18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Cillian and Daniel were the only people left on the terrace. The older man appeared dazed.
‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked.
‘Seeing Maz was like seeing a ghost.’ Daniel scrubbed a hand through his white hair. ‘That woman ruined my life, and now she has the audacity to turn up here after everything she did?’
‘Listen, I don’t know anything about your history, and it sounds like there’s a lot of it.’ Cillian wanted to help Daniel feel better about all this. ‘But at the end of the day, surely it’s up to Alice if she wants her mum at her wedding or not?’
‘You don’t know what she’s like,’ said Daniel, in a voice that portended doom.
‘Do you? People can change,’ Cillian argued. ‘You said seeing her was like seeing a ghost. How long has it been since you last saw each other?’
‘Getting on for three decades.’ Daniel took a deep swig from the pint he’d carried all the way from the rugby club.
‘Then why don’t you reserve judgement until you’ve talked?’
Daniel shook his head. ‘You’re right about it being Alice’s choice whether she’s here or not.
It doesn’t help the fact I can’t go onto that beach and play happy families like nothing happened.
’ He gulped the last of his drink and set the glass on a table with a thunk.
‘If you knew what that woman had done to me, you’d agree. I’m going home.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Cillian, patting Daniel on the back.
‘Thank God Solly took Jack home when he did.’ Daniel blew out his cheeks. ‘Seeing his daughter after all this time could have given Jack a heart attack. Anyway, I’m off, see you soon and thanks for the chat.’
‘No worries.’ Cillian, brow creased, watched Daniel walk away.
The man’s shoulders were stooped, and each step appeared to take a gigantic effort.
What on earth had gone on with Alice’s family?
They’d better resolve their issues soon because Cillian wasn’t going to stand for May’s family drama ruining his sister’s big day.
He downed the dregs of his pint and took the stairs to the beach.
He was about to follow the sound of laughter and the first sparks of a fire in the air when he heard a sound that didn’t belong on the beach.
He looked around, wishing there was more than a sliver of moon to see by.
Yes, there it was again. Cillian pulled out his phone and turned on the torch.
He followed the sound until he reached what looked like an old boat shed.
With his ear to the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of a woman crying.
When a rap on the door with his knuckles received no response, he clicked the door open and stepped into the gloom. His torch picked out a woman sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chin.
‘May?’
‘Go away.’
‘No.’ Cillian stepped towards her. ‘I can’t leave you here like this.’
‘I want to be alone.’
He dropped to the floor beside her, trying to ignore the woozy feeling as the earlier shots caught up with him.
‘Please, just go away.’ May sniffed, her belligerence turned to pleading.
Cillian’s heart went out to her. ‘You shouldn’t be alone when you’re upset.’
May sighed. She wiped her face against her sleeve, sniffed again, and peered at him with swollen eyes from beneath her fringe. ‘Fine. In that case, will you answer a question for me?’
‘Of course,’ said Cillian, relieved the tears had stopped even temporarily.
‘OK. I’d like to know in what world you thought a polyester, rhinestone-covered jumpsuit was a good look?’
Cillian looked down at himself by torchlight and barked out a laugh. ‘Do you know, I’d totally forgotten I was wearing this. I think I look rather fetching.’
‘Fetching?’ May shook her head and gave him a watery smile. ‘That’s one word for it, I suppose.’ She let out a sound that Cillian couldn’t distinguish as a laugh or a cry.
‘You going to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asked, gently nudging May with his shoulder. ‘I’m guessing it has something to do with your mother turning up out of the blue?’
‘How did you guess?’ Sarcasm hardened her voice.
‘I take it you’re not pleased to see her?’
‘You could say that.’ May’s voice broke, and Cillian reached out in the darkness and took her hand.
He expected her to pull away, and when she didn’t, he risked placing an arm around her shoulders. To his surprise, May buried her head in his chest, soaking his polyester jumpsuit as her tears fell. Now was not the time for chatter, so he simply held her as sobs rocked her body.
Eventually May pulled away. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, pulling a tissue from her pocket and blowing her nose. ‘I think I just unleashed five years’ worth of tears into your Elvis suit.’ She gave a wobbly laugh. ‘I’m not sure it’ll ever recover.’
Cillian smiled, fighting the urge to brush the tears from her cheeks. He guessed May didn’t often display her emotions so freely, and he needed to tread carefully in case she closed herself off once more.
‘These are tears of anger rather than sadness, by the way,’ May explained in a matter-of-fact tone.
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. Having your mum abandon you just before your exams kind of pisses you off. She’s shown zero interest in my life for the past five years.
It’s hard not to take offence at that. Someone’s got to be a real piece of trash for not even their mother to care about them. ’ May punched her fist on the floor.
‘Hey,’ said Cillian. ‘If you’re really so bad, why does Alice love you so much? And Jack, and Margot, and Solly, and Sylvie, and Paige?’
‘You don’t know what I’m like.’
Her voice reminded him of Daniel’s earlier doom-laden demeanour. He wanted to make the gloom go away and told her the truth. ‘I remember being fascinated by you from the moment I laid eyes on you.’
May gave him a quick sideways glance. ‘When you walked into the Ship with Kitty?’
Cillian was being tested. And after May’s candour, and his own, how could he keep up the pretence? ‘No,’ he said, looking down at his hands. ‘I mean, when I saw you in that pub in Plymouth.’
May grinned. ‘So you do remember? I kind of wish you didn’t. I wasn’t at my best that night.’
‘I don’t remember you being so bad.’
May shook her head. ‘I’d like to tell you my behaviour was out of character. I can’t. Unfortunately, that’s standard for a Saturday night in May Tyler land.’
‘You get drunk and sleep with famous pop stars every Saturday night?’ Cillian tried to lighten her self-recrimination. It worked to an extent.
‘I didn’t know you were famous!’ said May, her voice full of indignation.
‘I’m only teasing.’ Cillian smiled. ‘You like to party, then?’
‘I thought I did … I don’t know. I guess I’m just my mother’s daughter.
’ She paused. ‘Come on.’ May stood, brushing cobwebs and debris from her legs.
‘We’d better go and re-join this so-called party.
We wouldn’t want to start rumours flying if someone discovers the famous pop star hiding out in the boat shed with the local screw-up. ’
Before Cillian could tell her that wasn’t how he saw her, or question why she saw herself that way, May had stepped over his legs and walked out the door. As he ran to catch her up, Cillian decided May Tyler was a riddle he’d very much like to solve.