Kissing Maggie Silver (8 page)

“We’re going to have tea,” Amy told her, hanging onto the collar of Ruairi’s polo shirt as she swiveled round to talk to her.

“Well that’s really lucky because I’m so worn out from shopping that I need a cup of tea myself, so maybe we can look at the menu together and you can help me to choose a cake to eat with it.”

As she spoke to the children her eyes were full of questions and as soon as they left the lift Maggie told her about June and the baby while Ruairi walked ahead of them with the children clinging like limpets to his shoulders.

“Poor June,” she murmured. “I know how she feels because I’ve been there, except my baby didn’t recover. Tom and I had a little girl when Ruairi was four. She was beautiful. We called her Colleen, and when she was born we were so happy. Then the doctor told us there was something wrong with her…that she had a heart defect…he said she would only live for a few weeks.”

She turned and looked at Maggie, her eyes full of tears.
“He was wrong though. She survived for almost a year. She was such a happy baby too, and so good. It was almost as if she knew she wasn’t going to be with us for very long so she was determined to leave us with wonderful memories.”

“Ruairi adored her,” she added.
“He wouldn’t accept it when she died. He was quite sure she was still in the hospital having more tests. In fact I don’t think he really got over her death until several years later when we met your family and he saw you.”

“So that’s why he was always so patient with me,” Maggie used Sophie’s cardigan to wipe away her own tears of sympathy.

Marie O’Connor nodded sadly. “Yes. You replaced the little sister he lost, while Mark, Peter and Andrew became the brothers I could never give him.”

And that explains everything
thought Maggie despondently as she followed the older woman into the hotel suite. Ruairi really does think of me as a little sister after all; it’s just that until now I never knew it.

* * *

The children abandoned Ruairi and Maggie as soon as Mrs. O’Connor produced the room service menu and told them that as soon as they had chosen what they wanted for their supper she would telephone the hotel kitchen to order it. After much deliberation and a very detailed conversation about whether the hotel chef knew how to make proper cheese sandwiches, they placed their order, and then the three of them settled down in front of the television to watch a children’s program.

Relegated to second best, Maggie wandered out onto the balcony to look at the view she had only glimpsed through the dusk on the previous evening. Below her a long rolling lawn ended at the river bank where a few hotel guests were still stretched out on recliners,
making the most of the late afternoon sun. Further off a flotilla of ducks made its way upstream skillfully avoiding the boats that were drifting slowly back to their moorings. Weeping willows trailed branches in the water while cow parsley and marsh marigold softened the edges of the river and a few majestic horse chestnut trees on the far bank added a dramatic backdrop.

Ruairi join
ed her and handed her a long glass clinking with ice cubes. “Orange and cranberry juice with soda,” he told her. “I thought you might say it was too early for wine.”

“You thought right,” she smiled her thanks as she sipped her drink. “With two small girls to get to bed I need all my wits about me.”

“Not something you need to worry about for a while,” he gestured towards the open doors of the balcony behind them. “Mum is in her absolute element. Nothing that we do on this holiday will be as good as having Sophie and Amy all to herself for an hour or two.”

“Well all help is gratefully accepted,” Maggie laughed. Then she grew serious.

“Your Mum just told me that she onc
e lost a baby, a little girl.”
“Yes, Colleen. I was very small, three or four I think. I don’t really remember much about her.”

“But she told me you doted on her.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps I did but I soon forgot. I was barely more than a baby myself. I know we moved house quite soon after she died although I barely remember doing that either, but I do remember having to go to a new school.”

“And that’s where you met Mark and then Peter and Andrew.”

He smiled down at her. “Yes. And later on I met you too.”

“Your Mum says
you didn’t really get over your sister’s death until you met me. She says I sort of replaced her in your mind.”

Maggie wanted to get it out in the open, wanted to hear Ruairi tell her how it had all happened, how she had become his surrogate sister, and how he still thought of her in that way.
She wanted him to say the words that would kill the hope that kept bubbling up inside her every time he touched her. She wanted him to say something that would stop her wanting him. He didn’t though.

“Well that’s something else that I must have forgotten too,” he said, his voice unexpectedly sharp and dismissive as he took her empty glass and turned away.

He hadn’t meant to snap at her but he didn’t want to talk about the past. He didn’t want to talk about his childhood, or about his schooldays, and he certainly didn’t want to talk about the little girl who was supposed to h
ave replaced his sister because whatever had happened when they were children, he certainly didn’t have any brotherly thoughts about her now. Quite the opposite in fact! Spending so much time with her doing ordinary family things, and, although he was trying hard to forget it, holding her in his arms while she cried her heart out for June and the baby, was slowly destroying him.

* * *

Maggie turned back to the view and gazed sightlessly at the river. Ruairi’s abrupt manner had startled her. Was he fed up with her? He had been so patient all day, with her and with the children. He had done everything he could to keep them entertained without once forgetting about the heartache that Mark and June were facing. Then he had taken her to the hospital when she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer and, when the news was good, had been as relieved as she was. And never once during all that time had she thought about the holiday he was meant to be having and wondered whether he’d had to cancel plans of his own so he could take care of them.

Behind her the children were laughing at something on the television and then she heard Mrs
. O’Connor’s soft voice as she answered a knock on the door. Their tea must have arrived. She ought to go in and supervise. Then she remembered the delight on Marie O’Connor’s face when she first saw the children in the elevator, and what Ruairi had just said about his mother being in her element, and she knew she had to leave them to it.

Whether she liked it or not she was going to have to stay out on the balcony for a little longer and pretend she was enjoying the view
, even though she could barely see it through the blur of tears that kept leaking into her eyes. And she was going to have to pretend Ruairi was enjoying everything too; that he wasn’t just being helpful because of a sense of obligation, a last link to a friendship that had faded years ago and would never have been renewed if it hadn’t been for the fact that her parent’s ruby wedding celebration had coincided with one of his infrequent visits home.

She also had to forget the sharpness in his voice as he left the balcony, ignore the one lapse that had shown her a glimpse of the boredom he must be feeling.
After all, considering the life he was used to, it was a miracle he had managed to keep smiling all day. He had though, and if he could do it then she could too, even though her heart was slowly breaking.

Chapter Seven

Much later, after Ruairi had taken her and the children home and carried a very sleepy Amy upstairs to where Maggie was running a bath while Sophie searched for their pajamas, he offered to collect a takeaway meal while she finished putting both girls to bed.

Maggie gritted her teeth as she shook her head. No way was she going to spend the evening with him, not now it was clear to her that he was just looking after her and the
children in the same way he was looking after his mother. She wasn’t going to be beholden to his sense of duty for another minute, so there was a sharp edge to her own voice once she had it under control sufficiently to reply.

“No thanks.
You’ve already done more than enough for us. Go back to the hotel and spend some time with your poor mother. After all you’re meant to be giving her a holiday. I’m just going to clear up here and then have an early night. The fresh air has worn me out.”

If he noticed the change in her tone of voice, he ignored it.
Instead he gave her a doubtful look. “Are you sure? It’s a long time since we ate that pizza.”

“I’m absolutely sure. Besides, I expect Mark will arrive home soon, so I’ll just wait for him to get here and then cook something for both of us.”

He disentangled Amy from around his neck and passed her over. “In that case I’ll go, but I’ll be back in the morning,” he added as both children started to protest. “And if you’re good and go to sleep quickly then maybe we can do something nice again tomorrow. Perhaps we could go swimming or something.”

Sophie and Amy beamed at him, hero worship shining out from their eyes as they sat at either end of the bath.
Maggie felt like screaming at the unfairness of it all. Just who did he think he was suggesting treats for the children? It wasn’t his job to look after them. It was hers, and as far as she was concerned he was taking his pseudo uncle role just a bit too seriously. Besides, the thought of spending a single moment in a swimming pool with him was something she didn’t want to contemplate. Coping with him fully dressed was quite enough. She didn’t want an intimate view of the long lean muscles that were hidden beneath his clothes, nor did she want to know whether the rest of his body was tanned to the same warm color as his face.

She was going to refuse and if it hurt his feelings, well too bad.
She needed a plausible reason though, something that would stack up with Mark and June when the children told them she had refused to take them swimming because, if she was sure of one thing, it was that they would tell them. That was what children did. She cast around for something that would keep Sophie and Amy happy because she wasn’t going to upset them just because she was in the middle of a stupid emotional crisis.

She had a sudden brainwave.
“I’m not sure about the swimming,” she said. “But I know what they would like. They would like you to bring your Mum with you tomorrow, and besides I’d enjoy spending some more time with her too.” She had to speak loudly to make her voice heard above Sophie and Amy’s squeals of excitement.

“That’s if she doesn’t have any other plans of course,” she added, crossing her fingers under the soapy water as she started to wash her nieces.

“What a great idea. Thanks Maggie. I’ll suggest it to her. She was talking about meeting up with some old friends but I don’t think it’s a definite arrangement.” Ruairi’s response was warm and enthusiastic.

Far too enthusiastic as far as Maggie was concerned because it confirmed what she already knew, that he would be only too glad to have someone else to take over the onerous chore of helping out with her and the
children. In fact she’d probably done him a favor by suggesting it because now he knew his mother would be happy and busy too, which would be one more item ticked off on his duty agenda. He would probably deliver Mrs. O’Connor tomorrow and then suddenly remember something else he had to do and leave them to it.

Everything clear in her own mind, she gave him a small, cool smile, satisfied she had regained control of the situation.
If he didn’t leave voluntarily tomorrow then she would make sure he felt so outnumbered that he would be glad to escape to something more macho, like meeting up with male friends, or indulging in extreme sports or something. She was quite sure that whatever he did in his leisure time involved an adrenaline kick. After all nobody who looked like Ruairi O’Connor and led the life he did would choose to spend his time with two little girls, his ageing mother, and an emotionally challenged primary school teacher.

She remained in control as he returned her smile, pushing all thoughts of how kind he had actually been to her right out of her mind.
And she would have managed to maintain her cool demeanor if he hadn’t bent down and kissed the children goodnight and then angled his face to hers, smiled deep into her eyes, and kissed her cheek.

“Until tomorrow then,” he said.

“Until tomorrow,” she agreed, hoping he hadn’t noticed a sudden shakiness in her voice, and then she kept her back towards the bathroom door so she wouldn’t have to watch him walk away. Time enough for that when he goes for good, she told herself, pressing her fingers to where his kiss lingered on her cheek.

* * *

As Maggie had anticipated, Mark arrived home mid-evening, tired and disheveled but much happier and very talkative.

“He’s coming out of the incubator tomorrow,” he told her.
“And then June will be able to feed him. The doc says that because he’s such a good weight, and really strong, he’s making a faster recovery than they anticipated. He is pretty sure everything is going to be fine…”