Stand by Me (28 page)
‘Were you listening?’ asked Kelly.
‘I heard some of it,’ Dominique told her. ‘I listened on my way to Stephanie’s. Then we got caught up in the planning for next month’s festival. I liked the talking-dog slot, though quite honestly I didn’t understand a word he was supposed to be saying.’
Kelly’s job at the radio station was temporary cover for the summer months. She worked as an assistant researcher, which actually meant general dogsbody, as the station was small and local and almost everybody had to do everything. She’d got the job through her college website and she was enjoying it tremendously. Kelly’s ambition was to be a presenter herself some day, although, as she regularly told Dominique and Brendan, she wanted to do serious stuff too, not just sex-and-shopping items and being nice to not-very-famous local celebrities.
‘Like me, you mean?’ Dominique had grinned at her and Kelly had looked slightly abashed.
Today she planned to interview her mother about her charity work, and to talk to some of the women who came to the garden party, to ask them about their lives. Kelly knew that many people thought the charity circuit as vapid and pointless as some of the women who populated it, but the dinners and balls and parties did raise a huge amount of money. And surely that was better than nothing?
Dominique watched as Kelly skipped up the stairs to her room and thought, as she always did, that her daughter was the cleverest and loveliest girl in the whole world. Kelly was tall and slender and she walked with a sense of purpose that made her a noticeable figure. She was enjoying her media and communications studies at college, and she was enjoying the social side of her life too, being involved in lots of different societies and groups. Dominique knew that Kelly didn’t suffer from the crippling insecurities that had swamped her during her own school years, and nor (as Dominique herself had) did she regard boys as some kind of mysterious race, impossible to understand. Kelly often had a boyfriend in tow, though she was equally happy when there was nobody special around. Dominique knew that her daughter was never fazed about her relationships and never spent hours hovering around the phone as she had when she’d first started going out with Brendan.
Not, of course, that Kelly needed to hover around the house phone when all of her communication was done either on her mobile or by email. Even though Dominique sometimes felt that the biggest difference between her and her outgoing daughter was self-confidence, she also knew that a major difference was that Kelly was never out of touch with anyone. Day or night she could contact a friend and spill her heart out - although Dominique would remind herself that that wasn’t something Kelly appeared to need to do. Nevertheless, the option was there to be able to contact someone easily and never to be out of touch herself. Dominique thought that this was a good thing, although she did wonder how on earth her daughter would react if her mobile phone was ever prised from her grasp.
She walked out into the garden and surveyed the work of the caterers and party planners. The theme of today’s event was Magical Childhood, and so the flower-filled garden had been turned into a fairy grotto, with coloured lanterns (though on such a glorious day it was far too bright to actually see them) and tiny models of elves and fairies clipped to trees and shrubs. Waist-high tables were strewn with rose petals - Dominique was thankful that the day was calm as well as hot, so the petals stayed where they were supposed to; and each table had plenty of golden envelopes into which she expected guests to place donations for the charity. Dominique had arranged for a jazz band and a singer too. She reckoned that it would be a great day and would go some way towards helping to fund some of the equipment the hospital so desperately needed.
She liked hosting charity functions. The first time she’d done it – a very small party to help fund-raise for the school sports facilities – she’d been shaking with nerves. But people had loved coming to Atlantic View and enjoyed the wine and canapés she’d provided, and afterwards Mrs Deegan, the school principal, had told her that it had been their most effective fund-raiser ever. And now, even though some of the events she got involved in were in the glitziest of venues and were reported on in the gossip magazines, she still liked the ones at her home the most.
It amazed her, when she looked back on it, how quickly she had become involved in so many different things. The charities covered a wide range of issues, and she was also involved in a post-natal depression support group in the area. What surprised her the most was the sense of purpose that being part of these organisations gave her and the amount of time and energy that she was prepared to put into everything she did. There had been a short period when it had all been about the glamour. But now the glitz had to be there for a reason, which was why she carefully considered every invitation she and Brendan were sent.
Brendan had told her that he’d try to get back to say hello to her guests later that afternoon. Her husband was always a big draw at the events because everyone liked to see a local person who’d done well for themselves. Recently he’d raised a lot of money from local investors for a building project in Barbados, promising them that they’d do well out of it too, saying that he wanted to spread the wealth around. He was known for being a generous employer and a sociable man, and even in middle age he was still tall and broad and very attractive. Dominique often told him, with some amusement, that the takings for the charities were always higher when he turned up because the women didn’t want to disappoint him. They’d disappoint her, all right, she’d say with a smile. But when he went around the tables to collect the envelopes, she knew that there’d be an extra few bob in each one.
She glanced at her watch. He was in Dublin today, having spent a lot of time in the capital over the past few weeks at various meetings. He’d been grumpy the previous night about having to go to yet another, saying that it was sometimes hard to make the money men understand the value of what he was trying to achieve. He’d headed off early that morning, well before she’d woken, because he liked driving while the roads were empty. She’d texted him to remind him about the garden party, and he’d texted back to say that he hadn’t forgotten but he wasn’t sure about getting home in time. She’d made a face at that, because it would be nice if he could press the flesh and work his magic and charm a little extra out of all the women who’d turned up.
I’m so lucky, she murmured to herself. And I was so, so right not to throw it all down the pan by overreacting about Little Miss Valentine all those years ago. I did the right thing.
It was nearly a month after the discovery of the text before she told Brendan that she’d seen a message on his phone, by accident, and that it had seemed highly inappropriate to her. (It had taken so long because she’d had to practise saying the words ‘highly inappropriate’ over and over again until she was able to deliver them without a quiver in her voice.) An expression of horror, followed by denial, crossed Brendan’s face. Because she’d expected as much, she was prepared for this too. She told him that she didn’t mind if he’d made a mistake, that everybody did from time to time. But, she’d said, she didn’t want him to make any mistakes that would threaten their marriage or hurt Kelly. She didn’t want him to make mistakes that could come back to haunt them.
‘You’re right,’ he said eventually. ‘It
was
a mistake. You and Kelly are and always will be the most important people in my life.’
was
a mistake. You and Kelly are and always will be the most important people in my life.’
Hearing him say it was both a relief and a disappointment. There was a part of her that still hoped that she was the one who’d made the mistake, who’d got the wrong end of the stick and spent the last four weeks worrying needlessly.
‘Does she matter to you?’ She kept her tone as even as possible.
‘No.’ Brendan sighed. ‘And it wasn’t really what you think, either.’
‘Oh?’ Dominique felt a spurt of relief in her heart, but then she remembered that the message had called him
my Valentine
. There was no point in getting her hopes up.
my Valentine
. There was no point in getting her hopes up.
‘It was mostly texts,’ Brendan said.
‘Huh?’
‘I met her at a business conference. She was fun and we got on well. We kept in touch by text. They were jokey at first and then I suppose they became, well, flirty.’
‘She sent other texts? I didn’t see any.’
‘I usually deleted them. I thought I’d deleted that one too. It was harmless fun, Domino.’
‘So you’re saying you didn’t sleep with her?’ Dominique was incredulous.
Brendan looked as though he was going to deny it, and then his shoulders drooped. ‘It happened,’ he admitted. ‘But that wasn’t really what it was all about.’
Dominique tried not to think of him sleeping with another woman. It was too painful.
‘It was about the messages,’ he said. ‘Silly messages at odd times during the day.’
‘Silly messages?’ Dominique couldn’t help letting anger into her voice. ‘I doubt that they were silly, Brendan. Erotic, I bet. And they clearly led to more ...’
Despite her promise to herself not to cry, she choked up, unable to continue.
‘It wasn’t as bad as you think,’ he protested. ‘We didn’t do half the things . . . and, Domino, I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me.’
‘So
why
?’
why
?’
‘Because she was there.’
‘Oh, Brendan.’
‘I’m sorry. I was at the conference and I was missing home and she started talking to me, and I know it was wrong but I did it anyway.’ There was a note of defiance in his voice. ‘And ...’ he continued, ‘she treated me as though I was an important person.’
‘I treat you like an important person!’
‘No you don’t,’ he said. ‘You treat me like the person I always was. She treated me like a rich businessman.’
‘You want me to treat you differently?’ Dominique was confused.
Brendan sighed. ‘Not really. It’s just that with you, I’m always Brendan the Brickie. With her, I was Brendan Delahaye, entrepreneur. I was somebody.’
Dominique wasn’t sure what to say.
‘I know you probably think I’m silly and immature,’ said Brendan. ‘But it was nice to be . . . to be deferred to.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Dominique. ‘You want a Stepford Wife.’
‘Of course I don’t,’ he said. ‘
You’re
my wife. I just wanted a bit of excitement.’
You’re
my wife. I just wanted a bit of excitement.’
‘Do we not get enough?’ she asked. ‘When we go to the dinners and the galas and stuff?’
‘That’s different.’
She felt a surge of panic rising within her. Was this how marriages ended? she wondered. Not with constant arguments and rows over stupid things but stuttering to an end because one or the other person felt there was no excitement any more?
‘So what do you want to do about it?’ asked Dominique.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I really am. It was a bit of fun, that’s all.’
‘And have you ever had this sort of fun with anyone else?’
A flicker of guilt passed over his face and she thought she was going to faint. Had there been scores of women? Because that would change things utterly, wouldn’t it? One mistake could possibly be understood, but multiple text lovers was something very different.
‘No,’ he said. ‘There was once or twice when I . . . when I thought about it, but no.’
‘Do you love me?’ asked Dominique.
He put his arms around her. ‘You’re my family,’ he said. ‘You and Kelly. You know how important my family is to me. And you, Domino, you’re my lucky charm.’
‘I don’t feel very lucky,’ she said flatly. ‘And you slept with another woman. That shows how important your family is to you.’
‘Please, please believe me when I say it really didn’t mean anything. It was - oh, the opportunity was there and I took it and I know it was wrong. And I know that the texts were wrong too. I’m sorry, Domino.’
‘Do you want to leave me?’
‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘We work, Domino, you and me. You’re the best asset I have. And you’re still my lucky charm.’
It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. She didn’t want to be his asset. Or even his lucky charm. She just wanted to be the person he loved.
‘We’re a partnership,’ he told her.
She could see why he’d looked for text sex if he just thought of her as a partner. She needed to be more than that to him.
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