She set her bags down in front of the door and fumbled for the key in her purse. The lock took a bit of persuasion, as usual, but too soon the door swung open, and Alanna looked at her life the way it used to be.
The tiny living room still held the old green sofa they’d bought when they were first married. Liam’s collection of fishing flies sat on the coffee table. Alanna stepped across the stack of old mail and flyers the postman had left on the floor. The flat smelled stale and shut up.
Empty of Liam’s presence.
She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. Maybe it was just as well she didn’t sense Liam here. Her gaze went to the pile of old mail. Anyone who mattered knew how to contact them on the road, and all their bills went to a box at her accountant’s.
She carried the pile to the kitchen and began to toss each piece of junk mail into the garbage. The return address on one envelope caught her attention. It was from the private investigator she’d hired. The last she’d heard, he’d failed to find any trace of her sister, and that was over a year ago. She hadn’t expected to hear from him again.
She slit open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. The investigator had turned up one small bit of information during inquiries into another matter. From what he could gather, her mother was last seen at a Traveller’s village outside Dublin in February. One month ago. Alanna didn’t particularly care about her mother’s whereabouts, but she hoped that finding her mum might lead to her sister, Neila.
Someone knocked on the door. Still stunned, Alanna went to answer it and found Ciara there. “Is it quite late?” Alanna asked, glancing at her watch.
“No, I just thought I’d help you. You might think you want to be alone, but I’m not having it. It’s not good for you.” Ciara brushed past her.
Alanna closed the door. “I’m glad you’re here. Look.” She handed the letter to her mate.
Ciara carried it to the sofa with her. She dropped onto the sofa and scanned the letter. “Your mum’s right here?”
Alanna sank into the chair opposite the sofa. “She was last month. I want to find Neila. I don’t care about my mum.”
“So you say. You have to be having some feelings for her.”
“Why should I have any love left for a woman who would just walk off and leave her three-year-old behind in a trailer, alone? She had so little care for me. But Neila had no say. She was only eight when Mum took her away with her.”
Ciara looked up from the letter. “We should check this place out.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Mate, you know I wouldn’t let you do this alone.”
Alanna studied her friend’s face. There hadn’t been an opportunity to tell Ciara about the baby. “I have news to tell them—and you. I’m pregnant.”
Ciara’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, Alanna. So a part of Liam is still with us.”
“Yes, it’s quite the comfort. I’m just over four months along. It’s a boy.”
“So far along! And you’re not showing.”
“I’ve been clever with my clothing choices.” She stood and smoothed her loose top over her tiny belly. “See?”
“Just barely.” Ciara folded her in a fierce hug. “Me and the rest of your mates will be here for you and that baby, Alanna.”
“I’m counting on that.” Alanna glanced at her watch. “It’s time we go to see Thomas and Sheila. I want to catch them before supper. My Citroen was serviced and left in the parking stall. We can take that. It will be grand to drive on the proper side of the road again. Let me change clothes. Thomas will be quite scandalized if I show up in jeans. Even the news of the baby won’t pacify.”
She left Ciara in the living room, then dragged her bag to the bedroom, where she changed into a navy skirt and jacket over a crisp white blouse. The despised navy pumps pinched her toes, but she wore them anyway.
Outside, she soaked up the sights and sounds of Dublin as she led Ciara to the car: the honks, good-natured calls between mates, the smell of mead spilling out of the pubs, and even the car exhaust. If only Liam were here with her.
The black Citroen started on the first try. She drove through the streets and out to the countryside. Rolling down her window, she inhaled. “Nothing smells like Irish rain.”
“I’m feeling a bit peckish. We should have grabbed some fish and chips,” Ciara said. “Shall your in-laws have mercy and invite us to eat?”
“I’m hoping not. I’d rather not stay.” Alanna applied the brakes as she neared the laneway to the Connolly manor. The large house sat back from the lane a fair distance so that only a glimpse could be seen by the common folk Thomas represented in parliament. She paused at the entrance, then stuck her arm out the window and punched in the code to open the gate.
Her heart was beating fast and erratically. She parked in the circle laneway, right in front of the house. Seeing Sheila’s joy in the coming baby would make putting up with Thomas much easier.
“It’s pale you are,” Ciara said. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
Alanna wet her lips and nodded, though acid churned in her stomach. “We’ll just stay a short time. We can tell them we have plans.”
“I have a date with mash and bangers,” Ciara said, opening her door. “The sooner we’re done here, the sooner I’ll be eating them.”
It seemed a lifetime since she’d last walked this flagstone path to the front door. She rang the bell and tried to compose herself, without success.
The butler opened the door. His expressionless face changed as he looked her over. “It’s sorry I am for you, missus. Come in. I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.”
They followed him into the drawing room, where he left them. Sheila had redecorated since Alanna had been here. The blue wing chairs were quite lovely, as was the camelback sofa and new rug. She heard footsteps on the wood floor and whirled to see Thomas in the doorway. Sheila was right behind him. She usually wore makeup, but today her face was tearstained and strained.
Thomas was slim and tanned, handsome. His gray hair and impeccable navy suit exuded power and prestige. Liam would have looked like him someday. The thought made Alanna’s heart squeeze. Sheila’s blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, and she wore a pale blue suit and pumps. About three years younger than Thomas, she was the perfect wife.
Thomas looked Alanna over. “You should have called us from the airport. I would have sent a driver for you. The funeral director called to let me know he has received our Liam.” He swallowed hard. “We should discuss arrangements.”
He came forward and she raised her cheek for him to kiss. His dry lips brushed across her skin and lifted away as if any prolonged contact would sully him. Sheila waited until Alanna stepped back, then opened her arms. Tears lay tracks down her cheeks, and her face was white.
Alanna went into Sheila’s embrace and touched her lips to her mother-in-law’s cheek, scented with some kind of powder. Liam had gotten his sweet nature from his mother.
“When did you arrive?” Sheila asked as they separated and moved to sit.
“Just this afternoon. I came straightaway. The furniture is lovely, Sheila. I like it very much.”
Alanna knew the precise moment that Sheila realized she was pregnant. The sun piercing through the window highlighted the swell of her belly when she was two feet in front of the sofa. Her mates had seen her every day, so the change was harder to notice. Sheila hadn’t seen her in over a year.
Sheila gasped and rose. “Alanna, you’re expecting?”
Alanna smiled into Sheila’s joy-filled face. “I am. Just four months along. It’s a piece of Liam, Sheila. A boy.” Her eyes welled with tears when she said the words.
Thomas was standing by the drink table pouring a glass of Scotch. He whirled and the liquid splashed onto his hand. His gaze went from her face to her belly. “A child? Liam’s child?” His voice rose, and there was no mistaking the joy in it.
“Yes, Thomas. The little one
will be making his appearance in August.”
“This is jolly news, Alanna. Jolly indeed.” He put down his drink and came to embrace her. “I’m so pleased.”
Sheila rose. “Can I get you something? Sit down, dear.”
Thomas set his drink on the sideboard. “Yes, yes, sit down and rest.”
She allowed Sheila to push her onto the sofa. Her helpless gaze found Ciara’s. Her mate had found a seat on an armchair out of the way. She rolled her eyes when their gazes locked.
“I’m fine, really,” Alanna said.
“Any sickness?” Sheila asked anxiously. “I remember when I was carrying Liam how I couldn’t look a blood pudding in the face.” She gave a delicate shudder.
“I had a few mornings of nausea, but it’s not been too bad,” she said.
Thomas frowned. “How long have you known you were pregnant?”
She’d known this moment was coming. “Just a few weeks. I didn’t pay attention to . . . to my monthlies.” Her face heated to be discussing such a thing with Thomas there. He was so proper. “It was only when I discovered my jeans not fitting that I began to wonder and counted back. Liam didn’t want to call and tell you that kind of good news over the phone. We’d planned to come to see you next month.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” Thomas said. “We have many plans to make. I’ll call the architect and have him start straightaway on redoing the west wing for you and the baby.”
“And I know just the pediatrician for you,” Sheila put in. “He’s the best in Dublin.” She was practically clapping her hands. “A baby,” she marveled. “I can’t take it all in.”
Alanna should have expected this. She must have been mad to have been gobsmacked by their plans. For just a moment she allowed herself to think of how wonderful it would be to let someone else worry about her life, but she gave a slow shake of her head. “I have a concert schedule to keep. I must go back to America after Liam’s funeral. Most of the upcoming concerts are sold out, and if we cancel now, this chance might never come again. I will come back when the tour is done.”
The lines on Thomas’s brow deepened. “But of course you’ll stop that music madness. It’s no life for a child. Being hauled from pillar to post on a bus. A child needs stability, a normal home. A chance to go to church.”
Alanna hadn’t thought beyond getting through her grief while fulfilling her contracts and having the baby. “We’re on the cusp of making a name for ourselves.” She shook her head. “Our manager thinks we will be bigger than Celtic Woman someday. I have a responsibility to my mates to see it through. And not only that, it’s my dream and Liam’s too. I can’t throw it all away when it’s nearly in my hands.”
“I forbid it!” Thomas thundered. “You cannot subject my grandchild to such lowlifes.”
“I’m sorry if I sound disrespectful, Thomas. I don’t mean it in that manner. But I’m nearly thirty years old. I’ll make the decisions for my own child. I am his mother.”
The burn of tears was in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted it to go this way. In her imagination, she’d dreamed Thomas would promise to throw his influence behind bookings here in Ireland. He would offer her the little gardener’s cottage at the back of the estate for when they were off the road. Such a foolish daydream.
Sheila gasped and Thomas said nothing for a long moment. Alanna prayed he saw the futility of his orders. They might yet have a decent relationship. When she saw his brows gather again, she knew he wasn’t giving up so easily.
“Then you leave me no choice,” he said heavily. “I wouldn’t want to take the child from you, but I will if I have to. As the mother, you should be the first to recognize that.”
Alanna rose and grabbed her purse. “You can’t take my baby from me.” The Irish law was very clear about who should be raising a child.
“I can do most anything I want,” Thomas said. “All I have to do is make a phone call and report you as unfit. I can have your visa revoked, and you’ll have no choice but to come back to Ireland.”
Alanna’s knees threatened to give way when she realized he meant what he said. And he had the power to carry it through. She had to figure out a way to thwart him before the baby was born.
Four
The eejit!” Ciara fumed as she jerked the car into gear and tromped on the accelerator. “You okay?”
Alanna still felt shaken, too upset to drive. She’d rushed from the house with a strangled promise to think things over. There was nothing to think over, of course, except how to get out of Ireland as quickly as possible to protect her child. But Thomas wouldn’t let an ocean get in his way. She knew him too well. All he had to do was pull the strings to get her visa cancelled, and she’d be back here under his thumb.
“He’ll do what he says,” she said in a trembling voice. “You don’t know him, Ciara. He always gets what he wants. He knows I was raised by the Travellers. The courts will take one look at his lovely mansion and compare it with my circumstances and upbringing. It will be all over. I won’t have the weapons to fight him if he forces me back here.”
She couldn’t let her child have the same upbringing that Liam did. He’d often talked of how differently he would treat his children—with warmth and unconditional love, not chilly perfectionism. If it hadn’t been for Sheila, Alanna would have felt justified in keeping her pregnancy from them.
She saw Ciara bite her lip and knew her mate wanted to offer encouragement, but the reality was Alanna was right. Thomas held all the advantages. “I’m going to go back to America right away. Barry is connected. Maybe he will have a suggestion.”
“I hope you’re right.” For once Ciara’s tone didn’t indicate disdain. “Barry’s an attorney. He might be knowing some tricks to foil Thomas.”
Alanna stared out the window. Around the curve, the field opened up and revealed a ragtag assortment of trailers and ramshackle cottages. Dozens of dogs ran through the dirt between the trailers. It was the Travellers’ community the private investigator had mentioned in his letter.
The camp was much like the one she remembered from her childhood. Constant commotion: yelling people, barking dogs, shouting children. Hearing those same sounds through the open car window brought back the desolation she experienced when she realized she’d been abandoned by her mother. Other women had cared for her, but always with impatience. She remembered being lonely, so very lonely, while surrounded by people. The day she met Liam had changed everything, and the moment she left the community had been the happiest day of her life.
“Ready?” Ciara asked after putting the car in park.
“Right.” She shoved open her door and stepped out into a light breeze that brought the smell of cooking stew over an open fire to her nose.
“Where shall you be starting?” Ciara asked.
“With that group of women around the fire.” Alanna realized she had left her shoes in the car. With her feet in good Irish dirt, she was a child again, but it wasn’t a good feeling.
She walked toward the group of six women. Dressed in brightly colored clothing and jewelry, they stood around the campfire chatting in a language she hadn’t heard in over ten years.
She greeted them in Cant, amazed it came so easily to her lips. “I’m Alanna Costello, daughter of Maire. I heard she passed this way recently.”
The oldest woman, her hair wrapped with a red kerchief, looked Alanna over, glaring from under heavy brows. “You have the look of Maire,” she said grudgingly. “She was here.”
Alanna couldn’t hide her disappointment. “She’s not now?”
“She left two weeks ago. Went back to America.”
“America? Has she been living there all these years then?”
The woman nodded. “Twenty-five years now, she said.”
She’d deserted Ireland totally. Not even concerned about the three-year-old daughter she left behind. What could cause a woman to leave her child? Alanna couldn’t imagine leaving the baby she carried under any circumstances. She
wanted to ask if her mother had asked after her, but she knew the answer.
She reminded herself that her mother cared only about Neila. “Did she have her daughter with her?”
“You were saying that you are her daughter.”
Alanna’s fingers curled into her palms. “I am, but I have a sister. Neila. Did you see her?” Though Neila would be in her midthirties, Travellers often lived together all their lives.
The woman shook her head. “She was alone.”
Of course she was. She’d probably abandoned Neila along the way somewhere too. Alanna would never find her. “Do you have any idea where Maire lives?”
The woman bent over to stir the stew and her ornate necklace dangled perilously close to the pot. “Somewhere in the South.”
Alanna felt her last grasp at hope slipping away. “The South is a large area. You wouldn’t know what state? She said nothing that might indicate where her home is?”
“From something she said, I think she was near water, maybe the Atlantic.”
The woman’s tone held an air of dismissal. She took a bowl from the woman on her right and began to ladle up the stew. “We eat. You go now,” she said. “I cannot help you more.”
Alanna nodded. “Thank you for the information.” Near the Atlantic and in the South. She could research Travellers’ communities there and see how many she could find. Surely there weren’t more than a dozen, if that many.
She slipped into the car. “Well?” Ciara demanded.
“She’s not here,” she said. “She went back to America.”
Ciara dropped the car into drive and pulled away from the side of the road. “America?”
“According to the woman I spoke to, she’s lived there twenty-five years. She must have gone there straightaway.”
Ciara glanced at her. “Shall you be dealing with it okay?”
“I knew long ago she didn’t care anything about me.” Alanna managed a shrug though she wanted to cry. To sit in the dust and howl. She didn’t have any blood relatives left, and with Liam gone, there was no one who really loved her. Oh she had no doubt Ciara and her other band members cared. But someday they might go their separate ways.