The bitterness behind the words stunned Suzy. Poor Katherine. She wasn’t cold and detached at all. She’d suffered as much as Suzy. Only she didn’t show it to the world.
‘I’m sorry for what you had to endure, Mrs Wallace. I never realised . . .’ Suzy’s voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say.
‘It’s all right, dear. We’re all given our crosses to bear. It’s the way we bear them that matters. I made myself a martyr. Because I accepted what he did to me, my husband never had to face up to the consequences of his selfish, irresponsible behaviour. By appearing to condone his unfaithfulness, by allowing him to continue to have affairs and by giving him the easy option of staying at home, I did us all a great disservice. Jeffrey included. My children grew up thinking infidelity was acceptable. Christopher has been unfaithful to you. He sees no great wrong in it. If I had taken a different path and made his father leave, he wouldn’t have seen the pattern continue. He would have learned the hard way that such behaviour is unacceptable. Things might have been different for him and you.’ Katherine looked very sad.
Suzy reached out and patted her hand awkwardly.
Katherine gripped her hand tightly. ‘Suzy, don’t follow my path,’ she urged fiercely. ‘Do this for yourself. If you don’t, you won’t be any good to them.’ She indicated the lounge where the twins were. ‘Because of what Jeffrey did to me, I shut down all my feelings. I buried all my anger. I looked after my children, certainly. But I didn’t nurture them. Because I couldn’t. There was no room for nurturing. No room for softness in my heart. How could there be when it was filled with rage? I was a bad mother, Suzy, and there’s nothing I can do about it now except try to help you learn from my mistakes,’ Katherine said vehemently.
‘Because Chris is your son, I thought you’d take his side.’ Suzy sighed. ‘It’s such a relief to hear this.’
‘Christopher is my son, yes. And perhaps he turned out the way he did because of the way I reared him. Because of what he saw happen between Jeffrey and me. I can’t deny that. But I don’t condone his behaviour. He’s my son. I love him. But I don’t like him – if you can understand that.’
‘I know he’s the twins’ father and he should be with them but I can’t stand even to be in the same room as him. I feel so . . . so revolted!’ Suzy burst out. ‘If it had been anyone but Alexandra. She was supposed to be my best friend.’
‘That’s a double betrayal. At least I never suffered that. I’m very sorry for you, Suzy. I’m very sorry that a son of mine could stoop so low.’ Pink stained Katherine’s cheeks.
‘It’s not your fault, Mrs Wallace.’ Suzy bit her lip to try and prevent herself from crying. ‘It’s just everyone keeps saying he should be with the children for Christmas and I really don’t want him here.’
‘Of course you don’t! People find it very easy to pontificate. They can never understand until they’ve gone through it. Then it’s a different kettle of fish,’ Katherine declared crossly. A glint came into her eye.
‘This is just a suggestion, dear. Maybe you might mull it over. Instead of Christopher spending time here, maybe the twins could go and spend some time with him.’
‘Oh, Alexandra’d have a fit. She’s not good with children. They drive her mad.’ Suzy shook her head regretfully.
‘All the better. Exactly what she needs,’ Katherine said calmly.
Suzy’s eyes widened.
‘Oh! I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘I had to go into hospital once when the children were young. I was there for a month. Jeffrey had to look after them. His lady friend of the time wasn’t at all pleased. She couldn’t stand children. It was the end of that great romance. Of course he had more affairs. But I felt immense satisfaction when that particular liaison ended,’ Katherine admitted. ‘You go away and have a few nice days of peace and quiet for yourself and let Christopher and Madam Johnston get on with it. That’s my advice if you want it. Now I really must go. I’m going to a cocktail party later on and I haven’t even decided what to wear yet.’ She leaned over and gave Suzy a quick peck on the cheek. ‘I won’t wish you a happy Christmas, Suzy, that would be insensitive. Just do the best you can, dear. You have my number.’
‘Mrs Wallace, thank you very, very much.’ Suzy was overwhelmed.
‘For what?’ the older woman asked wryly. ‘For advice that I never followed myself? Hold your head high, dear. And be true to yourself.’ Katherine walked out of the kitchen and peeped into the lounge.
‘Goodbye, twins. When you come back from your holidays I’ll get Mummy to bring you over to my house for tea.’
‘Thanks, Gran,’ Christina rushed over and gave Katherine a hug. Adam stood with his finger in his mouth. He wasn’t as affectionate as his sibling. In fact Suzy was lucky to get a hug from him herself.
‘Thanks, Gran. I might give you a kiss the next time I see you. Sometimes I don’t give hugs. ’Cos I’m a boy,’ he explained.
‘Is this a Wallace speaking?’ Katherine remarked, eyebrows arched, as she made for the door.
Suzy laughed in spite of herself.
She stood watching her mother-in-law drive off. Who would have believed that toffee-nosed Katherine Wallace had such humanity in her? And to come up with that brilliant brainwave of landing the twins on Alexandra. That was out of this world, it was so clever.
Alexandra would go spare.
Suzy took a deep breath. She felt renewed. She had an ally. Someone who had made her feel it was all right to be angry. It was as though Katherine had given her permission to be herself. She wasn’t a bad mother. She didn’t have to pretend. She wasn’t going to suffer any more than she had to, because of Chris’s behaviour. And the icing on the cake, Alexandra was going to have a miserable few days with two lively toddlers under her feet. Suzy hoped against hope that she’d be home from her trip to London. Today was turning out far better than it had started out.
‘Twins? How would you like to go on two holidays? One with Mummy and one with Daddy?’
‘A holiday. Two of them. Yippee!’ Christina was delighted.
Adam nodded cautiously.
‘Daddy will bring you to the zoo and the circus. And the panto,’ Suzy encouraged. ‘Wouldn’t you like that?’
‘Yes, please, Mummy.’
‘Let’s go ring him then.’ Smiling, she picked up the phone to tell Chris the good news.
‘What?’ Chris couldn’t believe his ears. Suzy was backing down. She’d just said he was right after all. It was important that he spend time with the children over Christmas. A broad grin creased his face. He knew she’d come to her senses. Now he’d have two options to choose from. Just in case his plan didn’t work out with Ellen. What a relief, life was starting to look rosy again.
‘I’ll come home Christmas Eve.’ He stretched out on the sofa and took a slug of his whiskey and soda.
‘No, no, we’re going away, Chris. I told you that,’ Suzy said calmly. ‘You can have the kids on the twenty-seventh. I’ll drop them over. You can have them for a week.’
Chris shot up from the sofa almost spilling his drink. ‘What do you mean you’ll drop them over? They can’t stay here,’ he protested, aghast. This wasn’t going to plan at all.
‘But I thought you wanted to be with them?’ Suzy said innocently. ‘They’re looking forward to spending time with Daddy. I’ve told them they’re going on two holidays. One with you and one with me. They’re dying to talk to you,’ Suzy said sweetly.
He wanted to throttle her. She must be going for a few days away with her new lover. That was why she was dumping the kids on him. What other reason was there?
‘Listen . . . I’m not having that,’ he blustered.
‘Hello, Daddy.’ Christina was on the other end, bubbling with excitement. ‘We’re coming to stay with you. Mummy says you’re going to bring us to the panto and the zoo and the circus. An’ Daddy, can I bring my dolly? An’ can—’
‘It’s my go.’
Chris could hear
the twins arguing. What was all this about zoos and pantos and circuses?
‘Hello, Daddy? Daddy, I miss you.’
Chris’s heart softened at Adam’s forlorn tone.
‘I miss you too.’
‘Well, I’ll send us over for our holidays soon. And I’ll bring my dumper truck to show you,’ Adam promised.
‘Good boy,’ Chris said weakly. ‘Put me on to Mummy.’
‘Now listen, Suzy. I can’t land two kids on Alexandra—’
‘Not only are you taking them for a few days after Christmas, darling. But come the New Year you can take them every second weekend. You’re absolutely right. They need their father. And it’s selfish of me not to accept that. Alexandra will just have to get used to it. But I’m sure that won’t be a problem if she really loves you,’ Suzy pointed out reasonably. ‘Bye, Chris. I’ll be in touch.’
Chris was speechless. He’d made such a song and dance about his right to see the kids that he couldn’t very well backtrack without losing face. She’d been really cunning, telling them first that they were going to stay with him. Obviously they were looking forward to it. How on earth could he get out of it?
Alexandra would freak! She didn’t like children. They irritated her. If he announced the twins were coming to stay there’d be murder. Tough! He was paying half the rent on the apartment, he was entitled to have his kids to stay.
He wanted to strangle Suzy. He felt utterly out of control. Impotent. She was calling all the shots! He was thoroughly sick of her. How could he get her out of his life? And he’d noted her sly little dig at the end about how, if Alexandra really loved him, she’d put up with the children.
Well, the day was coming when Suzy’d really suffer. Now she’d never get him back no matter how hard she tried. She was going to end up a bitter, vindictive, lonely woman and he’d be as happy as Larry. She’d be sorry. He’d a plan up his sleeve that would pull the rug right from under her feet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘What do you bet that’s Mother!’ Ellen scowled as the phone rang in The Deli. Sheila was driving her nuts. It was the Monday before Christmas, the day of the guild lunch and she’d phoned her twice already.
‘Hello, The Deli.’ Her tone had an edge.
‘Ellen, I just wanted to check one thing.’ Sheila sounded agitated. Ellen threw her eyes up to heaven and made a ferocious face. Denise and Miriam started giggling.
‘Yes, Mam. You know I’m really up to my eyes.’
‘I know that. I was just wondering whether you put plenty of sherry in the trifle. The last day trip we were on, The Gourmet Daly,’ Sheila’s voice dripped scorn, ‘ordered trifle for dessert and when she tasted it she said at the top of her voice, if you don’t mind, “They must have stood in the next room when they were pouring the sherry!” Can you credit that? I don’t want her to have any excuse for that sort of smart-alec talk today. And make sure all your salt and pepper pots are full. She got one that was empty and we had to listen to her moaning for the duration of the meal. Oh and one other thing – when you’re making the gravy add in some sherry for extra flavour.’
‘Yes, Mam. It will all be taken care of. Now I’m going. I’m needed in the kitchen. Goodbye.’ She hung up and turned to the girls. ‘For crying out loud!!!’
‘What’s wrong now?’
‘Bonnie bleedin’ Daly will be the death of me. I’m to make sure there’s enough sherry in the trifle so she won’t make disparaging remarks about how far away I was when I poured it in. And I’m to make sure the pepper pots and salt cellars are all full! And I’m to add some sherry to the gravy for extra flavour.’ Ellen was fit to be tied.
‘Just think of all the new customers we’ll get,’ Denise soothed.
‘It’s not worth it,’ Ellen moaned. ‘I’ll never make old age. I’ll be dead of stress before I’m forty! But I’ll tell you one thing, girls. If I go I’m taking Bonnie Daly with me. If she says one word out of place I’ll tell her to stuff the parson’s nose where it hurts. And then I’ll crown her. That’s if I don’t take to the sherry first myself.’
‘No, let’s get her pissed,’ Denise said wickedly. ‘We’ll pour extra sherry into her portion of trifle and keep topping up her glass. Imagine if she had to be carried out.’
‘Well, you know she hasn’t got a head for alcohol at all – one glass and she’s singing. Do you remember that party of Mam’s, Miriam, when I was expecting Stephanie? She and Mam were still friends. Will you ever forget her singing “This is my Lovely Day”? And that was after one glass of sherry.’ Ellen laughed.
‘Ah now, Ellen, she’s elderly,’ Miriam demurred.
‘That doesn’t excuse bad manners,’ Ellen riposted.
‘I’d love to hear Bonnie Daly singing “This is my Lovely Day”.’ Denise was game.
‘And you will, my dear. You will,’ Ellen retorted. Elderly or not, Bonnie had been a thorn in her side for too long.
The next few hours were hectic as the trio prepared lunch and attended to normal business. At half eleven, Miriam and Ellen went upstairs to set the tables. They pulled the tables from the banquettes and made one long table along the windows. They had seasonal red and green mats and napkins. Denise had arranged floral displays which looked very pretty. Red candles added a festive touch. Ellen had bought a box of twenty-four crackers in Arnott’s, in red, green and gold, and they complemented the colours on the table. It looked very elegant when they were finished.
‘Definitely as nice as the Glenree Arms.’ Ellen straightened a soup spoon.
‘Nicer!’ Miriam declared. ‘The Arms could do with a coat of paint inside. It’s gone a bit shabby. Come on, we’d better get a move on. We’ve to do the prawn cocktails.’
The prawn cocktails, with their dusting of paprika, were in place when Sheila arrived to inspect.
‘Very nice, very nice indeed,’ she proclaimed as she surveyed the table. Sheila was dressed in her new mauve twinset and navy pleated skirt. Her hair had been permed for the occasion and she wore her best pearls.
‘Now, Ellen, I’ve bought a big box of chocolates for afterwards. Mick has them next door. And I’ve a little book of tickets. We’ll have the draw for the president’s prize after the meal. It’s a bottle of whiskey, a turkey and a ham. Would you get the chocolates and whiskey from Mick, like a good girl?’
‘Right, Mam.’ Ellen bit down her irritation. She had enough to be doing without running last-minute errands. She hurried downstairs and out of The Deli. Her father chuckled when he saw her.
‘You look harassed. Has the ordeal started?’
‘You could say that,’ Ellen said wryly. ‘I’ve to collect the chocolates and the whiskey. She’ll be lucky if I don’t drink it first.’
‘Stay calm, Ellen. You’ll be grand. If the smell is anything to go by. My mouth is watering every time I go out the back. How is it cooking? It should be a nice bird. I picked it specially. It was a twenty-four-pounder.’
‘It’s cooking fine. I’ll plate you up a dinner and you can have it upstairs in the flat if you like,’ Ellen offered.
‘You’re a peach, Ellen. I’d love it. I’m dying for a bit of turkey. Would you give me a wing and a slice of the leg?’ Mick rubbed his hands.
‘I’ll give you half a leg and a wing and a sliver of breast if I can spare it. And I’ll give you some crispy streaky rashers off the top.’
‘Don’t say anything to your mother, though. She made up a meatloaf for me at home,’ Mick warned.
‘I won’t say a word,’ Ellen promised.
‘What kept you?’ Sheila asked tartly when Ellen returned five minutes later. Her mother had taken up a stand at the door.
‘Dad was busy.’
‘I’d like you to greet everyone when they arrive.’
‘Mam, I have to help out in the kitchen. I can’t stand at the door for the next half-hour.’
‘Well, it would be good manners!’ Sheila retorted huffily. ‘Ah, Tilly, welcome.’ She turned on her presidential s
mile as the first guest arrived.
‘Hello, Mrs Doyle,’ Ellen said politely.
‘Something smells nice,’ Tilly Doyle sniffed appreciatively.
‘I hope so. Would you like a glass of sherry, Mrs Doyle? On the house.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Ellen. I’d love one.’
‘Mam?’
‘Well, seeing as it’s the occasion that it is, I’ll partake.’ Sheila was gracious.
‘Excuse me a minute. If you’d like to go on upstairs I’ll bring them up to you.’
Three more ladies arrived just then and they were all agreeable to a glass of sherry. Ellen hastened to do the honours. She filled a tray with sherry glasses and poured in the amber liquid, hoping she wouldn’t slop them. Bonnie was just arriving.
‘Ah, Bonnie.’ Sheila was regal. ‘A glass of sherry?’
‘Well, maybe I’ll just have a mineral,’ Bonnie said stiffly. She was done up to the nines in a Paisley print dress. She wore her best hat for the occasion.
‘For goodness’ sake, Bonnie, have a sherry and stop your nonsense. A mineral indeed!’ Lizzie Regan snorted, as they all went upstairs.
‘Let me take your coat, Mrs Daly,’ Ellen murmured, as she laid the drinks on a table.
‘Thank you, Ellen.’ Bonnie was not at all impressed with Lizzie.
‘Here, get that into you,’ Lizzie proffered a glass.
‘If you insist,’ Bonnie clipped, but she took the glass and took a dainty sip.
Ellen hurried downstairs with the coats.
‘Ellen, get in here quick.’ Denise poked her head out of the kitchen.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ellen’s heart sank at the look of dismay on her friend’s face.
‘The arse fell out of the turkey when we were trying to get it out of the roasting-dish. There was too much stuffing in it,’ Denise whispered.
‘Oh crikey,’ Ellen groaned. It had all been going too smoothly to be true.
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