Page 37 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure

Chapter Twenty-Nine

M ary no longer felt able to think straight.

Another week had passed, and with Christmas only three weeks away, she began to prepare in a daze.

Present buying was a blur, and despite asking the children to make their lists for Santa, she felt sure she’d missed something.

Usually, she and Conor enjoyed the pleasure of deciding what gifts to surprise the kids with and planning their time together for the precious two weeks he always took off to spend with the family.

But this year, he’d told Mary to go ahead and sort everything out herself. ‘Wasn’t she capable of arranging the simplest of things?’ he’d said. Unsure whether Conor would even be with them for the celebrations, Mary felt like a robot as she endeavoured to do her best.

But on the morning that the new month arrived, December brought in colder weather and when Mary dropped the children off at their schools, she decided to take herself off to the coast. To hell with the washing and ironing, and avoiding Roisin’s enquiring eyes.

Feeling flat and weary, she needed time on her own and hoped that the sea and a freezing Atlantic wind might knock some sense into her.

Mary drove along the road, passing the car park beside Garrets Beach, where vast stretches of sand were bordered by rugged cliffs near the Old Head of Kindale.

She cut the engine and facing the sea, stared out at the crashing waves.

The beach was popular with surfers, but it was empty at this time of day, save for a single dog walker.

The bustling summer spot, where she often took the children for picnics or to play pitch and putt nearby, was wintry now, becoming shrouded in a moody sea mist that hung like a ghostly veil.

Visibility was limited, but as she exited her car, Mary knew she would find her way if she kept to the shore.

Buttoning her quilted coat and wrapping a warm scarf around her neck, Mary turned when a vehicle suddenly appeared, the tyres of a familiar van crunching across the gravel as it pulled up beside her.

‘Rats!’ she murmured when Ruari opened the door. Wearing a thick woollen jacket and slipping his fingers into the pockets, he headed towards her. All she needed was Ruari’s upbeat company on a day when she might debate drowning.

‘Mary!’ he called out. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing out here on a day like this with the sea mist closing in?’

‘Morning Ruari, and what the devil do you think you’re doing following me to the beach?’ she replied.

‘I wasn’t following you. I’m on my way to a client, but I recognised your car from the road and knowing that you might not be in the best of moods, thought I’d stop by to prevent you from wandering into the Atlantic.’

The wind was playing havoc with Mary’s hair, and as she brushed strands from her forehead, she stared at Ruari and wondered how on earth he knew she wasn’t in the best of moods.

But as she gazed into his sparkling eyes and saw his handsome face crease into a smile, Mary knew he was aware of her marital problems. Roisin’s bush telegraph was doing the rounds, and Mary’s escapade at Conor’s office must now be front-page news.

‘I’m going for a walk, and I didn’t ask for company,’ Mary said, locking her car and beginning to set off.

‘Well, that’s a shame, because I’m going for a walk too, and it looks like we’re going in the same direction.’

Mary rolled her eyes. It was hopeless trying to argue with Ruari.

He was a determined force, and as he stepped beside her, she felt his arm reach out and link with her own.

The air was cold and damp, and tiny droplets of moisture from the mist clung to her skin as a sharp wind cut across their bodies.

But Ruari’s arm felt comforting, warm, and supportive, and she realised that other than cuddles with the kids, she’d missed the feel of another human during the long, lonely days since she’d confirmed Conor’s affair.

‘Now, why don’t you tell me all about it?’ Ruari said as he steered them over pebbles, carefully avoiding the frothy lace that came and went with the high tide.

‘Tell you about what?’ Mary played dumb, unsure of what she wanted to disclose to the brother of Kindale’s biggest mouthpiece .

‘You’re the talk of the town with your airborne meals-on-wheels.’ Ruari laughed. ‘The Amateur Dramatic Society wants to book you for this year’s pantomime.’

‘Oh God, does everyone know?’

‘The staff at the office of Murphy’s Auctioneers have had a whip-round for a fancy Christmas hamper for you in the hope that you’ll repeat the performance.’

‘I made such a fool of Conor. He must be cursing me.’ She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image of Conor’s acrobatic twists and turns as her cheesy quiche landed clown-like in his face.

She remembered the open-mouthed expressions of the staff as they stood back to let her pass on the stairs.

Suddenly, Ruari stopped walking. He gripped Mary’s arms and stared into her eyes. ‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing,’ he said. ‘Are you seriously saying that you feel sorry for Conor?’

‘No, no… not really. I… I’m so confused I don’t know what I am saying.’

‘Okay, then it is time you voiced all this. Let it out,’ Ruari urged. ‘Who have you spoken to? Do you have a friend to confide in?’

‘I haven’t.’ Mary hung her head. ‘There’s no one these days. Una is made away with her demanding family, and I seem to have lost touch with any genuine friendships. My time has been solely for the kids and Conor.’

‘What about your family in Cumbria?’

‘Oh, Mungo would jump with joy.’ Mary shrugged. ‘He’s never really warmed to Conor, and would probably like me to return to the farm and help with the business. I know he’s snowed under with it all.’

‘What about Atticus?’

‘My dad is having the time of his life in Spain. I think he’s fallen in love, and I can’t burst his bubble.’

‘Good for your dad, but in the meantime, why don’t we sit in the warmth of the car, and you can tell me all about it.’

Mary looked up, her brow furrowed, but as she searched Ruari’s face for signs of a teasing grin, she saw only concern in his eyes.

‘I’m your friend, Mary,’ he said softly.

She held his gaze, surprised by the warmth in his words.

Mary had known Ruari for years, ever since she’d first arrived in Kindale, a stranger to the close-knit town.

Una often said that Ruari could charm the hens out of a hen coop and was hand-carved by angels.

At the Ladies’ Lunch Club, the women all drove well-valeted vehicles and compared notes with smirks and winks.

But Mary felt sure that Ruari wasn’t the type to leave a trail of broken hearts.

Despite his teasing ways, he’d always been there, watching from the background of her busy life.

Taking her hand, Ruari rubbed her fingers to warm them, then opened the back of his van to produce a flask of hot coffee and a small tot of brandy.

‘Essential valeting tools,’ he smiled, and, reaching for a blanket, wrapped it carefully around her shoulders.

‘Let’s stay here,’ Mary said. ‘I like looking out at the sea, and the mist seems to be lifting.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Ruari replied. Moments later, he placed two foldaway chairs side by side, facing the sea.

The weather was changing, and the tide was on the turn. The wind dropped as low-hanging clouds over the water parted to reveal glimpses of pale winter sunlight.

‘The beach is so beautiful,’ Mary said as she sat watching seaweed drift along the high-tide mark and whitecaps form on the surface of each outgoing wave.

‘Almost as beautiful as you,’ Ruari said as he stared out at the stark splendour of the scene. ‘Conor is an idiot,’ he added. ‘What are you going to do about your marriage?’

Mary ignored Ruari’s compliment. She felt as beautiful as a wet weekend in Galway.

‘I’ve told him I’ll give him time to decide what he wants to do, and he says he’ll let me know by Christmas,’ Mary reluctantly admitted. ‘I suppose he’s working out whether Lucinda is a better option than me.’

‘So… you’ve given him until then to selfishly make his decision, and you’ll go along with whatever he decides?’ Ruari appeared incredulous as he turned to face her.

‘I have no choice. If he comes back, it’s better for the kids. They’re too young to be separated from their father.’

Ruari sighed. ‘Mary, I had you down as an intelligent woman,’ he said. ‘Can’t you see that your kids are better off with one happy parent than two who don’t like each other?’

‘But…’

‘But nothing! You might want Conor back now, but when you accept what he’s done, you’ll come to dislike his actions. You’ll hate him and be unable to forgive him. You’ll find it impossible to live together. ’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘When my wife had an affair, we tried to work things out, but I could never trust her. The doubt was always there.’

‘ Your wife had an affair?’ Mary’s mouth fell open in surprise.

‘You thought I was the one with the roving eye?’ Ruari smiled and shook his head. ‘Most folk think the same, but I never looked at another woman in the years we were together. It broke my heart when we called it a day.’

Mary tried to digest Ruari’s words.

‘But…’ she began. ‘Conor is trying to decide if he loves Lucinda. Surely, he needs space to make his mind up?’

‘Oh, Mary.’ Ruari punched his head with his fist. ‘I cannot believe that you are allowing Conor to make this decision on his own – about your future. What about you?’ He stared hard at her. ‘It’s time for you to face the facts, and I guess it’s down to me to give them to you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Mary was even more confused.

Inching his chair closer, Ruari poured coffee into a mug. Adding a tot of brandy, he gave the drink to Mary.

‘Roisin is a terrible gossip, as you know,’ he began. ‘She cleans many houses and businesses in the area, including Creek House. Once a week, I go there to valet Lucinda’s cars.’

‘I know you’ve seen Conor at Creek House.’