The atmosphere in the car was icy. The heavy silence felt like a physical force around his shoulders and his throat, and he opened the window. This need for air was suffocating him, he couldn’t get enough. He dare not speak to his sister; what would he say? How could she humiliate him like that? He had stood up for her in the past, but no more, he promised himself. His driving reflected his anger, speeding up as they approached amber traffic lights instead of taking caution, blasting the horn at other motorists who annoyed him. How could Willow sit there, all calm and content and acting the victim?
They had not spoken since they left the office. Her steely presence dominated the small confines of the car. Robert’s emotions were so mixed up right now, and she was acting like she was the injured party. He just wanted to get her home and put distance between them until he calmed down. He didn’t want to speak now; he couldn’t speak, he was sure his voice would squeak like a child. Drawing up outside her home, he veered with a sudden swerve into the driveway.
“What a morning! Wait until Derek hears about the scandalous behaviour of that solicitor. What a stupid, stupid man. I’m sure there is somewhere we can lodge a complaint about his conduct. I need a lie down, so I won’t invite you in, Robert. Oh and Robert? Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”
Willow stomped out without waiting for a reply, slamming the car door behind her. Robert sat stunned. He took in the anger blazing in her eyes as she haughtily nodded her goodbye. Then, turning back towards the house, she walked purposefully away.
He had been dismissed. Rob’s outrage was eating him up and he pulled out into the traffic, not knowing where he was headed for. Was this the type of man he was? One whose mother and sister could dictate his life? Was it true what Lacey had said, that Willow was a mirror-image of Lillian? It certainly seemed that way! Maybe Joe Taylor had good reason for his carry-on. Life is never black and white, only many shades of grey. Slight appreciation for his father and what he may have endured began to creep into his heart.
Robert phoned Aoife to explain that he would not be in the office today, but promised to tell her more over dinner later. He drove the car aimlessly, eventually heading towards the coast. His disgust had softened a little, and a walk on the beach would be welcome.
The salty air filled his lungs as he stepped from the car. He took a deep breath in and the loud exhale disappeared into the open space. He watched the usual high jinks of the seagulls twirling over the foamy waves, shrieking their calls to each other as the sky filled with their exchanges. An elderly couple walked hand-in-hand along the strand.
Rob set off for the cliff path. He needed to feel the strong sea breeze on him; it would clear his thoughts and sieve out the good from the bad. Climbing higher on the moss-covered path, the thundering waves crashed with anger beneath him, the taste of brine on his lips from the fresh spray distracting his thoughts from Willow to more pleasant memories of family day outs when they were small. “When we were still a family,” he said aloud.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The old newspapers, the yellowing corners tattered in places, were spread out on the sitting room floor. Drinking her morning coffee, Sally was looking at them again. There must be a reason why these papers had been kept. They were all from the same year, but various months, so what was the common denominator?
As Sally laid each paper in its own spot on the floor, she took note that it was only the front page and the features section of the broadsheets that had been saved. She reckoned the front page was to verify the dates of the papers, and whatever part of the puzzle they were not seeing was in the features section. She settled down to read the scattered pages once more, from top to bottom, inside and out.
Lacey had arranged to call over that afternoon and they were going to comb through them again together, but Sally continued to make notes while she pored over the pages. The date on them was the year after Lacey’s birth. There was nothing major on the front page – Government news, a suspicious death in London, an advertisement for some gents’ outfitters. Checking the other front pages, they had similar stories; nothing that would connect to Joe Taylor or Lacey. Sally was convinced she was right in thinking the front pages had been saved just to verify the dates. There must be something inside – an article, or photo, or whatever. If only they had something to go on.
Sipping her coffee, she flicked through the old papers – a spread of wedding dresses; a new shop opening; latest styles from abroad now available in Ireland. There were photos of designers and models enjoying champagne, the top business people of the day all attending.
As Sally read about pearls and sequins, chiffon and lace, she became lost in thoughts of her own. She had always thought she would meet the man of her dreams while on her travels. She believed in a soul-mate; ‘what is for you won’t pass you’ was her motto. But so far, she had not met anyone who ticked all the right boxes. Had she set the bar too high? Some of the men she had encountered so far had been lovely guys, but as a couple they had lacked chemistry. She enjoyed their company, they had made her laugh; others had wined and dined her, and really romanced her; some she had truly given her heart to. But always, a niggling doubt about the next step of commitment held her back. Was this a throw-back from her parents? Had she seen something in their marriage that had slipped into her psyche unawares? She had always believed her parents’ marriage to be solid, and in ways it had been. But the secret that they shared must have hung between them every day.
Alongside thoughts of settling down, Sally felt a different pull on her emotions. Not feelings of love or longing for companionship, but a longing for freedom. She was getting itchy feet again; living in one spot for too long was closing in on her. She needed change.
Shaking herself, she concentrated once more on the pages before her. Opening another section, she saw again the news spread about the new shop, with photos of VIPs and dignitaries. “I wonder…” she muttered, and grabbed another paper. Yes, there it was, “Blushing Brides” again, staring at her. A similar article ran in another paper, and in another.
Was there some connection between the shop and Lacey? She felt a frisson of excitement tingling her fingers and toes, but Sally wouldn’t allow it to take over. Should she phone Lacey with her suspicions? What if she was wrong? But it made sense, it was the only thing that connected all the papers and it was close to Lacey’s year of birth. Definitely, “Blushing Brides” was important.
Maybe Mr. Sherman could shed some light on the subject. Of course, she could just Google the shop and see if it was still in existence. No, better to wait until Lacey called over. It would be wonderful if they uncovered a part of her birth mother’s identity together.
Sally was thoroughly enjoying playing detective. Travelling alone had heightened her sense of observation. With her, safety was always paramount on her trips and she was naturally attentive to her surroundings. That same perception and vigilant eye was proving useful now.
She was starting to fix some lunch when her phone rang.
“Hey, Sally, are you able to talk?” The words gushed out at her before she could even say hello.
“Rob, what’s up? Yeah, I can talk. Are you okay?” He sounded agitated, his voice breathless.
“Could you meet me here at the office? I’ll get a sandwich in for you.”
It sounded important; worry edged its way into her mind.
“Can’t do I’m afraid, I’m waiting on Lacey to call over, and I don’t want to miss her. Can we meet later?” Sally could tell he was anxious by the way he spoke. Not more bad news, please, she prayed in silence.
“Okay, I suppose so. You’ll drop by this evening then, ‘bout six? How is Lacey? I haven’t seen her since the restaurant debacle.”
Rob’s guilt at not contacting his young sister could be heard in his voice.
“Still fretting about things. This has really shaken her. Willow doesn’t help, and she’s been really unsettled since–”
“God! Don’t mention Willow! That
’s what I want to talk to you about,” he snapped.
“Oh, is she okay? What’s happened?”
“I’ll fill you in tonight. I’m beginning to think she really is deranged.” Robert’s voice was a secretive whisper, but Sally realised he probably didn’t want to be overheard in the office.
“Oh God, this should be good,” groaned Sally. “See you tonight.”
She wondered what Willow had been up to now. Robert’s reaction had surprised her. He could normally handle Willow, so it must be something big if he was calling her a nut job. What an entertaining day lay ahead! The bridal shop thingy, if she was right, and Rob’s tale of woe about Willow – that should keep her occupied. Between playing detective for one sibling and counsellor to another, Sally felt her career options shifting continuously. She chuckled at her own humour.
* * *
The bundle of newspapers Lacey had taken home with her had yielded nothing. Well, nothing she could detect, anyway. They were dated two years after her birth, but she couldn’t figure out why they had been kept. Travelling over to Sally, she hoped her sister might have discovered a clue.
The afternoon was bright; the sun blazing in the sky, children laughing and playing outdoors, a positive energy and buzz in the late summer days. Lacey thought about the task ahead with Sal. It was a shame to be locked indoors on such a lovely day. Maybe they could break off for a while and have a stroll in the local park.
As she parked and got out of her car, Lacey was in an upbeat mood.
“Hi, Sally, I brought some fresh strawberries with me. With the sun out and the fruit, I still feel really summerish.” Successive warm days were a rarity in Ireland. The people were more in tune with wet, gloomy, damp weather.
“Great! I have some ice cream but no cream. Any luck with the papers?”
Sally didn’t want to mention her own thoughts yet, in case Lacey had discovered anything. The more her little sister discovered on her own, the better. It would help give her control over her life and regain confidence if she was dictating her circumstances, after suffering such a terrible shock.
“Not a thing, Sal. Then again, I didn’t know what I was looking for. I think I over-scrutinized everything, if that’s possible.” Lacey’s voice held a tone of weariness and frustration.
While Sally filled two bowls with the fruit and ice cream, Lacey grabbed the spoons. They strolled out to the garden, the sunshine soothing, a soft breeze tickling their bare shoulders.
“What about you, any luck?” Lacey asked, scooping some dessert onto her spoon.
“I may have.” Sally glanced at her sister for a reaction. The spoon fell from Lacey’s hand onto her lap. Ice cream smeared her clothes.
“Really? Oh Sal, what? What have you discovered? Tell me, please tell me.”
“It’s only a hunch, but did Mr. Sherman give you any idea about your mum’s career?”
“No, nothing.” Lacey’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Finish your ice cream and we’ll take a look then,” Sally teased.
Watching Lacey gulping down her desert, Sally realised her young sister was still growing up. The poor girl had had more to contend with already than most would ever endure in a lifetime.
“Finished. Please, Sal, tell me.” Lacey was bouncing with enthusiasm, like a five-year-old being offered a treat for being good. She had ice cream smeared on her chin, and her face was alight with excitement. Sally couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, as I was going through the papers, one particular event was in all of them,” Sal explained, leading the way back indoors.
Grabbing some kitchen paper, she gave a piece to Lacey and indicated to her chin.
“Go on.” The young girl wiped her face and followed Sally into the room.
“There’s an opening of a designer bridal shop, and all the VIPs and dignitaries of the day attended.” Sally found the feature in one of the editions and showed it to Lacey.
“Wow, a designer,” muttered Lacey, as she sank into the armchair. Her eyes searched the photos. Was this her first clue to her birth mother? Could this be the link that would start the chain of events to find her mum? Her eyes were glued to the papers, scouring each page, and letting it all sink in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By the time Willow woke from her previous night’s sleep, it was almost dark outside again. She felt funny. The sleep had been more like a coma than a snooze.
“Derek?” she called out to the silent house.
What time was it? She searched for her watch on the locker, but it wasn’t there. She tried to focus, but her thoughts were all jumbled. She was half-dressed and light was fading fast outside her window. Her stomach rumbled. When had she last eaten?
Throwing her dressing gown on over her clothes, Willow decided she needed some coffee.
“Derek, are you home?” she called out again. Still no reply.
On the kitchen table was a note in her husband’s handwriting, ‘Gone out for a bite to eat, back later, x.’
She made a pot of coffee and sat alone in the dark kitchen. The silence in the house seemed to scream out at her. It had an empty, lonely feeling about it that unsettled her. How often had she sat alone here before and never been bothered by it? This felt different. A strange uneasiness was present and for the first time ever, she worried where her life was heading. The house was too damn big, yet it still felt claustrophobic.
Was this the life she had waiting for her? Empty years filled with nothing? She knew she was slipping into a depression, but the ache inside her from Lillian’s death was growing each day. The empty space in her heart was filling with longing and it hurt. It hurt so badly.
Was there any need for her to go on? It would be so easy to close her eyes forever and then this misery would cease. Derek would cope. She believed that without question. She could be with her dear mum again. Lillian’s smiling face flashed before Willow.
“Mum, I need you so much,” she cried out to the silent house. Her voice echoed in the bleakness of her surroundings.
“I don’t want to stay here,” she mumbled, and quickly dashed upstairs.
A change of clothes and fresh make-up, and Willow stepped out into the night air. It took several deep breaths to settle her and she started to walk. This was exactly what she needed: to be outside, to clear her head and settle her emotions.
Derek could wait. She was annoyed with him. He could have wakened her and the two of them could have gone for a meal together. He hadn’t shown an ounce of interest in including her in his plans for the evening, so she could do the same. Strolling along, she checked her phone. No missed calls. So he definitely hadn’t intended to include her. There was one text message from Robert; a brief We need to talk flashed on the screen.
Robert. There was another man who needed a strong woman behind him. Aoife was a nice young lady but did she have the stamina needed to push Robert in the right direction? Willow had doubts. The events from the solicitor’s office blazed in her mind, and the rubbish that awful man had spouted about her mother. The few shots of vodka she had downed when she returned home had calmed her anger a little.
Love child? Talk about turning a sow’s ear into a silk purse. There had been no love involved, she was sure of it. Her father’s head had been turned by some jumped-up tramp who wanted a sugar daddy for herself. Nothing more!
She must have been a smart jumped-up tramp, all the same. After getting pregnant, she obviously persuaded the old fool to raise the child! Willow almost smiled when she realised that Lacey’s mother may have been shrewd in her actions. Maybe she was another woman who was strong, like Lillian and Willow. Why, if she squeezed hard enough into her heart, she even found an inch of admiration for how the tramp had pulled the sordid thing off. The lit-up sign of a taxi caught her eye. Climbing in, she told him to take her to a bar suitable for a woman of her age and standing.
Arriving at the bar, she thought she really should text Derek. An entire day was almost over and she had mi
ssed most of it. Looking around her, there were couples chatting and sharing the night together. Taking out her mobile phone, she text the name of the pub to him and asked him to join her. She waited, sipping her drink.
* * *
Finding the house still in darkness on his return, Derek didn’t bother to check on Willow. The highlights from the latest Open Golf tournament were on, his phone was in his coat pocket on the hallstand, and his wife must still be asleep upstairs. If he was honest with himself, he was relieved at not having to deal with her now. He was also ashamed at even having that thought.
* * *
Robert was waiting for Sally to call over. It had been a crazy few days, although the walk on the beach had cooled his temper. He was not used to having his whole life view challenged but, since the will reading, the world as he knew it had changed beyond recognition.
The family was disintegrating at breakneck speed. He needed to take charge and find out what they needed to know, or at least clear the air between them. His family was crumbling and he was determined to stop it. He and Sal could decide on an agenda and tackle matters together. It felt good to him to have focus again
He couldn’t recall what time Sally said she would call over. Maybe he should phone Derek and include him, too. He would probably be the best one to handle Willow and he’d already said he was desperate to understand his wife. Good luck to him on that one! Willow had shown what a force of strength she could be when challenged.
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