Secrets and Lies

by Joanne Clancy

  Actually, Maura had slept with very few men, not that she hadn't had plenty of opportunity or offers but sleeping around was something that Maura O' Donnell simply did not do.

  One of her earliest sexual encounters had been with a fellow student which she had enjoyed and she'd had a brief liaison with a colleague several years previously. There had been a few drunken episodes with a well-known heart consultant but she hardly remembered their encounters so she assumed that they had not been particularly successful.

  Maura wisely thought it best not to reveal any of these details to her aunt.

  “Kerry played the game the right way,” Aunt Aisling would often say. “She landed that fine young Conor Darcy at a young age and that wonderful Ballycotton House too.”

  “I don't believe that Kerry purposely engineered her relationship with Conor,” Maura would protest. “I'm sure that it was all quite accidental. How could she possibly know that it was going to turn out so well for her?”

  “Kerry knew,” Aunt Aisling would reply with conviction. “She always was a clever girl.”

  “Kerry and Conor are very much in love,” Maura always tried to stand up for her sister. “There's no way that she could have controlled that!”

  “If you say so,” her aunt would say with a dismissive sniff.

  Maura went to the bank as usual for her regular Friday morning appointment with Desmond.

  The other women who worked at the bank greatly admired her. They envied her cool, casual yet very feminine attire and the way she seemed to float rather than walk into the bank. Her beauty seemed so effortless by comparison to their contrived efforts with too much make-up and overly conservative outfits.

  How they longed to exude the free spirit of Maura O' Donnell with her long, flowing hair and pale, unwrinkled makeup-free skin. Some of the women who worked at the bank vaguely thought that she might be attracted to Dermot Desmond but then they would ask themselves how that could be remotely possible. Dermot was surely the last man who someone as beautiful as Maura O' Donnell would find attractive. He had no ambition to climb the bank ladder and was constantly and happily flouting the bank rules and regulations. He had had many heated discussions with his manager about how he simply could not respect the bank's ethics and obviously his antics were not the way to be promoted. Surely someone like Maura O' Donnell would want a man who was a high-achiever and a big earner. It did strike them as interesting how Maura would usually wait until he was available and she always asked specifically for Dermot if he wasn't behind the desk.

  Maura enjoyed the easy, uncomplicated banter that she exchanged with Dermot and very much looked forward to seeing him every Friday afternoon.

  “I saw your brother-in-law in here the other day,” Dermot said somewhat conspiratorially to Maura.

  “Oh, really?” Maura asked. “I’m sure that must have been very exciting for you.”

  “Yes, I didn't realise that you and your sister were so very unalike. It's odd, you don't look remotely similar.”

  Maura glared at him, wondering where the conversation was headed.

  “No, but this woman looked like she was in her late twenties, years younger than you,” Dermot insisted, a suspicious glint in his eye.

  “Well, Kerry's always looked young for her age,” Maura retorted. “Anyway, how did you even know that it was my sister and brother-in-law?”

  “Oh, I saw a photograph of you with them in the newspaper a while ago. You were at the opening of some fancy restaurant together, that's how I recognised Conor, but Kerry looks entirely different. I suppose some people can look very different in photographs to how they are in person.”

  “I see,” Maura tried to keep her voice steady, but she was perturbed to realise the interest that Dermot seemed to have in her personal life and wondered what he was trying to imply about Conor? It was time to back off, she scolded herself. It’s time to stop being so friendly and flirty.

  Maura was tired of searching and hoping for love. She'd all but given up her expectations of ever finding a husband for herself. Men were complicated creatures; just when she thought she had figured them out they suddenly showed her that she still didn't have a clue, even at the ripe old age of forty two.

  Maura resented the inquisitive interest of her colleagues and friends when it came to her love life. There was no such thing as a private life in Cork City. It seemed as if everyone was trying to marry her off. Why was it beyond the realms of possibility that she might have a lover or even a string of lovers for all anyone else knew? She was successful and beautiful and everyone said she had a very engaging personality so why not? No, it was socially unacceptable not to be married at her age. She was nothing in anyone's eyes unless she found a husband and had children.

  Aunt Aisling was becoming more and more insufferable on the subject. She was forever reminding Maura that she was now in her early forties and with no marriage prospects. Kerry wasn't much help on her quest to find a mate. Her only recommendation was “to be yourself.” Yeah, right, being herself hadn't gotten her a husband yet. It was fine for Kerry with her adoring husband and loving children and altogether perfect life. Maura did envy Kerry's life but she loved her sister too much not to be happy for her at the same time.

  “You should sign up for a marriage agency,” was Aunt Aisling's latest shocking suggestion.

  “What planet are you on?” Maura glared incredulously at her aunt.

  “Why not give it a try? Desperate times call for desperate measures and I've heard of some people having great luck with agencies,” Aunt Aisling insisted. “At least you'd be meeting like-minded men; men who want to settle down and get married just like you.”

  “I'd like to have someone special to come home to after work,” Maura reluctantly admitted.“It would be lovely to have someone who was interested in me and who would always be on my side.”

  “Exactly, just like your Uncle Sean and me,” Aunt Aisling beamed.

  So it was that Maura O' Donnell signed up to Cork's foremost dating agency, Matchmaking Marriages, and waited nervously for her first date with her possible future husband. Maura cringed inwardly when she recalled her first marriage introduction.

  Ryan O' Shaughnessy was a dentist. They'd met at the trendy Stephen's on the Mall restaurant and enjoyed a pleasant evening chatting about a wide range of subjects. She'd found Ryan to be a pleasant, engaging dinner companion and she felt that he'd found her to be equally attractive, which was why she'd been so shocked at the abrupt way in which their evening ended.

  “I had a wonderful evening, Maura,” Ryan shook her hand warmly as they left the restaurant.

  “Thank you, Ryan, I enjoyed myself too,” Maura smiled her sweetest smile at him.

  “I hope we can be friends,” he continued.

  “Oh, um, yes, of course, me too,” Maura stuttered, her mind racing. What was he saying to her?

  “I don't think you're marriage material for me, but I'm glad we met.”

  “What do you mean, I'm not marriage material?” Maura couldn't help herself. She had to know why he wasn't interested in her. Men didn't knock her back, usually it was she who did the refusing.

  “I'm looking for a wife and mother to my future children and I don't believe we'll ever have that together. No offence, Maura, I just don't want to waste my time or yours,” and with that he turned on his heel and left her standing gaping after him.

  She'd felt utterly humiliated and shaken and couldn't get herself home fast enough. How dare Ryan O' Shaughnessy treat her in that appalling manner? Who did he think he was telling her that she wasn't suitable marriage material? Any man would be lucky to have her; everyone was always telling her as much. She'd actually decided before their dinner was finished that she'd like to have seen him again but he'd obviously thought otherwise. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory of their disastrous date and vowed that no man would ever treat her like that again. Her lack of a husband certainly wasn't for want of trying and she wished fervently that every
one would mind their own bloody business and stop meddling in her love life, or lack of one.

  Chapter 13

  “Typical Fire Horse man,” Chantale Decoursiere nodded sagely at her worried daughter. Chantale had decided to pay an unexpected visit to a stressed Hope and of course she expected Hope to drop everything to entertain her. Hope really wasn't in the mood for entertaining anyone, least of all her overly dramatic mother. It was two days before New Year's Eve and she hadn't seen her husband in almost three weeks. He was away on yet another one of his business trips but he had barely telephoned her in the entire time he'd been gone.

  “I've hardly spoken to Niall over Christmas,” Hope said. “I feel like he's avoiding me and he sounded so distracted when we did finally speak that it seemed as if he was snatching a few moments to speak to me. I don't know what's wrong.”

  “Don't worry, cherie, that's men for you, especially Fire Horse men.”

  “What are you talking about, mother?” Hope snapped. “Are we speaking a different language? What the hell is a Fire Horse man and what does it have to do with me?”

  Chantale coughed to hide her irritation at her daughter's irritable tone and sat up a little straighter in the hard kitchen chair where she always insisted on sitting. She refused to lounge on the comfortable sofa declaring that it played untold havoc with her back and she thought it unladylike to sit any way other than ramrod straight.

  “It's all in the Chinese zodiac, cherie.”

  “Please explain, mother.” Hope was exasperated but also begrudgingly intrigued.

  “Well, the Fire Horse personality is typically adventurous and energetic, dynamic and quick-witted, all qualities which I have seen in Niall,” Chantale knowingly explained, pausing for dramatic effect.

  “Go on,” Hope urged her mother who really didn't need much encouragement.

  “However, like everyone, they also have a dark side. They can be anxious, fickle, defiant and selfish.”

  Hope nodded, fascinated by her mother's words.

  “Niall is also an Aries which is the first sign of the zodiac and therefore the sign of new beginnings. The Arian is very open to new ideas and is a lover of freedom,” Chantale continued, beginning to warm to her subject.

  “Definitely sounds like Niall,” Hope sighed. “He certainly gets plenty of freedom away from me.”

  “Fire horse people are extremely independent and confident. The horse person is very quick-witted, inquisitive and determined. They are very good at recognising patterns; he is on to the thought in your mind even before you've expressed it and in general, these people are gifted. They adore being the centre of everyone's attention, but they prefer to be recognised for their skills and are easily flattered. However, Fire Horse people have an honesty and genuine warmth which attracts lots of people to them and helps them make new friends. People as a rule confide in a Horse person because he is sincerely interested in their thoughts and feelings and is able to help with both wise words and actions. Niall's astrological star sign of Aries indicates that he is a natural leader. Arians are intelligent and innovative. They like to start a project and lead the way.”

  “Niall thrives at work. He's managing director now, you know,” Hope interrupted.

  “Yes, he has achieved a lot in his life,” Chantale agreed.

  “How are Arians in their personal relationships?” Hope asked.

  “They are direct and enthusiastic and usually very generous.”

  “Niall is very generous,” Hope nodded. “He's generous with gifts and money, but I sometimes wish he was more generous with his time. I miss him so much when he's away.” She had a faraway look in her eyes which suddenly made Chantale feel uneasy. She decided to keep talking in the hope of lifting her daughter's mood.

  “It is easy to inspire the Fire Horse personality by new ideas and he tends to act on them without delay, carried away by the excitement of the moment, but it is also important to remember that there is a danger for a Fire Horse person to be too impulsive and it may cause some problems in the future. If they do not quickly see the result of their efforts, it is rather natural for them to turn their attention to a new project and head off once again, brimming with new ideas.

  The Fire Horse is always ready to offer good advice and can be very persuasive, but his confident and carefree approach hides inner doubts. Those who know such a person will recognise this, and offer the support and reassurance he needs. A male that is born in the year of the horse is considered to be a charming, suave person to women. Arians are very passionate and Arian men in particular are known for their Don Juan persona.”

  Hope shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn't want to hear such things in reference to her husband.

  “However, I'm sure that doesn't apply to Niall,” Chantale insisted quickly, noticing the shadow of worry that flickered across her daughter's face. “It's obvious to anyone that he is completely besotted with you. Did you know that there were reportedly thousands of abortions in Japan in 1966, a year of the Fire Horse? Japanese prospective parents were so worried about having a Fire Horse child that they preferred to abort them!”

  “That's dreadful! Why on earth do the Japanese hold the Fire Horse in such dread?” Hope asked in horror.

  “They believe that a Fire Horse child will bring misfortune and drama to the family. The Fire Horse's exacerbated individualism, monstrous ego and utter disdain for the virtue of family loyalty and tradition tend to substantiate such a belief.”

  “That's definitely not true in Niall's case,” Hope protested. “He loves his family and he would never dream of doing anything that would remotely hurt us.” She looked as if she was about to burst into tears and her mother realised that she had gone too far.

  “Arians love the colour red,” Chantale moved on to a more light-hearted aspect of the star sign. “Their star stone is the precious diamond which was revered throughout the ages for its great beauty and strength and also for its powerful and positive spiritual influences.”

  Hope glanced at the sparkling diamond of her engagement ring and studied it as it caught the light.

  “Diamonds are said to enhance the wearer with charm and beauty. The ancient Romans believed that diamonds strengthened the kidneys and reproductive organs and gave protection against severe diseases. The Romans also believed that the diamond, when worn on the left arm, would give the wearer bravery and daring.”

  “You are a fount of knowledge, mother,” Hope smiled.

  “I've always been passionate about star signs,” Chantale continued. “I can usually figure out someone's sign shortly after meeting them. Anyway, I must dash.” Chantale suddenly got to her feet. “My neighbour has invited me for afternoon tea and you know how I hate to be late. I might pop up to see you later, darling.”

  She kissed her daughter goodbye affectionately on both cheeks and swept out of the apartment leaving a fragrant waft of her signature scent in the air behind her.

  Chantale had decided to move permanently to Cork. She'd divorced yet another husband and had wanted a fresh start, a new beginning somewhere else. She wanted to be closer to her daughter and she fell in love with Cork from the moment she arrived.

  “It's very bijou here, like a little Paris,” she affectionately described the city.

  She'd used the money from her generous divorce settlement to purchase an apartment in the same block as Hope and Niall. Hope liked the idea of having her mother so close but sometimes thought she was too close for comfort. She was constantly dropping in on her and Niall unannounced. Hope couldn't believe how much her mother knew about their neighbours. She knew nearly everyone by name and was on speaking terms with most of the other tenants. Hope had lived in the block for almost a year and still didn't know the name of her next door neighbour!

  Chantale was a naturally inquisitive person and within a few short weeks of moving into Appleby Apartments she had made it her business to get to know everyone. She had a natural affinity with people and easily charmed new
acquaintances with her engaging personality. Hope never ceased to be amazed about how much her mother discovered about her neighbours' personal business.

  “I'm interested in other people, that's all and I genuinely like most people,” Chantale explained.

  Hope knew that there was a grain of truth in her mother's words but it was more that her mother was outrageously inquisitive and direct in her interactions.

  Her mother already knew the best places to eat in the city and was busily networking with the department stores' personal shoppers. Chantale took great pride in her appearance and was always dressed immaculately. It seemed as if she had a very extensive wardrobe but if you studied her carefully she actually only had a few well-cut, expensive outfits which she expertly accessorised and coordinated.

  She despised cheap clothing and had been known to go without meals in her youth to save for an expensive outfit. She was quite shocked at what was seen as high-fashion by some young women in Cork. Many of them had cheap and obvious good looks but wore too much makeup and too tight or too short clothes and wore heels that were much too high.

  Chantale was a live wire, full of energy and passion for life. She loved to be busy and ran a part-time business from her apartment as a style consultant. It was a way for her to indulge her eye for fashion and she had an uncanny knack for transforming the frumpiest of outfits with a few carefully chosen accessories. She was already beginning to make a name for herself as a bit of a style icon in the city centre and several people in the apartment block had shown an interest in having a personal style consultation with her. Chantale adored the buzz about Cork City and enjoyed the friendliness of the locals.

  Hope curled up on the couch and wrapped her fingers tightly around the comforting cup of strong tea that she'd just poured herself. She was a self-confessed tea addict; whenever there was anything to be celebrated or commiserated in her life she acknowledged the moment with tea. Barry's tea, Cork's own brand, was her favourite. She checked her phone for the umpteenth time but there was still no message from Niall.