He’d hurried out of the church as soon as it was polite to leave, hoping against hope that she’d be outside. Desperately, he’d scrutinized the crowd looking for her, willing her to be there waiting for him. She would have known that he’d be at the removal. Surely she’d be as curious about him as he was about her. She’d been crazy about him once. He was shocked when he realized that she was gone. She hadn’t even waited for him to come out of the church. The old Ellen would have found some excuse to come and talk to him. The old Ellen would have forgiven him on the spot if he’d asked her. The old Ellen was a real softie. Had that changed, as well as her appearance? God! He hoped not. Ellen’s soft-heartedness was one of the traits that had really attracted him.
He was going to make sure he spoke to her at the funeral in the morning – if she was at it. He was going to get back with Ellen. He needed her softness and understanding. He needed nights of wild passion like they used to have. He was going to resume their love affair if it was the last thing he did. She’d fallen for him once, Chris knew he could make her fall for him again.
Chapter Twenty
She hadn’t come. Chris’s disappointment was so strong he could almost taste it. He felt empty and depressed as he sat drinking coffee in the hotel the mourners had repaired to after the burial. He could see Mr and Mrs Munroe chatting to Pamela. Miriam was with them but Ellen obviously hadn’t wanted to see him again. Chris felt angry. She’d let him down.
He saw Emma sitting forlornly by herself. Vincent was at the bar with Julie Ann, buying her a lemonade. What was wrong with Emma anyway? She wasn’t her usual vivacious self.
‘I’m just going over to Emma for a minute,’ he said to Suzy. She hardly acknowledged him. They’d had sex early this morning when both of them were half-asleep and he’d muttered Ellen’s name. Suzy had freaked. He didn’t blame her. It was a stupid hurtful thing to do. He’d had Ellen on his mind and it just slipped out. That would be him in the doghouse for the foreseeable future.
He walked over to Emma and sat down in Vincent’s seat.
‘What’s wrong with you, you’re in very bad form?’
‘Nothing,’ she said forlornly.
‘Come on, spit it out. Are you prostrate with grief because dear old granny won’t be leaving you a legacy?’
Emma gave a wan smile. ‘Very funny.’
‘Is Vincent having an affair? Is your mother-in-law for real?’
‘Stop it, Chris.’ Emma giggled.
‘That’s better. Tell Chris what’s the matter.’ He patted her hand.
‘I’m bloody pregnant,’ she murmured.
Chris was dismayed. He knew Emma was dead set against having any more children. ‘You poor little sod,’ he said sympathetically.
‘I haven’t said anything to anyone. I don’t want people congratulating me. You know the way I feel about kids.’ Emma looked at him with an expression of utter defeat.
‘I’m sorry, love. Nothing I’ll say is going to make it any better.’
‘At least I know you’re not going to say congratulations. That helps. Don’t tell anyone.’ Emma squeezed his hand.
‘Poor old Ems.’ Chris hugged her affectionately. He and Emma understood each other.
‘I saw Ellen and Stephanie last night,’ he said quietly. ‘I thought she might be here today.’
‘She’s getting some job done in the flat over the shop. She wanted to be around in case the builder needed her. So her nibs’ – she nodded in Sheila’s direction – ‘told me. She’s moving out of home.’
‘Oh!’ Chris murmured. ‘She looks well.’
‘Are you serious! That suit is out of the ark and she’s going to take the eye out of someone with that feather in her hat,’ Emma scoffed, thinking he was referring to Sheila who was chatting animatedly to Pamela, the feather in her hat bobbing up and down at a rate of knots as she emphasized a point.
‘I meant Ellen,’ Chris said offhandedly. He was dying to talk about Ellen but he was afraid to say too much in case Emma got suspicious.
‘Oh her,’ Emma drawled dismissively. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’
‘When is she moving in to her new pad?’
‘Fairly soon I think. Chris, Vincent’s coming back and you’re not exactly his favourite person. You better go.’
‘Tell you what, let’s have lunch some day next week. You can have a good moan,’ Chris suggested.
‘That would be lovely.’ Emma brightened up.
‘Right. I’ll phone you and fix a time and day,’ Chris said hastily, anxious to get away before Vincent arrived.
So Ellen was getting a place of her own, he mused as he threaded his way between the tables. That was interesting. He felt a little more cheerful as he sat down beside Suzy and lit a cigarette.
‘Good morning, Doug,’ Ellen said brightly as she let herself into the shop. She was embarrassed after her outburst the night before.
‘Morning, Ellen. You OK?’ Doug smiled at her.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Good. See you at lunchtime?’
‘Yeah.’ She smiled at his easy-going direct way. She felt much better this morning. She was proud of herself. She hadn’t given in to weakness. Her life was her own. Chris Wallace had been banished to where he belonged . . . oblivion.
Around eleven, when she had the orders and deliveries organized, she headed off to the bank with the previous day’s takings. It was a fresh spring day and she enjoyed the short stroll. She was walking back to the shop about twenty minutes later when she saw Denise walking towards her house.
‘Hi,’ she called.
Denise turned to face her.
‘Are you all right, Denise?’ Ellen was shocked by the sight of the haggard woman in front of her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and circled with dark shadows. Her face had a waxy pallor. She was smoking a cigarette and her fingers trembled.
‘Denise, what’s wrong with you? Are you sick? Do you need the doctor?’
Denise’s face crumpled and she began to sob. Ellen could see Monica Anderson bearing down upon them so she gave Denise a hasty shove into the garden and stepped in behind her. She led the sobbing woman into the house to the kitchen and sat her down at the table.
‘What’s the matter, Denise? Tell me.’ She took her friend’s hand in her own and made her look at her.
‘Oh Ellen! It’s Jimmy. He’s having an affair. He’s been messing about all through our marriage. Jesus. I can’t believe it. Jimmy. I thought I could really trust him. I never thought he’d look at another woman.’
‘My God!’ Ellen was flummoxed.
‘All the time he said he was working late in the office, and I believed him, and he was off having his little flings. He’s having an affair with Esther Dowling. He had a one-night stand with Cora Nolan who works in his office. And the whole time he was fucking them he was sleeping with me.’
Ellen opened her mouth but nothing came out. She couldn’t believe her ears. Jimmy McMahon . . . a womanizer . . . It couldn’t be true.
Jimmy McMahon sat in the front seat of the church and was first up to receive Communion every Sunday morning. Jimmy McMahon was on the church committee. Jimmy McMahon did the church collection every Sunday at eleven-thirty Mass. Ellen couldn’t believe her ears. Jimmy McMahon had had not one but two affairs. He was nearly as bad as Chris. But Chris was a sexy hunk, for God’s sake. Under no circumstances could Jimmy McMahon be described as a hunk. He had bandy spindly legs, lemonade bottle shoulders and lank brown hair. What was his attraction? Ellen resolved to study him closely the next time she encountered him.
‘How did you find out?’ she asked gently.
‘Oh, the one in the office phoned me to tell me. They’d had a one-night stand and she thought they were mated for life. She’d followed him to Esther’s place and saw them kissing. She went crazy and caused a right rumpus on the street and then she phoned me to ask did I know that my darling husband was cheating on her and on me. He must have known she’d do something like that because he
came home pissed and told me he was having an affair with that Dowling cow.’
Esther Dowling! Ellen shook her head incredulously. She was the bank manager’s secretary. She was so prim and proper, it made it all the more shocking.
‘Wasn’t she going to be a nun one time? She was a real goody-goody. Do you remember her at school? She wouldn’t say boo to a goose. She’d blush if you looked sideways at her. She never went dancing or out to the pub when we were growing up. Sister Patrick used to say the quiet ones were the ones to watch. How right she was. How in the name of God did she and Jimmy get together?’
‘They know each other from way back when we were young. He used to sit beside her counting the church collection on Monday nights. He had an affair with her when I was pregnant with Lisa. That’s how long it’s been going on. Three years. He was so pissed last night it all came pouring out of him. I just couldn’t believe it. When I tackled him again this morning he was sober and he didn’t deny any of it.’ Denise broke down sobbing.
‘Don’t cry, Denise. They’re not worth it and I’m telling you that from bitter experience.’ Ellen felt a surge of hate for Jimmy and Chris and all the bastards like them.
Denise lit another cigarette as Ellen poured the tea.
‘Jimmy wouldn’t talk to me. He’d come home and bury his head in the paper or watch TV but he was never really a talker so I was used to that. I really believed him when he said he was working late in the office. We were still having sex. I never refused him. I’d breathe heavy and groan and moan and tell him he was wonderful just to bolster his ego and he never bothered to find out if I was satisfied. He was a selfish bastard in bed. Maybe he was saving it all for his mistresses.’
‘Maybe he wasn’t any good with them either,’ Ellen said gently.
‘Well he must be good at something. Cora is besotted with him. If she gets her hands on Esther she’ll swing for her.’
‘What do they see in him?’
‘Oh, the same as I did, I’m sure. Jimmy has a great poor little me act. He’s very good at making people feel sorry for him. He probably told these bitches that I was neglecting him or not feeding him or didn’t have time for him because of the children. He probably said I didn’t understand him. I’ve never met anyone who can feel quite as sorry for himself as Jimmy can if things aren’t going his way. But I never thought he had it in him to be unfaithful. I’ve been married to him twelve years, Ellen, and after what he told me last night all I can say is he’s a stranger to me. He’s such a fuckin’ hypocrite. Everyone in Glenree thinks he’s a pillar of the community. For all I know he’s been out with prostitutes. I could have diseases I don’t know about.’ She buried her head in her hands and cried like a baby.
‘What am I going to do, Ellen? What am I going to do? I’ve no job. I’m dependent on him. What am I going to tell my kids?’
‘Maybe he’ll end it,’ Ellen said helplessly.
‘I don’t want him. He’s the scum of the earth as far as I’m concerned.’ Denise’s face was contorted with anger, pain, worry.
‘Denise, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to you. All I can do is listen. And if it’s any use to you, after Chris left me when I told him I was pregnant, I thought I’d die. I really wanted to end it all. But I got through it. I had to for Stephanie. You’ll have to do it for your children. It’s not easy. But you do get through these things, the pain does ease. I’d be a liar if I said it goes away. It doesn’t. But you fill your life with other things and, though it’s still there, you bury it deep and it only comes back now and again.’
‘God I feel such a failure.’ Denise sank her head in her hands.
‘I know,’ Ellen empathized. ‘You say to yourself, was it me? Was I not loving enough, interesting enough, sexy enough? It does your head in and it’s so unfair. Look, it’s Jimmy’s loss. He’s a fool.’
‘I did something wrong. If he wasn’t happy in our marriage it was my fault somewhere along the line.’
‘Stop that, Denise, right now! He wasn’t happy because he was probably feeling as guilty as hell for cheating on you. Don’t you dare take the blame for his shitty behaviour,’ Ellen fumed. ‘Look, I have to go. I’ll call in after work to see how you are.’
‘Thanks, Ellen. You’re a pal. Don’t tell anyone. Well you can tell Doug if you want to, but no-one else. I’m sure it will all come out eventually but I don’t want to give the gossips a field day.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Ellen said grimly. ‘I know all about the gossips in this place. I’ll never forget what I went through when I was expecting Stephanie. Don’t mind them. They preach Christian charity but they certainly don’t practise it. I’ll see you later.’
She was still stunned as she walked across the street to the shop. Poor Denise was going through a desperate trauma. The betrayal of trust was a terrible thing to suffer. Ellen pitied her from the bottom of her heart. She knew what the grief, the fear, the pain and anger were like. But in the long run, no matter how sympathetic friends and family were, only Denise could endure it and get over it.
For the week that followed Ellen made sure to call in and see her after work every evening. Denise veered from anger to deep sadness, her moods swinging wildly.
‘Why? Why did he do that to me? How could he hurt me like that? Doesn’t he have any feelings for me at all?’ she’d ask over and over. Ellen couldn’t give her an answer. Life was full of whys and hows. Who knew that better than she did?
Jimmy was there one evening when she went in. He muttered a greeting and disappeared upstairs. She watched him lope out of the room. Sean Connery he ain’t, she thought, fascinated by the fact that he had women falling at his feet. Ellen felt like thumping him. She stayed with Denise for a little while and then went to collect Stephanie from Miriam’s.
‘Are we wallpapering tonight?’ Miriam asked eagerly.
‘If you don’t mind.’ Ellen grinned.
‘I can’t wait.’
Doug had finished the inside of the flat and it was all ready to be decorated. The hard work she’d put in, bonding walls and sanding doors and skirting boards, meant that they were ready to start papering and painting. Ellen had bought paper and paint ages ago.
It was exciting as the sheets of wallpaper went up on the wall. The sitting-room took on a whole new look. Miriam was as enthusiastic as if it were her own place and they worked together, enjoying seeing the fruit of their labours take shape. Ellen was delighted with it. It was so fresh and clean.
Over the next fortnight they worked hard. The sitting-room was yellow and cream, the dining-room pale green and white, her bedroom pink and blue and Stephanie’s blue and white, just like the nursery in Mary Poppins.
When the papering and painting was finished, Ellen started furnishing her home. Sheila and Mick had bought her a new three-piece suite in yellow and blue chintz for the sitting-room. She tried it in different variations until she was satisfied. One armchair in front of the window, the settee against the wall opposite the fireplace and the other armchair beside the fire. Vincent and Emma had given her a new coffee table and she placed that in the centre of the room. She’d bought several lamps which she arranged in various corners. She’d bought an old bookcase which she’d stripped and varnished. That went along the wall beside the fire. Once she’d placed her books on the shelves, Ellen really began to feel at home. She’d never taken an interest in decorating before and she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
Miriam and Ben gave her money to go towards her dining-room suite and she’d bought a round pine table and six chairs to match the pine dresser she’d bought at an auction.
Stephanie was beside herself with excitement the day the truck arrived with two new divans and a double bed. The divans were arranged side by side with a small white locker in between and she hopped from one bed to another trying to decide which one she’d sleep in. Ellen and Miriam made them up and the cheery patchwork quilts that Sheila had made looked lovely and inviting. The new longed-for teddy bear cur
tains fluttered in the breeze of the open window. All Stephanie’s toys lay neatly on the shelves Doug had built for her. She was in seventh heaven.
Sheila was very subdued on the Saturday that the final move took place. Stephanie was bursting with excitement as all her clothes were packed into Mick’s car. Ellen saw the tears in her mother’s eyes and found it in her heart to feel sorry for her.
‘Will you come and help us settle in?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I’d really like you to see the place and be the first person to have a cup of tea with us.’
Sheila went red as she tried to compose herself.
‘Thank you, dear. I’ll come over with your father,’ she said awkwardly.
It had been years since her mother had called her dear. Ellen felt like crying herself. It was very strange to be leaving the home she’d lived in all her life. The last years had been unhappy ones but now that it was time to leave, it was a wrench.
‘Come on, come on,’ Mick said briskly, aware of the underlying emotions. He was trying to keep Sheila’s spirits up, he knew how desperately sad she was at Stephanie’s going. He was the same himself but he wouldn’t let Ellen see it.
Ellen’s new Triumph was packed to the gills with all her possessions and, as she sat behind the wheel and drove down the drive of the farm to start her new life, she felt a myriad of emotions. Exhilaration, sadness, relief, anticipation. She followed Mick’s car, and never looked back. One chapter of her life had closed, a new one was beginning.
That night as she lay in her new double bed looking up at the skylight through which a thousand stars twinkled, Ellen felt at peace. She loved her new bedroom with its wooden sloping ceiling and the pink striped wallpaper. The pink lamp beside her bed cast a warm glow. The pink and blue floral curtains on the dormer window were reflected in the white and gold kidney-shaped dressing-table with the three mirrors that could be angled any way. It was dainty and feminine and completely different from the battered old mahogany one with the chipped stained mirror that she’d had at home. She had a matching white wardrobe trimmed with gold and a small chest of drawers which was now filled with all her undies and jumpers. She was as pleased as Punch with her modern furniture. She’d spent most of her savings but she’d start saving from scratch again, she assured herself.
Promises, Promises Page 38