The Corrigan legacy (8 page)

Des had one broken marriage behind him and it seemed his present wife had just left him as well, again because of his infidelity. It now turned out that there was an illegitimate daughter somewhere, though that wasn't a fashionable term to use nowadays. Still chasing skirt, Des! She'd told the detective agency to find out where the second wife had gone, what she was doing with herself, and to locate the illegitimate daughter and see what she was like.

'Can't keep 'em happy, can you, Des?' she muttered. 'Well, let's see if you've produced anything worthwhile in that son of yours, or those three daughters.' The son was, it seemed, doing very well at school. And wasn't living with either parent. Why not?

Well, they said Maeve would have time enough left still to find out. The game wasn't over yet. That made six children, one of whom would inherit a substantial legacy from her.

Oh, yes, she'd definitely leave her mark on those who were left behind. She smiled. The Corrigan legacy! It sounded like a film, one full of dark deeds and suspense. She wished she could be here to watch it play out to the finish. She couldn't, so she'd have to make her plans very carefully . . . Tie things up legally so that Des couldn't get his hands on any of the money that was to be offered to his children.

Doing all that would give her an interest for these last few months.

Kate went to see the specialist physician their family doctor in Callabine referred her to. She had to get her mother to drive her to the nearby town of Berriman to do that and by the time they got there she was exhausted.

Mr Knowles was grey-haired and plump, and from the beginning he spoke to her as if she was mentally deficient.

'I think what you're really suffering from, young woman, is depression.'

She'd done her homework. 'I'm not. I've looked it up on the Internet and—'

He held up one hand to stop her. 'We'll have no amateur doctoring here. I'll prescribe you some antidepressants and you can come back and see me in six weeks.'

'I'm not taking them. I'm not in a clinical depression.'

He looked at her mother. 'She isn't thinking clearly. Perhaps you can see that she takes the tablets, Mrs Corrigan?'

Kate's mother looked at her, then back at the doctor. She picked up the prescription Kate had shoved away. 'Come on, love.'

When they went out, she made an appointment for six weeks' time while Kate stood scowling at her from near the door.

'It's no use coming to see a specialist if you don't do as he tells you,' Jean said when they were in the car. 'I'll just stop at the chemist's and have this made up.'

'Mum, how can I say it more clearly? I'm not taking those things. I'm not clinically depressed.'

'He's a specialist. He must know better than you.'

'There's no need to get them. I won't take them.'

When they got home, her father listened to their combined explanation of what had happened.

'The doctor was rather autocratic,' her mother admitted, 'and I didn't like the way he spoke to Kate, either. But we're not paying him to be our friend. We're paying him for his expertise.'

'I want to see someone else, someone who really knows about chronic fatigue syndrome,' Kate said stubbornly. 'I'm not taking those things.' She stood up to leave the room and her father blocked the way.

'Sit down, Kate.'

Fuming, she did so.

'You're not getting any better. Would it hurt to take the tablets and see if they help?'

She opened her mouth.

'I'm asking you to try, that's all. We're doing all we can to help you. I think you should play your part.'

'I want to see someone else.'

He slammed down his hand on the table. 'There is no one else near here! And you haven't even tried. One month. Give it one month.'

Her mother looked at her pleadingly.

Kate felt so tired she caved in. 'It won't work.'

'One month,' he repeated. He picked up the packet and popped out a tablet, then offered it to her, and got her a glass of water.

She looked at it, her mind a blur of tiredness, and with a sigh she swallowed it.

For the next few days she dutifully took the tablets but she hated the way they made her feel, as if there were a layer of heavy insulation between herself and the world. She couldn't even think straight when she was on her computer and made the silliest mistakes.

After one week, she waited till her father was at work and her mother shopping in town, then she flushed the rest of the tablets down the toilet.

At tea time her mother went to get her a tablet and she confessed to what she'd done.

They both looked at her as if she'd lost her wits.

'That's not the way to treat chronic fatigue syndrome,' she said, as she'd said so many times. 'Truly it isn't. That physician is old-fashioned.'

Her father's face was red with anger. 'You didn't even give it a month.'

'I can't bear the way those tablets make me feel.'

He got that stubborn look on his face. 'Well, young woman, I'm not paying for you to go to see any other specialists if that's the way you treat what they say.'

She stood up and left the room, in tears but too proud to let them see. She didn't always think clearly with this mind-fuzz that seemed to overwhelm her sometimes, but they hadn't even tried to look at the research she'd found online. The best thing to do was rest and gather her strength, then find out the name of a specialist in Sydney. She could stay with her friend Jen for a day or two and spend some of her remaining money on seeing one.

But she couldn't do it yet, because she was too weak to travel there on her own and her father was so furious, she was sure he wouldn't let her mother take her.

She locked her bedroom door and lay down, wondering yet again what she'd done to deserve this.

Shreds of mist curl across the tops of the moors, raindrops bounce off windows, cows plod silently across a field, full udders swaying, heads marking time. The man following them pulls his hat down further against the rain and hunches his shoulders.

Judith woke early, pulled away the chair that she'd prudently jammed under the door handle and wondered as she took a quick shower if the man she'd rescued was still there.

He was.

She stood in the doorway of her aunt's shabby sitting room and stared across at him. He was sound asleep, spread-eagled half on and half off the seat cushions. With a shrug at her own rashness she went into the kitchen, making no attempt to keep quiet, smiling as she wondered if he'd remember anything about the previous night.

When she heard him stirring she went back to stand in the doorway. He was sitting up, staring round with a look of utter bewilderment on his face. The minute he noticed her, he blinked and became very still. 'How the hell did I get here?'

'I found you in my shed, dead drunk. I couldn't rouse you properly and didn't want to leave you outside on such a cold night, so I brought you into the house.'

'You must like taking risks. I might be a mass murderer, for all you know.'

'That's what I told myself. But you didn't seem threatening, could hardly stand up, and I couldn't reconcile it with my conscience to leave you out there in the cold.' She smiled as she added, 'Though I did keep a poker handy, I will admit.' His answering smile lit his whole face and made her breath catch in her throat at how attractive he was.

'Thank you. I'm very grateful. And I'm not a mass murderer, actually, though you'll have to take my word for that.'

She chuckled. 'I feel much safer now you've told me. Look, there's a shower room across the hall and I've put out a towel. Breakfast will be ready when you are.' Her aunt had had a downstairs suite created when she grew too old for the stairs, but somehow, Judith hadn't wanted to put the stranger in May's bed. That would have seemed too intimate.

He moved as if to stand up, winced and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

'Hangover?'

'Yeah.'

'A cup of coffee and a couple of paracetamols might help.'

'Please. I won't be more than a few minutes.' He threw aside the covers and got to his feet, sucking in his breath a couple of times as if moving about hurt.

She went back into the kitchen, smiling wryly. So far, her guesses had been correct. Her intruder spoke in educated tones and was very attractive in an understated way. She stopped dead at that thought because she wasn't used to finding other men attractive, then shrugged mentally. Well, she was officially separated from Des now, knew she would never go back to him and she certainly didn't intend to stay celibate for the rest of her life. In fact, it had been a few months since Des had made love to her. That was what had alerted her to the fact that he was cheating on her again.

When her visitor joined her, he was pale, smelled of soap and his hair was damp. He'd also put on a pair of spectacles. He looked good in them, too. She nodded towards the table. 'Help yourself to coffee. I think you should eat something before you have any tablets.'

He poured a cup and sat down to cradle the mug as if enjoying the warmth, then sipped from it and sighed with pleasure.

'I'm Judith Co- I mean, Horrocks,' she prompted.

'Cal Richmond. And I apologize for trespassing last night. When May was alive she used to let me sleep in the shed. Last night my bike broke down a few hundred yards from here, so I left it and plodded along on foot.'

'I'm her niece, Judith.'

'She's shown me photos of you. They didn't do you justice.'

His eyes were warm and admiring. A shiver of response ran through her.

'I got to know your aunt quite well, wanted to build a weekender up here, but she refused to sell me her shed and end section of land, said it didn't do any good to split up properties or everyone wound up with only a bit more than nothing.'

'Sounds like her. She kept all the family photographs too, right back from the 1860s. I was instructed in her will to keep them together and hand them on to my son intact. I don't think she'd understood that you can scan them in nowadays and make copies for every member of the family who wants them.'

He nodded, then set down his empty cup and looked at it wistfully. 'All right if I get another?'

'Of course.' She stole a glance at him and decided to ask the question that was puzzling her. 'You'd been drinking heavily, though why you'd choose to sit in a shed to do that puzzles me. Surely a pub would have been more comfortable - or even your own home?'

After a brief hesitation he said, 'I wanted to find a place where no one would see me or talk to me - or be able to tell people I'd got blind drunk.'

She could see pain flaring in his eyes again. 'So you broke into the shed.'

'I still had my key, so technically I didn't break in, just trespassed.'

'And how did you get hold of the whisky?'

'I'd come prepared. It was in my pannier.'

Cal took another sip of coffee, avoiding his hostess's eyes because she seemed to see too deeply into him. He'd been half mad with the pain of losing Lily, if truth be told, and hadn't been thinking straight. He'd had a desperate need to blot out the world for a few hours, but had been worried in case Kerry was keeping him under observation. He didn't want her reporting him to courts and solicitors as an unsuitable man to have parental responsibility . . . just in case there was the faintest chance of him being with Lily again.

He looked up, studying his good Samaritan. She was a great-looking woman, voluptuous in a way he'd always found attractive, not stick-thin like Kerry. When he smiled, she smiled back at him and somehow the warmth in her face eased the pain a little.

'You seemed very upset,' she said softly. 'You muttered something about your daughter, that they'd taken her away from you.'

He hadn't realized he'd said anything so specific. 'I thought I was well out of it last night.'

'I stirred you into moving and helped you into the house. That's when you said it.'

'What exactly did I say?' Oh, hell, he hadn't wept all over her, had he? Guys weren't supposed to weep, especially guys about to turn forty.

'You didn't say much, just something about it not being fair to take her away from you. I - um - had a fellow feeling because circumstances have just separated me from my son.'

He could see a sadness in her face that mirrored his own feelings. 'Divorce?'

'Yes. And Mitch's educational needs mean he must stay in London, near his father, while I only have this place to live in so I had to come north. But I'm going to miss him like hell.'

Cal nodded, but didn't volunteer any more of his story and to his relief she didn't press the point or share any more of hers. It was established that they had something in common. That was enough to form a tentative bond.

'Bacon and eggs? Toast? Marmalade?'

'You're a very generous hostess. Could I get my bike first, then take you up on your offer of food? It's a Hog - Harley-Davidson - and I don't like to leave it lying around for someone to pinch.'

'Sure. Your things are still in the shed.'

He drained his cup and went to get his helmet and ignition key. She watched him, deciding his walk had a lazy grace that was attractive. Des either stumped along as if he were off to do battle or strutted as if he'd just won a battle.

Quarter of an hour later Cal returned. 'It's working now. Go figure.'

She started cooking. 'You were a friend of my aunt, you say?'

He smiled, I like to think so. She was a feisty old lady.'

'Did you grow up round here? I was born in Rochdale, just down the road, but my parents and Aunt May didn't get on, though she was my father's sister, so I didn't see much of her till I grew up. My mother died in a car accident when I was thirty. My father was lost without her and moved about a bit. He died a couple of years ago.

'I met May again at the funeral and we kept in touch. I lived in London, but she came down sometimes to shop and I came up here to see her once or twice. I never thought she'd leave the house to me, but I'm grateful now that she did.'

He smiled reminiscently, leaning against the wall in a position from which he could look out of the window at the moors. 'I grew up in the village and I think it'll always be home to me. Your aunt caught me scrumping her apples once when I was a lad. She read me a lecture then turned and twisted her foot in the grass, so I helped her back to the house. Somehow I kept coming back. She treated me like an adult, let me read her books, talked to me. My mother was widowed, worked all hours to support the two of us, so I was lonely, I guess. She lives in Norwich now with her second husband.' He stopped talking, amazed at how easy he found it to confide in Judith. The silence continued until she broke it.

'Breakfast is served.'

He went to join her at the table. 'Sorry to be such poor company. I keep - losing track of what I'm doing.'

'I'm a bit that way myself lately,' she said softly. 'Disoriented.'

They ate mostly in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. To his surprise he found he was ravenous.

Just as they were finishing, the doorbell rang and Judith went to answer it. As she opened the door, she wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell of dung that wafted in and looked in puzzlement at the man standing there.

'Can someone move that ruddy great motorbike from round the side, missus? I can't get the trailer round to leave this where they said.'

She stared beyond him to a van with a trailer which appeared to be laden with manure. 'I haven't ordered anything.'

'Name of Horrocks?'

'Yes.'

'Well, someone's ordered some garden manure.'

'It isn't me, so please take it away again.'

'But it's been paid for!'

And then she guessed - Des again. How utterly puerile of him! A flash of light from across the road made her look up to see a man standing beside a car, grinning at her, a camera in his hand.

Cal came out to join her. 'Problem?'

The camera flashed again.

'Another of my ex's nasty little tricks, I should think.' She gestured towards the trailer then at the man standing on the road outside her gates. 'A gift from him. And a photographer to show Des how I react.'

Cal let out a scornful puff of laughter. 'He must be a prat. Hasn't he anything better to do with his time and money?'

'He's a shrewd businessman but he has a very juvenile sense of humour. He had all the locks changed here so that I couldn't get in when I arrived yesterday. Knowing him, I should think there'll be more nasty tricks coming.'

Her companion's smile faded. 'One or two nasties is par for the course in an acrimonious split, they tell me. I hope you're wrong about others following. If not, you should let the police know he's harassing you.'

'I doubt I'm wrong, but I don't want to bring the police in. It's bad enough for my son, us splitting up. I don't want him to see us brawling publicly.'

'You may have to do something if it goes on.'

'Yes, I suppose so. But I'll wait and see first.'

Cal looked at the manure and then back at the man who'd brought it. 'What sort is it?'

'Horse manure, sir. Best thing there is for vegetables. It doesn't come cheap.'

'Des never does things by halves,' Judith commented sarcastically.

Cal turned to her. 'Are you intending to reinvent the garden at some point?'

She looked round. 'I suppose so. One day. But I'll not be digging in manure myself for a while. I'm still recovering from an accident to my knee, have to take things a bit carefully.' She suddenly remembered her financial state. 'Though it might come to my doing it myself. Des is rich, but he's delaying giving me an allowance because I emptied our joint account. I have to be a bit careful with money until he's played out all the stalling tactics his lawyers can devise.'

'Why don't you accept his gift, then? If you have the manure dumped as far towards the rear of the garden as you can, I'll come back in a few days and spread it out for you wherever you want to grow things.'

His wry smile made her heart suddenly thump in her chest. 'I couldn't ask you to do that.'

'You didn't. But I owe you big time for last night.'

'Oh. Well. All right, then. And I do have a spare bed, so you can sleep in more comfort this time.'

'Actually, I wonder if we could come to some arrangement about the shed instead, to give me a bolt hole?'

The man with the manure, who'd been watching them with increasing impatience, intervened. 'Sorry to interrupt you two but I have a business to run, so if you've decided what you want to do, can you tell me whether to take the stuff away or not? If you want me to leave it, you'll need to jnove that motorbike. My instructions were to dump the manure on the back patio. All right?' 

Judith looked at Cal. 'You're on.'

He nodded and turned to the man. 'I'll move the bike, but we want the manure dumping right down at the back of the garden, as far away from the house as you can get.' He pushed his Harley off its stand and wheeled it to one side, then came across to Judith. 'Do you want to give your husband something to think about?'

'Yes. But what?'

'This.' He pulled her into his arms, smiling warmly at her, and began to kiss her. After an initial jerk of surprise she let him, would have smiled if her mouth hadn't been otherwise engaged. But after a moment or two she forgot about Des and lost herself in the kiss.

When he pulled away, they both stared at one another in shock.

'Where did that come from?' he asked.

She couldn't frame a single word, so shook her head and went back inside to clear up the breakfast things. Cal Richmond was a very attractive man. Richmond. She stopped with the kettle in her hands to wonder where she'd heard that name before, but couldn't bring it to mind. It'd come to her later, no doubt, once she'd stopped thinking about it.

In the meantime she should forget the kiss, which had just been a spur of the moment thing to torment Des with.