Mirror, Mirror

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Mirror, Mirror Page 40

by Patricia Scanlan


  ‘Do you really love me?’

  Shenodded.Hewaseasytoloverightthen.‘Come on, it’s going to rain and I should be getting back. I’m having Miriam and Ben and the gang to tea.’

  ‘You will think about it, won’t you?’ Chris ran his fingers through his hair and tried to compose himself. ‘We could be really happy.’

  ‘Come on, Chris. Let’s go,’ Ellen said wearily. A week ago she’d been happy and contented. Now she was up in a heap. The dream she’d dreamed for many years was hers for the taking. But now she wasn’t sure that she wanted it.

  ‘What do you mean they’re resigning?’ Malachy MacDonald barked down the phone at Ron Evans.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mister MacDonald, to have to be the bearer of bad news. I hope I haven’t spoiled your holiday,’ Ron Evans wittered down the line, like the unctuous, toadying little Uriah Heep that he was, especially when it came to dealing with the chairman.

  ‘Sack ’em. Sack the fucking ungrateful bitches, I say, and don’t give ’em a fucking farthing,’ Malachy swore.

  ‘I can’t,’ Ron bleated. ‘They’ve handed in official letters of resignation and—’

  ‘You’re hopeless, fucking hopeless, Evans. That bitch Johnston was right. You are a Mickey Mouse accountant who could do with a jet-propelled rocket up your arse. You couldn’t manage a teddy bear’s fucking picnic!’ Malachy slammed down the phone in fury.

  He’d taken a few days off after Christmas and left that gobshite Evans in charge. And on his first day . . . his first day . . . two staff members had resigned to take up positions elsewhere.

  It was the where they were taking up the positions that was getting right up his nose. That walking bitch. That foul-mouthed, unwomanly, sly, two-faced, amoral, unethical tramp, Alexandra Johnston, was going to be Arthur Reynolds’s personal PR woman and she was stealing two of Malachy’s staff, right from under his nose. It was unheard of.

  She wasn’t down and out. She’d landed on her goddamn feet. It was bad enough having her sending blackmailing, contemptuous, ill-mannered letters – no one had ever told him to bugger off before – but to know she had swiped the plum from under his nose! It was enough to trigger an attack of gout!

  Crimson with temper, Malachy poured himself a generous whiskey. Tonight he was going to get rat-arsed. And if his hag of a wife didn’t like it, tough!

  ‘I want you out of here by the end of the week, Chris.’

  ‘What!’ Chris stared at Alexandra in disbelief.

  ‘But how are you going to manage to pay the rent?’

  ‘Never you mind. That’s my problem, not yours.’

  ‘Have you met someone else? Is that it? Have you been seeing someone behind my back?’ Chris ranted.

  ‘Oh, cut the crap, Chris. As it happens I’ve got a marvellous job. I’m Arthur Reynolds’s new personal PR. I’ll have my own team . . . hand-picked by moi. And I’ve got a salary that would make your eyes water,’ Alexandra couldn’t resist boasting. ‘So, it was nice while it lasted but c’est la vie, baby.’

  ‘You sneaky bitch. I’ll go when I’m ready to leave and not before.’ Chris was rabid.

  ‘The end of the week, Chris,’ Alexandra warned. ‘And have those kids out of here tomorrow.’ She swanned out the front door. She was going out celebrating with Karen Finlay and Sarah O’Malley. Her hand-picked team, from her old firm.

  Ron Evans had spent an hour in the loo, Karen had gleefully informed Alexandra, when she and then Sarah had resigned after Alexandra had phoned them to offer them the new positions.

  Alexandra was delighted with the news. Ron Evans would need to spend all his time on the loo by the time she was finished with him.

  Tonight, though, the first members of The Stuart and Stuart’s Survivors’ Club were having its inaugural meeting in the Burlington. And not even Chris and his whingeing brats could spoil it for her. He’d be out of her hair soon enough. She wouldn’t miss him in the slightest. He was far too selfish for her taste. All he ever thought about was himself.

  Alexandra sat in her car. She was going to trade it in for a new one this very week, she decided happily.

  She couldn’t wait to tell all the movers and shakers at the bar in the Burlington her splendid news. It would be the talk of every dinner party of the season. And how Alexandra loved to be the talk of the town.

  This was serious. He was in deep shit! Chris’s heart raced as he poured himself a stiff brandy. Alexandra was kicking him out. So much for loyalty, he thought viciously. She’d used him to pay the rent. That was all he meant to her, the scummy cow. Now that she could afford it herself, he was out on his ear. She was the one who’d seduced him from his wife in the first place. She’d invited him to dinner. She’d caused all of this and now she was dumping him. A man wouldn’t behave so crassly. She was a ball-breaker of the highest order.

  What the fuck was he going to do? Chris paced the lounge. He wasn’t at all sure about Ellen. When he’d started crying in the Botanic Gardens, they’d been genuine tears. And tears of pure panic. He’d felt so sorry for himself. So unsure. Especially when Ellen had said there was another man in her life. That had really got to him. She couldn’t possibly love that bearded plank more than she loved him. That was unthinkable. The very idea brought tears to his eyes again. God! She had to take him back, she just had to.

  ‘Daddy, I’ve a pain in my tummy.’ Adam stood bleary-eyed at the door. Chris rubbed his damp eyes.

  ‘Adam, go to bed,’ he said wearily.

  ‘I want Mummy,’ Adam bawled and then puked all over Alexandra’s shag-pile rug.

  ‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ Chris swore. This was all he bloody needed. He’d a good mind to leave the mess there and let Alexandra clean it up. It would be good enough for her. Adam was howling for his mother. Christina had just joined in. Chris felt like sitting down and bawling himself.

  ‘Hello, Ellen, Katherine Wallace here. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right. And that yesterday’s meeting with Christopher didn’t upset you or Stephanie too much. I tried to call you earlier but there was no answer. You’ve been on my mind, dear.’

  ‘I was out, Mrs Wallace,’ Ellen said guiltily. Glad beyond measure that the other woman couldn’t see her red face.

  ‘Well, I am sorry about yesterday. It was most unfortunate. Since Chris has started living with that dreadful woman, he’s taken to calling in unexpectedly. I think they have rows and he wants to get out from under her feet,’ Katherine confided.

  Ellen felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Sorry, Mrs Wallace. I’m a little confused. I thought Chris lived in a flat.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not a flat, my dear, Madam Johnston would have a fit if you called her luxury apartment a flat.’

  Ellen could practically hear Mrs Wallace’s nostrils flaring contemptuously.

  ‘Is she the woman Chris is living with now?’ Ellen strove to keep her voice from shaking.

  ‘Yes, but it won’t last. Too close to the bone,’ Katherine sniffed.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well. Suzy’s best friend and all that. Very distasteful. I know I shouldn’t say this about my own son, but my dear, although you may not think so, you had a lucky escape.’

  ‘I think I realise that.’ Ellen shook her head in disbelief. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the phone.

  ‘Well, just once again, Ellen, I do apologise. And I’ll make very sure it doesn’t happen again when you visit.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Wallace. I would appreciate that,’ Ellen said quietly. ‘We had a lovely time yesterday and thank you for your kindness.’

  ‘It was my pleasure entirely. Goodnight, Ellen.’

  Ellen put the phone down. She was shaking like a leaf. The liar! The out-and-out conniving, manipulating, calculating liar! And she’d been feeling sorry for him. For one mad moment she’d actually considered his proposal! He’d never change. Never. He was the biggest user she’d ever known.

  She didn’t feel betrayed. She didn’t feel hurt
. She felt angry. Damn angry. Angrier than she’d ever been in her life. Tomorrow she was going to have it out with Chris once and for all. This day had been coming a long, long time. It would be a day of reckoning like no other!

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘So when were you going to tell me, Chris? When were you going to tell me that you’d left Suzy because you were having an affair with her best friend? That you’re living with her!’ Ellen was so angry she was trembling.

  ‘For God’s sake, keep your voice down. I don’t want my secretary to hear.’ Chris stood up from behind his desk, stunned.

  Ellen had just barged in like a madwoman.

  ‘I don’t give a tuppenny damn about your secretary. Why did you tell me all those lies about leaving Suzy because you loved me and you couldn’t live with her any more? Why did you want to come back to me if you’re having an affair with this woman?’

  ‘It means nothing. Honestly, Ellen. I’m telling you,’ Chris pleaded earnestly. He sat down and rubbed his eyes wearily. He’d had no sleep last night and he was shagged. ‘I’m telling you, once and for all, Ellen, Alexandra means nothing to me. It was just a fling.’

  ‘Don’t say that. Don’t demean that woman like that,’ Ellen raged. ‘How can you say that about someone you’re sleeping with? Is that all it is to you? Lust? Did you say things like that about me to Suzy? How can you treat human beings the way you do? Are you really that callous? Are you really that calculating? How can you tell lies to people the way you do? How can you look people in the eye and lie to their face? Don’t you ever feel guilty about what you do to people, or is it just water off a duck’s back to you? Are you really so unfeeling, Chris, that you just use people as it suits you, no matter what hurt and pain you cause them? Do you ever think of how many people’s lives you’ve damaged because you’re such a selfish fucking bastard?’

  Chris sat through her tirade with his head bowed, shoulders hunched in a typical Poor-Misunderstood-Me pose.

  Ellen looked at him in disgust.

  ‘You know, I’ve always given you the benefit of the doubt. I’ve made excuses for you left, right and centre. I’ve said that somewhere in the depths of that thoroughly self-centred being there has to be some spark of decency. I even kidded myself that you loved me and Stephanie. But this time, Chris, I have to finally admit it, I’ve been badly misguided all these years. I’ve made a huge error of judgement because I’m the biggest fool going. You’re rotten through and through and I despise you. You’re an out-and-out liar and I hope and pray with all my heart that Stephanie hasn’t any of you in her because if she has, I fear for my child.’

  Ellen leaned over the desk and pointed her finger in his face. ‘Now this is the last time I’m ever going to see or speak to you again, Chris Wallace. Get out of my life and stay out of it and forget about having anything to do with Stephanie. She’s better off without a father if you’re all that’s there for her. I wouldn’t let her be contaminated by the likes of you.’

  Chris jumped to his feet, furious. ‘When did you become a saint then, Ellen? What the fuck are you so holier than thou about? You’ve a short memory, haven’t you? You had sex with me when we weren’t married. And we all know that’s a big bad sin. Then you had an affair with me when you knew I was married. Where were your goddamn morals then? There are different ways of telling lies, you know. There’s such a thing as lies of omission. And you were pretty good at lying to yourself too. Your behaviour was as damaging to Suzy as mine was! And don’t forget I didn’t make you have sex with me. It was your own choice. Do you think you’re setting a good example to my daughter by screwing around with that bogman of yours? Don’t you dare lecture me about my faults. You’ve plenty of your own. And let’s hope Stephanie hasn’t inherited any of those.’

  ‘How dare you, Chris,’ Ellen said through gritted teeth. ‘How dare you! Doug and I are not screwing around. You’re the lowest of the low—’

  ‘Yeah, I know, I’m a liar and a cheat and I’ve no morals . . . spare me. I’ve heard it all before. I am what I am, Ellen. You told me you loved me once. Well, you didn’t. You loved what you wanted me to be. So did Suzy. Funnily enough, Alexandra for all her faults was the only one who took me for what I am. But you know, no one’s ever really loved me. Not you. Not Suzy. Not my mother. So get off your high horse.’

  ‘That’s right, Chris, do what you do best. Justify it to yourself. Blame everyone else. And feel really sorry for yourself. No one does it better. You’re a master at it. I feel sorry for you. You can’t even be honest with yourself.’

  Ellen turned and walked out of his office, angrier than she’d ever been in her life.

  Chris was shaking. He’d blown it big-time. How the hell had Ellen found out about Alexandra? It was too late for him now. This really was the end. What was he going to do? He was practically homeless. Suzy’d have to let him move back home. There was nowhere else. He picked up the phone and dialled her number on the off-chance that she’d be there. She was.

  ‘It’s me, Suzy. I’ll be coming home tonight with the kids. We can’t stay at Alexandra’s any longer. She’s fucked me out,’ he snarled. It was best to go on the offensive straight away.

  ‘What do you mean she’s fucked you out?’ Suzy demanded.

  ‘She’s got a big new job as Arthur Reynolds’s PR woman and she doesn’t need me to pay the rent any more. She wants the kids out of the apartment. So whether you like it or not, we’re coming home.’

  ‘Correction,’ Suzy snapped icily. ‘They’re coming home. You can get lost. Go and get yourself a flat. You’re not crawling back here again.’ Suzy slammed the phone down. Chris stared at the phone in horror. Get a flat! Him! What the hell would he be able to afford? A bedsit in Rathmines was the best he’d be able to manage by the time he’d paid for Suzy to live in their mansion.

  He really was up the creek, he thought in panic. She’d shop him to the taxman if he made trouble. Alexandra had turfed him out on his ear. Ellen loathed him. What had he done to deserve this torment?

  Chris Wallace buried his head in his hands, a bowed and broken man.

  Suzy was shivering. She was so angry she thought she was going to burst a blood vessel. Chris had the nerve . . . the nerve to expect her to let him back home because Alexandra had given him the boot. Just what did he think she was . . . a doormat?

  That wasn’t the way it was supposed to have ended. He was supposed to finish it with Alexandra.

  Maybe – and it was an exceedingly small maybe – if he had given Alexandra the shove she might have considered letting him back. That would have been one in the eye for her erstwhile friend. But not this way. Never this way. He could sink or swim now as far as Suzy was concerned.

  And what was all that about Alexandra getting a job as Arthur Reynolds’s PR? How had she wangled that? It was absolutely infuriating. Beyond belief, even. She was supposed to be on her knees. Never to rise again. It wasn’t fair. Suzy had wanted that bitch to live unhappily ever after. Now it looked as though she was on the rise again. And going to rise even higher. That job was prestigious. Arthur Reynolds had the highest profile in town. And Alexandra Johnston would be swanning around at his side. It was too much to take in. She’d won!

  Unhappier than she’d ever been in her life, Suzy burst into tears.

  Ellen pulled up outside the flat. Stephanie was over in Denise’s playing with Lisa and Michelle. She’d make herself a cup of tea and calm down before she went to collect her.

  She let herself in and closed the door behind her. It was good to be home in her own place. She was drained. All her anger spent. Everything she’d ever wanted to say to Chris Wallace had been said today. She’d never make a fool of herself over him again. It was finally over.

  She didn’t hate him. He was too contemptible for hatred. She pitied him. He had no one. He’d lie his way from relationship to relationship. And he’d end up a sad, lonely old man, blaming everyone else for his misfortunes. Unable even to look at himself in t
he mirror and see himself for what he was.

  Ellen took off her coat and walked slowly upstairs. She felt as though she’d been on a long, long journey. He’d got really dirty when his back was to the wall. Accusing her of adultery and screwing around with Doug. She had taken him back knowing that he was married. That had been a big mistake. Maybe her actions had damaged his wife. That was a guilt she had to accept and live with. Ellen too had been culpable. Closing her eyes to what she didn’t want to see. She didn’t feel good about it. She had to accept her part of the blame.

  Ellen sat down tiredly at her kitchen table. Now, because of her stupidity, she could have lost the best chance for happiness she’d ever have. Would Doug take her back? What should she do? Phone him? Go to his house? She didn’t know. Would he take her out to celebrate New Year’s Eve, as he’d promised?

  How could she expect him to take her back after the way she’d treated him? He might think she was using him.

  ‘Oh Munroe, you fool, you fool,’ she muttered. Heartsick.

  It was New Year’s Eve. Doug knotted his new tie and smoothed some aftershave over his neatly trimmed beard. It was Stephanie’s aftershave. It smelt good.

  He’d waited to hear from Ellen since Sunday but not a peep. She couldn’t have taken that swine back! But what other reason was there for her silence? Ellen didn’t hold grudges. If it was just a row they’d be talking by now. There must be more to it.

  He was going to call on her anyway. He was going to take one last chance on their relationship. Tonight he was going to ask her to marry him and get an answer from her once and for all. At least he’d know where he stood.

  He picked up the jacket of his suit and shrugged himself into it. It was do or die. And he had no idea what way the dice was going to roll.

  Ellen sprayed Laughter onto her wrists and then traced some Coral Dawn lipstick over her lips. Her heart was pittering uncontrollably. Her mouth dry with anticipation. She wore her best dress, a crushed velvet, slim-fitting black dress with a sweetheart neckline. Doug’s cross and chain lay nestled in the creamy curve of her breasts. She knew without vanity that she looked her very best. Ellen hadn’t told Miriam or her parents about the row with Doug. Stephanie had gone to sleep at Sheila’s as planned. She was alone. Waiting. Palms damp. Would Doug call for her or was it over between them?

 

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