by A. O'Connor
“I haven’t told Nico yet.”
“I wonder how he’ll take it?”
“Our daughter Alex was always singing your praises when she met you,” said Susan. “Thank you for being so kind to her.”
“It was no trouble. She’s lovely . . . like her father. Some woman will be very lucky to have Nico.”
Susan looked at her, suddenly aware. “Yes, she will . . . I hope he finds what he’s looking for someday. Why don’t you ring him up now you’re back in Ireland? I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear from you.”
“Just tell him I was asking after him when you speak to him next.”
Alex was on her school holidays and Nico was driving them down to Armstrong House to spend the vacation there. It was the first time Alex had been at the house since he’d bought it, and he was excited about showing it to her. Since buying the house he hadn’t spent that much time there. He had been too busy in Dublin, working hard on the architect business.
Alex was now fifteen and as she wisecracked all the way down he couldn’t help but marvel at how grown-up she had become.
“Well – what do you think?” Nico asked as he put on the kettle in the kitchen to make them a cup of tea.
She sat up at the island. “I feel sorry for the Fallons,” she said. “All the work they put into this place, only to lose it.”
“I’d say that was the least of their problems.”
“Kate Fallon is back in the country.”
“Is she?” Nico was surprised.
“Yep – Mum interviewed her for the newspaper.”
“Really?” Nico was shocked.
“Yes – she’s making some film on location here. You were really friendly with her, weren’t you?”
“We – knew each other well, yes.”
“I remember her being very nice.”
“Well, she’s a very nice woman.”
“She goes by her acting name Kate Donovan again now.”
“Does she?”
“Well, I suppose there’s too much negativity attached to the Fallon name after everything that happened.”
“You read too many newspapers, Alex.”
“Mum said all Kate did was talk about you, singing your praises.”
“Did she really?” Nico was surprised.
“She must miss this house terribly.”
“I don’t know if all her memories here were good ones.”
“Mum really liked her. Said she was very interesting.”
“Kate is a very remarkable woman. I learned a lot about this house from her. I always took it and our family history for granted. But she didn’t. She was intrigued by it all . . . Now I’m more aware. Generations of our family lived here and now, one day, it will be yours as well – and you’ll keep the family line going here.”
“Such a big responsibility for my little shoulders,” she sighed dramatically.
“You’ll understand it one day,” he said, putting the tea in front of her and sitting opposite her.
“Dad – I’ve something to tell you . . . Mum’s getting married again.”
“Oh!” He was shocked.
“To an editor at the paper.”
“Right!”
“He’s very nice, and she’s very happy. And I really like him.”
“Well, I suppose that’s the main thing!” He nodded.
“Mum’s going to phone you this week to tell you herself. But I thought I’d tip you off.”
“Very thoughtful of you.”
“So what are you going to do now?” she quizzed.
He looked startled. “About Mum?”
“No, with your life!”
“What do you mean – what am I going to do now? Nothing!”
“Hmmm, I was afraid of that. The fact is I don’t think you’ve really moved on from the marriage. I think you felt the bond was still there, through me and everything.”
“Is that a fact?” he said sarcastically.
“And I suppose you’re both so fond of each other, you might have even thought you might get back together again one day.”
“That’s rubbish, Alex – you don’t know anything about it.” Nico was getting annoyed.
“Anyway, I think you need to get on with your life.”
“When I need advice from you, Alex, I’ll ask for it.”
“Well, I mean, what are you going to do with the rest of your life? Spend it rattling around this house all on your own?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Well, maybe you should.”
“Thank you! Now what do you want to do this evening?”
“Kate’s very cool. All my friends love her. They couldn’t believe it when I told them you were friends with her.”
“I used to be a friend of hers, Alex. I don’t know her any more.”
“Well – you could change that. She’s at the same phone number incidentally.”
“Alex –”
“No need to say another word! By the way, Mum wants you to attend her wedding.”
“Great! I really can’t wait for that day!” said Nico sarcastically.
108
Alex walked down the aisle after the bride. The church was filled with guests. She saw her father and smiled at him. He smiled back at her. Alex had been worried he might become emotional on the day, but he seemed happy.
The bride reached the top of the aisle and Alex quickly got to her post, straightening out the bride’s long wedding train. The groom winked at his bride and took his position beside her.
“You’re all very welcome here today,” began the priest, “to celebrate the marriage of Kate and Nico.”
“It’s not too late to back out,” Nico whispered to Kate as the priest continued.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I never believe in walking off until a scene is finished,” Kate whispered back and squeezed his hand.
In the congregation two of the guests were having a whispered conversation.
“Let’s hope this husband has a luckier time of it than her last one,” said one of the women.
“They seem in love though,” said the other woman.
“Don’t forget she’s an actress by profession! I think it’s a rebound job myself. Him getting over the ex-wife remarrying and her getting over Tony’s death. I mean they’ve only known each other five minutes.”
“No – he’s known Kate for years. He renovated the house for herself and Tony.”
“Well, I don’t know – the ownership of that house has been passed back and forth between the two of them like a game of tennis – and now they are both ending up living in it together! Deuce! It’s more a love affair with the house than each other, if you ask me. Neither could bear to leave it!”
The priest pronounced them husband and wife and Nico leaned forward and kissed Kate. They made their way down the aisle quickly and confetti was thrown as they left the small church in the little village near Armstrong House.
Outside, the wedding party was gathered in the sunshine as Kate and Nico accepted congratulations and posed for photos.
“Well, I have to hand it to Kate – you could shove her in a tub of shit and she’d still come up smelling of roses!” said one male guest to another outside the church.
“What do you mean?” asked the other man.
“Well, let’s face it – a couple of years ago she’d lost her Tony, lost her house, lost her career and owed millions. Now look at her – she somehow managed to weasel out of all that debt, her career is back on track, married to a lovely new husband, and even got her house back!”
“Ah well, Kate’s been through a terrible time with everything. It would have broken a lesser person. She deserves a bit of happiness now. And besides she’s changed a lot. She doesn’t go to premieres and parties any more. She told me she was happy just being with Nico here at home in the house.”
The two men looked at Alex as she moved from guest to guest, chatting happily.
&n
bsp; “Nico’s daughter seems to be quite a character.”
“Ah,” said the other man smiling, “my family have known the Armstrongs for generations. Alex’s surname might be Collins, but she’s an Armstrong through and through. Come on, it looks like we’re off back to the house for the reception.”
Kate and Nico’s car led the caravan of vehicles around by the lake and up to the house. As their car stopped, they both got out and the photographer arranged them in a pose in front of the house.
Nico started laughing. “I was just thinking of a wedding I was at recently and somebody commented the bride was something new, to the groom, something old due to her advancing age, something borrowed as she had been married to the groom’s best friend previously, and something blue – she had a rather morose nature!”
Kate started laughing with him. “I never thought about that when I was getting ready.” She touched Clara’s brooch she was wearing. “I suppose this brooch fills all the requirements for the day too – something new, to me . . . something old . . . and something borrowed, from Clara . . . and something blue, a relic from an unhappy marriage. But now it’s going to be a symbol of a happy one.”
And as the other guests arrived, Nico and Kate led them up the red carpet through the front door and into the house.
Epilogue
1940
Pierce and his wife Joan walked out on to the airfield at Dublin airport where the small passenger plane was waiting. Joan was holding their twelve-month-old daughter Jacqueline. He was dressed in his officer’s uniform. It felt strange but somehow right to be back in uniform.
“I don’t know why you have to go to this war,” Joan said in a final protest. “You’ve done your part in the last war. This isn’t your fight, it’s the next generation’s. And Ireland is neutral and isn’t even in the war!”
“I’ve told you before, I have invaluable experience to offer them,” he said.
If the truth be known, Pierce was excited by the prospect. It was as if he had been waiting for the last twenty years for this to happen again. He had spent nearly two decades pen-pushing at the British embassy in Dublin. Twenty years seeing his role in life ebbing away. No longer a respected peer in this new country. His beloved house in the country practically destroyed. His looks gradually fading, and the attention they brought and which he took for granted lost. Years of thinking about the past and what had gone wrong. And then he had met Joan at a ball two years ago. She was the daughter of a Dublin businessman and a renowned beauty. There was a restlessness about her that night as if she was searching for something in the same way Clara had been the night he had met her. And when they were introduced, it was like she had found what she was looking for in Pierce. She reminded him so much of Clara. And it was like he was being given his youth back, another chance. And with the war approaching, it was as if time was repeating itself.
Joan was determined not to cry. She knew Pierce hated scenes and tears. Everyone told her she was mad for marrying Pierce Armstrong. They said he was cold and selfish. And he was all those things, she had to admit. But with her, he struggled to be something else as well. Often not succeeding, but he did try.
“I’ve been to the solicitor and everything is taken care of if anything happens to me,” he said.
“Pierce, don’t!” pleaded Joan.
“Yourself and Jacqueline will be looked after, everything goes to you. Such as it is, mainly the house in the country and what’s left of the farm. You can call on Prudence if you need anything.”
Joan pulled a face. “I’d rather not!”
He stared at her and then managed to smile and bent forward and kissed her.
“Will you phone me when you arrive in London later?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Will you be home for Christmas?” she asked.
He thought of the rude response he had given Clara when she asked that in the last war. He nodded and said, “I’ll try.”
He kissed her again and then Jacqueline before quickly walking up the steps and into the plane. He took his seat by the window and looked out at his wife and child on the airfield, waving. He smiled at them and waved back as the plane’s propellers started and the plane began to taxi down the airstrip. He would be stationed a few days in London and then next week he would be in France on active duty trying to stop the German advance. Life had given him a second chance.
Clara held the envelope nervously, looking at the neatly typed address on the front. She looked at her watch and saw it was nearly two in the afternoon. Slipping the envelope into the pocket of her cardigan, she walked over to the mirror in the sitting room and smoothed down her pale silvery-blonde hair, and checked her appearance. Her visitor was now nearly an hour late and she anxiously looked out the window down the parklands of the country house in Kent she had inherited from her grandmother, Louisa.
She picked up the newspaper on the coffee table with headlines about the war, and leafed through the pages. She stopped when she found the photo of Pierce with his young wife and a baby girl in the society pages and read the caption underneath: ‘Lord Armstrong with his wife Joan and their daughter Jacqueline’.
As she heard a car approach, she folded over the newspaper. She went quickly to the front door, opened it and rushed to the man who approached her, smiling, and enveloped him in a hug.
“You look younger every day,” he said happily as they went into the sitting room.
“Everyone says you have become a charmer, but choose your audiences more carefully. I’m immune to flattery!” she said grinning, as they both sat down on the couch and she took the hand of her eighteen-year-old son James.
“Nobody is immune to flattery,” he said, grinning back.
“How were your final exams?”
“Not too bad. I think I scraped by.”
She reached into her pocket, took out the letter and nervously handed it over to him. “This arrived for you in this morning’s post.”
“I know what this is,” he said and he looked at her worried expression before adding, “And so do you.”
She nodded and he quickly tore it open and read the letter inside, before looking at her and smiling. “The Royal College of Surgeons . . . accept me as a student!”
“James!” Clara hugged him tightly. “I’ve been that worried all morning, such a relief!” She shook her head in delight. “You’ll make an excellent doctor, just like my brothers.”
He folded the letter away into the envelope. “It might have to be delayed with the war. I might be drafted.”
“Oh James, don’t say that!” All Clara’s horrible memories of the last war were haunting her since this new war had started. “You’re far more use as a medic in the war than a soldier. Much better to try and save lives,” she said imploringly.
“We’ll see,” he said.
“James . . . I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. It’s about your father.”
His face clouded over. “What about him?”
“Pierce has married again and they have a baby daughter.”
“So?” He looked disinterested.
“So now you’re an adult, it’s your choice if you want to make yourself known to him. You know why I did what I did, why I kept you away from him. But now you’re old enough to make your own decisions. If you want to make contact with him and claim your legacy, I won’t blame you for it.”
“My legacy?”
“You are the rightful Lord Armstrong, heir to the house and land in Ireland. I don’t want you to regret it in years to come.”
“I won’t regret it. I don’t want the title or that house. You made the right decision all those years back, the only decision. And I stick by what you did.” He reached out and took her hand. “His life was the poorer for not having us in it.”
“Aren’t you even – curious?”
He looked at her, thinking of the terrible times she had suffered in her marriage and how brave she was rearing him on her own when she had retur
ned to London and discovered she was pregnant.
“Not in the least. This is my life, the only one I’ve known, and the only one I want,” confirmed James.
She squeezed his hand tightly. “I’d hoped you would say that.”
“I don’t want to invite my father back into our lives after you went to such great lengths keeping me a secret from him.”
“I had no choice . . . Pierce was very damaged. He was a bad husband and he would have made a terrible father. And I knew he would have fought to take you from me.”
“I know, and you were very brave all these years bringing me up on your own.”
“I loved every minute of it. Besides, I had a lot of help from my family, they closed rank around me. Especially my grandmother. Sometimes it was hard to believe, but I was always Louisa’s favourite.”
