Page 32 of Redeem Me

‘I packed you a picnic.’ Liz nods towards a huge wicker basket with a folding lid. ‘It’s great you’re having a beach day.’ Her tone is overflowing with approval.

‘Oh, I…’ Fuck. ‘It’s just for an hour.’

‘Daddy, you promised!’ Owen’s face falls.

Orla inhales sharply.

Ivy’s head whips around.

‘Or two, maybe.’ I exhale a huge breath and accept my fate.

An hour later, I load the kids into Ivy’s Mercedes, strapping them in carefully.

Ivy hovers nervously by the driver’s side.

‘I’ll drive. Get in.’ I pack the picnic in the boot along with buckets, spades and way too many inflatables, then strap myself in.

The only reason we’re taking her car is because I don’t want a driver hanging around all day. It’s rare I go out without security, but how dangerous can the beach be? I’m certainly not going to bump into Jack O’Connor there. But if I did, I’d have no qualms about drowning him. Slowly.

No, Damon and the others can wait here, man the house. I don’t want any eyes other than mine on Ivy in that bikini. Which is why we’re going to the smallest, quietest beach in Dublin. The same beach I spent my childhood on. It’s a stone’s throw from my parents’ house. The only way to access it is via a short, woodland trail at the back of their land. And seeing as my parents are on holiday touring Europe right now, there’s no chance of running into them on one of their daily walks.

‘Which beach are we going to?’ Ivy asks, as I start the engine.

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Oh, I love surprises!’ She rubs her hands together gleefully.

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ I say wryly.

Ivy spends the entire journey singing Taylor Swift songs to Orla, teaching her the words toLove Storyuntil it’s stuck in all of our fucking heads.

Even Owen is singing along.

I can’t cope.

When we finally reach the woodland trail, I park the car in a shady spot beneath some sycamore trees and unload the stuff from the boot.

‘We’re at Nanny and Grandad’s beach!’ Orla announces, bounding from one pink sandalled foot to the other. ‘Can we go see them?’

‘They’re not here. They’re on holiday.’ Thankfully. Because if my mother knew I was at the beach with my kids’ nanny, she’d get all sorts of stupid notions. Notions that have no right being in anyone’s head – especially mine.

‘This is your parents’ land?’ Ivy’s hand sweeps over the vast horizon.

‘Yes.’ I nod, looking anywhere but at her again. I suppose I should be grateful she threw on a tiny vest top over the bikini, but those legs should be illegal in public.

‘You grew up here?’ Awe taints her tone.

‘Yes.’ I don’t mean to be short with her, but I can’t help it.

Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I hear a familiar engine rumbling in the distance. There’s only one person who drives a Porsche who would be on my parents’ land.

My brother, Rian.

Rian is the baby of the family. James is the oldest, thenme, Killian, Sean, and Rian. Plus, there’s my sister, Zara, who is just finishing college. Rian pretends to run a chain of exclusive bars and nightclubs, but in reality, he mostly parties in them, prowling for his next shag. James was a playboy in his day, but he had nothing on Rian. Our youngest brother has more ‘swifties’ than Taylor herself.

And fuckingLove Storyis still stuck on repeat in my head.

Ivy’s eyes flick towards mine. ‘Do we have company?’

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