Ebb and Flow

by Mary O'Sullivan

  “How could you pass derogatory remarks about me? For God’s sake, Andrew! I’m your wife!”

  Andrew laughed. A humourless sound. “It’s over a year since you’ve been a wife to me. But this is not the time or place to go into that. What we must do now is try to sort out the Ballyhaven mess.”

  “I thought you had an urgent appointment?”

  “I just wanted to get rid of the Coxes.”

  Ella raised an eyebrow and stared at her husband. How easily lies seemed to come to him and how smoothly he passed them off as truth. Had he always been a liar? Till death us do part. Had that been a lie too? He left his desk and came to sit across from her.

  “Exactly what have you said to Jason Laide about Ballyhaven? Have you committed us in any way?”

  Ella shuffled uncomfortably on her seat. Obviously “the matter” discussed this morning with Gary and Noel Cox had been the Ballyhaven site. It appeared that they wanted it as badly as Jason Laide. And Andrew apparently was determined that the Cox brothers should have it. She shivered as she thought about Jason Laide’s anger if she reneged on her promise to sell the fifty acres to him.

  “I shook hands on the deal. Isn’t that commitment enough?”

  “Did you sign anything?”

  “How could I? You’re co-owner. Any agreement would need joint signatures.”

  Andrew relaxed. He sat back in his chair and smiled at Ella. “That’s okay then. I was afraid you had made some promises we couldn’t go back on. The Coxes must have that site. We need to keep them on-side.”

  “Not so quick. I don’t agree. We have just sold Jason Laide’s house and got a nice commission from it. When Rob Trevor signs the Manor House contract with Jason, we’ll have a very good bonus. Enough to buy the bungalow in Cuanowen. He’s a good client. I want to keep him.”

  “For heaven’s sake! Where’s your common sense? The Coxes are the best clients we have. They have a history with us. And a future if you don’t mess it up.”

  Ella thought again of the Jason’s purple infused face leaning over her in the hospital bed. He was not a man to issue idle threats. The promise of violence and evil was plain in the icy blue eyes. He would use anything to get what he wanted.

  “Jason came to see me in the hospital yesterday. He said he has witnesses to the deal I made with him. I don’t think he’s going to take no for an answer. Maybe we won’t have a choice.”

  Andrew thumped the desk in uncharacteristic rage. “Jesus! Ella! You’re getting us into a real mess. You’ve got too familiar altogether with that man. You know nothing about him. Couldn’t you have picked somebody decent to befriend?”

  “Like you did?”

  Andrew opened his mouth as if to speak. The words did not come out. He just sat there, looking sheepish and guilty. He didn’t have to say anything. Ella should not have been shocked or hurt. But she was. She pushed the feelings back into the fog of her mind. They could be dealt with later. She managed to smile at her husband.

  “As you said this is not the time or the place to discuss personal matters. We’ll do that when we are both ready. Now tell me about the engineer’s report on Manor House.”

  “That report is a sham. I’m having it vetted by a man I can trust. Anyway, it may be quite irrelevant. We have another offer on Manor House.”

  “Really?”

  “You saw the bidder. Here in the office before – before you collapsed. Don’t you remember?”

  How well Ella remembered. Too well. Karen Trevor walking towards her, reaching out to her, pleading, begging, asking too much of her. Of course her logic told her that Karen could not have been there. She was not altogether mad. But why had she not seen someone else? How could she not have noticed a client in the office?

  “Who was it?”

  It could have been the way Andrew hesitated before he said the name, or the soft way he spoke the words that sent shivers down Ella’s spine. Or maybe it was because of the beautiful portrait in Manor House that Jason Laide said resembled the girl. Whatever the reason, the second she heard him say the words “Maxine Doran” she knew beyond doubt that this was the woman with whom her husband was having an affair.

  * * *

  Jason was standing outside the door of Maxine’s apartment when she got out of the lift. She could see his sweaty, purple-faced anger from twenty feet away.

  “Why did you change the fucking locks?” he raged as she approached.

  “There have been a lot of break-ins around here,” she explained reasonably as she let them both into the apartment.

  Jason threw himself onto the couch and ordered a drink. When Maxine brought it to him, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down beside him. Pushing his face so close to hers that she could feel the heat from his skin, he began to harangue her, spitting the usual obscenities. It soon became clear that the Ford’s site in Ballyhaven was the cause of this particular manic bout.

  “I don’t ask much of you. I let you get on with your life. Just an odd favour every now and then. You owe me, you bitch!”

  Maxine smiled at him. She had to. “Yes, Jason. I know. You could destroy me any time you wanted to. I appreciate that. But I’ve really tried my best with Andrew Ford. I even told him I wanted to buy his site for myself. But you do realise that his wife is joint owner. She would have to agree to sell it too.”

  “She has agreed, you silly cow! I’ve made the deal with Ella Ford. She’s off her fucking head but I could still make that agreement stick. Have you completely lost your touch? You must be well gone past it, Max. How could you not get Andrew Ford to sell a few fields that he doesn’t even want?”

  “The trouble is, Jason, as I’ve already told you, you’re not the only person who’s interested in that land. Noel and Gary Cox are after it too. There must be oil wells underneath it.”

  “None of your business. I have to force Andrew Ford’s hand now. And quickly. I want evidence. Photos. You know what I mean. Home movie sort of thing. The more explicit and embarrassing the better. At least that’s one thing I know you can do.”

  “But I think Ella already knows Andrew is with somebody else. Maybe she doesn’t care.”

  “Of course she doesn’t fucking care! She’s too absorbed in her nervous breakdown. Spending her time falling around the place. But he’d care if his business colleagues knew, wouldn’t he? There are newspapers that would love to have the pictures. You know the ones. Can you imagine the headlines? Leading Business Man Exposes His Assets?”

  Needing breathing space, Maxine got up to put on the kettle. Her mind was in over-drive. What in the hell should she do now? She would not, could not, do this to Andrew. There was only one choice she could make now: never to see him again.

  Better to have him believe that Maxine Doran had dumped him rather than have him discover her involvement with Jason Laide and all the murky history that entailed. But then Jason would very gladly destroy both of them if she refused. She would just have to play along with Jason. For now. Hoodwink him.

  She jumped when she felt Jason’s breath on the back of her neck and realised that he had followed her into the kitchen and was standing behind her. Turning to face him, she fixed a smile on her face.

  “Fine, Jason. I’ll go along with that idea. See if we can make Andrew Ford sign on the dotted line.”

  Jason grabbed her roughly around the waist and pulled her close to his body. “You have no choice, slut. The newspapers would also love to see supermodel Maxine as she was in her teens, wouldn’t they? I want a set of your new keys. I’ll have one of my men come here to set up cameras. I want that site in Ballyhaven at any cost and anyone that tries to stand in my way gets what they deserve. Understand?”

  Maxine understood perfectly. It was a fight to the death. Either she destroyed Jason Laide or he destroyed her. To her relief, Jason relaxed his grip on her then.

  “I know you’re gagging for it, Maxine, but sorry, I’m in a hurry. I’m going to Salzburg tomorrow and I have a lot to do before then.”<
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  “Give Sharon my regards. When will she be home?”

  “Just as soon as the contract for our new place is fixed up. I’m buying Manor House. Do you know it?”

  For an instant Maxine thought of the kitchen knives on the counter behind her. How shiny and sharp the blades were and how easily they would sink into Jason Laide’s fat, white flesh. What an abomination! This piece of filth getting his mucky hands on Manor House, sleeping in the canopied bed, walking on the magnificent floors and in the gardens, polluting the peace and dignity of the old building with his vulgarity and cruelty. She took a step away so that the knives were out of her reach.

  “You must come to see it, Maxine. There’s a portrait of some old biddy hanging in the hall and I swear to Christ she’s your double. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Really?”

  “Anyway, you know Sharon. She’ll be throwing plenty of parties there. You’ll see the portrait then. That’s if you get the business with Andrew Ford fixed up. If you don’t, you may not even be around. ”

  With that threat delivered, Jason turned and walked away. Maxine waited until she heard her front door close. Then she went to her diary and found the phone number she needed. This was her last chance, the only one she might ever have to rid herself of Jason Laide. Her fingers shook as she dialled the number.

  Chapter 17

  Ella liked the city on Friday mornings. It always seemed to buzz with anticipation, an energy and willingness to get on with the day so that the weekend could begin. At least she used to like it when she had weekends to look forward to. That of course had not been the case for the past year when every day had been tinged with the dogged determination of Mondays. To be endured rather than enjoyed.

  As she stood this Friday morning outside the main office of the business she and Andrew had built from scratch, she decided that another weekend of playing host to Karen Trevor was more than she could take. Looking around her on the busy street she could see people carrying weekend bags, dressed up in their best, anxious to get duties done and be on their way. Escaping. Living.

  At the door she took her usual deep breath, fixed her business smile in place and, shoulders back, walked through reception into the private office she and Andrew shared. He was at his desk, his hair tousled. Not a good sign. He always ran his fingers through his hair when he was frustrated or even angry, leaving it standing up in little tufts.

  “Everything all right?” Ella asked as she settled down at her desk.

  “Bloody fine. Why wouldn’t it be with everyone on my back? I’ve had another call from Gary Cox. Just a little reminder that he will want an answer on the Ballyhaven site. Jason Laide has been on looking for you too. You’ve really botched this Ballyhaven thing up.”

  “I’ve got a promise from Jason Laide that he’ll top any other offer by one thousand euro an acre. That’s not what I call botching it up.”

  “Really? You never told me that.”

  Ella did not answer him. Instead she logged onto her computer and searched for a hotel near Cuanowen. Finding one within a five-kilometre radius, she put in a request for details and then turned to her husband.

  “Remember I told you I’ve made arrangements to view the bungalow in Cuanowen? I’ve decided to spend the weekend there. Take a break. Why don’t you come too? How about it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! I can’t go swanning off with all this hanging over our heads.”

  “What can you do to change things over these couple of days? Wouldn’t it be better to get some fresh air and rest? Then we could see more clearly how to sort things out. We need the time together, Andrew. We have a lot of things to talk about.”

  His hands went to his hair again and he began to run his fingers through it. As Ella watched him she subconsciously crossed her fingers. If he said yes, then maybe there was some hope for them, for their relationship, for the Ella and Andrew that used to be. If he said no . . .

  “I’m sorry, I can’t go. I’ve a very important meeting tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure you have. What’s her name?”

  The bitter words had left Ella’s mouth before she could stop them. She had not meant to sound so waspish. That was not true. She had. She wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her. But she did not want to appear unreasonable while doing it. She should not give her husband yet another excuse to go off to his floozy. His bit on the side. To Maxine Doran. Bitch!

  He crossed the office now and came to stand in front of her desk, his eyes glittering with a rage she had seldom seen before in Andrew Ford.

  “What goes on in that twisted mind of yours, Ella? As a matter of fact, I’ll be meeting Pascal McEvoy and Oliver Griffin for a drink tomorrow night. I must. I believe they know what’s going on with Ballyhaven. They’re the people to tell me why the Coxes and Jason Laide are both so determined to buy our site.”

  “What has Pascal McEvoy got to do with it? He’s a politician.”

  “Exactly. So he can tell me, one old friend to another, if Ballyhaven has anything to do with the new legislation on gambling.”

  “Gambling? Andrew, what are you talking about?”

  He sat on the chair opposite her and she could see worry lines on his face she had not noticed before. With a start she realised that Andrew was beginning to age. As she was too. Their lives were passing by and they weren’t even living the time they had. All their youth and energy had gone into Ford Auctioneers. Their hopes, their dreams, maybe even their marriage, had been sacrificed at the altar of commercial success. And on the grave of Karen Trevor.

  Andrew put his hands on the desk and leaned towards her. “We’ve been caught napping, Ella. We missed all the lead up to this new legislation. From what I can gather now, the government are going to issue a licence for a super casino here in Ireland.”

  “But what has that got to do with us?”

  “This casino has to be built somewhere, doesn’t it?”

  Ella thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. “I follow your line of thinking. You suspect that Ballyhaven as been earmarked as the location for the casino. Am I right?”

  “That’s what I intend to find out.”

  At last Ella uncrossed her fingers. She had lost the gamble. Andrew was not going to spend the weekend with her. But she was still determined to go herself. Maybe he was telling the truth about meeting his two old college friends. Or maybe he would spend the time with this person, this other woman. Maxine Doran. The woman who wanted to own Manor House. The beautiful woman who wanted it all. Andrew seemed to be telling the truth now but he had proved himself to be an accomplished liar. She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

  “Suit yourself. I’m going anyway. In fact I think I’ll go this evening.”

  “Fine. Enjoy Cuanowen but do not, under any circumstances, make any more deals without my agreement. See that bungalow, get information on it, but no commitments – okay?”

  “And likewise. I have a client for Manor House and the Ballyhaven site. I don’t want you making any new agreements without my say so.”

  When Andrew nodded his head Ella went online to book a single room for herself in the Seaview Hotel near Cuanowen.

  * * *

  Knowing that he would be pushed for time in the evening, Jason packed for his Salzburg trip before leaving his house. Not a very demanding job. He was going only for a couple of days. Besides, Sharon kept a stock of everything he might need carefully stowed away in Junkergasse. Probably well out of sight of her toy boys. Just for a moment Jason regretted having let her know he was visiting. He had been considering the idea of a surprise visit. But what difference would it make if he caught her with her lover? She would probably introduce them to each other without even a blush. He had even, for one moment, considered hiring a private detective to find out just who she was spending her time with in Salzburg. Having to explain to someone, even a stranger, that his wife was whoring around the continent was enough to kill that idea. He might think about it again later.
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  As he zipped up his weekend case, he looked around the house. It already felt as if he was intruding even though the final papers for the sale had yet to be ratified. In fact, he had to admit, he had never felt at home here. Sharon had a talent for creating beautiful spaces but the ability to create a home seemed to have eluded her. For the first time it struck Jason how impersonal the house was. No photographs, no holiday mementos, no sign that a family lived here. A sad reflection of the truth. He and Sharon were not a family. They were a chemical reaction that sizzled and flared and faded with monotonous regularity. Gladly, he turned the key in the door and, throwing his bag into the car, headed into town for the first of his calls.

  The staff of Laide Transport deferred to Jason with their usual pseudo-respect when he called in to the main office. As he inspected the current work log they assumed he was checking up on them. Normally he would have been doing just that, making sure the shower of hypocrites were earning their money, but this morning was different. His only interest was in the shipment from Dirk Van Aken. With relief he saw that the container was almost safely here. Very soon it would be landing in Ireland. In fact, he could oversee the unloading of the gaming machines before his flight tonight if everything went according to plan. Calling the deliveries manager, he left instructions that he be contacted as soon as the ferry carrying the container docked.

  “I want to know the second she drops anchor. Understood? And I want a lorry on standby. That container has some urgent supplies I need delivered straight to our own yard here before anything else is unloaded.”

  “Yes, Mr Laide.”

  “Don’t mind your arse-licking. Just make sure you do as I say.”

  Satisfied that his manager was intimidated enough to do exactly as he was told, Jason left the office and went out into the yard. He stood for a moment, enjoying the sight of the state-of-the-art warehousing complex which surrounded the central open space. A good portion of his profits came from storing the goods his lorries transported until the customer was ready to take delivery. Jason was never in too much of a hurry for people to collect their goods, unless of course it was a consignment from Dirk Van Aken. In that case the quicker the goods were delivered to the end customer, the better.