Promises, Promises

by Patricia Scanlan

  It irritated Chris. He liked things to be neat and tidy. Housekeeping was not his wife’s forte, he thought crossly as he eyed last night’s supper dishes, still unwashed in the sink. It hadn’t been too bad when there had just been the two of them. But with two demanding children, who seemed to need a lot of feeding and clothes changes, the house never looked right any more. Suzy was always nagging him to get someone in to clean even once a week.

  ‘If Emma and Vincent can have someone in every day, surely we could have someone in once a week. We’re not paupers,’ she argued.

  It was all very well for Emma and Vincent. They were loaded. They hadn’t had to pay a penny for the magnificent site their house was on. And Vincent, with all his contacts in the building trade, had been able to build his mansion for next to nothing. Chris had had to take out a massive mortgage for the new house Suzy had demanded once the children had been born.

  Certainly they’d needed a bigger house. But detached houses in Sandymount were expensive and she’d insisted on a detached house. Semi-d’s did not quite suit their image. He had to agree there. After all a prestigious address did impress. And impressing potential clients was vitally important. Nevertheless he was financially stretched with his business overheads and big mortgage. A cleaning lady was not high on his list of priorities. Not when Suzy should be able to do it if she put her mind to it. The trouble was Suzy hated being tied to the house. She wanted to be gadding off into town. Alexandra was always phoning to invite her to gallery openings and book launches organized by the PR firm she worked for. Before the children were born Suzy had been able to go to them. But that had all changed. She was a mother now, a housewife. That was what she’d wanted when she’d walked up that aisle. He hadn’t forced her to get married. He resented her nagging and bad humours.

  ‘Here’s your shirt,’ Suzy snapped. ‘What time will you be home for dinner tonight? Don’t forget, I promised Alexandra I’d go to a make-up party she’s giving.’

  ‘But I won’t be home. I told you I was bringing Des Reid and some business associates out to dinner.’

  ‘You never told me that. Otherwise I would have organized a babysitter. I’ll probably never get one now. It’s not fair, Chris.’ She was furious.

  ‘Suzy, I did tell you. I distinctly remember saying it last week. You just don’t listen.’

  ‘Alexandra will be mad if I don’t go.’

  ‘Fuck Alexandra,’ Chris snapped. ‘She’s always the same. It’s all right for her. She can come and go as she chooses. But she can’t keep expecting you to drop everything now that you’ve got children.’

  ‘She’s going through a bad patch. Will left her for someone else. I have to give her support. She’s my best friend.’ Suzy grabbed the dish of Liga from him.

  ‘Will left her because she was mucking him around. He asked her to marry him but she couldn’t make up her mind. She kept him dangling for months. And I’ll tell you one thing, he had a lucky escape because she’s a ball-breaker, I’d pity the man who ends up with her. The only person Alexandra gives a hoot about is herself.’

  ‘That’s a horrible thing to say, Chris Wallace!’

  ‘Yeah, well it’s the truth.’ Chris pulled on his shirt and fastened the buttons.

  ‘She’s had a very hard time,’ Suzy retorted.

  ‘Well what do you want me to do about it? Burst into tears and wear a black tie? I’ll see you tonight.’

  Chris strode out of the kitchen and raced upstairs to finish dressing. He couldn’t care less about Alexandra and her hard times. He was having a hard enough time himself as it was. He slammed the front door when he was leaving, just so Suzy would be in no doubt as to his feelings. He hadn’t even had breakfast. Des Reid’s wife got up and cooked him a fry every morning. And they had four children. It was a pity Suzy wouldn’t take a leaf out of her book, Chris thought petulantly as he flung his briefcase into the front seat of the car and set off for work.

  Suzy heard the front door bang. ‘Goodbye and good riddance,’ she muttered as she lifted the twins out of their high chairs and watched them toddle out to the hall to play. Chris could be so unreasonable, dancing around like Hysterical Hilda because his shirt wasn’t ironed. Couldn’t he see she was up to her eyes?

  Now she was going to have to try and get a babysitter at short notice because of Des Reid and his cohorts. Suzy didn’t like Lecher Reid with his leering smile and roving hands. She sighed as she ran hot water into the sink and started to wash the dishes. Life was a drag at the moment, she thought despondently. Chris was busy at work and he wasn’t mucking in much with the children. They really kept her going. Nothing had prepared her for how hard it was going to be looking after two babies. At the beginning Chris had been good at helping out. But gradually, Suzy found that she was left more on her own with them. Chris spent a lot of time wining and dining clients. Or so he told her. Was he being unfaithful? Before the twins were born she’d been pretty certain he hadn’t strayed. She’d made sure to socialize with him as much as possible. He’d seemed quite contented with his lot. And she’d been happy. Getting pregnant had been a calculated risk. But she couldn’t keep putting it off. She was in her mid-thirties. Time was running out. She wanted a child. It would bind them closer together, she’d thought.

  Now she had two children and it was pushing them apart. Chris felt trapped. She couldn’t give him the attention she’d given him before. She shouldn’t have blown her top earlier. He hated being nagged. If she didn’t watch it, he would end up in the arms of another woman. That was a thought that filled her with dread.

  ‘No more nagging from now on.’ She smiled down at her daughter who had trotted in to show off her dolly. Suzy loved her children. The strength of that love had surprised her at first. She’d never thought of herself as particularly maternal. But once she’d held them in her arms for the first time, she knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. She loved being with the twins but she hated housework with a vengeance. Washing, ironing, cooking, cleaning. It was the pits. Years of repetitious drudgery stretched ahead of her. Could some women possibly enjoy all that? Suzy often wondered.

  ‘You’re not coming to my birthday party, Julie Ann Munroe. And I’m telling my mammy what you said.’ Stephanie was red-faced with frustration and temper.

  ‘Who cares? Your scabby old birthday party’s not for ages yet. Rebecca’s is first,’ Julie Ann retorted snootily and then, with the cruelty that only a five-year-old possesses, she repeated her taunting jibe. ‘You don’t have a daddy like me an’ Rebecca an’ my mummy says your mummy’s a tramp.’

  Stephanie didn’t know exactly what a tramp was, but she knew from her cousin’s disdainful tone and the way she wrinkled her nose up in distaste that it was something not very nice at all. It was all too much for Stephanie. With a shriek of anger she lashed out and landed a punch on Julie Ann’s smug little face.

  Her cousin howled with shock and pain as blood started gushing from her nose.

  ‘Good enough for you,’ Stephanie yelled back. ‘You leave my mammy alone.’

  ‘Auntie Miriam, Auntie Miriam, I’m bleeding,’ Julie Ann screamed hysterically.

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ Miriam swore from the kitchen sink as she peered out the kitchen window to see what all the commotion was about.

  Rebecca galloped in through the back door, breathless.

  ‘Quick, Mammy! Stephanie an’ Julie Ann are having a terrible fight. Stephanie punched Julie Ann in the snot ’cos she said Stephanie’s got no daddy an’ Auntie Ellen’s a . . . a something! An’ Stephanie said Julie Ann wasn’t coming to her birthday party an’ now they’re fightin’.’

  ‘I’m sick of the lot of you,’ Miriam fumed. ‘You can’t play for ten minutes without arguing like tinkers. There’ll be no birthday parties at all for anyone if you don’t stop it.’

  ‘But Mammy, I wasn’t fighting,’ Rebecca wailed, it’s not fair.’ She’d been looking forward to her birthday party for months.

 
Miriam flung off her rubber gloves and marched out the back door.

  ‘Auntie Miriam, I’m bleeding,’ Julie Ann screeched as blood dripped onto her white T-shirt, making a dramatic stain.

  ‘She said things about my mammy. An’ she said I had no daddy an’ I do don’t I, Auntie Miriam? He just lives somewhere else.’ Stephanie was trembling with fury and indignation.

  Miriam felt like giving Julie Ann another wallop. The little madam! Goading Stephanie like that. She was her mother’s daughter for sure, with her sharp tongue. Her heart went out to her niece. Stephanie knew that she was different. She didn’t have a home with a mother and father like her cousins, she lived with her gran and grandad and her mother in the farmhouse and she was looked after by Miriam until Ellen came home from work.

  Miriam had a huge soft spot for her little niece and there were times when Julie Ann and her little digs made her palm itch to box her ears.

  ‘Stop that bawling, Julie Ann,’ Miriam said crossly, as she wiped her nose.

  ‘She hit me.’ Julie Ann wept.

  ‘Why did you hit your cousin? I’m surprised at you, Stephanie,’ Miriam rebuked. She had to be seen to be fair.

  ‘She said things an’ she’s a liar. An’ my mammy says she’s a little greedy-guts ’cos Auntie Emma doesn’t half feed her an’ she’s always stuffin’ herself in Gran’s pantry.’ Stephanie glared at her cousin, wanting to hurt her the way she’d been hurt.

  Julie Ann stopped in mid-howl, ‘I’m not a greedy-guts, Stephanie Munroe. I’m straight telling my mummy what you said.’

  ‘You can’t. She’s not here. She’s on holidays!’ Stephanie retorted triumphantly.

  ‘Would the pair of you stop it this minute!’ Miriam commanded. ‘Stephanie, apologize to your cousin.’

  ‘No,’ Stephanie said defiantly.

  ‘This minute.’

  ‘No, it’s not fair, Auntie Miriam. She started it.’

  ‘Stephanie, you punched Julie Ann in the nose and made it bleed and you called her a greedy-guts, now say sorry.’ Miriam was firm.

  Stephanie dug her hands in her shorts pockets and shook her head. Her little face was red with emotion and her lower lip quivered.

  ‘If you don’t apologize, I’ll have to send you to Rebecca’s bedroom and you can’t come out to play for the rest of the afternoon.’

  Stephanie looked at her aunt, her big blue eyes two pools of hurt indignation and determination. Silently she shook her head.

  ‘Go to Rebecca’s room,’ Miriam said quietly, feeling like a heel.

  Stephanie gave her a look of deep reproach, but said nothing. Her lip quivered even more but she wouldn’t give Julie Ann the satisfaction of seeing her in tears. Stoically, she lifted her chin, cast a look of immense scorn at Julie Ann, and marched off towards the house.

  ‘You started it, Julie Ann, and I mightn’t let you come to my party either,’ Rebecca burst out before loyally following her cousin into exile.

  Julie Ann gazed at her cousins’ retreating backs in consternation. She wanted to go to Rebecca’s party next week. And she didn’t want to be left in the garden on her own. Now she had no-one to play with. Suddenly, going to the bedroom seemed a most attractive punishment.

  ‘I think I’ll go in too,’ she decided.

  ‘No, you can stay outside,’ Miriam said calmly.

  ‘But I’ve no-one to play with.’

  ‘Play with Daniel.’

  ‘He’s a boy!’ Julie Ann said in disgust. ‘I want to play with girls.’

  ‘Well you’ve no-one to play with now, because you started a fight. And I’ve told you before, Julie Ann, don’t be making remarks about people.’

  ‘Well Mummy said Auntie Ellen is a tramp,’ Julie Ann said sulkily. ‘I heard her saying it to Daddy.’

  ‘Julie Ann!’ Miriam exclaimed furiously. ‘You shouldn’t be listening to grown-ups talking. And you shouldn’t talk about things you know nothing about.’

  ‘I know what a tramp is! That man who comes and knocks on the door looking for jam jars and a cup of tea is a tramp,’ Julie Ann retorted indignantly.

  ‘Does Auntie Ellen go knocking on doors looking for jam jars and tea?’

  ‘No.’ Julie Ann pouted.

  ‘Well then, that’s enough of that nonsense and you can apologize to Stephanie too.’

  ‘She didn’t say sorry to me.’

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake. I’ve had enough of the pair of you. Go and tidy up those toys for me and I’ll go in and get the tea.’ Miriam was at the end of her tether. Emma and Vincent were due back at the weekend after two weeks abroad in the south of France and it couldn’t come quickly enough.

  Julie Ann was precocious and utterly spoilt. She always wanted to be the centre of attention. Miriam knew it wasn’t the child’s fault. Emma gave her everything she wanted in an effort to keep her distracted and out of her hair. Since she was a baby, Julie Ann had been looked after by whomever Emma employed from the town to take care of the house. Since she was born, there’d been five different housekeepers. Julie Ann took not the slightest notice of any of them and would throw ferocious tantrums if she didn’t get her own way. The only people she knew would take no nonsense from her were her gran and Miriam.

  Miriam sighed. Vincent and Emma were fools. Couldn’t they see that the child longed for a bit of discipline and the security of a routine?

  Julie Ann had been in bed at eight every night since she’d come to stay with Miriam two weeks ago. The first night, Julie Ann had calmly announced that she never went to bed before ten and she was allowed to watch TV.

  ‘Goodnight, Rebecca,’ she said smugly, assuming that she was going to be allowed to stay up.

  Rebecca was horrified. Even Connie wasn’t allowed to stay up that late. ‘I want to stay up too.’ She eyeballed Miriam, testing her. If Miriam allowed Julie Ann to stay up and didn’t allow her own daughter to, that was disloyalty of the highest order.

  ‘Julie Ann, when you are in this house, you obey the rules. Eight o’clock is bedtime for you and Rebecca. Now scat.’

  Julie Ann’s face darkened. ‘Mummy said I could go to bed when I liked,’ she challenged.

  ‘Your mummy asked me to mind you for two weeks, and I hope you’ll have fun with us, but it’s time for bed now, lovey. So not another word. Off you pop. Rebecca, show Julie Ann where to put her toothbrush and toothpaste and her facecloth and towel,’ Miriam said cheerfully, pretending not to notice her niece’s outraged expression. For a moment Julie Ann looked as though she was going to argue but she decided against it and turned a sweet smile on her aunt.

  ‘May I have a glass of orange juice, please,’ she asked politely. ‘My dad always gives me one.’

  ‘I’m afraid I just have milk,’ Miriam said firmly.

  ‘I don’t like milk.’

  ‘Water then.’

  Julie Ann wrinkled her pert little button nose, threw her eyes up to heaven, and said with resignation, ‘It will have to do.’ Her tone implied that her relations’ standard of living left a lot to be desired. Miriam hadn’t known whether to be angry or amused.

  It was a long two weeks. Thank God it was almost over, Miriam reflected, as she watched Julie Ann swinging by herself on the old battered swing. A swing totally different from the state-of-the-art red and blue double one she had in her own back garden.

  Julie Ann knew more than was good for her and was allowed to listen to adults’ conversation at will, Miriam thought crossly as she whacked a fly away from her nose. Rebecca and Stephanie were much more childish in their ways than their sophisticated cousin. Yet, after a week in their company, Julie Ann played hopscotch and rounders and O’Grady Says . . . with gusto, forgetting her airs and graces and behaving much more like a child her age should. No doubt, as soon as Emma was home, she’d be back to her old precocious self again.

  Emma was dreadfully irresponsible, to call Ellen a tramp in front of Julie Ann. Miriam scowled as she picked up crayons and colouring books that had been stre
wn on the lawn. There were times, though, that Ellen asked for it. Miriam sighed as she thought of her sister-in-law. In the last couple of years, Ellen had started drinking a lot more than she used to. She dated different men. Deserved or not, she was getting a name. People talked about her.

  ‘For heaven’s sake am I supposed to sit in purdah for the rest of my life just because I made one mistake?’ Ellen snapped when Miriam delicately broached the subject. ‘It’s all right for you. You’ve got a husband and a future. I’ve got nothing except living with a mother who hates me and a child I can’t give all the things she deserves to have. I go out on Friday night. I try to forget the life that stretches out before me. If some man comes along and chats me up and I fancy him, don’t expect me to turn down the chance of a kiss and a cuddle. I can pretend that someone wants me because I’m a sexy, desirable, interesting woman and not a flabby, boring, broke unmarried mother. Don’t worry. I don’t sleep with them. I learned my lesson with Chris.’

  You wouldn’t be so flabby if you stopped drinking pints of beer, Miriam was tempted to say, but she didn’t. She understood Ellen’s frustration and despair. But it annoyed her that Ellen was doing nothing to change her life. When her sister-in-law had asked her to mind Stephanie all those years ago, Miriam had assumed it would be a temporary measure, until Ellen left Glenree and got herself fixed up with a job and a place in Dublin. Little did she think that almost six years later, she’d still be minding Stephanie after school. And Ellen would still be working in her father’s shop and living at home.

  A fine one I am to talk about doing something positive, she thought dryly. Here she was, heading for forty, well thirty-seven, she amended hastily, and she still couldn’t say no to people. When Emma had started dropping broad hints about how wonderful it would be to go on holidays to her friend’s villa in the south of France, but that she didn’t want Julie Ann to miss school, Miriam knew what was coming.