Divided Loyalties
Page 30
‘It doesn’t seem to bother him. He thinks it’s more important to give her a good lifestyle. He feels she’s getting plenty of cultural diversity. We don’t see it in the same way at all. Don’t get me wrong, Greg’s a very generous husband. I’ve never made a wedding dress since we went out to Abu Dhabi. He didn’t want me working. He’s making pots of money. I can spend what I want and he never queries it. But money’s not everything.’ She shook her head. ‘I can see where he’s coming from, in a way. Once you get used to a level of wealth it’s hard to let go of the golden goose. He’s told me that the job in Dubai is the last one he’s doing out there. That’s if he gets it. Part of me is hoping that he doesn’t. Is that disloyal?’ she asked ruefully.
‘No! Don’t be silly. You’re a very loyal wife. He’s lucky to have you,’ Carrie declared in a very firm tone of voice.
‘And you’re very loyal to me. Thanks,’ Shauna said gratefully.
Carrie’s mobile rang. ‘Hello?’
‘Carrie, it’s Vera O’Neill. Your dad’s had a little accident. He’s dropped a heavy block on his foot and he was only wearing his slippers. I think he might have broken some of his toes. You might need to get his foot X-rayed. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.’
‘For goodness’ sake. You never know what he’s going to do next. That’s OK, Mrs O’Neill. Thanks for ringing.’ Carrie threw her eyes up to heaven as she clicked off.
‘What’s up?’ Shauna eyed her warily.
‘Dad’s let a fucking block fall on his bloody toes. Mrs O’Neill thinks some are broken and he needs to get his foot X-rayed.’
‘For crying out loud.’ Shauna couldn’t hide her exasperation.
‘Two weeks ago he nearly took the finger off himself with a knife and I had to bring him in to get stitched. Honest to God, I should put up a bloody tent in the grounds of Our Lady of Lourdes. If I never saw that hospital again I wouldn’t be sorry.’ Carrie was fit to be tied. ‘I’ll have to ring Dan. I can’t go because Kenny is going to Dublin for a night out with some mates and I can’t ask him to stand in for me again. He did it twice last week.’ Carrie punched in her husband’s number.
‘I suppose I should go,’ Shauna said reluctantly.
Carrie looked at her, finger poised to press the green key. ‘Welcome home,’ she said dryly. ‘I’ll mind Chloe for you. The kids will be home from school in the next twenty minutes.’
‘Oh, bugger!’ Shauna cursed, taking a last sip of her coffee. ‘I’ll see you when I see you.’
‘Keep in touch,’ Carrie murmured.
‘Will do. Chloe, be good for Carrie, I’ve to bring Grandpa somewhere. I’ll be back soon.’
‘OK, Mom,’ her daughter said unconcernedly as she wandered into the mobile with Hannah in tow.
Carrie watched her sister stalk out of the enclave, grim-faced. Guilt and relief and irritation battled for supremacy. She felt sorry for Shauna, knowing very well what it was like waiting hour after hour in A and E. She felt relief that she wasn’t going. She’d had more than her share of it and that’s where the irritation crept in. If she hadn’t had the excuse of her new job, she probably would have had to take Noel to the hospital. Shauna never acknowledged just how much she and Dan did for Noel and that bugged her.
She had a face on her like thunder, and Carrie knew that she was put out about it. Tough! Carrie had to carry the can all the time. Shauna could just get on with it. She had to do it week in, week out. She stood up and gathered up the cups and plates. Trust their father to have one of his dramas. She’d been enjoying the natter with her sister. The site was peaceful and quiet because it was a weekday and still termtime, and none of the families with children were on site. July would be a different kettle of fish and she might not find it so easy to put her feet up for an afternoon.
Shauna’s life was so complicated compared to her own, she mused as she washed their cups. If she was torn between Dan’s needs and what was best for the children she wasn’t sure how she’d deal with it. But then Dan was a different kettle of fish from Greg, she acknowledged wryly. There really was no comparison.
Greg gritted his teeth and applied an ice pack to his very, very tender and extremely painful privates. He was in bits. He swallowed another two painkillers even though he wasn’t supposed to take them for another hour and a half. He’d ruined himself. He groaned. He’d never be able to have sex again. He’d had a slash and nearly fainted. What was he going to say to Shauna? How was he going to get back to Abu Dhabi in three days’ time? He’d never be able to drive that far.
He lay in the darkened hotel room. He had to stay lying down as much as he could for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. That wouldn’t be a difficulty. He was shattered. But the urologist had assured him that he’d be able to return to work the day after tomorrow. ‘Lying bastard,’ he muttered. He’d probably never work again. He could very well die here on his own and no-one would know, he thought gloomily. He was being punished for going behind his wife’s back and having a vasectomy when her heart was set on another baby. If anyone was the lying bastard it was he. He’d made a big mistake and now he was rueing it.
Shauna sat beside her father as he sat with his foot up in a wheelchair, waiting to be X-rayed. He was doing his crossword, and not inclined to talk. That suited Shauna. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. As his problem wasn’t serious they could expect to be waiting for at least three hours, she was told by the triage nurse. What a pain in the butt! She’d been really enjoying herself sitting gabbing with Carrie.
Her sister had been more than happy to pawn their father off on her. She might have given her a bit of leeway. She was hardly in the country forty-eight hours, she thought crabbily.
Her phone vibrated and she saw that she had a message.
Hi where r u? Called to c u, will wait until u get home. When will that be? Della X
Shauna’s lips thinned. Good enough for her, she thought nastily. She hadn’t given her much time to settle in, and how typical of her to arrive unannounced. Wagon! she thought crossly as her fingers flew over her keypad. It was almost worth sitting in A and E to be able to write: Have no idea. In A&E with Dad. Long wait ahead. S.
She waited for the reply, which wasn’t long in coming.
Sorry to hear that. Hope not serious. Will visit again soon. Della x
Would she never learn? Shauna thought irritably as she read the message. Suggest you ring first. Have a lot on, she texted back tartly. Unsurprisingly there was no reply.
‘Would you like a coffee or tea or a cold drink?’ she asked Noel.
‘Not for me, thanks, but you go ahead and get something if you want,’ her father replied, grimacing in pain as he moved his foot, which was black, blue and very swollen.
‘No, I’m fine,’ Shauna murmured. They lapsed back into silence and Noel sucked his pen and looked into the distance, trying to work out a particularly difficult clue.
Shauna glanced round her at the crowded A and E waiting room and noticed a heavily pregnant woman sitting beside an elderly lady who was wheezing noisily. The woman shifted uncomfortably in her hard seat, her cheeks red, damp tendrils of hair sticking to her forehead.
Not the place to be if you were well gone in pregnancy. She thought of what it would be like to be pregnant out in Abu Dhabi in the scorching summer temperatures. Perhaps Carrie was right about coming home for the birth. It would all depend when she got pregnant and when her baby was due. That would be another bridge to cross with Greg. She wouldn’t think about it until she had to, she decided. The most important thing was getting pregnant. All the other decisions that had to be made would follow on after that. She whiled away the time thinking of names that she’d call her baby. Mostly she concentrated on girls’ names, discarding this one and that until it danced in front of her, the perfect name for her new daughter.
Charlotte Anna Cassidy.
That was it. Perfect. If Greg didn’t like it he could lump it. He’d kept her waiting long enough for her litt
le Charlotte. Chloe and Charlotte went beautifully together. They would be the best of friends.
A smile flitted across Shauna’s face as she daydreamed of her daughters shopping and talking and drinking coffee together in the years to come.
30
‘It’s such a pain in the ass. I was supposed to be staying with Shauna but Dad’s on crutches and it would be kind of callous not to stay with him, wouldn’t it?’ Bobby looked at his partner, half hoping that Anton might disagree with him and tell him to stay at Shauna’s anyway. He’d been disappointed that his partner couldn’t come on the trip because of his family commitments. Perhaps it was just as well, in the light of his father’s accident, he thought ruefully.
‘Very callous,’ Anton said firmly. ‘Heartless even.’ He looked at Bobby and grinned. ‘Sorry. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.’
‘You know me so well,’ Bobby growled.
‘Ah cheer up, at least you’re talking to him. That’s a big step after all those years of silence. Think positive,’ Anton encouraged.
‘Talking’s different from actually being in his company. It’s going to feel strange going home. I’ll be on edge. I’m not looking forward to it,’ Bobby groaned. ‘I didn’t feel so bad going to stay with Shauna.’
‘I know. It’s easy for me to tell you what to do. But it might not be as bad as you think.’ Anton gave him a hug. ‘Let’s sit here and take a breather and we’ll walk back to the pub and I’ll buy you a pint.’
‘OK,’ Bobby agreed, flinging himself down on to the grass. They’d gone for a walk on Primrose Hill as they often did in the evenings after work. The city skyline was hazy in the distance and a refreshing breeze whispered through the grass, bringing relief after the heat of the day.
He closed his eyes and let the evening sun warm his face. He liked strolling on Primrose Hill, its trees and greenery and open spaces a reminder of home. He’d made a good life for himself in London. He had a lot of friends. His sexuality wasn’t a big deal, and now that he was with Anton he couldn’t ever see himself going home to live, but he missed the smell and sounds of the sea and countryside. He slanted a glance at his partner who was sprawled out on the grass, face raised to the sun, totally relaxed.
They’d met at the launch of a mutual friend’s art exhibition and liked each other. Anton Kavauna was in his mid-thirties, a little older than Bobby, and he was tall, dark and handsome with silky black hair. A small scar on the side of his cheek, the result of a childhood fall, gave him a slightly rakish air. His amber eyes, fringed by long black lashes, sparked with good humour. He’d give Colin Firth a run for his money for definite, Bobby thought happily, a warm glow of happiness suffusing him. After all the years of loneliness and confusion he’d found who and what he’d been looking for. Anton was a gift from God, sent to teach him what real love truly was, he thought gratefully, sending up a little prayer of thanks.
It had been a friendship first, for which, with hindsight, Bobby was thankful. He’d had flings that had happened quickly and fizzled out. With Anton it had been a slow getting to know each other before romance had entered the equation. They got on very well, they had similar interests and, most important, they made each other laugh. Laughter was a big constant in their relationship. When he was with Anton, he felt perfectly content, happy and peaceful. His partner was a calm, thoughtful, steady type, the perfect foil to his own impulsive, exuberant queenyness. Chalk and cheese, but they worked.
He’d love to bring his beloved to Ireland to visit Whiteshells Bay and meet the girls. That was Bobby’s dream. It was a pity about Anton’s mother’s knee replacement. That was crap timing, and unforeseen when they’d made their plans for the visit earlier in the year.
‘Shame you can’t come. I was looking forward to it,’ he said regretfully, gently waving a wasp away from his face.
‘It will happen,’ Anton assured him. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for me to visit. The important thing is for you to go and get things on an even keel with your dad first. Now that he’s written the letter of reconciliation there’s no point in upsetting him.’
‘I wish he was like your parents. They’re so . . . so . . . accepting,’ Bobby said longingly.
‘He is what he is. You’re not going to change him. Accept it, Bobby, and stop banging your head off a brick wall,’ Anton retorted matter-of-factly. ‘And stop acting like a drama queen about it and wallowing in your so-called sad, hard life while you’re at it. Life’s what you make it.’
‘Bastard.’ Bobby pretended annoyance but he knew Anton wasn’t fooled.
Anton was such a no-nonsense chap, which was just as well. If his friend was as much of a flibbertigibbet as he was himself it would be a disaster, Bobby admitted, rolling over onto his stomach.
‘Shall we head down to the Washington and sink a few pints? I’m going to hit the sack early tonight,’ Anton suggested, yawning. He’d been working on a new website until the early hours and he was bushed.
‘OK,’ Bobby agreed. He was tired himself. He’d worked a double shift the day before and he could do with an early night as he was on a dawn flight the next morning. In less than twenty-four hours he’d be breathing in the rich, tangy air of Whiteshells Bay. He was looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time.
‘Did you get my silks?’ Della nibbled on a crudité, trying to ignore Ashley, who was pulling the tail of her neighbour’s cat. She was sitting on a lounger on her patio talking to Shauna on the phone.
‘Yes, I did, but not in the colour you wanted. It’s royal blue. It’s very nice though,’ her sister-in-law informed her.
‘Oh!’ Della exclaimed, annoyed. ‘I suppose that will have to do. I had my heart set on the green one. It would have gone lovely with a cream dress I have.’ She scowled. Royal blue wasn’t her favourite colour by any manner or means. The green would have suited her far better.
‘Well, sorry,’ Shauna said, a trifle tartly. ‘They had no green left. If you don’t want it I’ll keep it myself.’
‘No, no, I’ll take it,’ Della said hastily. Shauna had more than enough clothes. Royal blue silk was better than no silk. ‘So when are we going to see you? Kathryn and Ashley are longing to see their cousin. How about if we pop up at the weekend?’ She hid her annoyance.
‘Bobby’s coming home and he’s staying with me, so could we leave it until after he’s gone?’ Shauna’s voice was so clear down the line she might as well have been next door.
‘Why wouldn’t he stay with your father? Especially if the poor man’s on crutches?’ Della quizzed. ‘He must find it hard to manage.’
‘Well we will be spending a lot of time in Whiteshells Bay so I’ll be toing and froing.’ Shauna’s voice had an edge to it and Della knew she was getting the brush-off.
‘You’re always so hard to pin down, Shauna,’ she said acidly. ‘It’s just a cup of coffee I’m talking about, not a black tie dinner.’ She couldn’t contain herself.
‘Look, Della, I’m only home, Dad’s had an accident, I’m having a visitor, but I’m here for three months so we’ll sort something, OK? There’s no rush,’ Shauna retorted acerbically.
‘Sure, whatever you say. Tell your father I was asking for him and Bobby too. It’s years since I’ve seen him. The Christmas before you went to Abu Dhabi, actually.’ Della rowed back. She didn’t want her sister-in-law to get into a snit. She wanted a couple of weekends up in Dublin, with Filomena waiting on her hand and foot, and minding the children to boot. Weekends in Shauna and Greg’s meant no cooking, washing or cleaning. She’d managed to have three good ones last summer.
‘I’ll let you go, and I’ll be in touch. Good to talk to you.’ She injected a bright, breezy note into her tone, despite the fact that she was seriously pissed off with her sister-in-law.
‘Thanks for calling,’ Shauna said politely and hung up. Della stared at the phone, disgusted. What a snooty cow Shauna had become over the years. When she’d first known her she’d been friendly and welcom
ing, but over the last couple of years in particular Della had become aware of an edge of tension between them that was certainly not of her making. Shauna was always making excuses not to have them stay over when she and the children went to visit them in Malahide. And even out in the Gulf Shauna was leaving them to their own devices rather a lot. Della had noticed that particularly during their last trip at Christmas. Shauna had gone off to her various classes and clubs and coffee mornings and hardly included her at all.
‘Leave those flowers alone,’ she screeched at Ashley, who was now pulling the petals off her roses. Rage bubbled inside her. How dare Shauna McCarthy make her feel like a nuisance? How dare she! She was a nothing before she married Greg. A McCarthy from some little hole called Whiteshells Bay. And that Carrie one was as bad. She hadn’t even bothered her ass to get her the few things she’d asked for when she was out in the Gulf at Easter. That pair really had notions about themselves, Della fumed. It was because of her brother’s money that Madam Shauna was where she was today. It was because of marrying into the Cassidy family and raising her social status that she now felt she could turn up her nose at Della and treat her like a country bumpkin. Big mistake! There was only so much crap a woman could take from her in-laws. And she had taken more than enough. One of these days Della was going to tell Shauna McCarthy Cassidy exactly what she thought of her.
‘You’d better put a few hot water bottles in that bed to air it when you’ve changed the sheets,’ Noel said. ‘And put a few clean towels on the end of it. He’s always showering and washing.’
‘Yes, Dad, now would you excuse me, you’re in my way,’ Carrie said tightly, trying to contain her exasperation. Now that Bobby was coming to stay with their father, Noel had her running around like a lunatic, changing beds, shopping for meals and cleaning and hoovering. She was knackered and annoyed. It wouldn’t have killed Shauna to come over for an hour or two to help out. After all, Bobby was supposed to be staying with her, she thought resentfully.