to face the evening sun, he closed his eyes behind his glasses and continued his silent cursing at himself. He felt as if everything was starting to fall apart. What had he been thinking? Leaning in for a kiss, the sight of that full lower lip – Christ! It wasn’t with his brain, anyway . . .
“Dev, hey, Dev? Are you asleep there?” Caro reached over and tapped him repeatedly on his arm. She laughed as he jumped and splashed drink on his shirt.
“Shit!” he cursed and then, catching Toby’s cocked eyebrow, swiftly apologised. “Sorry, Caro. Was just, eh, thinking about, eh, my exhibition,” Dev muttered.
He strolled over to Patrick and began asking questions about the drive down, doing his best to avoid catching the eye of either Frankie or his mum. Caro and Toby exchanged shrugs and continued to sip their drinks and nibble on the snacks laid out on the side tables. Jo announced that she was famished and began the process of getting the food organised. Frankie, dying to be the one to treat the Fitzgeralds, galvanised into action and without thinking, dragged Dev by the arm and shoved him towards the grill with swift orders to get cooking.
The tempting aroma of meat grilling soon filled the evening air and the salads and breads were brought from the kitchen. All the grown-ups switched to red wine and Toby was given the task of pouring the deep maroon liquid into the balloon glasses and handing them out. He and Dev had a bit of a laugh when Dev dared Toby to sample the wine. Toby did and made such a funny twisted face that showed his distaste so adequately that everyone joined in the laughter.
Frankie caught Dev’s eye and smiled. He toasted her with his glass and smiled back. Phew, she thought, things are back to normal. Whatever normal was.
Dinner was a festive affair. All the news from Dublin exchanged for the Clifden gossip interspersed with family catch-up. The meal itself was a great success, with Patrick declaring it was the best steak he’d ever eaten. Since he was generally very fulsome in his comments, nobody paid him much attention.
Jo had taken a trip upstairs and was delighted the bed was made up, commenting several times on the sparkling-clean house, fresh bed linen and sweet-smelling towels. They took it in turns teasing Frankie about her housekeeping prowess and pretty soon Patrick suggested a game of Scrabble.
“No!” both Frankie and Dev instantly declared.
They hadn’t played since those first few nights and it seemed wrong, somehow, to play again, as if the easiness of that time was theirs alone. The sudden quiet following the outburst was charged. Jo and Patrick exchanged looks, Caro and Toby shrugged their respective shoulders and the pair in question looked anywhere but at each other.
“Okay,” Jo said. “We don’t have to play tonight. In fact, I’m pretty worn out, so Patrick and I are going to turn in.”
She pulled her husband’s arm as she spoke and, much to his bemusement, began to herd him towards the kitchen. Caro began gathering plates and bowls and nudged Toby into helping.
“Goodnight, all,” Jo sang as she and Patrick headed upstairs.
Caro and Toby took dishwashing duty and insisted Dev and Frankie stayed seated in the garden with a brandy each. Once again, Toby played barman and Frankie smiled as she took hers from him.
“You are a sweetheart, Toby, but you’ll have to watch it that we don’t turn you into a waiter instead of a chef.”
Toby cheerily replied that he didn’t mind at all and that it was all part of the training. He bade them goodnight and he’d barely closed the door behind him, when Frankie leaned towards Dev.
“He’s an awesome kid, isn’t he? God, I’d love to be his mom.”
Dev looked at her quizzically. “You want kids?”
“Absolutely. I think it’s got to be the most rewarding job in the world.”
“And the most demanding, frustrating and tiring, too, I’d imagine.” Dev’s tone was cynical and derisive.
“Dev! How can you say that? Toby’s amazing. I bet Caro doesn’t care about all that or all the hard work. She’s devoted to him and has raised him all alone.”
“Actually,” he contradicted, “she hasn’t raised him alone. Every one of us has helped out and done our part since he was an infant. He may not have a dad in his life, as such, but he hasn’t lacked family.”
“Whoa! Jeez, you’re touchy. Do you resent having played a part in his upbringing? Or do you feel Caro was wrong to have kept him?”
“No on both counts. I have the utmost admiration for what Caro has done and feel genuinely privileged to have a part in Toby’s life. I suppose I just feel angry that his father is nowhere to be found and believe me, I know several other shitbags who’ve abandoned their kids, too. It doesn’t exactly make me proud of my sex to see so much neglect and such a casual attitude to parenthood.” He swirled the liquid in his glass and looked at Frankie. “Sorry I came on so strong there – it’s just a touchy subject sometimes.
“We all tried to get Caro to tell us who Toby’s dad is but Mum finally made us back off and leave her alone. I think Flynn and I would have beat the shit out of him had we found him back then. Caro, of course, remained dignified throughout all the wrangling and still refused to say anything. Even at the tender age of eighteen she was stubborn. She’s amazing, my sister.”
“Yes, she is. She was one of the reasons I was going to marry Stephen, you know.”
“Caro? How could she be a reason you’d marry anyone?” Dev leaned forwards in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, the glass cupped between his fingers.
“What I mean is, her happiness at being a mom made me want that kind of satisfaction too, and I thought Stephen would be a good dad as he comes from a nice stable family.”
“So what, you chose him based on his parenting potential? That’s just plain stupid! Jesus, Frankie! What kind of idiotic thing is that?” Dev looked at her incredulously. “I mean, surely you decide to marry someone because they’re your whole life and you simply can’t imagine growing old without that person. You get married to them because you’re complete when you’re together and can’t wait to tell them all your thoughts, your dreams. You get married to someone because you want, more than anything else, to wake up with that person each morning and go to sleep with them at night.” He surged out of the chair and was pacing the patio as he spoke. “You marry someone because you love them with your whole heart and
soul, and their happiness and well-being means more to you than your own.” Dev stopped next to Frankie’s chair and, hunkering down, he put his glass on the ground and looked straight into her eyes. “You marry someone because you love her so much she’s your life and not being married to her is just about the loneliest place on earth.”
Frankie’s lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears. Trying for a lightness she was far from feeling, she said, “So how come you’re still single? You seem to have given this a lot of thought.”
Wiping away an escaped tear sliding down her cheek, he whispered, “Yeah, I’ve given it some thought.” He leaned in and, soft as thistledown, laid his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. He pulled back and, still looking into her shocked eyes, placed his hands on either side of her face then kissed her again – several small kisses, one after another, each with slightly more pressure than the last.
Frankie was transfixed. She couldn’t move as a hundred sensations sped through her body and only a gasp escaped her. “Dev . . . No, Dev . . .”
“Shh.”
Once more his lips touched hers, moving softly against them in a delicate pressure, sending darts of pleasure down to her stomach. A burst of laughter from an open upstairs window startled Frankie back to her senses. Urgently, she pushed against Dev’s shoulders, breaking contact between them.
“No, Dev, please stop this. This isn’t right . . .”
Dev stood up abruptly, knocking the glass over, spilling the last few drops of brandy. “Apologies. You’re right about me – I have thought about it,” he repeated. “And I won’t ever be getting married. Now, I’ll leave you alone then, will I, so you can think about Stephen? Think about the kind of parent he’d have made.
“Maybe you should think long and hard about why anyone would want to marry you based on the criteria you have set for yourself. Christ, I . . . Jesus, never mind. I hope you get the damn sperm donor you deserve!” Dev’s furious tone matched the hard look on his face as he strode off down the garden, slamming the gate behind him.
Frankie dropped her face into her trembling hands. Oh, dear God.
She was stunned. Everything he’d said about marriage, everything, was so beautiful, so exactly what she’d want to feel herself, want her husband to feel for her, that she was astounded. Why had she mentioned Stephen? Poor Stephen. Poor, innocent Stephen. If only Dev knew how she really felt, what she’d done. And why on God’s earth had he kissed her so tenderly, so sweetly? And much, much more worrying, why was her stomach still jumping like a grasshopper on speed?
Chapter 6
The cold light of day is a great leveller. Everything that feels tense or emotional in the dark of night gets a fresh, clean airing in the morning. Frankie thought about all that had happened between Dev and her the previous night and decided the wine and brandy had a serious amount to answer for. She conveniently forgot the moment at the bottom of the stairs before any alcohol had been consumed.
It was all nothing, really.
She’d been vulnerable because she’d brought up the subject of Stephen and was obviously still missing him. Dev was way out of line regarding the baby issue – she’d never considered Stephen merely as a sperm donor. What nonsense! She’d simply seen his potential as a father.
Was there something wrong with that?
Of course not.
Frankie busied herself with her morning routine, stretching her muscles in preparation for her new challenge of a longer morning run, pulling on her old shorts and lacing her sneakers. Muttering under her breath, she descended the stairs as quietly as possible so as not to wake the Fitzgerald clan.
She closed the door gently behind her and, walking briskly down the long driveway, the gravel crunching underfoot, she swung her arms in circles to increase her heart rate in preparation for kicking up some speed. Usually she zoned out as her pace increased, using the miles to let her mind drift and her thoughts wander.
This morning was a disaster – one mile into her usual three, Frankie slowed to a walk as she became aware that her brow was furrowed and her shoulders still tense. Blast the man! Her thoughts continually returned to Dev, his intent look as he took her face gently into his hands, his touch, so sweet and tender but hinting at passion. No! This was all wrong. He was practically her brother, for God’s sake, and she’d always relied on him to be the one who centred her. Now, he was throwing her off-centre completely.
What did it all mean? It must, she believed, have been the brandy talking for him, too, as Dev had never shown any interest in her before. Well, certainly not before this trip. Well, other than in the old days when they went on long walks and talked non-stop about . . . well, everything. And besides the fact that he was the one who showed the most interest in her career. And he was the one who sent flowers. But, truthfully, she’d never felt that frisson of electricity when he touched her before. Had she even noticed when he touched her before? Had he touched her before?
As Frankie gave up the ghost on her outing and turned to stroll home, her brain seemed to whiz through years of moments with Dev. All the little moments when it had been just the two of them. Had he been interested in her in that particular way? Frankie couldn’t honestly say. And did she want it to be true? Hell, no! She needed Dev to be just as he always was without all this new weird stuff.
As she rounded the gateway, she felt calmer and relieved that all that was figured out and she’d tell him so just as soon as she saw him.
Jo and Patrick were busy in the kitchen, when Caro and Toby strolled in looking for food.
“Morning, slugabeds.” Patrick handed Toby the cereal box as he poured coffee for his eldest daughter.
“Thanks,” mother and son answered in unison as they pulled out chairs at the table and helped themselves to a late breakfast.
“What is it about this place that makes me so sleepy?” Toby enquired to no one in particular. “I had wanted to go on a photo shoot with Dev this morning and I bet he’s already left.” He looked at his grandma for confirmation.
“I don’t know, pet. I haven’t heard a sound from either Francesca or Devlin, so your guess is as good as mine.” She passed him some wholewheat toast and the spoon for the marmalade. “Oh, speak of the devil.” She turned as the hall door opened and Dev walked in.
Without a word, her son reached for the coffee and leaned against the kitchen sink, his torso blocking out the light pouring in the window, as he sipped the strong brew. “I’ll probably head back to Dublin this morning and leave you to the peace and quiet,” he told the family.
“Aw, Dev. No, that’s not fair,” protested Toby. “You promised to take me to the island today to take photographs.” His toast halfway to his mouth, he gestured in the vague direction of the small parcel of land.
Dev briefly closed his eyes. Damn. He hated to let the kid down. But could he stay now that he’d so completely screwed up his relationship with Frankie? Hopefully, she’d just ignore the whole incident or, better still, pretend it never happened.
“Sorry, Tobes. Look, give me an hour or so and I’ll let you know if I can stay on for a bit. I’ll just check my emails and see how much in demand I am.” He ruffled Toby’s hair before crossing the kitchen to the den in search of his laptop.
About bloody time he checked his mail. He really was dreadful at keeping up on the business side of things. Thank God he had a decent agent who, although Dev swore at him fluently and at length for constantly being on his case, believed in his artist and pushed his work to be seen by the best. His computer up and running, Dev logged in and began scrolling through his pile of correspondence.
His shoulders stiffened as he heard Frankie’s bright tone chatting in the kitchen. He misspelt several words in a row on one of his replies as her laughter joined in with Toby and Patrick. He groaned when Frankie swung open the door of the den and halted in shock when she realised he was ensconced there.
“Hey there. Sorry, I didn’t realise the den was in use. I was just going to . . . oh, a
ctually, I was just going to do exactly what you’re doing and check my mail.” Frankie realised she was babbling but Dev just grunted and kept on typing.
Fine. Okay. If that’s the way he wants to play it! I can play along with that scenario, no problemo. She unearthed her own laptop from beneath the desk and concentrated on setting it up.
“Let me know when you’re done so I can log on to the internet, too.”
“Go ahead. Nice MacBook, by the way. We have fairly decent broadband here so work away.”
He kept on typing and as he was ignoring her so thoroughly, she childishly stuck out her tongue at him as she wielded the cables to charge her low battery.
“Don’t be such a kid.” He looked at her over his screen with a quirk of his mouth as she glared at him in bafflement.
An answering smile tugged at her own lips and she lowered her eyes so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her relief.
“Hey, baby,” Dev spoke quietly as he tapped on the keyboard. “I’m sorry about last night. I was completely off base and should have kept my thoughts to myself.” He caught her eye and was surprised to see a faint blush on her cheeks. “Are we okay?”
“Let’s just, um, forget what happened. Please. I’d rather not talk about it.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Okay then. Fine.”
“Fine.”
Frankie hated the fact that she felt her throat tighten and her eyes blur. So that’s it, then. We’re back to normal, just as I wanted. It obviously meant nothing, him kissing me. Just a friendly peck. She scanned through the packed contents of her inbox. Damn. It wasn’t a friendly peck. It was a real kiss, and why am I still . . .
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh my God!” she staggered back from her Mac, overturning her chair as her hands flew to her gaping mouth in shock.
Dev leapt from his seat and was beside her in a flash. “What? What is it? What’s the matter?” He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into his embrace. Encircling her. Keeping her safe from . . .
Family Affairs Page 7
