Between You and Me

by Margaret Scott

  “Oh boy! I sure can imagine her reaction!” I’d seen the Older-Sister-look-of-disapproval once already this year and I wasn’t going to forget it in a hurry.

  “Well, he won’t be there so we’ll just have to find some other way to shock Marsha.” Kelly sniffed the air. “What is that delicious smell? Is it my favourite? Please tell me it’s –”

  “Would I let you down?” I took the vegetarian quiche from the oven and placed it on the table in front of her as she pretended to swoon at the delicious aroma.

  “Oh Holly, I love you!”

  “I love you too.” I ruffled the chestnut curls as I went to get the salad.

  Just then the kitchen door opened and I leapt in shock as Amber squealed “Da Da!”

  “Why, hello,” Mark said when he saw Kelly sitting at the table.

  Oh shit.

  “Mark, this is my sister. She’s just here for some lunch. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay.” Mark smiled at Kelly, who was sitting open-mouthed looking up at him, and then took an excited Amber from her arms. “I’m Mark, and you are . . . ?”

  “Kelly. I’m Kelly.” Kelly’s mouth was still hanging open and I almost laughed to see my chatterbox sister so seemingly lost for words.

  “How’s everything?” Mark asked me as he went through his bundle of post.

  “Great,” I answered. “We’ll be heading shortly to go and get Jamie.”

  “Well, I can get him and drop him back if you like.” Mark looked at Kelly and smiled again. “Give you girls more time for lunch.”

  “No, it’s fine –” I started but Kelly, who seemed to have recovered, interrupted me.

  “That would be lovely, Mark, thanks.”

  Oh God, that was all I needed, Mark and my sister bonding. I frowned at her in what I hoped was a meaningful way.

  “Though I won’t be under Holly’s feet all day. I have to be at the Kildare Outlet by three,” she added hastily.

  “Oh, shopping?” Mark asked pleasantly.

  “No, I’ve a meeting about a shop.”

  I kicked her violently under the table.

  “I mean, well, it’s not really a meeting, It’s a – a job interview. In the sunglasses shop.” She smiled. “Have to take the jobs where we can these days – isn’t that right, Holly?”

  “Yes, dear.” I shot her another warning look but Mark, who seemed to have found whatever piece of post he was looking for, wasn’t listening.

  “Would you like some lunch, Mark?” Kelly asked sweetly.

  Mark looked at his watch. “Smells good but I have to be off if I’m going to collect Jamie at one thirty. I’ll grab a sandwich on the way.”

  “Holly could pack you a takeaway. Couldn’t you, Holly?”

  “Yes, of course.” I made a face at Kelly and got up to get a plastic container. I put in some quiche and salad and handed it to Mark, who handed me Amber in return.

  “Why, thank you,” he said, smiling. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  “I suppose you will,” I answered, feeling a flush start to rise on my cheeks.

  “Bye, Mark!” Kelly called sweetly from the table.

  “Lovely to meet you, Kelly.” He smiled at her. “And best of luck with the interview.”

  The minute he was out the door Kelly grabbed my arm.

  “Who was that?” she hissed.

  “Eh, my boss, I would have thought that much was obvious.”

  “And, eh, why have I heard nothing about him before?”

  “What’s to hear? He’s my boss. Oh, and don’t be fooled by all that smiley-smiley stuff – he’s not like that all the time.”

  “Jesus, Holls, he’s a fine thing!”

  “Oh, come on! I think my life is complicated enough at the moment without you throwing Mark Fielding into the mix.”

  “Well, janey, you could throw him into my mix anytime you feel like it. And I do declare I might have seen the hint of a blush on your cheeks when he smiled at you.”

  “Start eating, Kelly!” I slapped her with the tea towel again. “I think your blood sugar must be low.”

  “All I’m saying is, you sure don’t do things by halves, do you?”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I sighed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Chapter 33

  I woke on Saturday morning and, looking at my phone, saw it was only nine o’clock. Cursing, I closed my eyes and rolled back under the warm duvet. It hadn’t been all that long since I’d gone to bed so I willed myself to go back to sleep.

  But it was no use, I was wide awake now – ironic, given it was Mark’s turn to do the football-training run. So I just lay there, replaying the previous night over in my head.

  Wow.

  From the very start of the evening, Oliver had been so attentive. He’d even offered to collect me. Which, in turn, gave me a new dilemma. He thought I was sharing a house with Harry, so how could I explain Mark and the children? So I spun him some story about the directions being complicated and instead offered to meet him outside the butcher’s on the main street. Luckily he didn’t question me any further.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said, “to make up for starving you on Wednesday.”

  “Oh goodie, I love surprises!”

  Instead of then turning and driving back towards Dublin, he took the Carlow road and drove the ten miles or so to Rathmoylan House, a small hotel set in a beautiful country estate just off the Carlow Road. A further mile down a winding gravel driveway, it couldn’t have been more secluded.

  “Oh, this looks wonderful!” I gasped.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re impressed – it even has one of those fancy stars they’re always talking about,” he answered, looking very pleased with himself.

  “Definitely better than a drive-through McDonald’s,” I teased.

  “We can only hope.”

  Just then my phone buzzed. It was another text message from Dad.

  Chad on Late Late 2nite.Pls ring your mother after show to tell her he was great whether U saw him or not.

  I rolled my eyes and shoved the phone back into my pocket. Poor Dad, she really must have him under pressure. I made a mental note to do as he asked later.

  “Well, does this make up for the pub-grub fiasco?” Oliver asked as I finished my last, luxurious bite of chocolate marquise.

  I nodded, too intent on savouring my final mouthful to talk.

  “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it – and that you appreciate the effort I’ve gone to.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Of course I do! That’s a silly thing to say. I’d have been just as happy with a bag of chips in the car as long as I’m with you, though.”

  He grunted.

  “Oliver! I would! It’s lovely!”

  “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s all I’m saying.”

  After dinner, we took our coffees out to the library, where we snuggled in front of an open fire. Thankfully, the tension seemed to leave his body and I could feel him relax.

  “I can’t believe I’m off tomorrow and you have to work! You never usually work on Saturdays,” I sighed.

  “I know, but I’m trying to make a good impression, you know – promotions could be any day now . . .”

  “I bet you’re just spending the day with her?” I said, regretting the words as soon as I’d uttered them.

  “No, Holly, I’m not. She’s not even around this weekend. Anyhow, I thought we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.” Oliver’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp.

  “I know, I’m sorry.” I looked down, annoyed with myself for saying anything.

  “You’re forgiven.” He kissed me. “However, I don’t have to be in work until nine.” He kissed me again, this time on my neck, just behind my ear.

  That man knew exactly what to do.

  “So?”

  “So, the night is young, th
at’s all I’m saying.” His lips were now tracing my jaw-line . . .

  “What exactly are you suggesting, Mr Conlon?” I smiled, relieved that my earlier surliness seemed to have been forgotten.

  “That I ask that nice girl on reception if she’d have a room?”

  “What? Oliver!” I pushed him away, looking around at our sumptuous surroundings. “I doubt this kind of place lets you pay by the hour and you know I can’t stay any longer than that!”

  “Well, maybe I won’t mention that we’ll not be needing breakfast!” he muttered, before getting up.

  “Oliver – no way – I am not booking into a hotel for a couple of hours.”

  “Why not?” he said sharply. “I’m sure you did it in New York all the time.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say,” I said quietly, stunned at his nastiness. “Why are you being so horrible?”

  “Well, why are you being so difficult?”

  “I’m not being difficult, but we’ve had a lovely evening, really lovely – we don’t need to –”

  “Oh, so you’ve eaten and now you want to go home? It’s like that now, is it?”

  “There you go again – what is with you tonight? If either having sex or fighting is all you’re interested in then why don’t you just take me home?”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry – that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, so you should be – what in God’s name is wrong with you?”

  “I’m just under a bit of pressure at the moment – you know, the promotions and stuff. I suppose I just look forward to our evenings, you know, and I wanted this evening to be special.”

  “Well, it is – of course it is,” I said, in relief at his remorse. “I look forward to seeing you too, you know.” I put my hand on his arm but he shrugged it off.

  “You’re right, it’s getting late, I’ll drop you home.”

  “Well, we don’t have to go just yet.” There was something about his tone that was really starting to make me uneasy.

  “Look, it’s fine – I was just trying –” He stopped. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

  I looked at him and before I could change my mind said, “If we stay we’ll have to be gone by six in the morning . . .”

  “Ah come on, it’s not that far, and it’ll be Saturday, remember? No traffic?”

  “By six, Oliver, or I’m not staying!” I said firmly. There was no way I was arriving home any later than that, in the same clothes I’d gone out in. It wouldn’t look right in front of the children, let alone Mark bloody Fielding.

  But he was gone, already chatting animatedly to the receptionist. I looked away, my cheeks flaming. I couldn’t believe we were booking a room basically just for sex.

  Shit. With a sinking heart I remembered I hadn’t phoned my mother. I toyed briefly with the idea of ignoring Dad’s request, but I just couldn’t do it to him. Stealing another glance at Oliver’s back, I took a deep breath and started dialling.

  “Green residence.” My mother got more like Hyacinth Bucket every day.

  “Hi, Mum, it’s Holly.”

  “Oh Holly dear, well, what did you think?”

  “Oh, he was fantastic, Mum, you must be really, really proud.”

  “Oh well, you know, I don’t like to go on but . . .”

  She clearly did want to go on.

  “Well, Mum, I just thought I’d let you know I’d seen it – I’m sure you want to keep the line clear for all your other callers.” My duty was done and I could see Oliver walking back towards me, swinging a key card cheekily in his hand.

  “Wait – how did you think he looked?”

  Shit – how had he looked?

  “I thought he looked . . .” I wondered quickly how he could have looked any different than suave, confident Chad always looked but could come up with nothing, “good?” I finished tentatively.

  “Did you not think he looked tired?”

  Shit. He’d looked tired.

  “Just a little, but you know, Mum, he works so hard.”

  “Yes.” My mother still didn’t sound happy. “I suppose. He was always so hardworking.”

  I waited for her to say ‘Not like you,’ but was surprised when she instead launched into an attack on the colour of his tie. A debate I really couldn’t enter given my scant knowledge of the evening’s appearance.

  Meanwhile Oliver was now sitting beside me, kissing my neck.

  “Mom, I really need to go,” I tried to interrupt her while pushing Oliver away with my non-phone-holding hand.

  “No, wait – I want to talk to you about Christmas –”

  My heart sank. This conversation could go on all night. Meanwhile my boyfriend was still doing his level best to get me up to a bedroom that we’d virtually rented by the hour for pure unadulterated carnal pursuits.

  “But, Mum –”

  “Now, Holly, you’re just like your dad – you want all the celebrating with none of the hassle. I’ve had to do everything – your dad won’t even make the builders a cup of tea.”

  Builders? So the extension had gone ahead. I guiltily remembered Dad’s text looking for my intervention, which of course I’d forgotten about until now.

  I opened my mouth to reply but suddenly she was shrieking about there being an incoming call and with all her flapping she managed to cut me off.

  In a swift move Oliver took my phone from me and turned it off.

  “Now, come on, let’s go!”

  And up the grand staircase we scampered like two naughty schoolchildren, to a room more sumptuous than I could ever have imagined.

  “There’s one of those old-fashioned baths!” I squealed.

  “Never mind the bath,” Oliver grinned. “I’m more interested in having a go of that four-poster bed . . .”

  My cheeks flushed again now just thinking about it. About how hours later we’d crept down the grand staircase, nodded sagely at the night-watchman and ran giggling out the front door.

  Oliver had laughed at my shame. “For God’s sake, you’ll never see any of these people again.”

  And I knew he was right, but still . . .

  Again I wouldn’t let him drive me to the house, this time truthfully telling him that I wasn’t having the noise of his car wake the entire neighbourhood – especially at that hour. So he’d left me at the entrance to the estate and I’d walked the walk of shame alone to the front door.

  Now, with a long Saturday stretching out in front of me, I wondered would the lack of sleep come back to hit me later. There was nothing for it but to get up. I dragged on my jeans and a sweater and headed downstairs.

  “Morning,” said Mark. “You look remarkably fresh for someone who had such a late night – or was it an early morning?”

  My cheeks flamed again. Damnit, he’d heard me come home.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I muttered, turning to put on the kettle, unable to meet his eye.

  “It’s okay – I was awake.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, sorry anyway.”

  “So. What are you doing up? I’ve everything under control here. For once.”

  And he had. Amber was sitting up at the table eating her porridge and Jamie was, as usual, already dressed for football.

  “I’m not very good at lie-ins,” I said. “Actually, seeing as I’m up, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Well, it’s your sitting room – you know, the room you don’t use?”

  He visibly froze, a warning look coming to his eyes, but it was too late for me to stop now.

  “Well, I was wondering how you’d feel if I turned it into a playroom. It would give you more space and would tidy up the place a lot.”

  “No,” he said.

  “But –”

  “I said no.” He was so abrupt this time that I subconsciously took a step back.

  “Right. That’s obviously that then. Sorry for asking.” And I took my cup of tea, left the kitc
hen and started to head for the stairs.

  “Holly, wait!” He came out after me, shutting the door behind him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

  “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. I just thought it might be a good idea, that’s all. But I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s your house.”

  “It’s just that I can’t do it.”

  “Well, I was suggesting I do it actually – well, as much as I could manage – but I thought you might give me a –”

  “It’s not a sitting room,” he said.

  “It’s not?”

  “It’s – well, it was – a study. Emma’s study.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “And that’s why I can’t. I just can’t. Because,” he took a deep breath, “because there’s stuff in there. Stuff that I just don’t want to see.” He exhaled. “That’s why.”

  I could have kicked myself.

  “Oh my God, Mark, I’m sorry. Of course. I didn’t realise. It’s just that when I was in Dawn’s house, I saw her room, and I thought of your room and what a waste it is and . . .” I was babbling now, but this conversation was just awful.

  “It’s okay, you weren’t to know. I know it’s ridiculous but I just can’t.”

  “Forget it. Forget I mentioned it.” I literally didn’t know what else to say.

  “No. I don’t want to forget it. It’s a great idea. I often thought it myself. But I can do a lot of things – I mean, before twelve yesterday I’d shot one horse and castrated two, but just don’t ask me to –”

  He turned his head away so quickly that for one awful moment I thought he was going to cry.

  I had no idea what to do. Deciding rapidly against reaching out to comfort him, I did my usual and chose the practical route.

  “Look, Mark. This is not a big house, and one whole room, one large room is completely wasted.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “What would you think if I packed up the stuff for you? I’ll box it and seal it and you can put it in the little attic beside my room or somewhere else until you’re ready to deal with it. Maybe you’ll never be ready but there’s probably stuff the kids might want – you know, when they’re older.”