Happy Ever After

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Or if you prefer we can meander over to the marina and eat in Da Bruno,’ said Juliet.

  ‘Incarna’s supper sounds lovely,’ Connie interjected. ‘Honestly, I couldn’t eat a big dinner. That lunch in Marbella was gorgeous. And, besides, my feet are killing me, I could just about meander into the pool. Thank you, Juliet, for such a lovely day.’

  ‘Oh no, girls! Thank you!’ Juliet exclaimed. ‘I haven’t had as much fun in such a long time. I feel soooo relaxed. Now let’s go and swim,’ she urged, ‘because it’s a hot, hot afternoon.’

  Half an hour later, the trio lay on plump cushions, sipping the cold refreshing Pimm’s that Juliet had made for them. Their swim had cooled them down, and they were in a state of contented lethargy. The sun glistened silver on the pool, and the honeysuckle, mimosa and bougainvillea wafted their perfumed scents through the lush gardens that surrounded Juliet’s low, sprawling, whitewashed villa. High walls and gates ensured total privacy. They could hear the soothing, shushy sound of the sea lapping the shore at the end of the winding narrow road where the villa was built.

  They had spent the morning in the big shopping centre, La Cañada, just on the edge of Marbella, and had then gone to lunch in Orange Square before taking a stroll along the Paseo. They’d indulged in more shopping and window-shopping in the chic designer stores that lined the sun-drenched streets in the once-exclusive and fashionable resort. No longer the domain of the elite, Marbella still exuded an air of flashy affluence and style. But, as they circled the roundabout to exit the town on their way home, the tackiness of the other side of the coin was there to see. An open-topped car in front of them stopped, in it two middle-aged, olive-skinned, seedy-looking men with their hair slicked back. The driver beckoned to a voluptuous young blonde posing on the side of the road. After a quick word, she’d quickly got into the back of the car.

  ‘God, it’s so blatant, isn’t it?’ observed Juliet.

  ‘I’d be petrified. Isn’t she worried going with those two men, two complete and utter strangers?’ Connie remarked, feeling utterly sorry for any girl who made her living from prostitution.

  ‘I wonder is that her pimp? He was talking to her before she got into the car.’ Karen pointed out a skinny, curly-haired man with designer shades who was speaking to an exotic-looking dark girl with fantastically braided hair. She handed him some money and palmed a small packet he exchanged with her. He was obviously dealing drugs, in broad daylight at the side of a busy roundabout, and didn’t seem at all concerned that he might be caught.

  ‘We don’t know the half of what goes on, we’re so cocooned in our own smug little worlds,’ Juliet said as she swung off the roundabout on to the motorway. ‘It’s a far different world our children and grandchildren are living in to what we were used to. I was just looking at my grandchildren on the night of my art exhibition, and they are so advanced for their age. I look at Melissa, and she’s dressed like an eighteen-year-old, and with all the jargon, and she’s only a child still. They have to grow up so quickly, don’t they? Their childhood is so short now. Those magazines have so much to answer for. And clothes designers. They sexualize kids.’

  ‘I know, it’s an awful shame,’ Connie agreed. ‘Because behind that totally with-it, cool façade, Melissa’s still a child at heart. There’s an innocence about her that hasn’t been compromised yet. Some of those teenagers are living the lives of twenty-five-year-olds. Kids having sex at twelve and thirteen is scary. I would have had a fit if I thought Debbie was having sex when she was in her teens.’

  ‘I mean, look at us. I was in my early twenties before I lost my virginity, and it was a big deal. Now, it’s nothing special,’ Karen remarked.

  ‘I was a virgin when I married Ken and, girls, I have to say, I’ve never had an orgasm with him – how sad is that?’ Juliet confessed.

  ‘That’s awful. That’s a bad buzz, as Melissa would say,’ Connie sympathized.

  ‘But, God, I should have got an Oscar for faking. He thinks he’s a stud. If only he knew. I’m lying there thinking, Oh, get it over with, for heaven’s sake, and he thinks he’s George Clooney.’ She chortled, and they all started to laugh, having all faked it at some stage in their lives.

  ‘Wouldn’t fancy George Clooney,’ Connie grinned. ‘He believes his own publicity. He seems completely shallow. All his girlfriends probably have to fake too, to protect his ego.’

  ‘Bet I wouldn’t have to fake with Harrison Ford,’ Karen said wistfully, as they whizzed past the high towerblock of the Don Carlos.

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘Or me.’

  Juliet smiled, remembering their conversation. They’d had a great laugh on the short journey back to the villa, and Juliet couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so free.

  The early evening sun was much less intense now, and she could hear Karen snoring on her lounger. She felt utterly peaceful. She had clicked so well with the two other women. She felt very comfortable in their company. They’d had a thoroughly enjoyable day, and she very much hoped that when she went back to Dublin they could continue to meet occasionally for a meal or an evening out.

  Although he had phoned the landline several times, she had not spoken to Ken since she’d left Dublin. She felt insulated from him in Spain, and it was a very restful feeling. She wondered lazily how he was managing, but then he drifted from her thoughts and she fell into a doze, imagining Harrison Ford rescuing her from danger and her falling into his arms, kissing him with wanton abandon.

  For the umpteenth time that day, Ken Davenport glanced at his watch on his way to the taxi rank at Malaga airport. It was just coming up to eight, Spanish time. They had been sitting on the tarmac for almost the guts of an hour before the plane had been given clearance to take off, and he was in a very bad mood indeed, despite the fact that the pilot had assured them, as they flew out over the sparkling Mediterranean to line up for landing, that they had made up some of the lost time with the help of tailwinds. His bad humour had not abated one bit when he was hit by a scorching blast of heat as he left the confines of the air-conditioned terminal building and saw the queue in front of him waiting for taxis. By God, he swore to himself as he waited impatiently in line, Juliet Davenport would feel the rough edge of his tongue before this day was out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘That was delicious, Juliet. Thank Incarna for us.’ Connie popped a last, luscious strawberry into her mouth and savoured its sweet, juicy taste.

  ‘The tuna was melt-in-the-mouth,’ Karen declared. ‘And that gorgeous salad with the pine nuts . . . they’re so flavoursome. Make the most of this, Connie. Got a text from Jenna – they’re having thunder and lightning at home.’

  ‘The poor suckers.’ Connie grinned. ‘Here, let me bring these in, Juliet.’ She gathered up the plates and went to carry them in.

  ‘Leave them, Connie. It won’t take me a minute to do them. Have another glass of wine.’ Juliet topped her up. ‘Karen, more Amé? Pity you’re driving.’

  ‘Just as well I’m driving – I’m turning into a lush. I haven’t drunk so much in years,’ Karen retorted.

  ‘Me, too, but I’ll go on the dry when I go home. Will you stay for the rest of the summer, Juliet?’ Connie took a sip of her wine and sat back, totally relaxed.

  ‘I haven’t decided. But it’s an enticing prospect. I’m only beginning to realize just how restricting and stressful it’s been living with Ken. I mean, I do everything on the home front. My life has been spent accommodating him. Here, I’m doing what I want, when I want, with no irate phone calls looking for this, that and the other.’

  ‘Would you ever consider living here?’ Connie inquired.

  ‘I’d certainly consider spending a lot more time here. It’s lovely in the autumn.’ Juliet nibbled on a piece of Turkish delight. ‘Wait until I tell Ken I’m going to be out here a lot more. He’ll go round nuts. I might wind him up and tell him I’ve been sunbathing on the nudist beach across the dunes. Cabopino has a note
d nudist beach – you know?’ Juliet smirked, eyes bright from a combination of alcohol and good humour. The air of guarded reserve and tension that she often carried had dissipated completely, the stress lines in her face had softened and her natural joie de vivre, which had been buried for so long, was beginning to re-emerge.

  ‘We should go there one of the days and give them an eyeful,’ Connie suggested giddily. ‘We could get an all-over tan. No strap-marks!’

  ‘Get an eyeful, more like it.’ Karen made a face. ‘Aren’t men afraid their wobbly bits will get sunburnt?’

  ‘Ken wouldn’t have much to worry about in that area – you’d need a microscope to find them,’ Juliet said tipsily. ‘It’s so liberating releasing the inner bitch, I should have done it years ago.’

  The others guffawed heartily, and Juliet joined in, feeling happy and carefree.

  ‘And what’s the joke? It’s nice to see you ladies enjoying yourselves.’ The subject of their hilarity strode on to the terrace, grim-faced as he stared at his wife.

  ‘Ken! Ah no, Ken! It’s not fair; I came away to get some peace and quiet. To think. Could you not have respected me that much and let me have what I needed for once in my life?’ Juliet stood up. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded angrily. The colour had faded from her face. She gripped the wrought-iron back of her chair tightly for support.

  ‘Don’t take that tone with me, Juliet. It’s rude in front of your guests. We’ll discuss it inside,’ he said dismissively. ‘Hello, Karen and er . . . um . . . Carrie, isn’t it?’ He barely acknowledged them as he stood eyeballing Juliet.

  ‘It’s Connie,’ Connie responded coldly. He ignored her. She remembered the first time they’d been introduced. Barry had told his father-in-law that Connie was a nurse. Ken had looked her up and down, asked her a few perfunctory questions about where she worked, and couldn’t get away quick enough. A mere nurse was not worth more than a few minutes of his precious time. For the short while he’d been talking to her, his eyes had been scanning the room to find someone more worthy of his attention. On the few other occasions she’d encountered him, he’d merely nodded self-importantly at her, and she had made no effort to initiate conversation.

  ‘Would you ladies mind excusing my wife for a while? I need to talk to her. Juliet, I’ll be inside.’ Ken turned on his heel and marched back into the villa.

  ‘I’m so sorry about this.’ Juliet was crimson with humiliation. ‘I can’t believe he’s flown over here. He’s so disrespectful of me; he just keeps right on ignoring my wishes. He’s getting worse as he gets older. This is intolerable.’ She was shaking, dazed with disbelief.

  ‘We’d better go,’ Karen murmured.

  ‘Will you be all right? Can you deal with him?’ Connie asked sympathetically, noting Juliet’s distress. ‘Would you like us to wait in the car up the road, in case you need us? Just so you have an option? You can’t drive after the wine we’ve drunk.’

  ‘Would you?’ Juliet said eagerly. ‘That’s extremely kind. I don’t think I could bear to stay in the same house as him tonight. Would it be very pushy of me to ask could I sleep on your sofa? Or you could drop me at the Don Carlos and I could get a room. I’m disgusted that he’d fly over here and treat me like a naughty schoolgirl. I’m sixty-four years of age, the mother of his children. I deserve respect.’ Her face crumpled.

  ‘You will not get a room in a hotel, Juliet. Of course you can sleep at our place. Open the gates for us, and we’ll drive out, and we’ll be waiting for you across the road. Don’t let him see you crying if you can manage it,’ Karen urged, handing the other woman a tissue.

  ‘He’s afraid, Juliet. Afraid and seriously rattled. That’s what’s wrong with him, and he’s covering it up with bluster. He needs you much more than you need him, don’t forget that,’ Connie pointed out astutely. ‘Think of wobbly bits and microscopes when he’s ranting and raving,’ she advised.

  Juliet gave a watery smile and straightened up. ‘Right. Thanks very much, girls. I’m glad you’re here. God must have been looking after me the day I got on the plane to Spain.’

  ‘You go, girl, make mincemeat of him.’ Karen patted her arm. ‘Remember we’re outside waiting for you.’

  They collected their bits and pieces and walked over to Karen’s rented Focus. ‘We’ll be waiting, take no crap.’ Connie gave Juliet a hug.

  ‘Tell him to bugger off home, we’ve been invited to a party at the nudist beach.’ Karen winked as she got into the car, and Juliet laughed.

  Taking a deep breath, by now thoroughly sober, she squared her shoulders and walked back towards the villa, trying hard to compose herself. She was stunned at her husband’s arrival. She hadn’t even been gone more than a few days. Did he think he owned her, she wondered agitatedly as she poured some water into a glass from a carafe. She looked at the half-full wine glasses and the detritus of their meal as she took a sip of water to take the dryness out of her mouth. In the blink of an eye, her relaxed, fun-filled break had turned into a disaster, thanks to Ken. Juliet felt a deep, burning anger. This was a turning point for her, she knew. If she let her husband get away with his obnoxious behaviour, she was finished. Her brief rebellion would be crushed as thoroughly as her spirit.

  Ken was pacing the kitchen when she walked in. ‘I want to talk—’

  ‘Excuse me, I want to let my friends out,’ she snapped icily, pressing the buzzer on the intercom to open the gates. She turned and stared at him. ‘How dare you embarrass me in front of them? How dare you march in here and order me about? How dare you follow me over from Ireland when I specifically told you I wanted time to think about—’

  ‘Enough!’ roared Ken. ‘It’s how dare you treat me like this. Do you realize that I’ve had to cancel two clinics and get Lorcan Carleton to look after my post-op patients for two days so that I could stand in queues and sit on a plane for an hour on the tarmac to get here to find out what the hell is wrong with you?’ His pale-blue eyes were glittering, his face ruddy with barely suppressed rage. He stood towering over her, his hands clenched by his sides, fury and exasperation emanating from every pore.

  ‘Might I remind you who pays for you to sit entertaining your girlfriends beside your swimming pool, drinking wine? Might I remind you who pays for your air fares, your expensive clothes and shoes, your hair-dos, your car, your big house, your housekeeper here and in Dublin? And all I want in return is some respect, and consideration. And that means a wife who will look after my needs—’

  ‘I want a divorce,’ Juliet said coldly. ‘I don’t care what you want or do not want, Ken. I want a divorce. I’m the one who’s had enough.’

  ‘What! Are you on some sort of drugs? What the blazes has got into you? Are you crazy?’ Ken couldn’t believe his ears. He had removed his jacket before she came in, and she could see two big perspiration patches staining the material under the arms of his shirt. She wouldn’t be washing that shirt, she thought in a surreal moment as she listened to him seethe.

  ‘You’re giving up everything you’ve got, at close enough to seventy years of age, because you’re in some sort of strop with me. Are you insane, Juliet?’ he demanded.

  ‘I’ve never been more sane in my life. And I’m in my early sixties, not my seventies, you fool. And it wouldn’t matter what age I was. I’ve had enough of your arrogance, your bad manners, your temper tantrums, your bullying. You know, Ken, when I married you, I married my father. He was exactly the same as you. It’s taken me a long time to see that. Too long. And what you did to me, you did to Aimee, too. She was always telling me to stand up for myself, but I was always making allowances for you, because of the work you do – complicated heart surgery, saving people’s lives. The pressure had to get out somewhere. So I gave you a safe place to let off steam. What a foolish woman I was to let you get away with such appalling behaviour. I enabled . . . isn’t that what they call it? . . . Enabling . . . ? Well, I enabled you to be a . . . a . . . boor! But thank God I’ve found some
small sliver of backbone, even if it’s this late in life. It’s a dreadful thing to be spineless, Ken. Even worse than being married to a Neanderthal.’ She could see her husband staring at her in bewildered perplexity. Even she was impressed with what had come pouring out of her.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Why are you behaving like this? You’re not yourself.’ Ken couldn’t hide his disbelief.

  ‘For the first time in a long, long time, I’m very much myself, Ken. That’s the tragedy of it, that it’s taken me so long to come to my senses. That it’s taken so long for me to have some self-respect. I want a divorce,’ Juliet reiterated. ‘I’ll be on to a solicitor first thing in the morning,’ she added, in a precise, clipped tone which momentarily left him speechless, and she turned and walked away from him.

  ‘And where,’ he asked nastily, ‘will you be getting the money to pay for this divorce?’

  ‘You’ll be paying for it through the nose,’ she retorted over her shoulder, and marched out of the kitchen, feeling in control of her destiny for the first time in years. She hurried up to her bedroom, slipped a dress over her swimsuit, grabbed some fresh underwear and a nightie, got her toothbrush from the ensuite and packed everything into her tote bag, along with her hair brush and makeup.

  She heard Ken thunder up the stairs a minute later, and then he barged into the room. ‘Now listen here, Juliet,’ he began, and saw the bag on the bed. ‘Where do you think you’re—’

  ‘I’m going to a party on the nudist beach, if you must know,’ she interrupted curtly. ‘I’m having fun in my life, Ken. FUN! FUN! FUN!’ She stepped into a pair of espadrilles, sprayed some perfume on to her wrists and took the bag off the bed. ‘Excuse me,’ she said as he stood blocking the doorway.

  ‘You are not going anywhere until we’ve discussed—’

  ‘Excuse me now!’ She gave him a withering look.

  Ken stared at her dumbfounded, astonished at the authority in her voice. He stepped aside.