Francesca's Party

by Patricia Scanlan

  What had made the other woman change her mind about the divorce? She’d been so adamant that she wasn’t divorcing Mark, the day Nikki had confronted her. Why this sudden sea change?

  And Mark? What about him? Nikki thought uneasily. He’d sounded shattered on the phone and he wouldn’t have lunch with her. Surely he’d be glad to have things sorted. They couldn’t keep going on in this limbo for ever, neither one thing nor another. Divorce was the only logical step, couldn’t he see that? She knew he didn’t want to sell the house. But it was only bricks and mortar and besides it was worth a fortune. Liquidating an asset like that would be a smart move, especially as he’d make an enormous profit from it. So what if he had to give half to Francesca? He’d still have plenty left over to buy a big new house for himself … and her.

  But that was the problem. She knew that he’d feel trapped. And that wasn’t the way she wanted things to happen. Why couldn’t it have been him that pressed for the divorce? Why hadn’t he wanted her enough to make the moves? Why had he been so passive about it all? He’d have left things the way they were for ever and a day, Nikki thought angrily. He made no concession to her feelings at all. Would this new development change things? He’d been pretty cool with her since her outburst in the restaurant.

  Her private Christmas deadline was looming and if things hadn’t changed radically by then he was out on his ear. There was no point in hanging on if the writing was on the wall. She wasn’t that much of a wimp. She’d play things cool for a while. She wouldn’t even mention the divorce unless he brought it up. In fact she’d phone one of her friends and arrange to go out clubbing tonight. That would show him just how blasé she seemed about the whole thing, Nikki decided as she scrolled through her palm-top diary looking for her friend’s work number.

  Elaine knocked and came into the office. She seemed to have a knowing smirk on her plain face. It was a mega pain in the ass working in the same building as Mark. Everybody seemed to know their damn business. No doubt Elaine and her silly friends had been down gossiping at the photocopier.

  ‘Yes?’ she said curtly.

  ‘Here’s the Richmond Bank file you were looking for,’ Elaine said sweetly. ‘Can I get you coffee or anything?’

  ‘No, thank you. Oh, and Elaine’ – she handed her secretary two typed letters – ‘there were several errors in these letters you typed out for me this morning. You obviously didn’t have your mind on the job and it’s simply not good enough. Kindly do them again, immediately,’ she instructed coldly. ‘I want them to catch today’s post.’

  ‘Sorry,’ muttered Elaine, taking the letters which were held out to her so disdainfully between finger and thumb. Sarky bitch, she swore silently as she closed the door behind her.

  That wiped the knowing smirk off your smug little face, Nikki thought with some small degree of satisfaction. Maybe she should go and look for a job with another organization. She’d have no problem getting a position elsewhere, but she liked her work at EuroBank Irl., the remunerations were excellent and it was far too high a price to pay to leave her job because of a relationship that was possibly going nowhere. She could change her secretary though, she thought nastily. She was going to start a little file on Madame Elaine. Shoddy work was not acceptable. From now on, Elaine was on borrowed time.

  Nikki stood up and stretched wearily. Elaine wasn’t her problem really, she was just an irritation. Mark was her problem. Or rather her needs in relation to Mark were her problem. One way or another she was going to have to deal with it. Putting time frames on it was only putting it off. Christmas seemed like a long way away, she thought despondently as she waited for her friend to answer her phone.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  ‘I’D LOVE TO have seen her face.’ Millie laughed as she sipped her cappuccino. ‘But are you really sure it’s what you want? You’ve thought it all out?’ she asked.

  Francesca shook her head. ‘I haven’t thought it out at all, beyond knowing that I want a house that’s mine. And I want to keep working and I suppose really I want some sort of closure – isn’t that what the Americans call it? If Mark hadn’t been such a condescending shit about my job I’m not sure I’d have made the decision so fast. It was the last straw, Millie. He made me as mad as hell and then when he kept going on about the house being our house I felt a total lack of control over my life. So I’m taking my control back.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Ma will be horrified.’

  ‘Poor Ma,’ her sister said fondly. ‘We’re a grave disappointment to her. Do you think Mark will ever marry Nikki? Would you mind if he did?’ she asked, in her usual forthright way.

  ‘I suppose I would get a bit of a shock,’ Francesca admitted. ‘Especially when part of the reason I’m asking him for the divorce is to make him run a mile from such an eventuality. He really was horrified. He certainly never thought that I’d be the one asking for a divorce. It’s awful. All the affection I ever had for him is gone and I just want to hurt him the way he’s hurting me. It was a great feeling to know that I was getting to him. Doesn’t say much about me, does it, I suppose.’ Francesca made a face.

  ‘For what it’s worth I do think that you’re doing the right thing, whatever the reasons. And making Mark feel bad is only part of it. At another level you’re picking up the pieces, putting them together again and getting on with things. That’s very positive. Lots of women in your position wallow in their misery for the rest of their lives. You’ve done really well, Francesca. I think you’re great,’ Millie said warmly.

  ‘Thanks, Millie. I’d have been lost without you.’

  ‘That’s what sisters are for. You’d do the same for me. Will you feel bad leaving the house?’

  Francesca sighed. ‘It was weird. When I came back from my holidays it was so quiet and so lonely I got this feeling that I didn’t want to live there any more. There are too many ghosts. Anyway, it’s far too big to live in on my own. And it’s a house that needs life in it. It needs children. I hope a family buys it. I’ll have an absolute fit if Mark buys me out and installs her nibs in it. I’ll really be hoist by my own petard then.’

  ‘You’re getting it valued by an auctioneer, aren’t you?’ Millie said sharply.

  ‘Of course I am. I told Mark if he was buying me out it would have to be at market value. He nearly passed out peacefully.’ Francesca popped a mint into her mouth. ‘Honestly, Millie, he thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life there on my own, being kept by him. What sort of woman does he think I am? He can’t understand how I’m throwing it all back in his face. He thinks I’m ungrateful. No wonder he found me boring,’ she said dolefully. ‘He thinks I have no passion. That I’m flat and two-dimensional. He just stopped seeing me, you know. I was part of the furniture.’

  ‘Well, he’s seeing you now, babe, in a whole new light. And I must say it suits you. I haven’t seen you looking as well for ages either. Have you any idea where you’d like to live?’

  ‘I haven’t really thought about it or started looking yet. Honestly, Millie, when I got up this morning I had no idea that I was going to march into that bank and say what I said to Mark and Nikki,’ Francesca confessed. ‘I like Monkstown. It would be very handy for the job. It’s on the Dart. It’s beside the sea. It wouldn’t hold sad memories for me. I think I’d like to move out of Howth.’

  ‘But all your friends are there,’ Millie pointed out.

  ‘A lot of them were my friends when we were a couple. It’s amazing how many people drop you like a hot potato when you split up. Single unattached females of my age are not the ideal guests for dinner parties,’ Francesca said wryly. ‘Janet Dalton and Bart and Monica are the friends who really stood by me and I can Dart over to see them any time I want to. I can Dart over to you. We’ll see. I’m not going to get into a panic about it.’

  ‘I know, but once you put the house on the market it’s going to sell in no time. Properties in Howth are very sought after, especially big houses in their own grounds.’

&nb
sp; ‘I know,’ sighed Francesca. ‘I suppose now that I’ve set events in motion I should get my ass in gear and start looking. What are you doing at the weekend?’

  ‘Let me guess, house-hunting?’ grinned Millie.

  ‘Correct,’ said Francesca as she waved her credit card at a waiter. ‘But before I do anything I want to ring the boys and tell them. I hope they don’t mind.’

  ‘They won’t. They’ll only want what’s best for you,’ Millie said supportively.

  ‘I hope so,’ Francesca murmured as she signed the docket.

  They walked briskly back towards Connolly Station. A light drizzle had started and they took out umbrellas. ‘Some summer we’re having,’ moaned Millie. ‘Just as well we had the week in Portugal.’

  ‘At least you’ve got France to look forward to,’ Francesca reminded her.

  ‘Please try and come, won’t you, Francesca?’ Millie urged. ‘We’re there for a month.’

  ‘If the house is sold by then I’ll try,’ Francesca promised. ‘I won’t have Mark saying I’m swanning around Europe on his hard-earned money.’

  ‘You’re on,’ Millie agreed as they clattered up the steps to the station. ‘So get out there and start looking for houses.’

  ‘I will then.’ Francesca smiled as they parted to take trains in the opposite direction, Millie to home and Francesca back to the office.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Ken enquired cheerfully as she arrived back at work twenty minutes later.

  ‘I think so.’ Francesca made a face as she shrugged out of her damp coat. ‘I told Mark, my husband, that I wanted a divorce,’ she blurted out.

  ‘Oh dear. Should I say congratulations? I didn’t mean to pry. I thought you were gone to the dentist or something,’ Ken said hastily.

  ‘Don’t be silly, you’re not prying. Anyway I think I’m glad I did it. But I need to go and look for a house to live in. I was half thinking of Monkstown,’ she confided.

  ‘It’s nice here. Some lovely houses. But pricy,’ Ken warned.

  ‘I think I should be able to afford it by the time we sell the house in Howth,’ Francesca murmured.

  ‘Of course, I forgot about that. You’ll get a nice house here or in Sandycove or Glasthule, no problem. Why don’t you pop into the estate agent’s down the road?’ he suggested.

  ‘Good idea, my young genius,’ Francesca teased.

  Ken looked at her. ‘Well, go on, what are you waiting for?’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Why not? Is the phone ringing? Is there a queue outside looking for us? Go, Frannie, go, Frannie, go, Frannie, go.’

  ‘I’ll box your ears, Kenneth, if you don’t desist from calling me Frannie,’ Francesca said sternly.

  ‘Assaulted by an older woman, mmmm,’ said her irrepressible boss as he held her coat for her.

  ‘Little brat,’ rebuked Francesca fondly. ‘I’ll get you a gooey cake for afternoon tea.’

  ‘Better than sex.’ Ken licked his lips. ‘You do look after me so well. My girlfriend’s quite jealous.’

  Francesca laughed. ‘I’d say now that Carla’s the jealous type all right.’

  ‘Well, maybe not exactly jealous, then,’ Ken agreed. Carla was an attractive, no-nonsense sort, a nurse, and Ken was mad about her. ‘Go buy a house. It will be a great excuse for a party. I’ll bring Carla and when she sees how devoted you are to me, it might make her look at me in a different light. Yup, Francesca’s Party will be a turning point in all our lives,’ he declared dramatically.

  ‘You’re mad, you know that?’ Francesca retorted. Ken rolled his eyes wildly and she had to laugh. Thinking of how alike he and Owen were gave her a pang of longing to see her son. She missed his exuberance and joie de vivre. The empty house was a constant reminder that both her sons had their own lives to lead, just as she now had to move on and live hers. It would be difficult phoning them to tell them that she was divorcing their father.

  It had stopped raining. She hurried towards the main street wondering whether there would be anything that appealed to her. Several properties caught her eye that would be well within her price range. One, a three-bedroom, architect-designed mews, looked very inviting. Viewings were scheduled for the following Saturday. She took the property descriptions to show them to Millie later on, then headed back to work.

  ‘Anything interesting?’ Ken asked.

  She showed him what she had and he studied them intently. ‘I like that one,’ he said, pointing to the mews. ‘It’s got character.’

  ‘I like it myself,’ she admitted.

  ‘You’d probably want to move fast on it. Places like that are snapped up,’ Ken advised.

  ‘I suppose so. I’m viewing it on Saturday.’

  ‘The best of luck with it, Francesca,’ Ken said as both phones rang simultaneously and it was back to work with a vengeance.

  That evening Francesca phoned both her sons. She connected first with Owen. ‘Hi, love, it’s me. How are you?’ she asked cheerfully.

  ‘Mam, howya? How’s things? How’s the job going?’ Owen was delighted to hear her.

  ‘It’s great, Owen. I’m really enjoying it. I’ve booked to do a computer course next week, so I’ll probably be a dab hand at e-mails before you know it, although I much prefer to talk to you on the phone.’

  ‘That’s great news, Mam. I’m glad things are going well for you.’

  ‘Listen, Owen, I’ve phoned you to tell you that I’ve asked your father for a divorce,’ she said hesitantly. There was a stunned silence. ‘Owen, are you there?’

  ‘I’m here, Mam,’ he said gruffly, ‘and I think that it’s a good thing for you to do.’

  ‘Do you, Owen?’ Francesca suddenly didn’t feel quite so sure.

  ‘Yeah, Mam. It’s a very positive step. It means you’re getting on with things. At least you’re not pottering.’

  Francesca laughed. ‘It will mean selling the house and buying a place of my own.’

  ‘I bet Dad’s going mad about that,’ Owen said astutely.

  ‘You can say that again,’ Francesca agreed.

  ‘Good enough for him.’

  ‘Owen, don’t be like that,’ chided his mother.

  ‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘Mam, would you mind if I stay out here for a couple of months longer? I really like it and I’ve met a very nice girl. She’s Scottish, she’s studying law here. You’d like her. Her name’s Morag.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind, love. I’m delighted that you like it there. And I’ll be looking forward to meeting Morag,’ Francesca assured him.

  ‘Do you think that you’ll be selling the house soon?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, I’m going to look at a place in Monkstown on Saturday.’

  ‘Monkstown?’ he sounded surprised.

  ‘It’s near work and it’s on the Dart and I want to get out of Howth. Too many memories,’ she explained.

  ‘Good idea. Mam, don’t throw out my footie gear, sure you won’t?’

  ‘I’ll pack all your stuff and put it in your new bedroom,’ she promised.

  ‘Thanks, Ma. I hope it all goes well for you. Will Millie and Aidan help you with the move?’

  ‘Of course they will. And don’t worry about your stuff. OK?’

  ‘OK, Ma, I love you.’

  ‘I love you too, talk to you soon. I’ll phone on Sunday and let you know if I’m buying.’

  ‘OK, see ya, Mam.’

  She had tears in her eyes when she hung up and had to compose herself before ringing her eldest son.

  Her conversation with Jonathan was very similar to the one she’d had with Owen.

  ‘Mam, if you feel divorce is the way for you to go, then do it. Dad’s with that other woman, he’s made a new life for himself. You go and do what you have to do for yourself. Owen and I support you all the way,’ he assured her. ‘If you like I’ll try and get a week off to come and help you move.’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit soon for that yet, but I’d love to see you, darling, and thank you for t
he offer. I really appreciate it, pet.’

  ‘I’d like to do something to help. You’ve had a crap time,’ Jonathan said.

  ‘It’s been hard, I won’t deny that,’ Francesca acknowledged. ‘But I love my job. And it’s not as difficult as it was, emotionally. I’m not bawling my eyes out all the time any more.’

  ‘Well, Mam, you just let me know when you’re moving and I’ll come home and help out,’ Jonathan said firmly. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

  ‘All right, love, I will,’ Francesca promised. The knowledge that her eldest son would be home to help her take the biggest step of her life made it seem less daunting. She was half excited now at the idea of moving. She was looking forward to viewing the houses for sale. If all went well one of them might end up as her new home.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  ‘I WOULDN’T BE mad about this place, in all honesty,’ Millie murmured as they followed the estate agent around the musty-smelling bungalow. ‘It’s very linear and those dreadful brown wooden doors. It’s like a corridor of cells.’

  ‘I know. The gardens are nice, though, and I could gut it and start from scratch,’ Francesca said doubtfully.

  ‘No, Francesca, I don’t think so. Not here. I’d be in dereliction of my sisterly duty if I let you buy this. Besides, it’s only the second place you’ve looked at. Although I wasn’t crazy about the first place either. There’s no mad rush to buy, so stay calm,’ Millie instructed.

  ‘Yes, Millie. Whatever you say, Millie,’ Francesca said meekly. ‘Sorry for living and all of that.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Millie had the grace to apologize. ‘I was being bossy again.’

  ‘A tad,’ Francesca agreed. ‘Come on, let’s go look at the mews, I’m dying to see it.’

  So were a host of other interested viewers. There were little knots of people gathered outside the property and Francesca’s heart sank. It was a seller’s market these days, which would be good for the sale of her own house, but if she saw a place that she really liked she’d have to go after it quite aggressively, she realized. If only she had some money behind her, she’d feel much more confident about making an offer.