My Husband's Sin

by Mary T Bradford

  “Yeah, it’s a good spot to have a cup of tea and read the papers or have a chat.”

  Sally guessed Willow didn’t have too many friends stopping by for chats, even the chairs discouraged it. The politeness between the two women was strained and awkward, which seemed ridiculous. They were sisters and should be comfortable together.

  “So what brings you here?” Willow flipped the switch on the kettle as she busied herself getting out cups and putting some ginger cake onto plates. The crockery matched perfectly. No chipped plates or ugly heavy mugs in this smart kitchen.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while and took a chance on calling to see how you are doing.”

  “Oh right, do you take sugar and milk?” Keeping her back to her sister, Willow dealt with the two steaming cups of tea before her.

  “Just milk, thanks. So, how are you?”

  Willow grabbed a spoon and then placed it back down. Her shoulders drooped with weariness. They needed to be honest with each other but neither approached the true answer of how they were feeling.Turning to join Sally at the table, she smiled and offered her sister some cake. “Any sign of Robert? I’ve not heard from him lately, but I guess he is busy.”

  “I was chatting to him in the last few days. I rang him for a quick chat to see what he was up to.” Sally had noticed the change of subject, but didn’t comment.

  She didn’t tell Willow that their brother had come for supper and stayed over. Somehow, she was sure Willow would feel left out. Damn it! Here she was acting like she had a secret fan, and it was only Robert, for Christ’s sake, their brother. What had become of them all lately? The secrets and lies seemed to come too easily to her; she didn’t like this change in herself at all. Her sister’s sharp voice broke in to her thinking.

  “No fear of him, Sally. The big businessman will be fine. He has his work and his girlfriend to occupy him and he won’t be giving us a single thought, I can tell you.” The bitterness in Willow’s voice filled the kitchen with an air of hostility. She sounded jealous of her brother having his work and Aoife to fill his days.

  “Ah no, Willow. I’m sure he is confused and has questions, just like the rest of us.”

  “Why, what did he say?” Willow sounded as though she wanted to hear Robert was suffering.

  “Nothing, I mean nothing dramatic. He felt let down by Mum and Dad and why they never told us, that’s all.” Sally wondered why she felt the need to defend her brother. Was their trust in each other gone forever? Looking at Willow, she wondered why her sister seemed so resentful, were they all not experiencing change?

  Fiddling with a spoon, Willow squirmed as Sally stared at her across the kitchen table. “More tea?” She stood and busied herself with the kettle, filling it up again.

  “Willow, what’s up? I mean, I know we all have stuff to get our heads around, but is something else bothering you?”

  * * *

  Sally’s question caught Willow off-guard and she closed her eyes tightly. Silence seemed to stretch between them. It was the splashing of water as the kettle overflowed into the sink that caused both women to act.

  Willow dropped the kettle with a loud bang and leant in over the sink as she started to cry. Jumping to her sister’s side, Sally took control.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” She turned off the tap and carefully guided her sister to a chair. Pulling out the nearest seat, she watched Willow sink down on it.

  “Hey, hey, come on. It’s me, Sis, tell me what’s wrong?”

  But the crying continued with great heavy sobs. The relief to finally let go was immense, and Willow sat with Sally’s arms wrapped around her. The hug was so comforting. As the eldest, Willow had always led the way for her siblings. Now it was Sally who seemed to be the glue holding the family together in the face of the latest revelations. Willow felt a failure yet again. The sobbing eventually subsided, as she pulled herself a little together.

  “Right, wash your face, put on some lippy and let’s head to the shops. I feel some serious retail therapy is required.”

  “Oh, Sal, you’re a Godsend. I so needed that cry and yes, a bit of shopping and spending Derek’s money sounds good to me,” Willow said between sniffles, with a weak attempt at smiling. She wiped her nose with some kitchen paper that Sally handed to her.

  It felt like old times for Willow. Out shopping with her sister, instead of her dear mum, she was determined to stop feeling sorry for herself and to enjoy their trip. The hustle and bustle of the shopping centre was the perfect remedy to the lousy start to her day, and it was a treat to share it with Sally. Giggling at some of the clothes on the rails proved the perfect antidote to the misery they had both been feeling since the reading of Lillian’s will.

  “Hey, Sal, what do you think?” Willow held up a purple Lurex boob-tube.

  “Wait! I saw the perfect mini to match,” Sally said, and the two burst into laughter.

  “What about this?” she held up a scarlet bra with a fur trim, and pretended to model it.

  “Oh my God! My dear sister, if I were to get that, my Derek would collapse with a heart attack! Can you imagine his face? It would be a picture.” Willow laughed and rolled her eyes heavenward.

  “So you and Derek are still active then?” Sally teased, as she placed the bra back on the rails.

  Willow pretended to be shocked with her sister, but couldn’t help smiling.

  “We’re not that old, I’ll remind you.”

  “Well at least you’re getting some. It’s been so long for me, I’m rusty!” She pulled a silly face.

  “Sally Taylor, are you turning into a nun on me?”

  “Lord, no! I just haven’t met anyone in the last year that I’d jump into bed with. Actually, the last time for me was in a tent, the night sky our blanket, and a campfire outside casting a warm glow over us.” Willow stopped searching the rail of clothes and looked at her sister, disbelief on her face.

  “Sal, are you serious?”

  “No, dear Willow, not at all. I was just dreaming. The last time was in a rickety single bed and it was over in two minutes!”

  “Oh that’s terrible.” The two women giggled again and left the shop arm-in-arm.

  They wandered happily around the shopping mall, treating themselves to new make-up and delicious handmade chocolates. Not once was their mother’s death or the nasty business with Lacey mentioned. This was a day of chatter and giggles, and both women felt more content with life as they strolled through the crowded stores amidst ringing mobile phones and children’s excited voices.

  “Let’s finish the day with a trip to the cinema,” Sally suggested, as she checked her watch.

  “Why not? Let me ring Derek and let him know I won’t be home for dinner.”

  Her husband, back from his overseas trip, sounded relieved to hear Willow in such happy form. No doubt he hoped Sally would work her magic on Willow and remind her how to live life and have fun. He assured her he would grab a takeaway on his way home from the office.

  The sisters dropped off their purchases to the boot of the car, and headed to the cinema, grabbing some popcorn and drinks in the foyer.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “How are you keeping?” Mr. Sherman enquired, as he gently plucked a speck of fluff from his trousers. This meeting was going to be awkward. When he had noticed on his list of appointments that Lacey Taylor wished to speak with him, he had cleared extra time in his schedule for her. This young girl, whose life had been turned upside down, wasn’t much older than his youngest daughter and he felt obliged not to rush her. In truth, he felt sorry for Lacey and really did want to help her if he could.

  Friends from way back, Philip Sherman had been surprised all those years ago when Joe Taylor had approached him about handling a delicate matter. At first the solicitor thought a business deal had gone wrong and Joe had lost some money, or maybe he had an associate that needed advice. His friend had never struck him as the wandering type, and he’d barely disguised his surprise when Joe to
ld him he had fathered a daughter with another woman and wanted to raise her with his wife, Lillian. The paperwork and arrangements involved had provided a few headaches and late nights for Philip, he recalled.

  Lacey sighed. “I’m doing better than I thought I’d be,” she answered honestly, her slight frame made smaller by the large desk.

  “And the others? I’ve not heard from them, I presume they are doing as well as can be expected?”

  “Well yes, I suppose they are,” she hesitated a little.

  He sensed uneasiness in her voice, something lying beneath the surface that she wasn’t telling him. Her hands fidgeted with the fringes of her mustard scarf, as though she was uncomfortable talking about the others. Should he push the issue or leave matters alone? The anxiety on her young face prompted him to ask.

  “Is everything with the family okay, Miss Taylor?” His tone was soft, almost fatherly.

  “Call me Lacey, please. It’s okay. Well, it is and it isn’t.” She stared up at the ceiling, anywhere but at Mr. Sherman.

  “I see, and what is it you need me to do for you today? Had you anything specific in mind?” He needed to be careful how he approached the task. Lacey was fragile, even if she wasn’t aware of it herself.

  She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders.

  “Don’t get me wrong, my brother and sisters are all fine, I’m sure,” she said. “I mean, we are all fine.”

  Somehow, her words came across as faltering and unconvincing.

  “Lacey, are you okay? You’ve gone pale, do you need some water?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Sherman, it’s all been so overwhelming, I need direction. That’s why I’m here. I need you to give me advice and direction...please.”

  Although she felt abandoned by her siblings, she lay back into the chair and relaxed a little more. Philip sensed it had taken a lot of effort and heart-searching to reach this stage.

  “Well, what exactly do you mean by direction? Did the letter not explain the special circumstances surrounding your, er, place in the Taylor family?” Now he felt a little awkward. Dear Lord, was he blushing? He could feel colour sweep his cheeks as he coughed to clear his throat.

  “Explain? Listen, all that letter did was tell me that the woman I called Mum all my life was not my mother, and how she always despised me and I was nothing to her. Her only concern was how her three precious children would be affected by the disclosure.”

  Her anger filled his office, her voice strong and her wide eyes staring him down. He was shocked at the turn of events and the outburst from the young woman. This was not what he had expected to hear. Should he buzz for some tea? Would it calm the situation?

  “I’m sure Mrs. Taylor didn’t mean it to sound that way. No doubt emotions are running high after the funeral and perhaps you misinterpreted the letter, Lacey.”

  Rummaging in her handbag she pulled out a sheet of well crumpled paper. She threw Lillian’s letter on his desk and pointed at it, her hands shaking as if she had handled poison.

  “You are joking, aren’t you, Mr. Sherman? You have no idea the life I had with Lillian Taylor. I may have called her Mum, but she was as warm towards me as an iceberg. Oh, she meant all that she said. She always made sure I was on the edge of the Taylor family.” She pointed at the piece of paper and indicated for him to read it.

  After reading the damning letter, Mr. Sherman was struggling for words.

  “But your father, Lacey, surely he handled situations differently?”

  “My father, he...He loved me, I know he did. He tucked me in at night when he was at home in the evenings. He would hug me, and twirl my hair between his fingers, and said I was his special little girl and how he loved me.” She gulped as though the kind memories were flashing before her.

  Lacey’s tears poured out and all the fight and anger of earlier melted and disappeared. She was like a lost little girl, longing for one of her father’s hugs. Unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around herself for comfort. The old solicitor got up and went around to where she sat.

  He handed her some tissues and placed his hand tenderly on her shoulder.

  “Yes, your father did love you, Lacey. He loved you from the moment he knew you were on the way, so to speak. He was adamant from the start that you would be in his life, a part of his family. I’m sorry that Lillian didn’t feel likewise, but these were unusual circumstances. Life was different, society was different. It would have been difficult. But I thought through the years that she had accepted the situation. I’m sure your father felt that, too.” He scratched his head and did not know what else to say, so he walked back around the table.

  Lacey stood up. Her eyes held brightness; a new spark had ignited behind them as she leaned in towards him. She rested both hands on the desk and peered down at him like a schoolmistress addressing her class of children, her stance defiant in its position.

  “You knew my father well? I mean, you knew him outside of this office? You were friends, weren’t you? Tell me what you know please, everything, anything. I want to know it all. I want to know my real mother, I want to find her.” The words gushed out full of strength and determination.

  Hope was written all over her face. She glanced at the name block on his desk: Mr. P C Sherman.

  “What does the C stand for Mr. Sherman?” she asked.

  “Clarke. Philip Clarke Sherman,” he sighed. Why did he feel he had been found out? He hadn’t seen his role in the adoption as anything other than work, but it meant everything to the girl in front of him. How could he help her? He didn’t have all the answers she sought, but he guessed she wouldn’t leave things be until he told her all he did know.

  Philip Sherman sensed a difficult afternoon lay ahead, and a headache that would throb and bother him until late into the evening.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AUGUST

  Robert kept thinking back to the night when he and Sally had chatted. It had been strange sitting in the family home without either of his parents walking in or making a noise somewhere else in the house. But it had been a defining moment of sorts. It had brought home to him that both his parents were now indeed gone, no longer there to share a laugh with him, or solve a problem, or to simply have a cup of coffee with. The next generation was moving up; possibly he would be the parent next.

  Sally surprised him with her resilience. She was an amazing person and he felt he had never really known that before. While he was growing up and finishing school, she had already been away on her journeys around the world. All he knew of her trips were the postcards she sent home and the short unannounced visits when she surprised the family, before striking off again on another expedition.

  Robert had never considered travelling the world. He had inherited Lillian’s drive and ambition to do well. His father had been a success in the business world, but Robert wanted more and he had worked hard since leaving university.

  Now he acknowledged that if the family was to stay united, it would be Sally who would hold them. She would be the one who would whip them into shape without any of them even realising it. Not Willow; she wouldn’t even come close to it, he acknowledged.

  This morning when he came to the office, he had brought with him a photograph he’d got from Sally’s – a lovely picture of his three sisters linking arms and laughing. Aoife had been impressed when she saw it, although she’d teased him a little that most men put a wife or girlfriend on their desk, not a photo of their sisters! The snap had been taken on a summer evening, but he couldn’t remember when and for what occasion. Placing it on his desk stirred up happy memories and reminded him that, despite the shock of Lacey’s true parentage, she was still his sister and he loved her. The realisation spurred him into action. He would take her out to a meal tonight and they could talk and catch up. He still felt lousy about not returning her call last week.

  He would clear the paperwork on his desk this morning and then make arrangements with Lacey. Yes, he thought, life was beginning to return to
normal. With a feeling of satisfaction, he tackled his workload, humming quietly as he signed off on contracts, tidied up loose ends, and arranged meetings overseas.

  Aoife brought him in coffee. It was only when she offered to get some lunch that Robert realised how quickly the time had slipped by. She was a life-saver; if it wasn’t for Aoife, he would often go without eating during the working day. She was more than a good personal assistant, more than a good friend. He enjoyed her company, looked forward to their times together out of the office. Was it love? Could she really be the one?

  By six-thirty, Robert had completed a great day’s work, and felt better than he had in ages. Now he had time for Lacey.

  “Hey, Sis, how’s it going? What you up to?”

  “Oh Rob, how are things? I’m not doing anything, what about you? Any news?”

  “Nope, just got a shitload of work done. I meant to ring you back. Sorry about that.”

  “So have you seen the others lately?” she asked.

  “Ah, not seen Willow, but I was speaking to Sally briefly a while back.” He thought it better not to tell her he’d been for supper and stayed overnight. She might not understand.

  “Anyway, what about we meet for a catch-up? Are you free tonight?” she suggested, expecting him to back out.

  “Sure. That would be good.”

  “Perfect. How about eight-thirty, at O’Reilly’s?”

  * * *

  Grabbing a quick shower, Lacey got ready. She picked out her favourite red top with the pussy bow collar, and her white jeans. She applied a little mascara and some lippy, then closed the door behind her. She felt and looked good. Meeting at O’Reilly’s suited her, as it was near enough for her to walk.

  It was difficult for her to stay bitter towards Robert. Hearing his voice had melted the anger and suspicion she had harboured earlier. She had missed their chats, and she felt silly about being cross with him. Sally was his sister, too, so why shouldn’t he visit her? Maybe Sally had needed his wise words as much as Lacey did.