Page 133 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“It doesn’t matter. He’ll still see it that he won.”

“He won’t. Trust me. You need to speak to him.”

“I will.” I won’t.

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

JAINE

The O’Connell Home, Darling, New York

Everyone’s here,with the exception of Sophia and Sarah. The latter because she’s taken all the kids to the summer house for the duration. The former, as she probably has much better things to do with her time, like continuing to plot how to kill me.

I’m the last to arrive, having come straight from a meeting at JFK with a client who had flown in specially. There’s a warrant out for his arrest, so discretion was the priority—that and haste.

All eyes turn to me as I make my way into the room.

Is this a family meeting or a business one?

There’s no agenda been issued, and nothing’s been said verbally. I suspect, like me, the others were sent a message late last night requesting them to be here at ten a.m. prompt.

Everyone’s dressed professionally, so I don’t feel out of place in my navy pantsuit. If it’s a business meeting, I’m guessing it’s taking place here to allow Roisin to be present. Tongues would wag should Ma Duster show face at HQ.

Eoin makes brief eye contact with me, as does Padraig, then both turn away. My blood immediately simmers with annoyance.

I’m annoyed with Eoin because I’m reaching the end of my tether with how distant he’s been lately. Our relationship has gone from a two-way street to a one-way street to a stationary car park. That’s if it can still be referred to as a relationship. A relationship typically involves two people interacting. We don’t seem to do too much of that these days.

We don’t see each other that often. The physical side of our relationship, while still frenzied, is silent and disconnected. We’re only really fucking as our bodies are insistent that we do because of this insane physical attraction that neither of us can switch off.

Eoin’s blatant step back can’t just be over my insistence that he tone down the over-protectiveness. There’s something he’s not telling me. I guess that’s fair enough. We all have our secrets. But I haven’t changed as a person as a result of mine.

He has.

I’m pissed off with Padraig because, while I appreciate his wife hates my guts, the fact that we’re not allowed to communicate is ridiculous. We share a child. We have no option but to talk.

You managed perfectly well for two years, Jaine.

I glance around the room. I’m not sure how I feel about a meeting being held here. This is supposed to be my home, even if it is only temporary—a place where I should be able to switch off.

All eyes are waiting to see where I sit. In the end, I take the seat beside Aidan. I can feel Roisin’s eyes boring into me. She misses nothing. She’ll now know something is amiss between me and her eldest. I don’t make eye contact with her. Now’s not the time.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had a pre-arranged meeting with a client at the airport that I couldn’t get out of.”

They know what I’m saying. That having briefed me, my client is now on his way to an unknown destination to avoid having to holiday on Rikers Island any time soon.

“Thank you for joining us, Jaine.” Fergal smiles at me and then looks around the room. “Roisin and I have asked everyone here today for a reason.” We watch as he reaches out and squeezes her hand. “We thought it only right that we apologize to Padraig formally for all the lies and deception we’ve subjected him to. As you know, I may be many things, but I’ve never been a liar, and to be drawn into that minefield is not something I ever plan on doing again.”

He turns to look at Irish. Tears fill my eyes as I watch them fill his. He’s always so fucking emotional. It’s one of the things I love most about him.

“We’re sorry, son. The moment Jaine told us about Finian, we should have told you. We should have asked how you wanted things to play out and considered your thoughts and feelings. We can’t change the past. We can only apologize for it.” We all watch as Roisin and Fergal hug their youngest.

Tears. Apologies. Forgiveness.

I suddenly feel overwhelmed by this whole situation. I feel like I’m attending some sort of Liar’s Anonymous Meeting, where I’m expected to stand up next, say my piece, and get it all off my chest too.

I deceived the entire family for sixteen months. I know all eyes are now looking at me expectantly, silently suggesting that I say something to Irish. Are they expecting me to apologize for my own lies and deceit? What they don’t realize is that Irish and I have already made our peace in private when we faced death head-on in the church.

Today might be the time for truths, but I’m not ready to spill my guts about anything else. The remaining secrets I have to reveal must be divulged to certain individuals first. They’re not just for public announcement.

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