Authors: Patricia Scanlan
Monica, in fairness, had a point. Caroline
had
changed.
Having reached the lowest point in her life with her suicide attempt and drinking, Caroline had come to an awareness of another aspect of her life which had opened a whole new world to her. In
the depths of her misery and pain, when she had felt utterly abandoned and completely alone, one night when she’d been in the rehab clinic she’d fallen to her knees and asked the
Almighty for help.
She’d cried her eyes out and whispered, ‘God? Help me! Help me! Help me.’ She’d cried all that night, great wrenching sobs that had shaken her thin, pain-racked body from
head to toe, but in the morning, having slept for a couple of hours after dawn, she’d awoken feeling lighter, better, and almost serene. The great knot of pain, grief, and loneliness that had
lodged in her breastbone seemed to have unravelled. And she had the strangest sense that she was not alone.
Later, after breakfast and a counselling session, she had wandered into the small library and had stood idly at the bookcase, perusing the titles. Almost as if she’d been drawn to it,
she’d reached out and pulled out a book comfortingly title
Embraced by the Light
. It was the story of a woman, Betty J. Eadie, who had undergone a near-death experience that had
changed her life.
Caroline had been unable to put the book down. Something in her changed that day: she became aware that life was much more than a physical journey. In time, having read many such books and
having spent many hours alone, thinking, asking for help and guidance, she came to realize that her alcoholism had been a gift bringing a spiritual dimension and awareness to her life that she
might never have experienced otherwise. In that light, she was able to see herself not as a victim but as a seeker on an incredible journey that unfolded and led her where she knew not, every hour
of every day.
Along the dark parts of that long avenue she’d been brought to her knees, but she’d picked herself up, forged ahead and she knew now with certainty that whatever happened in her
life, guidance was with her. All she had to do was ask.
It wasn’t an easy journey. Trying to bear in mind ‘
This moment is as it should be
’ when her world seemed to have started to fall apart again, and trying to
‘
Judge not, that you be not judged
,’ when Richard was being a shit and Mrs Yates was controlling and manipulating all over the place, was extremely difficult.
Caroline sighed deeply as she reflected on her current situation. Intuitively, she knew that once she made the first positive step towards leaving, doors would open for her. It had happened for
her when she’d left Richard before. She’d got the job in Abu Dhabi, and on her return Devlin had offered her the challenging position in City Girl. All she had to do was to make the
leap of faith and leave Richard, and something would turn up. It was just a question of having the courage to do it.
She wasn’t great on courage, she thought despondently, as she twisted and untwisted the telephone cord. Devlin had much more courage than she had. She’d gone and lived in a high-rise
flat in Ballymun when she’d been a single mother with Lynn. And then when her baby and her aunt had been killed in that awful car crash, and she’d suffered dreadful injuries,
she’d forced herself to go on living even though she wanted to die too. And now look at her, happily married, pregnant and successful beyond her wildest dreams. Only an incredibly brave
person could have overcome what Devlin had endured.
When things had got rough for Caroline, she’d taken to the bottle, she thought in disgust.
‘Now stop that!’ she said aloud. It was very wrong for her to compare herself to someone else. Everyone had to tread their own path. She’d once again given into negative
thinking. Enough was enough.
She said a little prayer, asking for courage, picked up the phone and took a deep breath. She flicked through her rolodex and found the number she wanted and dialled it.
‘Murray & Murray, Estate Agents and Auctioneers,’ a pleasant voice came down the line.
‘Hello, could I speak to Olivia O’Neill please? It’s a personal call,’ she said crisply.
‘Certainly. One moment and I’ll connect you,’ the receptionist said politely. ‘Just hold the line.’
‘Greensleeves’ came tinnily over the airwaves as Caroline waited impatiently.
Olivia was a friend from way back when Caroline had worked in an estate agents. Although Olivia had moved from their old firm, she and Caroline had kept in touch.
‘Hello?’ Her friend’s delightful Kerry lilt had never disappeared, even after twenty years in Dublin.
‘Olivia, it’s Caroline, I’ve a favour to ask.’
‘Hiya, Caroline. Ask away,’ Olivia said cheerfully.
‘Well it’s like this, Olivia. I’m leaving Richard and I want to buy a place of my own. I was wondering if you would keep an eye out for me,’ Caroline explained.
‘Well it’s about bloody time,’ the other woman said bluntly. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Now if you can wait a couple of months there’s a very nice new block of
apartments and town houses coming onstream, not too far from your neck of the woods, down towards St Anne’s Park in Raheny. You might consider them. I’d really advise you to go for
somewhere new, you won’t have to pay stamp duty as a first-time buyer and you won’t have to upgrade or redecorate as you might with a second-hand property. But of course you know all
that yourself, you being an old hand.’
‘Yeah, an old, old hand. Practically geriatric.’ Caroline grinned.
‘So you’re taking the plunge at last. Good on you, Caroline. It will be the start of a whole new life for you and I want to come to the house-warming party. You must know a few
well-heeled eligible hunks you could introduce me to.’ Olivia was a separated mother of two.
‘Like yourself, Olivia, I know a few heels, eligible or not. The man will come when he’s meant to.’
‘I’m fed up waiting,’ the other woman moaned. ‘I went to a singles dance the other night, Caroline. Boy was that an experience! I met this guy – gorgeous-looking,
late thirties – who spent the whole night talking about himself and his problems. He was married, separated for years, had one child, a boy. He’d been in a few relationships since but
was currently single. By the time he’d told me that he’d never really loved anyone in his whole life, ever, I was nearly crying. I wanted to say, “You can learn to love me.
I’ll love you. I’ll take care of you.” Caroline, I’m telling you he pressed every single button and I was ready to jump in. You know me and my maternal instincts!’
‘What happened?’ Caroline asked. She’d never met anyone like Olivia for letting her heart rule her head.
‘We made a date to go to dinner in Mario’s. I did all the booking. I had several phone calls from him in the meantime and we talked and talked . . . all about him naturally . . . and
then I sat waiting for him to collect me at seven, from my house. And waited . . . and waited. The fucker stood me up. And he looked so bloody respectable. Suit, tie, his own business. Imagine!
Imagine being thirty-nine years of age and being stood up. It’s outrageous. It’s ridiculous. That happens to fifteen-year-olds, for God’s sake!’
‘Girl, you had a lucky escape,’ Caroline retorted. ‘He lied when he told you that he’d never loved anyone in his whole life. He’s so in love with himself
there’s no room for anyone else. If he phones you again, do yourself a favour and hang up. You’re not that desperate.’
‘Oh yes I am,’ wailed Olivia. ‘I’m lonely, Caroline. I miss having a man around the house. I miss coming home and telling someone the news of the day. My kids are
adorable but all they want to do is watch MTV and play on the computer. I hate sleeping on my own. It’s cold. I want loving arms, a nice furry hairy chest, and long hard legs wrapped around
me keeping me warm.’
‘Did you ever think of trying the zoo?’ Caroline teased, amused at Olivia’s description.
‘Bitch.’ Olivia chuckled. ‘What finally made you decide to call it a day with Richard?’
‘Well, it was a joint decision originally, and we were going for a divorce as well. Richard was going to sell the firm and move to Boston, but then Mrs Yates had a heart attack after
hearing the news, so he’s not selling and he’s not going and now he’s iffy about the divorce too. If I don’t do it now, I’ll never do it. It would have been easier if
things had gone to plan. He’s kind of blaming me for Mrs Yates’s heart attack.’
‘Typical,’ Olivia said dryly. ‘But don’t you dare take that guilt trip on board,’ her friend warned. ‘Great move on her part, though. She has him for life
now.’
‘Yeah,’ Caroline sighed. ‘It’s a very destructive relationship and I’m not getting drawn in deeper than I am already. It’s time to walk away.’
‘Walking away is the hardest thing in the world,’ Olivia said sadly and Caroline’s heart went out to her. Olivia had been married to a gambler. She loved him deeply but
he’d lost every penny they had. Because of his addiction they’d been in debt up to their ears. Caroline knew she still wept for him, even after three years of separation.
‘Listen, why don’t we have a night out? I promise I won’t stand you up. I’ll be at your front door at seven on the dot. I don’t have a hairy chest but I could give
you a hug if that would help?’ Caroline suggested.
‘I’d love it. When? Where?’
‘Hell! Why not Mario’s?’
‘Why not?’ Olivia laughed.
‘Right! I’ll check to see what the bookings are like and get back to you. Talk to you soon, Olivia,’ Caroline said light-heartedly. Now that she’d taken the first step
towards making the break, she felt as if a load had lifted from her shoulders.
‘You haven’t sold the firm, have you?’ Sarah Yates asked in a quavery voice.
‘No, Mother, I haven’t,’ Richard assured her.
‘And you’re not leaving me alone to go to America?’
‘No.’
‘And you’re not going to get a divorce?’ She fixed him with a beady stare.
‘No, Mother. I told you so last night and the night before.’
He looked pasty-faced and unhappy, but it was good enough for him, for giving her a fright like that, Sarah thought unforgivingly as she lay back against the crisp white pillows and closed her
eyes.
‘Are you all right, Mother? Should I get a nurse?’ he asked anxiously.
‘No. I’m just tired. You can go now if you want to. When you come in tomorrow bring me the blue bedjacket that’s in the middle drawer of my dressing-table. And bring me my
missal.’
She kept her eyes closed as she heard him put on his black overcoat and only opened them when he took her hand in his and bid her good night.
‘Good night, Richard. Make sure Mrs Gleeson is keeping the house clean and check the sideboard for dust. I don’t trust her to dust properly when I’m not there to
inspect.’
‘Very well, Mother.’ Richard gave her hand a limp squeeze.
She didn’t return the pressure. Withholding approval and affection was the best way of dealing with Richard when he was recalcitrant. It was a method that had always worked, from the time
he’d been a little boy.
She closed her eyes again when he slipped quietly out of the room. She was tired. But triumphant, she thought with satisfaction. Richard wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t selling his
legal practice and he wasn’t putting his immortal soul in danger and disgracing the family name by divorcing. The battle had been won. But at what cost?
A tear trickled down Sarah’s cheek. She’d never been ill in her life. She’d been up and about two days after having Richard, at a time when women stayed in bed ten days and
more after a confinement. She had always been strong and fit. Now she hadn’t an ounce of energy and she felt as if she’d been run over by a bus. She’d never taken tablets in her
life, now the nurses were giving them to her morning, noon and night and they were making her feel most peculiar. They were causing her to have strange, frightening dreams that disturbed her. But
the worst thing of all was that the specialist had told her that she was going to have heart surgery when she was stronger. The idea of being cut open terrified her. She’d be lucky if she
didn’t die of fright first, she thought tearfully.
Stop that now, stop it
, she ordered herself. She willed herself to a calmer state. There was to be no more talk of dying. She had no intention of dying. She had no illusions about what
would happen if she died. That Caroline, the unscrupulous hussy, would convince Richard that a divorce was the best thing for him. She’d make him sell his practice and probably demand half of
the proceeds, money to which she certainly was not entitled, and then she’d go off and leave him for some fancy man. She’d have won! That was unthinkable.
Another thought struck her. She should add a codicil to her will stating that Richard could only inherit her estate if he never divorced. That would sort that little matter, she thought grimly,
as she drifted off into an unsatisfactory drug-induced sleep.
Richard pulled the collar of his overcoat up to his ears and hunched his shoulders miserably as he walked from the hospital to the car park. It was dark, cold, wet and windy.
Litter swirled at his feet. He felt like crying. If only Charles were here to comfort and console him. But Charles, his dearest friend, his only friend, was dead and he was alone.
A strangled sob erupted from his throat, and he kept his head bent, his chin practically touching his chest, as he hurried towards the car, afraid he would be seen. It was so unmanly to cry. But
he didn’t feel manly at all. He never really had. He felt like a lonely, terrified little boy who was completely trapped.
Charles was the only one who had understood him. Charles was the only one who’d known every intimate thing about him. Only Charles knew how much he really hated his mother. But Charles was
gone, dead and buried, taking that sinful secret to the grave.
Caroline probably knew, of course, she was very perceptive about things like that. She’d always stood up for him against his mother and he’d always resented it, because it made him
feel weak and insecure. But at least he didn’t have to put on an act with her. She knew him. And now she was leaving him.