My Husband's Sin Read online

  In the weeks following Lillian Taylor’s burial, her four loving adult children assemble for the reading of her will. For the grieving youngest sibling, Lacey, life is about to come crashing down as a deep secret is revealed. The fall-out affects every member and they struggle to regain the happy family unit they once shared. Each of the siblings, take the reader on a journey as they try to come to terms and learn to handle this huge revelation.

  MY HUSBAND'S SIN

  Mary T. Bradford

  Published by Tirgearr Publishing

  Author Copyright 2014: Mary T. Bradford

  Cover Art: EJRDigitalArt - http://ejrdigitalart.com

  Editor: Christine McPherson

  Proofreader: RL McCoy

  A Smashwords Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please log into the publisher’s website and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  DEDICATION

  For Colin, and our children, Liam, Lisa, Audrey, and Stephen, with much love.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to thank all in Tirgearr Publishing for their encouragement and support and in particular my editor Christine and her wonderful help, thank you. There are so many friends and writing friends who encouraged and supported me, shared laughs and rejections, especially my best buddies in my local library whose staff are wonderful, thank you.

  Finally to all of my family, thank you for your support and belief in me.

  MY HUSBAND’S SIN

  Mary T. Bradford

  CHAPTER ONE

  JULY

  Lacey fled the Sherman and Jones Solicitors’ office in turmoil, only pausing to catch her breath before descending the cold solid steps. The appalling words kept ringing in her ears. How the bloody hell could a mother do this to her child? A bitch, that’s what she was. Lacey should have trusted her instinct all through the years.

  The pleasant July day was lost on her. Without thinking further, she sought solace in the bar further down the street. In the dimly-lit pub she was the only woman.

  Lacey Taylor didn’t drink alcohol this early, but placed in front of her now was a double vodka with bitter lemon. Taking the glass in her trembling hand, she drank swiftly. The sour liquid made her shake her head. God, it was unpleasant. In one corner, two elderly men were sipping their stouts. Another up at the bar was reading the day’s paper.

  The barman came over to where she sat and smiled. “A tough morning so far then?” He wiped down the glass-topped table and replaced some beer mats with fresh un-tattered ones.

  Lacey didn’t reply. She couldn’t. The shock of this morning’s events was still gripping her tight. Christ, her life had been turned upside down in the stroke of a pen. Her hands still shook.

  Looking the barman up and down, she acknowledged he was kind of cute. If times were different, she might even flirt with him; his tight black t-shirt groaned across his chest, but she didn’t have time to daydream. Reality had her gripped in its cold heartless hand.

  “Can I have another?” Lacey called out to the bar attendant as he moved on to wiping down other tables. He nodded and went to the bar to get her fresh drink.

  Her mind was swimming with horrible thoughts of her mother. Dear Lord, she mustn’t think like that any more. She was Lillian, not Mother. Where do you start to pick up the pieces of your life after something like that? Her mobile phone rang: it was Sally. Lacey snapped at it, turning it off in one quick touch. Bloody family. Her bloody family!

  The fresh glass was placed in front of her. He seemed to linger for a moment, waiting for Lacey to make eye contact. She really did not want his company but he wasn’t going anywhere, judging by his stance before her. She looked up at him. Yep, definitely cute.

  “You could try talking. This will only lead to a headache and misery.” The guy smiled encouragingly, but all she did was stare back at him, confusion and anger in her eyes. Throwing a twenty on the table, she stood up and paused.

  “Maybe misery is what I deserve.”

  Her taupe Guess handbag and caramel jacket hung on the chair. She shoved the bag onto her shoulder, took her jacket, and walked out. Kind, attractive barmen were not what she wanted. She desired space and freedom to take in and assimilate the horrible rotten words that she’d heard today. Who would believe it? Who would have thought when she’d wakened this morning at seven, that five hours later her life would have crashed down around her? With her mind troubled, she wandered without direction through the busy streets.

  Lacey’s world had stopped, yet around her cars passed by beeping their irritation with the slow traffic, people pushed and chatted without a concern for the young woman in their midst. She strolled along, not fully noticing life around her. Those words, those poisonous words, kept swirling in her mind. The look of horror on her siblings’ faces would be etched on her memory forever. She couldn’t face them right now. What must they think of her?

  “Watch it.” The woman grunted at Lacey.

  “Sorry.” Lacey didn’t know what she was apologising for, but it startled her into realising she needed to get home. It would be safe there.

  Closing the apartment door behind her, the silence was welcome. Standing in her hallway, she stared in the silver-edged mirror. She looked no different. Peering harder at her image, she tried to see what was different, but nothing came back at her. On the outside, she was the same Lacey Taylor who had walked out her door this morning, but it was undoubtedly a different woman who had returned.

  Wrapping her arms around herself in a hug, the tears came easily. Her phone showed numerous missed calls; the red light on her answering machine flashed, showing more messages awaiting her. She ignored them all and decided to go to bed. It didn’t matter to her it was only lunchtime. Like a little girl scolded for being bold, she wanted the warmth of her duvet, the comfort of blocking out the world. Why? Why did it have to be her? Damn her parents. Damn the whole blasted lot of them.

  Before the reading of her mother’s will, she had only been worried about what to wear and how long the process would take. In the end, she had gone with a caramel pant suit with cream camisole, complementing her auburn hair. She emitted a slight laugh as she remembered her older sister, Willow, advising her not to wear the sexy red party dress. Her sister. Lacey wondered if she had the right to call her that any more, not forgetting her other siblings, Robert and Sally.

  To think, she had sat innocently in the solicitor’s office, letting her thoughts drift as she noticed how the stifling room was kept cool by a small discreet fan. A large potted fern in the corner had swayed a little when the fan swirled in its direction. On the wall above the plant, Mr. Sherman’s credentials were neatly framed on the wall. The clock placed above the doorway had ticked away the minutes as they waited.

  Lacey buried herself deeper beneath the soft duvet. She was cocooned now, only wisps of her hair peeking out. From her safety net, she recalled the morning’s meeting.

  As she hadn’t been present for the reading of her late father’s will, the reading of her mother’s was a new experience for Lacey. She had noticed how the brown leather chair dwarfed Mr. Sherman when he sat. He had a head of thick snow white hair and, together with the light colouring of his suit, he appeared very pale. But it didn’t reduce the impact his voice made. It came across like a judge passing sentence as he read from Lillian’s will.

  There were no surprised gasps when, as expected, Willow and Sally were left t
heir mother’s jewellery collection. They knew it was stored at the local branch of their bank in a safety deposit box. Robert’s bequest of his father’s art collection again provided little surprise. However, when Sally’s name was revealed as the new owner of the family home, the siblings wondered about Lacey.

  Willow being the one to pose the question. “Excuse me, but what about Lacey? Mum seems to have overlooked our baby sister.”

  Now curled up in bed, she closed her eyes tight and stuck her fingers in her ears to drown out those dreadful words filling her mind as the solicitor’s deep voice resounded in her head. She had hoped that the sanctuary of her bedroom would make her feel safe, make the nasty experience of today disappear. That she would have shelter within her own four walls. But no such luck. Did he have to say those words, those nasty life-changing words?

  It was no good. Hiding beneath her duvet did not stop the horror that was rising in her chest. Instead of comfort, it became claustrophobic. Lacey threw back the coverings and snatched her dressing-gown. The fluffy material rubbed against her and she tied it tight while she headed for the sitting room. Peeping out of her handbag was the evidence that this morning had really happened.

  She stared at the envelope with disdain. Her name was written clearly across it; there was no mistaking who it was for. This was the reason their pre-arranged family dinner tonight had been cancelled. Would this be the sign of things to come, her siblings cancelling any future family get-togethers?

  Tears fell as those fatal words Mr. Sherman had struggled to say rang in her ear, and she could no longer ignore them.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Talk about a calamity. What had his mother been thinking? Robert Taylor hated the formalities that death brought to life at the best of times – the removals, wakes and funerals, and will readings. He sat in his navy Mercedes and tried to clear his head. Earlier, going up in the lift to the solicitor’s office, he’d had no idea of what lay ahead. His mood dark, he’d looked at his watch, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. It should only be a matter of procedure.

  Willow and he had chatted last night and there were no surprises expected. All going well, Robert should be back in his own office within an hour, give or take. Well, how wrong he’d been.

  As Rob watched Mr. Sherman collect the formal papers and rearrange them on the large desk, he’d wondered how long would it take to read the will.

  “I offer my deep sympathy to each of you at this difficult time right now.”

  Ah, Rob thought, at last we have a start.

  Philip Sherman shook hands with each one of them before he sat down. The solicitor was mindful of his manners and asked the grieving family if they would require any refreshments. Robert remembered smiling discreetly when the others declined. From the strained looks on his sisters’ faces, he reckoned they too wanted out of there as soon as possible.

  “I, Lillian Taylor, being of sound mind and body…” the elderly gentleman began reading. Robert’s heart had given a little jump when he heard his mother’s name. She was a strong woman, a mother who looked out for her children. He missed her. He sniffed back the tears that were edging their escape. He didn’t want to cry there; he could do that in the privacy of his own home. Even with Aoife, he didn’t feel comfortable to release his sadness. Their relationship was still in its early stages, even though they’d been friends for years before finally dating.

  In his car now, he was close enough to the seclusion he yearned and the tears fell silently. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and caught his reflection in the rear-view mirror. All he could recall was Lacey smiling over at him in the solicitor’s office. The poor mite, he had thought then, all babies need their mum no matter what their age. Smiling back, he had hoped it reassured her.

  All the morning’s proceedings were running through his mind. How he’d nodded his head appropriately when it was revealed he would be getting his father’s art collection. The house was to be Sally’s; fair enough. But what about Lacey? Robert had been about to ask but Willow got in before him. He shook his head at the memory. Worse was then to come.

  He saw it all again, how they were all sitting forward in their seats, shock covering them in an icy blanket. Had Robert heard the old man right? Willow was grabbing her chest in pain and Lacey was staring at an envelope in her hand.

  “Lacey, wait, please wait,” he had shouted after his sister, the awful words of his mother’s will ringing in his ears.

  Grabbing his seat-belt, he fastened it and started up the car. He would go straight home. He would seek his sisters out later, but right now Robert was overwhelmed. A hug from Aoife would help; he would ask her to come over and share dinner.

  * * *

  She didn’t like offices; Sally was the outdoors type. She really hadn’t wanted to go to the will reading. Willow and Robert had told her that it would be okay, that it was straightforward and shouldn’t take long. She’d only returned to Dublin six months ago from her latest travels, but felt relieved she had been living at home when Lillian died.

  Now Sally walked along the busy streets, having given up searching for Lacey. A nearby bench caught her eye and she went over to sit down. Her normally calm mind was in turmoil. She couldn’t imagine being able to sleep soundly another night after the disastrous morning they had all just gone through.

  Flashes of that disaster sparked in her mind. In the office, she’d kept a firm grip of Willow’s hand for support. Sally hadn’t been able to contain her tears flowing down her face, she had wiped at them with a crumpled tissue held in her fist. The large office was stuffy with so many of them gathered there, the air struggling to remain fresh.

  Sally had admired the strength her older sister Willow had shown. She looked tired but hadn’t flinched when Mr. Sherman mentioned their mother’s name. Sally had struggled to take in what was being said; her grief gripping her in a haze of confusion. Forcing her concentration to listen, Sally recalled hearing Willow ask Mr. Sherman a question.

  His reply had struck the Taylors like a cold slap in the face. Then Lacey was running from the office clutching an envelope.

  The breeze chilled her a little as Sally rocked back and forth on the timber bench, not knowing what to do next. What would this revelation lead to? she thought. What would happen to them all now?

  * * *

  Alone in a side room, the offices of Sherman and Jones in Merrion Square, Dublin, were not strange for Willow. She recalled being here at the reading of her father’s will some years before, but how different a day that had been.

  She sipped the hot sweet tea the young receptionist had brought her. Sweet tea was supposed to be the answer to all of life’s problems, including shock. Boy, what a shock! Her mother had played an ace; if she had wished for a surprise at the will reading, then Lillian Taylor had got her wish.

  Willow missed her mother greatly. They had shared so much in life, it was strange not hearing her voice each morning. It was their little ritual, one of many that they had shared. Every morning her mother would ring at nine o’clock to see what was planned for the day. Willow’s days always included some contact with Lillian, be it lunch, shopping, or just popping over for coffee. That had all changed since she died. As head of the family, Willow would expect to be the one her siblings would turn to. Would that still be the case now?

  No matter how angry she should be with her mother for destroying the family unit, she couldn’t help but have sympathy for her. What a burden Lillian had lived with.

  Willow knew it was hard on Lacey to lose two parents in a relatively short space of time. Now thinking back over it, Willow shivered. How would she have reacted if it had been her? Willow sat up straight. She needed to regain her composure. After all, the Taylor name carried weight in the community. She placed her trembling hand on her chest but the pounding of her heart had quietened.

  Trying to get a grip on what had actually happened, she shook her head, hoping to recall with clarity what had been said. She remembered th
at her little sister had been omitted from the will, and that was strange. Not wanting Lacey to be upset, she had seen it as her duty to remind Mr. Sherman about Lacey. Why did she open her mouth? It rattled in her weary mind now how she had asked, “Excuse me, but what about Lacey? Mum seems to have overlooked our baby sister.”

  Willow had been rather embarrassed to be enquiring, but she was now officially head of the family. Oh, the memory was upsetting all over again as she recalled what happened.

  The solicitor’s voice had been clear and soft as he replied. “I shall be getting to that, Mrs. Shaw, if you permit me to continue.” Glancing over at Sherman, she had seen him hand Lacey a sealed envelope.

  “Finally, to Lacey Taylor, daughter of Joe Taylor, I give you a letter. I did my best and at last I am free of you – my husband’s sin.”

  That was when Willow had felt faint, the office walls closing in around her. Had she heard right?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lacey lounged in her comfy pyjamas thinking, with Milly curled up beside her, purring gently. She was indeed Joe Taylor’s daughter but not Lillian’s! It was a revelation she had not been expecting, but yet it explained a lot when she thought how her life had been until Lillian’s death.

  Robert, her loving brother, was only her half brother; her two sisters were now half sisters. Mr. Sherman had expressed his sympathy at revealing the awful truth, but he was only carrying out his duties. They had all left the office dazed and speechless, the family dinner planned for that evening quickly cancelled.