The Other Side of Wonderful

  “Yeah, I suppose we would but we could build on maybe? Build staff quarters around Dermot’s area?”

  “Wow this is mad.”

  Sandra slipped in behind the reception desk and thanked Alice. “You can go and help Cara today if you want the extra hours? Jonathan’s out on business so she might need help with the Christmas activities and all that.”

  “Will do.” Alice nodded and grabbed her bag.

  Dermot approached the desk. Sandra still felt mortified about his visit to her house the night she had sex with Jamie.

  “So, how was your week off?” He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and held it off with his hands.

  “It was good. I needed to get Neil out of my system. I know that sounds crazy and so selfish but I needed to do it.”

  “How are you doing now?” he asked, concerned.

  “I think I’ll be okay. I spoke with Neil last night and he’s doing well. He’s living in Rathmines with yer one. It won’t last but sure he’s happy for now.”

  “That’s great, Sandy.” Dermot let go of his hair and it covered his eyes.

  “Listen, Dermot, I’m sorry that happened last week – eh, when you came to the house . . .” she whispered as he backed away from the desk.

  He came back slowly. “Come on, I should be the one apologising for barging up your stairs! I was just so anxious about you . . . imagining all sorts of disasters to tell you the truth . . . No need to apologise. You know me better than that. It’s your business, Sandy. I’m just happy you’re okay, nothing else is important. I have my own life and you have yours, isn’t that right?”

  He smiled at her and then she watched him go. His hair had grown so much in a week, she noted. There was nothing between them so why did she feel as though she’d just cheated on him? Dermot was right – she was crazy, she had nothing to feel guilty about.

  Her stomach rumbled now and she was suddenly starving. She rang Tiffney in the restaurant. “Could you drop me down a plate of chips with loads of vinegar whenever you get five minutes? And I mean drench them in vinegar.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Tiff said and rang off.

  The hotel was packed, the guests were all well looked after and the Christmas buzz had opened up. Cara had done a terrific job, Sandra noted, very classy. The reception area twinkled in discreet red and green fairy lights and some soft classical Christmas carols played around her. Poinsettia plants were positioned at the doors and in window boxes. The dining-room roof was circled in white fairy lights that flicked on and off at intervals of thirty seconds. Cara really had the touch.

  Sandra dialled her mother’s number at home.

  Answering machine. “Hi, it’s us! We’re on the green! Shush!” Laughter and a beep. Sandra hung up. Her mother hadn’t tried to call her to see how she was. She hit the numbers harder this time as she rang back and this time she left a message: “Hello. Mam and Dad, it’s me, your daughter. I will be working all over Christmas so if you would like to see me I will be in the Moritz. Happy Golfmas!” Then she slammed the phone down hard. It would take her a while to mellow.

  “You okay?” Tiff asked as she balanced the biggest plate of chips in her right hand and a can of Coke and a bottle of vinegar in her left.

  “That’s a talent, Tiff!” Sandra said.

  “Who are you telling? It took me lot of years to master!”

  Tiffney looked much brighter, Sandra noted. She’d had her hair cut into a sleek bob and it really suited her. She seemed to be standing taller, straighter. “How are you, Tiff? I love the hair. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you much lately. I’ve been, well, busy!” She laughed and dipped her fingers in for a hot homemade chip.

  “Yes, I wondered why you never come in for your lunch break any more?”

  “Money, Tiff, it ran out,” Sandra muttered through a hot chip and immediately grabbed for another.

  Tiff shooed her hand away. “Sit and eat. Is better. I understand money running away all too well.” She bowed her head. “Money makes the world go round – isn’t that what the song says?”

  “Yeah, I suppose it does, Tiff, but they also say ‘Money Can’t Buy You Love’!”

  Tiff took this in and worked it out in her head. “They are correct. It cannot.” She turned on her heel and walked back to her restaurant.

  Sandra wolfed the chips down and sipped her chilled coke.

  “Chips and Coke? Classy girl, wha’?” Cara poked her head into the back office.

  “Shit, can you smell them? Jonathan would freak. I never, ever do this. I am just totally starving.” She handed the can to Cara who drank from it.

  “So how are you?”

  “I’m okay, Cara. Sorry I bailed on you and our night – everything just happened so quickly. I just had to get away.”

  “So I’m taking it your marriage is really over for good?” Cara sat opposite Sandra, redoing her low ponytail.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  As Sandra filled her in Cara listened intently, nodding her head and taking in every word.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said at the end. “I know what it’s like, well, sort of . . . mine is . . . well, another shocking story altogether.” She felt uncomfortable as her past sloshed around her mind and Sandra noticed immediately.

  “Will we reschedule that X-rated chat for tonight?” Sandra asked.

  “Yeah, I’d love that. Where are you staying now?”

  “I’m supposed to be in Dermot’s but I’m not sure the offer still stands.” Sandra looked down at her feet.

  “Why not? Has something happened?”

  Sandra didn’t answer.

  Cara changed the subject – she didn’t want to be nosy. “So what did you do on the week off anyway?” She threw the empty Coke can they had shared into the red recycle bin.

  “I’m not sure I can tell you. I’m not really sure I actually did it to be honest. I may have done a Dorothy and just had a very crazy dream.”

  Cara was looking in the bin. “Who keeps putting chocolate wrappers in this bin?” she asked as she removed some. “Did a what?” she asked then, wiping her hands down.

  “Well, basically I eloped for a week to have incredible sex with Jamie Keenan.” Sandra licked her fingers one at a time as Cara looked at her, her mouth stuck in a perfect O shape.

  “You are kidding me . . . aren’t you?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Well, good for you!” Cara said at last and closed her mouth tightly. She stood up to leave. “And I hope it was every damn bit as good as I am imagining it was right this very second?”

  “And then some,” Sandra said.

  Cara laughed all the way down the corridor and she could still hear Sandra’s giggles as she entered the kitchens.

  Chapter 26

  With Jonathan away for the day the hotel was even busier. He was now on his way back and they were all so frustrated that he didn’t have an answer from the bank just yet. They were to get back to him later that evening.

  “My God, now we see how much work he really does!” Cara said to Big Bob as she rang the window cleaner for the fifth time. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, there had been a gale-force wind and the sand ring was now splattered all over the windows.

  “I know it’s three days before Christmas, Mr Campbell, but that’s exactly why I need you today,” Cara implored the window cleaner. “Please, Mr Campbell, I will make it worth your while.” She smiled and draped herself over the reception desk in relief as he finally agreed to come later on in the afternoon.

  Cara and Sandra had passed each other running all day and every time they did they made hand signals, miming glasses of wine being poured down their necks later that evening.

  Sandra was just settling Alice in for the night shift when Dermot popped into the back office.

  “I’m heading down to the house for a shower,” he said. “Can I take anything down for you?”

  “Are you still sure it’s okay, Dermot? I mean, I understand if i
t’s not now after . . .”

  “After what?” He narrowed his eyes. “We are not dating as far as I am aware, Sandy, are we?” He winked at her.

  “I know, but you know what I mean – I’m morto.”

  “Don’t be.” He started blinking his eyes over and over while staring at her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, just looking at those mental pictures I took of your wonderful boobaloobies!”

  “Piss off, Dermot!”

  He smiled, bent down and grabbed her case. “Is this it? Is this all you have?”

  “Yeah, I dropped the rest at my folks’ place – I’ll get it all tomorrow.”

  “What time will you be down?”

  “Well, actually, I’m going to Cara’s for wine after work but you are more than welcome to join us?”

  “Nice one, I might. I’ll see. I’m away to the train station later to pick up Big J so I will let you know. Will you sleep there?”

  “I don’t know, Dermot, I might. Depends on how drunk I am.”

  “Sandra Darragh, what a lady you are!” He bowed as he shifted her case to his other arm and then pretended to pull his back.

  “Hilarious as always, Dermot. Oh and, by the way, that horse thing – when am I doing it again?”

  He came back closer to her and stood, his blond hair flopping from side to side as he shook his head. “That horse thing?” he asked her, amused.

  “Yes, you know, the horse thing I started a few weeks ago?”

  “Learning to ride, you mean?” His eyes were suddenly deadly serious.

  “Yeah, learning to ride.” She looked at him like he was mad.

  “D’ya remember years ago, Sandy – you were about eighteen and I was about, oh, twenty-six, and you asked me why I did ‘that horse thing’?” He leaned his elbows on her desk. “I told you it wasn’t a ‘horse thing’, it was my life. It still is. I live for those horses. If you took that yard away from me I don’t know what I’d do.”

  She coughed a short uncomfortable cough. Dermot rubbed his eyes and continued. “You told me that night in Hines you understood. You said that you could totally understand how someone would want to be around what they loved all the time. You were drunk. And then you said ‘When I get older and I’m having lots and lots of babies then I can bring them down to you. You could teach them to do that horse thing’.”

  Sandra felt a lump rise in her throat.

  “I always remembered that.”

  Then he left. What had he meant by all that? What was his point, she wondered as she tidied the main desk.

  ***

  Cara dashed to Louise’s and bought a couple of small homemade lasagnes and then dropped into O’Dwyer’s and bought more wine and nuts and crisps. She also bought fresh flowers. Then she trotted on home. It was a dark evening and the wind was cutting her in two but she felt okay. She had her panic-attack alarm in her pocket that she always kept her hand on. She reached the cottage and hurriedly opened the door and slammed it tight behind her. She had set the heating so the cottage was snug and warm.

  She popped the food into the oven, ready to be warmed up later. Then she put the white wine in the fridge and picked out some CDs. She was apprehensive but also looking forward to having a girly night in. Sandra would be another hour, so she had time to change and shower before their evening began.

  The wind was rattling the windows so she popped on a Beatles CD and turned the volume up loud. “My windows. The noise is my windows,” she muttered as she headed for the shower. She would call Esther after.

  No doubt Sandra would be shocked to the core by her story later and in a funny way she was looking forward to getting it all out. She had gone over and over the events with her counsellor but never with a friend. She started to undress as she wondered where she would start with Sandra. Start from the end and work your way back, she decided. The end was horrific.

  ***

  After Alex had left for Dubai Cara had scraped herself off the bathroom floor. She had no tears, funnily enough, just anger. Ever so slowly she threw some clothes into a couple of plastic bags from the kitchen drawer. She knew there was one thing she wanted to look at before she left this lunatic en route to the guards.

  She winced in agony as she stood on the bathtub and grabbed a long bath towel. She wound the towel into a long knotted shape and with a swoop of her hand tried to knock the black box from the top of the boiler with it. She missed and cried out in pain as she wound the towel up again. Blood was seeping from her head again and she knew she had to get out of here quickly. He could come back again. At any second. She wouldn’t put anything past him at this stage. She suddenly heard her father’s voice loud and clear: One more try, Cara, you can do it! She twisted the towel as tightly as she could and she swiped at the box again. This time she caught the edge of it and it tumbled down in slow motion, down into the bath. She slowly released her grip on the towel, dropped it into the bath and climbed down.

  The box was made of metal and locked with a small padlock. She rattled the box and items moved around inside it. She took it into the kitchen and opened the kitchen drawers. She rummaged around, throwing things on the ground in her hurry. She tried the small knife Alex used to slice peppers. The lock didn’t budge. She rummaged again and found some old silver hairclips at the bottom of a drawer. Alex was always on at her to put them in her bedroom drawers. She opened the clip out wide and pushed the skinny leg into the hole of the padlock. It didn’t click. She pushed and pushed again, twisted and turned it and the frustration was mounting in her. It didn’t work. She grabbed the box and bashed it off the side of the table and bashed again and again with all she had left in her until she managed to bend one corner of the lid slightly. She grabbed the big navy-handled scissors from the drawer now and slid it into the slit, then pushed and levered with all her might while the lid lifted more and more. She tried and could almost fit her hand in. Almost. She levered it again and suddenly one of the hinges gave way and the lid bent right back, exposing the items inside.

  She shook the box and the contents fell out onto the shiny wooden floor of the Sandymount apartment.

  There were a number of items, including several long locks of hair – blonde, black and chestnut.

  But she really saw only two: her mobile phone and her wallet.

  She dropped the box and stood very still, staring at them both as they came and went in and out of focus. She picked them up and held each one tight, one in her left hand and one in her right.

  So Alex had attacked her on the Quays that night. For some reason she kissed her wallet. It was as though she had just been handed her old life back.

  She wasted no more time. She grabbed the plastic bags and threw the items in.

  She opened the door and made her way out to the road to hail a taxi. The state of her, she wasn’t sure if one would stop, but one did eventually and suddenly she just wanted to go home before going to the police. She just wanted her mammy. The taxi driver knew better than to try and make small talk and he kindly put his foot down and got her to Harold’s Cross in double-quick time. She had no keys, she realised. She hoped Esther was in. She opened her old wallet and the money was still in it. She paid the taxi man with a huge tip.

  “You mind yourself, love.” He nodded at her as she slowly dragged herself out.

  “Oh! I am so terribly sorry – there’s blood on your seat! Here!” She pulled notes from her purse.

  “Ger away oudda that! Sure I’ll wash it down later. Me own daughter went through it, ya’ know – slimy bastard got away with it – if only I’d a caught him he wouldn’t be alive today.”

  Cara held her breath, fearful she would explode into horrendous tears, and waved at him as he drove away. She rang the bell. No answer but Victoria was barking. Esther couldn’t be gone far. Maybe she was in the supermarket – it was the one place she wasn’t allowed to bring Victoria with her. She slid through the half-open back gate and headed for the backdoor. As she got there sh
e could see a shadow moving through the bubbles of glass on the old-fashioned panes of the back door.

  The door was flung open and Alex stood in front of her.

  “Nice to see you again, Cara. Took your time. I was actually about to leave, thinking you weren’t coming. I actually nearly thought you were telling the truth for once in your pathetic life.”

  Jesus, where was Esther? Cara darted her eyes all around the kitchen as she stepped in but there was no sign of her. She must be out. She had to be out. Please, Esther, be out! Victoria barked again at Cara and Alex kicked the little dog so hard she flew across the room and bounced off the fridge. Whimpering, she fled for safety under the kitchen table.

  “What are you doing here, Alex?” Cara leaned back against the kitchen sink.

  “What are you doing here, you lying bitch? I thought you said you loved me and it was all okay? ‘I love you, Alex!’” he mimicked her voice, “‘It’s okay, Alex. I deserved it, Alex. For lying to you, Alex. Go to work, I will be fine, Alex!’ So why did you run back to your mammy? And don’t say it was a visit because you didn’t even change your clothes, the state of you! Did the neighbours see you like that?”

  He spat the words at her and she knew he was approaching his most dangerous again. The games were over. She leaned further back against the steel counter. “Where is my mother?”

  He laughed now. “Your mother, she’s nothing but a tramp. Did you know that?”

  Cara stared hard at him.

  “Did you know your precious Esther had an affair with my precious daddy? Did you know that, Cara Byrne? Esther Byrne’s the scrubber who my dad had the affair with!”

  Cara tried to take in what he was ranting about. “Where is she?” she asked again.

  Alex walked to the small white door under the stairs and kicked it violently. “Speak, tramp!” he called out.

  Cara heard a muffled voice from under the stairs. She was alive. For a brief moment there Cara had shuddered to think.

  “Can I see her?”

  “Why?” he asked.