The Wrong Man, page 1
The Wrong Man
From Connemara With Love
Book 5
A. S. Kelly
Contents
Also By A. S. Kelly
1. Silas
2. Silas
3. Silas
4. Leo
5. Silas
6. Silas
7. Leo
8. Silas
9. Leo
10. Silas
11. Leo
12. Leo
13. Silas
14. Leo
15. Silas
16. Leo
17. Silas
18. Leo
19. Silas
20. Silas
21. Leo
22. Leo
23. Silas
24. Leo
25. Silas
26. Leo
27. Silas
28. Leo
29. Silas
30. Silas
31. Leo
32. Silas
33. Leo
34. Silas
35. Leo
36. Silas
37. Leo
38. Leo
39. Silas
40. Leo
41. Silas
42. Leo
43. Silas
44. Silas
45. Leo
46. Silas
47. Leo
48. Silas
49. Silas
50. Silas
51. Leo
52. Leo
53. Leo
54. Silas
55. Silas
56. Leo
57. Silas
Epilogue
Also By A. S. Kelly
FROM CONNEMARA WITH LOVE
* * *
The Best Man
* * *
The First Man
* * *
The Good Man
* * *
The Only Man
* * *
LOVE AT LAST
* * *
Last Call
* * *
About Last Night
* * *
One Last Kiss
* * *
The Last One
A. S. K E L L Y
* * *
Copyright © 2022 A.S. Kelly
* * *
The Wrong Man
by
A.S. Kelly
* * *
English Edition
Translation by Abigail Prowse
* * *
Literary and artistic property reserved.
All rights reserved.
Unauthorised reproduction prohibited.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and storyline are the fruit of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictional sense. Any similarity to facts, places or people living or deceased is purely coincidental.
* * *
Cover Design: Elle Maxwell Design
* * *
For more information, visit her website:
www.AUTHORASKELLY.com
* * *
Follow her on Twitter @askellywrites
Instagram @askellywrites
Facebook @askellyauthor
One
Silas
I step through the door of Veldons and head over to the bar, sitting Lyla down on its wooden surface and taking a seat myself just as the county’s most beloved barman turns to face me. I feel myself freeze under his glare; the bad-tempered man who’s always pissed off with the world.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Sitting down, for now. I was hoping to eat something, too.”
“I don’t think you get it,” he says, nodding towards the little girl. “What do you think you’re doing with her?”
“I’m guessing she’s also hungry. Right, honey?”
Lyla nods earnestly.
Andy Veldons rests his hands on his hips, his expression threatening. I can tell he’s just waiting for me to make one wrong move so he can kick me out. “A kid in a pub, Kylemore? Seriously?”
“It’s midday. And we’re hungry.”
“And there was nowhere else you could’ve taken her to eat? In your hotel, maybe?”
“We were in town and we thought we’d pay a visit to Uncle Andy. But apparently Uncle Andy doesn’t want us in the way.”
“Don’t say that in front of the kid.”
Andy lays his cloth down on the bar and leans over to Lyla, scooping her up into a hug.
“How is uncle’s little lovebug today?”
There isn’t even a trace of the rude, surly barman from five minutes ago.
“Hungry,” she quickly responds.
“Uncle Andy is on it. Let’s go and see what I’ve got for you in the kitchen.”
I roll my eyes as Andy and Lyla disappear into the back of the pub.
“You could’ve at least asked whether I wanted something to eat, too!” I yell hopelessly at him.
“Whenever she’s around, he has no eyes or ears for anyone else.”
I turn to my right and realise that the next-door stool is occupied. “When did you get here?” I ask Sullivan: one of the pub’s regulars.
“I was already here when you got here, waiting to get served. It’s hard enough already, let alone when uncle’s little love muffin is anywhere nearby.”
“Are you done?” Andy reappears behind the bar with Lyla in his arms, chewing contentedly on a sandwich. “Or you’ll be getting insults for lunch, with a side of kicks up the arse.”
“Wow, someone’s sensitive…” Sullivan hisses into my ear, before Andy’s cloth slaps him around the cheek.
I laugh. Sullivan loves to wind people up – especially when that person is Andy, who’s always quick to lose his patience.
“Make yourself useful,” Andy says, planting Lyla onto the bar in front of Sullivan, “and be a good uncle while I go and take care of your orders.”
“As if I could say no to that… But just out of curiosity, where are this poor creature’s parents?”
“Who knows? They dropped her off with me this morning at eight, mumbling something about builders and dust and noise, and how she needed a quiet, stable environment,” I respond.
“So they left her with you?” Shane Johnston’s voice floats in from the doorway.
He, his brother Reid, and Alex Brennan join us at the bar. All three of them work at the Johnston Distillery, where Alex is the boss. They come to the pub every day for lunch – I think they’ve been doing it for about twenty years.
“All here to piss about?” Andy grumbles as Shane hops behind the bar to give him a kiss.
Shane and Andy are together; Alex is married to Ellie – Shane and Reid’s sister – and is best friend to everyone in the pub, and probably in the whole town.
And what am I doing here? Well, unfortunately, I’m sort of related to Andy, since his brother Brian married my sister Darcy. I’m also sort of related to the Johnstons, as Reid is married to my sister Sloan. I guess we’re all part of some kind of very extended family, although none of us really signed up for it. Especially not me.
“Why is Lyla with you?” Shane asks, wrapping his arms around her in greeting.
I have to admit that Shane Johnston with a kid in his arms is something no one should see; I actually think it should be made illegal in multiple countries. He’s already got something unnaturally attractive and intriguing about him without the kid, but with Lyla, no one could resist him.
No, I don’t have a crush on Shane Johnston. But he’s always nice to look at, I can’t deny that. And I’m not stupid enough to turn the other way.
“I had the day off and someone thought they’d take advantage.”
“You could’ve asked me.”
“You’d have taken her to the distillery?” Reid asks.
“We’re already in a pub – how is that different?” Alex comments.
“How’s the building work going?” Shane turns to me. He’s sitting across from Andy, Lyla still perched on the bar between them.
Sure, because if he’s placed her down on the bar then it’s absolutely fine.
“Slowly. It was all supposed to be done last week but they’re still at mine.”
My sister Darcy and her husband Brian are back in Ireland for the summer. They decided to do up the old Veldons house so that they could spend a few months of the year there – particularly during the holidays. While they’re waiting for the work to be more or less finished, they’ve been staying at mine. Darcy suggested they stay in the hotel, but I didn’t like the idea of Lyla being cooped up in a hotel room. Not that my place is some sort of palace, but at least it has a garden, which Lyla loves, where I’ve built her a little climbing frame with a slide, see-saw, and sand pit that she can play in as long as she likes. I am her uncle, after all, and I already see her so little. When she’s here, I want her to have fun with her family, even if that means I have to put up with her father, Brian Veldons, more than I’d like.
“As if you really minded!” Shane exclaims.
“I’d like to see you try dealing with a Veldons in your space every day,” Reid says, a pint glass appearing in front of him. “Ah, right. You do have one.” He takes a few sips under Andy’s watchful gaze. “You’ve spat in this, haven’t you?”
Andy shrugs indifferently.
“But you poured it before I even said anything.”
“I just knew I’d have to spit in it.”
Everyone laughs, even Lyla, who doesn’t really know what’s going on. Well, everyone except Reid, of course.
&nbs
“Find out what these slackers want, and quickly – that way, we can get rid of them faster.”
“Don’t say that in front of the kid,” Shane says, as Andy takes her from his arms to give her another cuddle.
“What can I get you?” The guy in question – whose name no one ever uses, for some absurd reason – turns to me.
“Turkey sandwich and chips, please.”
I don’t look at him, because I know him well. I know his name, too, even though he seems to want to keep pretending he doesn’t know mine.
He nods and moves onto Sullivan, who orders a chicken burger and roast potatoes; when he walks away, Sullivan turns to me immediately, pint glass in hand. He seems to have decided that I’ll be his dish of the day.
“How long has he worked here?” he asks me, feigning ignorance.
“Who?”
“That guy.”
“I don’t know, I haven’t been taking note.”
“Don’t you know him?”
“Everyone knows everyone around here.”
“Hmm… I thought he was a friend of yours.”
“You thought wrong.”
“Didn’t you go to school together?”
A Coca Cola appears in front of me – which I didn’t order.
“You’re looking after the kid,” Andy explains.
I scoff and take a few sips under Sullivan’s watchful gaze. I can tell he’s ready to fire back up.
“I went to school with lots of people.”
“But I swear I remember the two of you hanging out, back in the day.”
“You remember wrong, Sullivan. Maybe you need to start taking some sort of memory-boosting supplement, because it’s starting to cause you problems.”
“He only came back to town recently. A year ago, I think… Actually, maybe longer.” He considers this. “I think he was the third or fourth guy Andy hired…”
“Why are you so interested in this guy’s life?”
“I’m interested in everyone’s lives.”
“Maybe you should start being a little more interested in your own life.”
“Why would I? Yours are so much more entertaining.”
“No offence, Sullivan, but you’re not really part of my life.”
Sullivan laughs, placing his glass down on the bar and turning his gaze back to the guy.
“Good kids – the Fitzpatricks, I mean. Such a shame, what happened to them.”
I drink my stupid fizzy drink and attempt to swallow down my stupid sadness, which echoes Sullivan’s.
“I saw them together in the shop the other day.”
I shrug, pretending not to care.
“It really took a toll on them.”
I don’t speak and I don’t move anything but my eyes – although that’s a mistake, as they’re following every one of his movements.
“He might need a friend.”
“I’ve already told you: we’re not friends.”
“Maybe you can change that.”
“I don’t think so, Sullivan.” I finish my drink at the exact moment my lunch materialises on the bar in front of me. I nod thanks and silently follow him around with my eyes, my breath, until he disappears into the back room, probably to grab the other plates.
“I see some things haven’t changed much…” Sullivan whispers to me.
I pretend not to hear him, just as I pretend that his words haven’t struck a chord; just as I pretend every day that I don’t remember each moment I’ve spent with the guy who now works at Veldons.
The guy who, once upon a time, was my deepest secret and my most hidden desire.
Two
Silas
Brian and Darcy only get home that afternoon as Lyla is taking her nap.
“Here we are, finally.” My sister immediately goes to check on her daughter, and I gesture for her to be quiet. Lyla is sleeping next to me on the sofa. “All good?” she asks in a whisper.
“All perfect. We went for a walk then had lunch with the usual lot at Veldons.”
“You took a child to the pub?” Brian asks.
Same surname. Same mind. Same ability to piss me off.
“It’s your pub,” I respond to my brother-in-law.
“It’s not mine, it’s my brother’s. But it’s still a pub; it’s not suitable for a little girl.”
“It was midday. Besides, I thought kids were allowed in until the evenings.”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t want her to have anything to do with those four alcoholics who just waste their time at the pub.”
“Those four alcoholics, as you call them, are your family. Or something like that.”
“Exactly.”
I drop the subject – it’s impossible to reason with a Veldons – and turn to my sister. “How is it going, then?”
“Almost done. The fireplace is finished, they’ve tested the electrics, and installed all the double-glazing. It just needs a quick clean-up, and we can finally get out of your hair and give you back your freedom.”
“Oh…” I clear my throat, slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah, sure. Freedom. Thank God.”
I tear my gaze away from them, staring instead at my niece sleeping peacefully beside me. I run my fingers gently through her fine blonde hair – exactly like Darcy’s – before releasing a sigh laden with nostalgia and loneliness.
“We’ll only be a few kilometres away.”
Darcy must have read my mind, or my gestures; nothing gets past her. Ever since she’s had Lyla, she’s had a sixth sense, become hyper-sensitive to other people’s discomfort.
“Are you telling me I’ll never be able to get rid of you? That almost sounds like a threat.”
“As if you really wanted to get rid of us.”
“I would obviously never want to get rid of Lyla, and I suppose I could put up with you, too. I can’t say the same for him,” I say, nodding over at Brian, who’s standing next to the sofa.
“Well, we’ll be out of your way soon enough, don’t worry. The work should’ve been finished two weeks ago, so I’m sorry for the delay – we shouldn’t have outstayed our welcome.”
I get up slowly, trying not to wake the kid. “I’m used to all your chaos, now.” It’s the only thing I can say that seems even half believable.
The truth is that I’m used to their presence, their sounds, having someone to eat dinner with or make coffee for in the morning; not to mention Lyla’s biscuits in the cupboard, her toys on the floor, her cries of joy, her laugh.
I’ve got used to not being alone.
I should’ve reminded myself that this wasn’t forever; that sooner or later the emptiness would come back, quieter and more oppressive than ever.
“Seeing as you’re back, I’m going to head out. I have a few errands to run, and I didn’t want to drag Lyla around with me.”
