It was a few days later before Liam replied, telling her he really liked the design and he’d have a think about how it could be implemented. He wanted to know how much to pay her. She reminded him that they’d agreed her initial design was free and that she’d only charge him if she was going to do more work for him. But as she couldn’t, he didn’t owe her a thing. She added that she was currently in Singapore working on a major project.
She hadn’t received any more emails from him after that. She’d tried very hard not to think about him either. But now, standing in Cody’s, the only thing going through her head was that the double doors leading to the kitchen was all that separated them. She wanted to barge through them right now and wrap her arms around him. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him that she loved him, that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Because it was true. She thought about him all the time, even when she was busy doing other things. And she wished that it had worked out differently between them.
She was wondering why it was that life never took the route you expected when Bernice came to stand beside her. Carl’s still ex-girlfriend had reprised the look she’d had for Jenny and Pascal’s anniversary party, with her hair in luxurious curls and her face perfectly made up. She was wearing a deep burgundy satin dress with flared skirt and narrow waist. Seeing her tense expression, Steffie was struck by the fact that she wasn’t the only one at today’s event who had issues. Bernice had been through the mill too. She glanced around and saw Carl talking to Davey.
‘How are you keeping?’ she asked Bernice, who was also looking in Carl’s direction.
‘Oh, you know. Getting there,’ replied Bernice. ‘It was sweet of your mum and dad to invite me.’
‘Of course they were going to invite you,’ said Steffie. ‘You’re family.’
Bernice grimaced. ‘I used to say that to myself all the time,’ she admitted. ‘When I was living with Carl and we’d come to events, I believed I was part of it. I know we weren’t married, but we might as well have been. Not unlike your mum and dad, I suppose.’
‘I suppose.’ Steffie had never thought of that before.
‘And then Summer came along and I felt like I’d been wrenched out.’
‘I’m stunned that they’re still together,’ admitted Steffie. ‘I always thought she was a fling. His summer fling,’ she added wryly.
‘Yeah, well, so did I until …’ Bernice’s fingers tightened around the champagne glass as she spoke. ‘They haven’t told anyone yet, but she’s pregnant.’
‘What!’ Steffie almost dropped her own glass. ‘I never thought …’
‘Neither did I.’ Bernice gave her a tight smile. ‘These things happen, right?’
But she hadn’t expected them to happen between Carl and Summer. When he’d phoned her with the news, she’d gone into complete shock.
‘I thought I should give you a heads-up,’ Carl said, ‘although we’re keeping it quiet for the moment. It wasn’t planned, Bernice. Nowhere near planned. But I guess this means that I wasn’t the problem as far as we were concerned. Which on the one hand I’m glad about. But I’m sorry for you. I really am.’
And yet he didn’t have to be sorry for her. Because the result of Bernice’s test, the one she’d brought with her to the anniversary party with the intention – perhaps – of handing it to Carl as a kick in the teeth, had been that she was perfectly normal and healthy and there was no medical reason why she shouldn’t conceive. Which meant, from her point of view, that Carl was the reason she hadn’t got pregnant. Believing that had given her a certain confidence at the ill-fated anniversary party. It had made her feel superior to him and allowed her to have condescending thoughts towards his silly relationship with Summer. Yet now he’d proved that he was perfectly fine, achieving something with his new girlfriend that he hadn’t with Bernice, despite the fact that there’d been no physical reason they couldn’t have had a baby after all. The news had shattered her.
She’d thought about not accepting the wedding invitation, uncomfortable at the idea of seeing Carl and his pregnant girlfriend there. And she wondered how it was that Summer had got pregnant so quickly when they weren’t even planning it, while she’d tried for nearly a year without success. Maybe I wanted it too much, she thought now as she watched the younger girl chatting to Daisy. Maybe the very fact that I cared worked against me somehow.
‘You’d never know,’ said Steffie. ‘She still has her figure.’
‘I’m hoping she balloons up like a walrus.’ The words were out of Bernice’s mouth before she could stop them, and Steffie couldn’t help laughing.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ she said, and clinked her glass against Bernice’s.
From the other side of the room, Sarah was watching Bernice and Steffie talking together. She was aware that Carl was watching them too. She couldn’t for the life of her understand why he was still with the flibbertigibbet. Summer wasn’t his kind of girl. She really wasn’t. He’d told her that it was nothing more than a bit of fun, and Sarah had hoped that after the silly ‘on a break’ thing was over, he’d go back to Bernice. But somehow he was still with Summer. When the wedding invitations had come and Sarah realised that Carl and Summer would be going as a couple, she was gutted. She hadn’t known then if Bernice would be invited too, so she’d called her, and when Bernice said that she had been but that she was in two minds about it, Sarah had told her that she simply must come. She’d been certain that when her son saw Bernice again, he’d realise what he was missing. But so far he hadn’t appeared to have spoken to his ex-girlfriend at all, while being unnecessarily solicitous towards Summer. The girl was perfectly capable of looking after herself, thought Sarah. She was a tough cookie despite her frothy exterior. She knew what she was doing. She watched as Summer refused champagne and instead had her glass refilled with sparkling water, and suddenly understood why. Her heart sank like a stone, before treacherously lifting again almost at once at the thought of her first grandchild.
My children are still nothing but heartache to me, she thought as she allowed her own glass of champagne to be topped up. Why can’t I have an easy life with them? She was ready to concede that of late Colette was less of a worry than before, but Carl was more than making up for her now. Especially if she was right about Summer. Which she knew she was.
‘Hey, Sarah, penny for them.’ Lucinda pushed her way to her sister’s side.
‘Nothing very exciting,’ said Sarah.
‘You were looking at Carl as though you wanted to shoot him.’ Lucinda’s eyes danced with merriment. ‘Give him a break, sis.’
‘I think she’s pregnant,’ said Sarah.
‘Who? Oh!’ Lucinda’s eyes widened and she looked across the room. Summer was still talking to Daisy. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Pretty sure,’ said Sarah. ‘She’s drinking water and … and she’s put on a bit of weight.’
Lucinda studied Summer and nodded slowly. ‘You might be right.’
‘She’s trapped him,’ said Sarah. ‘I should have guessed she would.’
‘Don’t be so old-fashioned.’ Lucinda made a face at her sister. ‘Girls don’t trap men any more. If they ever did. Even if I’d wanted to, I didn’t trap George, did I?’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘The relationship between Carl and Summer is none of my business. I have to butt out. That’s what Carl told me when he first had problems with Bernice, and he’s right. I wanted to help, but it’s not up to me, is it? They have to work it out themselves. It’s taken me a long time to realise that.’
‘Oh, look, none of us ever work it out properly,’ said Lucinda. ‘For ourselves or for the people around us.’
‘But you’re working on working it out.’ Sarah smiled slightly. ‘You and the man!’
Lucinda had introduced Frank to Sarah at the church.
‘Isn’t he a pet?’ She beamed. ‘I met him at a concert. I suppose it’s a sign of my advancing years that it was a stage and scre
en musical celebration and not a rave somewhere. We hit it off straight away. He’s divorced, two grown-up kids, everything fairly amicable, at least by now.’
‘Is it serious?’ asked Sarah. ‘You’ve only known him a couple of months.’
‘Time moves faster in your fifties,’ said Lucinda. ‘I don’t have the luxury of faffing about.’
‘So it is serious?’
‘I like him a lot,’ confessed Lucinda. ‘If I decide to marry him, I can’t hang around for forty years like Jenny.’
Sarah looked at her keenly. ‘It’s on the cards?’
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Lucinda. ‘He’s the first man I’ve had in my life in any kind of serious way since George. That’s sad, don’t you think? That I wasted thirty feckin’ years keeping them at arm’s length. I guess after talking to you at Jenny and Pascal’s do, I realised that I couldn’t be like that for ever. That time really is marching on. And so when Frank asked me out, I didn’t get all defensive like I usually do, and I said yes. I’m glad I did.’
‘I’m glad for you,’ said Sarah. ‘And I hope you’ll have lots of happiness with him, no matter how long you decide it’s for.’
‘Thank you.’ Lucinda was pleased at her sister’s remarks. In her experience, Sarah had always been the most bitter of them, a glass-half-empty sort of person. Yet today, even though she was clearly rattled about Carl and Summer, she was very definitely trying to be more positive.
Perhaps weddings do that for you, Lucinda thought as she waved at her new boyfriend, inviting him to join them. Perhaps they bring out the optimist in all of us.
Chapter 39
Although Steffie was at the same circular table as her parents, she was seated between Daisy and Dougie, and too far away to have to engage in direct conversation with them. Whoever had decided on the layout had been very thoughtful, she decided, although sitting among the children made her feel that she wasn’t fit for adult conversation. Which she knew was somewhat paranoid. However Daisy was keeping her up to speed on her efforts to become a top model – Summer had sent her a surprise package of make-up samples the previous week, with tips on how to apply them; while at the same time Dougie started to tell her about the hat-trick he’d scored at his football match the previous weekend, where he’d been given the man-of-the-match award, so she had to devote all her attention to them.
They were both so hopeful, she thought, so excited about their lives and their futures. I used to feel like that all the time too. And I did again when Gerald Morton rang me. But until I resolve my issues with my mother, I can’t honestly feel right about anything again. Yet it’s so much easier to say than to do.
She pushed her prawns around her plate, unable to eat despite the general consensus that they were utterly sublime.
‘It’s by far the best restaurant in the south-east,’ Jenny was telling Camilla. ‘Pascal and I come here all the time. They don’t normally cater for private functions like this, but when we asked them, the owner couldn’t have been nicer about it.’
Steffie felt herself glow in Liam Kinsella’s reflected niceness. I’m perfectly capable of being happy, she told herself as she realised she was smiling. I just need to stay that way. At the moment I’m like Dougie at his most petulant. Worse, in fact, because he’s only six.
She made herself eat one of the prawns. Everyone had been right about them. They were the best she’d ever tasted.
This time, Jenny didn’t hesitate before she and Pascal cut the cake that had been baked for the occasion. It was a traditional wedding cake, in two tiers, with royal icing and little figures of a bride and groom on the top.
‘Comic figures,’ Jenny pointed out as she held the knife over the cake. ‘We can’t possibly take ourselves too seriously at this point.’
But inside she believed they’d done a serious thing. And she felt a wave of relief wash over her that she was finally, as she’d always thought of herself, Mrs Sheehan. Married to Pascal. No more pretending. No more worrying that people who mattered would discover their secret. A secret that both lessened and grew with the passing years. Lessened because it didn’t matter to her that they weren’t married. Grew because the longer they went without confessing, the harder it became to tell anyone. The trouble with secrets, she thought, is that they start to take over our lives. They take on a life of their own. They change us. They make us change to keep them. And it’s not always a good thing.
She looked at Steffie, who was clapping along with the rest of the guests. Her daughter was smiling, which was an enormous relief. Jenny had hoped to have made her peace with Steffie before today, but she knew that she had to do things at her daughter’s pace. The group texts and emails had been a start, but Jenny ached for the easy relationship they’d had before.
The wedding itself had been another source of anxiety. Following the fateful anniversary celebration, she and Pascal had decided they should get married as soon as possible. But Jenny was concerned about arranging it before the situation with Steffie had been resolved.
‘Putting things off before didn’t exactly work out how we planned,’ Pascal told her. ‘Let’s do it now, Jen. And you never know, if we haven’t sorted it out beforehand, perhaps it will help to heal things.’
Although she’d agreed with him that they should go ahead, Jenny’s greatest fear had been that Steffie wouldn’t come to the wedding at all. Her absence would have been a gaping wound that no clapping or congratulating or champagne could have healed, so she’d been very relieved when her daughter had sent an acceptance card, even if it arrived at the last possible minute.
The fact that she’s here is the main thing, thought Jenny, as Pascal got up to make his speech. And he was right, as always. Waiting wouldn’t have made things any better. She listened to her husband’s words, which were both wise and humorous, and she knew that she was lucky to have him in her life.
Davey, as Pascal’s best man, got up to speak too. Both of them were cheered wildly before the small local band began the music for the evening, and the waitresses moved the tables to make room for dancing. Pascal led Jenny to the centre of the floor and the guests gathered around them, applauding them.
‘I feel an awful fraud again,’ whispered Jenny. ‘After all, we’re supposed to have done all this before.’
‘We never had the party,’ he murmured. ‘We’re entitled to the party.’
She laughed and he kissed her.
Observing them from the edges of the crowd, Steffie felt her eyes brim with tears. It was a happy occasion. It was good to know that people could come through difficult times and stick together. Yet she felt as though she was suffocating in the universal goodwill. Each of the guests wanted things to be back to normal. They wanted Pascal and Jenny to be married, to forget the inconvenient truth that they’d lied to everyone here. They wanted Steffie herself to forget the even more inconvenient truth that she’d been the result of her mother’s affair. They wanted things to be the way they’d always believed. Not the way they really were.
She watched Davey and Roisin clap and cheer and she envied the genetic bond that bound them together. Roisin had told her a million times that having a different father meant nothing. Whenever Davey spoke to her these days he called her sis, which he’d never done before. They would always include her, there was no doubt about that. The problem was, she didn’t feel she had the right to be included. She knew it was silly. But she couldn’t help how she felt.
She was too hot. And the buzz of conversation, as well as the music, was making her head ache. She needed to be on her own for a few minutes. She needed some peace and quiet. She took her angora jacket from the back of her chair and slipped out of the restaurant door. The snow was still drifting slowly from the sky, turning the dark countryside into a single white expanse, and the icy coldness of the air took her breath away.
She shivered as she stood beneath the half-shelter of a spreading silver fir tree. The snow muffles everything, she thought, as faint traces of music se
eped from the restaurant. Even your feelings.
Colette was the only one who’d noticed Steffie stepping outside. She thought about following her to check if she was OK, but then decided that Steffie probably needed some time to herself. She understood that it was a difficult day for her cousin. She’d been prepared for a difficult day herself, having to see Davey and Camilla again. She’d worried that all her old feelings for him might suddenly come rushing back. But they hadn’t. When she’d met him at the castle and said hello, it was as if she’d never spent hours and days and months and even years pining for him. He was just Davey. Someone she’d known when she was a kid. Someone she felt comfortable with. Not awkward. Not anything. And that was that. In fact, she thought, it was almost frightening how her feelings for him had disappeared. He’d overshadowed her life for so long, it seemed incredible that that wouldn’t continue to be the case. And yet here she was, watching him dancing with Camilla and not feeling a thing. It was very liberating.
‘Hi.’ A man was standing beside her. He was holding two glasses of champagne, one of which he offered to her. ‘I saw you were without a drink,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d bring one to you.’
‘That’s very kind of you.’ She smiled at him. ‘It’d never do for me to be a champagne-free zone.’
‘Sean McGettigan,’ he said, proffering his hand. ‘I work with Pascal.’
‘Accountancy?’ hazarded Colette, who knew her uncle was doing some kind of part-time work but had no idea what.
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘There’s a look of an accountant about you.’ She chuckled. ‘Maybe it’s the suit.’
‘All the men are in suits,’ he protested.
‘But you wear yours with a greater sense of ownership.’
‘Dammit,’ he said. ‘I clearly have to try harder to throw off the shackles.’
‘Perhaps if you danced,’ she suggested. ‘Loosened up a bit, you know?’
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