‘Well, the Stewarts are experts at shafting people,’ Luke commented bitterly as Grace stepped up to the microphone.
‘Oooh!’ exclaimed Tim again. ‘Perhaps Grace actually shafted the mayor!’
When Grace started speaking, Luke had to go. ‘I can’t sit through this, Tim. I’m going for a walk.’
Tim stood up, too. ‘No problem, mate. I’ll come with you. We’ll go raid the cake stalls, then get smashed.’
The showjumping event was over. Kate smiled for the cameras, nudging Petruchio’s head round so the blue rosette showed. Second place. A knock-down on the last fence. Last year, she would have been inconsolable. This year, losing didn’t matter. All she cared about was Luke, standing by the paddock fence, clapping madly.
‘You were wonderful, both of you,’ he told her as he caught her up in a close embrace. She clasped her hands around his neck and savoured a long, sweet kiss.
‘I’ll take Petruchio back to the stables,’ said Kate, ‘then I’ll get changed. Don’t want to spend the rest of the day in jodhpurs.’
Luke nodded. ‘I’ll wait near The Great Oak in about an hour.’
At that moment, Gavin appeared, face like thunder, and bearing the evidence of Luke’s headbutt the night before. If he tried to spoil this day, she’d swing for him.
‘Piece of shit!’ he called, staring directly at Luke. Then he added, ‘On the ground, I mean. Watch your step.’
‘Something certainly smells around here!’ snapped Kate, pushing past Gavin, hoping Petruchio would give him a crippling backward kick.
She felt Luke’s arm slide round her waist. ‘Ignore him. We’ll not let him spoil our day.’
‘You’re right,’ Kate agreed, and kissed him goodbye. Missing him already, she set about boxing Petruchio. She’d just finished when she smelled a familiar perfume behind her.
‘Hello, Kate.’
She turned round to face her mother, who was glam as ever in red silk, but her eyes were sad. Kate tried to push away a stab of guilt. ‘Hi, Mum.’
Sarah smiled. ‘Congratulations on your rosette.’
‘Thanks.’
The silence swelled and filled the space between them. They’d once shared everything; now they were struggling with small talk. ‘Well, I’d better get Petruchio back to the stables …’
‘Come home, Kate – please!’ Sarah’s voice was desperate. ‘This is all wrong. We shouldn’t let things come between us.’
‘I don’t want anything to come between us, Mum, but you’ll have to accept Luke.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘I can’t. Don’t ask me to do that. It’s not possible. He’s wrong for you …’
Now Kate shook her head. ‘You expect me to do what you want, but you haven’t given me one good reason. Why are you so against Luke? He’s a good person. Give him a chance!’ She willed her mother to understand.
‘Kate, he doesn’t fit in here. He never will. They won’t accept him. You’re being selfish, making him stay …’
Kate backed away, not wanting to hear any more. Sarah reached out but Kate dodged her grasp and ran to the truck door. Kate’s last vision before she drove away was of her mother, head down, and shoulders quivering. Kate couldn’t remember when she’d last seen Sarah cry.
Luke climbed the slope to The Great Oak, Baronsmere’s oldest tree. Kate wasn’t there yet and the big showpiece was about to begin. He called her number but it went straight to message. Hopefully she was driving back. He leaned against the tree, looking at the fancy VIP tent. Only snobs allowed in there. No champagne for the plebs. Still, their perfect little world was about to be disrupted thanks to Duncan Gilroy – and Tim, who’d covered the costs of this part of the protest. He was a bit of a rebel on the quiet.
Luke glanced at his watch. Three o’clock. Right on time, he heard a dull roar in the distance. It grew louder. He stood up and a rush of cold air blasted over him as a helicopter passed over and circled the village green. There were shrieks as paper cups and food wrappers swirled crazily in the updraught, marquees flapping dangerously. Leaflets scattered down over the green. Luke picked one up and read the impassioned plea for people to stand against the Woodlands development, to care about the affected residents and their rights.
Glancing across the green, Luke saw the bigwigs come out of their marquee to see what was happening. Grace was among them, looking fit to spit. She was having to clamp her stupid great hat to her head to keep it from blowing away in the wind from the circling helicopter. Luke caught her eye and couldn’t resist giving her a smile and a little wave. He was determined to stare her down, and felt great satisfaction when she eventually turned away.
‘Kiernans, one, Stewarts, nil,’ he muttered, then turned as he heard footsteps behind him scrunching through the scattered leaflets. He’d expected to see Kate but it was Gavin. Luke clenched his fists, remembering his cousin’s words from yesterday.
‘Waiting for Kate?’ Gavin asked. ‘Probably having a quick shag somewhere. She’s a bit of a slapper. High class one, though.’
Luke wasn’t going to rise to that one. This time he’d not give in to his temper, but Gavin seemed set on trouble. ‘I don’t know how you have the nerve, pikey. Regular people wouldn’t do what you lot do. Still, it must make finding a date easier.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Luke.
Gavin smiled. ‘In the civilised world, we don’t shag our sisters.’
Luke’s mind replayed the words in shocked silence.
‘Did you hear me, pikey?’ asked Gavin. ‘Jack-is-Kate’s-dad.’
Luke couldn’t speak. His knees felt weak.
‘Course it might not matter – I’ve heard your mother spread it around a bit so you’re probably not even a Stewart … thank God.’
Gavin winked and walked away, whistling. Luke felt giddy and sank slowly to the ground, where he sat against The Great Oak in shock, the protest leaflets drifting around him.
Sarah wanted to be alone. Had snapped at a couple who’d tried to join her. Misery didn’t want company in this case. It didn’t even want a drink. Her glass of wine was untouched. She’d tried disappearing into the bottom of a bottle when Jack split up with her, but it hadn’t helped. Only postponed the inevitable. Baronsmere was a small place and she couldn’t avoid Jack forever. She was now trying to desensitise herself by watching him – from a discreet distance so she didn’t look like some sad stalker. He was queuing at the hot-dog stall. Trying to be your average Joe.
‘Sarah …’
God, why couldn’t people leave her in peace! She looked up, ready to snap at the intruder. It was Luke. Deathly pale and gripping the table for support. There was no sign of Kate. God, had there been an accident …?
‘Is it true?’ Luke’s voice was little more than a whisper.
‘What?’ she asked. There was a desperation in his eyes that scared her.
‘Is Kate Jack’s daughter? Gavin just told me that. Is it true?’
Sarah felt a brief flare of anger at Richard for breaking his word and telling the secret to Gavin, but then she realised this might be part of his plan to get rid of Luke. She also wanted Luke gone. This was a God-given opportunity.
‘Luke, I’m sorry …’ She saw the light of hope flicker and die from his eyes. The guilt was crushing. She’d have to live with it always. ‘Kate doesn’t know,’ she continued. ‘I don’t want her to. I— I don’t know how Gavin found out.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Sarah! Why didn’t you tell me, before—’
‘I tried to warn Kate,’ Sarah protested, ‘but she thought I was prejudiced. I’m not, believe me. I have nothing against you, Luke, but I couldn’t tell Kate the truth. Or Jack. I didn’t want him to be with me out of obligation. If you love Kate, you won’t tell her either, Luke. Please.’ That was low but might ensure his silence.
&
nbsp; His shoulders were slumped, his head down. It was obvious how much he cared for Kate, and Sarah felt a lump in her throat. Luke was still grieving for his mother, and now this. For a moment, she wavered. But it was too late.
Luke glanced up again and now there was bitterness in his eyes. ‘Kate’s two months older than me. You were screwin’ Jack when he was with my mam. Is that why she left?’
‘I-I don’t know, Luke. I don’t know why Annie left.’
She glanced across at the hot-dog stall. Jack was still there. Luke followed her gaze, and then he abruptly left the table and walked across the green. Sarah watched, mortified, as Luke’s fist connected with his father’s jaw. Jack staggered backwards but was caught by two bystanders. Luke shouted something, turned on his heel, and marched away, his expression part anger, part misery. Sarah was full of self-loathing. ‘Oh, God,’ she thought, as the enormity of what she’d done hit her. She grabbed the wine glass and drained it. ‘Bitch,’ she cursed herself.
It took every ounce of willpower to concentrate on driving. Living didn’t figure very highly on Luke’s list of priorities, but he didn’t want to kill anyone. Or smash up Tim’s car. He’d surely broken the speed limit leaving the village green after hitting Jack. Not that being arrested for assault bothered him. He just wanted to get away quickly, to put distance between himself and the Stewarts.
It all fitted. Sarah had been apologetic, seemed guilty. Genuine guilt surely, because she’d been almost nice to him. Maybe Kate’s fair hair and green eyes should have given him a clue. Jack had deserved that punch, the bastard, though Luke had probably ruined any relationship with Matt and he was sorry about that.
Luckily, Luke still had a key to Jack’s house. Expecting someone to turn up any minute, he moved fast, taking the thirty thousand euro from the safe and stashing it in one of Matt’s sports bags. The dogs were barking and he wanted to go and fuss them one last time but couldn’t risk it.
Twenty minutes later he was back at the Leighton’s, shoving his few belongings into the sports bag. He tried not to look at the unmade bed, tried not to think of Kate and what he couldn’t have. He didn’t leave a note. He’d text her to say goodbye when he was well clear. He couldn’t just disappear from her life without a word. He’d text Tim, too, to tell him where the car was. He paused for a moment and looked around sadly, before finally closing the door on his brief stay in Baronsmere, and his even briefer life with Kate.
And now what? His long-term future had little meaning. He wasn’t even sure he’d have one, but he had something to do first. He’d wondered how to do some good with the money and had suddenly thought of Jessie. Thinking about that kept him focused, able to reach his destination in one piece.
He stopped the car and stared ahead. He was tired and overwhelmingly homesick. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – run any more. The sign in front of him was strangely comforting. Welcome to the Port of Holyhead.
Matt entered the First Aid tent, looking anxious. Maggie had insisted he be called over the tannoy, and Jack had been too shocked by the incident to protest.
‘Jesus, Dad! What the hell happened?’
‘I was assaulted,’ mumbled Jack, slumped in a chair, holding an ice pack to his jaw.
‘Who did it?’ demanded Matt.
‘Luke.’
‘Come again?’
Jack wasn’t in the mood for going into a lot of detail. It hurt to speak. ‘Luke punched me – for no reason,’ he managed to say.
‘Actually, he punched you because of Annie,’ Maggie chimed in. ‘Apparently he was heard to say “That’s for my Mam”.’
Jack glowered at her and she shrugged. ‘All I’m saying is, that was his reason.’
Matt looked confused. And disbelieving. He most likely had Luke earmarked for sainthood, such was the relationship between the two of them. ‘But why now?’ he asked. ‘Luke’s been here a while and you’ve given him plenty cause to clock you before …’
‘Oh, thank you!’ snapped Jack. ‘I’m the injured party here, Matt. Literally.’
‘Nonsense. It was just a tap.’ Maggie pulled Jack’s hand with the ice pack away from his jaw and peered at the damage. ‘Hardly a mark. It’s your pride that’s been hurt most. That boy weighs next to nothing. He just caught you unawares.’
‘The nurse said I was lucky not to lose a tooth,’ declared Jack, but no one seemed interested.
‘Matt, find Luke,’ said Maggie. ‘Check he’s okay … Something happened to set him off. Something to do with his mother. The lad’s still grieving, you know …’
Jack hoped Maggie was being overcautious – Luke was touchy and hot-tempered but he’d not do something stupid.
Matt pulled out his mobile. ‘I’ll call Kate. She’s the first person Luke will go to.’
Five hours later there was still no sign of Luke and Kate was beside herself with worry. At first, everyone had been convinced he would contact her, but there’d been no word, no message. Driving round and round Baronsmere, she’d started to feel dizzy. Luke seemed to have vanished. Now it was getting dark and chilly and she hoped he had shelter, wherever he was.
At the village green parking area, Kate met as arranged with Tim, Matt and Al. The night sky was alight with fireworks, the May Day finale, and their worried faces glowed a ghostly green. None of them had found Luke.
‘Dad’s driving round Hadleigh and Marsham, just in case,’ Matt told them. ‘He insisted he was fit enough to do it.’
That was a long shot – Luke didn’t know either of those villages – but Kate appreciated Jack’s efforts.
‘Shall we stay here and scan the crowds as they leave after the fireworks?’ Tim suggested.
Kate gave a half-hearted nod. Luke had been so wound up that he’d punched his father. He was unlikely to be watching a firework display.
‘Do you want to go home, Kate?’ asked Matt. ‘You look done in. And Luke may go back there when he’s cooled down.’
Kate shook her head. ‘I need to be doing something, Matt. Let’s have just one last look round and then decide what to do next.’
The village green looked unfamiliar in the murky evening light. They did a quick check of the marquees where volunteers were stacking chairs and packing things in boxes. Tony Hayes waved them over. ‘Afraid the food’s all gone. How’s Jack? Reckon he’ll have quite the bruise tomorrow.’
Matt sighed. ‘That’s the least of our worries, Tony. We can’t find Luke.’
‘Sorry to hear that. I suppose he’s keeping his head down for a bit.’ Tony looked genuinely concerned. ‘Have you asked Sarah why he was so upset?’
‘My mum?’ asked Kate, startled.
‘Babs said she saw Luke talking to Sarah a few minutes before he went over and decked Jack.’
Had her mother provoked Luke into hitting Jack? At least it was something new to follow up, but the answer might be the final nail in the coffin for Sarah and Kate’s relationship.
Kate quickly roamed the rooms, but the cottage was empty.
‘I’ll make us some coffee,’ said Matt. ‘Then we’ll work out what to do next.’
Kate tried her mother’s mobile again but she still had it switched off. Sarah had left messages and texts every day since Kate had left home, but they’d gone unanswered. Perhaps Kate should have got in touch. Her mother’s tears today had seemed genuine. And Kate’s rejection had pushed Sarah into saying something upsetting to Luke – something about Jack. That’s for my Mam.
Kate’s mind kept raking over the pieces of the puzzle as she and Matt drank their coffee.
‘I feel there’s something we’re missing,’ she said. ‘Let’s look at the facts. Luke was talking to my mum, and then he went straight over to Jack and punched him, saying it was for Annie.’
‘So?’ Matt rubbed his eyes, obviously fighting to stay awake.
Kate was exhausted, too, but the thought of Luke being out there alone forced her to focus.
‘My mum must have said something that implied Jack had hurt Annie in some way.’
‘Dad wouldn’t have hurt Annie. He loved her.’
As much as Kate didn’t want to believe it, her mother would have said anything if she thought it would cause trouble for Luke. Matt said Jack loved Annie, and everything other people said – Maggie, Barbara – seemed to bear that out. Did it mean, though, that Jack was totally innocent?
‘My mum’s filing cabinet,’ she said, thoughtfully.
‘What?’
‘The filing cabinet in the study. It’s always locked.’
‘I don’t see …’
‘Neither do I, Matt! I’m clutching at straws here, but if my mum knew something about Jack, or Annie, or whatever, then maybe – just maybe – there’s a clue.’ She put down her coffee and stood up. ‘If nothing else, it’ll pass some bloody time.’
Ten minutes later, Kate still hadn’t found the keys to the filing cabinet. Only one thing for it …
‘Matt – can you force it open? Mum must have the key with her.’
He looked horrified. ‘Kate, I can’t do that …’
‘Please! I’ll take responsibility. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced she’s hiding something, Matt. Last time she was in here, I came in to talk to her and she slammed the filing cabinet shut. Looked guilty as hell. I didn’t think about it at the time, but it’s not my imagination, I know it’s not.’
‘What makes you think I can get it open?’ said Matt.
‘You can do anything.’ She gave him her best smile.
He sighed. ‘And so begins my life of crime. Where’s your tool box?’
Kate’s eyes were beginning to blur. She’d gone through the contents of the top two filing cabinet drawers and found only information about the business: invoices, bank statements, insurance files.
Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) Page 31
