Things We Never Say (52 page)

As they left the room, Abbey said that she wanted to go outside for a moment.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Ryan.

‘I’m good,’ she said. ‘I just need a minute to myself.’

She walked out of the door and stood in a shaft of cool sunshine. She realised that she was shaking. A few months ago she’d been broke, dumped and uncertain of her future. Now she was worth half a million dollars, was working on paintings of her own and was constantly in demand as a nail artist. She’d lost the house and yet Fred’s legacy had worked out for her after all.

She turned as she heard footsteps approaching her.

‘Sure you’re all right?’ asked Ryan.

And she had Ryan too, she realised. However that might work out in the future, he was here with her now.

‘Yes. It was all a bit … a bit overwhelming for a moment.’

‘I know.’ He smiled at her.

‘Thanks for everything,’ she said.

‘You’re welcome.’ He put his arm around her. ‘You need to come back inside now. There’s papers and stuff to go through, and Pete wants to make sure you sign on the dotted line.’

She texted Lisette, Zoey and Suzanne with the news of the sale price, because they had all asked to be told. Each one of them sent back a congratulatory text. And she knew they meant it.

Pete had arranged a celebration meal at Delmonico’s and invited Ryan to come along too. Abbey, thrilled to be in an iconic restaurant, ordered steak without first checking the price on the menu as she once would have done, and as she knew she’d do again when she came back to earth. Pete called for champagne and she told him that she could get used to the millionaire lifestyle, so maybe it was a good thing that the painting hadn’t gone over the half-million mark as Pete had secretly hoped it might.

‘It was still an outstanding bid,’ said Ryan.

‘Just think, though,’ said Pete. ‘If you’d stuck to your guns, you would’ve got the house
and
the painting.’

‘In that case I might never have found out the true worth of the painting,’ Abbey pointed out. ‘And now that I know the bidder is donating it to a gallery, I’m even more pleased. This way it’s out there in the art world and hopefully it’ll be appreciated.’

‘I think you did exactly the right thing,’ Ryan said. ‘You acted with your heart and not your head.’

‘You’re kidding me, right?’ Pete looked at him. ‘You’re a lawyer and you’re saying that?’

‘I’ll be drummed out of the profession,’ agreed Ryan. ‘But as Abbey is an artist in everything she does, I think it’s right she acts with her heart.’

‘She always did.’ Pete turned to her. ‘And I love her for it.’

‘I love her for it too,’ said Ryan, which caused Pete to whistle nonchalantly as he looked at both of them.

‘And I love both of you,’ said Abbey. ‘Now pour me some more of that champagne, Pete. Tonight I’m being Cinderella and I don’t want my feet to touch the ground.’

At nine o’clock, Pete said that he had to return to the hotel. He had some business matters to take care of, he told them, and he wanted to call Claudia.

‘Give her my love,’ said Abbey. ‘And tell her thanks.’

‘What for?’ asked Pete.

‘For being there,’ Abbey said. ‘Even though sometimes she mightn’t have wanted to be.’

‘All she ever wanted, and all I wanted too, was for you to be able to stand on your own two feet,’ he said.

‘And now I am,’ said Abbey.

‘And you’ve other people to support you.’

‘Oh, Pete.’ Abbey stood up and hugged him. ‘You’ll always be my biggest, my best support. Always.’

‘Take care, honey,’ he said. ‘And take care of her,’ he added to Ryan.

‘He’s a good man,’ said Ryan as Pete left the restaurant.

‘Most people
are
good.’ Abbey sat down again. ‘Most people want to do the right thing by each other. Only sometimes we don’t know how.’

‘And you do?’

‘I have an excellent teacher in my mom. But I don’t always get it right and I’m not some kind of saint.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Tell you something, if you come back to my hotel, I’ll show you just how unsaintly I can be.’

‘Abbey Andersen!’ Ryan looked at her in mock horror. ‘I’m just a poor guy from Ireland. Which, I’ll remind you, is the island of saints and scholars. I’m not sure I could cope with you being unsaintly.’

‘I bet my bottom dollar you could,’ said Abbey.

‘Are we now in a proper long-distance relationship?’ asked Ryan. ‘Because that’s going to be tough.’

‘I’ve been through tough,’ Abbey told him. ‘And I don’t mind what sort of relationship we have in the future. Because for tonight – tonight it’s grand.’

She leaned across the table and kissed him. And as he led her back to the hotel later, she knew that whatever else happened between them was going to be absolutely grand too.

Dilly could hear the cries of her newborn baby. More than anything she wanted to get out of bed and comfort her. But she was too sore to move. Every bone in her body ached. Every part of her body hurt. She remembered the sting of the leather belt as it crossed her shoulders. She remembered the jolting pain as she slipped and fell on the tiled floor. She remembered the sudden tearing sensation in her stomach and the terror she felt as she knew that her baby was coming. She remembered blood. She remembered being half dragged, half carried to the infirmary.

There had been urgent whispers, commands, arguments. To her. At her. About her. That part was a blur. She didn’t remember if she’d answered. If she’d said anything at all. But she remembered hearing her baby cry. And she recognised that cry now.

She tried to move, and the pain shot through her again. She groaned softly. She had to get up. She had to. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and her feet touched the cold tiles of the floor. She walked slowly and unsteadily out of her room and across the narrow corridor. The cries of her baby were louder now.

‘Mother of God, child, what are you doing!’

The nun was like a black shadow emerging from the walls of the building. She hurried over to where Dilly was crouched by the crib, her fingers pressed hard against the side of it.

‘She was crying,’ she said. ‘She needed me.’

‘You’re in no fit state to be out of bed,’ said the nun. ‘I’ll look after the baby.’

‘No,’ said Dilly. ‘She’s mine.’

‘I know that.’ The nun’s voice was soft, far gentler than Dilly was used to. It surprised her. ‘I know she’s yours.’

‘I have to take care of her,’ said Dilly. ‘I love her.’

‘Of course you do,’ said the nun. ‘But right now you need to get back into bed. You’ve lost a lot of blood, you know. You’re very weak.’

‘I have to be strong,’ said Dilly. ‘For my baby. I have to look out for her. I have to care for her.’

She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness engulfed her.

‘The best you can do for her now is to get back into bed,’ said the nun gently.

‘I won’t leave her.’ Dilly could feel the tears in her eyes. ‘She needs me. She’s my daughter.’

‘I’ll bring her to you. Come on, now, Ita. Come on.’

She didn’t believe the nun. She never believed them. But she was powerless to do anything about it. Her eyes blurred and she moaned softly. Then she felt the nun’s arms around her, gently lifting her and supporting her so that she could walk back to the infirmary. She felt secure in her hold, unthreatened and unafraid. She hadn’t realised that there were nuns like her. Not here.

‘Now,’ said the nun. ‘Back into bed with you.’

She was being so kind, thought Dilly. It was nice to have kind ones.

Her head was spinning and her vision blurred again. It was hard to stay focused, hard to stay alert. But she had to be alert because the nun was bringing her baby. She wanted to see her baby. To tell her how much she loved her.

‘Here you are.’

She felt the warmth of her daughter against her chest and looked down at her. She blinked rapidly until she could see the baby’s creamy skin, her tuft of hair and her startlingly blue eyes.

‘Oh,’ said Dilly. ‘She’s beautiful.’

‘Of course she is. She takes after you.’ The nun looked at both of them. Dilly saw that her eyes were blue too. Not as beautiful as her daughter’s eyes. But blue. And compassionate.

‘You’re not Sister Anthony,’ she said, realising for the first time that this nun was younger than the one that all the girls feared.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m only here for a few days. I’m Sister Benita.’

‘Benita,’ whispered Dilly. ‘That’s a nice name.’

She closed her eyes, still holding the baby.

Sister Benita kissed her gently on the forehead.

‘You’re a good mother,’ she said. ‘I’ll keep you and your child in my prayers.’

Two weeks later, Sister Benita cradled the baby girl gently in her arms as she walked into the visitors’ room. The couple sitting on the hard wooden chairs looked up eagerly, hope in their eyes.

‘Mr and Mrs Connolly,’ said Sister Benita. ‘This is your daughter. Take good care of her. She was loved very much indeed. She deserves all the love you can give.’

‘Oh.’ Mamie Connolly took the baby and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘Oh, Ellen. It’s so good to have you at last. Come on, it’s time to bring you home.’

‘I’m so glad we bumped into each other,’ says Luke.

‘Me too.’
It’s been wonderful, to be honest, but we’re different people now. I twirl my engagement ring on my finger. He notices.

‘Good luck with the wedding,’ he says. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy together.’

‘We will.’

I give him a hug as I say the word, and he hugs me in return. The memories come flooding back. I don’t care that I was only a kid. He was my best friend and even though I never really thought about it until the day before he left, I loved him. We look at each other and I know he’s remembering too. His eyes are fixed on mine and I can’t break away from him. He kisses me on the cheek. I kiss him on the cheek. He kisses me on the other cheek. I do nothing, just explore his face with my eyes and then he kisses me on the lips …

You can order
If You Were Me
now.

www.headline.co.uk

www.sheilaoflanagan.com