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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

Foreign Affairs (91 page)

BOOK: Foreign Affairs
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She felt much better, Jennifer thought with relief. Maybe her hormones had gone awry after her miscarriage. Her fears seemed to have lessened, she didn’t feel so emotionally shaky.
She’d even begun to think about having another baby. The doctors had told her there was no reason why she shouldn’t conceive in the future. She was still desperately sad about Danielle,
but it seemed to her that the baby’s spirit was near her, comforting her. She had gone for a walk to the village yesterday and slipped into the tiny cool whitewashed church to say a prayer. A
beautiful icon of Our Lady and the infant Jesus hung above her head. The peaceful serenity of the little church calmed Jennifer’s agitation and she sat alone for half an hour thinking of her
baby and of Ronan. She felt at peace when she came out of the church. Last night, she had slept soundly for the first time since the accident.

The trees murmured in the breeze. The sound of the sea lulled her senses. By the time Paula appeared with the watermelon, Jennifer was asleep. Paula smiled in satisfaction. The more rest
Jennifer got the better. She needed to sleep. Paula had heard her crying softly into her pillow the first three nights of their holiday. Last night was the first night her friend had slept well.
Sleep was nature’s healer. She tilted the umbrella so that Jennifer’s head was shaded and then went back to her lounger and picked up her novel. She was near the end of it. If she
thought her own life was complicated, it was nothing compared to the trials and tribulations of the heroine’s. It was much easier to read about someone else’s trauma than to have to
think about her own, she thought wryly, pushing thoughts of Nick and Kieran to the deepest recesses of her mind. In the tranquillity of a sunny afternoon amidst the olive groves, Paula immersed
herself in her book and forgot her troubles.

Brenda and Rachel arrived home several hours later, full of the joys after their shopping trip to Corfu. Brenda studiously ignored Paula, much to her amusement. Silly prat, she thought. If
Brenda wanted to be childish that was entirely up to her. It was no skin off Paula’s nose. She couldn’t care less. Brenda Hanley wasn’t going to ruin her holiday.

Chapter Ninety-Two

‘I don’t believe it.’ Brenda was disgusted. She got out of bed and went over to the window and opened the shutters. It was lashing out of the heavens. Great
rumbles of thunder rolled across from the Albanian coast. The sky was a dirty grey. She couldn’t even make out the horizon. She watched the rain dancing up and down on the terrace as the pool
rippled and shimmied beneath the onslaught. It was the sixth day of their holidays. She was in a foul mood.

The last two nights, Paula and Jennifer had come dancing at the taverna on the beach. She wished they’d stayed at home. It was her own fault, of course. Brenda scowled as she got back into
bed and buried her head under the pillows. Nothing would satisfy her until she’d persuaded them to party. That turncoat Yiannis, who had been flirting with her, had been smitten by Paula and
had danced attendance on her, as had half the male population of Corfu. It was galling. Brenda was so furious she felt like throwing one of the Greek vases that decorated her bedroom right out onto
the terrace and smashing it into smithereens.

Brenda had ignored Paula for the last two days, after Paula had the nerve to rebuke her like a six-year-old, but that made no difference to the blonde bombshell. Paula acted as if Brenda
didn’t exist, and had swiped her Greek admirer from under her nose for good measure. She needn’t think Brenda was going to take it lying down. And that Jennifer one was no better,
Brenda fumed. You’d think Paula was her sister, not Brenda. They were always laughing and giggling over their private jokes, shutting her out. Half the time they were laughing at her. Brenda
was sure of it. She wasn’t even going to have Rachel to hang around with today. She’d gone and got off with some Scottish bloke last night and was off sightseeing with him. Rachel had
dropped Brenda like a hot potato when her skinny Sir Galahad came along.

Brenda thumped her pillows to make them more comfortable, and tried to go back to sleep, but she was far too annoyed for sleep to come so she lay imagining smart retorts that would bring
Miss-Man-Snatcher-Matthews down to size.

Rachel was in a tizzy of excitement. Not even the rain could dampen her spirits. She was going out on a date. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. A smile crossed her
face. Her tan had come up wonderfully. It was the deepest most golden tan she’d ever acquired and the best thing of all was, she had no strap marks. Sunbathing topless had given her an
all-over, even colour. She’d been a bit shy the first day of her holidays and worn her bikini top. The other three had no such inhibitions and bared their bosoms to the sun. Paula and Jenny
were used to topless sunbathing and had all-over tans to prove it. Brenda wouldn’t listen to Paula’s advice to take it easy on the first day and wear a high factor cream. She’d
turned lobster. But Rachel listened. The following day, she stripped off to cheers and was guided by Paula as to what factor cream to use. The results were very satisfying. She looked healthy and
vibrant and utterly different from the mousy Miss of two weeks ago.

Her hair was elegantly casual. She wore the smart khaki culottes and a black halter-neck. She had applied her make-up carefully and was all ready for Ken, the Scottish man who’d invited
her out with him.

He was at the party she and Brenda had gone to on the first night of their holidays. He was with a group of Scottish lads. His friends were a bit rowdy. There was a lot of drinking, but Ken was
quiet. Shy like herself. They’d sat in a corner, chatting, watching Brenda dancing. Ken was a carpenter from Glasgow. It was his first time in Corfu. Rachel confessed that it was her first
foreign holiday. She’d been quite relaxed talking to him. He was nicer than the cocky Greek men who asked her to dance and tried to get off with her. The Greeks were too macho for her taste.
Brenda was welcome to them.

Brenda’s behaviour fascinated Rachel. She openly flirted with the taverna owner, Yiannis, despite the fact that she had a husband and three children at home. It was as if she was trying to
pretend that she was young, free and single again. Rachel felt sorry for her. Brenda was obviously a dissatisfied woman. The party ended and Ken smiled and thanked her for her company. Rachel had
enjoyed herself and went home quite happy. She didn’t expect to see him again but last night he and his friends arrived at Yiannis’s taverna. Ken made a beeline for her. They had a
great night. The atmosphere was wonderful. Paula and Jenny danced and sang and enjoyed themselves. She and Ken took a walk along the beach. When he asked her if she’d like to spend the next
day sightseeing, Rachel eagerly agreed.

She heard the sound of a car coming up the drive. Rachel glanced at her watch. Nine a.m. Dead on time, she approved. There wasn’t a sound from any of the others, so she walked quietly down
the landing in her bare feet and stood at the front door waiting for Ken.

‘A great day for ducks,’ he greeted her in his attractive Scots accent.

Rachel laughed. ‘Do you still want to go?’

‘Sure! Why not? We might as well.’

‘Would you like breakfast or anything?’ she asked.

‘I thought we might go to this little restaurant that I’ve discovered on the road to Beniteses. You should taste the coffee. It’s the best. And then we could drive down south.
The island is only forty miles from north to south and it’s only five or six miles wide in some parts. We could see a lot of it, in spite of the rain,’ he suggested.

‘That would be lovely,’ Rachel enthused. ‘Much better than hanging around doing nothing all day. What are your friends doing?’

‘Nursing massive hangovers.’ Ken grinned. ‘It’s not really my scene.’

‘Or mine.’ Rachel laughed. ‘I had three glasses of brandy the night we flew in and I was out of it. I’ve no head for alcohol.’

‘I must remember that,’ teased Ken as he sheltered her under an umbrella and opened the car door for her. Rachel settled herself comfortably, shaking the drops of rain from her
hair.

‘Would you like to come to Corfu with us, Brenda? We’re going shopping,’ Paula asked crisply.

‘No thanks,’ Brenda said huffily. It might suit Paula and Jenny to go shopping today but Madame Paula needn’t think that Brenda was going to come running. They’d stuck
their noses in their books and left her to her own devices when she’d asked them to go shopping the other day. Well she wasn’t going to go tagging around Corfu in the rain after them.
They could get lost. She’d entertain herself, thank you very much.

‘Fine.’ Paula was not the slightest bit put out at her refusal. ‘Enjoy your day.’

Brenda ignored her. Paula sat calmly drinking her coffee, gazing out at the rain. When she was finished, she stood up, brought her breakfast dishes out to the kitchen and stacked them in the
dishwasher.

Brenda heard her footsteps clattering briskly up the wooden stairs.

‘Bitch!’ she muttered. Never again would she go on holidays with Paula Matthews. It just wasn’t worth the aggravation.

‘The sun’s splitting the trees in Dublin,’ Jennifer announced cheerfully. She’d just been on the phone to Ronan.

‘For God’s sake!’ Brenda exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me you phoned Ronan again. I don’t know why you bothered coming on holiday.’

‘Well at least I love my husband enough to phone him,’ Jennifer retorted, stung by her sister’s tone. ‘You’ve only phoned home once. And that was the first morning
you were here and you only stayed on for two minutes. You didn’t even talk to the kids.’

‘We’re not all loaded like you, Jenny,’ Brenda flared. ‘I get a pittance for my job. I can’t afford long-distance phone calls. And don’t you dare imply that I
don’t love Shay or the kids. You’ve a nerve.’

‘Don’t start, Brenda,’ Jennifer warned. She wasn’t in the humour for her sister this morning. Last night’s sulks had been more than enough to put up with.

‘Don’t
you
start!’ Brenda snapped. ‘I came away for a bit of peace and quiet and you expect me to ring home every day and listen to Shay moaning and the kids
whingeing. Don’t annoy me. Just
don’t
!’

‘You haven’t one bit of appreciation for your husband,’ Jennifer retorted. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are, Brenda Hanley. It makes me sick watching you let that
Yiannis yoke maul you around the place. You’re a married woman with three children, for God’s sake!’

‘I know I’m bloody married with three children. It’s all right for you to talk. You can come and go as you please. You’re not tied down the way I am. So mind your own
business,’ Brenda raged.

‘Tied down! That’s a joke! I never saw anyone less tied down. If you were tied down you damn well wouldn’t be able to come on holiday. You offload those children on anyone and
everyone. You take advantage of people’s good nature. You use Mam like a servant. Don’t make me laugh!’

‘You watch what you’re saying, Jennifer Myles,’ Brenda exploded. ‘How dare you say I offload my kids. Shay’s sister is minding them and I’m paying her good
money to look after them. She’ll give them the best of care.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Jennifer said scornfully. ‘The same Carol who took care of them the weekend you went away with Shay. The same one you moaned about to me, about the state she left
the house in and the amount of cider cans you found in the bin after her. Mam had to go and cook those kids a decent meal that weekend. In fact if it wasn’t for Mam those children would never
get a proper feed of vegetables and meat and potatoes. All you give them is frozen burgers and chips and beans. You should be ashamed of yourself giving your husband and children that stuff day in,
day out, because you’re too busy gadding about or too lazy to cook a dinner. Claudia told me she loves coming to my house for her dinner because she gets gravy and meat and mashed potatoes.
You’d want to cop on to yourself, Brenda. Grow up and be thankful for what you’ve got,’ Jennifer said furiously.

Brenda was white in the face. ‘You fuck off, Jennifer. Don’t take it out on me because you lost your baby. I’m sick of you.’ She stood up and turned on her heel and
almost bumped into Paula, who had come to see what the fuss was about.

‘And I’m sick of you too,’ she snarled at the astonished Paula.

‘Ditto,’ drawled Paula.

‘Smart ass,’ Brenda ranted. ‘I’ll never go on holiday with you pair again.’

‘Well you invited yourself or you wouldn’t have been on this one either,’ Paula retorted. ‘You’ve done nothing but sulk and act like a child since you came. You
should be ashamed of yourself.’

‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you jumped-up little scrubber. Just who do you think you are? Miss-High-and-Mighty-Company-Director-Matthews. You’ve always been a thorn
in my side. I can’t stand your guts. You just think you’re
IT
. Everybody falls all over you, including Jenny. You say jump, and she says, “How high?” It’s
sickening. Well some of us aren’t taken in by your airs and graces. You’d drop Jenny like a hot brick if you had to. All you care about is yourself and your career. It’s no wonder
you’re not married. Who’d have a ball-breaker like you?’ She was nearly crying with rage.

‘You are the most pathetic, immature, jealous, selfish creature I’ve ever come across in my entire life. I feel sorry for you,’ Paula said coldly. ‘Jennifer, I’ll
wait in the car for you.’

‘Fucking bitch,’ Brenda yelled after her. Paula ignored her. That made Brenda even more angry. She had a good mind to run after her and shove her in the pool.

‘Go on.’ She turned to Jennifer. ‘Run after your friend. You always take her side anyway. She might as well be your sister, because you don’t treat me like one.
I’ll never speak to you again after those things you said to me.’

‘That suits me fine,’ Jennifer snapped. She picked up her bag and followed Paula to the car, leaving Brenda staring after them in fury.

Chapter Ninety-Three

The cheek of them! Brenda glowered as she saw the car speed out of the driveway. The unmitigated cheek!

BOOK: Foreign Affairs
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