Page 79 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Soon have you back at Boomerville,’ he said as he started the engine.

For the durationof the journey, Finbar did everything in his power to make conversation. He admired Melissa’s outfit and asked if she was enjoying her stay in Ireland. Was she happy at Boomerville Manor? Had she made any friends? What did she think of the restaurant and had she enjoyed the stage show? Finally, he tentatively asked why she hadn’t come to his singing classes, despite being booked on the course.

But it was of little use.

Melissa’s answers were monosyllabic, she was curt and every response was short. By the end of the journey, Finbar knew no more about her than he had at the beginning and as he pulled up at the front of the manor and turned off the engine, she was out of the car and through the door before he had a chance to help her.

Had he done something to upset Melissa or was the woman just rude? Finbar was mystified. He still had a feeling in the back of his mind that he’d seen her somewhere before, but he was damned if he could place her. Perhaps her bad manners were due to the fact that she was worried about the bloke in the hospital, maybe he was more than just a friend? It still didn’t excuse her.

But God loves a tryer and Finbar was determined that he would try again.

In the meantime, he had shopping to do and several more fares to take care of before the day was done.

* * *

Melissa peepedout of the curtains in her bedroom and watched Finbar’s car pull away. As dust swirled from the surface of the tyres, she couldn’t believe that she’d been so bad mannered. The poor man had done everything possible to make her journey comfortable and enjoyable but she’d snapped at each of his questions, making it clear that she had no desire to talk. She’d kept her head down too and huddled in a corner, hoping that his delicious fiery green eyes didn’t seek her out in the rear view mirror. Instead of thanking him for his time and kindness, she’d run into the manor without so much as a goodbye.

He must think that she was a stuck up bitch with a capital “B”.

Melissa turned from the window and sighed. Finbar reminded her so much of Patrick that she felt a physical pain. Kind, funny and attractive, she longed to spend time with this man who’d magically reappeared from her past. It was no good denying it, Melissa yearned for his company. He’d made her feel so special all those years ago, when she’d twirled in his arms and they’d danced across the stage.

She felt her cheeks flush.

How could she ever forget the nights in his cabin? Lying together on the narrow bed, as the liner surged through the Caribbean sea, their bodies entwined, exhilarated and happy, following hours of love-making. Melissa touched her palm to her heart and closed her eyes.

The years had seemed to melt away when she saw Finbar. Gone was the nightmare marriage with Malcolm and the terror of being trapped at the hands of a monster. She sighed and toyed with the ends of her hair. But how on earth would she explain that she couldn’t come to Finbar’s singing classes, when they were to have been a highlight of her trip?

Melissa opened her eyes. The package of food that Hattie had kindly prepared sat unopened on her bed. She’d no appetite and tossed it into the bin.

Sitting in the hospital, with the nurses hard at work as she stared at Bill, hoping that he’d wake up, Melissa had sipped a cup of cold weak tea and nibbled on a chocolate biscuit. It had been all she could manage as she watched Bill sleeping; the tubes and machinery that surrounded him made her feel quite queasy. His face was a mess, swollen and with bruising beginning to show around his eyes; she’d felt so terribly sorry for him. He didn’t seem to have had a very happy life and now, having made the courageous leap into something new, a brave decision given his circumstances, he’d met with an unfortunate accident and by the look of things, was very poorly.

She stroked his hand, willing him to wake up and get better. He’d been so protective when Malcolm turned up in Cumbria, if only she could help him now. The nurses had said that, although asleep, Bill might be aware that someone was sitting by his bed.

She’d decided to talk to him.

‘Bill,’ she’d begun, ‘it’s Melissa. Can you feel me touching your hand?’

She’d carried on, whispering to Bill about Boomerville Manor and how everyone was so worried for him but there was no response and she’d been relieved when Hattie turned up to take over.

Now, as the afternoon turned into evening, she knew that she couldn’t stay in her room. With Finbar off the premises, perhaps she’d go down to dinner to take her mind off things. It would be good to find Teddy too and take him for a walk. Shrugging off the dress that’s she’d worn all day, Melissa slipped into a pair of smart black trousers and a white silk shirt. She reached for a pair of animal print pumps and as she pulled them on, sighed with relief. At least Malcolm hadn’t contacted her. Her husband was far away and had no idea where she was. How wonderful it was to be out of his clutches and not living in an environment of constant fear.

Melissa brushed her hair and tucked the shining locks behind her ears. She reached for a lipstick and carefully applied a coat of red gloss. The bright colour gave her confidence and she decided that she’d have a glass or two of wine with her dinner to celebrate life without Malcolm.

As she picked up her bag and moved across the room to the door, her mobile began to ring. Perhaps it was Patrick! Feeling suddenly excited to speak to her son, Melissa held the phone to her ear.

‘Hello?’ The phone was silent. Puzzled she looked at the screen and saw that the number was withheld. ‘Patrick, is that you?’ she asked.

The voice that replied was cold. Melissa recognised it instantly and, unable to speak, felt her knees give way as she sank onto the bed.

‘I know that you can hear me, you stupid bitch,’ Malcolm said, his tone low and menacing. ‘I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully and do exactly as I tell you.’

Melissa felt beads of sweat on her forehead. She slapped her hand to her mouth to silence an uncontrolled whimper.

‘You son is a junkie,’ Malcolm began. ‘A coke head, heroin too.’

Melissa gasped.

‘It began in Marbella, at your perfect villa, when he went out on the town with Giles.’ Malcolm paused to let the words sink in. ‘You were so wrapped up in yourself, you never noticed and of course, never knew that it got worse.’

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