Foreign Affairs

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Yeah, well I understand that too. I like going around sightseeing. I think it’s because it’s something different for us. We’re not used to being abroad. Paula and Jenny take it for granted. They have foreign holidays every year. Paula spends half her life abroad. But it’s not like that for you and me. It’s a big treat for us.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Brenda agreed. ‘That’s why they should take the trouble to make sure we enjoy ourselves.’

  I didn’t mean that, Rachel thought to herself. She certainly didn’t feel it was up to Jenny and Paula to entertain her. But she said nothing. Let Brenda get it out of her system, she thought. There’d be less chance of arguments.

  ‘Let’s go to Corfu town,’ Brenda announced. ‘Imagine. We’ve been here four days and the only places we’ve been to are Ipsos and Barbati. There was feck-all in Barbati, and Ipsos was like Bray on a bad day.’

  What’s wrong with Bray? Rachel wanted to say. Brenda had obviously forgotten that she lived and worked there.

  ‘Maybe you don’t want to go,’ Brenda said glumly, mistaking the reason for her silence.

  ‘I’d like to see Corfu, the shopping is supposed to be good,’ Rachel said brightly. The thing was not to let Brenda get to you. She spoke without thinking half the time.

  ‘Great.’ Brenda was delighted. ‘It’s just as well you’re here too, Rachel, or I’d have no company and I’d be bored out of my mind. I don’t know how anyone can lie in the sun doing nothing for hours.’

  ‘It’s very pleasant, I lie out every chance I get at home,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Oh, so do I.’ Brenda scorched around a bend and Rachel gripped the edge of her seat nervously.

  ‘Don’t forget to stay on the opposite side of the road,’ Rachel murmured.

  ‘Mmm.’ Brenda swerved to avoid two mopeds. ‘Idiots,’ she bellowed. ‘Look at them. They think they own the road. As I was saying,’ she continued, ‘I lie out at home, and I enjoy it. But that’s my point. You can do that at home anytime. When am I going to get a chance to see Corfu again if I don’t do it now?’

  ‘You’ve a point there,’ Rachel agreed. Now that she was on her way she was looking forward to exploring the capital. She admired Brenda for having the nerve to drive in a strange country. On the opposite side of the road and everything. There was no way she’d get behind the wheel of a car here. The local drivers drove like lunatics. But they held no fear for Brenda, who tooted her horn and gesticulated with the best of them. The town was only ten miles from Ipsos. Rachel did her best to take her mind off Brenda’s adventurous driving by admiring the scenery and villas that flashed by. There was something Italian about many of the terracotta-coloured homes, but then Corfu was close to the east coast of Italy. The winding roads overlooked lush green valleys and ravines and the deep indigo of the Ionian Sea.

  Corfu was a shopper’s paradise. The winding cobble-stoned streets housed shops to tempt the meanest miser. The jewellery shops were breathtaking but Rachel loved the pottery shops and she treated herself to a beautiful blue and white platter which, she promised herself, was going to take pride of place in the kitchen of her new home, wherever it happened to be.

  Brenda treated herself to a leather bag and bought T-shirts and toys for the children. Later, weary but satisfied, they sat in a cool taverna and treated themselves to coffee and baklava.

  ‘This is the life.’ Brenda smiled, licking fingers that were sticky from the honey and nut treat. ‘I’ve really enjoyed this afternoon.’

  ‘Me too,’ Rachel said happily. It had been fun and there’d still be time to sit out and catch the dying rays of the sun back at the villa.

  ‘Have another Malibu?’ Paula raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  ‘Why not?’ Jennifer agreed. She’d just got out of the pool after a cooling swim that had refreshed her enormously. She was going to lie on her lounger and snooze for the rest of the afternoon.

  ‘It’s peaceful here, isn’t it?’ Paula handed her an ice-cold glass of Malibu and pineapple.

  ‘You mean with Brenda gone?’ Jennifer said wickedly.

  Paula laughed. ‘Well that too. We’d better put our dancing shoes on tonight and go out on the town. I’ve never been called an old granny before. I suppose it’s no novelty to us, but it is to her and Rachel.’

  ‘I know.’ Jennifer sipped her drink. ‘It’s just that I’ve done all that. I’m enjoying myself catching up on my reading. Ronan’s like Brenda when he’s on holidays. He wants to go out and about and do things. This is a treat for me. I’m a lazy slob at heart. I like flopping,’ she confessed.

  ‘Me too,’ Paula agreed. ‘I’ve been to Corfu half a dozen times. I just want to tune out.’

  ‘Rachel’s enjoying herself.’ Jennifer poured some Delial into her palm and began to rub it over her body.

  ‘She’s good fun. I like the way she threw caution to the winds after the second day and went topless. And roared laughing when I took the photo of her and threatened to send it to the News of the World.’ Paula unwrapped a bar of chocolate and took a bite out of it. ‘If it wasn’t for her, Brenda might very well be lying at the bottom of the swimming-pool.’

  ‘Try and ignore her, she doesn’t mean it,’ Jennifer said.

  Huh! Paula gave a mental snort. Brenda was thoroughly selfish no matter what Jenny said. Jenny was far too soft with Brenda and always had been. Brenda walked all over her. Paula had no intention of letting her get away with it. Kieran had offered Jennifer this holiday to help her recuperate after her accident and get over her miscarriage. Brenda wasn’t one bit sensitive to what Jennifer was going through. All she cared about was herself. Paula wouldn’t stand for any of her nonsense, that was for sure. Jennifer was going to relax on this holiday. Paula would see to that.

  ‘Would you like a slice of watermelon?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll get it, you’ve been running around after me all day.’ Jennifer made to get up.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Paula ordered. ‘You can run around after me tomorrow.’

  Jennifer lay back against her cushions. Paula was very kind to her. She, more than anyone, seemed to understand what Jennifer had been through. They talked for ages at night about their troubles. It was lovely to have this time to be close again. It was like when they were young and every secret was shared. Marriage and careers had imposed on their friendship a little. It was nice to be able to pick up the threads and weave the tapestry of their friendship tight again.

  She felt much better, Jennifer thought with relief. Maybe her hormones had gone awry after her miscarriage. Her fears seemed to have lessened, she didn’t feel so emotionally shaky. She’d even begun to think about having another baby. The doctors had told her there was no reason why she shouldn’t conceive in the future. She was still desperately sad about Danielle, but it seemed to her that the baby’s spirit was near her, comforting her. She had gone for a walk to the village yesterday and slipped into the tiny cool whitewashed church to say a prayer. A beautiful icon of Our Lady and the infant Jesus hung above her head. The peaceful serenity of the little church calmed Jennifer’s agitation and she sat alone for half an hour thinking of her baby and of Ronan. She felt at peace when she came out of the church. Last night, she had slept soundly for the first time since the accident.

  The trees murmured in the breeze. The sound of the sea lulled her senses. By the time Paula appeared with the watermelon, Jennifer was asleep. Paula smiled in satisfaction. The more rest Jennifer got the better. She needed to sleep. Paula had heard her crying softly into her pillow the first three nights of their holiday. Last night was the first night her friend had slept well. Sleep was nature’s healer. She tilted the umbrella so that Jennifer’s head was shaded and then went back to her lounger and picked up her novel. She was near the end of it. If she thought her own life was complicated, it was nothing compared to the trials and tribulations of the heroine’s. It was much easier to read about someone else’s trauma than to have to think about her own, she thought wryly, pushing
thoughts of Nick and Kieran to the deepest recesses of her mind. In the tranquillity of a sunny afternoon amidst the olive groves, Paula immersed herself in her book and forgot her troubles.

  Brenda and Rachel arrived home several hours later, full of the joys after their shopping trip to Corfu. Brenda studiously ignored Paula, much to her amusement. Silly prat, she thought. If Brenda wanted to be childish that was entirely up to her. It was no skin off Paula’s nose. She couldn’t care less. Brenda Hanley wasn’t going to ruin her holiday.

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ Brenda was disgusted. She got out of bed and went over to the window and opened the shutters. It was lashing out of the heavens. Great rumbles of thunder rolled across from the Albanian coast. The sky was a dirty grey. She couldn’t even make out the horizon. She watched the rain dancing up and down on the terrace as the pool rippled and shimmied beneath the onslaught. It was the sixth day of their holidays. She was in a foul mood.

  The last two nights, Paula and Jennifer had come dancing at the taverna on the beach. She wished they’d stayed at home. It was her own fault, of course. Brenda scowled as she got back into bed and buried her head under the pillows. Nothing would satisfy her until she’d persuaded them to party. That turncoat Yiannis, who had been flirting with her, had been smitten by Paula and had danced attendance on her, as had half the male population of Corfu. It was galling. Brenda was so furious she felt like throwing one of the Greek vases that decorated her bedroom right out onto the terrace and smashing it into smithereens.

  Brenda had ignored Paula for the last two days, after Paula had the nerve to rebuke her like a six-year-old, but that made no difference to the blonde bombshell. Paula acted as if Brenda didn’t exist, and had swiped her Greek admirer from under her nose for good measure. She needn’t think Brenda was going to take it lying down. And that Jennifer one was no better, Brenda fumed. You’d think Paula was her sister, not Brenda. They were always laughing and giggling over their private jokes, shutting her out. Half the time they were laughing at her. Brenda was sure of it. She wasn’t even going to have Rachel to hang around with today. She’d gone and got off with some Scottish bloke last night and was off sightseeing with him. Rachel had dropped Brenda like a hot potato when her skinny Sir Galahad came along.

  Brenda thumped her pillows to make them more comfortable, and tried to go back to sleep, but she was far too annoyed for sleep to come so she lay imagining smart retorts that would bring Miss-Man-Snatcher-Matthews down to size.

  Rachel was in a tizzy of excitement. Not even the rain could dampen her spirits. She was going out on a date. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. A smile crossed her face. Her tan had come up wonderfully. It was the deepest most golden tan she’d ever acquired and the best thing of all was, she had no strap marks. Sunbathing topless had given her an all-over, even colour. She’d been a bit shy the first day of her holidays and worn her bikini top. The other three had no such inhibitions and bared their bosoms to the sun. Paula and Jenny were used to topless sunbathing and had all-over tans to prove it. Brenda wouldn’t listen to Paula’s advice to take it easy on the first day and wear a high factor cream. She’d turned lobster. But Rachel listened. The following day, she stripped off to cheers and was guided by Paula as to what factor cream to use. The results were very satisfying. She looked healthy and vibrant and utterly different from the mousy Miss of two weeks ago.

  Her hair was elegantly casual. She wore the smart khaki culottes and a black halter-neck. She had applied her make-up carefully and was all ready for Ken, the Scottish man who’d invited her out with him.

  He was at the party she and Brenda had gone to on the first night of their holidays. He was with a group of Scottish lads. His friends were a bit rowdy. There was a lot of drinking, but Ken was quiet. Shy like herself. They’d sat in a corner, chatting, watching Brenda dancing. Ken was a carpenter from Glasgow. It was his first time in Corfu. Rachel confessed that it was her first foreign holiday. She’d been quite relaxed talking to him. He was nicer than the cocky Greek men who asked her to dance and tried to get off with her. The Greeks were too macho for her taste. Brenda was welcome to them.

  Brenda’s behaviour fascinated Rachel. She openly flirted with the taverna owner, Yiannis, despite the fact that she had a husband and three children at home. It was as if she was trying to pretend that she was young, free and single again. Rachel felt sorry for her. Brenda was obviously a dissatisfied woman. The party ended and Ken smiled and thanked her for her company. Rachel had enjoyed herself and went home quite happy. She didn’t expect to see him again but last night he and his friends arrived at Yiannis’s taverna. Ken made a beeline for her. They had a great night. The atmosphere was wonderful. Paula and Jenny danced and sang and enjoyed themselves. She and Ken took a walk along the beach. When he asked her if she’d like to spend the next day sightseeing, Rachel eagerly agreed.

  She heard the sound of a car coming up the drive. Rachel glanced at her watch. Nine a.m. Dead on time, she approved. There wasn’t a sound from any of the others, so she walked quietly down the landing in her bare feet and stood at the front door waiting for Ken.

  ‘A great day for ducks,’ he greeted her in his attractive Scots accent.

  Rachel laughed. ‘Do you still want to go?’

  ‘Sure! Why not? We might as well.’

  ‘Would you like breakfast or anything?’ she asked.

  ‘I thought we might go to this little restaurant that I’ve discovered on the road to Beniteses. You should taste the coffee. It’s the best. And then we could drive down south. The island is only forty miles from north to south and it’s only five or six miles wide in some parts. We could see a lot of it, in spite of the rain,’ he suggested.

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Rachel enthused. ‘Much better than hanging around doing nothing all day. What are your friends doing?’

  ‘Nursing massive hangovers.’ Ken grinned. ‘It’s not really my scene.’

  ‘Or mine.’ Rachel laughed. ‘I had three glasses of brandy the night we flew in and I was out of it. I’ve no head for alcohol.’

  ‘I must remember that,’ teased Ken as he sheltered her under an umbrella and opened the car door for her. Rachel settled herself comfortably, shaking the drops of rain from her hair.

  ‘Would you like to come to Corfu with us, Brenda? We’re going shopping,’ Paula asked crisply.

  ‘No thanks,’ Brenda said huffily. It might suit Paula and Jenny to go shopping today but Madame Paula needn’t think that Brenda was going to come running. They’d stuck their noses in their books and left her to her own devices when she’d asked them to go shopping the other day. Well she wasn’t going to go tagging around Corfu in the rain after them. They could get lost. She’d entertain herself, thank you very much.

  ‘Fine.’ Paula was not the slightest bit put out at her refusal. ‘Enjoy your day.’

  Brenda ignored her. Paula sat calmly drinking her coffee, gazing out at the rain. When she was finished, she stood up, brought her breakfast dishes out to the kitchen and stacked them in the dishwasher.

  Brenda heard her footsteps clattering briskly up the wooden stairs.

  ‘Bitch!’ she muttered. Never again would she go on holidays with Paula Matthews. It just wasn’t worth the aggravation.

  ‘The sun’s splitting the trees in Dublin,’ Jennifer announced cheerfully. She’d just been on the phone to Ronan.

  ‘For God’s sake!’ Brenda exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me you phoned Ronan again. I don’t know why you bothered coming on holiday.’

  ‘Well at least I love my husband enough to phone him,’ Jennifer retorted, stung by her sister’s tone. ‘You’ve only phoned home once. And that was the first morning you were here and you only stayed on for two minutes. You didn’t even talk to the kids.’

  ‘We’re not all loaded like you, Jenny,’ Brenda flared. ‘I get a pittance for my job. I can’t afford long-distance phone calls. And don’t you dare imply that I don’t lo
ve Shay or the kids. You’ve a nerve.’

  ‘Don’t start, Brenda,’ Jennifer warned. She wasn’t in the humour for her sister this morning. Last night’s sulks had been more than enough to put up with.

  ‘Don’t you start!’ Brenda snapped. ‘I came away for a bit of peace and quiet and you expect me to ring home every day and listen to Shay moaning and the kids whingeing. Don’t annoy me. Just don’t!’

  ‘You haven’t one bit of appreciation for your husband,’ Jennifer retorted. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are, Brenda Hanley. It makes me sick watching you let that Yiannis yoke maul you around the place. You’re a married woman with three children, for God’s sake!’

  ‘I know I’m bloody married with three children. It’s all right for you to talk. You can come and go as you please. You’re not tied down the way I am. So mind your own business,’ Brenda raged.

  ‘Tied down! That’s a joke! I never saw anyone less tied down. If you were tied down you damn well wouldn’t be able to come on holiday. You offload those children on anyone and everyone. You take advantage of people’s good nature. You use Mam like a servant. Don’t make me laugh!’

  ‘You watch what you’re saying, Jennifer Myles,’ Brenda exploded. ‘How dare you say I offload my kids. Shay’s sister is minding them and I’m paying her good money to look after them. She’ll give them the best of care.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Jennifer said scornfully. ‘The same Carol who took care of them the weekend you went away with Shay. The same one you moaned about to me, about the state she left the house in and the amount of cider cans you found in the bin after her. Mam had to go and cook those kids a decent meal that weekend. In fact if it wasn’t for Mam those children would never get a proper feed of vegetables and meat and potatoes. All you give them is frozen burgers and chips and beans. You should be ashamed of yourself giving your husband and children that stuff day in, day out, because you’re too busy gadding about or too lazy to cook a dinner. Claudia told me she loves coming to my house for her dinner because she gets gravy and meat and mashed potatoes. You’d want to cop on to yourself, Brenda. Grow up and be thankful for what you’ve got,’ Jennifer said furiously.