Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars

by Jean Grainger

  ‘Well, the reason I agreed was we have a mutual connection. Your mother and I.’ He smiled, that enigmatic smile again.

  ‘Who?’ Hugo asked.

  ‘Piers FitzHenry, your uncle, I believe.’

  Hugo was confused, his uncle, the one banished to France by the family because of his unnatural tendencies, knew d’Alton?

  ‘Yes, he’s my father’s brother. My father kept in touch when he was alive. I never knew Mama kept in touch. I met him once or twice as a child…’

  ‘He said he met you at Ascot and again at some family function in Derbyshire, I think he told me, but you were younger. When I refused the case initially, nothing personal, but it doesn’t really work for me to be in Cork, I’m afraid of having my cover blown.’ He grinned. ‘But when Lily rang and explained that you were not just her son but also Piers’s nephew, well, she asked me to help you if I could. So I did.’

  ‘I don’t remember him, not really. Do you know why he left?’ Hugo asked cautiously.

  ‘I do. It’s one of the reasons I also live in France.’ Time seemed to slow down as the weight of what d’Alton had said settled between them. Suddenly, several thoughts struck Hugo at once. The foremost being of course that d’Alton was homosexual.

  ‘So, that’s how you knew the juror was…’ Hugo said in wonder.

  ‘I suppose I’m more finely tuned to these things.’ He chuckled and watched for Hugo to react to the acknowledgment.

  Another thought struck Hugo.

  ‘Are you and Piers…?’ he tried to keep the dread out of his voice.

  D’Alton laughed aloud. ‘God no! I know that to you at forty-three I must seem ancient, but he’s too old even for me! The grey hair makes me look older, I know. I went grey very young most fortuitously, it fits with the image. No, Piers is just a friend, but he is a thoroughly nice chap, and I know he’d love to meet you again. Your father told him a lot about you and he always hoped that you would make contact, but he doesn’t want to initiate it for fear of how you’d react, I suppose.’

  ‘I planned to when all this was over, maybe even visit…’ Hugo said. It was a nice thought that he had an uncle who wanted to get to know him.

  ‘Well, I know he’d love that.’

  A silence descended between them as Hugo tried to process what was happening.

  Despite all the thoughts and misery and wishing and praying, he’d never considered what he would do when he met another man like himself, and now, when he least expected it, he was having dinner in Greyrock with not only a homosexual man, but an incredibly attractive one who knew his uncle. There was a bizarre but wonderful symmetry to it.

  ‘Is it, you know, in France, possible to…em…?’ Hugo wanted to sound urbane and worldly, but he knew he sounded like a little boy.

  ‘Well, homosexuality is illegal, no two ways about that, but the French have a different attitude towards sex in general and tend to turn a blind eye to all misdemeanours in that regard so long as you don’t flaunt it. It’s quite acceptable, for example for men, and for women too in some cases, to have affairs. Everybody knows it, but it’s never admitted. It’s kind of the same with us, there are certain places we go, bars and clubs, where so long as you are discreet, you can meet people and take it from there.’

  ‘I’m...’ Hugo said. Though he knew d’Alton probably guessed that he wanted to say the words but failed.

  ‘I know.’ D’Alton smiled.

  ‘But I’ve never, I wanted to…well, I didn’t know what I wanted, actually. Mostly for me not to be this way, I suppose.’ Hugo smiled sadly.

  ‘We’ve all been there, Hugo, believe me. Why do you think I worked so hard for as long as I can remember? I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I knew I had to get away. There was no way I could get married and take over the farm and have a load of kids as would have been expected of me, so I just studied day and night, literally for years, to find a way out. And I did, get out, I mean. It’s harder on you, though, the responsibility of this place, the legacy…’

  To his horror, Hugo felt tears sting the back of his eyes. Patrick and Liam had been kind and Martha was too, in her own way, but nobody ever understood before, really knew what it was like to feel so outside, so different.

  ‘I can’t imagine it being…I…when I was at school…there was a priest…he used to come into the room…’ Hugo allowed the suppressed feelings of shame, despair, and horror to bubble to the surface. The words flowed from him like a torrent, the pain, the terror, the disgust. Words he had never told another soul were tumbling over themselves as he unburdened himself of the sickening weight he’d carried for years.

  ‘I don’t know why he picked me, he must have known…’ Hugo finished, trying to catch his breath.

  D’Alton put his hands on Hugo’s shoulders, his piercing eyes boring into Hugo’s own.

  ‘Listen to me, Hugo. That was not your fault, that man was, is, a criminal, a paedophile. He would have done that irrespective of what sexual orientation you were. He is the one in the wrong, not you. You were a child; you should have been protected not preyed upon. It was not your fault, do you hear me, none of that was your fault.’ He drew Hugo to his chest and held him tightly. Hugo felt drained but relieved.

  ‘Maybe you’re right, but either way, I’m such a failure. If I were an ordinary person, this would be hard to bear, but for me, I will be the last of the FitzHenry line, and I can’t bear it. We’ve been here in this house for centuries, literally for hundreds of years a FitzHenry has been the Earl of Drummond. It doesn’t mean much anymore, to anyone outside. I mean Ireland is a republic, for goodness sake. From their perspective, it’s a title awarded by a foreign king and all that, and I have no desire to lord it over anyone, but to let the title die with me, to sell this house, I just can’t bear the thought. I walk down the halls and feel my ancestors’ eyes on me, the disgust, the disappointment...’

  Quickly, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

  He cried and cried, and the other man just rubbed his back and soothed him, kissing his head and allowing him to sob.

  ‘It’s all right, Hugo, it’s all right. You are not alone. I promise you, you’ll never feel this alone again for the rest of your life. The estate is a huge responsibility, and I understand your attachment to it and the weight of history on your shoulders, but you can’t change who you are. We’ve all been where you are now, I see so much of myself in you. I remember the pain, the sheer bloody terror, the shame and guilt, the self-loathing, but they’re wrong. The church, the state, the courts, they’re all wrong. We’re not unnatural, we’re not disgraceful, we are not the things they say we are. We are people, men and women, who are just…I don’t know, wired differently or something. Not wrong, just different.’ D’Alton wiped Hugo’s tears with the pads of his thumbs and hugged him tightly. Hugo wanted to stay in the safety of that hug forever, to never have to leave this room, to never have to return to a world where he was a freak of nature, an aberration, a failure.

  A log sputtered in the fire, and the sound drew him back to the present. Patterson could walk in at any time, and Hugo couldn’t begin to imagine his reaction to the master of the house sobbing in the arms of a house guest.

  Reading his mind d’Alton said,

  ‘Hugo, I’m much older and much more experienced than you in most walks of life, but I haven’t forgotten what it feels like to be so alone, so conflicted. Okay, I didn’t have a big estate and a title into the bargain, that’s an added strain no doubt, but I’m glad we had this time together, and I meant what I said, life can be good, fun even sometimes, when you’re like us, but you must be careful—very, very, careful. Go and visit your uncle, maybe even look me up when you come over, we could go out to dinner. I could introduce you to some young chaps I know.’ He winked and smiled, and Hugo’s heart skipped a beat. Disentangling himself from the hug, he sighed deeply.

  ‘Now, we need to be back in Cork in the morning, so I sugg
est we get some sleep. My flight is booked for nine thirty. Your valet very kindly allowed me to use the telephone so I’ve told Archie where I am, he worries. We’ll need to be on the road by seven, so up at six. And I need to put my mask back on.’ He smiled again. ‘Goodnight, Hugo.’ He kissed his head once more and left the room.

  Hugo fought the overwhelming urge to drag him back, to kiss him, to never let him go again. But he realised he would only embarrass himself. D’Alton was certainly nothing like the man Hugo and the others imagined him to be, he was the complete opposite. He was kind and funny and gentle and very ordinary, really. The whole thing was an act, but nobody could ever know that. He wasn’t going to be interested in an inexperienced kid. All the electricity he felt when d’Alton touched him was one-sided. D’Alton was a kind man, who made Hugo feel normal for the first time in his life. If this was going to be the future, falling for every man he met, then he had a ridiculous life ahead of him. He chided himself once more, trying to force himself to think clearly. That night, he lay awake, knowing d’Alton was sleeping down the hall and wishing more than anything that he was lying beside him.

  The following morning, they left before breakfast in order to get back to Cork.

  ‘How are you?’ d’Alton asked in the car as they drove down the avenue.

  ‘Fine thanks.’ Hugo was business-like, friendly but not needy. Inside he was crushed that d’Alton was leaving again.

  D’Alton nodded. ‘Did you sleep?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ Hugo lied. He supposed the last thing d’Alton wanted was a kid mooning over him, so he started telling him about the horses and the breeding programme they were running.

  They stopped at a roadside café and got a quick breakfast. The conversation was sparse, both men were lost in their thoughts. The easiness and trust of the night before had evaporated in the cold early morning. It was as if d’Alton had put back on his armour, and Hugo couldn’t reach him. All night, he thought about the confidences they shared after the revelation that he was homosexual. The fact that d’Alton was from Cork was the most surprising, he seemed so sophisticated and worldly, yet when he spoke of his childhood home last night something changed in him. He looked younger, more vulnerable, somehow. He had clearly loved his family and his home, but he was exiled because of who he was, self-imposed exile, admittedly, but exile nonetheless. He told Hugo about his sister Jennifer and her three children who lived in London with her English husband. He visited them often, and he could tell they were close.

  For Hugo, it was a torturous drive. As well as being worried about the outcome for Patrick, he felt guilty how about how much he longed to ask d’Alton if they could see each other sometime, but he hadn’t the courage. Clearly, he wasn’t interested, why would he be? The thought that d’Alton would be gone from his life forever filled him with despair. He had said last night that maybe they could meet in France, have dinner, but that was probably just something he said to make him feel better.

  ‘Hugo, could you take the next left turn please?’ D’Alton’s voice broke through the silence as they were approaching the city from the east. His voice startled Hugo as he snapped out of his thoughts.

  ‘Okay, of course, is there something you want to see?’ Hugo asked.

  ‘Sort of, my parents’ house where I grew up is down here. They are both dead now, as I said, but the place was sold a few years ago since neither Jennifer nor I wanted it. I don’t know who lives there now. My memories of this place are mixed, not because of my parents, they were lovely people, they made so many sacrifices for me, but I never fitted in.’

  Hugo drove on in silence.

  ‘Just right here at this small junction.’

  Hugo found himself driving down a narrow road with grass growing up the middle.

  ‘You can pull in here at the wide bit; we need to walk from here.’

  Hugo sat in the car, wondering where d’Alton was going and wondering if he should go with him when there was a sharp rap on the glass.

  ‘Well, are you coming?’

  Hugo unbuckled and followed d’Alton into a wooded area. It was freezing cold, and they could see their breath on the November air. The frost glistened white all around but once they were under the canopy of evergreen trees, not a sound could be heard. They walked on for ten minutes, getting deeper and deeper into the woods. Hugo followed d’Alton’s footsteps, just a few paces behind. The only sound was of their labouring breath as the ground rose steeply. The gnarled roots made it difficult underfoot, and Hugo wished he was wearing more suitable shoes than his polished leather brogues. As they reached what looked like the brow of a hill, the ground fell away sharply and they clambered down. Hugo lost his footing, and d’Alton put out his hand to steady him. The moment their hands touched, Hugo felt a crackle of electricity.

  Where were they going? The Scotch pine stretched upwards to the gunmetal grey sky. Even though it must have been around eight in the morning, it was still only barely light.

  As they made their way down the incline, Hugo spotted a small lake below. Reeds choked the circumference and a small timber shed, which had a little jetty attached, stood silently to the right of the path. D’Alton walked on, the path only wide enough for one, and Hugo followed.

  As soon as they reached the door of the shed, d’Alton took a bunch of keys from his pocket and locating a small one, opened the new-looking padlock. He pushed the door open, and it creaked on its hinges.

  ‘I’ve had renovators and builders working on this place for a while, it drove them crazy to bring everything in on foot, but I insisted.’ This was the only explanation d’Alton gave.

  Inside, Hugo was amazed to discover not a shed but a little house. There was a tiny but perfectly functional kitchen, a large double bed with a beautiful, colourful patchwork quilt, and an open fire with a large comfortable-looking couch. At the back were double glass doors leading out onto a little deck that had an uninterrupted view of the lake and the woods. It was beautiful.

  ‘Is this yours?’ Hugo asked.

  ‘Yes, I bought it as soon as we sold the home. I used to come here as a boy, it was just an old shed then, and it was my sanctuary. I had a small boat, and I used to go fishing, read, dream, cry, everything, here in this shed, or out on the lake. My parents owned it as part of their land, but nobody ever used it so when we sold up, I insisted on keeping this part. I had it done up, and I get a local man to keep an eye on it for me. I come down here every few months, usually after a big case. Nobody knows where I am, and I stay a few days to recharge. Read, sleep, walk, that sort of thing. When I’m working, I kind of block everything else out and focus one hundred percent on the case, which can be exhausting. I love my place in France, but it’s a very social house, lots of people dropping in for drinks and so on. I enjoy it, but this is my bolthole when I want to check out of the world now and again. I’ve never brought another living soul here before.’ As he spoke, he looked directly at Hugo.

  ‘It’s wonderful, lovely, so cosy, well, it would be with the fire going I imagine. You’re so lucky to have this; nobody could even find it.’ Hugo wanted to say how flattered he was that he was the only person d’Alton had ever brought to this place, but he couldn’t find the words.

  ‘Everybody needs someplace, even if it’s a hut in the woods, someplace where they can go, just to be alone with their thoughts.’

  ‘I know,’ Hugo replied wistfully. ‘I own a huge estate but even then, I don’t know, I don’t get much time or space. There was a tree house, Martha and I—we were best friends as children—used to play there.’

  ‘Is she still around?’

  Hugo found himself telling d’Alton the whole story of the last time he’s seen her.

  ‘Well, I think it’s what most men like us have tried, just to see if we could. I did something similar years ago when I was in college, I didn’t get quite as far as you because I think the girl realised I wasn’t...I don’t know...anyway, I knew then tha
t women were never going to interest me in that way.’

  Hugo smiled ruefully. ‘She was being kind, thought she could fix me, though up to then she had no idea, which surprised me. I suppose I think I might as well have it written on my forehead, but afterwards she was nice, supportive, well as much as she could be…’ He shivered. The shed was cold but not damp.

  D’Alton stood looking out of the windows at the lake.

  ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’ Hugo’s voice sounded strange to his ears.

  ‘You could use it if you wanted…’ d’Alton began.

  ‘I wouldn’t come here without you, it wouldn’t feel right.’

  The silence hung between them. Hugo didn’t dare to divert his gaze from the vista outside and d’Alton’s back as he stood still. The older man’s voice eventually broke the stillness.

  ‘Would you like to come here with me sometime? When this is all over and you’ve had time to think about things.’ D’Alton still had his back to the room, and Hugo felt the tension and weight in the air between them.

  ‘I’d love to.’

  He moved towards d’Alton and didn’t allow himself to think about what he was doing, if he did, he would surely stop. Hugo stood behind him and put his arms around him, resting his face against d’Alton’s back. Several moments passed and then he turned around to face him.

  Hugo looked straight into his face and their eyes locked until d’Alton leaned forward and kissed him.

  Time passed as they stood there kissing. Hugo wanted the moment to never end. For the first time in his life, he felt alive inside, real, like a normal person.

  ‘I’m too old for you. You know that, don’t you?’ D’Alton smiled.

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Nothing about this is right in the eyes of the whole world so an age difference is the least of our problems.’ Hugo grinned. All traces of insecurity gone. This wasn’t just a fling or a schoolboy crush, he knew it. D’Alton brought him to his special place; the only person he’d ever brought there, this was real. They stood in each other’s arms, just enjoying the moment.