Too Good to Be True

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Too Good to Be True Page 13

by Sheila O'Flanagan


  “It’s fine.”

  “Go in and sit down.” Carey echoed Sylvia’s words.

  Maude looked at both of them and shrugged her shoulders. Then she joined the others in the living room.

  “He’s nice,” said Sylvia as Carey began to immerse the dishes in the soapy water.

  “Thanks.”

  “He’s nice but you hardly know him,” said Sylvia. “You haven’t even met his sister yet, and by all accounts she’s been the big influence on his life.”

  “I didn’t marry his sister,” said Carey spiritedly.

  “No, but —”

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You’ve got to be realistic.” Sylvia took a plate out of her sister’s hand and began to dry it.

  “I am being realistic,” said Carey. “It’s not as though I was a silly twenty-year-old who didn’t know what she was doing. I’m a lot older than you were when you married John. I remember Aunt Evelyn saying that you were terribly young to get married, but you seem to have lasted the pace.”

  “Did Evelyn really say that?” asked Sylvia.

  Carey nodded. “And there’s no reason that me and Ben won’t last either.”

  “It just seems a very radical way of getting out of the dress thing,” said Sylvia.

  “You’ll never forgive me for not liking that bridesmaid’s dress, will you?” demanded Carey. “It was so long ago.”

  “It was my wedding day,” said Sylvia shortly. “A bride gets what she wants on her wedding day. That’s the rule. And I wanted you looking pretty and feminine just for once.”

  “The dress looked horrific on me,” said Carey. “I never minded looking feminine, though I always preferred being comfortable. But that dress was awful.”

  “It was the eighties,” protested Sylvia. “Everything was awful in the eighties.”

  Carey giggled and Sylvia smiled wryly.

  “I wish you all the luck in the world,” said Sylvia eventually. “I really do.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But if there’s a problem…”

  “There won’t be,” Carey interrupted.

  “I know we’re not the closest of people,” her sister continued. “You got on miles better with Tony than you ever did with me. It was probably the age thing. But, Carey, if you need to talk anytime…”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” said Carey. “Really I will.”

  It was after six by the time they left Arthur and Maude’s. Carey sighed with relief as she waved goodbye through the van window and then settled back in the seat.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” said Ben. “They’re nice, your family.”

  “Sometimes,” said Carey. “But Mum and Dad can be so nosy. So can Sylvia. John’s OK, although I never talk to him that much, and the kids are a hoot. But en masse they can all be a bit intimidating.”

  “It was new to me,” admitted Ben. “But I’ll get used to it.”

  “We won’t be going over there every Sunday!” Carey sounded horrified and Ben laughed.

  “Of course not. But I can deal with them whenever I meet them.”

  “Were you nervous?” asked Carey.

  “Of course I was,” said Ben. “I was afraid they wouldn’t like me.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I was afraid they wouldn’t like you either,” she admitted. “Though I couldn’t see why. You’re eminently likeable.”

  “Lovable even?” suggested Ben.

  “Absolutely.”

  “So now the only thing is for you to meet Freya,” he said. “And then we’ll have our reception and just get down to day-to-day sort of stuff.”

  “I’m looking forward to that,” said Carey.

  “Day-to-day sort of stuff?”

  She nodded. “I’m tired of feeling like a news item,” she told him. “I thought that we’d come back and that everyone would be amazed, but that it would only last for a day or two. It seems to be going on forever!”

  “That’s why the party is a good idea,” said Ben. “Everyone can get together and talk about how surprising it all was and that’ll sort them out.”

  “You think?”

  “Sure,” he said. “And I’m always right.”

  Carey laughed. “I thought I was the one that was always right.”

  “We’ll split it,” said Ben comfortably.

  A message alert sounded on her mobile phone, breaking the easy silence that had fallen on them. She dug into her bag and retrieved it.

  “Hv 2 tlk,” said Peter’s message.

  “Ntg 2 tlk abt,” she replied.

  “Pls. Not long.” She glanced at Ben, who wasn’t taking any notice of her. “Why?” She pressed the keys quickly.

  “Just need 2 c u.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “OK,” she sent eventually. “Will call u to arrange. Bi.”

  Then she switched off the phone and put it back into her bag.

  Chapter Nine

  MAY CHANG

  A fruit oil which is sweet but with astringent properties

  Her shift the next day was another one which began at two o’clock in the afternoon. She got up at the same time as Ben, had breakfast with him — brown bread and coffee — and then ran herself a bath when he left. She dumped half a bottle of Body Shop bath salts into the extra-hot water and then lowered herself cautiously in. She could feel her skin tingle with the heat but she didn’t care, she liked hot, hot baths. Strands of curls toppled from the casual knot on the top of her head and dangled in front of her face. She lay back in the bath and closed her eyes.

  Peter Furness. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since his phone call and messages. Ben had commented on the fact that she’d been unusually quiet the previous night but had put it down to having had lunch with her family. It had probably been a bit difficult for her, he surmised, and she didn’t let on that difficult though she had found it, it was nothing in comparison to hearing from Peter Furness again. And seeing the anxious, almost pleading tone to his message. He’d never pleaded with her before. He’d been cooler with her than many of her other boyfriends, but somehow she’d enjoyed that. It was only after she realized that he was married that she understood his coolness and the reason why he had sometimes called her at the last minute to change their plans. She felt a trickle of sweat slide down her cheek and she exhaled slowly, blowing it away.

  She didn’t want to meet Peter Furness. There was nothing left to say to him. She’d said it all the night they split up. He’d said it all too. At least, she thought he had. He’d cried too, which had made her feel better, even though she was unsure whether he was crying because they weren’t going to see each other anymore or because his idyll with two women was over.

  They’d agreed that he couldn’t leave Sandra and Aaron. It was important that he give it another try. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Sandra — he did. But he had never felt the level of passion for her that he felt for Carey. He’d loved her and he’d married her because he’d thought that this was it. With Carey he knew that it could be so much more.

  She stretched her arm over the side of the bath and reached for a sponge on the nearby ledge. She soaked the sponge and then dribbled the hot water over her face. He’d broken her heart, she remembered. She had been so much in love with him.

  But not in the way she loved Ben. Not with the joyful, careless sense of elation that she felt whenever she was with him. Not with the same depth of emotion either. She’d been in love with Peter Furness but she loved Ben. She wasn’t entirely sure in her own mind what the difference was, but she knew that there was a difference. Her future was with Ben and not with Peter. She was married to Ben, for heaven’s sake! And Peter was married to Sandra. If their marriage wasn’t perfect, that wasn’t her fault. She was married to Ben and it was up to her to keep things as perfect as they could possibly be. And that she intended to do. It wasn’t often that perfection came along.

  She laughed suddenly. She was so used to being tens
e about her relationships, so used to worrying about whether her boyfriend of the moment would dump her for someone else that she hadn’t yet adapted to the security of being married. She was looking for trouble where none existed. She was over-dramatizing. Sylvia often gave out to her for being overly dramatic. Probably, Sylvia surmised, because she had to be cool and unfazed when she was at work. So that when she was away from the studied calm of air traffic control she lost the plot completely. Carey knew that Sylvia was partly right. All controllers were a bit crazy. It came with the territory.

  She rubbed the sponge over her body and then pulled the plug out of the bath. Then she switched on the electric shower and washed her hair, grimacing as she got shampoo into her eyes and splashing water around the bathroom as she reached for her towel. When eventually she got dressed and dried her hair she took out her mobile and dialed Peter’s number.

  He answered on the second ring. “Hi,” he said.

  “Where are you?”

  Peter was a company rep for a supplier of gym equipment. He spent most of his day on the road, although his physique was almost as good as that of anyone who spent a lot of time working out. Which was one of the things that had attracted Carey’s attention when she’d (literally) bumped into him at a music festival. She’d allowed him to buy her replacement drinks for the ones he’d caused her to spill and she’d enjoyed his company as they tried to talk over the sound of rock bands who took themselves too seriously. They’d left before the concert was over and gone for something to eat in a place where they could actually hear each other speak. The thing about Peter, as she’d told Gina afterwards, was that he might be built like a minor Adonis, but he was actually very sensitive and understanding. Much, much later Gina told her that married men looking for someone else generally were.

  “Clonee,” said Peter. “My next call is in Castleknock.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” she asked.

  “Can we meet?”

  “I don’t want to meet with you, Peter.”

  “Come on, Carey. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “It’s not important to me,” she told him simply.

  “Well, it is to me,” he said urgently.

  She knew she should just tell him that she was married and that nothing he had to say could be as important as that, but she wasn’t able to.

  “What time’s your shift?” he asked.

  “Two,” said Carey.

  “Meet me at twelve,” he said. “Eddie Rocket’s in Swords.”

  “Look, Peter —”

  “Carey, I really need to talk with you. Just do it.”

  She sighed. “OK.”

  “Great.” She could hear the relief in his voice. “I’ll be there.”

  She was five minutes late arriving at the hamburger joint. She was never usually late, and when it came to her dates with Peter, she’d nearly always been early. No, she amended, as she pushed open the glass door, she’d been on time. He was the late one.

  But not today. He was already sitting in a booth looking at the menu. Not that he needed to. They’d often met at the restaurant before and they always had the same thing.

  “Hi.” His grey-green eyes lit up as she slid onto the seat opposite him. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “It’s great to see you again. You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed you.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” she asked. She kept her hands folded on her lap, out of sight.

  “No,” said Peter. “You wouldn’t.” He leaned towards her and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I missed you at first,” she told him. “But not recently.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “New boyfriend?” His tone indicated that he didn’t believe she’d found someone to replace him yet.

  “New husband,” she said baldly, and put her hands on the table.

  He looked at the thin gold band on her finger and then at her. “You’re joking.”

  “No.”

  “Christ, Carey, tell me that you’re having me on.”

  “No,” she said again.

  “Because it’s only three months since we split up.”

  “Nearly four,” she said.

  “You cried and told me you’d never find someone like me.”

  “I didn’t,” she said. “I found someone who wasn’t married.”

  Peter flinched. “I see.”

  “And he’s all the things I ever wanted in a husband so I married him,” said Carey.

  “You met him and married him in the space of nearly four months.” Peter laughed shortly. “Quick work for someone who told me I’d broken her heart.”

  “You did break my heart,” she said fiercely. “You broke my heart because you let me fall in love with you and you never told me you were married.”

  “I know what happened was wrong,” said Peter. “I didn’t expect you to fall in love with me. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you either.”

  “You didn’t fall in love with me,” she told him. “You had a bit of a romance with me. That’s totally different.”

  “Of course I fell in love with you,” Peter said angrily. “Why the hell did you think I broke it off?”

  There was a sudden silence between them. As she sat and stared at him, a waitress arrived at their table and put a plain burger in front of her and one smothered in tomato relish in front of Peter. Then she placed a bowl of chili fries between them.

  “You ordered for both of us?” Carey looked at him quizzically.

  “I guessed your order wouldn’t have changed,” he said. “But maybe I was wrong.”

  Carey shrugged.

  “Tell me about this man of yours,” said Peter.

  “Nothing to tell.” Carey didn’t want to talk about Ben. “We met, we married. I love him.”

  “Carey, you can’t possibly love him,” said Peter. “You hardly know him.”

  “I loved you when I hardly knew you,” she said. “I loved you because I thought that you were a caring, decent man, because you treated me so differently from anyone else in the past, but I didn’t know you had a wife and a kid waiting for you at home, did I?”

  “Not anymore,” said Peter blankly.

  “What?” She stared at him.

  “Sandra and I have split up.”

  “Oh.” She mouthed the word but no sound came out.

  “You didn’t believe me when I told you that our marriage was in trouble, did you? You thought I was spinning you a line. But I wasn’t. We married too young and we didn’t love each other enough and neither of us was the person we thought.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Carey.

  “I did my best to patch things up,” he said. “Even though I was more devastated over losing you than anything else. But I gave it another go and I really tried. I even bought her flowers.” He laughed cynically. “I suppose buying the flowers was a sure sign that it was never going to work. Then one day she told me that she didn’t love me anymore.”

  “Just like that?”

  He nodded. “She said that I’d changed. She’d changed. That I bored her.”

  Carey looked at him sympathetically.

  “She said that she’d thought we were right for each other but she knew that we weren’t. And that she’d wanted us to stay together because of Aaron, but that she’d found someone else.”

  “What!”

  “Yes.” Peter shrugged. “All the times that I thought she was at her bloody bridge session she was meeting him. Marty. He’s a fucking computer technician.”

  “I’m sorry, Peter. I really am.”

  “Yeah, well.” Peter took a chip from the bowl and shoved it into the sauce. “She’s left me and she’s living with him.”

  “What about Aaron?”

  “She’s taken him with her.”

  “But…” Carey looked at him in astonishment. “Surely she can’t just do that. Surely she has to ask for custody. Surely —”

&n
bsp; “I don’t care.” Peter interrupted her. “Well, that’s not strictly true, of course I care. I’m making sure I see him as often as I can. But even I can see that Aaron is better off with her than with me. I’m on the road a lot. I make a decent living, but the geek earns much more than me. He’s got a house in Blanchardstown which he already owns. She’s happy as a pig in shit.”

  Carey heard the bitterness in his voice even though he tried to hide it.

  “Is it my fault?” she asked. “If you hadn’t been with me…”

  “You were the only thing that kept me going,” he said. “From the moment I met you at that stupid festival…I only went because the company was a sponsor, I wasn’t looking for someone…” His voice trailed off. “I love you, Carey. I loved you then and I love you now.”

  “You were looking for someone and I was available and I was stupid,” said Carey. “I thought it was love but it wasn’t, Peter. It was — oh, I don’t know. A rush of emotion maybe.”

  “And you think what you’ve got with this bloke is different?” he asked scathingly.

  “Of course,” she said vehemently. “I do love him. That’s why I married him.”

  “If you hadn’t met him…” said Peter. “If he didn’t exist and I was talking to you now…”

  “I wish things were different,” Carey said. “I really do.” She stared at her untouched burger for a moment and then looked up at him again. “No, I don’t,” she amended. “Ben is good for me. We’re good for each other. I’m happy I met him and I’m happy I married him. And I’m sorry that things haven’t worked out between you and Sandra, but it’s got nothing to do with me anymore.”

  “You and me — we were good friends,” said Peter. “It wasn’t just a flash of something, Carey.” He reached across the table and took her hand in the way he’d done so many times before. She bit her lip and said nothing. Eventually she slid her hand away from his.

  “We can still be good friends,” he said.

 

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