Page 4 of The Widow's Irish Secret
‘That was kind of her,’ Tricia said, knowing kindness had nothing to do with it. ‘We’d better draw up some plans for the wedding beforehand, though. Just in case.’
‘I know. Jack and I made a list. We can go through it together when you’ve settled in.’
‘Settled in?’ Tricia said. ‘I feel settled already. But do you know what I’d like? A swim. That would help me relax.’ She squinted up at the sky where the sun peeked through the clouds. ‘It’s not too cold today.’
‘When did that ever stop you?’ Vi asked, smiling. ‘You love a swim even on a freezing cold day.’
‘Best way to unwind.’ Tricia pulled one of her bags from the boot of the car. ‘I think my togs are in here. I’ll just put this in my room and then get changed. Can’t wait to have a swim.’
‘You’re going down to the pier?’ Vi asked, looking worried.
‘Yes. I always used to swim from there.’ Then Tricia noticed the look in Vi’s eyes. ‘Oh, I know. The pier where the boat was tied up at high tide. Hard to face but it’s something I have to get through. And I’ve been there a lot of times through the years afterwards. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m moving forward, not back to sad times.’
‘I hope so.’ Vi peered into the boot. ‘Do you want me to help you with the other bags?’
‘No. Leave them until I move into the cottage.’
‘You can stay with us as long as you need,’ Vi offered. ‘If you find the cottage too… rustic.’
Tricia laughed. ‘Rustic? I know what you’re hinting at. But I’ll be fine. It’s summertime and I won’t need much except the basics. I can’t wait to move in, no matter how primitive it is.’
‘That’s great.’ Vi smiled at Tricia. ‘You’re so brave, Mum. But I have a feeling you can’t wait to start your new life down here. Even if it’s going to be a challenge with the new house and then the wedding and… Granny.’
‘Bring it on,’ Tricia said with more bravado than she really felt.
Tricia wasted no time finding her swimsuit and a towel. She told Vi she would be back soon and got ready for her swim. Throwing on a bathrobe she found on the back of the bathroom door, she left the house and walked down the path that led to the wooden pier. The walk felt like a trip down memory lane for Tricia. Even though the path was overgrown with weeds and the trees had grown much taller than she remembered, the memories kept tumbling into her mind. She and Fred had often walked down this path hand in hand, chatting and laughing, taking a break from minding their little girls and running the estate. Then they had raced each other onto the planks of the pier and jumped into the often freezing cold water. They had swum out into the bay and climbed onto the raft that used to be anchored there from early spring. She smiled at the memories, thinking how lucky she had been to have experienced such a love story even though it hadn’t lasted more than ten years.
Losing Fred had been the worst trauma in her life. With Sean it had been different. He was older than her by nearly ten years and his illness had lasted over a year. She had been prepared for his death and had come to accept it, even if she missed him terribly when he was gone. She had been more accepting the second time and, in a way, relieved as nursing him had worn herout. Coming back to Magnolia Manor, where she had spent the happiest years of her life, now felt like a balm to her soul and she was able to enjoy the memories rather than push them away. Being here made her feel young again in a very odd way.
As she walked on, she looked up at the canopies of oaks and ash, delighting in the birdsong and the warmth of the dappled sunlight. The breeze from the north-west was a little chilly but it felt so fresh with that salty tang she remembered so well. Fred had loved coming down here for a swim and she could nearly feel him walking with her. He had always enjoyed these little escapes from his busy time running the estate. In those days, Tricia had been braver than Fred, however, and always swam from late April into mid-October. She loved the pier as the worn wooden planks had been soft under her bare feet and she didn’t get sand everywhere like on the beach.
Now, here she was at the pier, stepping onto the wood, worn to a silky softness by time and weather. It was nearly high tide and the waves lapped against the rocks at the base of the pier. Tricia kicked off her sandals and walked barefoot to the end, throwing off her bathrobe, preparing to dive into the dark water. She turned as she heard a soft rustle nearby and saw an egret flapping its wings and then rising out of the rushes and flying off across the water, its white wings gleaming in the sunlight. It was a beautiful sight and Tricia felt a dart of sheer joy as she watched the bird in graceful flight disappear over the hills across the bay. Then she dove into the water, gasping as she came up for air. The water was cold but she soon got used to it and began to swim with strong, even strokes towards the raft that she saw to her delight was still there. She arrived breathless and heaved herself up to sit and rest for a while before the swim back.
She hadn’t been swimming much lately and her heart was pounding in her chest which annoyed her.Well, you’re over sixty now, girl, she told herself,no longer young and fit like inthe old days. But I’ll work on it and get as fit as I can be at my age.She looked across the bay and thought of Fred, feeling that familiar sense of loss that still came back from time to time, like a sudden stab in her heart. It was as if he had stolen her youth when he died and left her sad and grumpy and middle-aged. It was such a different sense of loss to that which she felt about Sean. Fred had died so young.Oh stop it, she ordered herself.Self-pity is not the way to go. Fred would not be impressed.
A sudden glint blinded her momentarily and Tricia blinked and looked to the shore, her hand over her eyes to see better. Something had reflected the sunlight for a second and then it disappeared. Was someone watching her? Or maybe it was just a window opening in the manor house, the top of which she could see over the tree tops. She shrugged and prepared to heave herself into the water to swim back, which she did with slow, even strokes, not wanting to exhaust herself. She had to be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Sylvia’s dinner tonight, which might be a bit of an ordeal if they started to discuss the wedding plans. But she couldn’t quite get the flash of light out of her mind, despite the distraction of the cold water.
She reached the pier and climbed up the rather rickety ladder and put on the bathrobe and sandals. As she walked back across the planks, she spotted something in the rushes that she hadn’t noticed earlier. It was a rubber dinghy, also called a rib, pulled up onto the shore and half hidden by the clump of reeds. It had a brand new outboard motor and there was a wetsuit on one of the seats and an oxygen tank underneath it. Mystified, Tricia stared at it wondering who owned it and what they were doing there. Someone seemed to be either diving or snorkelling from there. Could it be Henri, Arnaud’s son who now ran the Magnolia business with Rose? Arnaud was Sylvia’s French fiancé and was also on the board of Magnolia Manor.
Tricia shot a final glance at the rib as she walked back up the path, telling herself there was a perfectly good explanation. But deep down she had an eerie feeling there was something strange going on. She had hoped to escape from all the troubles and suspicions in the north, but maybe they had already caught up with her…
4
Back at the gatehouse, Tricia spent the next few hours settling in and getting ready for dinner with Sylvia. Vi had said there was no need to dress up, but Tricia knew she had to at least dress in what Sylvia called ‘casual chic’ which was the most difficult dress code to pull off. But if she didn’t look at least well groomed, she would feel less confident and be at a disadvantage as the wedding plans were discussed. She unpacked her suitcase and found her beige linen trousers and a bright blue cotton sweater she had bought in the Ralph Lauren outlet shop in Kildare Village on the way down to Kerry. Simple and perfect – just the thing to wear under Sylvia’s critical gaze. Tricia quickly showered and washed and blow-dried her hair, mentally blessing her hairdresser for giving her a cut that was so easy to manage.
Vi was in the living room putting together the list with her and Jack’s wedding plans. She looked up as Tricia entered, smiling approvingly. ‘You look great, Mum. The swim was obviously what you needed.’
‘That and a little spit and polish,’ Tricia replied, looking at herself in the mirror over the mantelpiece. She did look a lotbetter already, even if there were still shadows under her eyes and lines around her mouth. The light makeup she had applied had brightened her complexion and her hair bouncing around her face was an added bonus. ‘Let’s have a look at the list,’ she said, turning away from the mirror. ‘We’ll want to be prepared to stay strong and ready to resist any arguments.’
‘You’re right. Granny means well, even if she’ll want everything her way.’ Vi handed Tricia her list. ‘As you see, we want a small cosy affair with the wedding ceremony in the little church up the hill and the reception in the orangery. It’ll be so gorgeous there within the old walls and the garden to wander around in should it get too hot. I think Lily will love the idea to have the reception there. It’s going to be a barbecue but we’ll get the caterers Granny uses to help with all the cooking. They always do a good job.’
Tricia sat down on the sofa and looked at the list. ‘Only sixty guests? And you want to have a barbecue? And a salsa band so you can dance on the deck outside the orangery. I think that sounds grand, you know. And such fun. What about the dress?’
‘I’d like to wear your dress, Mum,’ Vi said. ‘Can I?’
‘Of course,’ Tricia said, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. ‘That would be lovely.’
‘It won’t make you sad?’ Vi asked, looking worried.
