by A. O'Connor
“There’s always money, Nico, it just ebbs and flows to different people, that’s all. And it looks like it’s about to flow back to the Armstrong-Collins family. Any plans what to do with it?”
He looked at her and nodded. “Yes, I want to make an offer for the house.”
“The Fallon house?” said Janet, licking her lips at the prospect of a second big sale on the same day.
“Yes – Armstrong House. I would like to offer seven hundred and fifty thousand for it.”
“Seven hundred and fifty thousand!” Janet exclaimed. “But that’s only half of what the Fallons paid for it when it was a wreck, and before they spent all that money doing it up.”
“I know, but as you know it’s a crashed market and it’s all I have to offer.”
“Well, I know but –”
“Come on, Janet, you could be sitting on that house for years in this market and then not get what I’m offering today.”
“Well, I’ll have to check it with the receivers. It’s their decision obviously.” She took out her mobile and went off to make a phone call. She arrived back a few minutes later.
“It looks like we have ourselves a deal. They accepted your offer.”
Nico smiled happily.
“You’re just a speculator, Nico,” snapped Janet huffily.
“No – I’m just bringing the house back into the family – where it belongs.”
Chapter One Hundred and seven
Kate was back in Dublin having managed to secure a role ina film being shot on location in the city. She had just finished filming a scene and was in her dressing room waiting for a journalist to interview her about the movie. There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” said Kate and the door opened and in walked the woman journalist. Kate immediately recognised her from the photo in Hunter’s Farmas being Nico’s wife Susan.
“Hi, Kate, I’m Susan Collins from The Times.”
They shook hands.
Kate nodded and smiled at her. “I just want to make sure my agent made it clear I won’t talk about my deceased husband Tony or his business, only the film I’m making.”
“Yes,” said Susan with a chuckle, sitting down. “Your agent made that very clear indeed.”
“Sorry,” apologised Kate. “I’m just asked so much about it, and I don’t want to talk about it at all.”
“Understandable,” said Susan, taking out her miniature tape recorder and turning it on.
They spent half an hour talking about the film and then Susan concluded the interview and turned off the recorder.
Kate looked at her curiously. “You’re Nico’s ex-wife, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. You bought the house in the country from us,” stated Susan, surprised Kate knew who she was.
“How is he?” asked Kate.
“Very well actually. You know Nico – never gets too excited about anything, or never gets too down either. Always on an even keel.” She pulled a humorous face.
“That’s a good way to be. I’ve learned to be more like that myself . . .I always felt he hoped you two would get back together?”
“Well, there’s no chance of that. I’m getting married again.” Susan flashed her engagement ring.
“Oh, congratulations!”
“I haven’t told Nico yet.”
“I wonder how he’ll take it?”
“Our daughter Alex was always singing your praises when she met you,” said Susan. “Thank you for being so kind to her.”
“It was no trouble. She’s lovely . . . like her father. Some woman will be very lucky to have Nico.”
Susan looked at her, suddenly aware. “Yes, she will . . .I hope he finds what he’s looking for someday. Why don’t you ring him up now you’re back in Ireland? I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear from you.”
“Just tell him I was asking after him when you speak to him next.”
Alex was on her school holidays and Nico was driving them down to Armstrong House to spend the vacation there. It was the first time Alex had been at the house since he’d bought it, and he was excited about showing it to her. Since buying the house he hadn’t spent that much time there. He had been too busy in Dublin, working hard on the architect business.
Alex was now fifteen and as she wisecracked all the way down he couldn’t help but marvel at how grown-up she had become.
“Well – what do you think?” Nico asked as he put on the kettle in the kitchen to make them a cup of tea.
She sat up at the island. “I feel sorry for the Fallons,” she said. “All the work they put into this place, only to lose it.”
“I’d say that was the least of their problems.”
“Kate Fallon is back in the country.”
“Is she?” Nico was surprised.
“Yep – Mum interviewed her for the newspaper.”
“Really?” Nico was shocked.
“Yes – she’s making some film on location here. You were really friendly with her, weren’t you?”
“We – knew each other well, yes.”
“I remember her being very nice.”
“Well, she’s a very nice woman.”
“She goes by her acting name Kate Donovan again now.”
“Does she?”
“Well, I suppose there’s too much negativity attached to the Fallon name after everything that happened.”
“You read too many newspapers, Alex.”
“Mum said all Kate did was talk about you, singing your praises.”
“Did she really?” Nico was surprised.
“She must miss this house terribly.”
“I don’t know if all her memories here were good ones.”
“Mum really liked her. Said she was very interesting.”
“Kate is a very remarkable woman. I learned a lot about this house from her. I always took it and our family history for granted. But she didn’t. She was intrigued by it all . . . Now I’m more aware. Generations of our family lived here and now, one day, it will be yours as well – and you’ll keep the family line going here.”
“Such a big responsibility for my little shoulders,” she sighed dramatically.
“You’ll understand it one day,” he said, putting the tea in front of her and sitting opposite her.
“Dad – I’ve something to tell you . . . Mum’s getting married again.”
“Oh!” He was shocked.
“To an editor at the paper.”
“Right!”
“He’s very nice, and she’s very happy. And I really like him.”
“Well, I suppose that’s the main thing!” He nodded.
“Mum’s going to phone you this week to tell you herself. But I thought I’d tip you off.”
“Very thoughtful of you.”
“So what are you going to do now?” she quizzed.
He looked startled. “About Mum?”
“No, with your life!”
“What do you mean – what am I going to do now? Nothing!”
“Hmmm, I was afraid of that. The fact is I don’t think you’ve really moved on from the marriage. I think you felt the bond was still there, through me and everything.”
“Is that a fact?” he said sarcastically.
“And I suppose you’re both so fond of each other, you might have even thought you might get back together again one day.”
“That’s rubbish, Alex – you don’t know anything about it.” Nico was getting annoyed.
“Anyway, I think you need to get on with your life.”
“When I need advice from you, Alex, I’ll ask for it.”
“Well, I mean, what are you going to do with the rest of your life? Spend it rattling around this house all on your own?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Well, maybe you should.”
“Thank you! Now what do you want to do this evening?”
“Kate’s very cool. All my friends love her. They couldn’t believe it when I told th
em you were friends with her.”
“I used to be a friend of hers, Alex. I don’t know her anymore.”
“Well – you could change that. She’s at the same phone number incidentally.”
“Alex –”
“No need to say another word! By the way, Mum wants you to attend her wedding.”
“Great! I really can’t wait for that day!” said Nico sarcastically.
Chapter One Hundred and eight
Alexwalked down the aisle after the bride. The church was filled with guests. She saw her father and smiled at him. He smiled back at her. Alex had been worried he might become emotional on the day, but he seemed happy.
The bride reached the top of the aisle and Alex quickly got to her post, straightening out the bride’s long wedding train. The groom winked at his bride and took his position beside her.
“You’re all very welcome here today,” began the priest, “to celebrate the marriage of Kate and Nico.”
“It’s not too late to back out,” Nico whispered to Kate as the priest continued.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I never believe in walking off until a scene is finished,” Kate whispered back and squeezed his hand.
In the congregation two of the guests were having a whispered conversation.
“Let’s hope this husband has a luckier time of it than her last one,” said one of the women.
“They seem in love though,” said the other woman.
“Don’t forget she’s an actress by profession! I think it’s a rebound job myself. Him getting over the ex-wife remarrying and her getting over Tony’s death. I mean they’ve only known each other five minutes.”
“No – he’s known Kate for years. He renovated the house for herself and Tony.”
“Well, I don’t know – the ownership of that house has been passed back and forth between the two of them like a game of tennis – and now they are both ending up living in it together! Deuce! It’s more a love affair with the house than each other, if you ask me. Neither could bear to leave it!”
The priest pronounced them husband and wife and Nico leaned forward and kissed Kate. They made their way down the aisle quickly and confetti was thrown as they left the small church in the little village near Armstrong House.
Outside, the wedding party was gathered in the sunshine as Kate and Nico accepted congratulations and posed for photos.
“Well, I have to hand it to Kate – you could shove her in a tub of shit and she’d still come up smelling of roses!” said one male guest to another outside the church.
“What do you mean?” asked the other man.
“Well, let’s face it – a couple of years ago she’d lost her Tony, lost her house, lost her career and owed millions. Now look at her – she somehow managed to weasel out of all that debt, her career is back on track, married to a lovely new husband, and even got her house back!”
“Ah well, Kate’s been through a terrible time with everything. It would have broken a lesser person. She deserves a bit of happiness now. And besides she’s changed a lot. She doesn’t go to premieres and parties anymore. She told me she was happy just being with Nico here at home in the house.”
The two men looked at Alex as she moved from guest to guest, chatting happily.
“Nico’s daughter seems to be quite a character.”
“Ah,” said the other man smiling, “my family have known the Armstrongs for generations. Alex’s surname might be Collins, but she’s an Armstrong through and through. Come on, it looks like we’re off back to the house for the reception.”
Kate and Nico’s car led the caravan of vehicles around by the lake and up to the house. As their car stopped, they both got out and the photographer arranged them in a pose infront of the house.
Nico started laughing. “I was just thinking of a wedding I was at recently and somebody commented the bride was something new, to the groom, something old due to her advancing age, something borrowed as she had been married to the groom’s best friend previously, and something blue – she had a rather morose nature!”
Kate started laughing with him. “I never thought about that when I was getting ready.” She touched Clara’s brooch she was wearing. “I suppose this brooch fills all the requirements for the day too – something new, to me . . . something old . . . and something borrowed, from Clara . . . and something blue, a relic from an unhappy marriage. But now it’s going to be a symbol of a happy one.”
And as the other guests arrived, Nico and Kate led them up the red carpet through the front door and intothe house.
Epilogue - 1940
Pierce and his wife Joan walked out on to the airfield at Dublin airport where the small passenger plane was waiting. Joan was holding their twelve-month-old daughter Jacqueline. He was dressed in his officer’s uniform. It felt strange but somehow right to be back in uniform.
“I don’t know why you have to go to this war,” Joan said in a final protest. “You’ve done your part in the last war. This isn’t your fight, it’s the next generation’s. And Ireland is neutral and isn’t even in the war!”
“I’ve told you before, I have invaluable experience to offer them,” he said.
If the truth be known, Pierce was excited by the prospect. It was as if he had been waiting for the last twenty years for this to happen again. He had spent nearly two decades pen-pushing at the British embassy in Dublin. Twenty years seeing his role in life ebbing away. No longer a respected peer in this new country. His beloved house in the country practically destroyed. His looks gradually fading, and the attention they brought and which he took for granted lost. Years of thinking about the past and what had gone wrong. And then he had met Joan at a ball two years ago. She was the daughter of a Dublin businessman and a renowned beauty. There was a restlessness about her that night as if she was searching for something in the same way Clara had been the night he had met her. And when they were introduced, it was like she had found what she was looking for in Pierce. She reminded him so much of Clara. And it was like he was being given his youth back, another chance. And with the war approaching, it was as if time was repeating itself.
Joan was determined not to cry. She knew Pierce hated scenes and tears. Everyone told her she was mad for marrying Pierce Armstrong. They said he was cold and selfish. And he was all those things, she had to admit. But with her, he struggled to be something else as well. Often not succeeding, but he did try.
“I’ve been to the solicitor and everything is taken care of if anything happens to me,” he said.
“Pierce, don’t!” pleaded Joan.
“Yourself and Jacqueline will be looked after, everything goes to you. Such as it is, mainly the house in the country and what’s left of the farm.You can call on Prudence if you need anything.”
Joan pulled a face. “I’d rather not!”
He stared at her and then managed to smile and bent forward and kissed her.
“Will you phone me when you arrive in London later?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Will you be home for Christmas?” she asked.
He thought of the rude response he had given Clara when she asked that in the last war. He nodded and said, “I’ll try.”
He kissed her again and then Jacqueline before quickly walking up the steps and into the plane. He took his seat by the window and looked out at his wife and child on the airfield, waving. He smiled at them and waved back as the plane’s propellers started and the plane began to taxi down the airstrip. He would be stationed a few days in London and then next week he would be in France on active duty trying to stop the German advance. Life had given him a second chance.
Clara held the envelope nervously, looking at the neatly typed address on the front. She looked at her watch and saw it was nearly two in the afternoon. Slipping the envelope into the pocket of her cardigan, she walked over to the mirror in the sitting room and smoothed down her pale silvery-blonde hair, and checked her appearance. Her visitor
was now nearly an hour late and she anxiously looked out the window down the parklands of the country house in Kent she had inherited from her grandmother, Louisa.
She picked up the newspaper on the coffee table with headlines about the war, and leafed through the pages. She stopped when she found the photo of Pierce with his young wife and a baby girl in the society pages and read the caption underneath: ‘Lord Armstrong with his wife Joan and their daughter Jacqueline’.
As she heard a car approach, she folded over the newspaper. She went quickly to the front door, opened it and rushed to the man who approached her, smiling, and enveloped him in a hug.
“You look younger every day,” he said happily as they went intothe sitting room.
“Everyone says you have become a charmer, but choose your audiences more carefully. I’m immune to flattery!” she said grinning, as they both sat down on the couch and she took the hand of her eighteen-year-old son James.
“Nobody is immune to flattery,” he said, grinning back.
“Howwere your final exams?”
“Not too bad. I think I scraped by.”
She reached into her pocket, took out the letter and nervously handed it over to him. “This arrived for you in this morning’s post.”
“I know what this is,” he said and he looked at her worried expression before adding, “And so do you.”
She nodded and he quickly tore it open and read the letter inside, before looking at her and smiling. “The Royal College of Surgeons . . .accept me as a student!”
“James!” Clara hugged him tightly. “I’ve been that worried all morning, such a relief!” She shook her head in delight. “You’ll make an excellent doctor, just like my brothers.”
He folded the letter away intothe envelope. “It might have to be delayed with the war. I might be drafted.”
“Oh James, don’t say that!” All Clara’s horrible memories of the last war were haunting her since this new war had started. “You’re far more use as a medic in the war than a soldier. Much better to try and save lives,” she said imploringly.
