Foreign Affairs

by Patricia Scanlan

She’s only pea-green with jealousy, Brenda thought crossly. Why did she have to try and ruin everything with her prim and proper ways? Just because she couldn’t get a man.

  ‘Ready?’ Raul enquired.

  ‘Sure,’ Brenda said brightly, putting all thoughts of censorious Julia out of her head.

  ‘Good! There is a beautiful full moon tonight, I will bring you to a very romantic place. You will like it. I promise.’ He smiled warmly at her. His expression sent a little shiver of excitement through her. He took her by the elbow and the light pressure of his firm fingers on her tanned skin was delightful. Her eyes widened when he opened the passenger door of a metallic grey BMW.

  ‘This is gorgeous,’ she breathed, sinking into the luxurious front seat.

  ‘Yes, I think so too.’ He laughed.

  They drove through the gaudy, neon-lit, bustling town, with its rowdy happy revellers, down along the coast, past peaceful, slumbering villages, until they came to a small headland overlooking a moonlit bay. A primrose yellow moon cast dancing rippling reflections on the white-tipped indigo waters below. A thousand stars twinkled in ebony skies. The scent of jasmine was heavy on the warm night air. The sound of the crickets, and the surging beat of foaming waters breaking against the rocks, were all that broke the stillness of the night. It was the nearest to paradise Brenda had ever been.

  A small track led to the beach. Expertly, Raul manoeuvred the car down along its narrow length. I bet he’s done this a few times, Brenda thought. He brought the car to a stop, leaned across and opened the dashboard and took out a tape. ‘We have our very own nightclub under the firmament.’ He smiled as the melodious seductive tones of Andy Williams singing Moon River wafted out of the stereo system. Raul got out and held open her door for her. ‘Let’s dance,’ he suggested.

  ‘Let’s.’ She smiled back happily, as she kicked off her shoes and took his outstretched hand.

  He held her close, his body hard and lean against hers. It was wonderful having a man’s arms around her. It was a delight to feel the firm plane of his jaw against hers as they danced cheek to cheek in the moonlight. When his hands slid down over her hips to mould her closer against him, Brenda did not protest. When he turned his head and lowered his mouth to hers, she raised hers eagerly for his kiss. It was a long, slow, languorous kiss, that went on and on. His hands caressed her, sliding sensuously over her body, slipping inside the material of her sundress to cup and fondle her breasts. Brenda arched herself against him as her body responded to his touch. With impatient fingers she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers over the soft tangle of black hair which covered his chest and snaked down to a narrow line that disappeared inside the band of his trousers. Raul murmured husky endearments to her in Spanish. Gently he eased the material of her dress up her thighs and slid down her panties. Brenda didn’t care, she wanted him to make love to her there and then. Feelings and desires that had lain dormant flamed into need and longing. To be needed and wanted and to need and want in return was all that she wished for at that moment. The joy of desiring someone other than Eddie was such a liberation for her. After all these years she was finally free of him. Ardently, Brenda returned Raul’s kisses, all inhibitions swept away as she sought to arouse him as much as he was arousing her. His quickened breathing and the sensual movement of his body against her told her she was succeeding. She was just unbuckling his belt when the sound of a car’s engine gave them pause. A moment later the headlights of a car lit up the track as it slowly made its descent to the beach. Raul cursed harshly in his own language as he drew away from Brenda.

  ‘This place is getting too crowded. Let’s go.’ He scowled, took her hand and led her back to the car. Brenda gave a deep disappointed sigh. Raul tenderly kissed her on the lips. ‘Soon,’ he whispered huskily. ‘Soon.’ He reversed the car and headed back up the track and out onto the narrow road that led to the main road.

  ‘Are we going to your villa?’ Brenda asked, stroking his tanned forearm as he drove the powerful car at speed along the highway.

  ‘Aah . . . no,’ he said quickly. ‘My mother is staying for a few days, and you know what mothers are?’ He smiled. ‘They think you have never grown up.’ Brenda nodded, although she was rather disappointed. She’d been hoping to spend the night with him at his villa. It was probably very luxurious and most likely had a pool as well. But she could understand why he wouldn’t bring her home if his mother was there. Spanish mothers went in for chaperons and the likes for their daughters, so Señora Suarez might not look too kindly on a strange young woman spending the night with her son.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  Raul turned to look at her and let his hand slide up along her inner thigh.

  ‘I thought we might go back to my office. It is quiet and private and I have a room there where I relax when we close for siesta.’

  ‘Sounds nice,’ she breathed. His touch was sending quivers of pleasure through her and she wished they were at the office already.

  ‘Will I put in another tape?’ Brenda suggested.

  ‘There’s a Julio Iglesias one in the dash there, you might like it.’ Raul flicked open the compartment for her and switched on the light. There were several tapes and she picked one out and studied it. It wasn’t the Spanish crooner’s cassette so she replaced it and selected another one. That wasn’t the one either. She was reaching in towards the back when something glinting in the light caught her eye. Her heart sank and a wave of dismay washed over her as she pulled out a gold wedding ring and turned to confront the man at her side.

  ‘You’re married, Raul, aren’t you?’ she said quietly. ‘All that rubbish about your mother staying at your villa is just a cock-and-bull story.’

  ‘Come on, Brenda,’ he said lightly. ‘What difference does it make? You’ll be gone in a week or so, it’s not as if we’re going to have a long committed relationship. We are ships that pass in the night, as they say. There is no harm in having one night of pleasure and it will be very pleasurable, believe me,’ he urged persuasively, his hand sliding even further up her thigh.

  For a moment she was tempted to think as he did. After her holidays she’d never see him again. She might never in her life again meet a man as sexy and handsome as Raul. An image of Julia’s disapproving face popped into her mind. Bad enough that Brenda was going to spend the night with a man she’d only met that evening, but a married man. Julia’d look down her aquiline nose at her for ever and a day if she knew about this. Not that she’d ever know. Not that anyone need ever know, Brenda argued with herself. You’d know! she thought glumly. Why the hell had she suggested putting on another cassette? She could still be sitting in blissful ignorance of Raul’s marital status. Brenda gave a huge sigh and slumped back in her seat. The evening was ruined. Even if she did go with Raul and make love with him, she’d feel as guilty as anything.

  ‘Take me home, Raul,’ she said dispiritedly. He turned a seductive gaze upon her.

  ‘You don’t mean that,’ he said huskily, pulling in and cutting the engine. He gave her a deep sensual kiss. She tried to enjoy it as she had before, but she couldn’t.

  ‘Just bring me home,’ she said quietly, pushing him away.

  ‘What a pity,’ Raul drawled. ‘It would have been a great night.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘We’ll never know.’

  It could have been such a great night, Brenda thought as the Aer Lingus 737 lifted off the runway at Malaga Airport and soared into the sky. She peered down at the lights twinkling beneath them. Somewhere down there was the little bay where she’d spent the most hot, sensual moments of her life. It had never even been like that with Eddie. She’d been too scared of getting pregnant. Too desperate for him to marry her. With Raul, there’d been none of that. It had just been lusty pleasure with no commitment or responsibilities, until she’d discovered he was married. If only she’d been able to ignore that. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t that sophisticated, she thought regretfully. Would s
he ever experience moments like that again? God I hope so, Brenda thought fervently as the plane banked and headed north.

  ‘Kathy, he was the most gorgeous hunk. I’m telling you.’ Brenda sighed.

  ‘He sounds it.’ Her friend grinned. They were sitting in the Autobahn pub having a drink and Brenda was telling Kathy all about her holidays.

  ‘Brenda, you look a million dollars,’ Kathy declared. ‘I feel such a frump beside you.’ She patted the large bump that meant she could no longer even see her toes. Kathy was eight months pregnant and wished it was all over.

  ‘Imagine me in a bikini.’ She giggled. ‘You wouldn’t have stood a chance with your Raul if he’d seen me first.’

  Brenda laughed. ‘It was great for my ego I can tell you, especially since Tara and Eve were on the scene. I really enjoyed that holiday. I feel I’m ready for anything.’

  ‘Great stuff,’ Kathy approved. ‘Who knows, you might meet a Raul out in Tamango’s some night.’

  ‘Let’s hope he’s not bloody well married,’ Brenda snorted.

  ‘Speaking of being married,’ Kathy murmured. ‘Guess who got engaged last week?’

  ‘Who?’ Brenda was agog. There hadn’t been any engagements in the offing that she knew of. Kathy was looking at her a little strangely.

  ‘Um . . . well.’

  ‘Who, Kathy?’ Brenda said sharply. She was beginning to feel a little disquiet.

  Kathy took a deep breath. ‘It’s Eddie . . . He and Anna announced their engagement last Saturday on her birthday. They’re getting married next June.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  ‘The goddamn fucker!’ Brenda burst out. ‘He’s getting married! I don’t believe it. What about all that crap he gave me about wanting his freedom to do things? To go places, for God’s sake!’ She was furious. She felt like thumping the daylights out of Eddie Fagan. She wanted to kick him in the balls, poke his eyes out, pull his hair out in great big chunks and just tell him exactly what she thought of him. And to think she’d thought she was over him. What a laugh.

  ‘I know, I know, but that was over four years ago,’ Kathy said placatingly.

  ‘Yeah. But what’s he done? Where’s he gone? Shag all. Shag anywhere. The bastard.’ A thought struck her. ‘She’s not pregnant, is she?’ Her tone was faintly hopeful. Maybe they had to get married.

  ‘No, no, nothing like that.’ Kathy shook her head.

  ‘So he’s doing it because he’s madly in love with her and he wants to. Huh!’ snorted Brenda. ‘Well I hope he and Miss Fat-Arse live unhappily ever after for the rest of their miserable lives.’

  ‘Brenda!’ Kathy tried to look disapproving but she couldn’t help laughing.

  ‘Well she is a fat arse.’ Brenda grimaced. ‘And now I’m dead sorry I didn’t sleep with Raul. I can tell you one thing, he’d have wiped the floor as a lover with that shithead Fagan!’

  ‘Come on, Brenda, stop that now,’ Kathy said firmly. ‘You’re not still in love with Eddie. You only think you are. And you’re just annoyed that Eddie’s getting married. If this Raul guy hadn’t been married and he’d decided you were the woman for him, I bet you would have fallen for him. Am I right?’ Kathy demanded.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Brenda scowled. Although privately she conceded that Kathy had a point.

  ‘I’m not being ridiculous. I’m being objective,’ Kathy retorted.

  ‘Oh is that what it is?’ Brenda said sarcastically. ‘How do you know whether I’m over Eddie Fagan or not?’

  ‘Well if you’re not, you should be. You’re a fool if you’re still carrying a torch for him. He’s not carrying one for you, Brenda. Why are you wasting your life? You should be out there having a ball.’

  ‘I don’t want to have a ball,’ Brenda said forlornly. ‘You’re married. Pamela’s going to get married. Eddie and Anna are getting married. I just want to be married like everybody else.’

  Chapter Forty-Six

  ‘I don’t want you to go, Ronan,’ Jennifer sobbed, burying her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

  ‘I have to go, Jennifer, it’s the only way I’m going to earn good money. And I want to have my own money. Especially now that Mam’s gone. I’ll be home in September. I don’t want to leave you either. I just have to go, that’s all,’ he said miserably. They held each other tightly as passengers flocked around them to pass through the boarding gate for the transatlantic flight to New York. Once more, his flight number was called.

  ‘I’d better go, Jen, I’ll phone, and I’ll write as soon as I’ve settled,’ Ronan pulled away from her. And then he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her and Jennifer could taste the salt of a tear on his lips. His shoulders were thin and bony under her touch. He’d lost weight since his mother died. The thought of him going off to America alone and knowing no-one there nearly broke her heart.

  She watched him go. He turned once, to wave, and then he disappeared around the curve of the duty-free and she burst into tears. Gulping and hiccuping into her hanky, she struggled for control. Making a show of herself wasn’t going to help anyone, especially Ronan. She blew her nose and headed in the direction of the coffee bar. She didn’t feel like going home just yet. When Jennifer was feeling miserable she liked to be on her own. Unlike Brenda, who loved to share her woes with the world.

  She bought herself a cup of coffee and sat at a table overlooking the apron. Planes taxied to and fro. She could see the enormous jumbo jet Ronan would soon be flying across the Atlantic in, fuelling up. She felt so sorry for him. He’d gone through a very rough time in the last couple of months. His mother’s sudden death had been a terrible shock. She, Paula and Beth had gone to the funeral. It had been desperately sad. His poor sister Rachel had been hysterical. Ronan introduced Jennifer to her, but the poor girl was far too shocked to make much of a response. She’d met the father too. She hadn’t liked him. He was very curt. Jennifer knew he was probably in shock and that was understandable, but the cold angry look he’d directed at Ronan when he’d introduced Jennifer to him chilled her. She said how sorry she was for his trouble and made to shake hands but Mr Stapleton ignored her. He told Ronan in a very sharp voice that this wasn’t the time or place to be standing chatting to girls and to kindly get on home to greet the callers to the house. Poor Ronan was disgusted but Jennifer told him not to worry. She understood that his father was upset, she assured him, and anyway, she whispered, she and the girls had just come to the funeral to offer their sympathies.

  ‘But you can’t go home without a cup of tea. It’s a horrible day and you got drenched at the graveside,’ he protested.

  ‘Don’t worry about us, Ronan, we’ll be fine.’ Jennifer wanted to put her arms around him and hug him but, of course, she couldn’t do a thing like that with his father only a few yards away.

  A week later Ronan met her in Emma’s restaurant, their favourite haunt. Over coffee and a pizza, he told her that he was going to America despite his father’s overwhelming opposition. William Stapleton was furious with his son.

  ‘If I let him dictate to me over this I’ll never be free of him. I’ve got to make my stand sometime. It might as well be now,’ Ronan told her, and his voice was very firm.

  Mr Stapleton had allowed his only son to fly off to America and he wouldn’t even bring him to the airport. That shocked Jennifer. How could a father do that to a son? His sister Rachel should have defied her father and come to see him off. Family life could turn out to be the fiercest battlefield, Jennifer thought glumly as she drained her coffee. Ronan and his father were estranged. Look at Grandpa Myles and her aunt. They hadn’t spoken to each other for years. He’d never seen his two granddaughters from that side of the family. And it looked as if he never would. All through bitterness and pride.

  She’d never meet Ronan’s mother now, she thought sadly. She’d sounded like a very nice gentle woman from the way Ronan spoke of her. It was hard to know how she could have married someone like his stern dominating father.
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  The big 747 started moving very slowly away from the terminal. Jennifer felt a lump come to her throat. Poor Ronan, she could imagine what he was feeling. Jennifer made a hasty exit. She couldn’t bear to stay and watch the take-off. The airport was crammed, the holiday charter nights were taking off every ten minutes. Everybody seemed full of cheer and good spirits. But the airport seemed the saddest, loneliest place in the world to her at that moment.

  An hour and a half later, Jennifer let herself in through the front door. She’d been waiting ages for buses.

  ‘Jenny! Is that you?’ she heard her mother call over the banisters.

  ‘Yeah, it’s me,’ she called back. Kit came down the stairs.

  ‘How did it go? Your father wouldn’t have minded giving Ronan a lift, you know that, don’t you?’ her mother said gently, putting an arm around her shoulders.

  ‘I know that, Mam.’ Jennifer was very grateful. Her parents had been more than kind. They’d allowed Ronan to stay with them the night before. Her dad had offered to give him a lift to the airport but Ronan had politely refused the offer. He wanted to go away with as little fuss as possible. Jennifer felt that her father’s presence at the airport would only have underlined the contemptible behaviour of Mr Stapleton.

  ‘There was a phone call for you while you were out,’ Kit said, her eyes twinkling. ‘I think it might cheer you up.’

  ‘Who was it?’ Jennifer didn’t feel anything would cheer her up. Unless it was a call from Ronan to say he’d changed his mind and had got off the plane before it took off.

  ‘Sister Bartholomew.’

  ‘Barty!’ Jennifer was horrified. She was finished with St Theresa’s. She’d never heard of Barty phoning anyone at home before.

  ‘What did she want?’

  ‘Mother Andrew wants to see you this afternoon.’ Kit smiled at her daughter’s dismay.

  ‘What!!’ she shrieked. ‘Holy Divinity, what have I done to deserve this? What does she want to see me for? Did she tell you?’