Monday 26th September – 11.30 p.m.
Despite the hour, Nell knew if she went back to the house in person, everyone would pounce on her for the answer. She had to tell him first. So, she texted him from the lab, her heart in her mouth: ‘Is this a good time to call?’
Her phone rang instantly. ‘Nell? What’s the news.’
‘Hi … hi, Conor. Can you talk? In private?’
‘Yes, I’m alone. I think I can guess what you’re gonna say.’
‘I’ve run the tests, Conor. It shows that you’re the father.’
His exhale made her wince. ‘Conclusive?’
‘Yes, but please feel free to verify—’
‘If you say it’s conclusive, that’s good enough for me.’
His faith in her made her feel sick for doubting him.
‘I presume you’re going to tell Aoife? And everyone else?’
‘I think that’s your call, Conor. I can say there was a problem, and the test didn’t work. But she is here, working in a different lab. So I can tell her now …?’
He sighed. ‘Please do. The poor girl’s gone through enough uncetainty. We may as well get it over with now. Everyone’s still awake here. It’s like a game of chicken. No one wants to go to their bed first. You could bring Aoife over, so we can tell everyone else together? But tell her first, in private. And … would you warn her that I’ll need a bit of time? I’ll have to talk to Sylv about all this. Somehow.’
‘But … are you sure?’ Nell had to ask. ‘Brandon nearly killed Finn because he thought he had an affair with Siobhan. This is proof that you did, and, more than that—’
‘Yeah, the point isn’t lost on me, Nell. I’ll tell him that the affair started at the time the child was conceived. That’ll be bad enough, because he knows it was near their first anniversary. I don’t have to rub his face in it by saying it started before that. But it isn’t the worst thing I have to face up to.’
She could hear him pacing. ‘Once Siobhan was pregnant, it made it harder for her to think of leaving. At the start, at least, Brandon thought their child would save their marriage and put the pressure on. She agonised over it, saying how much harder it was to leave with a little one. It was only once Brandon thought she had left that he said he thought the baby could be someone else’s. I … I just didn’t believe him. I thought it was Brandon being his hard done-by self.’
His sigh was full of pain. ‘We all know there’s more danger for women in those kinds of relationships when they’re pregnant. And now … now I find out it was me that trapped her in that situation.’
Nell didn’t know what to say to that. Conor sounded tortured. He rang off, and she gathered herself and fired a text to Aoife, asking if she was still in the lab.
Within seconds, Aoife burst in like a fireball. ‘Well?’ She panted for air, like she’d run a marathon, and pointed at the desk. ‘I’ve been forcing myself to be good and stay out of your way, but I saw everything was set up. I knew you were running the test. Who is it, Nell? Who’s my father?’
‘Just …’ Nell held up her hands, trying to calm Aoife, but realised the only thing that would do that was the answer. ‘Your father isn’t Brandon, OK? So there’s going to be some … upheaval about this result.’ She took a breath. ‘It’s Conor.’
‘Oh!’ Aoife blinked. ‘Wow.’ Then she smiled. ‘Cool.’
‘Just bear in mind this is going to be a shock for everyone. Conor has Sylvia to think about, as well as his family. So just make some allowances for now.’ Nell gave a reassuring smile. ‘I think Conor will be pleased about the news, once the shock has passed and everyone has had a chance to adjust to it.’
She squeezed Aoife’s hand, but saw her cautions were falling on totally deaf ears. There was nothing she could do about that. Now, they just needed to get to the farmhouse – and let the family know.
Yet, all Nell could think about was Conor’s tortured words. As she and Rav sped back to the farmhouse, with Aoife just about keeping up, she sighed. ‘You were right, weren’t you. This is bloody awful.’
‘Actually, I think I was wrong. They need to know, don’t they?’ Rav turned kind eyes towards her. ‘I mean, they may still shoot the messenger. But you’re doing something they need. This will probably be pretty tough. A shock all round. Not least for Sylvia. But I’ve got some extra-quality hugs brewing. I’m ready for emergency action.’
‘No opportunity knowingly wasted, eh?’
‘Never.’ Rav was solemn until he shot her that irreverent smile she loved.
Pulling up, she said, ‘Well, this is it. Have those emergency hugs primed and ready. I’ll be counting on them in about ten minutes.’
Tuesday September 27th – 1 a.m.
James couldn’t help noticing that, without Sean to chivvy conversation along or tease anyone good-naturedly, the atmosphere was cold. The audience around the kitchen table was icy and expectant.
Whenever an occasional car passed outside, everyone tensed; James, as focused as a hawk on everyone’s body language.
He braced himself, in case Aoife burst in again like last time. But this time, Nell was first through the door, with Rav following – before Aoife pushed past them both.
It seemed like the room held its breath as everyone stared at the two women.
Except James. He was watching Conor and his brothers. Finn was side-on, his head angled as if interested, nothing more. But his hands were clasped on the table, and his knuckles were white.
Brandon stared at his lap, maudlin as ever, seeming to pulsate with dissatisfaction. And Conor’s eyebrows were drawn up. In hope? Or concern? Or fear?
Nell didn’t prevaricate. ‘I’ve run the paternity tests and I have a conclusive result.’
Finn tilted his head; Brandon looked away.
But Conor leaned forward – and James saw that he wasn’t looking at Nell. He was scanning his brothers, looking at Aoife, and now Maeve. He knows … and if he knows, he must be the father.
‘Aoife’s father is Conor,’ Nell confirmed.
Finn sank back, folding his arms, as if he was deflated.
But Sylvia sagged against her seat, wide-eyed. Conor knew – but didn’t warn her?
Jumping up, Brandon jolted the table, making Maeve steady it. ‘You?’ Brandon’s dressings rustled as his face shook. He kicked the larder door before turning to his brother. ‘How long were you carrying on with my wife behind my back, Con?’
Conor answered his brother. ‘A year. At most.’
‘Yeah, well, I can do the maths. Seduced her away from our first-anniversary celebration. How jealous can you get? ’
Conor didn’t reply but his breathing was controlled, his eyes watchful, checking the flex of Brandon’s fists.
‘How did it start, Con?’
‘She was unhappy. You know that. The anniversary made that a little more … stark.’
‘And you were her comfort, were you?’ Brandon sneered.
‘If it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t a casual thing. We cared for each other.’
‘Oh, yeah. That’s much better.’
‘What did you want, Brandon? For her to stay, even if it made her miserable?’
‘How could she have even given us a chance, if you were carrying on with her?’
‘It was over between you two, in the real sense, long before anything ever happened with us. I know that much.’ Conor’s eyes narrowed. ‘And you do, too.’
‘Is that what she was doing when she visited you in Cornwall?’ Aoife asked. ‘Telling you it was over with Brandon?’
A pause hung, and then Brandon exploded. ‘What? ’
Conor blinked. ‘How …? What …?’
‘You were there. In December 2001. So was she,’ Aoife insisted.
‘Well, that’s one of four places Siobhan could have been,’ Nell interjected hurriedly. ‘So it’s not conclusive that Siobhan was in Cornwall.’
‘Yeah.’ Brandon spat the words. ‘Yeah, it is. Look at him. So that’s eighteen months you were sleeping with my wife, then. You liar. Were you together for the whole of our marriage? Or before, as well?’
When Conor didn’t answer, Brandon shoved him. ‘You can’t even tell me, can you? You couldn’t tell the truth if your life depended on it. What if hers did? What if she was killed for your lies?’
Conor leaped to his feet. ‘Yeah, and I can see you doing just that!’
This time James pushed his way between the brothers. ‘That’s enough! ’ He hoped his forceful roar, and hard shove, was sufficient to make them take notice. Thankfully, Conor stepped back, hands up.
‘Now it all makes sense.’ Brandon stormed to the door, pausing to snarl at Maeve, ‘Now do you see what I had to put up with? Are you happy now you’ve dragged all this up?’
‘Well, we should leave you to it, now we’re all in the picture.’ Finn stood, his lip curling. With great reluctance, Maeve followed him outside, glancing over her shoulder at Conor.
Aoife moved towards Conor. ‘Out of all the brothers, I’m so relieved it’s you,’ she gabbled, clearly nervous. ‘I wondered if you’d like to meet my parents? They’ve been so great about me wanting to find out why I was just left. And maybe you could tell me more about Siobhan—?’
Conor held up his hand. ‘Just … give me a minute, Aoife.’ He caught himself as she shrank back, wilting like a trampled flower. He took a breath and his face softened. ‘You look like her, you know.’
Aoife took a step nearer. ‘Really?’
‘But look, Aoife, this has come totally out of the blue for me. I know this has been a question for you, for as long as you can remember. But I’m catching up here. And I’m not the only one. Of course I’d love to meet your family. And I’d love to tell you about your mammie. In time. But for now, I just need a moment. OK?’
Aoife’s tentative smile flittered away. ‘Sure.’ As she left, Conor turned to Sylvia, his expression pleading.
‘Yes, I think we all need some time.’ Sylvia’s smile was unconvincing. ‘Rav, I’ll take you up on that offer of a chat and some fresh air.’
Conor watched Sylvia leave through the living room and head out to the courtyard, into the night air with Rav, and he groaned.
Taking the hint, Shannon left. But James and Nell stayed and Conor turned to them, sagging against the kitchen counter. He looked wrung out.
‘I can’t keep up with this. With everything about Siobhan. Worrying about what happened to little Ciara, then finding out she’s Aoife – and she’s mine.’ He stared, dazed, into the distance. ‘I mean, that’s amazing. But it’s …’ he exhaled, ‘it’s such a lot to take in.’
He rubbed his face, as if checking he was awake.
‘And if it’s a lot for me, this must be really tough for Sylv. I can’t imagine what all of this is doing to her.’
He peered out into the dark night, and James glimpsed Sylvia sitting on a hay bale, beside Rav in his wheelchair. She was leaning towards him, as if being comforted.
Conor’s groan sounded like an agony of heartache. ‘It’s too much, isn’t it? We’re supposed to be getting wed, and she’s had to deal with Siobhan and Aoife. And the fight. I’ve got to face it, haven’t I? It’s over.’