She didn’t sleep that night. But it was the first time since the party that it wasn’t because she was agonising over her relationship with her mother. Or because she was thinking about Liam and Steve and feeling foolish. This time, sleep was an impossibility because she was too busy deciding on the image she wanted to project to Gerald Morton the next day. She kept going over and over ideas she could bring to whatever it was he wanted her to work on. This was an opportunity that she definitely wasn’t going to let slide by.
The following morning, she dressed in her smart navy suit, tied back her wayward hair and got a taxi to the company’s head office on the Airton Road. She didn’t allow herself to feel intimidated by the modern glass and steel building with its air of quiet efficiency. When she was brought up to Gerald’s office, she held back on the jokes she usually made about big business and how it was ruining the world. She listened to what he had in mind, nodded a few times and then told him that she could do a good job for him. They agreed terms there and then – she tried not to look too delighted at the money he was offering – and he promised to have a contract to her within a couple of days.
‘I’m delighted we get to work together,’ he said. ‘I really did like your designs.’
‘I’m thrilled too.’ She forgot to be cool and businesslike then and gave him a wide smile, which he returned as they shook hands.
The great thing about the project was that it had a six-month time frame. The even greater thing, from her perspective, was that it included some travel to the company’s international headquarters in Singapore. Steffie hadn’t been able to contain her excitement when she called Roisin to tell her about it.
‘You’re not serious!’ Roisin had been totally taken aback by the news. ‘They’re actually sending you to Singapore? By yourself?’
‘They sure are,’ Steffie replied. ‘And I’m not slumming it in economy either! They’ve sprung for a better seat.’
‘You lucky thing.’
‘It’s work.’ Steffie had tried to keep her voice serious. ‘It’s not a holiday, you know.’
‘It doesn’t matter!’ cried Roisin ‘You’re being sent to Singapore! On business. You! I can hardly believe it.’
Steffie couldn’t either. She’d been beyond excited checking in at the airport, even though she kept telling herself that millions of people travelled for business every single day and she wasn’t anyone special. But she felt it all the same.
Jenny had texted her to say congratulations and to wish her a safe journey. When Steffie got the message, she was tempted to call her mother and share the excitement with her. But she didn’t. Talking to Jenny would inevitably mean having to deal with their personal situation, and she didn’t want to allow a complicated conversation to interfere with how happy she was right now. So she simply texted thank you in return. During her four-day stay in Singapore, she sent group picture messages to her family, including Pascal and Jenny, to let them know how she was getting on. But that was as far as she was prepared to go. She still wasn’t ready to talk, or to meet them face to face.
It occurred to her when she was in Singapore that she could get a flight to New Zealand from there and try tracing her biological father. But it was a fleeting notion and she knew that she’d have to put in a lot more research before actually embarking on something like that. Besides, she admitted to herself, it wasn’t something she really wanted to do. Unlike Alivia, who’d been very firm about her desire to meet her biological dad, Steffie didn’t feel the need to make contact with the nude sheep farmer. Somewhat weirdly, given how she’d felt when she first found out about him, she was growing less and less concerned about him every day. Although not less concerned about the fact that her parents had kept him a secret. That was still a struggle.
The snow had begun to fall more heavily and was coating the roads with a dusting of white by the time they arrived at the castle.
‘Absolutely on time,’ said Roisin with satisfaction.
‘We’re half an hour early,’ objected Paul.
‘We have to be there before the bride and groom,’ Roisin said.
‘We’re the first to arrive!’
‘Maybe,’ Roisin conceded. ‘But I’ll bet the others will be here soon.’
Even as she spoke, a car turned in to the small car park outside the castle and Alivia got out. She was wearing a fuchsia-pink coat with matching high-heeled shoes.
‘Oh my goodness, Liv, you look gorgeous!’ cried Roisin as she too got out of the car.
‘It’s freezing.’ Alivia rubbed her hands together and wished she’d invested in the pretty leather gloves she’d seen in the window of Brown Thomas the previous day. ‘What’s the chances of it being warmer inside?’
‘Fingers crossed,’ said Roisin. ‘Where’s your mum?’
‘She’s coming with the new boyfriend.’ Alivia grinned. ‘We’re all staying at Roselawn B and B, which to be honest makes me feel slightly gooseberry-ish. I’m hoping I don’t hear them at it in the middle of the night.’
‘Alivia!’ Roisin made a face. ‘Not in front of the children.’
Alivia laughed. ‘The kids are fine,’ she said. ‘Hey, Steff! How are you?’
Steffie hadn’t seen Alivia in the flesh since the party, although they’d talked a number of times. She got out of the car and hugged her.
‘I’m grand,’ she said. ‘Busy.’
‘So you are.’ Alivia smiled. ‘Jet-setter!’
‘Ah well, it’s not as glam as it sounds, but it’s a brilliant contract and I’ve got more work off the back of it. So much,’ she added, ‘that having to take a day off for a wedding is a bit of a chore.’
‘I really hope you don’t mean that, Steffie Sheehan,’ said Roisin. ‘Especially when it’s such an important day.’
‘I’m ferociously busy,’ Steffie said. ‘But I’m not complaining. Not at all.’
‘Can we go inside, Mum?’ asked Daisy. ‘It’s really cold out here.’
Roisin nodded and they walked into the castle building.
The hall had been laid out with chairs either side of the red carpet that ran the length of the flagstone floor. The thick walls were painted white and the vaulted ceiling was supported by timber beams. Iron candle holders hung from the beams while two enormous candles flickered at the top of the hall, either side of a huge wooden table. A stained-glass window was recessed into the wall behind the table. During the summer, the coloured light from the glass reflected across the floor, but today, as the snow continued to fall, the light from both the candles and the glow of electric lighting suffused the wall with a gentle lilac hue.
‘It’s not exactly brass monkeys indoors,’ murmured Alivia. ‘But not tropical either.’
‘I guess back in the day they had a big fire going somewhere,’ said Steffie.
‘And they were roasting an entire pig on it.’ Alivia laughed.
The sound of conversation from the entrance to the hall made them turn around, and they waved in greeting as Colette and Sarah walked in.
‘My God, Colette,’ said Roisin. ‘I’ve never seen you look better.’
‘Thank you.’ Colette kissed her cousin on the cheek. ‘You look great too.’
‘I’ve made an effort,’ agreed Roisin, ‘but I haven’t undergone a complete transformation like you.’
‘Colette manages to transform herself on a regular basis,’ said Sarah, ‘but I have to say this is her best look yet.’
‘Mum!’ Colette gave her an exasperated look.
The castle manager, who’d been making some adjustments to the sound system, came over and welcomed them, and then, as the remainder of the guests arrived, the registrar walked up to the table.
‘The bride and groom are outside,’ she said. ‘So if you could all take your seats …’
The group did as they were asked, and suddenly music echoed around the hall. Beside her, Steffie heard Roisin sniff, and she began to well up herself as the tenor started to sing. It was ‘Some Enchanted Eve
ning’, a song that she knew was her mother’s favourite.
Everyone was turning around to see the bride. And the groom. Because Jenny and Pascal had decided to walk up the aisle together. Jenny had told him they’d been a couple for forty years and she wasn’t going to do a solo run now. Pascal had been happy to agree.
She was dressed in red silk. The dress was cleverly cut, and complemented by a matching bolero jacket, so that she appeared taller and slimmer than usual. On her head was a neat pillbox hat with a short net veil. But what made her look beautiful was the smile on her face. At least that was what Camilla whispered to Davey as Jenny and Pascal walked by them.
‘I will have to up my game in the summer to make it as romantic as this,’ she murmured.
Davey chuckled and squeezed his fiancée’s hand. Their wedding would be the following June, in Denmark. When Jenny had rung to ask him if they’d set a date and explained that she and Pascal had decided that the time had come for them to get married too, both Camilla and Davey had been happy to let his parents have their ceremony earlier. Camilla said that she wouldn’t feel in the least put out. And Davey joked that he would feel better knowing that his parents had got married before him.
Roisin was now sniffing into her tissue. She’d come prepared with plenty of them because she’d known that she’d cry, although she’d hoped she’d last until her parents were actually married. But it was good to be prepared.
Steffie was staring straight ahead. She didn’t want to turn around and look at Pascal and Jenny walking up the aisle. My mother and her husband, she murmured to herself, although of course he wasn’t her husband yet. And he’d never be her father. But, she thought, as they walked past her, she’d been totally unable to stop thinking of him that way. And after they were married, it would be even harder.
‘It’s a nice day,’ whispered Alivia, who was standing beside her. ‘You should be happy for them.’
And I am, thought Steffie. I really am. I just wish that they weren’t the two people who took what I thought was my life and ripped it up in front of me.
Her emotions were mixed as she saw Jenny stand in front of the big table. They were even more mixed as the registrar talked about love and happiness and being together. Then Pascal and Jenny read their vows.
‘When you walked into my life, you lit up my world,’ said Pascal. ‘I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you for ever.’
‘You have been with me through good times and bad,’ Jenny said. ‘Through ups and through downs. Through joy and through sorrow. I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you for ever.’
Dammit, thought Steffie, they’re doing their best to make me cry. And I don’t want to cry. But beside her Alivia was dabbing at her eyes, while Roisin had taken another tissue out of her bag. Even Camilla was sniffing.
Steffie knew she couldn’t hold out any longer. The tears slid from her eyes. She didn’t try to stop them.
Chapter 38
As soon as Pascal and Jenny were pronounced man and wife, the guests broke into applause and rushed from their seats to embrace them.
‘Mind my hat!’ cried Jenny as she was hugged enthusiastically by Lucinda and Sarah. ‘It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever worn one!’
Pascal’s brothers were patting him on the back, and so were the neighbours who’d crowded around the couple. Roisin had pushed forward too, wanting to hug her mother, but Steffie stood to one side while she struggled to compose herself. Usually at weddings her emotions were all to do with happiness for the bride and groom and good wishes for the future. But it was different this time. Pascal and Jenny had managed to live together for forty years, raise a family, work their way through the worst sort of betrayal and still stay together. They didn’t need good wishes for their future. They’d already lived it. Even though she was happy for them, Steffie wished she didn’t still feel a part of their big betrayal. Part of the reason they hadn’t got married before now.
‘You OK, sis?’ Davey stood beside her.
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘It’s weird all the same, isn’t it? You don’t expect to see your mum and dad walking up the aisle. At least not at our age.’
‘I know,’ said Davey. ‘The whole thing … it was all a shock. And for you, Steffie, a bigger one than for the rest of us.’
‘Yes.’
‘How are you doing with it?’ he asked.
She looked at him in surprise. She had never, in her entire life, had a conversation with Davey about feelings. Her words caught in her throat.
‘I love you, Steff, you know that,’ he said when she didn’t speak. ‘Mum and Dad love you too. There’s no need to feel …’ he grimaced slightly, ‘well, whatever you might be feeling.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what I feel, to be honest. Probably because I haven’t quite figured out how to deal with it yet.’
‘I might have been a bit abrupt with you before,’ he said. ‘I didn’t understand why you ran away. I do now, and if there’s anything I can do to help …’
‘Oh Davey, that’s really good of you. But I think I need to sort it out in my own head.’
‘Hopefully you can,’ he said. ‘But if you can’t, and if I can’t help you, there are places to go.’
‘Professionally?’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘You think I need to see a shrink?’
‘There’s no shame in it,’ he said. ‘If you can’t work it out on your own, why not let someone else help you?’
‘I never thought of that,’ she said.
‘Well, do think about it.’ He gave her a quick hug. ‘You know, if you decide that you never want to speak to Mum or Dad again, that’s your right. If you want to trace your dad, you’re perfectly entitled to do it. All I care about is that you’re happy.’
Steffie felt a rush of love for her brother. It was the first time since Jenny had detonated her bombshell that she felt she wasn’t being pushed into trying to forgive and forget as quickly as possible so that everyone could resume the lives they’d had before.
‘And what about you and Camilla?’ she asked after a moment. ‘Don’t you mind that the parents have stolen your thunder?’
Davey laughed. ‘Not in the slightest,’ he said. ‘I told Mum I was happy that they’d be married before us. Makes me feel less like a boring conservative while they live out some wild-child hippy dream.’
‘Jenny is dazzling in red,’ said Camilla, who had joined them. ‘It’s such a good colour on her.’
‘What colour will you be wearing on your wedding day?’ asked Steffie.
‘I think I will go for something traditional,’ said Camilla. ‘It wasn’t my original idea but now … well, it will be very beautiful in Denmark in June and I want to be a lovely summer bride. Does that sound silly to you?’
‘Not at all,’ said Steffie. ‘I’m really looking forward to it. I was looking forward to it before Jenny and Pascal skipped ahead of you in the queue.’
‘Photo call!’ Pascal’s brother Seamus, who was one of the witnesses, clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, while the local photographer began to organise the guests behind the oak table.
‘I should stand this way.’ Summer, who was wearing a cream mohair coat over a gold lamé dress, turned to face the camera.
‘You were fine the way you were, pet,’ said the photographer.
‘This is better,’ she insisted.
Colette, beside Carl at one end of the line, glanced at him, but he was looking straight ahead, expressionless. Bernice, at the other end, was equally stony-faced.
After the group pictures, the photographer took some of Jenny and Pascal with their brothers and sisters, then others with nieces and nephews, and finally he asked Steffie, Davey and Roisin to pose with their parents.
‘Can you swap places with your sister?’ he asked Steffie, so that she was standing between Jenny and Roisin. They were so close that they were touching each other; she could feel her mother’s arm resting on her back
. I wish I could get over it, she thought. But I don’t know how. Maybe Davey is right. Maybe I do need to talk to a professional about it.
She was relieved when the photographs were finished and she plunged back into the crowd without saying anything, though she was conscious of Jenny’s eyes on her and she felt that she should congratulate her.
‘We’d better leave now,’ said Seamus. ‘We were due at the restaurant fifteen minutes ago.’
There was more chatter and movement from the guests as they made their way to the door.
‘Oh!’ gasped Daisy as she looked outside. ‘Oh my goodness. It’s snowing. Properly.’
She was right. In the time that it had taken to pronounce Jenny and Pascal husband and wife, the landscape had been transformed into a picture-postcard snowscape. And it was beautiful.
The newly-weds had reserved Cody’s for their celebration dinner, something else that had made the day particularly tense for Steffie. They didn’t know (she assumed) that she’d slept with Liam Kinsella. They didn’t know that he’d left her house because another man had arrived, and that their sole communication since then had been short and professional. In some ways a professional relationship had suited Steffie, because the unexpected contract from Gerald Morton’s company had taken over her life. But she also knew that if Liam Kinsella had wanted to be part of it in a personal way, she would have made room for him without a second thought.
She’d designed the new logo for Cody’s on her flight to Singapore. She’d been mulling over her original idea when it suddenly crystallised in her mind and she’d started working on it straight away. By the time the flight had landed, she’d built a brand identity around an apron graphic that she thought would fit perfectly with Cody’s. She’d emailed it to Liam before she’d gone to bed that evening, telling him that she’d promised to do some preliminary work for him, that she was now too busy to do anything more and that he could do what he liked with the logo and the suggestions of how to use it. She’d also sent him a link to a website developer who might be able to help him with the restaurant’s site.
My Mother's Secret Page 34
