Forgive and Forget

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Well, it certainly isn’t a boring wedding.’ Karen laughed, enjoying the gossip.

  ‘It’s a bloody warm wedding though.’ Connie blew some air up her face.

  ‘Oh dear, feeling hot, are we?’ teased Karen.

  ‘Yes, and it’s global warming that’s the cause of it, so don’t even mention any of your crackpot theories, or the M word,’ Connie warned. ‘Oh cripes, there’s Mam and Barry having a little chat, that’s enough to make anyone feel hot and bothered. I bet she’ll have a go at him. Oh no,’ she groaned. ‘I don’t need that on top of everything else.’

  ‘So what? Let them at it. It’s not your problem,’ advised Karen. ‘The wedding’s going great, it’s relaxed and fun despite the behind-the-scenes shenanigans. Here, get this into you.’ She grabbed a glass of champagne from the good-looking waiter Sarah and Melissa had been ogling and handed it to her sister-in-law.

  ‘He’s rather dishy, isn’t he?’ Connie murmured appreciatively. ‘I’ve decided I need a man for a bit of diversion.’

  ‘I’ve been telling you that for years,’ laughed Karen. ‘You go, girl, it’s all about you now.’

  ‘You look well,’ his ex-mother-in-law said brusquely as Barry came by the table to enquire if everyone had a drink.

  ‘Thank you, Stella. Are you enjoying the day?’ he said smoothly, determined not to be irked by her. She was one person he hadn’t missed when he and Connie had separated.

  ‘It’s very nice and er . . . informal.’ She managed to make it sound like an insult.

  ‘That’s what Debbie and Bryan wanted, and it’s their day,’ he said briskly.

  ‘I hope they’ll be very happy.’ The unspoken implication, Not like you and Connie, hovered.

  ‘I hope so too.’

  ‘And is your . . . er . . . other family here?’ Stella sniffed.

  ‘Debbie’s sister, is here, yes.’ He nodded.

  ‘Ah, would that be the plump young girl in the jeans?’

  Crabby old crone, Barry thought, wondering how Connie and her mother could be so different.

  ‘I must introduce you.’ It was hard to stay polite.

  ‘Do that, I’d like to meet her,’ his ex-father-in-law said, holding out his hand in greeting and shooting his wife a stern look. ‘Very nice wedding, Barry. Well done to you and Connie.’

  ‘Thanks, Jim. I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening,’ he said warmly. He’d always liked his father-in-law, a quiet man who had never interfered. Unlike his wife.

  ‘It was nice to see you sitting beside Connie in the church. It brought back memories of the day Debbie was christened, when you were still man and wife, although I suppose the church would still consider you man and wife even now,’ Stella observed, saccharine-sweet. Connie and Barry had not sought a church annulment seeing as Aimee hadn’t wanted to have a religious ceremony.

  ‘I don’t have much time for the church, to be frank.’ Barry had had enough. The gloves were off; he wasn’t going to kowtow to Stella any longer. He’d tried to behave politely, but she wasn’t playing the game.

  ‘Ummm,’ sneered Stella. ‘Well, I suppose that’s fairly apparent.’ Her beady eyes gleamed triumphantly at her withering put-down. Barry kept his temper with difficulty. He wanted to tell her to get lost and have some manners, but he wouldn’t upset Connie by giving her mother a tongue-lashing.

  ‘How could you take a religion seriously when its titular head goes around wearing a pointed hat, very expensive red designer shoes and chunky gold jewellery? And tells other churches that they’re not “proper” churches. Grow up, I say. Get over yourselves. Thanks but no thanks, Stella; you can keep your church. Poor Jesus must be disgusted. Isn’t all this nonsense supposed to be said in His name?’ he retorted.

  ‘The Pope is infallible,’ Stella pointed out, aghast at his scorn.

  ‘Bully for him! Aah, look, here’s the food. Tuck in and enjoy,’ he said, relieved at the interruption, as a huge platter of steaming food was placed on the table.

  ‘Good enough for you and the chap is right. Now whist up and stop trying to cause trouble, Stella.’ Jim chuckled, leaning over to help himself to a succulent Peking duck roll.

  That told you, Stella. Barry grinned as he moved away to join his mother and aunt at their table.

  He scanned the menu. Nice grub, he approved as he read it.

  Selection of Appetizers

  Thai fishcakes with lemongrass and coriander and a sweet chilli dipping sauce

  Crispy vegetable and noodle spring roll with a cucumber and red onion relish

  Soy-glazed Peking duck rolls with hoi sin sauce Prawn crackers

  Buffet-style Main Course

  Barbecued chicken breasts South-East Asian-style with a nuoc nam dipping sauce

  Sizzling swordfish in banana leaves

  BBQ fillet steaks marinated in balsamic and rosemary with honey-mustard pan jus

  Baby baked potatoes with olive oil and coarse sea salt

  Chargrilled vegetables with slow-roasted tomatoes and melted red peppers tossed in garlic and thyme

  Mesclun leaf salad with fresh herbs and a lemon vinaigrette

  Dessert

  Passion fruit tart with vanilla cream and fresh berries

  Handmade chocolate bags filled with blackberry fool

  Tea/coffee/green tea/peppermint tea

  Homemade truffles

  Not a burger in sight! He could have brought any of his golfing buddies to the wedding and not been embarrassed. Well done, Debbie and Bryan, he silently saluted them. The smell wafting from the barbecue in the courtyard was mouth-watering, and he realized he was starving as a waiter placed a platter of appetizers on the table.

  ‘Help yourselves and eat up, everyone,’ Barry urged. ‘I’m going to enjoy this, and the great thing is, I don’t have to make a speech afterwards.’

  ‘Well, we’ll be thankful for small mercies,’ his mother said dryly, biting into a mouthful of fishcake. ‘Where’s Melissa and her friend?’

  ‘Keeping well away from me,’ he said acidly. ‘She pulled a fast one and didn’t wear the dress Aimee bought her, and she knows we’re not too happy about it so she’s avoiding me like the plague.’

  ‘Ah, she’s young,’ pacified his mother. ‘What child likes the clothes their mother chooses for them?’

  ‘She likes them well enough when they’re expensive jeans and tops, but you don’t wear them to a wedding. She looks like she’s going to a disco,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Well, I’m sure there will be one later. Don’t give out to her too much.’

  ‘Softie.’ He smiled, glancing over to where Melissa and Sarah were laughing their heads off at something Debbie was saying as she took a photo of them with Bryan and the best man.

  ‘Nice sight, isn’t it?’ Connie smiled as she followed his gaze. She’d just stopped at the table to make sure her in-laws had been served their starter.

  ‘It’s a great sight, one I thought I’d never see. We did well.’ Barry got up to stand beside her.

  ‘We did very well, considering everything, Barry. And thanks for all the support with the wedding. I think it’s going better than I’d expected, to be honest. Because I just wasn’t sure what it was going to be like.’

  ‘I know. It’s very laid-back but everything’s just right. So let’s relax and enjoy ourselves. We’ve done our duty,’ he suggested, loosening his tie.

  ‘Try the fishcakes, Hilda, they’re scrumptious,’ Connie urged her ex-mother-in-law. ‘Joan, don’t be shy, eat up.’ She smiled at his aunt.

  ‘Had one, going to attack the spring rolls now,’ laughed Barry’s mother.

  ‘Me too,’ echoed her sister.

  ‘Enjoy it. Try everything. See you later.’ Connie smiled warmly at the two elderly ladies before moving off to complete the rest of her rounds.

  ‘I’m very, very fond of her and I always admired her for the way she didn’t let your break-up stop me from seeing Debbie. She’s a dote,’ Hilda declared.

>   ‘Yes she is, the best in the world. Connie’s a very classy lady.’ Barry watched his ex-wife stop at another table to talk to Bryan’s mother.

  ‘Pity you left her,’ his Aunt Joan murmured sotto voce. She didn’t like Aimee at all and could never understand why Barry had done a runner on Connie.

  ‘What?’ Barry turned to face her, not having heard what she’d said.

  ‘I was simply agreeing with you.’ She smiled innocently. ‘It’s a wonder she hasn’t been snapped up. Now that Debbie’s reared and flown the nest she’ll have the freedom to live her own life.’

  ‘I suppose she will.’ And I hope I’m a big part of it, he thought as he took a very welcome draught of ice-cold beer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ‘Are you happy?’ Bryan asked as he swept Debbie around the floor for their first dance as man and wife, to the sound of ‘I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You’.

  ‘Deliriously. Are you?’ She snuggled into him.

  ‘Yeah. It’s been a fantastic day, better than I hoped it would be. Everyone’s enjoying themselves. And they’re all saying how different it is. I’m glad we didn’t go the “boring” route.’

  ‘Me too, everything went so well. The food was fantastic; the violinist played beautifully; no speeches, no formality. We pulled it off and the parents were great. They let us have it the way we wanted and they rowed in behind us,’ Debbie said gratefully.

  ‘Your dad’s been sound, and those two kids are having a grand time.’ Bryan laughed, glancing over at Melissa and Sarah, who were flirting with one of his mates and giggling hysterically.

  ‘Ohmigod, you’re soooo funny,’ Melissa was chirruping.

  ‘They’re a bit pissed. Dad’s really taken his eye off the ball there.’ Debbie nibbled his ear.

  ‘He’s too busy following your mother around,’ Bryan observed. ‘I think he wants to get back with her. They’re getting on very well.’

  ‘Do you think?’ She pulled away a little and looked at him in surprise. ‘I think exactly the same thing. Wouldn’t that be perfect, if our wedding brought them back together?’

  ‘It might cause complications,’ he pointed out, pulling her back to him. ‘Don’t forget there’s Melissa to think of.’

  ‘Pity. I’d like to see my mother happy,’ Debbie said regretfully.

  ‘She’s happy. Now let me make you happy,’ he grinned, giving her a long lingering kiss as their guests cheered before joining them on the dance floor.

  Connie laughed heartily as her partner, one of Bryan’s friends, swung her around enthusiastically as they danced an Irish reel to the toe-tapping sound of a bodhran, fiddle and banjo.

  ‘This is great fun,’ she gasped. ‘A fantastic way to end the night.’

  ‘The night’s only starting, woman,’ Steve scoffed as he spun her into his arms.

  ‘It’s been a good wedding, hasn’t it?’

  ‘One of the best I’ve ever been to, thanks very much to yourself and Debbie’s dad. You were great to let them have the wedding they wanted. A lot of parents impose their own ideas on a wedding. My mother and sister had terrible rows.’

  ‘That’s a shame. We felt it was important that they should do their own thing. It wasn’t worth the hassle to argue, to be honest,’ Connie said, hardly able to talk she was so breathless.

  ‘I’ve been to three weddings in the last year. Dull, long-drawn-out ordeals. Getting a wedding invite is like getting a summons these days, and my heart sank when I got the invite to this one, but I’ve had a ball. A barbecue was a terrific idea. Now, come on, Missus, let’s show these kids how to Riverdance.’ Steve smirked, giving a good imitation of Michael Flatley as he tried to tap dance. Connie hooted with laughter. She hadn’t had as much fun in ages. It was great to let her hair down, and the candle-lit courtyard was buzzing as a buttery full moon hung suspended in the sky, adding to the atmosphere.

  Aimee, you’re missing a fun night, she thought, as she kicked up her heels and joined her dance partner in a riotous jig.

  Barry scowled as he watched Connie dance uninhibitedly with a chap young enough to be her son. She was tipsy and she didn’t care. He’d had one dance with her, a waltz, and then she’d been off dancing with every young buck who asked her. She ought to act her age, he thought crossly.

  Melissa and Sarah were in the middle of the throng in their bare feet, having abandoned their high heels to join in the Irish dancing. Their eyes were suspiciously bright, their cheeks roaring red, and he figured they’d been imbibing a little too heartily, even though he’d bought them several rounds of soft drinks. He felt guilty. He’d been so busy trying to impress Connie he hadn’t given them much thought. If he brought the pair of them home in this state he’d lose the high ground that he inhabited over the money issue. Aimee would never let him forget that he’d allowed their daughter and her friend to have too much to drink. He’d had a few drinks himself as the night wore on, and he certainly wouldn’t be driving home but, hell, he was at his daughter’s wedding. If he couldn’t relax and enjoy himself at that, when could he?

  He could always book the girls into a room, he supposed. That would be the icing on the cake for them, he thought fondly, glad to see his youngest daughter so giddy and happy-go-lucky, even if she was a little the worse for wear. He made his way to reception and was lucky enough to secure a twin room for them, as there were still vacancies. He gave his credit card details and a thought struck him. He didn’t particularly want to go home tonight either. All he had to look forward to there was an arctic welcome and sleeping on his own side of the bed with no crossing over the dividing line. He’d be as well off staying, and that way he’d be able to escort Connie to her room. Who knew what might happen? he thought, feeling suddenly horny as he remembered their last night of passion. ‘Would you have another double room for myself?’ he asked the young man behind the desk.

  ‘Yes sir. We have doubles and suites free, whichever you prefer.’

  ‘A double’s fine,’ Barry said, flipping open his mobile. ‘Girls and I staying at hotel,’ he texted Aimee, and wasn’t surprised not to get a reply.

  Aimee read Barry’s text and felt a surge of self-pity. They must be having a good time if they were staying at the hotel. He obviously didn’t mind leaving her on her own while they partied the night away. And to think Melissa had once moaned so much about having to go to the wedding. What an irony.

  It had been the pits of a day, Aimee thought dejectedly. She still couldn’t get over Gwen turning on her the way she had. No doubt she’d been on the tom-toms to Jill, Sally and the rest of them. Let them gossip – what did she care? She rarely saw them these days anyway. They’d miss her more than she’d miss them, she thought irritably, getting into bed.

  She turned over on her side and pulled the soft Egyptian cotton sheet over her shoulder. Barry’s text had been short and sweet. He was obviously still mad about her behaviour. Maybe it was just as well he was staying the night at the hotel. There was nothing worse than lying in bed in tense, glacial silence. She was feeling a little off colour anyway. Probably exhaustion, she thought tiredly. It had been a rough couple of weeks work-wise. She needed to be on top form for the O’Leary wedding next week. It was key to the advancement of her career. And advance she would, Aimee vowed as her eyes closed and she fell into a fitful doze.

  ‘I’m telling you, she barely let on she recognized me.’ Gwen took a slug of wine and tried to ignore the anger she felt after Aimee’s snub. ‘She was walking out of the Shelbourne with some burly, florid bloke in a pinstriped suit—’

  ‘I bet that was Roger O’Leary, that property guy she’s doing the wedding for,’ Jill reflected, savouring her melt-in-the-mouth lemon sole. ‘Nice restaurant, I haven’t been here before. Good choice, Gwen,’ she complimented her friend.

  ‘Well, I guessed we wouldn’t get a table next door in the Troc at such short notice but I thought we might be lucky here for a late supper. I love their tapas.’ She, Jill and Sally had met i
n Salamanca on Andrews Street to hear, face to face, about the ending of Gwen’s friendship with Aimee.

  ‘Girls, I’m telling you, I was so mad I turned around and went right after her and I know it wasn’t a very nice thing to do and that it had nothing to do with them, but I had it out with her in front of Barry and his daughter and first wife on the steps of University Church. The daughter was getting married and Aimee was going to the wedding. And wait until I tell you what I said.’ Gwen took another sip of wine before regaling them with the whole sorry saga.

  ‘Good for you, the snobby cow,’ Sally said stoutly. ‘She thinks her shite is Christmas pudding.’

  ‘Sally, don’t be so vulgar,’ reprimanded Jill, laughing. ‘Well, the signs were always there that we were gradually being dropped, but that was downright rude, Gwen. And you of all people didn’t deserve it – you were always very kind to her. And you always stood up for her.’

  Gwen’s face crumpled and she burst into tears. ‘I can’t believe Aimee did that to me,’ she wept. ‘It really hurt.’

  ‘Don’t cry, Gwen; she’s not worth it. Friendship is wasted on her. You still have us,’ Sally comforted, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  ‘I know and, thanks, I really appreciate it, but it hurt all the same.’ Gwen pushed away her Spanish omelette, her appetite gone.

  ‘Gwen, she’s the loser, big time. And the time will come when she needs a friend and there’ll be no one there for her, and she’ll only have herself to blame.’ Jill spoke authoritatively. She’d seen it all before, ambitious women becoming absorbed in their careers and losing sight of what was really important in life. A good friend was priceless and, after her own recent traumatic break-up, she knew that better than anyone.

  ‘Melissa, I want a word with you.’ Melissa’s heart sank as her father called her from the dance floor. She was feeling pleasantly woozy and on a complete high. This was the best night of her life. She’d bopped her ass off and had loads of photos taken with totally hot guys, and she and Sarah were going to have the best time ever boasting about this night of nights.

  Her dad was probably calling her to tell her it was time to go home. He hadn’t said anything about her clothes. That would probably happen when they were on their own, as he wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Sarah. He was good like that. She sighed as she made her way to where he was standing.