His eyes searched hers. ‘Why do I feel you’re keeping a mountain of things locked up in there?’ He tapped the side of her head.
She shook her head as tears filled her eyes.
‘You know that you can tell me anything, Sinéad. I’m on your side, I always will be.’
‘Will you?’ she asked, hoping it was true.
‘You know I will. Can I ask you something?’
She nodded nervously.
‘Did Bridie beat you?’
She smiled, relieved. ‘No, Dylan. She had a temper and was intolerant and we got the odd slap across the legs or backside but that’s all. It was a hell of a shock at the time, though. Mum had never laid a finger on us. She was a bit of a hippie, I think, certainly very different from my friends’ mothers. There were no real rules in our house. We ate what we wanted, stayed out playing until late, went to bed when we felt like it. Sometimes she’d wake us up to see a beautiful moon or because there was a good movie on TV. She was fun,’ Sinéad hesitated, ‘well, most of the time.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘I don’t remember him ever being that involved with us. He always seemed to be worried, especially about money. It was the only thing I remember them really fighting about.’
‘Have you ever talked to him about all of this, asked him about your mum?’
She laughed. ‘No. We don’t talk about Mum with Dad, we never have.’
‘Never?’ he asked, surprised
‘Never. It was tough on Max. He was so little when she died. He always wanted to hear stories about her but Dad would just change the subject or walk away and Bridie told us not to upset him.’
‘But that was a ridiculous thing to tell children. You were only nine?’
‘Yes and Max had just turned seven. It sounds bad now but we just accepted it the way kids do. And Sheila was great. When we were alone she’d tell Max stories about when he was a baby and how much Mum loved him. I think there was as much fiction as fact in her stories but I didn’t contradict her. The stories made Max happy and I enjoyed them too. I didn’t want to forget my mother.’
He pulled her tight against him and she rested her head on his chest, so glad that he was here, that, despite her weirdness, she hadn’t scared him away.
‘You are one very screwed-up family,’ he said, kissing her hair.
‘We are,’ she murmured, closing her eyes.
‘If we’re going we’d better get a move on, Sinéad.’ He pulled back and looked at her. ‘Are we going?’
She sighed, then nodded. She would go for Max’s sake. She and Sheila had protected him when he was little and she’d never been able to kick the habit. ‘Sure, let’s go, but keep my glass filled!’
The others were already gathered at the bar in Roly’s waiting for them. Sinéad smiled and hugged Krystie and her brother, pressed her cheek to Beth’s, congratulating her, and gave her father a quick peck before turning back to the group. ‘Krystie, you look lovely.’ She smiled affectionately. Although they hadn’t even had time to discuss what they were wearing tonight, Krystie looked gorgeous and chic in the hat she’d made for her and a fabulous minidress almost the same shade as the wine she was drinking.
Krystie winked at her. ‘We’re never off duty, right?’
‘Right,’ Sinéad laughed. Despite her dark mood today she had put some time into doing her hair and makeup and wore a black headpiece to match her little black dress.
‘You both look beautiful.’ Beth beamed at them. ‘You make me feel very dowdy.’
‘Rubbish, you never look dowdy.’ Krystie laughed. ‘And turquoise really suits you.’
‘You all look great,’ Kieran said, looking proud as punch.
Sinéad’s eyes were drawn to Max, who was unusually quiet and seemed tense, very different from the man who’d been in the studio earlier. She watched Krystie put her hand on his arm, looking up at him with concerned eyes, and saw him patting it and giving her a reassuring smile. Sinéad tried to catch her brother’s eye but his attention seemed to be on Beth, who had never been here before and was studying the menu and asking for recommendations.
‘I usually have the bisque to start,’ Dylan offered.
‘And you can’t go wrong with the fillet of beef,’ her father added. ‘Have you been here before, Krystie?’
‘Just once.’
Was it Sinéad’s imagination or was the girl’s smile rather cool? Again, she tried to make eye contact with Max but he had turned to Dylan and they were talking about football. She moved slightly so she stood beside her father rather than facing him. She couldn’t look at him, not tonight. She took a gulp of wine and raised her eyes to find Krystie looking at her with sad eyes. She raised a questioning eyebrow and got an embarrassed smile back in return before Krystie stuck her head over Beth’s shoulder and pretended interest in the menu.
‘I’m glad you like Beth, sweetheart, she’s a good woman,’ her father said quietly.
Sinéad hesitated before nodding her agreement. ‘She is, Dad, you’re lucky.’
He put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. ‘I’ve always been lucky. Sure, look at the wonderful family I have.’
She was struggling to come up with a reply when Dylan appeared at her side.
‘Our table’s ready.’
She gave him a grateful smile and took his outstretched hand. ‘This is going to be difficult,’ she murmured as they followed a waiter to the table. ‘Have you noticed how quiet Max is?’
‘Yeah but I assumed he and Krystie had a tiff.’
‘On the contrary,’ Sinéad said. ‘I think he may well be on the point of popping the question himself.’ Perhaps that’s why Max seemed jumpy, but it didn’t explain why Krystie was cool with Dad – they’d hit it off from the first time they’d met. ‘Sit opposite me, Dylan,’ she whispered, sitting at the end of the table as the others approached, and then beckoned Krystie to sit beside her.
‘No, the happy couple should be in the middle,’ Max said and held the chair next to Dylan for Beth.
‘Oh, thank you very much, young man,’ she laughed.
Kieran took the seat next to Sinéad. ‘Isn’t this nice?’
‘Lovely,’ Sinéad said with a shiver, and shot Dylan a grateful look when he topped up her glass.
It was a relief that Beth was such a chatty woman, and Sinéad sat back and relaxed as Dylan and Krystie drew her out about her son and his family and her upcoming trip to see them in Australia.
‘I can’t believe you’ve never been on a plane,’ Krystie said.
‘And you’re starting with a long-haul flight,’ Dylan chuckled.
‘Don’t,’ Beth shuddered. ‘I’m nervous enough as it is.’
‘And it won’t be her first flight,’ her dad said.
‘It won’t?’ Beth looked at him.
‘No,’ Kieran said with a delighted smile. ‘I’m taking you to Paris next weekend.’
‘What?’ She spluttered her wine and dabbed her mouth with her napkin.
‘Oh, please,’ Max said quietly, and Krystie’s hand shot out to take his.
Sinéad watched him nod silently and take a drink but she felt her father stiffen.
‘Something wrong, son?’ he asked.
‘No, Dad.’
‘Because if you’ve something to say—’
‘I’ve nothing to say,’ Max said, looking him straight in the eye, ‘other than congratulations and I hope the two of you will have a long and happy life together.’
He raised his glass and the others quickly joined in. Sinéad hesitated a moment but when his eyes met hers in a silent message she smiled at Beth, said congratulations and took a sip of her wine. There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then Krystie jumped in to fill it. ‘Have you decided when and where to have the ceremony?’ she asked, directing the question at Beth.
Sinéad looked at the woman, whose eyes were locked on her father.
‘We thought we should wait a while and see if Phili
p’s investigators had any luck,’ he said quietly.
It was the first time her brother-in-law had been mentioned. Despite the awkwardness they seemed unified in not wanting him around at the moment.
‘I wouldn’t hold my breath,’ Sinéad couldn’t help saying.
‘Sinéad.’
She looked up and saw the warning look in Max’s eyes. ‘Sorry, Beth, Dad, that’s not a topic for a celebration dinner.’
Her dad patted her hand. ‘I understand, love. We’re all anxious for news of your sister.’
‘I’m sure it won’t be long now,’ Krystie said, leaning forward so she could see Sinéad. ‘Operation Manhattan will take care of that.’
‘Operation Manhattan?’ Kieran looked from Krystie to Sinéad.
Krystie mouthed sorry as she realised she’d put her foot in it.
‘I’m putting together a collection and targeting the big Manhattan stores,’ Sinéad explained. ‘I thought it might draw Sheila out.’
‘I think that’s unlikely,’ Kieran said, looking amused.
Max banged down his glass. ‘Don’t laugh at her. At least she’s trying to do something to find Sheila.’
‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean, that I’m not?’
‘Kieran, I’m sure Max didn’t mean that,’ Beth said, and then turned her eyes on Sinéad. ‘I think it’s a great idea, Sinéad.’
Her father sat in silence looking slightly shocked that his fiancée had put him in his place.
Dylan reached for the bottle, but it was empty. ‘Anyone for more wine?’ There was silence.
He cleared his throat. ‘Er, perhaps not.’
After they had put Dad and Beth in a taxi they stood around outside the restaurant, Dylan and Krystie withdrawing a little to give brother and sister a moment alone.
Sinéad looked worriedly at Max. ‘What’s wrong?’
He let out a long sigh. ‘We need to talk.’
She bit her lip and nodded. ‘Come back to our place.’
‘Perhaps we should leave it until tomorrow . . .’
‘No, Max, please, I won’t sleep a wink.’
‘Okay,’ he agreed and, hailing a taxi, gestured to the others, ‘let’s go.’
Chapter Thirty-three
Back in Mount Merrion, Sinéad made coffee and organised drinks, and Max watched on in amusement when Krystie spied a chess set and challenged Dylan to a game. He leaned on the back of her chair as they settled down to play, and exchanged stunned looks with Dylan when she took his bishop after only six moves. Was there anything this girl couldn’t do?
‘I never knew you played,’ he said, impressed.
She grinned up at him. ‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, darling.’
Sinéad handed her brother a mug of coffee and a whiskey. ‘Let’s take it inside.’
Krystie gave him a reassuring smile and he nodded and followed his sister.
‘So, what’s up? I thought I was the loose cannon in the family.’ Sinéad settled down in her usual spot on the sofa.
He drained his glass and put it on the table before sitting down opposite her, cradling the mug of coffee between his hands. God, this was hard.
‘Come on, Max, you’re freaking me out here.’ Her smile wavered.
‘I went to see the solicitor this morning about Bridie’s estate.’
‘Oh, I’d forgotten all about that,’ she admitted.
‘She’d left a letter for me.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘In it she says that Mum’s death wasn’t an accident.’
‘Oh.’
He watched her and saw distress and panic in her eyes but no surprise. She knew. She already bloody knew. ‘What the hell is going on, Sinéad? You knew that?’
She stared back at him before nodding. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was barely a whisper.
‘Oh Sinéad,’ he sighed. ‘Why would you keep something like that to yourself?’
‘Bridie warned me not to tell.’
He watched as both fear and guilt flashed across her face. He leaned forward on his knees. ‘Forget about Bridie, she’s dead now. Please tell me what you know, Sinéad. She was my mum too.’
She looked up at him and he gave her a nod of encouragement.
She started slowly, a tremor in her voice. ‘I woke up that night. Bridie’s snoring usually woke me. Sheila and I were on bunk beds in a room with her and you shared a bed with Mum in the other room – do you remember that?’
He smiled remembering how he’d loved to snuggle in to his mother’s warmth and breathe in her scent. ‘Yes, vaguely.’
‘Well, I couldn’t get back to sleep that night so I thought I’d climb in with you two, but Mum wasn’t there. I didn’t think too much about it but then I heard a noise and felt a breeze and so I went to have a look. Mum was standing at the door. She said she was going for a swim and that I should go back to sleep, and then she hugged me and left.’ Sinéad broke off, tears filling her eyes.
Max moved over onto the sofa and put his arm around her. ‘It’s okay, take your time.’
‘I hated her swimming at night, so I decided to sit up and wait. After about an hour, when there was no sign of her, I got scared and I decided to wake Aunty Bridie.’ Sinéad dragged her hand across her eyes. ‘That’s when I saw the note on the table.’
Oh, Jesus. Max stared at her. ‘Did you read it?’
Sinéad nodded. ‘I couldn’t make out most of it – her writing was terrible – but basically it was that Dad had broken her heart. That it was hard enough coping with all of his women but she couldn’t live with the fact that one of them was having his baby.’
‘That’s pretty much what Bridie’s letter says,’ Max told her, but Sinéad was obviously reliving that night.
‘I went and woke Aunty Bridie, showed her the note and told her what had happened. She took the note, told me not to mention it to anyone and said she would talk to me about it later. The important thing, she said, was to find Mum. You were still asleep but Sheila had woken when she heard the commotion. We wanted to go look for Mum too but Bridie made us stay with you and a neighbour came in to keep an eye on us.’
Sinéad slid down onto the floor and laid her head back on the sofa. The tears rolled steadily and silently down onto the leather and Max felt his own eyes water. He took her hand and stroked it as she talked.
‘We fell asleep and at some stage Bridie came to wake me and took me into the other room. She said that it didn’t look like Mum was coming back and I cried and cried. She said that it was very sad but it would make everyone, especially Daddy, even sadder if they knew about the note. She said he might even get into trouble because of it and then he would be taken away from us as well.’
‘The evil bitch,’ Max said, filled with impotent fury. ‘How could she do that to a nine-year-old?’
Sinéad sighed. ‘I suppose, however misguided, she thought she was doing the right thing.’
He stood up and started to pace the floor, pausing in the doorway. Krystie and Dylan seemed immersed in a second chess game. They looked very comfortable together and he felt a twinge of jealousy until Krystie turned and saw him and her face lit up. He smiled and then turned back to his sister. ‘What about this other woman and the baby?’
She shook her head. ‘No idea. Any time I asked Bridie, she said I was to put it out of my mind, and she warned that if Dad knew that we knew he might go and live with his new family. She made me swear not to tell anyone, not even Sheila.’ Sinéad sighed. ‘I don’t know if you remember, but she was always telling us not to bother Daddy about anything. She said if we wanted anything we should always come to her.’
He nodded. Sinéad was right. He remembered hearing those words all through his childhood. ‘How could she do it?’
‘Dad was hardly blameless, Max. He let it happen. God, I think every day for that first year I was afraid that he wouldn’t come home to us, that he’d go to live with his new family.’
Max dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I can
understand you worrying about that as a child or even a teenager, but why didn’t you confront him since?’
‘I loved him, I still do, Max, and he didn’t leave us, did he? I thought about saying something from time to time but it wouldn’t bring Mum back and our relationship would never recover from a conversation like that.’ She looked up at him. ‘Will you please stop pacing – you’re giving me a headache.’
‘Sorry.’ He dropped into an armchair.
She gave him a weary smile. ‘Me too. As for telling him about Mum’s note, I thought it would be very cruel after all that time to tell him, or any of you. I wonder . . .’
He looked up. ‘What?’
She was frowning. ‘Why did Bridie decide to tell you now? What was the point?’
He thought about that. The only reason he could think of was that she wanted to die with a clear conscience. ‘She said that she needed to set the record straight before she died. Perhaps she felt she had let Mum down by covering up Dad’s part in her death.’
Sinéad looked at him. ‘Or perhaps she just wanted to get even with Dad.’
After they’d waved off Max and Krystie, Sinéad fell into Dylan’s arms, and though she felt exhausted, she told him everything.
‘Why didn’t you tell me before, Sinéad?’ he asked when she was finished.
She shook her head. ‘I haven’t spoken about it for twenty years, Dylan, why start now?’
‘So if Bridie hadn’t died you wouldn’t have said anything?’ Dylan looked at her, incredulous.
‘Probably not.’
He leaned in to kiss her. ‘I don’t know whether I feel impressed, shocked or horrified – probably a little of all three.’
She frowned. ‘Why are you impressed?’
‘You must be a very strong person to have come through all that and –’ his lips twitched – ‘still remain relatively normal.’
She laughed. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘You’re amazing and I love you.’
‘I love you too, Dylan,’ she said, and nestled into the safety and comfort of his embrace.
Krystie put her hand on Max’s thigh as the taxi took them back to his apartment in Donnybrook. ‘Are you okay?’
First We Take Manhattan Page 28
