He could call her beautiful all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he was the real pig.
“I bet you’re pretty excited about gettin’ off wit me. Your mam made it sound like you’ve been planning the wedding since you were a lass.”
“Mam must have been mistaken. My sister Angel was the one who wanted to get married.” Her admission sounded angrier than she had intended. Her face flushed. “I mean… I’m…”
Brian’s smug smile brightened. “It’s okay. I know you’re nervous around me. Most girls are.”
Helena bit back a laugh.
Brian reached over and touched the top of her hand. She held back the urge to recoil. “I was thinking about goin’ to Feile na Maighe. Do you want to go with me? It might be fun.”
Only that morning, she and Graham had been talking about the same festival and what it meant for the manor. Her heart ached as she thought of Graham, his rich brown eyes and the perfect cleft in his chin. Now she was going to the festival with another man. It was all so surreal.
Brian pointed at the brown paper bag on the ground next to the legs of her chair. “What’s that?”
Helena grimaced. “It’s my… it’s a bit of refuse.” She pushed the bag further under the chair with the heel of her shoe.
The book had only been hers for a few days, and it had already gone from a treasured gift to something she couldn’t bring herself to look upon.
Brian smiled. “I was thinking we could live at my family’s campsite for a bit. Then maybe we could head over to England. I got a line on a real good job from a friend who owns a construction business. The pay would be good and the work’s steady. We could make a real good go of it for ourselves.”
England? “How long would we stay?”
Brian held his palms up to the fire, warming his hands. The damp sweat on them reflected the sunlight that had managed to break through the dark evening clouds.
“I’m thinkin’ we’ll stay for at least a year. Hopefully by then we’ll have a little lad runnin’ around, keeping us busy. Then we can go from there.”
A year? Da couldn’t leave the country. That would mean he wouldn’t be around for the birth of her first child.
She thought back to her vision, the one with Graham standing naked in front of her, his muscular chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her gaze swung to Brian. Maybe if she imagined Graham, the experience, her first experience, would be bearable. Maybe she could even come to enjoy it.
Brian picked up the stick that Rionna had thrown on the ground and prodded the ebbing flames, teasing them back to full strength. Their orange tips whipped back and forth in the faint evening wind, burning faster.
Helena tried to choke down the lump in her throat, but it was no use. She was already turning to ash.
Chapter Twenty-One
Feile na Maighe was in full swing when Helena and Brian arrived. The throaty sound of bagpipes echoed down the street, bouncing off the yellow, blue, and pink houses of Adare Village. The distinct aroma of freshly baked bread and the oily scent of street food vendors wafted through the air, mixing with the sounds of the much-anticipated festival.
Lydia and Jimmy stood by a coffee shop, waiting for them.
“Hiya, Helena!” Lydia beamed. “I’m glad ya and Brian could meet us. I thought I was gonna have to take my sisters. Now it’s like a real double date!”
Jimmy walked up to Brian and extended his hand. “Wotcher. I’m Jimmy. I hear we’re gonna be cousins of sorts.”
Brian shook his hand. “Aye, good to meet ya.”
Helena adjusted her purse on her shoulder and leaned in, so only Lydia could hear her whisper, “What does he mean, they’re gonna be cousins?”
Lydia shoved her hand in front of Helena’s face. “Look! He did it!”
On Lydia’s ring finger was an oversized solitaire diamond on a yellow gold band. It was beautiful. Helena ran her thumb over her naked ring finger. Strangely, she didn’t feel upset or jealous, only a sense of disappointment. Unlike Lydia, she wasn’t getting married for anything as romantic as love—with her and Brian, the arrangement was nothing more than familial business.
“Congratulations, Lyd. I’m real happy for you.” Jimmy may not have been a prince, but if this was what Lydia wanted, it had to have been better than being sold off.
“Well, congratulations to you too.” Lydia slipped her arm through Helena’s. “Are you happy?”
Helena forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”
“At least you don’t have to take those shite exams.”
It might have been pointless to take the exams now, but a part of her still wanted to complete them and to do well. It could be the last gift she gave to herself—the last selfish thing she could do. After the wedding, her life would revolve around Brian.
“Who knows, maybe Jimmy and I can stay near you all for a bit. I hear you’re going to England. Do you think Jimmy can find a job in tarmac there?”
“It would be grand to have ye round.” The idea of having Lydia near her in England made it seem almost bearable. “I’m gonna have to give up so much.”
She thought of her job in the kitchen. Mary had to be upset that Helena hadn’t returned to work. But she’d been forced to turn her back on Mary’s kindness.
Helena tried to push any thoughts of Mary or Graham from her mind. She hated to admit it, but she wanted to catch a glance of Graham today, to have the chance to say she was sorry, to thank him for the opportunity he had given her at the manor and to tell him goodbye. Yet she shuddered at the thought of seeing him. It was so much easier to keep moving, to not look back, to ignore all the things that could have been. Live for today, look to tomorrow, and follow the Traveller way.
Brian and Jimmy walked ahead of them, weaving through the crowds of villagers and tourists. The two Traveller men wore tight white shirts with sparkling patterns up the backs, finely pressed trousers, and shining black dress shoes. Their hair was perfectly shaped and gelled into place. Among all the tweed- and khaki-wearing villagers and tourists it was easy to pick them out. Lydia looked beautiful; her hair was half-up, and curls cascaded down her back, ending right above the crystal-studded angel wings she had meticulously added to her bright pink tank top. She pushed up the straps of her purse and held them in place on her shoulder, strategically, to show off the oversized diamond on her left hand.
All the roads were shut down, and the streets were filled with people. Kids clutched balloons in their little fists as they chased after each other, while others licked at steadily melting ice cream cones. Their parents stood in circles, visiting with their friends or sitting at the base of the fountain in the center of the little town.
The men stopped and waited for the girls to catch up. Brian extended his hand and waited until Helena slipped her fingers into his. His skin was warm and, though callused, still boyish, a far stretch from Graham’s strong and well-worn hands. Brian lifted their entwined hand to his mouth and gave her a kiss.
She reminded herself to smile.
Brian led her toward a group of people in front of the windows of a pub. Standing in the center were three women doing a traditional Irish step dance. Their feet whipped through the air, up, down, right, left, while their arms and chests remained still. They smiled brightly as they twisted and tapped in time to the music issuing from a radio that rested beside them.
Amongst the crowd were the two golfers she and Graham had questioned at the manor. They were gabbing away. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to move away from this village—everything reminded her of Graham, and what she had to give up.
“Jimmy and I are gonna go and grab a pint. You want a fizzy drink or something?” Brian asked.
A fizzy drink wouldn’t numb the emotions that filled her. “Nah, why don’t Lydia and I come with ye? I could use a pint.”
Brian’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right?’
He was going to have to get used to the fact she wasn’t like other Traveller women. She would d
o her best to play the role of the perfect little Traveller wife, but there were going to be times when she wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue. Brian would either have to grow to like it, or hate her for it.
They walked into the busy pub. Men filled the counters, and a few couples were seated at the booths. Brian and Jimmy found an empty table at the far end.
“Ladies.” He motioned his thumb at himself and Jimmy. “We’re gonna get a start on this piss up.”
Lydia perked up. “Would you get me a fizzy, love?”
Helena would have to be a rebel on her own. Brian looked at her, but this time she didn’t have to force the smile that played over her lips.
The boys made their way to the packed bar. The folk music seemed to grow louder, as if the owner were trying to tune out the drone of his patrons’ voices.
Lydia leaned across the table and motioned toward the front door. “Who’s that?”
She turned and looked toward where Lydia was pointing. Graham was walking toward their table, but his gaze was focused on Jimmy and Brian. There was a tight expression on Graham’s face—a look reminiscent of jealousy. He had no right to be jealous, but then again, in a strange way it made her feel wanted… really wanted. Brian never made her feel that way, and she doubted he ever would. To him, she was nothing more than an accessory, a plaything to be used and then ignored when it no longer suited him. Everything would be so different if Graham were the man in her life.
Graham weaved toward them through the tables. He looked at her and, catching her gaze, motioned for her to meet him outside.
This was her moment.
The vinyl stuck to her skin as she slid to the edge of the bench seat. “Lydia, cover for me.”
“Wait.” Lydia reached out for her. “What am I gonna tell Brian if he comes back and you’re away?”
“Just tell him I had to use the facilities.”
“What if he notices you followin’ that man out?”
Helena shrugged. She didn’t really care.
Standing next to the circle of people surrounding the dancers was Graham. He stared at her like a lost child—alone, scared, hungry for love.
“I wasn’t sure you’d meet me.”
Helena’s stomach tightened. “I just came out to say goodbye. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. Ya know. When ya said…”
“That I loved you?”
“Aye, that.”
Graham’s shoulders fell. “If you don’t feel the way I do, you just don’t.”
A lump rose in her throat as she thought about the man waiting at the bar for her. There was only one choice she could make if she wanted to stay part of her family.
“I don’t, Graham.” Helena pushed back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She couldn’t be weak. If she cared for Graham, the best thing she could do was let him go. It might hurt him in this moment, but eventually he would be happy again, and fall for a country woman.
Graham’s gaze never wandered from her face, as if he were trying to remember every line there and every expression she made. “I know you don’t believe me, but you have a special gift. You have more power than you know. If only you could see it. If only you could see what an incredible woman you are. You don’t deserve to be held back—not by me, not by your family, and especially not by that eejit Brian. He wouldn’t know the difference between his arse and a teapot. You can’t marry him, Helena… you just can’t.” There was an edge of desperation in his voice.
Graham was right. Brian wasn’t the full shilling, but he was the safest option. She would get exactly what she needed to have—her family, a life she knew. Maybe she could even ignore the forshaw and avoid using her clairsentience. Life would be simple. She’d cook, clean, travel, have children, and please her husband—nothing more.
“He’s not as bad as you’re makin’ him out to be, Graham. He’ll take good care of me.” Graham reached out for her hand, but Helena stepped back. “Why did you come here? You are only making this harder on the both of us.”
“I wanted you to know that Rose came back. She hadn’t been possessed. The nurses were wrong.” He dropped his hand. “She found me, but she’s gone missing again. She didn’t remember what happened. When I told her about Danny, she didn’t take it well. I think she went looking for you, but she also said she hated the infirmary—she may just be hiding. She was so confused and upset.”
“Maybe Ayre can help you.” Her gaze moved down to his empty hand.
“Aye.” Graham exhaled as if he had expected the answer she had given him. “I still need you, Helena. I know you don’t love me, but I know you care about Danny. If you don’t come back…”
Her heart ached as she thought back to the sickly boy who rested in the bed beneath the manor. She had pushed Danny from her mind as much as she could, but it pained her that she could do nothing. He was only a boy… an innocent child.
“All I can do is sense his illness with my ability. I can’t do anything to change what is goin’ on with him, Graham.”
“You just need to strengthen your gift. Exercise it, and it’ll get stronger. I don’t expect you to be able to help him right away, but maybe if you keep trying, you can get through. You can’t just leave him there. You’re his only hope.”
Graham reached out to touch her. This time Helena let him hold her for a moment before she pulled away.
The crowd around them shifted. She stepped back as she tried to see what they were looking at. From behind a stocky brunette man, Gavin stepped out. Tears ran down his ash-covered face.
“Helena?” Her brother’s voice was hoarse and weak.
She dropped to her knees and pulled his quaking body into her arms. His tears wetted her shirt as he gasped for breath.
Helena lifted Gavin into her arms and rushed away from the crowds of people. “What happened, Gavin? Are ya okay?”
The boy smelled like a campfire and sweat.
“What are ya doin’ here?”
The boy shook as he whimpered on her shoulder.
“Gavin, what’s goin’ on?”
She pushed him back so she could look at him. His eyes were red with tears, and she could see that some of the hair on the side of his head was singed, as if he had been too close to the fire. “Are ya okay?”
She grabbed his shoulder and spun him around as she searched him for burns. His neck was red, but nothing a little ointment couldn’t cure. “What happened? Are Mam and Rionna okay?”
Gavin hiccupped as he tried to stop the tears. “I… I… They were in the trailer… Mam…”
“Mam what?” Helena shook his shoulders as if the action would dislodge his answers.
“Mam was… was drinking…” Gavin stammered. “I dunno know what… what happened… She was in the trailer with me and Rionna. Then the fire started.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The crowd swelled around the smoldering remains of her family’s trailer. The smoke rose up like a giant fist, as if even God were smiting her for wanting more in her life—for wanting anything that wasn’t the traditional gypsy way.
The center of the trailer moaned and collapsed with the screech of hot, twisted metal. Everything around Helena pulled in and succumbed to the pressure of an angry fate.
She wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek, almost surprised she had any left to shed. Her family had lost everything. Their jobs, their home, and all the hope she held for a future.
An icy wind blew against her back and encouraged the flames that licked at the sides of the charred trailer. The ashes surrounding the burning skeleton lifted up and scattered in the air. The crowd shifted, as if they were afraid the ashes of her family would defile them, the flesh of their flesh.
She hated them all. She hated every person who stood there. They'd done nothing but watch as her family’s life crashed to the ground. They didn’t care. All they wanted was a show, a bit of gossip to spread around the town and the Traveller campsites.
Rionna stoo
d next to her, her arms pulled loosely over her chest. Helena hugged Gavin to her. Da sat on the ground, his face in his hands, broken. Her chest ached as she watched him falling apart in front of the world.
Brian stood with his father, talking quietly.
Maybe he wouldn’t want her now. She and her family would only be another drain on their resources—and they had nothing more to give.
Gavin looked up at her. “Is Mam gonna be okay?”
Helena glanced over at where the ambulance had sat only an hour before. Mam was lucky to be alive. She had been burned across her arms and upper body, but a few days in the hospital and she would likely be back to her old self—drinking, angry, and forgetting all about the disaster she had caused.
“She’ll be fine, gra. She’ll be fine,” Helena said, but it was only a half-truth.
“My hands hurt.” Gavin leaned against her.
She took the boy’s hands. There was an unmistakable circular burn, as if Gavin had grabbed the searing door handle of the trailer in his escape.
She let go of his hands and turned to Rionna. “Are ya okay, girl?”
Rionna lifted her arms. The undersides were covered in yellow blisters.
Helena gasped.
A flurry of emotions filled her: hate, love, anger, resentment. She couldn’t hold back the tears that slid down her cheeks. She’d never been so furious, so hurt. Her mam had not only ruined her own life, she’d also done her damnedest to ruin the lives of all of those around her.
She couldn’t be allowed to do any more damage, or to hurt another person Helena loved.
“Come with me.” She strode into the trees, away from the prying eyes of the crowd that milled around the campsite.
Rionna and Gavin followed her until she stopped next to a gooseberry bush. A small stream gurgled past their feet, slipped around a boulder, and disappeared in the direction of the Maigue River. “Stick your arms in there.”
Downstream was an old pine. It stood crooked and bent like an old crone; its bark was split, and pitch oozed from its wounds.
Once a Gypsy Page 18
