Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (29 page)

‘No, it’s Katie he’ll be pissed about,’ Abbie told him. ‘She was his girlfriend once – for all of one date.’

‘Really?’

Kate sighed. ‘Alas, yes – last year. I was young and very foolish. But all Gavin ever talked about was money and cars … and himself. Unbearable.’ She touched Luke’s arm. ‘It meant nothing. Believe me.’

He did believe her but couldn’t help wondering if she’d slept with Gavin. Stupid male jealousy. The git was still staring at them. Luke couldn’t resist – he smiled and winked. Gone were the days he’d be made to feel inferior.

Still wearing their glasses, Tim and Al crammed into the space left by Abbie as she ran to the stage.

‘Luke, my man!’ screeched Tim. ‘That song was in your honour.’

‘Luke’s Irish, not Scottish, you drunken dimwit!’ said Al.

‘Well, they’re all Celts, aren’t they?’ insisted Tim. ‘Oops … time for the ear plugs.’ He pointed to the stage, where Abbie was singing ‘I will survive’.

‘More than we will then,’ called her brother, thumping the table. ‘Right, I need beer! This performer’s thirsty!’

‘I’ll get us a round,’ volunteered Kate. When she reached the bar, Luke watched as Gavin slipped from his stool and put his arm around her. Kate immediately shrugged it off, but the cocky git just grinned and whispered something in her ear before moving towards the stage. Luke was vaguely aware of Abbie returning to the table, declaring, ‘I don’t know why I put myself through that every week.’

‘Put
us
through it, you mean,’ said Al.

Abbie gave him an exaggerated smile and poked her tongue out.

A moment later, Gavin took the mic and started to sing ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’.

‘Oh God,’ said Abbie, pretending to throw up. ‘And tonight, Matthew, I’m going to be … a complete tosser.’

It was obvious the song was aimed at Kate. The prat was looking across at her as he sang.

‘Alcohol!’ cried Al, grabbing a bottle from the tray as Kate returned to the table. ‘Thank God! Need something to dull the senses when he’s on!’

When Gavin finished singing, there was muted applause, mainly from his friends and some young girls who must have been out on day release. He bowed. ‘Thank you, fans. Now we all know that karaoke night is a big part of our social week, and to really enjoy it – to belong – you have to sing.’ Gavin switched his attention to Luke. ‘If he’s going to be a regular, then he’s got to give us a song. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you – Luke Kiernan – or Stewart – or whatever.’

There was silence, and Luke felt everyone in the room was watching, waiting to see how he would respond.

‘Shut up!’ hissed Matt. ‘No one
has
to sing.’

Luke got up, though, and made his way to the stage. He’d show them.

Gavin handed him the mic. ‘How about ‘Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves’?’ he said. His friends laughed and banged their table.

Luke ignored them. He’d found the song he was looking for and smiled reassuringly at Kate. He knew he had an appealing voice. It ran in the family. Gavin had no idea Luke was used to singing in public. He enjoyed it. He’d done it in bars, or on evenings when he and other Travellers would make their own entertainment. He tried to imagine he was back there, with his mother and their friends.

‘Go on, son!’ shouted Tony. ‘Your mother stood in that very spot and sang for us – and bloody good she was, too.’

Luke focused on Kate. Gavin had purposely directed a love song at her. Two could play that game. Chatter in the bar died away and the smile disappeared from Gavin’s face as Luke sang his mother’s favourite song, ‘You Light Up My Life.’ He didn’t take his eyes off Kate, and not just for Gavin’s benefit – the lyrics summed up his feelings so well that he became lost in them. He wanted Kate, wanted everyone, to know exactly how he felt.

When he’d finished, there was silence at first, then applause. Matt was grinning, and Tim and Al were whooping and banging the table. Kate came onto the stage and threw her arms around him. ‘That was wonderful!’

‘Stay here,’ said Luke. ‘This one’s for you as well.’ He quickly showed Matt the song he wanted, and then launched into ‘Uptown Girl’. Al and Tim jumped up and joined in as Kate strutted across the stage, acting the role perfectly. Luke had achieved exactly what he wanted. Let people throw his background at him. This song would show them he didn’t care. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, and anyone who had a problem with it could take a hike.

The music ended to more applause, and Tim and Al bowed several times, saying with false modesty ‘It was nothing – really.’

Back at the table, Tim said, ‘Shall we say ten per cent?’

‘What?’ asked Luke, puzzled.

‘Stick with me, kid – I can make you a star. Or … I’ve just had this
great
idea! We could start our own band! You can be lead vocal – you look like you’ve just stepped out of a boy band anyway. I can play guitar and so can Matt. Al can learn the drums. We’ll be a tribute band! Call ourselves
Vestlife
and promote my T-shirts at the same time! What do you say?’

‘I’ll think about it.’ Luke was laughing so hard his ribs ached, but the pain was worth it. At that moment, he felt he belonged.

‘Your little scheme backfired there,’ Al challenged Gavin, who was heading for the door. ‘Luke beat you hands down!’

Gavin shrugged. ‘Amateur night crap.’

‘That includes you then,’ said Abbie.

‘Shut your mouth, slag!’

Before he could think about it, Luke grabbed a pint of beer and threw the remains at his cousin. Gavin looked startled but then grabbed Luke’s T-shirt and yanked him to his feet. Christ, the pain in his ribs! For a second he was back in Ennis facing Joe, and he headbutted Gavin, who fell backwards, blood streaming from his nose.

Matt was on the scene in seconds. He didn’t seem to care Gavin was hurt because he jerked him to his feet and thrust him into the arms of his approaching friends. ‘Get him out of here – now!’

Gavin’s face was a bloody mess, and he glared at Luke. ‘You’ll regret that, pikey,’ he spat. ‘I’ll bring your world crashing down.’

‘Fuck off, Gavin!’ said Matt.

‘You can’t order me around!’ Gavin was wiping his nose with a handful of paper napkins he’d grabbed from a nearby table. ‘This isn’t your pub.’

‘No, but it is mine and I want you out of it,’ said Tony Hayes. ‘You’re barred.’

‘But it was that gypo who hit Gavin!’ said one of Gavin’s mates.

‘He’s been begging for a fight and he got one,’ said Matt. ‘Now, piss off!’

Glaring at Matt and Luke, Gavin spat on the floor. ‘Let’s go before the Chuckle Brothers make me throw up.’

When they’d gone, Luke slumped back into his seat. He felt sick.

‘All right, bro?’ asked Matt, sitting down in the seat opposite. ‘What happened? First Richard, now Gavin. It’s becoming a habit. Great targets, though.’

‘Luke defended me!’ said Abbie. ‘That bastard Gavin insulted me!’

‘Luke, you’re a regular knight in shining armour,’ murmured Al, looking impressed.

Luke was no hero. What he’d just done – getting into a fight – was everything he despised. Why had he allowed Gavin to get to him?

‘Gavin grabbed him,’ said Kate. ‘It was hit or be hit.’

Kate was wrong. If he hadn’t thrown the drink at Gavin, it was likely nothing would have happened. He’d lost his temper, and not because Gavin had insulted Abbie, but because he’d been flirting with Kate.

The others smiled, but the evening had ended badly and it was Luke’s fault. He turned to Kate. ‘Can we go?’

As Luke headed out, several hands patted him on the shoulder. People were saying ‘Well done’ and ‘Good lad’. He’d never felt such a fraud.

‘Luke,’ called Matt from the door, just as they got outside. ‘That first song, ‘You Light Up My Life’ …’

‘Mam’s favourite,’ Luke told him. ‘Though it made her cry.’

‘Just wondered,’ said Matt. ‘Last time someone sang it, Dad was here and walked out. He was in a foul mood for days.’

Proof that Jack loved Annie – or hated her? Luke was too upset to try and fathom things out. He followed Kate to the car, thinking about what Gavin had said.
I’ll bring your world crashing down
. He’d need to watch his back.

Ten o’clock on the village green and May Day was about to kick off. Luke was with Tim in front of a makeshift stage. The Baronsmere brass band started to play.

‘That sounds like ‘Thriller’,’ said Luke. ‘Not very May Day, is it?’

‘Totally May Day.’ Tim was swigging vodka from a lemonade bottle. ‘Because this place is full of the living dead. All prone to acts of reckless violence.’

‘Bet she’s the worst,’ joked Luke, as an old biddy with a blue rinse tottered past.

‘Sadie Nelson,’ observed Tim. ‘Definitely. Last year, her dahlias were passed over so she whacked the judge with her handbag. I thought she was barred this year.’

Luke grinned. He didn’t always take Tim seriously but his entertainment value was priceless. May Day looked like it would be fun. Clowns, jugglers and merry-go-rounds, just like the big horse fairs. Tony Hayes waved to Luke then turned back to the sign he was hammering up over a stall that read ‘Madame Zelda: Fortune Teller’.

‘Madame Zelda’s really Babs Hayes,’ Tim told Luke. ‘She wears a headscarf and hooped earrings. Last year, she told me a temperamental woman would come into my life.’

‘And did she?’

‘Well, I was hoping it might be Lady Gaga. That she’d somehow become my New Best Friend. But it never happened. Ma did get Suki, the Pekingese, last year, though. And that’s one bitch with serious attitude problems. The dog, not my ma. So maybe it did come true.’

Following a drum roll, an announcement from the stage told people to take their seats.

‘Show time!’ cried Tim, as people started to climb the side stairs to the stage. ‘That’s the May Day organising committee. The parents wanted me up there to represent them in their absence. Told them I’d rather stick my head in boiling chip fat.’

Luke scowled when he saw Grace Stewart in the middle of the front row, her hat so big it should have had its own seat. And there was Old Nick, smiling down at the common folk. Patronising git.

Another drum roll, and a short, stocky man with an obvious hairpiece stepped up to the microphone.

Tim offered the lemonade bottle to Luke. ‘Want some?’

Luke shook his head.

‘You might regret it,’ Tim warned. ‘The speeches have been known to turn the normally sane into gibbering wrecks.’

Hairpiece started talking. ‘Welcome one and all to Baronsmere’s May Day Festival. A tradition that has graced this green – this jewel of a corner of England – for well over a hundred years. Times may change but May Day in Baronsmere is timeless. A chance for our community to come together and celebrate its most cherished values – compassion, decency, good sportsmanship.’

‘Who is he?’ asked Luke.

‘Our mayor,’ Tim told him. ‘Horace Henderson. “Hungry Horace” we call him. Short on height, big on ambition. Napoleon complex.’

‘This great day would not have been possible without generous contributions from …’ Horace then started giving out more names than the phone book. Luke glanced across at Tim. The vodka was taking effect. As the speech continued, Tim dozed off and then jerked awake at each round of clapping.

Ten minutes later, Luke poked Tim in the ribs. ‘He’s windin’ up now.’

Tim looked at his watch. ‘God is merciful. Horace’s speeches can rival
War and Peace
.’

The mayor apologised for his wife’s non-attendance, saying she was indisposed. Tim nudged Luke. ‘Dipso, he means. She’s currently drying out in a Swiss clinic.’

‘In her absence,’ droned Horace, ‘Lady Grace Stewart has kindly offered to speak on behalf of the organising committee.’

‘Oooh!’ said Tim, straightening up in his chair. ‘Old Grace must have pulled some fast moves. According to rank, it should have been Lady Middleton. In fact, Lady M looks a bit puce – she must be furious.’

‘Well, the Stewarts are experts at shafting people,’ Luke commented bitterly as Grace stepped up to the microphone.

‘Oooh!’ exclaimed Tim again. ‘Perhaps Grace actually shafted the mayor!’

When Grace started speaking, Luke had to go. ‘I can’t sit through this, Tim. I’m going for a walk.’

Tim stood up, too. ‘No problem, mate. I’ll come with you. We’ll go raid the cake stalls, then get smashed.’

The showjumping event was over. Kate smiled for the cameras, nudging Petruchio’s head round so the blue rosette showed. Second place. A knock-down on the last fence. Last year, she would have been inconsolable. This year, losing didn’t matter. All she cared about was Luke, standing by the paddock fence, clapping madly.

‘You were wonderful, both of you,’ he told her as he caught her up in a close embrace. She clasped her hands around his neck and savoured a long, sweet kiss.

‘I’ll take Petruchio back to the stables,’ said Kate, ‘then I’ll get changed. Don’t want to spend the rest of the day in jodhpurs.’

Luke nodded. ‘I’ll wait near The Great Oak in about an hour.’

At that moment, Gavin appeared, face like thunder, and bearing the evidence of Luke’s headbutt the night before. If he tried to spoil this day, she’d swing for him.

‘Piece of shit!’ he called, staring directly at Luke. Then he added, ‘On the ground, I mean. Watch your step.’

‘Something certainly smells around here!’ snapped Kate, pushing past Gavin, hoping Petruchio would give him a crippling backward kick.

She felt Luke’s arm slide round her waist. ‘Ignore him. We’ll not let him spoil our day.’

‘You’re right,’ Kate agreed, and kissed him goodbye. Missing him already, she set about boxing Petruchio. She’d just finished when she smelled a familiar perfume behind her.

‘Hello, Kate.’

She turned round to face her mother, who was glam as ever in red silk, but her eyes were sad. Kate tried to push away a stab of guilt. ‘Hi, Mum.’

Sarah smiled. ‘Congratulations on your rosette.’

‘Thanks.’

The silence swelled and filled the space between them. They’d once shared everything; now they were struggling with small talk. ‘Well, I’d better get Petruchio back to the stables …’

‘Come home, Kate – please!’ Sarah’s voice was desperate. ‘This is all wrong. We shouldn’t let things come between us.’

‘I don’t
want
anything to come between us, Mum, but you’ll have to accept Luke.’

Sarah shook her head. ‘I can’t. Don’t ask me to do that. It’s not possible. He’s wrong for you …’

Now Kate shook her head. ‘You expect me to do what you want, but you haven’t given me one good reason. Why are you so against Luke? He’s a
good
person. Give him a chance!’ She willed her mother to understand.

‘Kate, he doesn’t fit in here. He never will. They won’t accept him. You’re being selfish, making him stay …’

Kate backed away, not wanting to hear any more. Sarah reached out but Kate dodged her grasp and ran to the truck door. Kate’s last vision before she drove away was of her mother, head down, and shoulders quivering. Kate couldn’t remember when she’d last seen Sarah cry.

Luke climbed the slope to The Great Oak, Baronsmere’s oldest tree. Kate wasn’t there yet and the big showpiece was about to begin. He called her number but it went straight to message. Hopefully she was driving back. He leaned against the tree, looking at the fancy VIP tent. Only snobs allowed in there. No champagne for the plebs. Still, their perfect little world was about to be disrupted thanks to Duncan Gilroy – and Tim, who’d covered the costs of this part of the protest. He was a bit of a rebel on the quiet.

Luke glanced at his watch. Three o’clock. Right on time, he heard a dull roar in the distance. It grew louder. He stood up and a rush of cold air blasted over him as a helicopter passed over and circled the village green. There were shrieks as paper cups and food wrappers swirled crazily in the updraught, marquees flapping dangerously. Leaflets scattered down over the green. Luke picked one up and read the impassioned plea for people to stand against the Woodlands development, to care about the affected residents and their rights.

Glancing across the green, Luke saw the bigwigs come out of their marquee to see what was happening. Grace was among them, looking fit to spit. She was having to clamp her stupid great hat to her head to keep it from blowing away in the wind from the circling helicopter. Luke caught her eye and couldn’t resist giving her a smile and a little wave. He was determined to stare her down, and felt great satisfaction when she eventually turned away.

‘Kiernans, one, Stewarts, nil,’ he muttered, then turned as he heard footsteps behind him scrunching through the scattered leaflets. He’d expected to see Kate but it was Gavin. Luke clenched his fists, remembering his cousin’s words from yesterday.

‘Waiting for Kate?’ Gavin asked. ‘Probably having a quick shag somewhere. She’s a bit of a slapper. High class one, though.’

Luke wasn’t going to rise to that one. This time he’d not give in to his temper, but Gavin seemed set on trouble. ‘I don’t know how you have the nerve, pikey. Regular people wouldn’t do what you lot do. Still, it must make finding a date easier.’

‘Meaning?’ asked Luke.

Gavin smiled. ‘In the civilised world, we don’t shag our sisters.’

Luke’s mind replayed the words in shocked silence.

‘Did you hear me, pikey?’ asked Gavin. ‘Jack-is-Kate’s-
dad.
’

Luke couldn’t speak. His knees felt weak.

‘Course it might not matter – I’ve heard your mother spread it around a bit so you’re probably not even a Stewart … thank God.’

Gavin winked and walked away, whistling. Luke felt giddy and sank slowly to the ground, where he sat against The Great Oak in shock, the protest leaflets drifting around him.

Sarah wanted to be alone. Had snapped at a couple who’d tried to join her. Misery didn’t want company in this case. It didn’t even want a drink. Her glass of wine was untouched. She’d tried disappearing into the bottom of a bottle when Jack split up with her, but it hadn’t helped. Only postponed the inevitable. Baronsmere was a small place and she couldn’t avoid Jack forever. She was now trying to desensitise herself by watching him – from a discreet distance so she didn’t look like some sad stalker. He was queuing at the hot-dog stall. Trying to be your average Joe.

‘Sarah …’

God, why couldn’t people leave her in peace! She looked up, ready to snap at the intruder. It was Luke. Deathly pale and gripping the table for support. There was no sign of Kate. God, had there been an accident …?

‘Is it true?’ Luke’s voice was little more than a whisper.

‘What?’ she asked. There was a desperation in his eyes that scared her.

‘Is Kate Jack’s daughter? Gavin just told me that. Is it true?’

Sarah felt a brief flare of anger at Richard for breaking his word and telling the secret to Gavin, but then she realised this might be part of his plan to get rid of Luke. She also wanted Luke gone. This was a God-given opportunity.

‘Luke, I’m sorry …’ She saw the light of hope flicker and die from his eyes. The guilt was crushing. She’d have to live with it always. ‘Kate doesn’t know,’ she continued. ‘I don’t want her to. I— I don’t know how Gavin found out.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Sarah! Why didn’t you tell
me
, before—’

‘I tried to warn Kate,’ Sarah protested, ‘but she thought I was prejudiced. I’m not, believe me. I have nothing against you, Luke, but I couldn’t tell Kate the truth. Or Jack. I didn’t want him to be with me out of obligation. If you love Kate, you won’t tell her either, Luke. Please.’ That was low but might ensure his silence.

His shoulders were slumped, his head down. It was obvious how much he cared for Kate, and Sarah felt a lump in her throat. Luke was still grieving for his mother, and now this. For a moment, she wavered. But it was too late.

Luke glanced up again and now there was bitterness in his eyes. ‘Kate’s two months older than me. You were screwin’ Jack when he was with my mam. Is that why she left?’

‘I-I don’t know, Luke. I don’t know why Annie left.’

She glanced across at the hot-dog stall. Jack was still there. Luke followed her gaze, and then he abruptly left the table and walked across the green. Sarah watched, mortified, as Luke’s fist connected with his father’s jaw. Jack staggered backwards but was caught by two bystanders. Luke shouted something, turned on his heel, and marched away, his expression part anger, part misery. Sarah was full of self-loathing. ‘Oh, God,’ she thought, as the enormity of what she’d done hit her. She grabbed the wine glass and drained it. ‘Bitch,’ she cursed herself.

It took every ounce of willpower to concentrate on driving. Living didn’t figure very highly on Luke’s list of priorities, but he didn’t want to kill anyone. Or smash up Tim’s car. He’d surely broken the speed limit leaving the village green after hitting Jack. Not that being arrested for assault bothered him. He just wanted to get away quickly, to put distance between himself and the Stewarts.

It all fitted. Sarah had been apologetic, seemed guilty. Genuine guilt surely, because she’d been almost nice to him. Maybe Kate’s fair hair and green eyes should have given him a clue. Jack had deserved that punch, the bastard, though Luke had probably ruined any relationship with Matt and he
was
sorry about that.

Luckily, Luke still had a key to Jack’s house. Expecting someone to turn up any minute, he moved fast, taking the thirty thousand euro from the safe and stashing it in one of Matt’s sports bags. The dogs were barking and he wanted to go and fuss them one last time but couldn’t risk it.

Twenty minutes later he was back at the Leighton’s, shoving his few belongings into the sports bag. He tried not to look at the unmade bed, tried not to think of Kate and what he couldn’t have. He didn’t leave a note. He’d text her to say goodbye when he was well clear. He couldn’t just disappear from her life without a word. He’d text Tim, too, to tell him where the car was. He paused for a moment and looked around sadly, before finally closing the door on his brief stay in Baronsmere, and his even briefer life with Kate.

And now what? His long-term future had little meaning. He wasn’t even sure he’d have one, but he had something to do first. He’d wondered how to do some good with the money and had suddenly thought of Jessie. Thinking about that kept him focused, able to reach his destination in one piece.