Second to Cry (23 page)

‘My God, that is shocking,’ Isla took a moment to process the news, her body now more relaxed. But she stiffened again as she reached her next conclusion.

‘So why were you in Chicago?’ she asked accusingly. This time Aiden knew he wouldn’t be able to feign detachment from the case.

‘I was there for work,’ he began, ‘but I also went to see Brandy. I felt that she deserved to know about the child before the news got leaked by the press.’ In a strange way he felt relieved to have confessed the true intent of his visit.

‘You went to see her,’ Isla almost shook with rage. ‘Her!’

‘She deserved to know.’

‘Let her read about it in a fucking paper like everyone else!’ Isla screamed, slamming her hands down on the table in anger. ‘You owe her nothing!’

Aiden had anticipated that Isla would be angry about the final part of his story and so he lowered his head, prepared to take the barrage of verbal abuse which she would direct towards him.

‘How could you go to her?’ Isla demanded. ‘How could you leave me, and your daughter here? With that creep stalking us!’

‘It’s not like that,’ Aiden said sternly. ‘I went to tell her about the baby her dead husband fathered. I went to tell her that as a friend. Nothing more!’

‘You’re a bastard!’ Isla shouted hatefully.

‘Am I?’ Aiden challenged. ‘Do you not think she did deserve to know? Or should I have let the husband who abused her continue to hurt her from beyond the grave? For once, Isla, put yourself in someone else’s shoes. If you were Brandy, wouldn’t you want to know?’ he pleaded with his wife to be reasonable, to not let her emotions cloud her judgement on the issue.

Isla was still, her brow furrowed as she was locked in thought, no longer caring about the potential wrinkles it could forge.

‘If I were Brandy…’ her voice was mockingly wistful. ‘Let’s see, if I were Brandy White. Well, my husband wouldn’t cheat on me with some skank
Playboy
model as I’m good in bed. And for that same reason he also wouldn’t abuse me. I imagine Brandon was just frustrated with being married to such a whiney little princess and I can’t say I blame him.’

‘How can you be so short-sighted?’ Aiden asked, dismayed by her spiteful reaction.

‘How can you be? You saved Brandy’s life! You don’t owe her anything else.’

‘I was doing the right thing, whether you see it that way or not,’ Aiden said coolly. Isla looked at him, her lips held in a tight line.

‘I’m sorry you’re angry at me, I’m sorry you don’t understand why I did what I did,’ he told her calmly.

‘That’s just the problem,’ Isla sighed. ‘I do understand, implicitly, I just don’t think that you do. You’re in denial.’

‘Fine, I’m in denial, whatever,’ Aiden just wanted the argument to be over, already feeling drained by it all which was never a good way to commence a working day.

‘I’ll enjoy reading about it all in the paper,’ Isla remarked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Aiden shook his head. ‘I want to keep this quiet, no press. I’m hoping that once I meet with Deena Fern we can agree to resolve this quietly, avoid anyone getting hurt.’

‘It’s your job to reveal the truth, Aid. You didn’t seem to have a problem hurting this family when it came to Brandy’s truths.’

‘Does the little boy deserve to be hurt?’ Aiden challenged. ‘When he grows up, is it fair for him to have to read scandalous stories about his true father? Brandon White is dead; it won’t help Davis Fern to have him revealed as his biological father.’

‘Nice, Aid, try and guilt me about the kid,’ Isla scoffed.

‘I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m trying to appeal to your humane, kinder side. The side which you try so very hard to bury.’

Isla flinched at the accusation and also the coolness behind Aiden’s eyes.

‘If you still feel the need to go to your mother’s now that you know the truth then fine, I understand, I won’t try and stop you,’ he continued amicably.

Isla struggled to stop her mouth from falling open. She had been bluffing about taking Meegan, hoping to scare Aiden in to submission, which it had. She never thought for one moment he would possibly entertain the idea. She felt panicked at the thought that she had gone too far and had driven too much of a wedge between them.

‘No, I’m…okay. Just angry, I guess. But I understand your reasons,’ she offered, trying to make amends.

‘You’ve every right to be angry,’ Aiden told her softly. ‘I should never have lied, and I’m sorry for that.’

‘So can we just move past this?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Isla smiled weakly at him, still reeling from all that she had just heard.

‘I wish I could stay but I’m going to be late for work,’ Aiden told her lamely, not liking leaving the scene so soon after such a hostile argument.

‘I’ll see you tonight.’ He kissed Isla on the forehead before grabbing his briefcase, which was waiting by the door, then dashing into the lounge and kissing his daughter.

Isla watched him pull away down the driveway, her heart still racing from the surge of adrenalin the argument had given her.

As the dust of his lies about Chicago started to settle, Isla knew what she needed to do. Clearly Aiden wasn’t going to rally to her defence when it came to the vicious notes. If Isla wanted them to stop, she’d have to do something about them herself.

*

Aiden switched on his car stereo, wanting the music to distract him from the torrent of thoughts which were storming through his mind. His palms were slick on the wheel, covered in anxious sweat.

The confrontation with Isla had left him feeling flustered. Her venom towards Brandy scared him; she bore a level of hate towards the younger woman which seemed unnatural. As much as he understood, to a degree, why Isla would hate her? He struggled to understand how she could be so very spiteful about issues such as domestic abuse. Surely, as another woman, Isla would pity Brandy and her past struggles? But instead she loathed her with a passion. Aiden shook his head to himself as he drove; he would never understand the intricacies of the female mind even if he lived to be two hundred.

It was still early but the sun had not yet been able to break through the clouds so the air carried a slight chill. Aiden shivered slightly as he got out of his car, a slight breeze tickling at his cheeks and causing his jacket to flutter. As Aiden stood outside the office, the prospect of a day’s work made him realize just how tired he was. He wished he’d been able to stay home and rest. It was perfect kite-flying weather and Meegan had never flown a kite. It was something he’d love to do with her.

But then, if he’d remained at home, he’d have been subjected to his wife’s foul mood all day. It was better for them to have space whilst the fire of her anger thawed and his fatigue was nothing a decent cup of coffee couldn’t solve. He considered popping cross the street to the bakery and purchasing one of their fresh cups of coffee, picking one up for Edmond also. He was toying with the idea when he spotted a black SUV pull in to the street just up ahead. He instantly recognized the car as belonging to Deena Fern. He was certainly not nearly awake enough to deal with yet another fervent female and so he hurriedly ran across the road, welcoming both the forthcoming caffeine and the ability to stall before having to deal with Mrs Fern.

Deena Fern was already sat on one of the shabby sofas in the waiting area when Aiden walked in with three cups of coffee nestled neatly within a cardboard carrier. Her long legs were folded neatly at her ankles as she busied herself with her cell phone. She wore skin-tight jeans with green flip-flops, a white vest top and a black leather jacket. Her hair was pulled up into a bun which was positioned on the crown of her head. She looked up briefly at him when he entered.

‘Good morning, Mrs Fern,’ Aiden smiled politely at her.

‘Mr Connelly, I must talk with you,’ she responded, her voice cold, making no time for pleasantries.

‘Give me ten minutes.’ Aiden tried to hold his smile but it was an effort. The working day was still in its infancy and yet already he had an issue residing on the sofa. He needed a simple, relaxing work day, yet fate was determined to give him the complete opposite.

Aiden walked over to Betty and handed her one of the cups of coffee from out of the cardboard holder.

‘Good morning, Betty.’ His smile for her was genuine.

‘Morning, Mr Connelly. Oh my, you shouldn’t have!’ She looked at the coffee as though he had just handed her a twelve-carat diamond. Then her expression of appreciation faltered slightly and she glanced at him with unmasked concern in her old eyes.

‘Is this?’ She pondered how to proceed with her question for fear of appearing ungrateful.

‘Don’t worry, Betty, its decaf.’ He laid a friendly hand upon her shoulder and felt her tense. Betty didn’t like any interaction which wasn’t formal. Removing his hand, Aiden headed into the office, thankful that Edmond was a man as he seemed only capable of annoying women at the moment.

‘Good morning, traveller!’ Edmond’s voice boomed from his desk. ‘How was the city?’

‘It was great,’ Aiden answered lamely, not wanting to divulge too much information about his trip. He placed a coffee on his own desk and then took the final one over to Edmond.

‘Ooh, fresh coffee!’ Edmond smiled broadly. ‘You should go away more often if this is how I’m treated when you get back!’ The older man chuckled to himself, resting his hands upon his ample belly which provided a more than adequate rest for them.

‘And I got you this,’ Aiden reached into his suit pocket and retrieved a bar of biscotti biscuit which he threw over towards Edmond.

‘Just don’t tell Betty,’ he warned Edmond.

‘You’re a good lad!’ Edmond was already eagerly removing the wrapping from the biscuit. Aiden felt a little guilty about having bought it, Betty was forever keeping a vigil about what Edmond ate since the doctor had warned him about high cholesterol. But despite the medic’s warning, Edmond remained undeterred and as keen to indulge his sweet tooth as ever.

‘I’d rather die fat and happy than live to be a hundred, skinny and miserable,’ he’d say to anyone who questioned his dietary choices.

It made Aiden think that so much emphasis was put on the quantity of someone’s life when it was the quality that truly mattered.

‘So, tell me about your trip,’ Edmond asked between mouthfuls, crumbs falling and settling upon his navy tie, which would be all the evidence Betty would need to point to fingers when she next came in the office.

‘I’d love to but I’ve got someone waiting for me outside.’ Aiden sighed, though he was now actually thankful of the excuse to side-line the conversation.

‘Oh, who?’ Edmond finished the biscuit and, glancing down, noticed the medley of crumbs. With one foul swoop he had dusted them away. Betty would be none the wiser.

‘Deena Fern.’

‘Oh, Miss December herself,’ Edmond chortled. ‘What does she want with you?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Aiden lied. He had a good inclination exactly what Deena Fern wanted to discuss with him.

‘How’s the paternity case coming along?’ Edmond’s tone was serious now as the conversation veered over in to professional territory.

‘It’s getting there.’

‘Is there even a case?’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ Aiden admitted truthfully.

‘I hope you’re conducting yourself professionally through all of this,’ Edmond said gravely, straightening in his chair, his brow furrowed.

‘Of course!’ Aiden insisted.

‘Because your client is Samuel Fern, not his wife Deena. Yet she keeps turning up here, demanding to see you. I’d hate to see you do something stupid like not respect a client’s confidentiality and get yourself disbarred.’

‘I’m on top of everything, Edmond, don’t worry.’

‘I can’t help but worry,’ Edmond sighed wearily. ‘You’re such a decent guy, Aiden. Possibly one of the best guys I know. But you’ve an innate desire to do the right thing and a weakness for damsels in distress. I’d hate to see either of those attributes get the better of you.’

‘Honestly, everything is fine,’ Aiden reassured his colleague, aware that nothing was fine.

‘Okay, well you’d best go. It’s bad to keep a lady waiting! I’d offer you the office but I’ve got calls lined up all morning,’ Edmond added apologetically.

‘No problem.’ Aiden picked up his coffee and headed back in to the waiting area.

Deena looked up expectantly from her phone which her perfectly manicured fingernails had been furiously typing into.

‘You wanted to talk to me?’ Aiden towered above her as he delivered the question, one hand holding his coffee, the other shoved into the pocket of his suit trousers.

‘Yes. Is there somewhere more private?’ Deena looked directly across at Betty as she made the request and the elderly woman flinched at the rudeness of the gesture.

‘The bakery across the street is usually quiet at this time.’ Aiden suggested, nodding towards the glass windows and beyond them, the bakery.

Deena glanced out and appeared hesitant.

‘How quiet?’

‘Quiet enough,’ Aiden clarified.

Deena sighed and stood up by way of agreement and followed Aiden out of the office, across the street and into the bakery. She ordered herself a skinny latte whilst Aiden still had his coffee and they sat at the back of the small dining area.

There was one other patron, an elderly man who was reading the paper whilst nursing a pot of tea. He was sat far enough away from them that if they kept their voices low he wouldn’t hear them.

‘So what can I do for you?’

‘Do you remember what we discussed, about Davis?’ Deena asked, her voice low and fearful.

‘You mean about Brandon White being his father? Yeah, I remember,’ Aiden answered casually.

‘Yes, about that, have you told anyone?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t be cute. Have you told anyone?’ Deena seemed nervous as she spoke, her fingers running nervously up and down the sides of the glass which held her hot drink.

‘Last time we spoke you were confident that I wouldn’t tell anyone,’ Aiden challenged, taking a sip of his coffee and enjoying the warmth as it coated his throat.