Page 33 of The Widow’s Irish Secret (Magnolia Manor #4)

Tricia, you don’t have a chance of winning this case. I have found evidence to prove that you acted illegally. I have contacted my solicitor about the matter and it will have serious repercussions if you don’t agree to settle.

Cillian, who had got out after Tricia, stood looking at her for a moment. ‘What’s the matter? You’re as white as a sheet all of a sudden.’

She pushed the phone into her pocket without replying.

She had no idea what to do. None of her plans to raise funds in Kerry had come to anything; the house still needed work and the painting hadn’t been authenticated.

She was at a loss and felt as if she had come to an impasse.

She had had such high hopes for her new life, but everything was crashing down before her.

‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. What is it that scared you so much?’ Cillian continued, stepping out of the van, and placing a hand on her arm.

‘I can’t tell you,’ she said. She felt suddenly a wave of shame as she thought about the terrible mistake she had made that now looked like a crime.

‘And you said I was keeping secrets from you.’ He looked into her eyes.

‘Trish, you’ve accused me of keeping the truth from you, but you’re doing the same to me, can’t you see that?

’ Tricia looked into his lovely hazel eyes and breathed in his special scent of salt and sea and a hint of sandalwood from the soap he used.

She wished she could go with him on the adventure he had planned and she also wished with all her heart she could tell him about the trouble she was in.

But there was no way she could reveal how foolish she had been, not until it was all over.

Nor could she pull out of the arrangements she had made with Rose and disappoint the little girls who she knew were so excited to come for a sleepover at their granny’s new house.

‘Oh, Cillian,’ she whispered. ‘I wish I could tell you but I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ he murmured against her hair as he pulled her close to him. ‘It’s important for us to be honest with each other and to spend some time together on our own, away from everyone here. Can’t you see that?’

Tricia put her cheek against his chest and stayed there for a moment before she slowly pulled out of his arms. ‘I know you’re right, but I can’t get out of having my little granddaughters.

A promise to a child is sacred to me. I just can’t break that.

They’d never trust me again. And this message I just got…

Well, yes it’s a huge problem but it involves someone else and it’s very complicated. Please try to understand,’ she pleaded.

He nodded, still looking put out. ‘I don’t like being kept in the dark about something that’s making you look so worried. And I…’ He stopped as a small van pulled up behind the campervan.

‘It’s Ted with the kitten,’ Tricia said and walked to where Ted had just parked, relieved to have a distraction. ‘Hi, Ted.’

‘Hi.’ Ted looked curiously at Cillian as he got out of the driver’s seat. ‘Sorry, didn’t know you were expecting visitors.’

‘I wasn’t really,’ Tricia started. ‘Anyway, Ted, this is my friend Cillian.’

‘Hello.’ Ted held out his hand. ‘I’m Ted. The builder,’ he added.

Cillian grabbed Ted’s hand and shook it. ‘Hi, Ted. I’ve heard so much about you. I gather you’ve been a huge help to Tricia.’

‘Oh, I’ve just done a normal builder’s job,’ Ted said modestly.

‘More than the normal builder,’ Tricia protested. ‘A lot more. Plumbing, carpeting, putting together a bunk bed from IKEA without swearing and now giving me a kitten for the girls to play with.’ Her tone was jocular in an effort to hide her distress.

‘That sounds like the work of several men,’ Cillian said. ‘But now I must be off,’ he continued with a glance at Tricia.

‘Don’t go just yet,’ Tricia pleaded.

‘I think it’s best,’ Cillian said in a stiff voice.

‘If you could move your van, Ted, I’ll get out of the way of kittens and grandchildren and the like.

’ He shot Tricia a look of regret before he got into the campervan.

‘I’ll see you around, Tricia.’ Then, as soon as Ted had moved his little van to the side of the cottage, he drove off without another word.

Tricia stood there, watching the taillights of the campervan disappear down the lane, wondering if she’d ever see him again.

She knew he was disappointed that she hadn’t been able to come with him and angry that she hadn’t told him about the text message and everything connected with it.

Ted’s arrival hadn’t helped matters much either.

Ted cleared his throat. ‘Did I interrupt something there?’

Tricia squirmed. ‘Eh, no, not really. Cillian wanted me to come with him for a drive up the coast. But I said I couldn’t because the girls are coming tomorrow and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

He was a bit annoyed about that.’ Tricia tried to sound unconcerned despite the lump in her throat and the tears that threatened to well up.

‘You can’t let kids down,’ Ted said. ‘Especially little girls. He must know that.’

‘It’s all my fault,’ Tricia mumbled, fighting back tears.

Then she couldn’t hold it back any more.

The tears ran down her cheeks as she felt despair overwhelm her.

‘We were getting to know each other again after a long time apart, you see. I thought we might have something really good. Something that would last and might help us both heal. But I’ve ruined it. ’

Ted moved closer and put an arm around her. ‘I’m sure it’s not that bad. He’ll be back. I could see by the way he looked at you that he’s mad about you. And who wouldn’t be? A beautiful, intelligent woman like you with all those talents, what’s not to love?’

‘That’s so kind of you to say. Right now, I feel like a foolish old woman who thought she could find love again.’

‘You’re neither foolish nor old,’ Ted protested, taking his arm away. ‘No one is ever too old for love.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ His words made Tricia feel a lot better. She sniffed and felt in her pocket for a tissue but found none. ‘Of course I don’t have a tissue so I have to blow my nose on my shirt.’

‘No, you don’t. Hold on.’ Ted went to his van and came back with a roll of kitchen paper and handed it to her. ‘Use as much as you need. And then maybe you can come and see the little guy I brought. He’ll need a lot of loving now that he’s been separated from his mother.’

Tricia used several sheets of kitchen paper to dry her tears.

Then she blew her nose and pulled herself together.

It was time to stop dreaming and count her blessings.

She had a good friend in Ted, three lovely daughters, adorable grandchildren and she would just have to face Sean’s nephew.

Everyone might have to find out about the accusations against her.

Sylvia would be disappointed and say that Tricia had finally ruined the Fleury name.

But what more could she do? She knew she had to face it all soon.

Love and romance felt too complicated right now.

She promised herself to try to forget Cillian, even if she knew he would haunt her dreams for a long time to come.

She followed Ted to his van and watched as he took a kitten out of the back seat.

He was black except for his white paws and a little white patch on his chest. ‘Oh,’ she said as she took the soft furry little bundle in her arms. ‘He’s gorgeous. What’s his name?’

‘He doesn’t have one,’ Ted replied. ‘I thought your granddaughters could find a name for him.’

‘I’m sure they will. That’ll be fun for them.’ Tricia put her cheek against the kitten’s soft head and heard him purr. ‘I think he likes me.’

Ted smiled. ‘He seems already at home with you. I’ll get his bed and the food. Then I have to go and feed the mother cat and do a few jobs before dinner. Let me know how you get on with your new baby.’

‘I will,’ Tricia promised. She carried the kitten into the house and let him down on the floor, smiling as she watched him scamper away into the living room, then jumping up onto the sofa.

Ted came back with a round soft bed for the kitten and a bag of food.

‘He’ll eat some other things, too, but stick to this for a while.

Hope you have fun with the little girls.

’ He put the things in the kitchen and was about to leave but stopped on the way to the front door.

‘I was just thinking,’ he said. ‘About the painting we found…’

‘I hid it well, don’t worry,’ Tricia said.

‘And you haven’t told anyone about it?’ Ted asked.

‘No, not even Cillian,’ Tricia replied. ‘I sent a photo of it to a curator at the National Gallery but I haven’t heard back yet. That’s the only person I’ve told.’

Ted nodded. ‘Okay. It’s just that if it should be by the real Kieran O’Grady, it could cause a few problems.’

‘Like what?’ Tricia asked.

‘Like who actually owns it. The previous owner of the cottage might claim it belongs to them.’

‘I hadn’t thought about that. It would be Sylvia, of course.’

‘Right.’ Ted hesitated. ‘Well, I’m sure you’d sort that out between you. But… there is a possibility that the family of the painter might also think they have a right to it.’

‘Oh.’ Tricia stared at him. ‘I didn’t think of that, either.’

‘Well, maybe you should cross that bridge when you come to it,’ Ted suggested. ‘I just thought I’d mention it so you’ll be prepared.’

‘I’m glad you did,’ Tricia said. ‘But first things first: is that painting really by that Kieran O’Grady?’

‘That would be good to know, of course,’ Ted agreed. ‘But now I really have to go. Have fun with the new member of the household. Let me know how you get on. And if there’s any news from the gallery, of course.’

‘I will,’ Tricia promised.

‘Good. Well, goodbye.’ He waved and continued to the front door.

Tricia thanked him and said goodbye and then went to join her new charge on the sofa, feeling suddenly exhausted.

She lay back and the kitten climbed onto her and went to sleep, purring loudly.

It was oddly comforting to have that warm soft little cat on her chest, and Tricia let her thoughts drift.

Cillian’s sour face and hasty departure played on her mind and she wondered if they would ever be able to sort out their differences.

He had left both angry and hurt and that was probably the end of what could have been so lovely.

That was sad but she would have to cope with it.

Maybe she was too old for romance anyway.

A bitter fruit to bite into, but she would have to face it.

Tired after the day full of controversies, with the kitten snoozing on her chest, Tricia felt herself nod off, only to be woken by her phone ringing. Startled, she picked it up from the coffee table, hoping it might be Cillian. But then saw that it was a Dublin number and wondered who it could be.

‘Hello, this is Tricia Fleury,’ she mumbled, still lying down with the kitten on her chest.

‘Oh, hello, Mrs Fleury,’ a woman’s voice said. ‘This is Barbara Delaney. I’m head curator at the National Gallery in Dublin. You sent me a photo of a painting a week or so ago.’

Tricia gasped and sat up, her heart racing, making the kitten jump away. ‘Oh, yes, I did.’

‘Sorry about not contacting you sooner but I’ve been on holiday until now.’

‘That’s okay. So you had a look at the photo?’ Tricia asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And…?’ Tricia held her breath while she waited for the woman to continue.