“It’s just that I imagined you putting in a good year here and then hitting the big Dublin hotels with your CV.”
“Really?” Cara pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“So do I have a chance of getting my yearly contract extended then or not?” she asked cheekily, surprising herself that she was enjoying his attention.
“Oh . . . absolutely . . .” But Jonathan looked less than convinced.
“No?” she pushed, disappointed to a level she was shocked by.
“It’s not you, Cara, honestly you are brilliant – it’s just, well, I can’t really say yet, okay?” He extended his arm and directed his index finger around the room. “Look at this, though – you have created the most incredible wedding for these people, it’s beautiful, perfection, you really have the touch. You are fantastic at this.” He dug his hands deep into his black suit trousers.
“Okay but do keep me posted, won’t you, Jonathan? I have fallen in love with Knocknoly now and can’t imagine settling anywhere else.” She suddenly realised how true this was.
“I will, don’t worry,” he said.
They stood, surveying the happy guests.
“Must be wonderful though,” he said, gesturing towards the newly married couple.
“What? Marriage?” she said scornfully.
“No, not marriage exactly but to feel so deeply in love. I’ve never had that.”
“No, neither have I,” she said and their eyes locked for a brief moment.
He gently took her elbow and led her to the bar where Mike greeted them both. “What would you like to drink?” Jonathan asked. “I think we deserve one?”
“Really? On the job? Okay, you’re the boss! White wine, please,” she said laughing.
“Two sauvignons, please, Mike – the New Zealand one.” He turned back to Cara and said quietly, “What is it you are looking for then, Cara Byrne?”
“Ah, I don’t know, Jonathan. I completely lost myself some time ago. I suppose I’m just trying to find me again.” She dropped her face into her hands, “Oh man, that sounded so corny! What I mean is I got into something that was so awful I can’t even tell you. I actually surprised myself at how stupid I was. I became that woman that I always thought was an idiot, I suppose. I became that what-was-she-thinking-of woman!” She tried to laugh as Jonathan handed her the freezing cold white wine. Thank God he hadn’t ordered champagne. Cara never wanted to taste champagne again as long as she lived.
“I understand. I think I did the same myself – well, am still doing it, I suppose. In London I lost myself in the hotel. You see, I always wanted to own my own hotel and at the Kingston I knew that the owners were in trouble so I worked my ass off and applied for a massive loan. I wanted to buy it off them. However, it didn’t work out and I didn’t get to buy it, so here I am back with my tail between my legs. Massive loan still promised to me and still sitting in the bank whenever I need it.” He sighed and his eyes took in the room.
“Surely there’s still an opportunity to do it? Buy somewhere else?” she asked.
“Maybe, Cara, we’ll see. We’ll see soon enough actually.”
She looked up at him and wondered what he was thinking that very second. There was something in his words that was hidden. A hidden message. Was he trying to tell her something? His dark brown eyes were miles away as he watched the wedding progress. Suddenly Cara wanted to know everything about him. He was so calm, she mused as she sipped her wine. So trustworthy. Or was he? Was any man what he seemed to be? She honestly didn’t know if she’d ever again be able to trust another man. It was true what she had just said to Jonathan: she didn’t want another relationship. Alex had seen to that. She had been perfectly happy and contented before Alex and she was planning on being like that again. She watched as Max tucked into a plate of what she knew was the chocolate-biscuit tier. It had been about the only thing to do with the wedding cake that he was interested in. Max was a good guy. Her dad had been the greatest guy in the world. Maybe she should lighten up. She laughed now at her own thoughts.
“Cara, could you watch the desk for me?”
Sandra’s voice dragged her back to the present and she noticed the other woman was slightly shaken-looking.
“Is everything all right?” Cara asked.
“It’s Neil, my husband. He’s just called to say goodbye – he’s at the house, our house – he’s packing. I need to see him. I can’t just let him go like this and never have said goodbye. We owe each other that much. He must have been discharged after I saw him this afternoon. I just want closure.”
Cara didn’t have the first clue what Sandra was on about but she just nodded and made soothing sounds.
“Go on,” Jonathan said, “I can do it. Cara needs to be in this room for Jenny and Max.”
“I’m so sorry, Jonathan,” Sandra whispered. “This is the last time I will let you down. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Go, it’s fine – take the time to sort out whatever you need,” he said and made his way to reception, leaving his wineglass now empty on the bar.
Cara opened her arms and Sandra stepped into them. Cara hugged her tightly. “Good luck. We will have that chat soon, don’t worry. Do what you have to do, hun.”
***
The porch light was on and the front door wide open. It was being held open by one of the large grey suitcases Neil’s granny had given them as a wedding gift.
Sandra stepped over it. “Neil?” she shouted.
“He’s upstairs!” came a reply.
She turned to see Tom standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eating a sandwich. “Can’t say I like what you’ve done with the place, Mrs Darragh. All a bit bare, isn’t it?”
She just ignored him in his lycra orange jacket and took the stairs two at a time. Neil was in the bedroom folding T-shirts into a small black Samsonite suitcase, the other large one already filled and waiting patiently by the door. She pushed the case back slightly, closed the door behind her and sat on their bed.
“Where are you going to live? Will you stay here in Knocknoly with her?”
“We’re going to Dublin. She’s from Enniskerry but her dad has flats in Rathmines so we are going to rent one of those.” He folded the sleeves inwards and then popped the dark shirt into the case.
She loved that shirt on him. They used to joke about it. “Love that shirty on you!” they would say in unison whenever he put it on, and laugh like school kids.
“Are you in love with her?” she asked the question and didn’t really want to know the answer.
“Oh, God knows, Sandra. I don’t know. All I do know is she’s easygoing and just wants to enjoy life.” He looked uncomfortable.
“Just like you, hey?” She paused and then said, “So that’s it, Neil, that’s it. It’s all over. I don’t quite know how we got to this place.”
“I do. It just all took off way too fast and as far as I’m concerned you just lost yourself in this obsession to have a baby. Do you really honestly even care that it’s all over between us, Sandra?” He lifted his head and stared at her.
“No,” she answered honestly. “Do you?” She didn’t really know why she was here or why she was asking him this. It was what it was. It was completely and utterly over so what was the point?
“A bit.” He shrugged his shoulders and whistled a sigh of relief into the air.
“Can I help? I know how much you hate to pack.” She tried to laugh and so did he.
“Ah, I’m nearly there now. You know me, Sandra, not much to pack. Never was much of a shopper, was I? I’m just clearing out my clothes, and CDs and a few DVDs . . . em, the other stuff . . . I guess we’ll need professionals to get involved at some stage? As far as I’m concerned you can take it all. I want nothing except the armchair from my cottage that was my Granddad Frank’s.” He reached over and took her hands and her eyes welled up. “Sorry.” He rubbed her cheek. “I loved you, Sandra, I really did but w
e’re just not the same people any more.”
“You are the same,” she managed and he nodded and smiled widely.
“I’m guessing that’s not a compliment, now is it?” he laughed.
It was the first time she had seen him laugh freely like that in such a long time.
“What were we at? I realise now we didn’t know each other at all.”
“I think it was probably an age thing for me. I was in my thirties I had no boyfriend and all I really wanted was a family. Simple as that. I didn’t want to be left on the proverbial shelf. My biological clock wasn’t slowing down so I had to do something to keep up with it. I wanted to give myself that chance and you were great, I had so much fun with you . . .”
“But all you ever really wanted me for was babies?” he asked quite calmly, without malice now.
“I didn’t think I did. I mean, underneath it all, even on our wedding day, I was thinking babies, christenings, birthday parties, but you were always there. I should never have rushed it. We should never have married so quickly.”
“We’d never have married had we waited though, would we?”
“No, probably not,” she admitted.
“So what is it you’re looking for now then?”
“Nothing, Neil.” She stretched her arms high above her head. “I’m not looking or wanting anything any more. I can’t, it’s too exhausting. I just want to live my life now and whatever happens, happens.”
“Pity you didn’t think like that a year ago,” he said.
Sandra took a breath. “There is one other thing. It might mean absolutely nothing to you but I feel I need to tell you. I was pregnant that day. We were blessed with a very brief fleeting visit by our baby.”
His eyes stared at the floor. “Shit,” he managed and stood up.
“Take care of yourself – I am always here for you if you ever need a friend,” she said and she meant it. She was no longer in love with him but she did love him. When she had fallen out of love with him she would never really know. She couldn’t answer that question herself. “You were a great husband to me, Neil, and you were a great friend. I put you through so much with the IVF and I am sorry.”
“Come on, Neil! Are you roight? I need to hit the frog and toad fast loike!” Tom yelled up the stairs in his pretend Dublin 4 accent.
Neil let go of her hand. “Sorry about Tom. I know you hate him but I need him right now. So, is John Wayne chasing you already with his lasso?”
“Now, Neil! Move it! The M50 will be getting crazy if we don’t leg it now!” Tom’s annoying voice pierced her ears yet again.
She didn’t understand the John Wayne reference but just waved him aside to go.
“I guess that’s that then.” He clicked the silver locks down at the same time. The noise was somehow very final and as he picked up the case their marriage dissolved. He lifted the case to the door. “Has the bank been in touch?”
“I’m in with them in the morning – what am I to expect?”
“It’s pretty straightforward. Tom had his solicitors meet with Mr Kilroy and all you need to do is sign all the papers and the money will be deposited into your account.” He paused now. “Will you want to claim maintenance from me and all that?”
“No. No, Neil, I don’t want anything. Half the house will be perfect. Half the house will be really great, thank you. I don’t want anything in it either, but yes I guess we will have our solicitors sort that one. I will go in and sign what needs to be signed in the morning. Maybe put everything in storage for a while.” She let out a long slow breath.
“You can live here until you find a place of course,” he said as he stood at the door.
She stood up. “Can I ask you one final favour? The extra cases we had, are they still in the attic?”
He nodded.
“Can you get them down for me before you go? And my red rucksack too? I am going to pack now too. I never want to set foot in this house again.”
She stood and watched as her soon-to-be-ex-husband pulled the attic stairs down and got the cases and her bag out. He folded the stairs away again and shut the trapdoor. Then he took the two cases down the stairs into the hall and left them at the front door. He pulled on his jacket and put the two large cases in Tom’s car and came back into the hallway. The breeze blew the junk mail and flyers from the floor down the hallway. They locked eyes and he gave a half smile as he took a look around the house and with a snap of his wrist picked up the small case and put his foot on the doorstep.
“Take care of yourself, Neil,” she said from the landing.
“I will,” he replied. “Be happy, Sandra, you’re a great girl altogether.” Then he blew her a kiss before turning and slamming the front door behind him.
“See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!” she said and the tears began to stream down her face. She went downstairs into the cold kitchen and poured herself a pint glass of wine. She took it back upstairs and opened her wardrobe. She began to fold her clothes into the case. She knew she should go back to work but it was almost clocking-off time and she didn’t see the point. Honestly, she didn’t care about work right now. She didn’t really care about anything at this very moment. She cared about getting drunk and getting out of this shithole of a house. She couldn’t put into words how she was feeling. How had this all happened? She knew her next visit had to be to her parents before all this news spread around the village.
She clipped her fringe back off her face and pulled her phone out and called the hotel.
“Good evening. The Moritz Hotel. Jonathan Redmond speaking.”
Sandra looked out the window. She knew fifty per cent of the responsibility lay at her door, isn’t that what they always said? It takes two.
She heard Jonathan say again, “Hello? The Moritz Hotel. Can I help you?”
“I’m not coming back, Jonathan.”
“Sandra, is that you? Are you okay?” His voice was concerned.
“Yeah, I suppose I am, thanks.” She gulped the cold wine and it stung the back of her throat.
“I can’t hear you very well,” Jonathan went on. “Do you want to talk to Dermot?”
“No,” she replied.
“Are you handing me your notice over the phone?” He sounded incredulous.
“Oh God, no, Jonathan! I just mean I’m not coming back this evening! I’m due to clock off in twenty minutes so I don’t see the point.”
“No, fine, we weren’t expecting you back.”
She could hear the relief in his voice.
“Listen, Sandra, you just mind yourself. In fact, I was chatting to Dermot earlier – I hope you don’t mind but he filled me in a bit. I think you need to take some time off for yourself. Take a nice long week – it’s fine, we are fine here. Is that okay?”
She could hear the noise and hustle of the hotel and she felt so alone. “Okay. I will take you up on that offer, thanks,” she managed. She heard him move away from the mouthpiece for a moment, then he spoke again. “Sandra, a Mr Jamie Keenan is at reception now. He has no room here but said you were looking after him? What were you planning on doing with him? Did you check if Louise has her spare room free?” Jonathan sounded a bit frazzled.
“No, she’s full unfortunately – I rang her earlier.” She drank the end of the pint glass. She needed this like a hole in the head.
“Hmmm . . . this isn’t great . . .”
“Oh, here, tell him he can stay here in this house – sure there’s lots of room – well, I . . .”
She heard Jonathan talking to someone before he said, “Hang on, Sandra, I’ll put him on to you.”
She heard Jonathan speak and then she heard Jamie’s voice. “Hey, Sandra, it’s Jamie Keenan. Jonathan mentioned you may have a spare room I can crash down in at your place, is that right?”
“Yeah, sure, no problem. I’ll leave the key under the front-door mat for you. I have some personal issues so I won’t be back to work. Tell Jonathan to call you a cab later tonight and he can give
the address to the driver. I’m literally five minutes away. Please help yourself to anything in the fridge but be warned there isn’t very much. And I can call you a cab in the morning.”
“Wow, that’s so nice of you! Great, thanks so much. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
She looked around the empty house. “Anytime,” she said and hung up.
She went back down into the kitchen and fished for the spare key in the knife drawer, found it and put it under the mat. She padded back into the freezing kitchen to search for any more alcohol she could get her hands on.
She flicked on the heating but, no matter how long the heating went on sucking up money, the house was impossible to heat. There were so many drafts on the snag list that no one had ever come back to fix. Vent holes that had never been filled. Doors that didn’t fit properly. She found half a bottle of vodka left over from their moving-in party but no mixer so she added some tap water to it. She drank a gulp and nearly threw up. It was vile. She drank some more. She trudged back upstairs and started her packing. She would have to take Dermot up on his kind offer tomorrow and stay with him for a few weeks. This would be her last night in this house and the very thought cheered her up somewhat. She thought about Dermot as she lay back on the bed now. He was so good to her – now that she thought back he always had been. He had always been around her.
She sat upright. She wondered. Just as she reached for her phone to call him she heard a knock at the door. Shit! It couldn’t be Neil back and it couldn’t be Jamie Keenan yet as she’d only got off the phone minutes ago.
“Coming!”
She suddenly knew it was Dermot. Of course it was Dermot. Jonathan must have told him and he came straight over.
She ran down the stairs and flung open the door and there with a bottle of wine in each hand stood Jamie Keenan.
“Need some company?” He walked right in, put the bottles down and threw his black suit jacket over the banisters.
“Did you run?” she asked.
“Not really,” he drawled.
“Well, em, I wasn’t expecting you until the early hours of the morning, Jamie. I presumed I’d be in bed.”
The Other Side of Wonderful Page 26