'Don't you dare say another word,' hissed Lucy, and she placed both palms on his chest and gave him a sudden sharp push backwards. He could have stood his ground but he didn't; he stepped backwards, giving her s.p.a.ce to think and breathe. 'I don't believe you. And let me tell you something. I'm glad it happened. Because without that proof, I might have been tempted to give you another chance.'

His left eye twitched. 'Lucy, you've got this all wrong.'

'No, Oren, I've got it exactly right,' she said, simmering rage powering through her veins. A verse came suddenly to mind and she smiled crookedly. 'And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales,' she quoted, taking delicious pleasure in reciting it to him, mimicking one of his favourite techniques in an argument hijacking Scripture to support his point of view. 'And he received sight forthwith.'

'Acts, chapter nine,' he said, almost admiringly. 'I taught you well.'

'I taught myself. I see you for what you are, Oren. A hypocritical liar and a cheat.'

She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the jewellery box, the burgundy tooled leather worn with age. 'Take it,' she said, holding it out to him. 'It's your grandmother's ring, not mine.'

Slowly he extended his hand, looking sheepish, and she pressed the box into his palm, sadness enveloping her as she let go of the symbol that had carried with it all her hopes and dreams. 'Let me just ask you one thing,' she said, watching his fingers fold over the domed lid of the little box. 'Why did you want to marry me?'

He slipped his hand, and the box, into his jacket pocket. 'Isn't it obvious? Because you're pure in body and in spirit. And humble and good.'

'Everything you want in a good Christian wife, then?'

'Everything, Lucy,' he said and smiled sadly, 'that I'm not.'

She swallowed and blinked hard several times. 'And what about the girl in the flat? Who's she? Will you marry her instead?'

'She's n.o.body, Lucy.' He made a funny noise, almost like a laugh and added, 'You don't marry girls like that.'

It had been a long time since Lucy had visited her mother's shop on Pound Street. She used to go there sometimes after school when Mum had to work late and Matt was in after-school club. That was one of the things she hated most about the divorce Mum going out to work.

Lucy hadn't wanted to go home to an empty house, even though she was old enough to fend for herself. So she'd go to the shop and curl up in a wingback chair and watch her mother work, begrudging her mother her prettiness and pondering the unfairness of her life. It had not occurred to her until the journey home on the train today, that she ought to be proud of her mother for establishing a successful business, running a home and raising kids almost singlehandedly. Looking back, she must've been exhausted. A faint flush crept over Lucy's face as she remembered some of the horrible, ungrateful things she had said.

And now she stood outside the shop, in the shadow of the old stone building, and shivered with nervousness, fearful of what might await her within. She set her bag on the ground and peered in the window, her breath steaming on the cold windowpane. And there, beyond a bright window display of daisy-print wallpaper, fuchsia pink fabric and lime green cushions, was Mum, sitting at the gla.s.s desk, wearing a white shirt and a navy cardigan with a chunky necklace of brown wooden beads around her neck. Something in Lucy's heart pinged like a broken string on a tennis racquet and she stepped away from the window quickly, fearful that her mother might have seen her.

If she ran, where would she go? Back to Belfast and that room that felt like a prison, surrounded by a world to which she did not belong? Or to Grandpa, who would sit her down and counsel her to do just what she had come here to do today. Matt lived in one room in a shared house she could not stay with him.

Lucy took a deep breath, picked up her bag and pushed open the door of the shop.

'Lucy!' cried Jennifer. The silver Anglepoise desk lamp shone a pool of yellow light on the papers spread out in front of her.

'I thought you'd be here,' said Lucy, dropping her bag on the floor. Her mother looked at it, then back at Lucy. She set her gla.s.ses down, came round and stood in front of the desk and glanced warily at the door. 'Oren's not with you then,' she said.

Lucy shook her head and bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She was determined not to cry, but when her mother approached and placed a hand on her arm and said, 'Lucy, what's wrong?' she could hold it in no longer. She burst into tears.

'Lucy! Whatever's the matter?' cried Jennifer and she guided Lucy over to one of the chairs where she sat down on the edge of the seat, and rubbed her back the way she used to when she was a little girl.

When the sobs had eased some, she dabbed her eyes, all sore from crying, and said, 'I'm sorry for not believing you, Mum. I know now that what you said about Oren was true and that he was lying.'

Mum let out a long sigh and placed a hand between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. 'Oh, thank G.o.d.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'It's all right, sweetheart.'

Just like that she was forgiven. It felt too easy, too generous on the part of her mother, and made Lucy all the more ashamed. 'I never should've believed him over you.'

'He's a very convincing liar, Lucy. If I was you, I might have believed him too. Love really does make us blind.' She paused and her expression clouded. 'But where's Oren now? Are you ...' She stumbled over the words, her eyes full of apprehension, 'Are you two still together?'

Lucy shook her head and looked at the floor.

'What happened?' said Mum fearfully.

'I went round to Oren's flat and found him with a girl.' Jennifer's hand stilled momentarily, then continued its circular sweep of her upper back. Lucy dabbed her nose and looked up at her mother's troubled face. 'He was having s.e.x with her.'

Jennifer's face paled. She stopped rubbing Lucy's back and gripped her shoulder instead. 'You caught them in bed together?'

Lucy sniffed. 'Not exactly.' She looked at the floor and, even though it was difficult, she faithfully recounted everything that had happened that night.

Jennifer's hand slipped off Lucy's shoulder and when Lucy looked at her, she was staring pensively at her folded hands. It would be so easy for her to say, 'I told you so,' but she said nothing.

'You're not surprised are you?' said Lucy.

Jennifer pressed her lips together the way she did when she was trying to control her temper. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and said, simply, 'I'm sorry, Lucy. You deserve better.' And then she paused and added, fearfully, 'But what about the engagement?'

'We're finished. I gave him the ring back today.'

Jennifer put her hands to her face and cried out, 'Oh, thank G.o.d. Thank G.o.d it's over.'

'I should have listened to you when you said that he was wrong for me,' said Lucy, staring at the scrunched-up hankie in her hand.

'Love doesn't listen to common sense.'

Lucy's eyes filled with tears and she dabbed at them furiously with the hankie. 'I did love him, Mum. I loved him with all my heart.' And she started crying all over again.

'Shush, darling,' said Jennifer, her eyes too now filled with tears, and she stroked Lucy's hair like she was a girl once more. 'I know you don't want to hear this right now. But he didn't deserve your love, Lucy. One day you'll find a man who does.' She paused and added, 'I thought I'd lost you, Lucy. I really thought I'd lost you.' Her voice broke up and Lucy realised that her mother was crying too.

When they'd both composed themselves, Jennifer asked, 'What did Oren have to say for himself?'

'He admitted he'd been with the girl but he told me it was a one off and it would never happen again. And then he swore blind that he hadn't made a pa.s.s at you. That's when I gave him the ring back.' Lucy paused and looked sheepishly at her mother. 'I can't believe he fooled me like that. How could I have been so stupid?'

'You weren't stupid, Lucy. You trusted, that's all. And you had no reason not to.'

'I suppose. But how can you forgive me, Mum, for not believing you?'

'Because you are my daughter, Lucy,' said Jennifer, with a loving smile. 'And I love you, always, and no matter what.' She brushed a stray hair off Lucy's forehead. 'Love makes us all do crazy things. I don't blame you, Lucy, for being true to him.'

Lucy blushed and rubbed her nose with her hand. 'You make me ashamed. You forgive me so easily and yet I can't find it in my heart to forgive Oren. All I feel is hate and love all jumbled up. And I feel terrible about that.'

Jennifer leaned forward and said earnestly, 'But you will forgive him one day, Lucy, when the hurt has faded and the pain isn't as raw. You have to come to terms with your own grief first. In time, you'll see Oren clearly for what he is and you'll find that your feelings towards him have ... softened.'

'What do you mean?'

Jennifer gave a little shrug. 'You won't hate him any more and neither will you love him like you do now. At the moment, I hate him for what he's done to you. But I pity him too. A person like that isn't capable of finding happiness in life. No matter how much he goes about spouting verses from the Bible like a fountain.'

Lucy giggled in spite of herself and Jennifer said, seriously, 'He hasn't destroyed your faith, has he?'

Lucy paused to consider this. 'Funnily enough, all this has made my faith even stronger. Knowing G.o.d loves me has been a great comfort. I can't explain it very well, but I believe G.o.d is guiding me, and even though what's happened is painful, I believe it's for a purpose.'

'Maybe the purpose in you meeting Oren was to find G.o.d.'

'Perhaps. I have him to thank for that, if nothing else.' She sniffed. 'And I know I've had a lucky escape. Imagine if I'd only discovered all this after we were married.'

Jennifer shivered and rubbed her arms. 'Don't even go there,' she said and then added, 'Maybe that's why he was so keen to get you down the aisle. He was afraid that once you realised what he was really like, you'd dump him.'

'Maybe,' echoed Lucy and she rubbed her temple and yawned. She was worn out by the day's events, her heart sore and tender from the battering ram of emotions that had a.s.sailed it over the last week and a half.

Jennifer looked at the watch on her wrist. 'I'm almost done for today. Why don't I finish up here and give you a lift home? a.s.suming you want to come home, that is?'

'I'd love to,' said Lucy, thinking of her room at Oakwood Grove with fondness. Though things would be different of course m.u.f.fin was no longer there. She looked at her mother shifting papers on the desk and blushed. She counted up the number of times Dad had had to tend to m.u.f.fin for his various ailments over the last year. Every time she'd gone home, Mum was shoving some tablet or other down his throat and it occurred to her then that perhaps Mum was right. Perhaps his death had been a blessing in a way.

'I'm sorry I blamed you for m.u.f.fin's death,' said Lucy suddenly. 'That was unfair of me.'

Jennifer stopped sifting paper and tears filled her eyes. 'Thanks for saying that, love. It means a lot.'

'It'll be strange m.u.f.fin not being there,' said Lucy.

Jennifer smiled without showing her teeth and said, 'I have to warn you.' She twirled a shiny ring Lucy had not seen before around the middle finger of her left hand and fixed Lucy with a steely stare. 'Ben Crawford's moved in.'

'Oh,' said Lucy, taken by surprise. David had sent an email telling her that Mum and Ben had got back together, but she hadn't realised things had moved this fast. 'Good,' she added and Jennifer's eyebrows rose imperceptibly. 'I ... er ... it's time I got to know him properly. I never really gave him a chance before.'

Jennifer grinned. 'I'm so pleased to hear you say that! And don't beat yourself up. It's all in the past now. I just know you two will get along famously.' The smile fell suddenly from her face and she said, 'You know about Ben and Oren, don't you?'

Lucy shook her head and Jennifer told her an astonishing story about how Ben had fought Oren over the allegations he'd made against her. 'Ben must love you very much to do that, Mum.'

Jennifer smiled happily and said with a confidence that Lucy one day hoped to emulate, 'He does.' She looked thoughtful for a moment, then added brightly, 'He's resigned from his job at Carnegie's, you know. His father wasn't best pleased, but he got a new manager in pretty quick and according to Matt, he's okay. Ben's going back to college in the autumn to retrain as a teacher.'

'Really?'

Jennifer smiled happily. 'Yeah, really. He's been unhappy in his work for some time.'

Lucy felt a lump in her throat and her eyes welled up with tears.

'What is it, Lucy?' said Jennifer quickly, leaning over and touching Lucy's knee.

Lucy paused and looked around the room that was as familiar to her as home. It was now or never. Was she going to go on living the life her parents wanted her to live? Or like Ben, would she follow her heart?

'What would you say if I didn't want to go back to uni?' she said, her voice full of misery more than hope. 'Not ever.'

Jennifer patted her knee, then removed her hand, and sat back in the chair. 'You can't let Oren spoil your future, Lucy. You've only four months or so of uni left this year. And if Oren goes to Peru like he's planned, you'll not see him next year anyway.'

'No,' said Lucy carefully. 'It's not because of Oren. You remember the things I said to you in the park?'

Jennifer stilled, and her face became very serious. 'How could I forget?'

'I meant everything I said, Mum. I hate uni. Please don't make me go back.'

Jennifer clasped her hands between her knees, stared directly at Lucy and thought for what seemed like a very long time. At last she smiled and said, 'Okay, darling, if that's what you want. But we're going to have to persuade your father first.'

Chapter 25.

Ben stood with his shirt sleeves rolled up, bathed in the bright glow of the warm May sunshine, looking out of the patio doors onto his mother's garden, bursting with new growth and bright spring flowers. Four months had pa.s.sed since he and Jennifer had got back together and his whole world had changed. He'd moved into Oakwood Grove; Alan had taken possession of the flat in Ballyfergus; and he was working two part-time jobs. Only now had he plucked up the courage to tell his parents what he ought to have told them a long time ago.

A young woman came out of the stables in cream riding pants carrying a brown polished leather saddle. She must've called out, for a three-year-old chestnut gelding trotted obediently over to her.

Diane, in a coral-coloured jersey dress, came and stood beside Ben and they both watched as the girl saddled up the horse.

'Do you ride him much?' said Ben.

Diane shook her head and said thoughtfully, 'Rarely. I get Julie to exercise the horses most of the time. I do ride occasionally but I find it very tiring and somehow I don't seem to have the time these days. I suppose I'm not as young as I used to be.' She gave him a sad smile. 'Can't remember the last time I played tennis either. I'll maybe get the racquet out and dust it off this season. What do you think?'

'Good idea,' he smiled, noticing the way the bright sun lit up the small lines and creases on his mother's face and acknowledging to himself that she was ageing. His father was due any minute he suddenly doubted that he should tell them at all. What was the point in reliving the worst night of their lives, tearing open the healed wounds and making them all bleed with grief once more? They'd all found a way to cope, a way to go on, and with each pa.s.sing day Ricky's memory receded.

Except that he was kidding himself. Ricky was as much with them now as he had been seven years ago, not only in the photos in his mother's orangery, but in their hearts. His spirit was in the air around them, enveloping them like a mist. He haunted Ben's dreams a red-haired boy with big green eyes and freckles across his nose, who teased Ben mercilessly because he was too scared to climb the big oak tree at the bottom of the garden. And when Ben woke from these dreams he was left with a nagging feeling that there was something left to be done. That Ricky would never be finally laid to peace until all the circ.u.mstances of his death had been laid bare.

The doorbell rang out. Diane said, 'That'll be him,' and left Ben alone in the room. He looked about, panicked. The hot sun slanted in the window, bleaching bright white squares on the floor. Overcome by the stuffy atmosphere, he went and opened the patio doors, and breathed in the fresh, warm air, the sweet scent of lilac filling his nostrils, and he was filled with calm. He said out loud, 'This is the last thing I'll ever do for you, Ricky.'

Then he went inside and stood by the fireplace, and moments later Diane led Alan into the room. 'What's all this about, Diane?'

'I have no idea, darling,' said Diane airily, with her back to him as if she were above his questioning. She gestured at Ben with a flick of her wrist, and said superciliously, 'He won't tell me a thing.'

Alan plonked himself down on an elegant sofa, consulted his watch and said testily, 'Well, whatever this is about, Ben, you'd better make it quick. I've got to be in the city centre for five o'clock.'

'Anyone care for a whiskey?' said Diane, gesturing at the bottle of J&B, water and an ice bucket on the table.

'Can't we just get this over with?' said Alan, eyeing the drink.

'I think a drink would be a good idea,' said Ben, and gave his father a meaningful stare.

'Oh, all right then. Make it a small one, Di, will you?'

When she'd handed out the drinks in chunky crystal gla.s.ses, and she and Alan were seated on opposite ends of the same long sofa, Diane crossed her legs. 'So, Ben,' she said, looking at him across the coffee table where he sat on a matching sofa. 'What was it you wanted to talk to us about?'

'I want to talk to you about Ricky.'

Diane and Alan looked at each other and Diane said, 'What about him?'