My Husband's Sin

by Mary T Bradford

  “This is fantastic, Willow. Sweet potato and lamb, hmmm, smells divine!”

  In the centre of the table was a large jug of iced water with sprigs of rosemary in it. No wine bottle.

  “I’d like us to talk, Derek, really talk. See, no wine, just water. I’m...I’m sure our situation lately hasn’t been fun for either of us. So maybe over dinner we can discuss how we made mistakes and how we can get back on track, do you agree?” Willow sounded positive and upbeat, she was in a forgiving mood. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?

  Cooking always improved her mood. She loved the whole ritual of preparing and cooking meals and then serving them to appreciative guests.

  The food was excellent and they ate in almost silence.

  “You really excelled yourself, Willow. So you want to talk? I think we need to, too. I’ve been worried about you. I know you’re grieving and at times it has been difficult for you, but I’m delighted you’ve turned the corner and are back on track, so to speak.” Derek smiled and gently laid his hand on top of hers. He knew he would accept the apology that she was going to offer next.

  “Well yes, of course I’m grieving, Derek. It is still early days in my book and, as you say, life’s been difficult. It was on those occasions that I felt most let down by you.”

  “Let down? What do you mean?” He sounded shocked, his tone was icy, a look of disbelief on his face.

  “You appeared to put your work first. Some nights I needed you to be here at home, but I didn’t have you to talk to.”

  “Willow, I have to work. I never put work first, you know that, but we are in a recession – you may have noticed. Any business we get, I need to grab with both hands.” Derek stopped speaking and held up his hands. “I’m listening, Willow. Talk away, you go first. I’m sorry.”

  Willow poured some water for herself, wishing it was vodka. She glanced at Derek; he wasn’t being as cooperative as she had expected. Her annoyance bubbled.

  “I know there’s a recession,” she snapped, “but I need you, too. Look, Derek, I may have been a touch awkward at times since Mum’s death, but at least I’ve had a reason. I don’t understand why you have been so touchy and inconsiderate. I mean, Robert showed loyalty to me when Lacey accosted me at the restaurant. I have been stressed since that, too, and then not getting the golf invite. Our social standing has taken a knock. I’m not saying it’s my entire fault, but Lacey, the little smug bitch, had her input there with that awful behaviour. I mean, I get assaulted and she plays the victim!”

  She looked at Derek and he seemed to be listening. She wasn’t sure from the expression on his face whether he agreed or not, but at least he was letting her talk. So she continued talking, desperate to get it all off her chest. Once she had, he would see sense and apologise properly. It was just a matter of getting her point across, she reasoned to herself.

  * * *

  Derek looked at his wife. He didn’t know the woman sitting across the table from him; this was a stranger. So far, she had blamed everyone around her. It was all so bloody ridiculous.

  With a heavy heart, he sipped his water and let her ramble on. Should he see the evening through, or get up and walk now? It was late and he really didn’t want an argument. For an easy life, he would see the night through, but he had a lot of serious thinking to do.

  She was totally oblivious to any of his feelings, he realised. How had he not noticed her true character before? Had he turned a blind eye to it through love? What were his feelings for this woman now?

  He sighed. He found his life tiresome; the constant struggle was taking its toll on him. He would phone Robert and apologise for his outburst, let him be the big man and worry about his sister. She was all Rob’s; Derek would be hassle-free.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  OCTOBER

  He woke to the sound of gushing water; a sweet scent filled his bedroom. Relaxing back on his pillows, Rob Taylor felt good. He smiled as he listened to Aoife’s soft quiet humming as she towelled herself. Their relationship had moved forward and both were happy, it felt right.

  “Morning, honey.” He admired the beautiful woman who stood before him. “I could get used to this,” he added, with a wicked smile playing on his mouth.

  “Used to what, Rob?” Aoife was busy moisturising her shoulders, the towel slipping a little as she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Waking up to a gorgeous woman in my shower, and then she proceeds to seduce me as she sits on my bed.” He reached over and tenderly ran his fingers down her arm.

  “Some of us must get to work,” she laughed. “Not everyone has the perk of using ‘I’m the boss and I’m allowed to be late’, you know.” Slipping on her grey pencil skirt and cashmere sweater, she busied herself in getting ready. He watched as she carefully applied her make-up and then put on her black kitten heels.

  “True, so true,” he murmured, again admiring the delicious curves of her body.

  Driving to Aoife’s house the night he argued with Derek had been the best decision he’d ever made. She had been there for him while he opened up about his fears and anger, and anything else that came to mind. He had been so raw after it all, and she’d held him as exhaustion took over. Her arms had been comforting; her gentle soothing words reassuring him it was okay to have such a mixed bag of emotions.

  Their kisses that night had been of longing, but she’d refused to sleep with him. She explained he needed to sort out his confused thoughts with a good night’s rest. But last night their hunger for each other had taken over and their relationship had moved to another level.

  He hadn’t been in contact with any of his sisters, and the world had not collapsed because of it. No messages, no visits, no anything. It was so stress-free that he decided he should take Aoife abroad on a quick trip next week. Then he could face his family again, knowing this time he was not alone in facing any demons that awaited him.

  * * *

  Sally tried reaching Lacey again. It was unlike her not to reply at some point. She’d tried to contact Robert at his office and been told he was unavailable. When she phoned Willow, there was only an answering machine. What was with the Taylor family? Had they all disappeared or taken a vow of silence? Not so long ago they’d all been banging on her front door, falling apart, and pleading for help. She took one evening out to herself, and they abandoned her.

  Taking herself into town to stroll amongst the shoppers, she found a café and sat outside with her iced-tea. The outdoor heaters were in place, as the days had begun to shorten and a chill peppered the air. So many people rushed by, hurrying to wherever they needed to be, some on mobile phones, others striding at a fast pace, barely moving to avoid others.

  She admired the buildings around her, looking up at the different styles of architecture. There were clocks, large and small, alcoves hidden beneath rooftops, and carvings peeping out from eaves of other buildings. Such a wealth of history yet no-one was taking the time to look up.

  It stirred up the feelings she had experienced on the beach, the yearning for the open road and open country. She could rent out the house to give her an income while she travelled; Rob could keep an eye on it for her. The winter ahead didn’t seem so harsh now Sally knew she would be leaving. She would get her affairs in order and head back out into the world.

  The New Year, a new journey, and the prospects of discovering what the world had yet to offer, was both comforting and exciting. But the feel-good factor fizzled instantly as her brother-in-law appeared in front of her. Derek was unshaven and he had lost his polished appearance.

  “Good God, Derek, you look appalling. Here, sit before you fall down.” Her surprise at his appearance registered on her face.

  The man pulled up an empty chair and sat while she ordered him a coffee and a sandwich. His pale face was gaunt and there were stains on his tie. The shirt was crumpled, and it was obvious he had neither showered that morning nor slept in a bed last night.

  “Okay, Derek, want to tell me what�
�s happened? You look terrible, to put it mildly.” She indicated to him to eat the sandwich. People passing would probably assume she was helping out a person who was down on their luck, and who could blame them? He looked awful.

  Derek managed a weak smile and ran his hand through his ruffled hair.

  “Thanks, Sally, you were always the thoughtful one. I married the wrong sister,” he laughed gently.

  Ah, so Willow was behind this shocking appearance. Sally sat quietly. After a few mouthfuls, he looked more composed and a little colour had returned to his face.

  “I didn’t go home last night, Sal. I couldn’t. She has made it impossible to be there. I can do no right by her. I slept in my car,” his voice was a whisper full of shame. This morning, when he’d tried to go into their home, she had left her key in the inside lock to prevent him from getting in.

  “Derek, how bad are things? I mean, is this a once-off, the car last night? You should have called over, or even gone to Rob.”

  “Yeah sure, like Rob would be happy to see me,” a slightly bitter tone came through. He looked thoroughly fed up.

  “Look, is Willow sick, or just being awkward? What exactly is happening? I’m sure Rob would be happy to help Willow.” Sally thought briefly back to The Sea Horse incident.

  “He and I had a row – over Willow, surprise, surprise! Haven’t seen or heard from him since. Anyway, my wife is my priority, not Rob’s.” Derek’s angry look as he spoke convinced Sally not to mention her brother again.

  Mentally making a note to contact Rob later, she pushed the conversation back towards the current problem. “So, what was so bad at home that you couldn’t return?”

  “I went back to check Willow at lunchtime. She has been drinking a lot lately, so I’ve kept an eye on her. We had a talk not so long ago. Well, Willow did all the talking, if I’m honest. She is oblivious to the mayhem her actions are causing. I mean, provoking Lacey, her outburst at Sherman’s office, her boozy lunches and more boozy dinners. Anyhow, she copped that my visits home for lunch were more to observe rather than for her company. Yesterday she threw pots and vases at me, and accused me of pushing her to drink. I was the cause of everything, apparently. If she had a happy, loving marriage, she wouldn’t need her wine or vodka.” Derek ordered more coffee from a passing waitress. “Need I go on?”

  Sally nodded. She was trying to remember what the outburst at the solicitor’s office was that he’d referred to. There had been so much happening, she couldn’t keep up. So mental note number two, ask about the solicitors.

  “So, having ducked some cooking pots at lunchtime, I came home to find her passed out on the sofa. I tried to put her to bed, but she woke up and went for me. She verbally abused me, I’ll spare you the descriptive language she used, and then she started with her shoes.” He shook his head in disbelief at the memory.

  “Her shoes?” Sally asked, puzzled.

  “Throwing them. So I left the room and she followed me, her Jimmy Choos and Louboutins are in a heap at the end of the stairs. She screamed at me to get out and not return and I thought ‘not a bad idea’, so I did. I left and slept in the car last night. She was screaming how her mum would have understood her and that she would tell her when she saw her what we were doing to her! Weird, or what?”

  “Oh, Derek, what can I say? Dear God, talk about losing it. But Mum is only gone, what, three months or so, and the family is at each other’s throats.” All she could do was sigh.

  Their coffee cups sat untouched and cold. Sally looked across the table at the worn-out man before her. He wasn’t coping very well and, from what he told her, neither was Willow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Mr. Sherman would make a full recovery. He’d suffered a mild heart attack; a warning to slow down and watch his stress levels. Lacey sent a large basket of fruit and a card. She also phoned the hospital, but only family were allowed to visit.

  She felt responsible for his illness. She would call at his house once he was discharged, to apologise in person, and promise never to bother him again. In the meantime, she would press ahead with looking for her birth mum.

  She had tried to research the designer Cora Maguire but amazingly there was little known about her. The young designer from Cork had attended college in Dublin but was now living abroad. She lived a private life and never attended her own fashion shows, believing her dresses spoke for themselves. That accounted for her not being photographed in the press.

  Lacey desperately needed to find the missing letter from her father. She still had difficulty accepting that Lillian would have kept it from her. It would explain so much and save time, and surely it would hold the most important fact of all – the name of Lacey’s mother. She still had no confirmation that Cora Maguire was definitely her real mother.

  Sally had mentioned going through her mother’s belongings, so Lacey hoped that the letter had not been destroyed. If it had been, what had the letter taken with it? All the details of her birth and contacts for her mother, or the secret that Lillian refused to reveal as to why she’d agreed to Lacey living with them? Lacey feared another Taylor revelation. But if it had survived with Lillian, wouldn’t her sisters have found it when they’d cleared out her room? More blasted unanswered questions.

  Maybe Lillian hadn’t kept it at home? Had she a safety-deposit box somewhere? If so, had she ever told anyone? No, Philip Sherman would have mentioned that at the reading of the will. More visits to Sally were on the agenda. She might be able to recall their father’s arrangements when he died. Life was a bloody knotted mess right now, but Lacey could not rest easy until the answers were out and the loose ends in her life tidied up.

  “Sally, will you be home for the evening? I’d like to call over, if that’s okay?” Lacey was getting ready to head over as she called Sally on her mobile.

  “Sorry, not tonight. I’ve to go to Willow’s, she’s not doing too well. Erm...is it important, or could it wait until tomorrow?” Sally was keen to check Willow out for herself. She knew her elder sister could be volatile, but maybe her brother-in-law had been exaggerating events. Derek’s account of her behaviour was frightening, and Sally wanted to help if possible.

  “I was going to ask if I could have a look at some of Lillian’s stuff you kept. Philip Sherman mentioned another letter, that’s all. He’s going to be okay, too, by the way. Thank goodness. I understand if you’re busy...What’s up with Willow anyway?” She was curious now.

  “Oh, long story for the phone. What’s wrong with Mr. Sherman?” Sally couldn’t keep up with her younger sibling’s conversation.

  “Heart attack. Listen, I’ll catch up with you over the next few days, Sal, okay?” Lacey didn’t want to hassle her sister. She couldn’t recall Sally ever taking much time out for herself.

  “You have your own key for my place, Sis, so use it and go through what you like. If I’m home early from Derek and Willow’s, I’ll see you later. If not, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Lacey let herself into her old home. Sally had left a note on the hall table telling her to search wherever she wanted, so she went straight to Lillian’s bedroom. The room was immaculate. Her dressing-table was filled with her favourite perfumes and some photos. Two lavender sachets in soft muslin bags hung from the wardrobe door knobs. A heart-shaped cushion with purple trim sat on her bed. Embroidered in the centre in a softer purple was “World’s Best Mum”.

  Lacey felt like an intruder. She sniffed some perfume and in an instant felt Lillian’s presence. She padded on tip-toe around the bedroom. Sally had told her most of the stuff was stored in the walnut double wardrobe, so Lacey took a deep breath and opened the doors. Pulling out box after box, she decided to return each one to the wardrobe as she finished with it.

  Focusing on the job, she sorted letters and documents into piles – stuff that looked official, and bits that were not so important looking. There was paper everywhere. Old photos, receipts, programmes from Robert’s sports events,
and loads of articles that Lacey could not make any connection with. Two hours later, she had not found anything of importance. Her heart sank with disappointment.

  Glancing at her watch, it wasn’t too late so she would wait for Sally and see how her evening had gone. She was watching TV when her sister came home.

  Throwing her bag and jacket onto the chair, Sally plonked down on the sofa. She stretched her lean body to relax it. “Hey, Lacey, any luck?”

  “Nope, nothing. Tell me, how is Willow?”

  “In a bad way. Derek is all out of ideas and patience with her. The drinking is seriously an issue and because of her constant hangovers, she’s eating paracetamol by the packet. She refuses to see a doctor or counsellor, and honestly I can see Derek walking away from the marriage. I met him yesterday by chance and he looked homeless. He told me everything, but I had my doubts until I saw the evidence for myself tonight.” Sally’s voice was tired and she looked drained. She kicked off her shoes and curled up on the sofa.

  “Why was he so homeless-looking?” Lacey was puzzled.

  “Because our dear sister had locked him out and left him with no choice but to sleep in the car, then she refused to let him in to shower or change his clothes.”

  “So, what’s next?” Lacey was shocked at Sally’s words.

  “Drag Rob into it, I guess. She might listen to him. Apparently, she and Rob were at Sherman’s office recently and she lost the plot there. It bugged Rob and he ended up arguing with Derek, or something like that. Which reminds me, how’s Mr. Sherman? He’s in hospital you said?”

  Philip hadn’t mentioned to Lacey that Robert and Willow had visited him. Maybe that had played a part in him being ill, too, maybe it wasn’t all her fault. She might as well tell Sally what Philip had revealed to her.