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‘Yes,’ Harriet sighed, deeply hurt by the assurance that she had ruined their reunion. ‘But unfortunately I don’t want to live in Paris.’
‘I thought it might help you to get over that silly business with Luke.’
‘Silly?’ The use of that particular word shocked Harriet, for it trivialised the betrayal that had almost torn her apart.
Her mother emanated a heavy sigh. ‘Look, I don’t know how to tell you this, and I don’t mind admitting that I resent being landed with the responsibility …but there’s nobody else to do it, so here goes. Alice and Luke are now engaged and have set a date for their wedding.’
The remaining blood slowly drained from below Harriet’s skin. Her tummy heaved. She forced her mouth up into a very slight smile and struggled not to react in any way. But it wouldn’t really have mattered how she reacted, for Eva was very careful not to look directly at her devastated daughter.
‘When…is the wedding?’ Harriet heard herself prompt, although in truth she did not want to know.
‘August. Your sister would like you to be her bridesmaid.’
That suggestion hit Harriet like a cruelly triumphant kick after she had already been floored by a body-blow.
‘You and Alice were close. She misses you. Naturally she doesn’t want friends and relatives to think that there’s still bad feeling between the three of you. You have to deal with this, Harriet.’
‘I have dealt with it, but that does not mean that I’m prepared to walk down the aisle as Alice’s bridesmaid. I think that might be a step too far for all of us.’ As Harriet spoke she felt as though she was encased in ice from head to toe, for she dared not let her emotions react to what she had just learned. She did not want pity. She did not want to expose her feelings. But most of all she cringed at the mortifying threat of Eva revealing the extent of those feelings to Alice and Luke, as it was painfully clear where her mother’s sympathies lay.
An hour later, having eaten not a morsel of the beautifully presented lunch that had been served, Harriet kissed Eva’s cool, perfumed cheek and escaped. The older woman’s apparent indifference to her pain had cut her to the quick. Was it inevitable that Alice should be the favoured daughter? Beautiful, confident and charming Alice, who, never having known separ
ation from Eva, enjoyed a much closer bond with her mother. Harriet could not bear to think about Alice and Luke and engagement rings and weddings. Nor was it advisable to dwell on such distressing thoughts when she had promised to spend what remained of the afternoon at her stepfather’s home.
The Carmichael household was busy and noisy, and at first glance always seemed to be bulging at the seams with lively children. It was only six years since Will Carmichael, having retrained, had embarked on a new career as a science teacher in a comprehensive school. There he had met Nicola, an art teacher, twenty-odd years his junior, and within a relatively short space of time he had become a newly married man with twins on the way. Josh and Jake were four years old now, and since then Emily, an adorable little girl of two, had been born.
Harriet had been grateful when the older man, whose self-esteem had been lacerated by her mother’s infidelities, had finally found happiness and a new family with another woman. His first proper children, as Nicola had put it on the day her boys were born. Harriet had hidden her heartache, conscious that Nicola had not intended to cause pain, for she had always made her husband’s stepdaughter very welcome in her home.
‘You know I never liked Luke,’ Nicola admitted abruptly as she passed Harriet a cup of coffee across the breakfast bar. Without skipping a beat the energetic blonde woman told Emily not to pull the cat’s tail and warned the twins that if they did not stop fighting she would put them to bed early.
‘You didn’t?’ Harriet struggled to hit a chatty note and concealed her dismay at the opening of that once controversial topic. Nicola had clearly decided that enough time had passed for extreme tact about Luke to be no longer necessary.
‘No, Luke always thought he was something really special. Of course I’ve never met your half-sister, Alice. But from what Will says she seems to be quite fond of herself too. Couples like that don’t stay together,’ the other woman declared in a tone of consolation. ‘Their egos clash.’
The desire to divulge Alice and Luke’s wedding plans nagged at Harriet like an aching tooth, but she withstood the temptation. She shoved that devastating announcement back down into her subconscious and trembled at the amount of self-control that concealment demanded of her.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Will Carmichael finally commented, when he was driving his stepdaughter to the airport for her flight. ‘Either my rowdy children have drained you of energy or something’s badly wrong.’
She thought of telling him about the financial complexities of her Irish inheritance and her very reluctant new business partner. But essentially that would have been a red herring, she acknowledged grittily. At that moment she didn’t much care about any of that. Her entire being was consumed by what she had learned earlier that day from her mother.
‘Luke and Alice are getting married in August.’
Her stepfather shot her an appalled glance and then focused his concentration studiously back on the road again. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, his hand reached for hers and he squeezed the life from her fingers. He said nothing. He didn’t need to say anything. She knew he understood. She knew he was bleeding inside for her. Her eyes burned hot but she held the tears back with iron self-control. It would upset him if she cried, and he did not deserve that. He had been extremely supportive when her life had fallen apart more than two months earlier, and it was time she got over it…Only she didn’t think she would ever get over Luke and Alice to the extent where she was willing to act as her sister’s bridesmaid.
*
Harriet collected Samson on her way home from Kerry airport. The little dog gave her a rapturous greeting and Tolly seemed quite sad to see his canine visitor depart. It was well after eight when she got back to the cottage.
Peanut was snoozing in front of the range. The pig got up and wriggled all over in excited welcome, just like a dog. Even in the mood she was in Harriet laughed. She lifted a bottle of peach wine out of the glazed kitchen cupboard and poured a glass. Fergal had warned her that Kathleen’s homemade wine was lethal, and she hoped it would help her sleep later, because that very night she was determined to burn everything that reminded her of Luke.
Una had left her a note on the table, but her writing and spelling skills were so poor that Harriet took several minutes to decipher the news that the livestock were fed, watered and bedded down for the night. Harriet was astonished that so bright a girl should barely be able to express herself on paper, and wondered vaguely if the teenager could be dyslexic—she remembered the similar struggles of a schoolfriend. Her mobile phone rang and she answered it.
‘It’s Boyce,’ her younger brother announced in his usual quick, abrupt manner. ‘Are you OK, kiddo?’
Her eyes prickled. ‘Who are you calling kiddo? You’re only twenty-one. Do you realise how long it is since I heard from you? You’ve got so big and famous I hardly see you any more.’
‘You’re nagging like a girlfriend,’ Boyce complained.
Harriet grinned. ‘Is the band still touring?’
