Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit)

by Connor, Isabella

  ‘A protest!’ shrieked Tim, scanning the leaflet. ‘Policemen with truncheons grappling our bodies to the ground! Revolution! What fun!’

  ‘No, this isn’t for us, Tim,’ said Al, also reading a leaflet. ‘Stewart Enterprises are involved in the Woodlands development. Best not shit on our own doorstep.’

  ‘Guess not,’ agreed Tim, ripping up the paper and stuffing the pieces into an empty beer glass. Luke quickly pocketed one of the leaflets. He planned to find out more. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was people getting pushed around.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sunday morning. Jack’s head was splitting and this time it wasn’t the church bells. He hadn’t slept well. Broken sleep had been the norm since he’d got the news about Annie. Last night, his dream had been about Emer: he’d been kissing her on the patio when Luke appeared and said, ‘The coffin’s here.’

  At times Jack felt guilty about the lack of effort he put into forging a relationship with Luke, but it was hard to know where to start. Luke probably felt the same. He generally avoided Jack and didn’t have much to say for himself when their paths did cross. It had been a relief in some ways that he’d had that chest infection and had rested in his room for much of the past week. Admittedly, he hadn’t looked well. Maybe Jack should have made an attempt to communicate then, when Luke was a bit less feisty. He hadn’t, though. He’d barely looked in on him, even just to ask how he was. He’d made do with asking Maggie and Matt.

  Wondering whether Luke was his son tormented Jack. The thought of caring for Luke and then finding out he wasn’t his was more than he could handle. If Luke was the result of Annie’s betrayal … well, Jack just wasn’t saintly enough to say it wouldn’t matter. He was angry with Annie, jealous of her lover, and he knew he punished Luke for it. Exactly what Emer had warned him not to do. One more thing for him to feel guilty about, which wasn’t helping his headache.

  And he was worried about Kate. Sarah was right to be concerned. Jack had been like a father to Kate, and he didn’t want her hurt if Luke upped and left. He’d have to talk to her. Find out what was what. But he just wasn’t feeling up to it today.

  He’d missed his walk yesterday to Hartswood Hill. His father had been inundating Jack with work recently – Nicholas’s equivalent of a hundred lines for Jack’s bad behaviour: having the audacity to leave the business for a week. Perhaps he’d feel better after some fresh air. More ready to cope with the cold comfort that was Sunday lunch at Edenbridge.

  Jack arrived home still tired. The walk and the fresh air had done nothing to alleviate the tension, still a tight band around his head. He wasn’t surprised. The headache was unlikely to go while the cause remained. Turning into his driveway, he tried to alleviate some of his frustration by flooring the accelerator and racing up to the house before swerving across the gravel and grinding to a sudden halt. He got out of the car, slamming the door shut.

  ‘Mr Stewart …’

  Jack turned to see Rob, the gardener, walking towards him. Within moments, his headache was a lot worse.

  In the living room, Matt and Luke were hunched over a chessboard. Chatting away like best friends. The cuckoo in the nest now had Kate, Maggie and Matt well and truly onside while Jack was being marginalised. His resentment surged.

  Matt glanced up. ‘Hi, Dad. I’m teaching Luke how to play chess.’

  Jack ignored Matt. ‘My study, Luke – now!’ he snapped.

  ‘What the—?’ began Matt, but Jack cut him off.

  ‘Stay here, Matt. I need to talk to Luke in private.’

  Jack marched out of the living room, banged open his study door, and sat down on the edge of the desk, arms folded.

  Luke appeared in the doorway, scowling. ‘What’s wrong? Is playin’ chess above my status?’

  ‘I want to know what the fuck is going on.’ Jack held up the charred remains of The Dead.

  ‘I burned Mam’s things,’ said Luke, his tone defiant. ‘It’s Traveller tradition. You said the book was hers.’

  Annie had once told Jack about that ritual, but he wasn’t about to let Luke off the hook. ‘Yes, it was her book, but you could have consulted me first instead of just going ahead and destroying it. It was a rare illustrated edition, worth several hundred pounds.’

  Luke shrugged, a habit that irritated Jack intensely. ‘It’s always about money.’

  ‘It’s not always about money!’ snapped Jack. ‘But you need to learn respect for people’s property.’

  Luke bristled. ‘What does that mean? I didn’t do it out of a lack of respect …’

  ‘No,’ agreed Jack. ‘You did it out of spite. To get at me. Your mother left the book, so it was hardly necessary to include it in an obvious attempt to flaunt your background in my face.’

  ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘Why not? Your mother left the Travelling life. By all accounts she only went back to it because she had no choice. You think she’d have wanted this?’

  ‘You don’t know anythin’!’ spat Luke. ‘My mother wanted a better life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have respect for Traveller culture … and it was her book.’

  ‘Annie loved books. I don’t think she’d have wanted it destroyed. But, anyway, it’s not really about the book. It’s about this.’ He held up a tangled mass of chain and dusty gemstones, found that morning by the gardener. ‘Where did you get this?’

  Luke clenched his jaw. He looked angry but not guilty. ‘What do you mean – where did I get it? It was with Mam’s things.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Luke. Your mother didn’t take this with her.’

  ‘Why don’t you just come right out and call me a fuckin’ thief?’

  ‘Watch your mouth,’ Jack demanded.

  ‘Like you did when I walked in here,’ argued Luke. ‘Jesus, but you’re a hypocrite.’

  Jack focused his attention back on the necklace, determined to get the truth. ‘I’ll ask you again, Luke. Where did you get it?’

  Luke looked as if he was fighting the urge to punch Jack. ‘Ask as many times as you like. You’ll get the same answer. If you don’t believe me, ring the hospital. They probably saw it when they poked their noses in.’

  ‘I think they’d have mentioned it, don’t you? Offered to put it in a safe, perhaps.’

  ‘Maybe they didn’t think it was worth anythin’,’ Luke retorted. ‘I don’t suppose they’re experts.’

  Suddenly Jack was unsure. It was impossible for Annie to have had the necklace, but there was something in Luke’s expression that seemed sincere, and in hospital he’d been very anxious that his suitcase was safe. ‘But she left it behind!’ he said, and slammed the necklace onto the desk in frustration. ‘I gave it to her on our wedding day and I was gutted she didn’t think enough of me, or our marriage, to take it with her. It couldn’t have been in the case.’

  Luke’s voice rose in anger. ‘So I’m a liar as well as a thief!’

  Their raised voices brought both Maggie and Matt to the study.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ asked Matt.

  Matt was doubtless going to take his brother’s side, no matter what. But just how solid was the evidence? Maybe Jack had been wrong to go after Luke so aggressively. It had achieved nothing. ‘I asked Luke to explain something he couldn’t – at least, not to my satisfaction.’ He indicated the necklace. ‘Rob found this. Luke apparently tried to burn Annie’s things out in the firepit.’

  ‘Did you, love?’ Maggie looked worried. ‘That sounds very dangerous.’

  ‘It’s a Traveller tradition,’ said Matt. ‘I was with him. Made sure he was okay.’ He exchanged a glance and small smile with Luke.

  So Matt had known. Again Jack felt like an outsider. ‘I want to know where he got it because Annie didn’t take it with her.’

  ‘Are
you sure?’ asked Matt. ‘Do you actually remember seeing it after she’d gone?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was there in Annie’s jewel case with all the other pieces he’d given her. Jack had got drunk after seeing such a blatant rejection of his affection for her.

  ‘Annie’s jewellery was sent to auction,’ said Maggie. ‘That was your mother’s idea.’

  Jack frowned. ‘I don’t remember that.’

  ‘I’m not surprised – you were drunk as a skunk most of the time.’

  Jack glared at Maggie for her insolence, but she was right. He’d been fit for nothing for months.

  ‘You agreed with Grace. Said you wanted all of Annie’s things out of the house.’

  Thinking about it, he could vaguely remember that happening, which meant that Luke couldn’t have found the necklace. Jack so didn’t want a mystery. He wanted Luke to have discovered the necklace somewhere in the house, and to have used it as part of the funeral ritual. It was easier that way.

  ‘So how did Mam get it then?’ asked Luke.

  ‘Someone could have bought it at the auction and sent it to her,’ suggested Maggie.

  ‘But who would know where she was?’ asked Matt, voicing Jack’s own question.

  ‘Your mother hired that detective …’ Maggie’s voice trailed off, but she looked pointedly at Jack.

  He knew what she was implying but her theory made no sense. Grace would never have sent an expensive necklace to Annie. He wondered about Claire – she’d been close to Annie, but she was also very loyal to Jack. She’d not go behind his back.

  ‘Ask Gran what she knows,’ said Matt. ‘Maybe she remembers who bought the necklace at auction. You’re going there for lunch anyway.’

  How to ask his mother without it seeming like an accusation? She was very touchy about anything connected to Annie. Matt’s presence would put her in a good mood. ‘Okay, I’ll ask her. Will you come with me for lunch, Matt?’

  ‘Nope. If Luke’s not invited, I’m certainly not going. And I think you owe Luke an apology for calling him a thief.’

  ‘I didn’t call him a thief,’ snapped Jack, although indirectly he knew he had. ‘Have the decency to phone your grandmother and give your apologies. You’ve missed Sunday lunches for weeks now. It’s just plain rude.’

  Jack knew he was being unreasonable, lashing out at Matt because of his own assumptions about the necklace, but the way everyone seemed to automatically side with Luke and cast Jack as the villain was irritating. Matt was scowling at him now, and Maggie was wearing her indignant expression. ‘I’m better go and change into something decent before I go,’ he said, and turned on his heel.

  ‘A human bein’ maybe,’ he heard Luke mutter behind him.

  At Edenbridge, the dining room was empty, apart from the maid, who was clearing away the china. She gave Jack a pitying look. ‘Her Ladyship’s in the morning room, sir.’

  He’d stopped off at The Feathers for a pint, mulling over what had happened that morning. Before he knew it, an hour had passed, meaning lunch at Edenbridge was over. His subconscious had probably done that deliberately because he was unsure how to broach such a sensitive issue with his mother. Eventually, though, he’d decided to ask her about the necklace because he wanted to solve the mystery.

  He knocked on the door of the morning room and entered when he heard his mother’s sharp ‘Come in’.

  She was bent over her writing desk, signing a card, and didn’t look up. This was Grace’s domain where she co-ordinated and consolidated her pre-eminent role in Baronsmere society. Here she wrote her invitations, planned her dinner parties, and telephoned her network of cronies. It was a beautiful room, all carefully chosen chintz and china, but Jack had never felt at ease here. Once, as a boy, he’d accidentally knocked over a Dresden shepherdess and watched in dismay as it smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces, beyond repair. His mother had shouted at him and he’d been banished from her presence for days. At the time, as a child, that had upset him. Now, as an adult, he could see it made little difference. She’d never been a warm, loving mother.

  ‘So, you’re here at last. Lunch is finished, I’m afraid. I’m far too busy to delay meals for thoughtless people. The May Day celebration is coming up – I’ve got the seating arrangements to approve and the marquees aren’t big enough.’

  She put the signed card into an envelope, which she then started to address in her small, neat handwriting. She still hadn’t looked at him. She was obviously waiting for an apology. If there was going to be any opportunity for discussion, Jack would have to give her what she wanted. ‘I’m sorry I missed lunch, Mother.’

  Grace put the cap on her fountain pen and sighed deeply, finally turning to look at him. ‘May I ask why you didn’t turn up?’

  Where to start? Probably best to come right out with it. He took the necklace from his jacket pocket. ‘We’ve got something of a mystery. I gave this necklace to Annie on our wedding day. You remember? I bought it from Cartier.’

  A look of distaste had crossed Grace’s face at the mention of Annie. She peered at the necklace. ‘Yes, I remember. Sapphires and diamonds. A beautiful piece. Very extravagant of you, I thought. What on earth has happened to it?’

  ‘It got burned, never mind how.’ The last thing Jack wanted to mention was Traveller funeral rituals. ‘The strange thing is, Luke had it.’

  ‘So?’ He could sense Grace losing interest, which irritated him.

  ‘Annie didn’t take it with her. So … either she came back to get it, which I think is unlikely, or …’ He paused. ‘Or … someone sent it to her.’

  He watched his mother’s face closely for any signs of guilt, but found none.

  ‘Why would anyone do that?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?’

  ‘Perhaps she asked for it,’ suggested Grace. ‘Your own servant might have sent it to her. Lord knows, they were thick as thieves, those two.’

  Jack had heard Annie slyly denigrated in this way many times over the years, but today he didn’t want to hear it. ‘Maggie has given me her word she knew nothing about it.’

  ‘You’re too trusting, Jack.’

  That barb rankled, but he let it pass. Tried to keep focused on the issue. ‘Apparently Annie’s jewellery was auctioned. Your idea.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Do you remember who bought the necklace?’

  Grace rolled her eyes. ‘It was twenty years ago. I can’t remember that. I don’t think I even attended. Why would I have?’

  ‘Which auction house handled the sale?’

  ‘I don’t remember that either.’

  He’d reached a dead end. The suspicion had been there at the back of his mind that his mother had sent Annie the necklace, but it seemed so unlikely. And she hadn’t flinched when he’d brought the topic of the auction up. There was another possibility, though …

  ‘The market value of that necklace would have paid the rent for quite a few years. Kept a roof over the head of a mother – and her child. Made sure Annie didn’t need to come back here.’

  The atmosphere in the room changed perceptibly. Grace stood up. Her tone was steely. ‘Are you going somewhere with all this, Jack?’

  Jack hesitated, but he needed answers. ‘Do you think Dad sent the necklace to Annie?’

  Grace stared at him. ‘He most certainly did not! He was glad to see the back of her!’

  Jack’s stomach churned. ‘Yes, I know. And neither of you wanted her to come back, did you?’

  His mother’s cheeks were flushed with anger. ‘I know what’s sparked this! It’s because your father and I wouldn’t go to the funeral. And we wouldn’t blithely accept that boy as our own. Well, whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into, don’t involve me. Or your father. He’d be incensed if he knew what you’re
suggesting.’

  ‘Where is he? Maybe I should talk to him.’

  Grace banged the desk with her fist. ‘Will you stop, Jack! Just stop!’ She shook her finger in his face. ‘That boy is doing what he came to do. Causing trouble. How you can keep him under your roof, I don’t know …’

  Jack couldn’t disguise his disgust any longer. Further discussion was pointless. ‘I’ll see myself out. You’ve got marquees to attend to. What could be more important than that?’

  As he closed the door, his mother called him, demanding he return. Grace always liked to have the last word and there was some small satisfaction in depriving her of that, but he was still left wondering about the necklace.

  Jack stood at the huge window in his father’s office at Stewart Enterprises. The damp grey roofs of Manchester stared back. Two cups of coffee had finally woken him up, but Jack still wasn’t feeling that usual buzz about a brand new business day. The weekend from hell had drained him. And depressed him. He could have done without this Monday morning meeting, but Nicholas always insisted on a catch-up session first thing. Said it was best to ‘grab the week by the balls.’

  ‘Morning. Sorry for the delay – couple of urgent calls from clients.’ Richard had joined them. The man with no balls. Who didn’t know one end of a levelling rod from another. Who never set foot on a messy construction site if he could help it. Who was called Thick Dick – and not as a compliment – by site managers. Jack often dreamed of firing him when Nicholas handed over the business, but he never would, because of Claire. He loved his sister more than he hated Richard.

  Richard smirked at Jack, and said ‘Pity you missed luncheon yesterday – there was some excellent salmon.’

  Pity the prat hadn’t choked on a fish bone. Richard had probably stoked Grace’s anger all through the meal. He never missed a chance to make himself look good at the expense of others.

  ‘Was your absence from lunch something to do with Traveller Boy? We all know things are difficult at present, Jack. If there’s anything you feel you can’t handle here, just pass it on to me.’