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Chapter 9

Chapter 9

'Don't look so miserable. I gave up - I must be using the wrong sort of bait.' Edward laid down the rod and stretched out on the grass beside her.

'Pa used to catch them with his hands."

"Then he must have been a better man than I am, I can't even get them to take a fly! What's the matter? Why

so glum?'

'Oh, I was just thinking.' 'What about? Going back?'

She shook her head. 'About this place.'

'It must be one of the most beautiful places on earth.'

'Not for me.' There was an edge to her voice. 'Oh, I can see you're better and itching to get back." 'No, I was thinking about Pa and Fergal and

death.'

'Why so morbid?'

You remember, when the telegram came about Lewis,

I said I knew how Ava felt?' He nodded, watching her closely, there was pain in

her eyes.

'I told you you wouldn't understand.'

'But you didn't tell me what I wouldn't understand.'

'What drives me, what I'm trying to prove, as both you and Ma keep saying.' So what does, Chloe?' Edward felt she was very close

to opening her heart to him and he waited, hardly daring

to breathe.

She looked up and pointed down river. 'Down there you can just see the ruins of St Sillan's church. It's all overgrown now, but... that's where Fergal was killed. He was shot in an ambush. For me, after Pa died, it was the end. I hated everything about this place and everyone in it! After that I felt I would never find happiness here." Oh, if only he knew how ironic those words were. 'Your father has something to do with all this, hasn't he?"

Chloe picked another dandelion and twisted it between her fingers and nodded. "The day I stood in St Mary's churchyard, when . . . they laid him to rest. I swore I'd make him proud of me. That I wouldn't stop until everyone knew who I was and that I was the best - that Patrick O'Donnell's daughter was the best!'

'You've done that now, Chloe. Isn't it time you laid the ghost?' She shivered. 'No, it's not time. I still have so much

to do.'

He raised himself on one elbow and looked at her. 'When will it be time?" 'I want to go to America. I've always wanted to go. It

was where I was determined to go when I left here."

'So you can work yourself into the ground again? Oh, Chloe, what am I going to do with you?' Edward laughed. 'Why not marry me and stay here? We could have a dozen little Chloes or Georges or GeorChloes!' he quipped. 'Who knows, it might be fun?'

Her heart turned cold. Even if she had wanted it, there could never be a marriage or children now. She sat up. 'Stop teasing me! You know I have ... not no intention of marrying anyone and it's in very bad taste after what I've just told you. I thought you'd understand.'

He got up and picked up the rod and she couldn't see his face, but when he turned to help her up there was that familiar, amused look in his eyes, the cynical smile on his lips. It was a joke, Chloe! I'm not the marrying kind either.

You should know that by now!' She'd been so certain he hadn't been joking. But strangely she was the one who felt hurt. She'd bared her soul to him and he'd joked. She would never, never confide in him again.

'Oh, by the way, before we leave I have promised that dreadful Butler-Power woman that you will sing a few songs from your wildly successful shows at some sort of soiree she's giving in your honour!'

'I thought I was supposed to be resting? How much are you charging her? You never miss an opportunity to make money do you, Edward?"

"That's how I make my living, in case you'd forgotten. But in fact I'm not charging anything this time. I think you can give your home town an hour of your time, free, don't you?'

He was hurt and disappointed. He'd almost found the deep-seated core of her ambition. He'd wanted to tell her that she had to give up her futile quest for her particular Holy Grail. It was only something that existed in her mind and heart. But yet again, he'd lost her.

Ian hadn't spoken a word the whole of the way home and Bridget could see something was troubling him, but knew it was useless to ask. David hadn't been over for almost a week and the last time he had come he'd only stayed half an hour. She decided to try another tack.

'Your mother's not well, although she refuses to admit it. Just the odd headache, she says.'

'Do you think she should see a doctor?" know. What do you think, she's your mother?"

'I don't

He shrugged. 'She's worrying over you. That's what's the matter

with her.'

'She's imagining things. She's getting old, that's all. 'You sound as though you don't care and that's not like you. You are one know.' the most caring people I

He didn't answer.

'I don't imagine things, Ian. You've changed. You never laugh any more and you're moody. It's got something to do with David, hasn't it?' 'No! We've had all this out before, Bridget. I'm

all right.'

She could see she was getting nowhere. 'Shall I suggest that your mother goes to see the doctor, or shall I just call him in? You know what she's like.' 'Has she complained of anything else other than head aches?'

'Only her rheumatics, but that's to be expected at

her age.'

Ian kicked a small stone out of his path as they turned into Cartland Drive. 'Let's see how she goes."

'And that's your answer to everything, isn't it? I don't know what's got into you lately, Ian Duncan! You don't seem to care about anything or anyone.'