My Husband's Wives

by Faith Hogan

  ‘Okay, so I never thought I’d be so close to her, that I’d be so… fond of her.’

  ‘And Evie?

  ‘God, if I’d known she existed two years ago, I’d probably have had a meltdown.’ It was true. Paul never mentioned Evie to her. He never really spoke about Grace either and Annalise knew now that her life had been the poorer before for not knowing either of them. ‘I’m glad I know them now, Kasia.’ Annalise bent her face towards baby Eve, drank in the lovely powdery baby smell of her. ‘I’m so glad I have all of you in my life now.’ She thought about it for a moment. ‘It’s as if the Starr family are finally a real family after all.’

  *

  Carlinville was looking more beautiful than Evie had ever seen it. The windowpanes seemed to wobble and dance in the gentle glow of candle lamps lit inside them. The gilt mirrors winked and the heavy dark wood had turned almost water-like in its gleaming shine. Sad, Evie thought, that Paul had never seen it so breathtaking. The bouquet scent of fresh flowers and the occasional waft of crusty bread and smoked salmon from the caterers filled the air. Harder to pin down was a sense of expectation, shored within its walls, as though it was sitting on the cusp of a sparkling new future. In the large entrance hall, a jazz band tuned up and the musicians started on a gentle medley to launch the evening. They would hit full swing by midnight and make this into a night of celebration. Evie was delighted for Grace. Her work was phenomenal, but this? Well, this was special. It held far more optimism than any she’d exhibited before and she looked happy to have Jake at her side. Evie managed to bump into a few old acquantances too.

  ‘This is Edwin,’ Evie said, introducing the older man at her side to Grace. ‘Edwin Rooney – we knew each other many years ago. He’s Eddie’s father. I’d never have guessed.’

  ‘Eddie from the track?’ Grace must have heard Evie mention the mechanic often. Evie had a soft spot for him from the first day they’d met. Annalise joked it was a two-way appreciation society.

  ‘Oh, he couldn’t say enough about her.’ Edwin extended a thick strong hand. ‘And of course, I knew, even though the name had changed to Starr – it had to be little Evie Considine. She was always a flier behind the wheel.’

  ‘I wasn’t that good, Edwin.’ Evie blushed.

  ‘You know well you were. Even old Sergeant Conway, you ran him off the road more than once.’

  ‘Stop it.’

  ‘No, you have to tell me?’ Grace was enjoying Evie’s girlish blush.

  ‘We were sweethearts – oh, it was all a long time ago now and we were very young. It was very innocent compared to today’s standards. But we’d meet Wednesdays, race our fathers’ cars out around the old bends. Sure, she’d always win, what with her driving a Merc, but it was worth the beating, just to see her.’

  ‘You never let me win, or not easily anyway.’ Evie sipped her champagne.

  ‘I never let you win, full stop. You beat me fair and square.’ He raised his glass. ‘Then one Wednesday night, she never showed. Well, I thought that was the end of it. She met some posh bloke. I can’t say her dad was ever that keen on me.’ He looked at Evie now, a faraway look in his light blue eyes. ‘I waited out at the spot we always met. I bet you never guessed that I showed up there for weeks afterwards – hoping you’d show. Sure, then I thought she must have well forgotten me. Times were hard and I shipped off to London the following year and only came back when we had the couple of kids and to take over where my father left off.’

  ‘You’re an undertaker?’ Evie said. ‘I always thought you would be.’ She smiled now.

  ‘I’d had dreams of driving, of doing anything but the funerals, but then you do what you have to do. I worked in the tracks in England. I liked it too, but then my father got older, and there were other people to consider. He told me there’d always be business in dying and I suppose he was right.’ He laughed at this, maybe he’d said the words a thousand times before but they were new and amusing to Evie and that was all that mattered now. ‘Of course, Eddie got the racing bug and I have another lad who’s driving out in the Far East above all the places on earth.’ He shook his head, smiling.

  ‘You have just two children? You and your wife?’ Grace had to know. There could be all the laughs in the world, but if he was still married then Evie would be out of here faster than a hot Ferrari.

  ‘Just the two boys – well, they’re hardly boys now. I have four grandchildren, between them. Poor Martha, she didn’t live to see the grandchildren. She’d have loved that, the idea of grandchildren.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Evie and Grace said together.

  ‘Her heart let her down in the end.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘It’s a few years now; she was too young, really. But sure, the ticker doesn’t count the candles, does it?’

  ‘No. I’m afraid it’s no respecter of age or desire either,’ Grace said and she had a feeling that for all his conviviality, perhaps he was lonely too.

  ‘You haven’t changed a bit, Evie,’ he said looking at her, ‘still little Evie Considine.’ He smiled, a thousand lost memories flashing between them in the briefest second.

  ‘Well, you certainly have.’ Evie laughed. ‘But still, I’m glad to see you again. I’ve often felt sorry about how I never let you know what happened that night.’

  ‘You can tell me now?’ Edwin looked at Grace, they were each as eager as each other.

  ‘I was on my way to see you when I passed Sergeant Conway. He didn’t let me get away with what he called my heavy foot that night. Just at Mottle’s corner, he had that young guard – do you remember him, the country fella with the squint?’

  ‘How could I forget him? They all said he was related to the Minister for Justice – sure he was far too short to be a guard otherwise?’

  ‘That’s him. He was a contrary piece of work, I can tell you now. He pulled me over, sent me home and that was the end of my driving until I went back to the track recently.’ They laughed now, all three of them, but Grace had a feeling that there might be a little sadness behind it too. Perhaps, if it wasn’t for the squinty-eyed guard, they might not be where they were today. All of them.

  ‘Well, it looks as if we have a lot of time to make up, Miss Considine?’ Edwin said and he placed his arm at her back, and if it felt odd, it seemed just right.

  ‘We have indeed, Edwin, a lot of time to catch up on.’ Evie smiled and Grace smiled too.

  *

  A small ripple of excitement passed through Evie as she moved through the crowd. It tingled somewhere at the back of her neck. Life was good, so much more than she ever dared to dream. She had revised her will. Carlinville and everything Evie owned would one day belong to Kasia. Vasile was facing prosecution, if he ever came back to Ireland. The guards told Kasia that he had left as soon as they released him from questioning. As far as they could make out, he fled to Australia – with any luck, he’d stay there.

  ‘First,’ Evie cleared her throat. The microphone emitted a tremulous screech that garnered the attention of the room. ‘First of all, on behalf of myself and Kasia, and little Eve, I’m delighted to welcome you all to our home.’ Evie surveyed the room, smiled at the many guests. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Edwin. ‘Of course, most of you – apart from that rowdy bunch over there that are my friends from the rally club—’ The comment gathered uproarious applause from the bunch of people she was addressing. ‘Most of you will be here because we are hosting the first exhibition by one of Ireland’s premier artists in over half a decade. What a lot of you won’t know is that Grace Kennedy and I are…’ She smiled towards Grace, ‘What we’d call tenuously related. We shared a husband and,’ Evie smiled again, ‘now, we share so much more. We share a family.’ And Grace knew that the fact that Evie could make those words public said even more about their relationship than giving her house over for Grace’s exhibition.

  ‘This is a very special night. We’d planned it as a memorial, a night to pay tribute to my husband, Paul, and say what a great man he was.�
�� She leaned a little closer to the microphone, lowered her voice, just a little and throatily added, ‘Which of course he was. However, over the last year we have learned something, Grace and Annalise – his third wife and Kasia – his daughter – and I. We have learned that one of the best things about Paul Starr was his ability to draw to himself wonderful women. Tonight, I can say that his greatest bequest to me has been the friendship that has grown between us, the women he loved.’ She raised her glass. ‘I’d like to raise a toast, to Paul Starr and to all he left behind.’ She smiled as she stroked little Eve’s head. ‘To my husband’s wives!’

  Epilogue

  1st January 2016.

  Dear Kasia,

  I suspect I will never be brave enough in life to tell you what you deserve to know.

  I knew your mother, many years ago. We worked together in Constanta. She was a brilliant nurse, a kind and caring woman. You are very like her. It was impossible not to be entranced by her. We worked side by side and somehow over the course of my weeks there we shared far more than just a bed. Of course, I returned to Evie, but I thought of your mother often. You were almost five when we met again and it was the first time I knew I had a daughter. At that time, your mother convinced me that your lives were good. She was married and happy, you were a family and there was no place for me in your lives. I left Romania that year an empty, lonely man. Over the years, I thought of you often, but until we met that day in the orphanage, I presumed life had been good to you.

  Kasia, you can’t know the remorse that I will forever carry that you had to live there for those years. I am a weak man, as you probably now see. It took almost two years before I had the courage to bring you to Dublin, and even then, I could not tell you that my kindness was more to assuage my guilt than it was a reflection of any admirable character trait.

  My biggest regret is that I did not insist all those years ago that we keep in touch. Perhaps your mother might have bent eventually. I know that Evie would have loved you as much as I do; I know now she would not have judged me or shunned you. I know that if you get the chance you will love her as much as I have all these years.

  That is my wish, as I sit here to put my affairs in order, that you find each other and manifest the abundantly happy lives you both deserve. More than anything, that is my wish.

  Your loving father,

  Paul.

  1st January 2016

  Annalise,

  We are at an end, truly at an end if you are reading this. As I’m putting pen to paper, on this first night of a new year, I’m conscious that between us things are changing. You are moving on, as I’ve always expected you to.

  I will always be happy that we’ve shared the time we’ve had together. You’ve given me so much more than just our precious sons.

  Know this Annalise, you are enough. Just as you are, without ever having to make a single change. You are enough and you will find what you need in life to make you happy. Know this too, I suspect that all you need is within you, if only you’ll believe in yourself.

  Love always,

  Paul.

  1st January 2016

  Dearest Grace,

  Yes. It is done. You are finally free to make a life for yourself and Delilah. Perhaps your grief is yet too raw, but Grace, some day you will see that I couldn’t let you go. That of all the selfish acts I’ve committed, holding on to you is probably the worst.

  We both know you could have met someone else. We both know you could have soldiered on happily alone. From the moment we met, I wanted to possess you. Your beauty, creativity, success, everything about you captivated me and it was wrong. It was wrong because I loved Evie too. I left you because I knew I was losing you, and I knew the only way to keep you was to let you go. But, of course I couldn’t.

  You will know now that I never divorced Evie. Our marriage and the one that followed were little more than a sham, but the love was real. Grace, I need you to believe the love was real.

  Even reading over this letter to you, I can see how pathetic I have been, but you already know that. You knew it that night I stayed and slept in your bed. Perhaps you knew it long before.

  Thank you for not letting Delilah see what you can see. Thank you for that, it is far more than I deserve.

  I will love you always, in my own selfish way,

  Paul.

  1st of January 2016

  My Darling Evie,

  It must seem strange to hear my words now, just when you were convinced you would not be hearing from me again. I pray this letter finds you well and able to cope with the future ahead. I hope it finds you with some place in your heart for me. I know, now you’re reading it, that I’ve finally left you. It wasn’t something I could ever do in life and I trust that you will not despise me forever for that.

  We spoke often of the reservoir of love we had for each other, but of course, looming large between us were the unsaid words of all those other people who shared a place in my heart.

  Evie, my darling, I will never be able to explain to you why I needed more. I’m not even sure that I needed more or if Grace and Annalise needed me so much I couldn’t not be with them. They saved us, perhaps as much as I saved them and I have a feeling that if you let them, they might just save you too.

  If you let her, Kasia could be your daughter; I’ve never had the chance to let her be mine. I would so dearly have loved to bring her to you, but for years, I could not find her. By the time I did, it was too late for all of us. How wrong I was. She is lovely, she is good and kind and it is truly my loss that I was not brave enough to be the man you’ve always believed I was.

  You will know too, that I promised to love both Grace and Annalise and I’ve kept that promise, there were vows, but in my heart I knew I couldn’t let you go. What I’ve done is wrong, but it’s not illegal. All of our oaths are from the heart, but there isn’t a legal marriage apart from ours. I hope that gives you some comfort. I know you never asked for it, but there you are. I am forever yours,

  Paul x

  There is only one thing I ask of you, Evie: do not shut the doors of Carlinville and hide. There is so much more of life out there waiting for you, if only you are brave enough to grasp it.

  We hope you enjoyed this book!

  Faith Hogan’s next book is coming in November 2016

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  Acknowledgements

  About Faith Hogan

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  Acknowledgements

  I’m so grateful to everyone at Aria and to Caroline Ridding for believing in this book enough to make the dream come true.

  I count myself a very lucky girl to have Ace Agent, Judith Murdoch at my side.

  Thank you Bernadine Cafferkey (super sister) for enthusiastically reading the drafts and always keeping faith!

  Thank you to my mother, Christine Cafferkey, for encouraging me to write, to write some more and not to stop – and that is only the start of where the thanks are due to you both!

  Thank you to Sean, Roisin, Tomas and Cristin – for being inspirational, supportive, patient and just lovely, all of you! To James, you make everything just right.

  Finally, thanks to you, the reader, for choosing my book, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!

  Faith Hogan

  About Faith Hogan

  FAITH HOGAN lives in the west of Ireland with her husband, four children and two very fussy cats. She has an Hons Degree in English Literature and Psychology, has worked as a fashion model and in the intellectual disability and mental health sector.

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  First published in the UK in 2016 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Faith Hogan, 2016

  The moral right of Faith Hogan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN (E) 9781784977153

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