Rachel was the onlychild of wealthy parents and had indeed sailed through her early years, admired and petted, lacking for nothing. Nothing, that is, except siblings, which she had wanted very badly, but the idea of which her parents had refused to contemplate. She had worried that it was because she was a disappointment to them that they didn’t want another baby. She had a lonely childhood and envied her friends who had sisters and brothers.
She was very beautiful and no one was surprised when, shortly after she left college, sheattracted the attention of the successful, debonair, ambitious Carl Dunne. He came from a middle-class family and had worked his way up from nothing to become a big player in the lucrative property market of the Celtic Tiger years. He had made a lot of money during the boom times and was one of the few clever enough not to overstretch himself and to get out before things started to disintegrate. As a result he was financially sound and that, coupled with her father’s money, meant that Rachel would never want for anything in the future. As a wedding present her father had built her a beautiful house on Howth Hill, overlooking Dublin Bay.
Their wedding had beenthe social event of the year. Rachel first saw him as he was running with windblown hair along the beach in Marbella, where her parents owned a villa. It was love at first sight. He was tall and broad-shouldered with shoulder-length dark-blond hair and twinkling blue eyes. His body was tanned and athletic andhe exuded an energy and charisma that was irresistible. With his good looks and easy charm Carl seduced everyone he met, and Rachel was no exception.And she easily ensnared him. Shehad long honey-blonde hair which shimmered like silk and, together withher olive skin and soft dark-brown eyes, made for a stunningly attractive woman.
Rachel had always been on the skinny side of slim but the birth of her two children, in quick succession, had given her new curves. Carl said it made her more voluptuousand she wondered if he was just being kind.Of course she would need to be extra careful with her diet now – what with all the functions they had to attend. She had no intention of letting herself go like so many of the women in public life had done.
Together she and Carl made a very handsome couple and were much in demand at all the smartest parties and now that he had become involved in politics, well, the world was their oyster. They had moved onto the national stage andCarl was in his element, enjoying every moment of it. Rachel was not enjoying it quite as much. She felt they had become public property and he was hardly ever home, now that he had so many demands on his time.
Of course, her life before politics had not all been plain sailing. When a man was as good-looking, sexy and charismatic as Carl, it was inevitable that there would be women throwing themselves at him. And Rachel knew her husband was no saint. He had a voracious sexual appetite and she’d suspected for some time after Becky was born that he was not being faithful to her. However, she’d turned a blind eye in the hope that she was wrong but, when she’d accidently caught him out(thanks to Tiger-Woods-type texts on his phone), she could no longer ignore it and the shit had hit the fan. What had hurt most was the fact that the woman in question was a neighbour whom Rachel had considered to be her best friend.
She’d thrown him out of the house and threatened to divorce him and take the children with her. An abject and penitent Carl had begged and pleaded with her to reconsider and had sworn that it would never happen again. Rachel still loved him madly and wanted more than anything for her marriage to work, so eventually she’d forgiven him. Needless to say she’d never spoken to the other woman again.
Carl loved the cut and thrust of politics and she hoped that this new interest would keep him fully occupied with no time for dalliances. Rachel knewthat he knew it would hurt his new career if he were to be caught up in any scandal. She figured that this would keep him on the straight and narrow.
Rachel left the salon three hours later, feeling alive and rejuvenated. She tripped lightly along towards her favourite restaurant, One Pico. The owner welcomed her warmly and she was aware of the looks and whisperings of other diners who recognised her. She ordered a CaesarSalad – no croutons, and dressing on the side – and a half bottle of wine, relying on the wine waiter to suggest a good one. She wished she was more knowledgeable about wine but, even though she loved it, she found it all a bit confusing and intimidating. She decided to buy a book on the subject that very afternoon.
After lunch she made her way to her hair salon in South William Street for her weekly hairdo. With her hair newlywashed, conditioned and straightened, she headed to Brown Thomas to check out the latest collections. Now that she had to accompany Carl to so many functions she seriously needed to update her wardrobe. It annoyed her that people expected her never to wear the same outfit twice. Who could possibly afford that? Even Kate Middleton was to be seen reprising her dresses.Still, Rachel knew she did need to invest in some new clothes. She bought a beautiful royal-blue Diane Von Furstenberg wrap-over dress and a Michael Kors leather jacket, which fitted her like a glove.
On her way back to the car she stopped by Sheridan’s cheese shop and bought a selection of their fabulous cheeses. On the spur of the moment, she popped into Hodges Figgis bookshop and headed to the wine section. She was flabbergasted at the sheer number of books on the subject and in the end settled for one by Oz Clarke. She’d seen him on television and he’d seemed to be passionate about his wine but not too stuffy and serious.
Driving home, she looked forward to the evening ahead with pleasure. Every Wednesday afternoon Rachel’s mother collected Jacob andBecky from school and they stayed with her and their grandfather in Kinsealy overnight. This suited everyone. Her parents got to spend time with their grandchildren whom they spoiled rotten. The kids loved it and it gave Rachel and Carl at least one night alone together every week – well, it had, until he’d been elected a TD. Now he held clinics for his electorate every Wednesday in Baldoyle, Sutton and Howth. However, he’d promised tobe home by tenthirtyevery week and he hadn’t let her down yet.
Although she adored the kids, she had to admit she loved the freedom that came with just her and Carl in the house for the night. The nanny, Paloma, also had Wednesdays off and wouldn’t return until lunchtime on Thursday so they had the whole house to themselves. Often they made love on the floor in front of the fire, in the shower, or even, Rachel blushed at the thought, on the dining-room table. With no chance of a little one or a nanny interrupting things, they could be as uninhibited as they pleased.
Arriving home,Rachel changed into her red silk pyjamas and took some slivers of the deliciouscheese and a bottle ofMerlotinto the den.Curling up on the sofa, she opened Oz Clarke’s book and started to read. She became so engrossed in it that the hours flew by and it was Carl’s key turning in the lock that brought her back to reality. Goodness gracious, she thought, could it be that time already? Guiltily, she realised that she hadalmost finished the bottle of wine completely. Closing the book, she got up to greet her husband.
“Someone’s been drinking, I see,” he said, kissing her wine-stained lips. “None left for me?”
“Sorry, darling. I bought a wine book and just got lost in it.” She twined her arms around his neck.
“Oh, so you’re just following their instructions, is that it?” he teased. “Well, let me open another bottle and you can educate me.” He released her and headed for the wine rack.
“Seriously, it’s fascinating,” she told him, pouring the little left in the bottle into her glass and draining it in one gulp. “I never realised that wine could be so interesting.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt it is. They actually run wine courses now.” He began to open another bottle of Merlot. “I saw a poster tonight for one starting in Clontarf soon. Maybe you should consider joining?” He poured a glass of wine for himself.
“Gosh, that sounds super. Where and when?” she asked, holding out her empty glass to him so that he could refill it.
“I don’t remember. You’d better ring Graingers in Baldoyle to find out.” He refilled her gla
ss. “That’s where I saw it. They’ll give you the details.”
“I’ll ring them tomorrow,” she promised, taking a sip and moving closer to him.
He chatted about the people he’d met that evening, entertaining her with his usual witty observations. She told him about her day and what she’d read in Oz Clarke’s book. Draining his glass, he nuzzled her neck then slipped his hand inside her top. All thoughts of wine disappeared as she enjoyed the sensation of his hand caressing her nipples.She felt quite uninhibited and more than a little drunk. The bottle of Merlot was left unfinished as they made love on the sofa and then wound their way up the stairs where they started all over again.
The following morningRachel rang Graingers and got the number for the wine course, which she then dialled. She crossed her fingers, hoping that the course would not be on a Wednesday. She was in luck. A very nice guy, who said his name was Sam, told her that they would be starting the first week in June and it would be held on Monday nights. That suited her perfectly as Carl held his clinic for the other part of his constituency on a Monday. Great! She got the details from Sam and enrolled on the spot, promising to send a cheque in the post.
Satisfied, she prepared to go to the charity luncheon for the Rape Crisis Centre.Things were really tough now for charities in Dublin and Rachel tried to support them whenever she could, but she had to be selective and prioritise or otherwise she’d have had to go to at least three luncheons not to mention dinners every single day. People didn’t realise how difficult life could be for a politician’s wife.Everybody wanted a piece of her husband and sometimes she feared that there would be nothing left for her. She saw less and less of him since he’d taken office and lived life constantly in his shadow. She hadn’t been prepared for the multiple demands on her time either, butshe took her responsibilities very seriously. Luckily she had Paloma and Olga, the housekeeper, who came in every morning to keep things on the homefront running smoothly. Otherwise she couldn’t imagine how she would have coped. She knew that she led a privileged life in comparison to the hardships many other women suffered. Sheappreciated that, but it brought with it its own problems.
She posted the cheque to Sam, for the wine course, on her way to the lunch.
3
Ronan McIntyre was searching in the wardrobe of the spare room for his old running shoes. He thought that he might take up running again now that the evenings were so much brighter. He didn’t find them but what he did find shocked him to the core. He pulled out at least ten bags with the names Brown Thomas, A Wear, Next, Gap and Coast artfully scrawled across them. His heart sank and he dropped on to the bed, his head in his hands. His wife, Louise, had promised him that she’d cut back on her shopping. She knew the company he worked for was in a perilous state and that his job might be on the line very soon, but she was still spending with no thought of the future. He emptied the bags on the bed.Shoes, handbags, jeans, dresses, tops, all came tumbling out. He looked at them in despair. She must have had at least a hundred pairs of shoes, some she’d never even worn, not to mention about fifty bags, but still she bought, bought, bought. He knew without a doubt that it was an addiction. When it had first started she’d tried to explain to him that it was the thrill of acquiring something new that she loved – not whether she needed it or indeed would ever even wear it. He didn’t understand it but he’d been as generous as he could afford to be with her, hoping it would help with her depression. Now, years later, she was still shopping but the problem had escalated rather than gone away.
For a long time he’d never discussed it with anyone, feeling that it was just between them and that it would be disloyal to Louise to reveal it to an outsider. Last year, however, he’d finally confided in his brother, Conor, who had three children and was happily married to Betty, an exemplary wife, not given to spending her husband’s wages on one shopping spree. Conor was at a loss to understand Louise’s problem and could offer him no advice. There was no one else Ronan could discuss it with.
Things were so bad in this post-Celtic-Tiger Ireland, that they’d already taken a pay-cut and lived every day in fear of losing their jobs. There was not much call for draughtsmen these days with building sites standing idle all over the country. What would happen to him if the firm closed down? Ronan couldn’t even begin to contemplate the possibility. Hismortgage was so high that the chances were they would lose their house, which was already well into negative equity.
Ronan was feeling desperate. He could feel the blood pounding in his temples. This couldn’t go on. Her spending would have to stop, but how could he get this through to his shopaholic wife?
Louise knew the moment she saw his face that he had found her secret stash. She geared herself for a confrontation.
“Louise, when did you buy this stuff?” he asked her, throwing one of the dresses on the table.
“Oh, ages ago,” she replied nonchalantly. “They were reduced to nothing in the sale. They were practically giving them away.” She continued grilling the steaks, not looking at him.
He turned on his heel and went into the living-room for his laptop. Going online he accessed his credit-card account and sure enough there it was. A list of purchases, all made the previous Friday in Dublin city. He blanched when he saw the final figure. How on earth would they pay this?
Returning to the kitchen, he walked to the cooker and turned Louise around to face him. He was shaking with fury.
“Giving them away?” he cried, grabbing her arms. “You spent over five hundred euro in one day! Where do you think the money will come from to pay this bill? We’re already up to our eyes in debt, thanks to you!”
“Don’t get your knickers in a knot.” She wrenched away from him, her green eyes flashing. “It’s on the credit card. We won’t have to pay for ages.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he cried, white with anger. “We – just – cannot – afford – it!” He realised he was shouting and tried to calm down. He wanted to shake her to get this into her head but he let her go. He had never raised a hand to her in all their fifteen years of marriage and he wasn’t going to start now. His own fury shocked him. He was normally a quiet, gentle man.
“Louise, this can’t go on,” he said, slumping down in a chair. “I just can’t take it anymore.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, you’re overreacting,” she snapped, putting his dinner on the table. “Everyone says that the recession is over and things are on the up again.”
“Not in our business, they’re not. Besides, even if I don’t lose my job – which I possibly will – I still cannot afford to have you spending like this.”
“You’re a cheapskate!” she cried, rushing from the room, her long auburn hair flying behind her.
He looked down at the plate of steak and onions in front of him and suddenly he had no appetite for it. He pushed it away. She was being very unfair. He’d always been very generous with her. How could he get her to realise the seriousness of the situation?
Now her addiction was in danger of wrecking their marriage beyond repair. Not that their marriage had been in great shape for quite some time. The love and joy had gone out of it and they were constantly bickering. It was very difficult to be loving and joyous when you were constantly worrying about money. He was at the end of his tether now and he knew it was affecting his health. The doctor had warned him to avoid stress but it was all very well for him to say that.He wasn’t in debt or in danger of losing his job and perhaps even his house, or to top it off – married to a shopaholic!
Ronan sighed. He would have to try and find someone who could help Louise. But where could he turn for it? He decided to have another chat with Conor at the weekend. Maybe this time he’d confide in Betty. She might know someone who could help.
The following Saturday was Ronan’s thirty-ninth birthday and they’d been invited to Conor and Betty’s for dinner. He’d warned Louise that he didn’t want a birthday present. God knows how much she would have splurged on that! She had b
een giving him the silent treatment since the row but he’d thought that as it was his birthday she’d relent and at least wish him a happy birthday. No such luck!It was going to be very embarrassing at Conor’s if they were still not talking.
After a silent cold-war breakfast, Ronan decided that he might as well go and play a round of golf. When he came home that afternoon, Louise was out.
Please God, let her not be out shopping, he prayed.
She arrived in after six, no bags in sight, thank God.
“You do know we’re expected at Conor’s for dinner at seven,” he reminded her.
“I’m not going,” she replied, the first words she’d spoken for three nights.
“We can’t cancel at the last minute just like that.” He could feel his blood pressure rising yet again.
“It’s okay. I rang Betty and told her I didn’t feel well,” she said sullenly. “I said you’d be going alone. She understood.”
He looked at her sadly, shaking his head. She’d obviously made up her mind.
“Fine, if that’s how you want it.”
At least he’d get a chance to talk to his sister-in-law about his problems now.
“Happy birthday, old boy!” Conor greeted him with a hug. “Next year’s the biggie, eh? My God, forty! That’s seriously old!” Grinning broadly, he clapped him on the back.
He was one year younger than Ronan and never let him forget it. They were so alike that people had often taken them for twins. Both were very tall and slim with similar dark hair, although Ronan’s was a tad longer. Their grey eyes held a warmth and gentleness that was reflected in both their characters. However, more than anything else it was thegraceful way they moved that confirmed, even to those who did not know them, that they were brothers.
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