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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

Happy Ever After (45 page)

BOOK: Happy Ever After
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‘Have to go, got a call from work,’ he scrawled on the back of a flyer he found on the mantelpiece. Lily and Judith were in cahoots, it was clear, and the pair of witches was keeping him in the dark.
And
they’d had their bedrooms painted for free, paid for with his hard-earned money. It was the last penny of his either of them would ever see, Tom swore, as he let himself out, slamming the door behind him.

‘I never drank real champagne before,’ Lily confided as she held out her glass for a top-up. ‘Well, we had Babycham at your father’s and my wedding, but that’s not real champagne like this. I thought it would be a great treat for us and something to make this a special oosasio— ossio— occasion.’ She gave a tipsy little giggle, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright and giddy.

‘Drink up there, Mrs Baxter,’ Jillian grinned, filling up her glass. ‘And you, too, Judith.’

‘To Judith. A dear daughter and now a woman of property.’ Lily raised her glass a little unsteadily before taking a gulp, laughing when the fizz tickled her nose.

‘To you, Mother, for your kindness and bravery. I’m so grateful to you and so proud of you – well done.’ Judith clinked her glass with Lily’s, almost overwhelmed.

‘And to a very special occasion,’ Jillian toasted, as mother and daughter embraced affectionately, faces wreathed in smiles.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-
ONE

Melissa crushed half a Weetabix into a dish and poured just enough milk to dampen it. She was going to visit the stables with Connie in the afternoon, and she didn’t want to feel faint. She’d have the other half with an apple for her lunch before she got the Dart to Greystones. Her mom was in the dining room working on her laptop and making calls, and Melissa knew better than to disturb her. She strolled out on to the balcony and sat at the wrought-iron table, eating very slowly. She was starving. Once she’d found out they were going on holiday, she’d cut back big time so she wouldn’t look like an elephant in her bathing togs.

She was worried, though: it seemed her parents had copped that she was dieting. In the last few days, Barry had been cooking dinners and insisting that she eat with them and, once, when she’d left the table immediately after the meal to go and throw up, she’d found him waiting outside the door for her.

‘Are you ill, Muffin? Did I hear you getting sick?’ he’d asked, even though she’d done it as quietly as she possibly could.

‘No, Dad, I’m fine, I was just clearing my throat,’ she fibbed, hoping that he believed her. She sighed as she ate another little spoonful. She’d leave her dirty dish in the sink so that her mom could see that she’d eaten breakfast. The other half of the Weetabix was wrapped up in clingfilm in her handbag.

In two days’ time she’d be in Disneyworld, and then Paris, and then the south of France. They were staying in a posh hotel very near where Johnny Depp and Bono had villas. Bono had had Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie to visit; she’d read it in a magazine. Imagine if she saw any of them – she could take a photo on her phone. How cool would that be to show off when she went back to school in September? It was such a relief they were going abroad; she wouldn’t feel out of place when the other girls in the class were talking about their trips. Sarah was very worried; she was only going to visit her cousins in Cork. Her mother had had to stop working to take care of her grandmother, who was ill, and they weren’t even going to get to Spain for a week.

‘Hi, darling, are you eating breakfast? What are you having?’ Aimee interrupted her daydream and came and sat beside her at the table.

‘Weetabix.’ Melissa showed her the empty bowl with the damp bits clinging to the side.

‘Darling, I just want to say, it’s all very well keeping fit and losing weight, but don’t lose too much. It’s not good for you, and I need you to be on top form to help me when the baby comes.’ Aimee reached across and squeezed her hand.

Her mother looked tired. She had circles under her eyes, and she was quite pale. It was so strange to have her at home all day, even though she spent most of it working. Melissa and Sarah felt constrained by her presence; usually, they had their music on fairly loud, or played Wii tennis, yelling at each other when they got a point. Aimee always wanted to know where they were going and who they were seeing and, after the heady days of freedom earlier in the holidays, it was like a bucket of cold water dousing them having her mother there 24/7.

‘Are you looking forward to the holiday?’ Aimee asked, raising her face to the sun’s welcome rays.

‘Yeah – it’s a huge surprise. I wasn’t expecting it,’ Melissa said.

‘Me neither. I thought it would be your mid-term in October before we got away. Having the time off before I start my new job is a real bonus.’

‘And it’s great Dad’s coming too,’ Melissa slipped in, watching her mother’s reaction.

‘Wonderful,’ Aimee agreed heartily. Was she a bit too hearty, Melissa worried. ‘It’s going to be lovely to relax as a family. We should make the most of it.’

‘Are you really glad Dad’s coming? I heard you having a row,’ she blurted.

Aimee looked startled and a little embarrassed. ‘Oh, darling, every couple has rows, and we’re no different. Forget about it. Dad and I have,’ she said dismissively, waving her hand as if to brush away an unwelcome topic.

‘Really?’ Melissa persisted.

‘Yes, really.’ Aimee grimaced.

‘Mom, will you be bringing your BlackBerry?’ Melissa fiddled with her spoon.

‘I have to, darling. There’s a lot going on for me just now, setting up this new company, but I’ll only check it every so often. I promise.’

‘Umm,’ Melissa murmured. She’d heard that one before.

‘Honestly,’ her mother assured her. ‘Now, what do you think? I’m getting a new company car—’

‘Oh, can you get a Merc or BMW sportscar?’ Melissa was thrilled.

Aimee made a face. ‘A sportscar is much too girly for the image I’ve to portray, far too frivolous and silly and, besides, what use is it in the appalling weather we’ve had? How often do you get to put the roof down?’

‘Well, a big Merc or BMW then,’ Melissa said, disappointed.

Aimee shook her head. ‘Darling, every Tom, Dick and Harry has a Merc or a BMW nowadays. I was thinking of getting a top-of-the-range Lexus actually.’


Boring
.’ Melissa made a face.

‘No, darling, a Lexus makes a very subtle statement. It
oozes
class. It’s not a car for airheads, if you know what I mean. A woman driving a top-class Lexus is at the top of her game and not to be trifled with, and that’s the image I want to portray in my new job.’

‘I love Debbie’s soft-top,’ Melissa said wistfully. ‘Except they can’t afford it any more, and they’re going to get something smaller.’

‘Really?’ said Aimee, not in the slightest bit interested in whether Debbie and her husband could afford their soft-top. ‘Well, darling, that’s tough, but my new job pays very, very well, and we are going on a serious spending spree in Paris, you and me.’ Aimee smiled at her and got up from the table.

‘Deadly.’ Melissa grinned. ‘Hey, Mom – you know the way I’m going to visit the stables with Connie to see Frisky today?’

‘Yes.’

‘Could I get a horse some day?’

‘I’ll talk to Dad about it,’ Aimee said slowly, thinking if they got their daughter a horse it might take her mind off dieting and give her something else to think about. It would also be good to drop it into conversation.
My daughter’s crazy about her horse, she’s never at home
 . . . It would be a fine social investment as well as an interest for Melissa. ‘It might be good for you to have a horse; you’d get plenty of fresh air,’ she added.

‘Oh cool, Mom, cool. Only three girls in the class have their own horses.’ She jumped up and hugged Aimee excitedly.

Aimee hugged her back. ‘You need to be fit and healthy to ride horses, so maybe have some brown bread or toast with your Weetabix every morning,’ she suggested.

‘I
am
fit and healthy, Mom.’ Melissa’s eyes slid away from her mother’s gaze.

‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ Aimee said. Her phone rang, and it was with the greatest relief that Melissa watched her go to answer it. She just hoped that her mom and dad would get off her back about food. If they didn’t, it would take all the fun out of going on holidays and getting a horse. It would give her something else to worry about, and she didn’t need that.

‘There’s only one Weetabix gone out of the box; I counted them last night.’ Aimee kept her voice low so that Melissa wouldn’t overhear her phone call.

‘And she’s definitely making herself sick. When we come back from France we’ll bring her to the doctor. Might as well let her have a bit of fun first. I’ve been reading the literature Connie emailed over. Scary stuff, but she’s given us names and contact numbers so we can decide what’s the best route to go when we’ve spoken to the doctor,’ Barry said wearily. ‘Do you want to ask your dad for advice? Maybe he could get her seen to quickly?’

‘Absolutely not,’ Aimee retorted vehemently. ‘I don’t want him to know anything about it. He’d think that it was a terrible weakness of character, and I won’t have him looking down his nose at her. It’s bad enough that he looks down his nose at me.’

‘He wouldn’t be like that surely,’ Barry protested.

‘I’m not giving him the chance.’

‘OK then. It was just a thought.’

‘She asked me about getting a horse. She’s going to some stables with Saint Connie to see a foal today.’ Aimee studied her reflection in the dining-room mirror and noted that she could do with a Botox treatment. She wouldn’t be able to have that while she was pregnant. She’d have a forehead like a walnut shell by the time she had the baby, she thought dolefully.

‘Don’t call Connie that,’ Barry said irritably. ‘She’s been very good to Melissa.’

‘Umm . . . Well, anyway, I told Melissa I’d talk to you about it, and I told her that she’d have to be fit and healthy to be riding horses.’

‘Good thinking. I’d buy her a stableful of horses if it would sort her out,’ Barry said morosely.

’I know. Anyway, I have to go, I’ve another call on the line,’ she fibbed. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye, and Aimee . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘Don’t forget to eat something yourself.’

‘I won’t,’ she sighed, before hanging up. Food was the last thing she wanted, but it behoved her to eat for the baby’s sake. It was bad enough having to worry about one sick child without worrying that she was harming the one she was carrying by not taking proper nutrition. Heavy-hearted, she walked slowly back to her desk and tried to immerse herself in the challenge of setting up a new company.

Barry gave a wry smile as he put the phone down. It hadn’t even cost Aimee a second’s thought to entertain the idea of buying and keeping a horse. She hadn’t told him what her new salary was. They weren’t back that close yet. Still, at least they were rowing in the same canoe and putting on some sort of a united front and, for that, he was thankful. Maybe the holiday away would do them good.
He
needed a holiday for sure.

He picked up his mobile to ring Connie. He’d been rude to her the other night. Hurt and anger had made him lash out; he should apologize. She didn’t have to bring Melissa to that stables this afternoon; she was going out of her way to be kind, and he should acknowledge it. He dialled her number but, to his disappointment, it rang out, and he didn’t leave a message. He’d catch her again later, he decided, as he Googled anorexia and clicked on a website that caught his attention.

Tight black jeans, Manolo slingbacks and a clingy black vest top that showed off her pert boobs and toned arms to perfection today, Marianna decided as she surveyed the contents of her wardrobe. She was just back from Dublin having visited her father, and she was changing to drive over to Greystones with Drew’s gift voucher. She’d found the address of the stables in the phone book, Googled it up and read his most impressive website. Drew had done well for himself since their divorce. He’d built up a thriving business, and the testimonials were top notch.

She’d bought him a hundred-euro voucher for Avoca Handweavers. If he didn’t like the household or clothing departments, he could use it in their garden centre. It gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction to be spending her lying bastard of a husband’s money on Drew. Not that
he
really deserved it, she thought irately, inserting gold hoops into her ears. Her ex hadn’t even bothered to lift the phone to inquire after her father. That was bad form. Drew
was
his ex-son-in-law, after all, and, surely, he must, at this stage, realize that, when her father was negotiating her divorce settlement, he was only doing what any good father would do.

Marianna sighed. Her father was going to have to have a triple bypass, so she would have to spend a significant amount of time at home this year. It would be nice to have Drew onside to provide a bit of diversion.

She applied her make-up, including her false lashes, and added extra lipgloss. She studied herself critically in the full-length mirror. No, she really didn’t look a day over thirty-five, and her gym work and lipo had really paid off, she thought with immense satisfaction, wondering how he’d be able to resist her. Humming, she made her way downstairs, took the Merc’s keys off the mahogany hall table and click-clacked down the marble steps of her father’s Edwardian pile, bursting with anticipation.

‘Nice dress,’ Drew murmured, as Connie got out of the car.

‘Thanks.’ She smiled, wishing she could kiss him. She was wearing a fifties-style green and white halterneck floral sundress that showed off her curvy figure and golden tan, and a pair of white espadrilles.

‘Drew, this is Melissa. Melissa, this is Drew.’ She introduced the teenager, who had come around from her side of the car and was standing shyly by the bonnet.

‘Very nice to meet you, Melissa.’ Drew looked at her kindly and shook her hand firmly.

‘Hi,’ she said quietly. ‘Cool stables.’

‘Thanks; it’s a good place to work. Do you want to see Frisky?’

‘Oh, yes please,’ she said eagerly. ‘My mom said she’d talk to my dad about getting me a horse,’ she confided.

BOOK: Happy Ever After
9.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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