Heartstones (27 page)

‘If you and my dad get married we could all stay in the Castle and I won’t have to go to live with Grandma Stick.’ Honey didn’t look at Phoebe, instead she concentrated on forming an
N
, perfect but for the fact that it was backwards.

‘What makes you think we’re going to get married?’ asked Phoebe in surprise.

‘Because you like each other; I can tell.’

‘How?’

Honey shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, you go a funny red colour when you see him, and he doesn’t call you a bloody nuisance any more – instead he says
I wonder what Phoebe’s up to today
.’ She put on a deep voice to imitate Theo’s and Phoebe laughed.

‘And he is shaving more often, I am noticing,’ said Katrina, grinning as she poured a pint of Guinness for Swedish Jan at the other end of the bar.

‘And he came in to the wife for a trim the other day,’ said Molly from the Hair Hut’s husband.

‘I’d say he has a funny air about him – you know, the one that men get when they get a mind to be courting,’ Young John called out from his seat in the corner.

‘And when I passed him coming out of the boathouse this morning he was whistling,’ added Swedish Jan. ‘And that wasn’t long after I’d met you dancing up the lane.’

Phoebe felt herself blush. Why did she ever think she’d be able to have any secrets in Carraigmore?

‘So, will you marry my dad then?’ Honey stared at Phoebe’s face, and, glancing around, Phoebe realised that everyone was looking at her, waiting for an answer. With huge relief Phoebe heard the bar door open with its familiar creak, any distraction would be welcome, she thought. Within seconds all eyes had turned from Phoebe towards the gorgeous apparition that stood in the doorway.

Molly from the Hair Hut’s husband looked as though he might collapse with lust, Young John straightened his cap and tie; even Swedish Jan had a look of admiration in his eyes. A woman had appeared – high-heeled boots, skinny legs in skinny jeans and a silk shirt unbuttoned to reveal a generous amount of cleavage.

Surveying the room from behind huge sunglasses, the woman tossed back a mane of long blonde hair and strode over to the bar. It was only when the woman had taken off her sunglasses and was standing right in front of her that Phoebe realised it was Nola.

Chapter Twenty-six

‘My goodness, Nola; I hardly recognise you,’ Phoebe had recovered enough to be able to speak, even though she wasn’t quite ready to answer Nola’s ‘
What the bloody hell are you doing here?
’ question.

Nola smoothed her shirt over her astonishingly flat stomach and smiled. ‘Its amazing what a loss of appetite and intensive Zumba can achieve.’ Phoebe looked Nola up and down, taking in the manicured nails, white teeth, perfect make-up, and a tan that looked far too deep to have been the result of an English summer. For the first time in her adult life Phoebe felt fat and frumpy next to her sister.

‘Are Steve and the children with you?’ Phoebe asked.

‘Steve who?’ Nola tossed her mane of hair again, some of it swished against Molly from the Hair Hut’s husband’s face – he looked delighted and Honey was staring, open-mouthed in awe. Phoebe wondered if Nola had had hair extensions, it couldn’t possibly have grown that much in the four months since she’d last seen her. ‘Steve is no longer part of my life,’ Nola continued. ‘Apart from Friday nights when he picks up the children.’

‘You’ve split up?’ Phoebe was aware that the three men and Katrina had managed to shuffle up to her end of bar, and that they were all obviously listening to the conversation with great interest. Nola didn’t seem to care.

‘Split up?’ spat Nola through scarlet lips. ‘It was less of a split and more of a bloody big kick out of the door from me!’ She banged her red-nailed-hand down on the bar as though she were giving it a slap. Phoebe noticed the men flinch.

‘I’m sorry, Nola,’ Phoebe said. ‘I always thought you had a good marriage; I mean I know that you felt you could have achieved more career-wise, but Steve seemed like …’

‘A deceitful adulterous bastard!’ interrupted Nola, ‘Who thought nothing of offering comfort to my best friend by regularly –’ she paused and glanced at Honey, whose eyes were saucer-wide with interest in what Nola had to say, ‘by regularly giving her more attention than a married man ought to. Trying to help her over her grief he said, like he was some sort of patron saint of widowed women. I wouldn’t mind but he’d been having an affair with her long before David was actually dead!’

‘Oh!’ Phoebe felt stunned; Sandra had been having an affair all along. Had David known about Steve and Sandra? Had Sandra known about Phoebe and David?

‘Apparently it all started last summer. Steve said he was only trying to comfort Sandra when she discovered David was having an affair with the peripatetic music-teacher.’

Phoebe put a hand on the bar to steady herself. Had David really been having an affair with Debbie Richards, the buxom music teacher, fresh from college, who came to teach the juniors guitar and recorder? Phoebe couldn’t believe it; at the same time as having an affair with her he’d been sleeping with Debbie Richards! A wave of something awful washed over her – something that Phoebe couldn’t even identify, just a dreadful emotion or maybe several dreadful emotions all at the same time.

Nola watched her as though she knew what Phoebe was going through. Her voice softened, ‘Sorry Pheebs, it seems like Sandra wasn’t the only person David was cheating on.’

‘But I thought that David was your fella,’ said Young John pointing an arthritic finger at Phoebe.

‘What?’ Nola turned to Young John.

‘Hush, John,’ Katrina’s voice was a stage whisper. ‘I am thinking there are many mans called David in England. I don’t think they are talking about Phoebe’s husband.’

‘Phoebe’s husband?’ Nola was looking at Phoebe again.

‘How are the children?’ asked Phoebe loudly. ‘They must be terribly upset.’

‘Oh they’re all right,’ Nola gave a shrug. ‘Ruben’s fine as long as he’s plugged into some bit of technology, and Amy is too busy shortening her school skirt and worrying who’s said what on Facebook to really care.’

‘So you are friend of Phoebe?’ Katrina asked.

Nola snorted. ‘Maybe not a friend, but I am her big sister.’

There was a prolonged chorus of
Ohhh
s from the little group of spectators, then Katrina’s face broke into a smile. ‘Well you are very welcome, Phoebe’s sister.’ She turned to Phoebe. ‘You must have time off to be together. You go now, its not like we are running off our foot today.’

‘Can I come with you?’ asked Honey.

‘No, sweetie,’ Phoebe heard Katrina say as she walked into the kitchen to fetch her jacket. ‘I think that Phoebe and her sister need to be on their selves for a while.’

Phoebe felt that she probably needed to be on herself for a while without anyone with her at all. Nola’s revelations had sent her reeling; Debbie Richards had been like a full-on blow to her stomach. Phoebe fumbled with her jacket buttons and wondered if she should pour herself a glass of Katrina’s cooking brandy.

‘Are you coming, Phoebe?’ Nola’s voice called loudly from the bar.

With a promise to Katrina that she’d be back for the evening shift, Phoebe followed her transformed sister out of the door.

‘So you’re a barmaid in Fibber Flannigan’s pub?’ Nola put her sunglasses back on even though dark clouds now blocked out the sun. ʻThat must be very taxing.ʼ Phoebe didn’t answer but Nola noticed her scowl.

‘What? All I’m saying is that bar work isn’t very challenging, especially in a pub like Fibber Flannigan’s. I remember one of that film director’s sons taking me there for a drink one night. I sneaked out after you and Mum and Dad were asleep. They were having a lock-in and I got out of my under-age head on Cinzano.’ Nola hooted with laughter. ‘I remember the film director’s son snogged me on the way home, and asked if I fancied a holiday in their place in Malibu – told me he’d introduce me to some film stars. I told him he wasn’t my type – God, I was a cocky little thing back then, how did I ever end up with two sulky kids and Steve on a Lego estate in the back of beyond?’ She kicked at a stone as they turned down the lane. ‘Fibber Flannigan’s was a real spit and sawdust place then, actually it still looks just the same.’

‘Which one?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Which son took you?’

‘Oh, I can’t really remember his name, Oscar or Owen or something.’

‘Oliver?’

‘Oh yeah, Oliver; that was it.’

Phoebe felt relieved. ‘So what brings you here?’

‘What brings you, more like? I was sure you’d be off meditating in some ashram or stoned in some illegal squat in Sydney. You know, the sort of thing you usually do.’

‘Nola, I did those sorts of things years ago. I’ve held down a respectable job as a primary school teacher since then, remember?’

Nola raised her eyebrows and said nothing. Phoebe knew that she was thinking that she only held down the primary school job because of David. She didn’t want to get into a fight with Nola now.

‘Are we headed for the boathouse?’ Nola asked.

‘Yes,’ said Phoebe, wondering if Theo would have unpacked the kiln yet. She would love to show Nola the pots she’d decorated, that’d show her that her art college degree hadn’t been wasted.

‘That’s good,’ Nola smiled. ‘Because that’s why I’m here. I’ve been talking to the lawyer who’s handling my divorce and she says we should be able to get Granny’s will revoked so that we could sell the boathouse after all these years – though of course not until my divorce is through; I don’t want Steve using it as one of my assets. Anyway, I’ve already arranged for an estate agent in Kenmare to come over on Monday to value it.’

Phoebe was so stunned that the fury she felt inside lodged in her throat and prevented speech. How could Nola possibly think they could go against their grandmother’s wishes and sell it, anyway it was Phoebe’s home now? Phoebe decided to say nothing; she needed time to form her argument.

They passed the gates of the Castle and Nola stopped to peer through. ‘Look at that! If only it still belonged to us all my worries would be over. I’m absolutely desperate to get hold of some money; it looks like we’re going to have to sell the house. Ruben and Amy will never want to share a room and the prices of three-bed places round us is way beyond what I can mange on my receptionist’s salary.’

‘Where will Steve go?’ asked Phoebe.

‘Oh, he’s all nicely tucked up with Sandra. He
says
he’s happy but those twins are a real handful now and at weekends they have four kids in the house!’ Nola snorted. ‘Whenever I feel upset about what’s happened I just think of Steve and Sandra on a Sunday morning trying to contend with four squabbling children while I can lie in bed for as long as I like. Next week is half-term and Steve’s having the children for the whole seven days; I can’t wait to see what sort of state he’ll be in by the time I pick them up.’

‘Are you spying on my house?’ Phoebe’s heart missed a beat as she turned to find Theo standing beside them.

‘Hello,’ she smiled up at him. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

He bent to kiss her but as he did so Phoebe could see his eyes had already slipped towards Nola.

‘Oh Theo, this is …’

‘Nola,’ he cut in, saying the name slowly as though she were some delicious pudding or a fine bottle of wine.

‘Theo Casson.’ Nola swept her own eyes over Theo. ‘Look at you, all grown-up and handsome. You’re looking very well.’ Phoebe stared at her sister, since when had she become such a vamp? And why did she remember Theo’s name when she hadn’t been able to remember Oliver’s? Phoebe slipped her hand into Theo’s; he gave her fingers a small squeeze.

‘Phoebe didn’t tell me you were coming; I must say you look very well, too.’ Phoebe let go of his hand and folded her arms.

‘Theo’s a potter now,’ she said to Nola. ‘Like Granny. He’s using her old studio; he does wonderful things with clay.’

‘I bet he does,’ Nola was almost purring. Phoebe had to resist an urge to kick her in the shin.

Theo cleared his throat as though pulling himself together. ‘Phoebe’s been doing some amazing painting on some of my pots and she even threw one on the wheel herself.’

‘I’d love to have a go on the wheel again; maybe you could give me a refresher lesson, Theo?’ Nola touched Theo’s arm and Phoebe was almost sure she saw her eyelashes flutter.

Theo glanced at Phoebe. ‘Um, maybe, but I’m quite busy at the moment.’ Phoebe smiled.

Nola looked from Phoebe to Theo. ‘Is there something …? Are you two …?’

Phoebe’s irritation melted as Theo put his arm around her shoulder; they looked at each other and smiled.

‘Aww, how sweet.’ Nola swept back her hair, her own smile was sardonic. A large splash of rain fell on the dusty ground, followed by another and another in quick succession.

‘Here it comes,’ said Theo. ‘This storm’s been brewing all afternoon, would you two like to come in, instead of peering through the gates?’ The rain had started in earnest now, and as Theo pushed open heavy gate the three of them ran towards the house for shelter.

Once inside the kitchen, Nola asked if she could use the bathroom. Theo looked momentarily at Phoebe before offering to show her where it was.

‘I thought you said Nola had let herself go,’ he said as he came back.

‘She had.’ Phoebe was sitting at the table, her head resting heavily in her hands. ‘And now it appears that leaving her husband has turned her into some sort of mutant cross between a footballer’s wife and Mae West.’

Theo put his hands on her shoulders, ‘Do I detect sibling rivalry rearing its ugly head?’

‘No, of course not,’ Phoebe whipped her head round to face him. ‘But what right does she think she has to turn up here with her bits of false hair and Zumba thighs to try to sell the boathouse!’

‘Is that what she wants to do?’

‘Yes, to raise money for a house for her to live in when her divorce comes through.’

Theo put his arms around her. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it, Phoebe. For one thing she may find it’s harder to sell than she imagines, and secondly, once she’s spent a few days here she may not want to give up her little piece of Irish inheritance after all.’

‘But what about your studio?’ She felt Theo shrug. After a few minutes of silence she dared to ask the question that had played on her mind all day. ‘Have you had any more thoughts about the developers’ offer?’

Theo sat down beside her. He took her hand in his. ‘After last night I’m not in any fit state to make decisions!’ He smiled and stroked her cheek. ‘All I know is that the thought of leaving you right now would be impossible, unless you came with me, of course, and as I don’t know where I’m going or what I want to do I think that would be too much to ask.’ Theo coiled a strand of Phoebe’s hair around his finger. ‘I’ve sent a text to the developers asking for a few weeks to think things over.’ He let go of her hair and leant towards her, ‘And I intend to spend those weeks as productively as I can.’

Phoebe leant towards him too, ‘Productively? Tell me what you plan to do.’

‘Oh, you know. A bit of this, a bit of that.’ He was centimetres from her lips, ‘But hopefully mostly this.’ He kissed her gently.

Phoebe pulled back. ‘You don’t wish you’d waited twenty-four hours to scoop Nola after all those years instead?’

‘There’s more to being beautiful than skinny thighs and a push-up bra.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Believe me, Nola was just a teenage fantasy, while you are something all the more desirable.’ Then he kissed her mouth with such passion that Phoebe thought they might both fall off their chairs. The thought of making love on the slate flagstones made Phoebe’s entire body tremble with longing; if only Nola hadn’t turned up she and Theo could be having such a lovely afternoon.

‘Sorry to interrupt?’ Nola was back; Phoebe quickly disentangled herself from Theo and was mortified to find the buttons of her shirt undone. Theo however seemed not in the least embarrassed and gave Phoebe one last kiss before standing up to make a pot of tea.

‘I just can’t seem to keep my hands off your gorgeous sister,’ he grinned at Nola as he lifted the kettle from the Aga. Nola gave a sniff and swished her hair so that it all hung over one shoulder in a most alluring manner. Phoebe watched her and wondered if she had practised doing that in front of the mirror.

‘I hope you don’t mind, but I took the opportunity to have a bit of a nose around.’ Nola sat down at the table. ‘What a fabulous house, and, to think, it used to belong to our grandmother’s family, Phoebe. Have you seen the coat of arms above the fireplace? Are we posh or what!’