Happy Ever After

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Happy Ever After Page 35

by Patricia Scanlan


  Judith took a few deep breaths. This was the start of her second chance: she would not ruin it by negative thinking, she told herself sternly, putting Debbie’s thank-you card in her handbag. She stood up, wandered over to the mirror at the small sink, and retouched her lipstick. Her hair was streaked with grey and badly needed a cut and colour; she had it coiled up on her head, and she couldn’t wait to make an appointment with her hairdresser. Her cheeks were pale and sunken, but a few days of sunshine and fresh air would sort that, she assured herself, noting how loose her trousers were. This small room had been her haven from the world, but it was time to go and pick up the reins of her life again. Soon, Jillian and her mother would come to collect her. She would do her very best to put on a brave face and try not to let them see how apprehensive she was, Judith promised herself, blotting her lipstick with a tissue.

  ‘I’ll wait here until you come back. I’m sure Judith would much prefer to have Jillian collect her than me. I brought some cream cakes to welcome her home.’ Tom plonked a square white box on the kitchen table.

  ‘I don’t know what time we’ll get home at,’ Lily said, quite vexed, but trying hard not to show it. Tom had arrived minutes ago, offering to collect Judith when he knew very well that Jillian was doing the honours. She couldn’t very well throw him out of the house, Lily thought crossly.

  ‘The place looks great. How are you, Jillian? Long time no see,’ he said chattily, sitting down at the table.

  ‘I’m fine, Tom,’ Jillian said politely.

  ‘And you like living in culchie land?’ He chuckled at his little joke.

  ‘Love it,’ she said evenly.

  ‘Just excuse me a moment if you don’t mind,’ Lily said. ‘I want to get my jacket and a clean handkerchief.’

  Tom threw his eyes up to heaven when she left the kitchen. ‘Still uses handkerchiefs, wouldn’t use a tissue to save her life.’

  ‘A lot of old people do. My mother does, and they’re always scented with lavender.’ Jillian wanted to say ‘you pillock’, but she refrained, admirably.

  ‘So Judith’s going to stay with you for a while?’ Tom changed the subject.

  ‘I hope so,’ Jillian agreed.

  ‘Umm . . . I’ll have to keep an eye on Ma then, she’s come to depend on me a lot. I got the place painted for her,’ he boasted. ‘Have to keep it in good nick; we don’t want it falling around her ears. And it needs to be well kept when the time comes to sell it.’ He looked at Jillian over the rim of his bifocals, reminding her of Alex Ferguson, as he chewed gum relentlessly, his jaws working like pistons.

  ‘Are we ready, dear?’ Lily appeared at the door, looking serene.

  ‘We are if you are.’ Jillian smiled at her.

  ‘Tom, put those cakes in the fridge, and make yourself a cup of tea if you wish, and be sure to wash your cup. I want the place to be ship shape when Judith comes home,’ Lily instructed.

  Tom stopped chewing. ‘OK, Ma,’ he said slowly. ‘If you want to give me a ring when you’re at Griffith Avenue, I’ll make a pot of tea,’ he offered.

  ‘Oh, it’s not tea we’ll be drinking,’ Lily said gaily as she followed Jillian out the door.

  What on earth did his ma mean by that? Tom resumed chewing as he heard the front door close. He made his way into Lily’s sitting room to watch their departure, noting how attentive and kind Jillian was, holding the car door open for his mother and helping her to adjust her seatbelt. He had made his offer to collect Judith knowing full well that Jillian was going to do it, and in the certain knowledge that it would be refused. No sooner had the car disappeared out of sight than he hurried back to the kitchen to shove the cakes in the fridge. It was immaculate, and smelt clean, he noted, not like their fridge freezer at home, which was always sticky and grimy with mouldy cheeses and out-of-date ham turning green and curling up at the edges.

  What was Lily doing with a bottle of Moët in the fridge? Jillian must have bought it, he surmised, noting the green bottle lying on its side. He slammed the door shut and raced up the stairs two at a time, finally getting the chance he’d been looking for. He couldn’t believe his luck. After all his scheming to get a key, and having to pay to have the bedrooms painted, to no avail, today, his mother had just left him alone, without a thought, to poke around to his heart’s content. How strange life was, he reflected as, a touch breathless, he reached the top of the stairs.

  Lily’s bedroom door was half open. He couldn’t believe it. He hurried into the room, sniffing the faint scent of powder and lily-of-the-valley perfume. He stood and took a deep breath. Four big drawers in the chest. Two dressing-table drawers, a bedside locker and her wardrobe. Lily’s papers could be anywhere, even stuffed in old handbags on top of the wardrobe. He must make sure to put everything back exactly as he found it so as not to raise his mother’s suspicions. When he’d found what he was looking for he’d have a rummage through Judith’s stuff. Might as well see what little secrets she had stashed away while he was at it. Brimming with anticipation, Tom set to his task.

  ‘Have you to get shopping?’ Judith asked as Jillian parked the car on double yellows outside a small group of shops and offices not far from home.

  ‘Just get out, Judith, and open the door for me like a good girl,’ Lily ordered crisply from the back seat. She’d insisted that Judith sit in the front seat with her friend on the journey home.

  ‘OK. Where are you going?’ Judith extracted herself from her seatbelt and opened the front door.

  ‘We are going into Mr Martin, Judith. He has everything ready for us to sign on the dotted line. It won’t take five minutes, he said. Jillian’s very kindly offered to wait. She knows all about it – we planned it when we knew you were getting out.’ Lily was so excited her eyes were dancing.

  Judith burst into tears, remembering her unworthy thoughts in the hospital.

  ‘Now, don’t cry, for goodness’ sake,’ her mother protested in dismay.

  ‘Get in there, Judith, and do what your mother tells you,’ Jillian said sternly. ‘And hurry up, here’s a warden. I’ll do a circuit.’

  ‘Ma, are you sure? I don’t expect you to do this,’ Judith said earnestly as she limped slowly alongside her mother to a dark-red door with several gold plates on the side of it.

  ‘I know you don’t. But the sooner we do it the better. Your brother’s at home waiting for our return and no doubt having a grand old root around – but he can root all he wants, because I have everything he’ll be interested in in my handbag, and I’ve locked your door. So he’s wasting his time and, by the time we get home, you’ll be on the deeds, and there won’t be a thing he can do about it.’ Lily smiled smugly. She was getting just as good as Mrs Meadows for asserting herself, she decided, peering for the buzzer and pressing it confidently, unaware that her daughter was looking at her almost in awe.

  The ould bitch had locked Judith’s room. She must have known he’d go prying. There was nothing of any interest in her own room, although he’d gone through it meticulously. He wasn’t staying here to have tea and cakes and listen to women yattering; he had plenty of other things to be doing, Tom decided, bitterly disappointed and thoroughly disgruntled.

  ‘Have to go, got a call from work,’ he scrawled on the back of a flyer he found on the mantelpiece. Lily and Judith were in cahoots, it was clear, and the pair of witches was keeping him in the dark. And they’d had their bedrooms painted for free, paid for with his hard-earned money. It was the last penny of his either of them would ever see, Tom swore, as he let himself out, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘I never drank real champagne before,’ Lily confided as she held out her glass for a top-up. ‘Well, we had Babycham at your father’s and my wedding, but that’s not real champagne like this. I thought it would be a great treat for us and something to make this a special oosasio— ossio— occasion.’ She gave a tipsy little giggle, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright and giddy.

  ‘Drink up there, Mrs Baxter,’ Jillian grinned, fill
ing up her glass. ‘And you, too, Judith.’

  ‘To Judith. A dear daughter and now a woman of property.’ Lily raised her glass a little unsteadily before taking a gulp, laughing when the fizz tickled her nose.

  ‘To you, Mother, for your kindness and bravery. I’m so grateful to you and so proud of you – well done.’ Judith clinked her glass with Lily’s, almost overwhelmed.

  ‘And to a very special occasion,’ Jillian toasted, as mother and daughter embraced affectionately, faces wreathed in smiles.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Melissa crushed half a Weetabix into a dish and poured just enough milk to dampen it. She was going to visit the stables with Connie in the afternoon, and she didn’t want to feel faint. She’d have the other half with an apple for her lunch before she got the Dart to Greystones. Her mom was in the dining room working on her laptop and making calls, and Melissa knew better than to disturb her. She strolled out on to the balcony and sat at the wrought-iron table, eating very slowly. She was starving. Once she’d found out they were going on holiday, she’d cut back big time so she wouldn’t look like an elephant in her bathing togs.

  She was worried, though: it seemed her parents had copped that she was dieting. In the last few days, Barry had been cooking dinners and insisting that she eat with them and, once, when she’d left the table immediately after the meal to go and throw up, she’d found him waiting outside the door for her.

  ‘Are you ill, Muffin? Did I hear you getting sick?’ he’d asked, even though she’d done it as quietly as she possibly could.

  ‘No, Dad, I’m fine, I was just clearing my throat,’ she fibbed, hoping that he believed her. She sighed as she ate another little spoonful. She’d leave her dirty dish in the sink so that her mom could see that she’d eaten breakfast. The other half of the Weetabix was wrapped up in clingfilm in her handbag.

  In two days’ time she’d be in Disneyworld, and then Paris, and then the south of France. They were staying in a posh hotel very near where Johnny Depp and Bono had villas. Bono had had Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie to visit; she’d read it in a magazine. Imagine if she saw any of them – she could take a photo on her phone. How cool would that be to show off when she went back to school in September? It was such a relief they were going abroad; she wouldn’t feel out of place when the other girls in the class were talking about their trips. Sarah was very worried; she was only going to visit her cousins in Cork. Her mother had had to stop working to take care of her grandmother, who was ill, and they weren’t even going to get to Spain for a week.

  ‘Hi, darling, are you eating breakfast? What are you having?’ Aimee interrupted her daydream and came and sat beside her at the table.

  ‘Weetabix.’ Melissa showed her the empty bowl with the damp bits clinging to the side.

  ‘Darling, I just want to say, it’s all very well keeping fit and losing weight, but don’t lose too much. It’s not good for you, and I need you to be on top form to help me when the baby comes.’ Aimee reached across and squeezed her hand.

  Her mother looked tired. She had circles under her eyes, and she was quite pale. It was so strange to have her at home all day, even though she spent most of it working. Melissa and Sarah felt constrained by her presence; usually, they had their music on fairly loud, or played Wii tennis, yelling at each other when they got a point. Aimee always wanted to know where they were going and who they were seeing and, after the heady days of freedom earlier in the holidays, it was like a bucket of cold water dousing them having her mother there 24/7.

  ‘Are you looking forward to the holiday?’ Aimee asked, raising her face to the sun’s welcome rays.

  ‘Yeah – it’s a huge surprise. I wasn’t expecting it,’ Melissa said.

  ‘Me neither. I thought it would be your mid-term in October before we got away. Having the time off before I start my new job is a real bonus.’

  ‘And it’s great Dad’s coming too,’ Melissa slipped in, watching her mother’s reaction.

  ‘Wonderful,’ Aimee agreed heartily. Was she a bit too hearty, Melissa worried. ‘It’s going to be lovely to relax as a family. We should make the most of it.’

  ‘Are you really glad Dad’s coming? I heard you having a row,’ she blurted.

  Aimee looked startled and a little embarrassed. ‘Oh, darling, every couple has rows, and we’re no different. Forget about it. Dad and I have,’ she said dismissively, waving her hand as if to brush away an unwelcome topic.

  ‘Really?’ Melissa persisted.

  ‘Yes, really.’ Aimee grimaced.

  ‘Mom, will you be bringing your BlackBerry?’ Melissa fiddled with her spoon.

  ‘I have to, darling. There’s a lot going on for me just now, setting up this new company, but I’ll only check it every so often. I promise.’

  ‘Umm,’ Melissa murmured. She’d heard that one before.

  ‘Honestly,’ her mother assured her. ‘Now, what do you think? I’m getting a new company car—’

  ‘Oh, can you get a Merc or BMW sportscar?’ Melissa was thrilled.

  Aimee made a face. ‘A sportscar is much too girly for the image I’ve to portray, far too frivolous and silly and, besides, what use is it in the appalling weather we’ve had? How often do you get to put the roof down?’

  ‘Well, a big Merc or BMW then,’ Melissa said, disappointed.

  Aimee shook her head. ‘Darling, every Tom, Dick and Harry has a Merc or a BMW nowadays. I was thinking of getting a top-of-the-range Lexus actually.’

  ‘Boring.’ Melissa made a face.

  ‘No, darling, a Lexus makes a very subtle statement. It oozes class. It’s not a car for airheads, if you know what I mean. A woman driving a top-class Lexus is at the top of her game and not to be trifled with, and that’s the image I want to portray in my new job.’

  ‘I love Debbie’s soft-top,’ Melissa said wistfully. ‘Except they can’t afford it any more, and they’re going to get something smaller.’

  ‘Really?’ said Aimee, not in the slightest bit interested in whether Debbie and her husband could afford their soft-top. ‘Well, darling, that’s tough, but my new job pays very, very well, and we are going on a serious spending spree in Paris, you and me.’ Aimee smiled at her and got up from the table.

  ‘Deadly.’ Melissa grinned. ‘Hey, Mom – you know the way I’m going to visit the stables with Connie to see Frisky today?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could I get a horse some day?’

  ‘I’ll talk to Dad about it,’ Aimee said slowly, thinking if they got their daughter a horse it might take her mind off dieting and give her something else to think about. It would also be good to drop it into conversation. My daughter’s crazy about her horse, she’s never at home . . . It would be a fine social investment as well as an interest for Melissa. ‘It might be good for you to have a horse; you’d get plenty of fresh air,’ she added.

  ‘Oh cool, Mom, cool. Only three girls in the class have their own horses.’ She jumped up and hugged Aimee excitedly.

  Aimee hugged her back. ‘You need to be fit and healthy to ride horses, so maybe have some brown bread or toast with your Weetabix every morning,’ she suggested.

  ‘I am fit and healthy, Mom.’ Melissa’s eyes slid away from her mother’s gaze.

  ‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ Aimee said. Her phone rang, and it was with the greatest relief that Melissa watched her go to answer it. She just hoped that her mom and dad would get off her back about food. If they didn’t, it would take all the fun out of going on holidays and getting a horse. It would give her something else to worry about, and she didn’t need that.

  ‘There’s only one Weetabix gone out of the box; I counted them last night.’ Aimee kept her voice low so that Melissa wouldn’t overhear her phone call.

  ‘And she’s definitely making herself sick. When we come back from France we’ll bring her to the doctor. Might as well let her have a bit of fun first. I’ve been reading the literature Connie emailed over. Scary stuff, but
she’s given us names and contact numbers so we can decide what’s the best route to go when we’ve spoken to the doctor,’ Barry said wearily. ‘Do you want to ask your dad for advice? Maybe he could get her seen to quickly?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Aimee retorted vehemently. ‘I don’t want him to know anything about it. He’d think that it was a terrible weakness of character, and I won’t have him looking down his nose at her. It’s bad enough that he looks down his nose at me.’

  ‘He wouldn’t be like that surely,’ Barry protested.

  ‘I’m not giving him the chance.’

  ‘OK then. It was just a thought.’

  ‘She asked me about getting a horse. She’s going to some stables with Saint Connie to see a foal today.’ Aimee studied her reflection in the dining-room mirror and noted that she could do with a Botox treatment. She wouldn’t be able to have that while she was pregnant. She’d have a forehead like a walnut shell by the time she had the baby, she thought dolefully.

  ‘Don’t call Connie that,’ Barry said irritably. ‘She’s been very good to Melissa.’

  ‘Umm . . . Well, anyway, I told Melissa I’d talk to you about it, and I told her that she’d have to be fit and healthy to be riding horses.’

  ‘Good thinking. I’d buy her a stableful of horses if it would sort her out,’ Barry said morosely.

  ’I know. Anyway, I have to go, I’ve another call on the line,’ she fibbed. ‘Bye.’

  ‘Bye, and Aimee . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t forget to eat something yourself.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she sighed, before hanging up. Food was the last thing she wanted, but it behoved her to eat for the baby’s sake. It was bad enough having to worry about one sick child without worrying that she was harming the one she was carrying by not taking proper nutrition. Heavy-hearted, she walked slowly back to her desk and tried to immerse herself in the challenge of setting up a new company.

 

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