Starr Fated (22 page)

Dear Mr.
Starr,

As promised, I
am forwarding to you all my design work, complete with full
handover notes and an updated memory stick for your rebranding
exercise. All the design work is now at a stage where your Creative
Team should have no problems in finalising the project to your
satisfaction in time for your meetings in New York at the end of
the week.

As things
stand following recent events, I think it best I have no further
contact with either you or Jamie. I never meant to cause trouble or
come between you and your brother, as I know you are all the family
Jamie has and he thinks the world of you. So please talk to him and
make things right again. Please don’t be too hard on him, because
what happened wasn’t really his fault, and I can't bear to think
that I could be the cause of any kind of a rift between you.

Thank you for
the wonderful opportunity my internship with your company has
afforded me. Could I just ask one more favour from you? I will be
applying for various jobs in the near future, so may I please have
your permission to show examples of the work I produced for Starr
Capital Ventures in my portfolio, and quote your company for
reference purposes? I will of course respect your decision should
you decline this request.

Yours
sincerely,

Seraphina R
Jones.

“Well? What
does she have to say?” Abbey prompted me, as I read it through for
the third time.

“Nothing very
useful for tracking her down. It’s mostly a plea for me to exercise
some brotherly love,” I muttered, not sure that Jamie was in anyway
so deserving of her forgiveness.

“So, are you
just going to give up and let her go?”

“What can I
do? I haven’t got a clue where she’s gone other than you think she
flew into Cork. If she doesn't want to be found, maybe I should
just leave her alone.”

“Liam Starr, I
never had you down as a quitter, so surely you want to go after
her? Maybe I can find something out about where she’s gone from her
next of kin information they must hold at the university admin
office, although they probably won’t tell me anything as it
probably breaks some stupid confidentiality rules. But, hang on a
minute - she must have filled in some paperwork when she applied to
work here, mustn’t she?”

“Abbey, you
are a bloody genius.” I picked up the phone to buzz through to my
PA. “Joy, get me the personnel file from HR for Seraphina Jones –
now.”

“
Seraphina Róisín, are
you going to tell me just what’s
got you running over here all of a sudden?” Nana was looking at me
intently with those green eyes of hers that were the exact same
shade as mine while I was sitting at her kitchen table quietly
sipping a steaming hot mug of tea. Over here, everyone called her
Nana rather than Gran, and I always slipped back into calling her
that. I’d been given Róisín as my middle name after her. I told
most people in England it was Rose because they struggled with the
Irish spelling, but I loved the way Nana pronounced ‘Rosheen’ with
her Irish accent.

“What do you
mean, Nana? I'm not running away from anything. I just thought
you’d be pleased to see me, after all the times you’ve asked me to
visit but I've been too busy studying,” I protested, but I avoided
her eye all the same. Nana had a sixth sense about these things –
well, about a lot of things really. She still believed in a lot of
the ‘ancient ways’ and some people even whispered that she was some
kind of a witch, but I didn’t believe in all those old
superstitions.

“Is it a man?”
she continued, as she sat opposite me and pushed a plate with a
thick slab of buttered tea bread over to me. “You’re looking awful
thin and pale – is it maybe because you’re lovesick, me
darlin?”

I smiled
ruefully to myself, because I’d known it would only be a matter of
time before she’d start with her inquisition. I was glad the small
cut on my lip was already healing up and hardly noticeable,
otherwise that would’ve led to yet more awkward questions, and I
was wearing long sleeves so she couldn’t see the bruises Jamie had
left on my arms.

When I’d
arrived at Nana’s whitewashed cottage yesterday evening having
taken the bus from Cork airport, I’d managed to avoid too many
questions by claiming tiredness. I’d made my escape to soak in the
big old bathtub, then retreated to the little bedroom that had
always been mine when I’d stayed each summer during the holidays
when I was little. As I lay in the single bed with the same rose
printed quilt and looked at the faded flower print wallpaper, I
finally felt some peace descend over me. I’d escaped. Staying with
my dear old Nana, I was hoping to lie low while I quietly licked my
wounds and figured out where I went from here.

Of course it
didn't stop me having vivid dreams again that night. Erotic dreams
of
him.
But worse, nightmares about fighting off the other
him
. I’d thought it had been serendipitous good fortune when
I’d left my handbag on the train which had led to me meeting the
Starr brothers. Now I wished I'd just lost my bag – it would have
been far less traumatic in the long run.

But even as I
fended off Nana’s questions, I knew my cousin Aoife and Aunty
Caitlin were going to be equally as curious as to why I’d turned up
after a couple of hasty phone calls yesterday. My lovely but nosy
Irish relatives were never backward at coming forward in their
concerned curiosity.

I certainly
wasn’t going to tell them the truth – that I’d had no option but to
get away from both the Starr brothers. The plane ticket had been
expensive as I’d bought it at the last minute, but I’d decided that
it was reasonable use of the unexpected wages I’d earned from the
work I’d done for him. Liam. I didn't even want to say his name in
my mind, but that was impossible of course. In time, hopefully I’d
get him out of my head. The first step had been to put as much
distance between us as I could, so that at least had been
accomplished.

“Nana, I told
you. Because I worked extra hard, I managed to finish my final
course work a little earlier than expected, so I decided I’d earned
a break, especially as it’s Aoife’s birthday this week. And you
know how much I always love it here in Ireland. In fact, I’ve been
thinking about moving over here, if I can get a job.”

“Really? And
just what kind of a job do you think you’d find here in Kinsale
that would be worthy of all those fancy qualifications you’ve
worked so hard to get?” she asked sceptically, as her eyebrows shot
up in surprise while she let this piece of information sink in.

“I know there
wouldn’t be anything here in the village, but I was thinking there
might be something suitable in Cork or maybe Dublin – that’s one of
the things I want to look into now I'm here,” I explained.

Kinsale is a
pretty fishing village some seventeen miles south of Cork, the
majority of whose inhabitants rely heavily on the tourist trade and
the sailing community for their living. Much as I loved it here, I
had to agree that the chances of an opening for someone with a hard
earned graphics degree were zilch.

“You’ve always
said the best jobs were in London, so you’ve always had your heart
set on working there, or else maybe New York. Never once have I
heard you mention anything about coming over here to the dear old
Emerald Isle. That is until now, after you’ve suddenly turned up
out of the blue, looking like death warmed up.”

“It wasn’t out
of the blue. I rang you first,” I pointed out.

Nana
sighed.

“No matter,
darlin. Have it your own way. Of course I’m more than happy to have
you here for as long as you want to stay. And no doubt things will
sort themselves out in the fullness of time. What will be, will
be,” she pronounced.

As it was now
Monday lunchtime, I couldn’t help glancing at my watch, wondering
if Abbey had accomplished the tasks I’d begged her to do for me. I
wondered what Liam’s reaction to my letter had been – relief,
primarily I imagined. He’d got his precious design brief completed,
and me out of both his and his brothers’ hair. I could almost hear
his huge sigh of relief. I just hoped he wasn’t going to be mean
spirited about my request for references and using the pieces for
my portfolio, as they would be really useful additions to be able
to show at interviews.

Abbey had
promised to send me a text to confirm there’d been no problems at
uni when she’d handed in my final piece, so I reluctantly switched
my phone on to check. No signal. Of course. I’d forgotten how poor
the reception here always was. I decided I might as well go for a
walk, drop in on my cousin Aoife, and beg use of their wifi while I
was there.

Aoife and I
had always been close. During the summer holidays when I used to
stay over, she was the nearest thing I had to a big sister,
especially as we looked very similar. She and her husband Sean
lived over the small silversmith workshop they ran in Kinsale. He’s
a very talented craftsman who forges amazing jewellery by hand
using traditional methods and tools. He based a lot of his pieces
on Celtic designs from the Book of Kells, a beautiful illustrated
manuscript containing the four Gospels in Latin that was held on
display at Trinity College Library in Dublin. I was planning to
make a visit it to see it, if I ended up in Dublin.

It was now
May, and spring was in full flow. Everything was green, wherever I
looked as I made my way over to see my cousin. Green, the colour of
Ireland, and so beautiful, even if the weather was decidedly chilly
as the breeze blew in from the sea. They might call Kinsale the
Irish Riviera, but the temperature was certainly nothing like the
French Riviera.

“Sera!” Aoife
exclaimed, as she appeared from the back of their small shop when
the doorbell rang as I walked in. She came running over and
enveloped me in a great big hug. I felt tears well up at such a
warm and loving reception, which I hastily blinked back as she held
me away from her to look more closely.

“Oh Jaysus,
aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Cuppacha?”

I quickly
tuned myself into her Irish turn of phrase.

“Yeah, I’d
love a cuppa. Thanks, Aoife”

I smiled to
myself at how my cousin’s name, the Irish version of Eva, was
pronounced ‘Eefah’ when the spelling was nothing like that at all.
So typically Irish. I’ve always loved this quirkiness about their
way of doing things.

“Sean,” Aoife
yelled out. “You’ll have to mind the shop, cos me and Sera are
going up to the flat.”

Sean appeared
from the workshop at the back. He was of average height, stocky and
well built, with a mass of red hair, numerous freckles, and
friendly twinkling blue eyes.

“And how’s me
favourite cousin-in-law?” He too gave me a great big bear hug. I’ve
always been very fond of Sean as he is one of the nicest, kindest
men I’ve ever met, and the nearest thing I have to a big
brother.

“I’m good,
thanks,” I smiled at him, then Aoife and I made our way upstairs to
their tiny kitchen.

“While I'm
here, can I use your wifi to check my messages and emails?” I
asked.

“Sure, no
problem. But first, what’s the sca? Why are you here in this
backwood instead of enjoying yourself in London?”

“London’s not
all it’s cracked up to be,” I muttered, as I fumbled around getting
my laptop out of my bag to check my emails, while Aoife busied
herself making a pot of tea.

I checked the
text messages on my mobile first – I was happy to find one from
Abbey confirming there’d been no problems handing everything in at
uni for me, so I was pretty relieved about that. My heart missed a
beat when I saw there’d also been one from Liam this morning - but
it was just a terse enquiry asking me to get in touch - no doubt
he’d wanted to know where his design work was. This was born out by
the curt email I discovered when I logged into my account on my
laptop, also wanting to know where I was. I deleted both the text
and the email as soon as I'd read them, anxious to remove all
traces of him from my life. Then I turned my full attention to
Aoife.

“Oh? And why
might that be? You look like shite, by the way.” My cousin never
was one to mince her words.

“Thanks for
that. I’m just a bit tired and run down. That’s why I thought I'd
come over for a bit of a holiday, now that I’ve completed all my
work for uni.”

“You’re not
caught are you?”

“What? No! I
am most definitely not pregnant! Absolutely not! Not a chance. You
are way off the mark,” I told her emphatically.

“I see. So
does that mean you still haven’t shagged yet?”

“Aoife!”

“So you
haven’t. Okay then, not pregnant. So what happened to your lip? You
look like you’ve been in the wars. Come on, spit it out. You know
you want to tell me,” she cajoled me. Of course her eyesight was
much better than Gran’s.

“I
…err…tripped up,” I mumbled.

“Oh yeah
right. Like I'm going to believe that. So was it a man? You might
as well fess up because you know I'm going to get to the bottom of
things,” Aoife stated firmly.

“It’s not how
it looks. It’s complicated, and I don’t want to talk about it,” I
replied.

“Tough shit.
This is me you’re talking to. You know you can tell me anything.
I’m worried about you. Mam’s worried about you. Nana’s worried
about you. We’re all worried about you, so for feck’s sake put us
all out of our misery and tell us what the hell’s been going on
with you.”

“Oh, I see.
Been the subject of all the latest gossip, have I?”

“Of course you
have. What kind of family would we be otherwise? One minute you’re
over the moon cos you’ve got this internship with some fancy posh
company, the next minute you turn up here looking like crap. It’s
obviously some kind of man trouble. Is it this Jamie, the one who
got you the room in that house you’ve been living in?” She fixed
her stare on me as she poured a mug of strong tea from the brown
teapot into a large stripy mug.