Two For Joy

by Patricia Scanlan

  Maybe he’d be relieved, she thought frantically as she heard his key in the door. She sat up and shoved the test into her drawer and took a deep breath as she heard him run upstairs.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘No, Oliver, I’m not.’ She felt sick with tension. ‘Oliver, I have to talk to you.’ She took a deep breath, twisting her hands in her lap. ‘I want to go back to London. I can’t stay here any more. It’s doing my head in. You’re not happy. I’m not happy. It’s the best thing for both of us.’

  Oliver looked at her, stunned. And then he turned away and walked to the window so she couldn’t see the expression on his face.

  ‘If that’s what you want, Noreen,’ he said flatly.

  ‘I’m sorry, Oliver,’ she whispered, her throat constricting.

  ‘When are you going to go?’ he asked, his back still turned to her.

  ‘I … I … probably the day after tomorrow,’ she hesitated. ‘It’s the best thing for us, Oliver.’

  ‘If you say so,’ he said tonelessly. ‘I’m going to have a pint. See you later.’

  ‘’Bye,’ she whispered as he left the room. That was it, he was going to the pub, he hadn’t even tried to argue with her or persuade her to stay. He probably couldn’t be more relieved, she thought bitterly as she heard the door close behind him. She walked into her closet and pulled her big, battered black case down off a shelf. Briskly, methodically, she began to pack her clothes and uniforms. It was best to go quickly. If she could she’d go before he came back from the pub, but she needed to tell Douglas she was leaving. Maura and Rita, well, they’d know soon enough. She’d phone them from London, she couldn’t do it face to face. And Cora. Noreen gave a twisted smile as she folded a pair of jeans. Her mother-in-law would be the happiest woman in the world.

  * * *

  Oliver sat in a dark corner in the pub nursing his fifth beer. So Noreen was leaving him. He couldn’t say he was surprised. As a husband he was a total failure. Couldn’t give her a child, couldn’t make love to her, no wonder she was going. Why would she stay with a dud like him? He didn’t know whether he was glad or sad. He didn’t know what he was feeling except this huge, ferocious anger and despair that was eating at him, making him want to pound his fists into a brick wall or something.

  Why had this happened to him? What had he done to deserve it? One thing he knew for sure, he was finished with women. They only led to misery and he was never going to get hurt the way Noreen had hurt him again. ‘Goodbye and good riddance,’ he muttered drunkenly, a salty tear sliding down his cheek.

  34

  ‘I’m not going to a fortune-teller, Ruth,’ Heather snapped sulkily.

  ‘She’s not a fortune-teller, she’s a psychic,’ her sister said indignantly, ‘and I’ve made the appointment and you’re coming.’

  ‘Oh Ruth,’ groaned Heather. ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘It might cheer you up.’

  ‘What? To be told I’m going to be on the shelf for the rest of my life?’ Heather scowled.

  ‘You’re not going to be on the shelf for the rest of your life. Don’t be ridiculous.’ Ruth couldn’t help the edge in her tone. She was at her wits’ end with Heather. Since she’d found out about Neil and Lorna she’d sunk into a depression that was completely out of character. ‘Come on,’ she urged, ‘just to please me. I’ve been to her before and she told me about meeting Peter. She told me he was the one, and he is.’

  ‘Yeah, but maybe there’s no one for me,’ Heather said glumly, munching on a piece of toast dripping with butter.

  ‘Well, just come for the day out anyway. It’s a nice trip to Kilcoole, we can have lunch and a poke around the Avoca Hand-weavers on the way home.’

  ‘OK, whatever you say,’ Heather said dispiritedly as she buttered another piece of toast.

  Ruth threw her eyes up to heaven. This was hard going, and if she could get her hands on Lorna Morgan she’d wrap them around her skinny little neck and throttle her.

  * * *

  Heather sat in the passenger seat beside her sister as the traffic crawled along at a snail’s pace towards the Merrion Gates. The sun shone in a clear blue sky. People strode briskly along the seashore walk, the sea a sparkling azure in the curve of Dublin Bay. She stared unseeingly through the window, seeing none of it, too focused on the heavy, dull ache that had been her constant companion since she’d found out about Lorna and Neil.

  It was six soul-destroying weeks since her life had been turned upside-down. This day six weeks ago she’d had a good job, her own place and a man she thought she loved. Now she was living at home with her parents, working in Fred’s Fast Food Emporium, and there were times she wished she was dead.

  Tears smarted her eyes and she turned her head so that Ruth wouldn’t see. Her sister had been her rock. She’d come to her aid the minute she was needed. It seemed like only yesterday, the memories were still so raw.

  As soon as Neil had left the flat after she’d cursed him to high heaven, she’d sat on the bed, shaking, and phoned Ruth. She could hardly talk for crying.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Is it Mam? Is it Dad? For God’s sake, Heather, tell me what’s wrong?’ Ruth started panicking.

  ‘Neil … Neil slept with Lorna,’ she managed before breaking into shoulder-shaking sobs.

  ‘What!’ The shock in her twin’s voice made her worse and she cried with abandon. ‘I’m coming right now,’ Ruth said hastily. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘The flat,’ Heather gulped, relieved beyond measure that Ruth was coming.

  ‘I’m on my way,’ Ruth said and hung up.

  Lorna and Neil, Neil and Lorna. She kept repeating it over and over, still unable to take it in. She would have been shocked to hear that Neil had slept with another woman, but for him to have slept with Lorna beggared belief. That he could hurt her so deeply and obviously not care was the most painful thing she had ever experienced. Had he no loyalty in him at all? She knew that Lorna was capable of a lot of things, but Heather had never dreamed that she would stoop so low. It was almost as if Lorna’s contempt for her was so great, it hadn’t cost her a thought to inflict the hurt she’d inflicted on her.

  She lay huddled on the bed until Ruth arrived an hour later, and fell crying into her arms as they embraced at the door.

  ‘Come on. Get packed. You can tell that bollox he can stuff his flat. Here, I brought a roll of black sacks.’ Ruth was nothing if not practical. ‘You can tell me all about it while we’re packing.’

  Heather told her sorry story as Ruth began to stuff the duvet into a black sack.

  ‘Whatever about her,’ Ruth’s voice dripped scorn as she referred to their cousin, ‘I never thought he would do such a scummy thing.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he did,’ Heather said bitterly.

  ‘Well, it’s happened and there’s nothing you can do about it right now so let’s get the hell out of here. That little bastard will be the sorry man when he comes into work on Monday and you’re gone, lock, stock and barrel.’ Ruth whipped the pillows off the bed, followed by the sheets, and stuffed them into another sack. ‘Come on, stop standing there. Get your clothes out of the wardrobe.’

  Ruth’s brisk no-nonsense attitude focused Heather’s mind and the two of them worked like Trojans, not speaking much until all of Heather’s possessions were packed into eight large black plastic sacks. Heather looked around her. How bare the place looked, how lonely.

  ‘Take down those curtains, Mam made them,’ Ruth ordered.

  ‘The curtains?’

  ‘The curtains,’ insisted Ruth. ‘Why should he have them?’

  Heather obeyed with a weak smile. Ruth never did things by half.

  ‘Now can you go downstairs to the office and delete any files or mix them up and make his life a misery? I take it you’re not doing another second’s work for him.’

  Heather’s eyes widened. ‘God, I never thought of doing that.’

  ‘How could you think straight?’
Ruth retorted, her eyes full of sympathy. Heather started to cry again.

  ‘How could he do it to me, Ruth? Did he think I was such a doormat that he could wipe his feet all over me? They never even liked each other, until she came back all Flashy Glam, saying she was going to New York. She flirted with him to get the best price she could for that car. He wouldn’t tell me what he paid for it. And he fell for it and went running when she clicked her fingers and I didn’t count with either of them.’

  ‘Ssshhh, don’t waste your tears on that little slapper and him. They deserve each other, Heather. They’re users. Come on. We’ll teach him to mess with the Williams. Let’s see what we can do with the computers. He’ll be such a bloody sorry little toad by the time I’m finished with him.’ Ruth’s eyes glittered dangerously. Heather sniffed and wiped her eyes.

  ‘You were always my champion, even when we were small.’ Heather laughed, suddenly buoyed up at the idea of taking revenge. ‘Come on.’ She led the way downstairs to her own office. No one could ever accuse her of being the spiteful type, but right this very minute she wanted to get her own back on Neil and Ruth had hit the nail on the head. Mucking up the files would cause him a lot of grief.

  Half an hour later she had files renamed, hidden, and disguised to her satisfaction. She’d drawn the line at deleting them, not quite willing to go that far. He’d have a hell of a search looking for the wages, tax and VAT files, she thought with satisfaction as she reformatted all the floppy disks that had held copies. Ruth in the meantime was flicking through the filing cabinet, taking sheafs of papers out of files and inserting them, willy nilly, into others.

  ‘Deal with that, you slithery bastard!’ she declared, as Heather shut down the computer. In spite of herself, Heather laughed again. She felt almost on a high. Neil might have thought that she didn’t count. He’d think twice in the morning and know exactly how much he needed her. He might think he’d got where he was on his own, but in the couple of months that she’d worked for him she’d reorganized his business completely and left him to do what he was best at, selling cars. Office management was definitely not her ex-lover’s strong point.

  ‘Now I think we’re finished. Let’s go pack the car.’ Ruth yawned.

  ‘I can collect the stuff tomorrow.’ Heather took a look around the little office she’d made her own and felt a deep sense of sadness.

  ‘No, Heather. We’ll bring them with us now. You’re not setting foot in this place again. Mam’s expecting us.’

  ‘What did you tell her?’ Heather asked in alarm.

  ‘Stay calm,’ Ruth soothed. ‘I said that you and Neil had had a falling out and you were leaving. I never mentioned that other little fucking cow. You can tell Mam and Dad yourself if you want to.’

  ‘Thanks, Ruth. Ma would have a fit. She’d probably go haring off around to Jane’s and there’d be a fine family row,’ Heather said faintly. ‘I suppose I’ll have to tell her some time. It’s going to be all around the town anyway.’

  ‘Well, not tonight. Come on. Let’s go home,’ Ruth said kindly, giving her a shove out of the door. For the next ten minutes they lugged the black sacks down the stairs and into Ruth’s Mazda. ‘Here, you sit in the car and give me the keys. I’ll lock up,’ her sister ordered.

  Heather swallowed. She’d been really happy in her flat with Neil, challenged and interested by her work, and now it had all evaporated. She sat tiredly in the car, her high dissipated. She was almost numb. She watched her sister turning the key in the lock. Ruth was the salt of the earth, she thought gratefully. She’d taken control and given direction just when it was needed.

  She glanced up at the windows of the flat. How cold and bare they looked without the curtains. She was right to leave, though. She had some pride. If it had been anyone else, she might eventually have forgiven Neil. But he’d betrayed her with Lorna. There could be no going back.

  Her mother and father greeted her kindly, lovingly. ‘Come in, pet,’ said her dad. ‘You can tell us all about it another time if you want, but for now, you’re home where you belong and that’s all that matters.’

  Her mother took one look at her daughter’s pale, strained face and said firmly, ‘Up to bed with you. The blanket’s on. I’ll bring you up a cup of hot chocolate.’

  Heather didn’t argue. She was too exhausted. Her mother had the bed turned down, the big plump white pillows utterly inviting. She stepped out of her clothes, pulled on a nightie and slid into the warm comfort of her bed. She lay looking at the faded Laura Ashley wallpaper with its little cornflower sprigs, and the matching curtains that her mother had made. It was a homely bedroom that held many happy memories. Heather couldn’t help but think that even though it had been the worst day of her life, she had a lot of loving support to cushion the blow. Some people had to deal with betrayals and broken hearts on their own.

  Her mother knocked gently and came in with a cup of steaming hot chocolate. ‘I put a drop of brandy in it to help you sleep. Everything will work itself out, love,’ she said comfortingly.

  ‘Thanks, Mam. We had a row. I’ll tell you about it in a little while.’

  ‘Whenever you want to, don’t be worrying.’ Her mother patted her as if she were a child. Heather sipped the hot chocolate and lay back against the pillows. She felt as though she were in a dream. That none of it was real. It was a very weird feeling. Anne slipped out of the room, and when she’d finished the hot chocolate Heather switched off the light and lay watching a sliver of moonbeam through the curtains. The old familiar shapes and shadows of the room weaved around her and she closed her eyes, too tired to think any more, and fell asleep.

  Surprisingly, she slept until noon the following morning and when she woke up she lay in the half-awake state wondering why on earth she was sleeping at home in her old room. Remembrance hit and she buried her head under the pillows and cried, trying to smother her grief, afraid her parents would hear. How could she get up and face them and pretend to be normal? She just wanted to die rather than face that stabbing, aching pain, grief and shock that assailed her. Lorna and Neil, Neil and Lorna, round and round it went in her head until she felt like screaming.

  A little while later Ruth rapped smartly on the door.

  ‘Why aren’t you at work?’ Heather asked tearfully as Ruth came and stood beside the bed. Her sister carried a mug of tea and a bacon sandwich.

  ‘It’s Sunday, silly, and I felt you might need some sisterly affection.’ She surveyed her twin’s tear-stained face. ‘Come on, eat this and get up and we’ll go for a walk around the lake before dinner. It will give you an appetite. You know if you want to come back to Dublin you can move in with me for a while. Peter and I are buying a place soon. You can move in with us if you want,’ she offered.

  Heather shook her head and took a bite of the sandwich. She was actually hungry, she thought in surprise. Typical. Lots of her friends had lost their appetites and shed pounds when they’d been dumped, but not her. Her appetite was large as life, she thought crossly as she took another mouthful of hot, sweet tea.

  ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do,’ she confessed to Ruth as they walked around the lake an hour later. It was a fine, bright day, the scent of spring unmistakable. Cotton puffs of clouds drifted on a cerulean sky, the birds sang lustily, but there was no balm for her spirit.

  ‘Don’t make any decisions yet. I just want you to know there’s a place for you if you need it. It can be hard living at home with the parents when you’re used to your own space, especially when you’re upset.’

  ‘I’ll need to get a job. I can’t sponge off Ma and Da.’ Heather sighed. The thought of looking for employment was daunting, the thought of going back to Dublin even more stomach-lurching.

  A magpie flew right in front of her and she cursed. ‘Where’s your blasted mate, the last thing I need is to see one magpie,’ she grumbled, craning her neck to see if she could see the second one. ‘Come on, you don’t believe that malarkey,’ Ruth chided as they began to m
ove on.

  ‘I hate seeing one magpie and I just don’t need to see a single one today,’ Heather snapped. She knew it was superstition but nevertheless she was always happy when she saw the pair. She scanned the treetops. It wasn’t to be, there wasn’t another magpie to be seen, and Heather walked on and felt the whole universe was against her. They passed Oliver Flynn, striding along with his head down.

  ‘Hello,’ he said politely but kept moving. He looked as miserable as she felt, Heather thought glumly as she panted after her fitter sister.

  ‘I always thought he was a fine thing,’ Ruth confided. ‘I wondered why did he marry Noreen Lynch? I would never have thought of her as his type. And she’s older than him.’

  ‘I would never have thought of Lorna as Neil’s type and definitely not of Neil as Lorna’s,’ Heather reflected grimly.

  ‘I suppose,’ Ruth murmured, not quite knowing how to respond. Which was unusual for her to say the least. They walked for half a mile or so in silence.

  ‘We’d better go back. Mam will have the dinner ready. Do you want to come to Dublin with me for a day or two? It might be easier,’ Ruth suggested.

  ‘I suppose I could. I know it’s running away. I don’t want to have to see Neil for a while.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll go to Dublin after dinner and you can stay as long as you like.’

  Heather didn’t particularly want to go to the city, but it would give her a chance to try to come to terms with what had happened and she wouldn’t be under the concerned gaze of her parents, which was a little trying.

  ‘It’s a good idea. A break at Ruth’s will do you all the good in the world,’ Anne declared as she served up the dinner.

  ‘Does that fellow owe you any money or anything?’ Her father lowered his paper and glanced out at her over the top of his glasses.

  ‘No, I got paid on Friday and I’m not giving him any notice so we’re quits,’ Heather said defiantly.

  ‘Hmm,’ said her father.