Secrets of a Happy Marriage

by Cathy Kelly

  ‘Could you come down and see me?’

  ‘I’ve just come back up from the swimming pool,’ said Cari, ‘so no. I have to get ready for tonight, and no, I don’t want to see you. Why don’t you just go away.’

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘please.’

  ‘Five minutes,’ Cari said, thinking she must be mad. ‘Five minutes in—’ Her mind cast around for somewhere she could possibly see him where nobody else would notice.

  Her plan for meeting Traci and Barney this evening had included ignoring them totally and sailing around in her lovely evening outfit, letting everyone see she was ignoring them.

  ‘There is a small billiards room off the bar,’ she said. ‘See you there in five minutes for five minutes.’

  She hung up and adjusted her lovely evening suit and elegant camisole. At least, she thought, she looked good. She’d got her hair newly cut, her fingernails and toenails were painted, and she’d had her eyebrows shaped.

  ‘Take that, Traci,’ she said, looking at herself in the mirror.

  The one-time love of her life was sitting in a chair in the billiards room when she walked in and he got up as if to hug her. Cari held up her hand.

  ‘Stop right there,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what you are here for, Barney, but get it over with quick.’

  ‘I’m here to tell you I love you and I’m sorry and – and it was all a mistake me and Traci and …’

  Cari sat down heavily on a chair near the door, which slammed shut behind her and she was glad of that because she didn’t really want anyone else to witness this.

  ‘So after two and a half years of no contact and you being married to someone else, you now love me and want to be with me and I’m supposed to go along with that?’ she said with a fake smile. ‘Did you get dropped on your head recently?’

  ‘I needed to tell you, tell you everything,’ Barney said, sitting down, not beside her but on the other side of the door, and letting his head hang.

  He still looked as good as ever, Cari realised, but there was something not so masculine about him, certainly compared to Conal. That louse. At least Conal hadn’t promised to marry her and love her for the rest of his life, she thought. He’d taken her to bed, made her see stars, and then left. But, still there had been no promises of forever love. And he was ten times hotter than Barney.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ said Barney. Cari looked up. Clearly Barney had been speaking all the time and she’d been thinking about Conal and, well, she was never seeing Conal again, so that was completely ridiculous but still—

  ‘I’m trying to explain what happened with Traci.’

  ‘Yes, Traci,’ said Cari. ‘Go on, what about her? She’s wildly manipulative and she wanted what I had, do I have that right?’

  ‘You have that right one hundred per cent,’ said Barney.

  ‘Why are you still married to her if she’s such a peach? We have divorce in this country, just leave her.’

  ‘It’s not that easy,’ Barney said.

  ‘Never is,’ agreed Cari, doing her bored voice. ‘What exactly do you want to tell me?’

  She looked hard at him and realised with a sense of pure joy that she was so over this man. It felt good. It wasn’t that she’d been crying in her sleep for him for the last two and a half years but his memory, his essence, had hung over her life and the way he’d left her at the altar had certainly left a dent in her psyche.

  Seeing him here, looking much less gorgeous than Conal – bastard – made her realise that she could move on even if it wasn’t with Conal. Maybe that was the trick: keep finding new men to annoy the hell out of her and eventually she’d be immune to them all. She’d have enough men antibodies in her system to deal with them.

  ‘She wasn’t pregnant at all, it took me ages to figure that one out, but she just decided she wanted to marry me and she did,’ said Barney. ‘She said she’d had a miscarriage but she didn’t.’

  ‘Barney, I used to think you were an intelligent guy,’ said Cari.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled, ‘she trapped me and …’

  ‘Trapped you in bed,’ added Cari brightly. ‘You see that’s the problem, Barney. I could understand if Traci wanted you and went after you but in order for the whole plan to work, she had to get you into bed. You were engaged to me, about to be married to me and you should have said “no thanks, keep your clothes on, Traci”, but you didn’t. You said yes. So that’s where it all falls down, this loving me schtick. I’m sorry that you found out that she’s manipulative and I’m really sorry that you don’t like being married to her, but if you want out, I would advise you to lawyer up and in the meantime, leave me alone.’

  She got to her feet and stretched. She felt good. The swim had loosened up her muscles. She smiled at Barney, who looked a bit shell-shocked that this conversation wasn’t going as planned. She wondered who else she could sort out today. She might possibly ring up Gavin in London and tell him he was a useless moron and was a hopeless editor to boot. Yes, she might do that, or was there anyone else annoying she could say smart things to.

  ‘But you don’t understand,’ begged Barney, ‘I love you.’

  Cari gave him a pitying look.

  ‘Sorry, Barney, that’s too little too late. Three years too late. I don’t love you any more.’ She was about to say, ‘I think I love someone else,’ but given that that someone else was no longer in her life, what was the point?

  ‘See you around and enjoy the party,’ she added with a little smile before slipping out of the room.

  Bess had found Amy.

  ‘I need to tell you that I’m going to be leaving Edward after the weekend,’ she said, ‘I just have to go, I can’t stay with him any more.’

  ‘Why?’ said Amy.

  ‘It’s over, this marriage is over, I must have been mad to think about it from the start. Your grandmother was right, love doesn’t happen, love is some mad concept that people have.’

  ‘No, Mum,’ groaned Amy. ‘Don’t say that just because of Jojo, she’ll come round. Mum, I’m not letting you walk out on this marriage.’

  Stunned, Bess sat down on the bed meekly and stared at her daughter in astonishment. ‘Great that you want to get involved, Amy, but it’s too late.’

  ‘Edward is a good man and he’s good for you,’ insisted Amy. ‘He’s bringing out your softer side.’

  ‘What if I don’t want my softer side brought out?’ demanded Bess.

  ‘You need it,’ said Amy. ‘I’m sorry your softer side wasn’t more in evidence when I was growing up, but I can understand why that might not have been the case.’

  ‘I failed you,’ said Bess and burst into tears.

  Amy was not used to the sight of her mother crying. But she knew their relationship had to change and now finally she had the strength, the courage and the self-belief to change it. She sat on the bed beside her mother and hugged her.

  ‘Now listen,’ Amy said, ‘I love you, we have never been very good at saying stuff like that but I do, so let’s start again, you and me, and with Jojo try and understand where she’s coming from and poor Edward too.’

  ‘So it’s poor Edward now, is it?’ said Bess. ‘I didn’t even think you liked him.’

  ‘I always liked him,’ said Amy, ‘it was just easier to stay out of your way and get on with my own life, but that’s not really a good plan is it? You need me and I’m here.’

  Bess sobbed into her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Thank you, Amy,’ she said. ‘But I still have to go. Will you be there for me …? I know I haven’t been the best mother but I can try?’

  ‘Let’s both try,’ said Amy, hugging back.

  Somehow, Bess repaired her make-up and when Edward arrived, Amy hugged her mother one more time and left.

  Bess felt so on edge that she instantly turned the television on to hide the sound of silence.

  ‘You look nice,’ she said to her husband when he was finally ready. The words sounded like a death knell in her head.
This was their last weekend together. It still hurt, would hurt for a very long time.

  ‘So do you,’ said Edward, feeling the pain in his chest. How could he tell her? How?

  He knew what he’d promised Lottie when she’d been dying but Jojo was his beloved daughter and he couldn’t turn his back on her. He needed to be there for her and if that meant giving up Bess, he would have to do that. But oh, he wanted to cry when he thought about it.

  Bess had brought so much love into his life. He adored her, loved her. How could life be this cruel, how could he lose two women he loved?

  There was a knock on Cari’s room door, and dressed but still not wearing her high heels, Cari went over to answer it. If it was Barney and he’d tracked her down to profess his love again, she would stab him. She wrenched open the door and began: ‘For the last time, Barney, get out of my life—’

  But it wasn’t Barney.

  If she had been the fainting sort of girl, she’d have fainted on the spot because standing there, wearing the most divine dinner jacket and looking as if he should be in an ad on the TV selling cognac or chocolates, was Conal.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, stunned.

  Were all her exes turning up tonight? Had a pact been made with the devil? Was Davy, the guy she’d gone out with seventeen years ago, going to roll up too and say he really loved her, even though they’d split up when he’d gone to college in Belfast, when they’d both had spots?

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Can you come in?’ she said, exasperated and outraged in equal measure. ‘Is there a new sign on my door saying “Disturb me, please!”’

  She looked up at the door: ‘No, I thought not. So why don’t you and your Milk Tray man/James Bond suit get the hell out of here. Because there is no booty call to be had here tonight.’

  ‘Nice outfit,’ said Conal, looking her up and down with those assessing eyes and totally ignoring her.

  ‘Did you not hear what I said?’ shrieked Cari, and she began to lose it. She wanted to cry, scream and hit him with her fists.

  ‘I heard all right but I was just ignoring it because I thought I’d let you get it out of your system.’

  She went for him then, fists flying and she whacked at his chest with rage. She’d never understood women who’d hit men before but now – now she got it totally. How dare Conal turn up and wreck her head after how he’d treated her before? How dare he be here and—

  He grabbed her wrists and held them easily but gently.

  ‘Easy, tiger,’ he said, ‘I deserve that and it’s totally my fault, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry.’

  Cari blinked at him, ‘Sorry? You’re saying sorry?’

  ‘I’m saying sorry, yes,’ said Conal. ‘Do other men not say sorry when they screw up?’

  ‘Not in my experience,’ snarled Cari. ‘Or if they do, they do it three years too late.’

  Somehow he’d managed to get her inside the room and he shut the door with his foot. ‘I screwed up and I’m really sorry. I missed out on the total disclosure part of our relationship.’

  ‘You got that right,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sorry. That’s all I can say, Cari: sorry I didn’t tell you all about Beatrice and the whole thing and how I don’t love her and how I love you.’

  Cari blinked.

  ‘You love me?’

  ‘That’s what I said. I love you, Cari Brannigan. Beatrice was a fling and yes she’s fabulous-looking, and hot, and women are totally threatened by her—’

  ‘I was not threatened by her!’ shrieked Cari. ‘I answered your phone and she began talking as if you’d merely left Paris with arrangements to meet her here as soon as possible for some horizontal jogging. That’s not being threatened – that’s having it made clear to you that your boyfriend is two-timing you. And I’ve done that, got the T-shirt, thank you very much!’

  ‘Apologies,’ said Conal. ‘Beatrice always talks like that. It is over between us, was over when she phoned. She is a one-dimensional woman, Beatrice-dimensional. Everything is about her – her career, her family, what she wants. It took me about a week to see we made good friends and bad lovers, but she didn’t like taking no for an answer. We broke up months ago. Ask Jeff, he knows and he would never lie to you. When I came here she kept phoning. I never asked her to come to Ireland with me, never, cross my heart. And by the way Jeff told me you whacked a guy in his cruciate ligament and got him on the floor at some awards ceremony – I need to hear about that.’

  He got down on his knees.

  ‘Do you need a knee replacement?’ she asked. ‘Or are you just hoping to escape a cruciate attack?’

  Conal laughed.

  ‘I’m not producing a box,’ he said, ‘just in case you thought I was. There is no ring hidden in these pockets, no standard Tiffany solitaire secreted about my person, so you don’t misconstrue my meaning. Not that I don’t like the idea of a Tiffany solitaire, but I don’t want to freak you out just yet. Next month a ring, though? I don’t want you getting away from me again.’

  Cari blinked again.

  ‘For real?’

  ‘For real. I just wanted to tell you I love you, and that I apologise for not telling you about Beatrice,’ Conal went on, ‘and I just thought maybe if I did it on my knees that would be better and then you could poke me in the chest with your spiky heels and you’d feel better too, because you love those damn heels, although I don’t know why. I’ll even let you bash me around the head with them.’

  Cari couldn’t help it – she started to laugh.

  ‘I’m not wearing them,’ she said and she pulled up the hem of one of her trouser legs to show him her bare foot. Then, a wicked idea hit her, so she quickly lifted her foot, put it against his chest and shoved, but it wasn’t a hard enough push and he was too strong. Instead of her knocking him over, he grabbed her ankle and suddenly she was thrown back onto the bed.

  ‘Whoof,’ she said.

  He landed heavily beside her.

  ‘At the risk of getting walked on with the heels of death for sounding chauvinistic, that’s more like it,’ he said. ‘I think you and I do our best conversing lying down.’

  ‘Spoken like someone who leaves money on the mantelpiece,’ said Cari. ‘What am I talking about? You didn’t leave money on the mantelpiece.’

  ‘I couldn’t afford you,’ he murmured. ‘You’re worth millions. No, I’m speaking as someone who is crazy about you,’ said Conal, ‘someone who screwed it up seriously in the beginning and doesn’t know how to make it up to you but keeps trying. I can’t sleep or think straight and why wouldn’t you return my calls?’

  ‘Because I have been out with enough assholes,’ said Cari.

  She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this tough act up. It was hell being beside him, hell having him try and apologise to her in her lair, so to speak, and she really wanted to put her arms around him, lean her head against his chest and tell him she’d missed him. She wanted to explain that he’d hurt her by not telling her about the beautiful, batty Beatrice, and didn’t he realise how she – she who had been dumped at the altar – would view that?

  ‘I have trust issues,’ she said quietly. ‘I need to trust you.’

  ‘You can,’ he whispered, and then he kissed her slowly. ‘Sorry,’ he said, moving away briefly and he kissed her some more until Cari put her arms around him.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘sorry, sorry, sorry. Please ask Jeff, ask my mother, ask Anna, ask Jasmine – even she knows about crazy Beatrice. And she’s only a few months old.’

  ‘She can’t talk yet, bozo,’ said Cari.

  ‘She would say: gurgle, gurgle, Beatrice crazy, gurgle, Conal loves you.’

  Cari couldn’t help it: she laughed and then he was kissing her neck, moving the jacket aside to touch the softness of her collarbone and slide the silky straps of her camisole so his tongue could lick a hot trail along her throat.

  ‘It’s OK,’ she said, her hands tangled in his air, her
mouth close to his. ‘You can stop saying sorry.’

  ‘Really?’ he said. ‘Oh good.’

  ‘Afterwards, you have to resume it again, for like, two years. Sorry, on the hour every hour.’

  ‘I can do that,’ murmured Conal. ‘But two years – just not long enough. I’ll need more time.’

  ‘OK, cowboy, I’ll look in my diary and see how long I can give you,’ Cari murmured back and wondered if anyone would mind if she was late for the party.

  Twenty-Five

  SECRETS OF A HAPPY MARRIAGE #8

  There’s magic in marriage. It can happen in a heartbeat and it runs like a river of life through your veins. It’s infinitely precious, and it needs nurturing.

  Faenia walked slowly into the Lisowen Castle restaurant and looked around for the big table.

  ‘Cool place,’ said PJ.

  ‘Yes,’ said Faenia faintly. She could barely believe she was here.

  Forty years later. Maybe it had been a mistake …

  And then she saw Edward, him first, as ever, because he was the tallest. And as if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned and looked at her and his hand went to his mouth.

  ‘Fáinne? Is it you?’

  She nodded and walked over but Edward ran over and lifted her off her feet.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ said Edward, holding on to Faenia as if letting go of her hands might mean she would run away again for another forty years.

  ‘You just vanished and I tried looking for you.’

  ‘I knew you would,’ she said, ‘I just had to get away.’

  ‘But why?’ said Mick. Faenia turned to look at the brother nearest in age to herself. She could still see the young scamp and his lovely face and those kind eyes.

  Thank goodness he’d married Nora, gorgeous Nora, who still didn’t give a damn about what sort of old dress she had thrown on because Nora’s white hair was sticking up like a brush, she was wearing a necklace with pretty shiny stones in it that someone else must have given her and earrings that didn’t match at all, and she was beaming at Faenia.

  Faenia beamed back. She’d missed them all so much. Why had it taken her so long to come back?