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energy for that now. ‘He looks like Annie,’ was all he said.
    ‘I want to see him.’
    Jack knew that tone of voice. Matt, determined to get his own way. ‘It’s not a good idea. He’s not strong enough yet …’
    ‘All the more reason to see him, then. He’s my brother, and it sounds like he needs us.’
    Matt’s anger sparked Jack’s own temper. ‘You don’t know he’s your brother! That could have been the reason Annie left.’
    He hadn’t meant to say that. Instantly regretted it. He’d never told Matt that Annie had found another man.
    ‘You can’t believe that, Dad! Not Annie! No way!’
    Matt sounded really upset. Jack was botching this badly. ‘I don’t know what to believe. This whole thing has been a nightmare, and I’m shattered. Please – just give me a bit more time to talk to Luke, to see what he wants to do.’
    ‘You’ll be bringing him home, though?’
    Now Matt was suggesting it! And any attempt by Jack to dismiss it as a bad idea could bring Matt over on the next flight. Would Luke want to come back to Baronsmere anyway? Maybe he’d refuse and Jack could offer him start-up money for his move to Wales. Matt could visit him if he wanted. Win-win.
    ‘Okay, Matt, I’ll ask him, but just don’t get your hopes up.’

Chapter Three
    Next morning rain had settled in, and Jack turned on all the lights in his suite to dispel the gloom. He spent an hour answering e-mails. They never stopped, not even for a family crisis. Then he phoned his secretary, saying he’d been detained in Ireland on business and she could leave messages on his mobile.
    ‘And if Sir Nicholas needs to speak to you?’ she’d asked.
    ‘He can’t. Not today, anyway. I’ll be busy.’ That would go down like the Titanic. He’d take the flak for it when he got home; right now he had different priorities.
    After coffee and a Danish, Jack walked the short distance to the hospital. Dublin looked like any other big city with its shops and office buildings, a myriad of umbrellas adding colour to the grey streets. The traffic was bumper to bumper, as bad as Manchester’s. He passed a building and recognised the name of the funeral home where Annie had been taken. He hadn’t been there when they’d transferred her and he tried to ignore the guilt.
    Pushing open the swing doors of the hospital, he was hit by the pungent smell of disinfectant. Why couldn’t they use cleaning stuff that smelled of flowers? Might cheer people up a bit, and God knows everybody in St Aidan’s looked like they needed that.
    When he entered Luke’s room, only a nurse was there, changing the sheets. ‘Where’s Luke? Has something happened?’ Perhaps he’d discharged himself. Problem solved.
    The nurse smiled. ‘He’s taking a walk to the day room to try out his crutches.’
    Jack pushed aside a small kernel of disappointment and asked where he could find the day room.
    Luke was heading slowly down the corridor, a nurse beside him. Jack was reminded of Matt’s halting first steps all those years ago. He’d missed Luke’s first steps. And so many other firsts.
But he’s not my son.
Again, he’d forgotten this. Lulled into acceptance by the desire he and Annie had shared for a child, a desire he could still remember like it was yesterday.
    They reached the day room at the same time and Jack held the door open. Luke glanced at him briefly before being helped into a chair by the nurse.
    ‘Well done, Luke,’ she said. ‘You’re making grand progress. You’ll be dancing again in no time. Just rest here a bit. I’ll get a wheelchair so I can take you for your scan.’ She bustled out, leaving father and son alone, silent like strangers in a waiting room.
    Jack sat in the chair next to Luke, staring at the wall as he spoke. ‘Scan?’
    ‘To check my head.’
    A response at least. And bordering on polite. ‘How are the crutches?’
    ‘Okay. Not easy with the ribs, but at least I’ll be able to get out of here soon.’
    Another