He inclines his head, indicating that I might be sorry I asked.
‘When my mother, Eve, was sixteen years old my grandmother wanted her to get in touch with her Irish roots. So, my mother left France and went to live with my aunt in the town of Killarney, County Kerry. She enrolled at St Brendan’s College and, while she missed her mum, suddenly her life got a whole lot more exciting. A year later she met my father, Oliver Traynor. He was four years older than her, although at the time I suspect he had no idea that was the case. They had a very brief affair, from the little I can gather.
‘I have no doubt at all that my mother had fallen madly in love at first sight, but for him it was a transient thing. His future career path came before everything else at that time. When my mother discovered she was pregnant, he didn’t want to know. She ended up quitting college and my aunt had a tough time with her, as she was an emotional wreck. My father made no attempt to contact her at all after hearing the news and when she registered my birth she used her name, Arnoult, and his name didn’t appear on the certificate.
‘Eventually, out of guilt no doubt, he did get in touch and began supporting us both financially. I think he was worried my mother, or my aunt, might make trouble for him and the last thing he needed was the threat of gossip.’
‘How awful for your mother,’ I say, sadly. ‘She was facing an exciting new future, only to end up broken-hearted at such a young age. That’s tragic, as having a baby is a joyous event and a blessing.’
Ronan nods.
‘That’s life. These things happen. She was so young and rather naive. It was an unfortunate twist of fate, because suddenly Mum’s options were limited. My father was promoted around the same time and it was making people sit up and notice him, raising his profile. Whether he realised that money was such an issue for us, I don’t know.
‘My aunt looked after me, as my mother had to work two jobs just to keep a roof over our heads until he finally stepped in to help out. She never got over my father’s rejection and she’s a proud woman, so when he did offer to help it would have hurt her to accept it. In the small community in which we lived no one was aware of our link to him and she wanted to keep it that way.’
‘But you don’t use your mother’s maiden name any longer?’ Now I’m really confused.
He gives a little smirk. ‘Hell hath no fury… as the saying goes. When I was old enough for my mother to sit me down and tell me the whole story, she talked a lot about Ireland. Grandma Colleen was very proud of her Irish roots. Sadly, after numerous miscarriages my mother was her only surviving child. Grandma herself was one of five girls and although there were five cousins, only one was a boy. Tragically, he died at the age of six after falling out of a tree. There was no one to carry on the O’Byrne name. Now, my grandfather had two brothers, one of whom had two sons, so the Arnoult line continues to thrive. I’m sure my mother was only trying to honour my grandmother, but the sting in the tail in asking me to change my surname by deed poll was that she knew it would be another slap in the face for my father. He hated the fact that I had never carried his name and this sent a clear message that I never would. I was old enough by then to appreciate that fact, and I suppose I, too, was exacting a little revenge for the way he rejected her… well, us.’
My jaw drops slightly. That’s quite an admission and yet it demonstrates very clearly how close Ronan, his mother and his grandmother were. I supposed that was only natural, given what they had been through.
‘I was a young teen at the time, and I told you it was a long story. Inevitably, the day came when he made contact with me. My father said he regretted some of the decisions he’d made in his younger years and offered me a job. He’s a very persuasive man in many ways and I thought he was genuinely reaching out to me. This was my chance to get to know him, as well as an opportunity to hone my skills. I wouldn’t simply be learning something from him, but my ego kicked in and I wanted to impress him, I suppose. So, I went for it. And that’s when the real horror story began. He has a ruthless streak when it comes to business and he’s a bully if people don’t simply jump to attention and do his bidding.’
I take in a deep breath. ‘How did your mother take the news?’
‘She was torn, I think. I was fresh from university and the job market was saturated at the time, so we both knew it was an offer anyone would have jumped at. She might not have wished him well, exactly, but she has always put my interests first. Like it or not, he’s my biological father and Mum hoped his intentions were good. This was his chance to make amends, if you like.’
‘After having had virtually no involvement in your life, I presume his family understood his sudden desire to get to know you?’
‘I really don’t know. I didn’t have much to do with them, and his wife made it clear she had no intention of recognising me formally as a part of the family. I had my own place and I was happy enough once I’d settled in and made friends.
‘His girls, my half-sisters, are a few years younger than me; one was hoping to become a fashion designer with the help of our father’s cheque book and the other one was off backpacking around the world with her adventurer boyfriend. At the time my father was very annoyed to have funded her trip to Australia, in what was supposed to have been her gap year before going to university. He hasn’t seen much of her since, I gather.’
Ronan is very matter-of-fact about it all, but it sounds like a war zone to me. No wonder he turned his back on them, just to get a little peace.
‘Well, that’s karma for you,’ I remark.
‘My thoughts, exactly. It’s just easier for me being here now, as I don’t get pulled into any of it any more. My mother is finally making a life for herself and learning to let go of the past. Living with resentment constantly welling up inside you isn’t good for anyone and it nearly destroyed her for a while. My father has no need to contact her and now she knows I’m happily settled, she can at last relax. That’s not to say she doesn’t phone me all the time to chide me about being more focused, but she knows I’m content.’
It must be difficult to share such a harrowing life story, and I’m glad Ronan seems happy to put his trust in me.
‘Right. That’s enough about that. Did you drive or walk? I have the car and can give you a lift back, if you like.’
‘Thank you. I wasn’t relishing the idea of the walk.’
Pulling into the entrance in front of the gates, Ronan insists on driving in, parking up while I search around in my backpack for the key. When he follows me out of the car and walks round to the front door of number six, I wonder if he wants to come in for coffee. He hesitates for a moment before stooping to kiss my cheek, and then turns to kiss the other. His body language indicates that he was considering kissing me on the lips and as he turns to walk away from me, I catch his hand.
Ronan turns round and I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder.
‘What’s wrong?’ he murmurs into my ear.
My arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders and I give him a gentle squeeze.
‘You’re a good man, Ronan, and I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I just felt you needed… a hug.’
He laughs softly, leaning back a little to place his hand under my chin. Tilting my head, he gazes into my eyes. His smile is warm and tender.