by Melissa Hill
Well, that was it. She’d get Nellie her precious biscuits and then she was going to bed. She’d talk to Shane in the morning. This time she’d definitely have it out with him. Definitely.
Without-a--Doubt.
The next morning Karen awoke with a start, and opened her eyes. What was Shane doing banging around in the kitchen, so early on a Saturday morning? She looked groggily at the alarm clock display. It was eight-thirty. Which actually meant eight o’clock – a.m..
Then she felt movement beside her in the bed. It obviously wasn’t Shane making all the noise – he was still asleep. Karen hadn’t heard him come in the night before.
Then she sat up in the bed, remembering. Nellie!
“Shane. Wake up, will you?” she said, elbowing him none-too-gently in the ribs.
“Whah? What time is it?” Shane asked sleepily, through half-opened eyes.
“It’s eight o’clock, that’s what time it is,” Karen hissed. She couldn’t believe that, not content with ruining her evening, now Nellie was trying to intrude on her precious Saturday mornings too. Why wouldn’t the woman just go home?
“Aw, great – smells like she’s making a fry-up,” Shane said, now fully awake, sitting up in the bed and sniffing the air.
“Well, what in God’s name is she doing making a fry-up in our house, at this hour on a Saturday morning?” Karen asked, incredulous at Nellie’s behaviour. Did she not tell her to stop interfering last night?
“Calm down, Karen – it’s no big deal. I know it’s early – but Mam always gets up early, no matter what day it is.” He threw back the duvet and got out of bed. “Aw – this is brilliant.” He pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I haven’t had one of Mam’s fry-ups in ages, and I’m absolutely starving.” Rubbing his hands with glee, off he went downstairs, completely oblivious to Karen’s indignation.
She sank back down in the bed and pulled the covers over her head. Let Shane have breakfast with his mammy all he wanted, she fumed. But there was no way she was getting up at this unearthly hour. She closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep.
A few minutes later, she heard Nellie shout loudly from downstairs.
“Karen, love – stop lolling around in bed, and hurry up. Your breakfast is nearly ready.”
Karen sat bolt upright on the bed. The cheek of Nellie Quinn, ordering her around like she was a ten-year-old – and in her own house too! Well, she could go sing – Karen would stay in bed for as long as she wanted. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs, and Shane stuck his head around the bedroom door.
“Karen,” he said delightedly, “you should see the place downstairs – it’s like a palace. She must have been up since six this morning, hovering and polishing. Now neither of us have to do a tap over the weekend – isn’t it brilliant?”
She resisted the urge to throw a pillow at his grinning face. Why didn’t Nellie’s actions bother him – or why couldn’t he see that they were really bothering her? Didn’t Shane feel any way possessive about his own home? Or was it perfectly reasonable to him that his mother could just arrive in, and change things around as she pleased?
“Shane, I’m not getting up until she’s gone – alright?” she said, letting her head fall back hard on the pillow.
“What?” Shane looked puzzled. “But you’re awake now – and she’s cooked breakfast for us.”
“I don’t care.” Karen turned her head away from him, towards the wall. “I don’t think it’s right that your mother is wandering around our house like it’s her own, and I certainly don’t think it’s right that you gave her a key without consulting me first.”
“What? But how else was she supposed to get in when none of us are here?” Shane asked, completely missing the point.
Karen sat up and turned around again to face him, her eyes flashing. “Why should she get in when none of us are here, Shane? This is our house – not a stopover point for your family’s little trips down to Dublin.” Her voice shook.
“I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about,” Shane said, lowering his voice and looking towards the door, afraid that Nellie might hear them. “In fact, you seem to get worked up about everything these days, always giving out about something – what the hell is wrong with you?”
Karen was livid. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to turn the tables on her, and make it seem as though she was the one that was being unreasonable.
“Just feck off, Shane,” was all she could think of in response. “Feck off downstairs to your mother.”
“Fine. I will!” Shane said, turning back towards the door. “But whatever your problem is, Karen, you’d better sort it out soon. I don’t know what’s going on with you these days.”
He couldn’t even bring himself to slam the door behind him, she thought sourly. He was too afraid that he might upset Mommy Dearest. Realising suddenly that she desperately needed to use the toilet, Karen got out of bed, opened the door and tip-toed across to the bathroom. She could hear Nellie telling Shane how she had to go out this morning to buy sausages and rashers, because there was nothing in the fridge. “Only a scrap of milk.” she trilled. “I can’t understand how you young ones can live like this, Shane.”
Karen closed the bathroom door behind her, trying to shut out Nellie’s annoying high-pitched laughter. Whilst sitting on the toilet, she noticed that the previous night’s discarded wet towels and clothes had been picked up. The washbasin looked freshly scrubbed and the tap handles on the bath were gleaming. Nellie had been everywhere. What did she do, Karen wondered. Wait until I went to sleep so she could go over every room in the house with a J-cloth and a bottle of Cif?
But what should she do? She couldn’t go downstairs and confront Nellie in front of Shane. That would only force him to take sides, and Karen couldn’t be sure at this stage that he would take hers. Not that it would be fair to put him in a position where he would have to chose, she supposed, going back towards the bedroom, After all, he was very close to his mother – he had told her that often enough.
So what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let Nellie take over their lives like this. Glumly, Karen pulled on a pair of jeans and a fleece. There was no point in hiding up her room like this – she’d have to go down and make an attempt to be friendly – for Shane’s sake, at least.
“Morning, Karen.” Nellie chirped brightly, as she joined the cosy scene at her kitchen table. “Or should I say ‘good afternoon’, at this stage?”
Shane looked up at her and winked, obviously pleased to see her up and about and making an effort. Nellie took a plate of food she had been keeping warm under the grill, and put it on the table, urging Karen to eat up.
This is bloody ridiculous, thought Karen to herself, trying not to show her annoyance. She was being ordered about in her own home and at the moment there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She looked in dismay across the table at Shane, praying that he would notice that something was off, but no, Mammy’s boy was happily munching on his third piece of toast. He really was completely unperturbed by how weird all of this was, she thought, pushing the food slowly around the plate.
When Nellie urged her again to ‘eat up before it gets cold’, Karen felt as though she were well and truly in some kind of Twilight Zone.
Chapter 31
Jenny critically examined her reflection and decided that today she looked good. She had been to hairdresser’s the day before for a trim and to touch up her highlights, and her hair gleamed healthily. She wore a black T-shirt with a gold, oriental-type logo on the front, over a pair of light-coloured bootleg denims that she had picked up in Brown Thomas the previous week. A pair of black chunky high boots completed the outfit. The boots were new too, Jenny having only in recent weeks rediscovered her passion for shopping.
In fact, she thought, spraying Ralph Lauren Romance on her wrists; she had rediscovered her passion for a lot more than shopping. Although she hadn’t relished the thoughts of it months earlier, Jenny found that she reall
y enjoyed her independence. She had her own apartment, a good job and great friends. All she needed now was a man, she thought, giggling to herself as she put a hoop earring in each ear. She hadn’t felt this good in ages, and was so looking forward to going out with Mike today. She had been looking forward to it all week.
As if on cue, the intercom buzzed and Jenny rushed to answer it.
“Only me.” Mike screeched, in his best Harry Enfield impression.
“You’re early. I’m not ready yet – you’ll have to come up and wait.”
When she let him into the apartment, Mike stood back from her and wolf-whistled.
“Look at you, all rock-chick raunchy – do you have a date or something?” he teased.
Jenny made a face at him. She went back into her bedroom and continued getting ready, secretly delighted with the compliment. Mike didn’t look too bad himself either, she thought. Today was the first time she had seen him without a suit, and the tan combats and navy rugby top he wore made him look a lot more approachable, easygoing, and Jenny had to admit, quite sexy.
“These apartments look deceptively small from outside,” he said.
In her mirror Jenny watched him look around the living-room with interest. She remembered then that this was the first time he had been inside her apartment.
“Yes, it’s a lot bigger than most of the places I’ve lived in – then again, it costs a lot more,” she said, wondering if she should give him a guided tour, and then instantly deciding against it. That would mean going into her bedroom, and as soon as he saw the pile of clothes lying on the bed he would think that she had been making a concerted effort to impress him.
Which certainly wasn’t the case, Jenny assured herself, while applying a slick of Vaseline on her lips. A few minutes later, she followed Mike downstairs and out into the bright morning sunshine. It was still quite cold, even for March but anyone could see that spring was definitely on the way. Daffodils and tulips blossomed from the flowerbeds alongside the apartment block entrance, reminding Jenny of her dad’s flowerbeds at home, and of the fact that she hadn’t paid her family a visit in weeks.
“What a fabulous day.” she said, following Mike’s gaze out towards the pier. The water sparkled with reflected sunlight, as did the yachts and boats moored in the harbour.
“It is, isn’t it?” he nodded, then turned and looked at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Do you know something – I think it’s too nice a day to spend viewing dreary second-hand houses.”
“What do you mean?” Jenny asked, feeling vaguely disappointed at the prospect of their outing being cancelled. “Do you want to call off the house-hunting altogether?”
“Most definitely,” he said firmly, taking her by the arm. “I can do that any time – let’s do something interesting instead, like take the Dart out to Howth, or walk along Killiney Hill – what do you think?”
“Well, yes, great – but haven’t you already made an appointment to see the houses today?” Jenny said, in two minds; the first thrilled at the thoughts of doing something ‘interesting’ with Mike, and the second unsure as to whether or not she should show it. As for her shopping for Karen’s birthday present, well, she could always go into town for late-night shopping during the week.
Mike was already on his mobile before she had time to think any more about it.
“Hello, Mr Peters? Hi, it’s Mike Kennedy here. No, I can’t make our appointment today, I’m afraid – something’s come up. I’ll have to arrange with you for another time … yes …OK, talk to you soon.” He put the phone back in his pocket and grinned at her. “Right – that’s that sorted. And I just had a brainwave while I was on the phone … have you ever been to Brittas Bay?”
Jenny hadn’t, so they got into Mike’s little yellow SmartCar, and headed towards the Wicklow coast, all thoughts of house-hunting forgotten. As it was still early enough for breakfast, they stopped off on the way at a cosy café in Ashford, for a big fry-up. Mike admitted that he rarely cooked for himself at his apartment. “It takes too much time and effort to cook for just one of me,” he said, “although sometimes I do tend to eat enough for maybe two or three.”
“I’d noticed,” Jenny said dryly, watching him stuff two sausages and a piece of white pudding into his mouth all at once.
“Rebecca used to go mad,” he said, taking a gulp of tea to wash it down. “She reckoned she always ended up making huge dinners for me, but ended eating a lot more herself as a result.”
Watching him smile at the memory, Jenny felt a tinge of jealousy. Mike was always talking about Rebecca lately, commenting on things that Rebecca might do or Rebecca might like. It was fairly obvious by his behaviour that he still had strong feelings for his ex-wife. Still, she supposed, you don’t forget someone to whom you were actually married that easily. In contrast, she rarely spoke about Roan to Mike other than that first night at Tessa’s wedding. Mike knew that Jenny had been hurt by someone, and it seemed that that was all he needed to know. He had never pressed her for more information, and Jenny appreciated that. Although lessening as time went by, the pain was still there – admittedly not quite as sharp, but still there nonetheless.
Mike paid the bill and they continued their drive, reaching Brittas Bay within twenty minutes. Jenny gasped when she saw the spectacularly huge sand-dunes on the beach of powder-like white sand.
“Wow – this is fantastic.” she said in amazement, the cool breeze whipping through her blonde curls, “I hadn’t expected anything like this, Mike, the beach is like something out of a Mediterranean holiday brochure.” Jenny, more familiar with the dark and stony beaches of the south-east, couldn’t believe that the east coast could be so different in appearance.
“Pity the temperatures don’t fit that comparison,” Mike laughed. He held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”
Giddy with delight, Jenny took his hand, and together they walked along the mostly deserted sea front, Mike unable to resist testing the water with his bare toes. Jenny wasn’t quite so adventurous but regretted wearing her new chunky-heeled boots.
She watched Mike turn up the bottoms of his combats as far as his knees and wade further into the sea, urging her to join him. Jenny bent down to test the water.
“No way I’m getting my feet wet. This is bloody freezing!” she exclaimed, grimacing as the unexpected coldness of the water hit her fingers. Mike laughed and came back to join her. She walked along beside him happily, thinking that this had to be one of the nicest Saturday mornings she had ever spent. Although it was chilly on the beach, the sky was completely clear and she could feel the warmth of the early sun on her back.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” she said, looking around her in fresh wonder. “I’ve never been a big fan of the seaside, even when I was younger, but this is really fantastic.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Mike said, with a smile.
Jenny was very conscious of the fact that he was still holding her hand.
“But there are some gorgeous beaches down around Wexford direction that I’m sure you’d love as well,” he continued. “We should continue driving down along that way, and make a day of it. What do you think?”
Jenny nodded vigorously – the thought of such an unplanned adventure delighting her tremendously.
Later that evening, having visited numerous beaches and beauty spots along the east coast, Mike suggested that they have dinner in Wexford town. “There’s a lovely hotel just on the outskirts where I usually stay when I’m down here on business,” he said, “or we could look for a nice restaurant in the town, if you like.”
Jenny told him that she didn’t care where they went, as long as they ate soon. She didn’t know if it was the excitement of the day, or the sea-air in her lungs that was making her feel so hungry.
Mike opted for the hotel and soon they were comfortably seated, enjoying their starters.
“You’d better have some of this too,” Jenny said, pushing a p
late of garlic bread towards Mike, who had chosen a plate of deep-fried brie. “Otherwise, you’ll refuse to have me in the car with you on the way home.”
“Agreed,” he said, picking up a slice and popping it in his mouth, clearly delighted at the prospect of extra food.
“Pig.” she teased, highly amused at what had to be described as the passion Mike Kennedy had for his food. “Tell me, Mike,” she said, taking a sip of what she thought was an especially delicious Californian Sauvignon. “Do you always eat this quickly?” “Yep.” he said, taking another piece of her garlic bread as if to illustrate his point. “There were five in my family and it was every man for himself when it came to mealtimes. If you didn’t eat quickly, you didn’t eat, simple as that.”
Jenny chuckled. “You make it sound like something out of a Dickens novel.”
“God no, I’m not trying to say that we were penniless, just that we’re all savages when it comes to our food. Even now, when we all get together at Christmas or whatever, it’s still the same, and Rachel is as bad as any of us.” He sat back in his chair. “You should come along sometime – you’d see exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Ah, no, thanks,” Jenny said. “From what I’ve seen so far, one Kennedy is enough for me.” She indicated the empty plates in front of them. He’d even polished off the salad.
Mike shrugged. “I love my food and make no apology for it.”
“What I can’t understand is that you don’t seem to show it – you’re very trim.”
“I think that all the running around and worrying I do every week at work is enough to keep it off, for the time being anyway. It’ll probably catch up with me eventually. Ah, speaking of savages though,” he indicated the almost empty wine bottle, “you’re quite enjoying that, aren’t you?”
Jenny took another sip and licked her lips. “It’s a great wine. It’s a pity you have to drive back, otherwise you could have some.” She checked her watch and then looked across at him in surprise. “Mike – I hadn’t realised the time. It’s nearly nine o’clock. No wonder I was so hungry.”