Page 108 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Never better,’ she said and nuzzled her head into Finbar’s shoulder, kissing the deeply tanned skin. ‘I think that’s the best sleep I’ve had in years.’

‘The first of the rest of our lives.’

Melissa pulled away and turned to look at Finbar. ‘Do you mean that?’ she asked.

‘Today might be our last tomorrow,’ he replied, his smile slow and lazy. ‘I’m never going to let you go again.’

Melissa lay back. Her fingers tingled and she felt a lightness in her limbs, as though she was weightless. The feeling, so unfamiliar, almost made her cry.

She was happy and deeply in love.

Turning on her side, she traced the outline of Finbar’s handsome face. His eyes were closed, breaths deep, as he relaxed and sleep returned.

Melissa wanted to pinch herself. She could hardly believe that things had turned out this way. Here she was, lying next to a man who’d earlier told her that he would always love and protect her and never let her out of his sight again. Finbar was overcome with the news that he had a son and the fact that all these years had passed didn’t seem to matter to him. He’d assured both Melissa and Patrick that they had a lot of catching up to do and the rest of their lives to do it.

He’d explained that when he’d left their cruise, he’d tried to contact her, but never managed to get past her father. Thinking that Melissa didn’t want anything to do with him and had forewarned her father, Finbar eventually gave up.

‘I suppose Dad thought that your lifestyle would never support me,’ Melissa said as they sat in the music room with Patrick. ‘Working on cruises meant that you’d always be away.’

‘He assumed that I was no good, feckless and fancy-free,’ Finbar had sighed. ‘But if he’d only given me a chance, I’d have got a shore job and married you.’ He looked fondly at Patrick, ‘Especially with a baby on the way.’

They’d discussed Patrick and his future and when Melissa shared details of her conversation with Hattie, Finbar had nodded his head.

‘Something has happened to Malcolm, that’s for sure,’ he said. ‘No doubt, in time, we’ll learn more, but for now, you have to accept what she’s said.’

‘I hope he’s dead.’ Patrick was adamant. ‘The man has ruined me.’

‘He nearly ruined us both.’ Melissa placed her hand on Patrick’s arm. ‘But don’t worry, you can start again and, with my inheritance, I can help you.’

She’d wanted to know what had happened to Giles and Patrick said that he’d spoken to him the previous day. Giles too, wondered where his father was.

‘Not that I really care,’ Giles had said. ‘The man murdered my mother and I wish that he was ten feet under.’

Melissa thought that Giles and Patrick could well have had their wish granted.

She’d been pleased to hear that Giles was moving to Antigua, to live with a man he’d met in Marbella. It had been love at first sight, Giles told Patrick.

Melissa traced the shape of Finbar’s lips and leaned in to kiss him. His eyes slowly opened and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt the strength of his loving body; it seemed to pulse into her own. As their glances met and she looked deep into the pools of Finbar’s fiery green eyes, magical and flecked with gold, she almost purred with happiness.

‘The first day of the rest of our lives.’

41

On a sunny day in late September, the garden at Boomerville Manor was still colourful despite the few short months of summer having flown by. Pots of geraniums brightened up the patio and hanging baskets trailed the last blooms of the year. Declan and the twins knelt by the borders, their trowels and forks working feverishly, as they dug up annuals to plant pansies, daisies and wallflowers, to flower alongside daffodils and bluebells in the spring. In the distance, the clock on the mediaeval church tower, at Flatterly Friary, could be seen from the avenue that led to the manor.

It struck twelve times, the chime resounding across the quiet countryside.

On the driveway, Jo and Hattie stood with a group of friends. Subdued and silent, they’d dressed in muted shades, expressing their respect. Hattie in a dark cashmere coat, held a wooden box in her gloved hands. On the smooth polished surface, lay a gold plaque, engraved with the words, “William Arthur Bradbury”.

‘Everyone ready?’ Hattie looked up at the assembled party.

‘We’ll all follow Hattie,’ Jo said. She took her friend’s arm, and they began to walk through the garden, treading softly across the grass.

The trees had begun to shed their leaves, creating a carpet of reds and golds and the sky was cloudless, the sun bright and warm on the perfect autumn day.

Connor and his chefs had joined with the girls from housekeeping and they lined the pathway, their heads bowed in respect. Declan had stopped digging and together with his sons, they stood and removed their caps.

‘This is it,’ Harry said. He lowered his head, his hands hanging loosely by his side as he stood at the spot where Hattie had found Bill, many weeks ago. ‘Let’s have a few moments of silence, while we remember our friend.’

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