Authors: Patricia Scanlan
She also had a respectable sum in a building society. Rachel’s dream of owning her own home was slowly but surely taking shape.
This was her father’s last year at work. He was dreading retirement. It frightened him. No longer would he be a person of position and authority in the village. He’d just be an
ordinary OAP like the rest of his peers. Rachel did not intend to be around to share his trauma. She wouldn’t be able to afford to get a mortgage yet but one of the teachers at school had
bought a house and needed someone to share. She asked Rachel if she was interested and Rachel had jumped at the chance. Her rent would be as much as she gave her father for her keep and she and
Noreen would share the bills. Rachel couldn’t wait. Her father didn’t know of her plan. She had no intention of making life difficult for herself. If he knew she was intending to leave
she’d have to put up with accusations of being undutiful and selfish.
It had been bad enough when she’d bought the car. Rachel scowled as she remembered how her father had criticized her parking, her driving, the car itself, and the insurance company for
insuring a learner, even though he’d never sat in the car with her. He would stand at the gate when she was leaving for work watching . . . waiting for her to make a mistake. He’d be
there when she came home and in the beginning, when she’d been very nervous, his critical gaze would spook her and she’d let the clutch out too quickly and the engine would conk out.
This always pleased William enormously. He’d stand with a smug superior expression on his face as his points were proved.
Although she passed her test first go, to her father’s incredulity, he would not accept her offer to drive him to Dublin for Ronan’s wedding. She’d been sorely tempted to get
into the car and go by herself. But he would only have got into one of his cold huffs and, for Jennifer’s sake, Rachel hadn’t wanted any unpleasantness.
Jennifer was exceptionally kind to her, Rachel reflected as she slipped into neutral at the lights in Donnybrook. Her sister-in-law took such an interest in her. She was always encouraging
Rachel to be independent. She thought the idea of leaving home and sharing a house was perfect. Jennifer took no nonsense from William. Her father-in-law thought she was a lippy disrespectful young
woman. As far as he was concerned Ronan could have done far better for himself. After Jennifer came to tea for the first time, William spent the entire evening giving out about her. Rachel tried to
switch off. There was no point in getting annoyed with her father. The best way to annoy him was to ignore him. She let him pontificate, although she was furious at the way he spoke about Jennifer.
The more Rachel ignored him, the more virulent his diatribe got. William wanted to provoke Rachel into making a retort so that he’d have an excuse to be sarcastic and cutting. Rachel had
grown wise to this ploy and rarely answered back, much to his frustration. If there was one thing her father could not abide it was being ignored.
Rachel smiled to herself as the lights turned green and she slipped smoothly into gear and headed towards the canal. She hadn’t told William where she was going. She hadn’t even told
him she was going away until she’d walked down the stairs with her bag that morning and said she was going away for a few days. That was all she said. It was none of his business where she
went or what she did. She didn’t want him to know she was staying in Ronan and Jennifer’s house. His nosiness would get the better of him, and she wouldn’t put it past him to turn
up on the doorstep.
She was going to spend her time shopping and relaxing. It was wonderful to have a house to herself. She could do exactly what she liked. She’d watch TV until late at night and switch
channels to her heart’s content. William had total control over the TV at home. And they didn’t have the luxury of cable TV. Rachel was looking forward to nights of uninterrupted
viewing. She wouldn’t be the slightest bit lonely or bored.
She decided to treat herself to a Kentucky Fried Chicken snack box. It was ages since she’d had one. It reminded her of her days in college. She was starving by the time she got to
Drumcondra. She’d just had sandwiches at lunch-time, she’d been so anxious to get on the road to Dublin. She was dying for a cup of tea, she’d treated herself to a packet of
chocolate biscuits. She needn’t have bothered. Jennifer had left packets of biscuits as well as fruit, wine and a note that said the freezer was full and to help herself. She also had left a
set fire and instructions on how to use the central heating. Rachel was warmed by her sister-in-law’s kindness.
She poured herself a glass of wine, put the kettle on for a cup of tea and put a match to the fire because it was chilly. Then she settled down on the sofa with her snack box. It was a
delightful evening. Rachel sipped her wine, channel-hopped with abandon, read a pile of Jennifer’s magazines and then enjoyed a wonderful luxurious bubble bath that left her feeling
completely relaxed. She lay in the comfortable brass double bed with its old-fashioned lace bedspread which matched the curtains. Jennifer had great taste, Rachel reflected sleepily. The guest room
had a Regency look about it with its striped yellow and gold wallpaper and dado rail. The gold tassel on the brass bedside lamps and the main light exactly matched the shade of the wallpaper. It
was an elegant but homely room. Rachel looked forward to the time when she could decorate her own house or apartment as tastefully.
Paula had an apartment, but then Paula was the most sophisticated woman Rachel had ever encountered. At first she’d been shy with her. But Paula had a way of focusing on you that made you
feel you were an interesting person. Rachel was fascinated by her. Paula had tremendous confidence and presence. Men flocked about her. She oozed sex appeal.
Rachel lay in bed, thinking about Paula and her men. Some women couldn’t imagine life without a man. Rachel didn’t feel like that. After Harry, she’d never felt inclined to get
involved with anyone. To tell the truth, she decided as she turned over and snuggled down, she didn’t particularly like men. She had no great urge to be someone’s wife. It was bad
enough being a daughter. Rachel knew she was extremely odd compared to most girls, but then, most girls hadn’t had to put up with a lifetime of William Stapleton. If she ever got married, she
would do it from a position of strength. She’d have her own house, her own car and her own job. She would never give up her job and be dependent on a man. She would never be like her
unfortunate mother – entirely dependent on her husband.
Sometimes, particularly before her period, when she got horny, she thought about what she was missing by not having a sex life. But even though she’d never gone the full way with Harry,
she’d always felt that he’d been in control of her. Rachel, because of her upbringing, just couldn’t imagine that there was such a thing as sexual equality. Sex was just another
method of domination and she was determined never to put herself in a position where any man could ever dominate or dictate to her again. She was going to live in a safe little world where she was
in charge of her own life and destiny. Rachel fell asleep in an unusually contented frame of mind.
Two months later, just before the summer holidays, Noreen, her colleague, got the keys of her new house. ‘When would you like to move in?’ she asked Rachel. Rachel didn’t
hesitate. She knew it was now or never. If she didn’t leave home now she never would.
‘As soon as I can,’ she said calmly.
‘The weekend,’ suggested Noreen.
‘Fine,’ agreed Rachel. She went home that evening and began to pack all her worldly possessions into black plastic sacks. She did it in the privacy of her room. William never entered
her bedroom. The only things she wanted to take with her were the quilt her grandmother had made for her years ago, and her mother’s rocking-chair. She went into Bray the following afternoon
and bought sheets, pillows and a duvet and brought them to Noreen’s new house.
It was a modern three-bedroom semi on a new estate. Noreen told her she could have the back bedroom, which was double the size of her small room at home. It had fitted wardrobes as well. Noreen
said she could arrange it whatever way she liked. It was her room to do what she would with. Rachel was delighted with it. It had a lovely view of the Sugar Loaf in the distance and the back garden
faced south and was a sun trap. Rachel felt a quiver of excitement as she made up her new bed. It looked so fresh and welcoming. She was sorry she wasn’t staying the night. The green floral
duvet cover went nicely with the green and cream fleck wallpaper. She’d buy some pretty lampshades and cushions to decorate her room. Once she had the rocking-chair in place by the window and
her books on the shelves, the place would look homely and nice.
She could hardly concentrate at work the next few days. The morning before the move, she put her black sacks in the car while her father was shaving. She would bring them to the house that
afternoon after school. Then the next morning she would put her mother’s rocking-chair in the back of the car. It would fit in the hatchback. She would never set foot in Rathbarry again,
except to visit her mother’s grave.
When she got home that evening, her father was cooking his tea. ‘You’re late,’ he remarked.
‘Yes,’ she said non-committally.
‘The board of management and the parish priest and teachers are planning a do for me the night of my last day at school. I presume you’ll be there. Ronan and Jennifer will also be
invited as my guests,’ William said proudly. He would be in his element that night.
You presume too much, she felt tempted to say. But she didn’t. Only one more night at home and she didn’t want the hassle of a row. No way was she going to sit and listen to
laudatory speeches about her father from all the lick-arses in the parish. They didn’t know what he was like to live with. Let Ronan and Jennifer go if they wished, she wasn’t going.
William was so certain she’d be there, he never noticed that she hadn’t answered him. He sat pontificating about how everyone kept telling him the school wouldn’t be the same
without him. He’d been there for forty-five years. He was the cornerstone of the school. No-one could fill his footsteps, he informed his secretly scornful daughter.
She went to bed early. It was strange to lie in bed and look around the little room that had always been her haven from her father and know that she’d never sleep in it again. She felt
desperately lonely, suddenly, for her mother. She’d gone into her mother’s room for a last look around. It was just as it had been when she died. But it felt empty. Her mother’s
spirit did not linger there now. The room was cold and unwelcoming. Just the musty smell of disuse. Rachel had not been tempted to stay.
She didn’t sleep much, feeling coiled and tense. When dawn broke she was utterly relieved that her ordeal was almost over. While her father was shaving she packed her last bits and pieces
and then made her way slowly and quietly down the stairs carrying Theresa’s rocking-chair. It was awkward. She half expected her father to make an appearance at the bathroom door to find out
what the noise was, but he didn’t. He’d grown somewhat hard of hearing over the past couple of years. Rachel thanked God for it. It was a bit of a struggle getting the chair into the
back of the car but after much pushing and shoving she managed it. She was sitting drinking her coffee when her father arrived downstairs for his breakfast.
Rachel stood up. Her heart was thumping and she could feel a tremor in her left leg. She took her house key out of her bag and placed it on the kitchen table. ‘I won’t be needing
this any more. I’m moving out. If there’s any post for me redirect it to St Catherine’s. I won’t be coming to your retirement do.’ She didn’t say goodbye. She
didn’t look at her father as she spoke. She walked from the kitchen through the hall and then through the front door. Rachel didn’t look back.
William Stapleton stared at the key on the kitchen table. He was stunned. Was he having a dream or had Rachel just told him she was leaving home? He walked smartly to the hall
window. His eyes widened with shock as he saw Rachel get into her car. Was he seeing things or was that Theresa’s rocking-chair on its side in the back seat? His heart started to palpitate.
She was leaving him. He never thought she’d have the gumption. Let her leave, he raged. She’d come running back. Rachel hadn’t the backbone to manage on her own. She’d come
running back. He had no doubt about it.
‘I did it. I did it,’ Rachel muttered as she drove past tenacres as if the devil himself was after her. Sanity returned and she slowed down to a safer speed.
She’d done it. She’d taken the irreversible step. She felt scared and exhilarated but she was not sorry. She had not one ounce of affection for the man she’d left behind. She
never wanted to see him again.
Chapter Eighty
The house was unnaturally quiet. Brenda cleaned up the breakfast dishes and didn’t know whether she felt happy or sad. She kept expecting Lauren to come rushing in to
tell her something, or John to come in from the garden with a daisy he’d picked for her. Even the garden looked forlorn, the swing unmoving, the sandpit empty.
Bringing the twins for their first day at school was an ordeal. Lauren was raring to go. She wanted to wear a uniform and be exactly like her older sister. But John hung back shyly, his lower
lip wobbling. And Brenda wanted to gather him up in her arms and bring him back home with her. He was only an infant. Four was awfully young to start school. But that was the age they started these
days. Kathy’s pair had started at four and Kathy was now working part-time for an accountant who specialized in audits. She was as happy as Larry.
She felt like a
real
person again, she’d confided to Brenda. Not someone’s wife. Not someone’s mother. Her own woman again. Brenda knew exactly how she felt and, to
her surprise, she envied Kathy. If anyone had told her she’d want to get back into the workplace she’d have told them they were mad.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love her children, she did. It was just that Brenda felt her life revolved totally around them. The grinding repetition of cooking, washing and keeping the
house clean bored her beyond measure. There had to be more to life than this. Kathy’s return to work had brought this home to Brenda very strongly. Her friend’s conversation was
peppered with mentions of the various jobs she’d been on and all the people she was meeting again. Kathy always looked very well but now there was an air of extra confidence about her, a pep
in her step. Brenda felt positively boring beside her. It didn’t help, either, that Jenny and Paula were making huge strides in their careers. Brenda had visited Jenny’s recently, and
Paula arrived wearing a fabulous taupe suit, carrying a briefcase. She looked like that gorgeous blonde in
Knot’s Landing
. Brenda felt like the greatest frump ever. It was very
depressing.