Page 19 of An Angel's Share
“They’re great, but don’t ever tell them I said that. Their egos are off the scale normally. Give them any wiggle room and that will be it, game over. I can never let them win,though. Been the same since we were kids. We all live to wind each other up. It’s like having another two brothers.” I grin. “But they love my sister. And I love that they do. She is the reason for their lives. It doesn’t get stronger than that.”
I stare into her face. Does she understand love like that? She blinks, a bit dazed by my intensity.
“I know what you mean. I never let Patrick or Conor win at anything. I think that’s why they’re so determined to take overO’Clerys. They want to win this one.” Her face shows her determination to stop them, but there’s no malice in her voice.
“Well, don’t let them. Patrick has been in effect in charge for at least five years, and things are not any better. In fact, Marshall has hinted that things are worse now. And it’s all down to him.” I gauge her reaction to my knowing a bit about her business. She’s listening intently so I carry on. “Conor, fair enough, was not here, but still never stopped him. And he’s probably the only one who could have said things that others couldn’t.”
She gets a depressed look on her face. I don’t like it. I want her to be happy.
Jesus, if that isn’t a bold realisation to be slapped with. I thought I only wanted the baby, so I was prepared to do whatever it takes to make that happen. Maybe it’s a bit more complicated than that.
In all the chatter, we’ve found ourselves at the back of the house. No one is around, so I step closer to her.
“Tell me what you need. I’ll help.” I lift my hand and stroke my fingers across her brow where her worry lines have appeared. I’m trying to smooth them away, and when I look into her eyes, they’ve filled with tears.
“No one has asked me that. No one has really offered to help. Everyone is hell-bent on trying to get me to stop doingsomething. Either because I’m pregnant, or because they don’t like what I’m trying to do and want to get rid of me full stop.”
Bending my knees slightly so our heights are the same, I wipe my thumbs under her eyes and look directly into them. “I’ll do whatever you need me to. Anything. Just ask me, Rua. I’ll do it.”
She nods her head and steps away as we hear Marshall and Seamus coming around the side of the house, laughing and talking.
Seamus and Marshallare bantering backwards and forwards as we climb into the normal mode of transport on the estate—golf buggies. The buggy is the easiest way to move from the house to the different distilleries. The surface area of the new distillery is so large, this is now also the quickest form of transport within the space. Aoife is bantering with her daddy that she might buy electric scooters.
“I can just see you on a scooter, Marshall.” She laughs at his face.
“Does it have reins?” he asks in genuine interest.
“No, handlebars. Like the kids have, just bigger.”
“I’ll stick to horsepower. Actual or motorbikes,” he states, smiling at her.
Seamus is driving, looking as happy as Larry. Clearly Marshall being here has improved his mood, his overall outlook. It’s also a rational person he can share the burden with, bounce ideas off. Marshall's knowledge is invaluable.
I can see Seamus is trying not to dump everything onto Aoife. Probably in part due to the pregnancy. Doesn’t wantto overload her too quickly, or cause any health issues for her or the baby. But he may have to, because Marshall won’t stay. Especially now Evie is pregnant. He’s already said he intends to go back after the board meeting.
Maybe I will stay a while, and not go back with Marshall. I need to be here. For my baby anyway.
Yeah, right.
The day is bright and easy, the weather warm. All the staff we come across want to stop and talk to Aoife, Seamus, and Marshall. I’m hanging on every word. Watching her interactions, how she speaks, her expressions as we come across different people. Gauging her reactions. Comments to her dad. Every opportunity to touch her throughout the day, I do. I’m like a junkie craving a fix. Her scent intoxicates me. I’m more silent than normal. Watching. I see her evaluating me as much as I am her.
But I carry on my physical onslaught. A supportive arm here, a brush of my fingers there. She starts to give me dirty looks when I make a particularly obvious move and brush her hair from her neck. She knows what I’m doing.
But I observe her body, how it fires to life if I get within breathing distance of it. It’s calling out to me, screeching my name if I get outside of ten feet from her. When I’m near, she arches into me. She doesn’t realise she’s doing it. It’s an unconscious thing. And I love it.
If she looks flushed or hot, I get her drinks. If I can see she’s tired, but won’t give in to it, I suggest a stop. Purely for Marshall and Seamus’s benefit, of course. But I see the relief in her eyes. I know she knows I’m doing it for her, giving her an out. Making sure she never looks weak, and giving the impression she’s always in control.
At the end of the day, we’re sat in the old coffee shop. I look at the potential of the place, it could be so much more.Red brick, with intricate patterns in the brickwork. Nooks and crannies that could showcase so much of the distillery from the past. Huge ceilings open up to the rafters. Open beams, and structural steel work. Intricate metalwork. All had a purpose at one time or other. But now, modern large scale production is needed, and this place has outlived its usefulness. It’s beautiful and old. I can imagine my sister having a field day in here. What her brain could do with this would be unbelievable.
“You need my sister here,” I say as I gesture around the building. I turn my head around the place. Taking it all in. It’s been renovated at some time in the past, and has been done well, but clearly no one has upgraded it for a while. “She would be talking to this building, getting it ship shape. It could be a real money spinner. She tells me there’s loads of money in coffee and cakes. Everyone always wants them. She even tells me people will drive miles for a good coffee shop.” I smile encouragingly at her.
Aoife sighs. “I know, I’ve done it myself. Still do. I’d love Evie to come, but I don’t want to bother her if she’s pregnant.”
“Why? Are you not able to make decisions because of a pregnancy?”
She looks at me sharply, then blows out a breath, looking guilty.
“Oh God, I’m turning into my mammy. I’ll ring her.” She pauses for a minute and I let her get her thoughts together.
