Forgive and Forget

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Stop now,’ she ordered herself sternly as she slid out of her robe and took her dress down off the hook on the back of the bedroom door. That moment with Barry and Debbie had nearly been the undoing of her. It was one she’d always hoped for and never thought would happen. Momentous events had certainly taken place within their family in the past few months, but this had surpassed everything. ‘My darling girl’, he’d called their daughter, and Debbie hadn’t rebuffed him. She’d been delighted. Someone was working miracles for them this day, Connie thought gratefully as she unwrapped the tissue paper and let it fall on the floor, revealing the dress she was wearing to the wedding.

  She skimmed it down over her head and let it settle around her, the material soft, yielding, as it snaked down over her hips. She settled the straps, straightened the seams, stepped into her shoes and slipped on the cream bolero jacket that finished off the outfit.

  Connie stood back and looked at her reflection in the mirror and felt a moment of pride. She did look good, and she wasn’t going to be modest about it, she thought with a grin. Slender and supple – no, definitely not, she thought ruefully, but the half-stone she’d lost was noticeable and she looked sensual and womanly, she decided approvingly as she studied the curve of her waist to her hip.

  Her dress, a purple hammered satin with a slight cowl neck and narrow lace straps, had an asymmetrical seam across the body which drew the eye down to the bubble hem, which fell just to the knees. It was simple and unfussy and the bias cut was extremely flattering. The neckline showed a hint of tanned cleavage and she wore an amethyst on a gold chain that emphasized her colour and nestled provocatively between her breasts. The jacket was a smart contrast and gave the outfit its final touch.

  ‘Certainly not mother-of-the-bridey,’ she muttered with satisfaction as she twisted and turned, admiring herself. Aimee could arrive in the most expensive haute couture – which she probably would, Connie thought snootily – but it wouldn’t cost her a thought. This outfit would take her anywhere and Debbie could be proud of her.

  ‘Right. Chin up, let’s get going,’ she said to Hope, who was rubbing herself against her leg looking for a cuddle.

  She bent down, lifted her little black cat and gave her a kiss. ‘See you tomorrow, darling. I’ll have loads to tell you,’ she murmured against her silky ear, as Hope meowed companionably before marching downstairs ahead of her mistress with her tail held high.

  ‘Mum, it’s gorgeous. So sexy!’

  ‘My God, Connie! You look . . . stunning!’

  ‘I don’t think I’m going to get a look-in with any of the men at this wedding, Auntie!’

  Connie laughed at the reaction of the trio in the lounge who were awaiting her arrival, sipping the pink champagne that Barry had brought.

  ‘Mum, that dress is fabulous on you, and the colour is perfect. It’s really sophisticated. I’ve never seen you look so well. I don’t know what I was expecting . . . a . . . a two-piece with a hat!’ Debbie confessed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she made Connie do a twirl.

  ‘Gee, thanks.’ Connie made a face at her.

  ‘Well, it’s a real change of image for you – maybe I was exaggerating about the hat,’ Debbie teased, thrilled with her mother’s new look.

  ‘Ma said it was very glamorous, and she was right. You look the biz, Connie. You and me should go on the prowl.’ Jenna grinned, raising her glass to her.

  ‘Definitely,’ laughed Connie, having this mad vision of herself and Jenna trawling the nightclubs.

  ‘A glass of bubbly?’ Barry held a slender flute out to her, his eyes moving up and down as he took in every bit of her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said gaily, more than pleased at their reactions. She hadn’t shown Debbie the dress she’d bought, wanting to surprise her, and she’d certainly done that, judging by her daughter’s response. Only Karen, who had been with her when she bought it, had seen it. And, if it hadn’t been for her sister-in-law, she’d never have considered such a chic, expensive outfit. Karen had pooh-poohed her fears that it was too young and too girlish for her mature years.

  ‘Absolutely not! It takes ten years off you. You’re not going to this wedding looking like a frump. It’s about time you changed your image and spent a bit of money on yourself. It’s not at all girly, trust me. Classy, sexy, yes – girly, no! Would I let you out in something that wasn’t right for you?’ she demanded. ‘Would I let you out looking like mutton dressed as lamb? Especially with Aimee coming to the wedding.’

  ‘No,’ Connie admitted, still unsure. Mind, it did camouflage her tummy wobble very well, and the slight ruching under the neckline was very flattering to her boobs.

  ‘Buy it, and don’t show it to anyone until the day of the wedding,’ Karen had instructed, and Connie was glad she’d done as she was told, and even more pleased that she’d lost the few pounds since buying it, making it hang even better on her.

  Barry’s fingers lingered on hers as she took the glass from him. ‘You look amazing,’ he said softly, his eyes full of admiration. Connie felt another frisson of satisfaction as she took a sip of the pink liquid. The tables had turned nicely in their relationship and she was human enough to enjoy it. It was an added and unexpected bonus to this – up until now – dreaded wedding. And it was a surprise to her that she felt this way.

  Her self-confidence was soaring again after the interactions between her and Barry. He’d made it obvious that he was interested again. If it was in her, she could lead him up the garden path and drop him as callously as he had dropped her. Would she be that bitchy? Getting your own back was a most satisfying thing to do, but surely she was mature enough to have got over that particular itch! Sometimes she surprised herself, Connie thought wryly, as she held out her glass for the top-up he was offering her.

  ‘This is nice champagne.’ She smiled.

  ‘Only the best for the day that’s in it,’ her ex-husband declared, topping up the girls’ drinks before coming to stand beside her again. ‘That’s a terrific colour on you,’ he said appreciatively. ‘I’ve never seen you look so dressed up.’

  ‘You look pretty nifty yourself,’ she praised, and his eyes lit up. His dark, expensively tailored suit looked extremely well on him. He looked every inch the successful, affluent businessman that he was.

  ‘Here.’ She picked up a white carnation that was lying beside Debbie’s bouquet of sweet pea, pink roses, freesias and jasmine. She tucked it into his buttonhole, tweaking it until it sat just right. What a wifely thing to be doing, she thought. He was wearing an aftershave that was very perfumed. No doubt a gift from Aimee. She always did go for the strong scent.

  ‘Thanks,’ he murmured. His arms tightened around her, and before she knew it he had given her a kiss on the lips. She caught Debbie’s astonished I told you so look and almost laughed.

  Today was a day for game-playing, Connie thought in amusement, and she would play them. Her life would be boring enough when all the excitement had died down. ‘Right, drink up everyone, we’ve got a wedding to go to,’ she ordered crisply, pushing away from Barry. If it had just been the two of them in the room, would she have kissed him back?

  That was twice in less than a month that she’d felt his lips on hers and enjoyed it. She needed a man, that was her problem. Pity Bryan’s friends were so young. She didn’t think a toy boy would be her style but, then, who was to know? Once Debbie was married, she had no real commitments any more. The only person she had to think about was herself. How liberating, she thought with a sudden sense of giddy recklessness.

  If a man was what she wanted, it was time to go and find one!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Judith opened the boot of her car and stowed her overnight case neatly into its immaculate interior. She was so looking forward to this day. She was meeting her friend, Jillian, in a hotel on a picturesque lake, just at the edge of Virginia in Cavan, and they were going to indulge themselves in all manner of beauty treatments in the hotel’s luxury spa. She
’d booked a facial, manicure and pedicure and a body wrap and massage. The thought of it had kept her going for ages, especially during the last week in the office, when all the talk had been about Debbie Adams’ forthcoming wedding.

  She’d found it irritating, to say the least, and a skittish atmosphere had pervaded her section, which had led to much chit-chat, gossiping and sloppy work. As a consequence, she’d had to put her foot down and was made to feel like a real party-pooper. She wasn’t paid a good salary for being popular, Judith acknowledged, but it annoyed the hell out of her that some of her staff acted like sixteen-year-olds, when they should know better.

  Three of the girls were going to the wedding, and two of them had arrived back to work an hour and a half late after lunch earlier in the week with the excuse that they were buying the wedding present from the collection that had been taken up in the office. Judith had been hopping mad and let them know in no uncertain terms that buying wedding presents was something to be undertaken on their own time, whether it was a staff collection or not. She’d received a few filthy looks after that particular edict. She knew she was being a little heavy-handed but she didn’t care. She was in such foul humour in the weeks following her bust-up with Tom that she wasn’t interested in being popular at work.

  She found herself irrationally resenting her coworkers’ thoughtless, carefree joie de vivre. Judith felt as though life was rubbing her nose in it, reminding her of what she could have had if she’d stood her ground and left home when her father had died.

  Most of the girls had gone out that night for a booze-up with Madam Adams, and a few of them had arrived into the office the following morning hungover and unable to concentrate on their work. The wages and salaries section couldn’t afford to make mistakes and, if mistakes were made, it was Judith who got the flack for it. She’d had to be extra vigilant the past week and she resented it enormously. Those girls were getting paid well for doing a job that had to be double-checked by her because she couldn’t depend on them. She knew she was beginning to think like a cantankerous old biddy – even worse, she was turning into a cantankerous old biddy, she’d thought glumly as she locked up that night at the end of a fraught day.

  She’d gone home like an antichrist, and Lily had told her if her job was too much for her she should consider changing it, which had put her in an even worse humour. Her mother hadn’t a clue about responsibilities; she couldn’t even take responsibility for looking after herself. Judith had felt like telling her to shut up and mind her own business and had restrained herself with great difficulty. She’d been very tempted to go on a bender, but memories of the last one and the self-loathing she’d felt after it were still relatively fresh so she went for a walk in the park instead. That hadn’t helped much either. All she had seen were couples walking hand in hand, and that had made her feel even more depressed and alone.

  Thank God all the wedding nonsense would be over after today, Judith thought, looking at the clear blue sky and thinking what a perfect day it was to be getting married. Typical of Debbie Adams’ luck. It had pissed rain for the past three days, sheets of it lashing down on the country, causing floods and traffic chaos. The unseasonable, appalling weather had dominated the news and discussions on global warming criss-crossed the airwaves. Judith had been rather pleased that it was raining so hard, having heard that Debbie, who always had to be different, was having a barbecue. She knew she was being mean-spirited, wishing disaster on the younger girl’s day, and that made her feel even worse about herself, if that was possible.

  It seemed, despite her sour bad vibes, that her colleague’s wedding feast wouldn’t be a wash-out after all. Judith felt envy smother her, its tentacles squeezing her insides. How was it that some people seemed to have everything in life so easy and others, like her, had to struggle? she asked herself yet again.

  She was a good person – she’d taken care of her father, and she was still making huge sacrifices for her mother – could she not have been gifted with a kind man and the security of marriage? Was she so unworthy? she wondered in a sudden deluge of self-pity.

  Debbie Adams no doubt would be knocking on her office door soon enough to tell her that she was pregnant and looking to book her maternity leave and, then, she’d be like the rest of the mothers who worked for the firm, expecting as their due special conditions to go for medical check-ups and, then, when they eventually did swan back to work after the birth, time off to collect their brat from the crèche, or to bring it to the doctor or for any other of the host of excuses that she was presented with daily.

  Yesterday, she’d overheard Jacinta Cleary’s frantic attempts to get someone to collect her daughter from school because her childminder had taken ill, and she obviously hadn’t been successful, because she’d come and informed Judith that she was taking a half-day’s leave, ten minutes later. Everyone else had to give notice that they were taking annual leave; the mothers in the firm just took it, without a thought as to whether it impacted on the work the rest of them had to do.

  You really were penalized for being childless and single, at work and at home, she thought grimly. Well, she wouldn’t be giving Debbie Adams one bit of leeway, because she didn’t deserve it. She wasn’t even a good employee in her single state; it was far from likely that marriage would make any improvement in her work ethic. Getting married and having children was her problem and not her employers’. Judith frowned, the enjoyment going out of her day as she had a vision of Debbie floating up the aisle, blissful, radiant, and taking it all as her due.

  She felt a sudden vicious, irrational loathing of her young fellow worker as she slammed the boot shut and went into the house to ring her sister to see what was keeping her. Cecily was taking Lily for the weekend but, as usual, had not arrived as planned, and was sure to have some outlandish excuse for her tardiness.

  She was heartily sick of her family, sick of them pulling out on her, treating her as though she was there solely for their convenience, thinking that she had no life of her own. Well, you don’t have a life of your own apart from work, she thought moodily, wondering why she was going into destruct mode and ruining the day she’d been looking forward to so much with her negativity.

  Sometimes she was her own worst enemy. What was her problem? Was she afraid of life? Was it this fear that had kept her from taking a risk that might have allowed her to walk up the aisle? Was she more like her mother in that regard than she cared to admit? Afraid of change, afraid of new experiences and the challenges life threw up? Afraid of standing on her own two feet? ‘Oh for God’s sake, give it a rest,’ she muttered, stalking into the house like a demon.

  Lily watched her daughter’s face redden with temper as she spoke to her sister on the phone. Her heart sank. Cecily was obviously going to be late and Judith was getting into one of her humours. They were getting worse lately, and Lily was at her wits’ end. Ever since she’d come home from the hospital several weeks ago, Judith had been in increasingly bad form. Lily had demanded to know what was wrong with her but had got a surly ‘Nothing’ in reply.

  ‘Well, don’t be taking your bad temper out on me,’ Lily had retorted, but she was concerned nevertheless and knew something was up. Her daughter had come home from work in foul humour every day last week. Lily had suggested that if she wasn’t up to the job she should change it for one with less responsibility. Needless to say, Judith had gone through her for a short cut and told her ‘not to be talking ridiculous nonsense!’

  It had to be more than the change of life, Lily fretted as she’d retired to her sitting room to lick her wounds. She envied her neighbour across the road, who was going out to the cinema with her two daughters, who were most solicitous of her and obviously loved her dearly. Salty tears had slid down her cheeks and she’d never felt as lonely. Neither of her daughters loved her. She was a burden to them, Lily knew that. But, of her three children, she loved Judith, the only one who hadn’t abandoned her. She worried about her and she felt guilty because she’d
held her back.

  All the delight she’d felt that her eye operation was a success and that she could read again with ease was tempered with anxiety. Did her daughter have no idea how nerve-racking it was to be considered such a burden? Had she no idea of the fears that tormented Lily? What would happen if she became frail and dependent? Would Judith dump her in a nursing home, fed up at having to make continuous sacrifices?

  Lily felt a flutter of fear, that familiar black, soulless companion that had accompanied her all her life. She’d seen the reports on the news about nursing homes closing because of bad conditions. She’d read about the elderly being left abandoned in these places by their families, with no one to come and visit. Growing old was frightening. Nothing was assured. She felt no sense of security at all. The way Judith was behaving these days was enough to keep even a buddha on edge, Lily reflected. She’d been relieved when her daughter had told her that she was going for a walk after her rude retort. The palpable air of tension had eased as Judith closed the front door behind her and, for the first time since Ted had died, Lily wondered would she be better off living by herself. At least she wouldn’t have to be worrying about whether anyone else was in a good humour or not. Her nerves wouldn’t be jangling every evening listening to the key in the door and wondering what sort of mood Judith was in.

  Lily sighed as she remembered that recent uncharacteristic contemplation. She’d been tempted to tell Cecily that she was going to stay on her own when Judith had her night away with Jillian. But, as usual, she’d chickened out. Now she was sorry, she decided, as she heard the kitchen door slam and Judith snap.

  ‘Well, I’m going now. I can’t wait for you. You were supposed to be here half an hour ago. It’s typical of you, Cecily, you don’t give a damn about anyone else.’ Judith marched into Lily’s sitting room, grim-faced. ‘Ma, Cecily’s running late, and if I don’t go I won’t get there in time and I’ll miss some of the treatments I’ve booked.’