Two For Joy (35 page)

Neil was at his computer when she popped into the showroom, which to her surprise was still open. He was engrossed in an email, most unlike him, she thought in surprise as she bent to kiss the top of his head. Neil hated computers and could make a hames of the slightest little thing. He'd mastered email only after a couple of hours tutorial from her.

‘Hi,' she greeted him.

He nearly jumped out of his seat. ‘You gave me a fright,' he said hotly, his face red and flushed. Heather was taken aback by his response.

‘Sorry,' she apologized. ‘Who's the email from?'

‘Aw, just a fellow in Dublin. I told you Douglas Kennedy wants a four-wheel-drive. He's looking after it for me.' He closed his emails and turned to look at her. ‘How did the practice go?'

‘Good,' she said cheerfully. ‘It's nearly nine, why don't you close up and I'll make us some supper?'

‘Sounds good to me. Any chance of cheese on toast?' he asked hopefully.

‘Every chance,' Heather assured him. She was feeling peckish herself after her practice.

‘Do you want to have our dinner in the Slieve Russell this Saturday?' he asked a while later as she made their supper.

She made a face. ‘Can't this Saturday. We'll either be celebrating a win over Mary's or drowning our sorrows.'

‘Oh, I forgot about the match. How about the following Saturday?'

‘Sounds good to me.' She gave him a cuddle.

‘I might have to go to a sales conference in the UK some time in April,' he said diffidently. ‘No wives or partners unfortunately. Will you hold the fort here?'

‘Sure,' Heather agreed.

‘I might go over early and visit a few showrooms, get some ideas, talk to people. Might go from Thursday to Sunday.'

‘Good idea,' she said enthusiastically. ‘Might as well make the most of it while you're there and see if they have any updated office programmes. Find out what systems other garages use.'

‘Yes, Mam.' Neil saluted and she laughed.

‘Am I too bossy?'

‘No, you're not bossy enough,' Neil said quietly and gave her a funny look.

‘Oh well, I can change that. Make the hot chocolate while you're standing there,' she ordered briskly as she sprinkled Lea & Perrin's sauce on the bubbling golden cheese.

She shouldn't have eaten that, she thought guiltily afterwards. She was doing well, she'd lost a few pounds, she wanted to keep it like that. Even running around at basketball she noticed that she was fitter and she wanted to really contribute to the match on Saturday.

It was a hard-fought match, but she scored the point that brought them level just seconds before the final whistle went and she was surrounded by cheering team-mates. It had been a bit of a fluke shot – she hadn't even taken proper aim, she admitted, but no one cared. They hadn't lost to an exceptionally good team and there was something to celebrate tonight after all.

They went for a meal in a new Italian restaurant at the far end of the town and as they sat sipping wine waiting for their main course, she felt perfectly content. This was such a good time in her life, she reflected as the waiter placed the calamari in front of her. Unfortunately, her calamari was the only blip in her good life, she acknowledged ruefully as she chewed on what seemed like warm rubber bands.

Beside her Lena prodded at her runny, greasy lasagne with distaste. ‘This is crap,' she murmured.

‘So is this,' Heather whispered. ‘Won't be coming here again.'

‘Ditto, the bloody garlic bread's cold in the middle. This is outrageous. I'm going to complain.' A heated argument ensued with the waiter, as ten disgruntled women let their feelings be known about a less than satisfactory meal.

An hour later, eschewing coffee and desserts, they made their way to the pub, vowing never to set foot in Aldo's Trattoria again. By the time they were on their third round, Aldo and his crap food were a distant memory and they were feeling no pain.

Around eleven, Heather stood up to go.

‘Where you going?' Lena demanded. ‘The night's only starting, it's not as if you have two kids to face in the morning like I have. Don't be such a party pooper.'

‘Ah well, I haven't seen much of Neil this week with all the practice,' Heather explained. Lena's face darkened. ‘Fuck him,' she said viciously.

‘Lena!'
Heather exclaimed, shocked. Norah gave Lena a tug on the arm.

‘You're pissed, Lena,' she said warningly.

‘You should tell her, Norah. It's not fair,' Lena said indignantly.

‘Tell me what?' Heather demanded, suddenly feeling sick as she remembered the argument she'd overheard between her friends the previous week. Silence descended on their table and nine faces turned to look at her with various expressions of concern and embarrassment mirrored on their faces.

‘Tell me what,' Heather said quietly. ‘Please. I want to know what's going on?'

Norah took a deep breath. ‘Come outside with me if you really want to know.'

‘OK,' Heather agreed, totally sober by now.

‘I'm sorry,' muttered Lena. ‘I just think—'

‘That's enough, Lena,' Norah interrupted.

Heather followed her captain through the crowded pub until they came to the front door. ‘Come on. Let's sit on the seat over there,' Norah suggested making her way to a wrought-iron seat outside Carleton Auctioneers.

‘Just tell me what you have to tell me,' Heather said quickly, sitting down on the cold, hard iron.

‘You know my boyfriend Dan's a night porter in the Lake View?'

Heather nodded, wondering what on earth Dan Leland had to do with her.

‘Well, he told me that Neil spent the night of his bash with Lorna Morgan in a mini suite and she didn't leave until after seven the next morning. She gave him thirty Euros for the room. I'm sorry, Heather. I didn't know what to do. Lena felt very strongly that it was only fair to tell you. She felt you'd want to know. I wasn't sure,' she admitted honestly.

Heather hardly heard her. Neil and Lorna. It couldn't be true. He couldn't do that to her. Lorna couldn't do that to her. Could they? She felt frightened. Her face crumpled. Tears spurted down her cheeks as she gave a low howl. ‘Noooo, no, no, it can't be,' she cried as Norah patted her awkwardly on the back and kept apologizing.

‘Let me walk you home to your parents,' she offered kindly.

‘No, no, I want to be by myself. I need to be by myself,' Heather said wildly. ‘I have to go.'

‘But where? You won't do anything foolish?' Norah said anxiously. ‘Let me go with you.'

With a superhuman effort, Heather composed herself. ‘It's OK, Norah, go back to the girls. I'm not going to do anything silly, I just need to be by myself for a while.' She stood up. ‘Thanks for telling me,' she said quietly. ‘I know it was hard.'

‘Lena wasn't being malicious. You know that,' Norah said miserably.

‘Of course I do. Lena's got a big heart. I can see where she's coming from.' Heather wiped her eyes. ‘Better to know now than to go on making a fool of myself.'

‘I'm really sorry, Heather. That Lorna Morgan is a bitch,' Norah swore.

‘And Neil Brennan's a bastard,' Heather added quietly as she walked purposefully towards the garage.

The light was on in the flat, so he was there, she thought with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She took out the keys of the showrooms and let herself in quietly, switching off the alarm. She didn't switch on the lights. The small light on Neil's desk would do fine. She flicked on the computer and went to email, scrolling down through them with a racing heart. Nothing in the ‘in' box. She went to deleted emails and scrolled down through them. Neil was so lazy and so computer illiterate that he rarely deleted completely and it was often left to her to delete forty or fifty emails at one sitting.

She came to the one she was looking for.

Lorna Morgan as brazen as anything on the screen. Subject. N.Y. She opened it, feeling more angry than she'd ever felt in her life.

Hi, Neil,

Just a quickie, although not as satisfying as our quickie ha ha. You've got to get over here, you'd love it. Tell Heather you're going away on business and I'll book us into a fantastic hotel for a weekend. Rates very reasonable, I'll allow you to treat me. Believe it or not, I miss you. Loved what you did to me that night in the Lake View. Email me back!

Lorna

Sick to her stomach, Heather opened his reply.

Hi gorgeous,

wish I was having a quickie with you now, I feel horny just at the thought of it, you wild sexy woman, who's too much woman for Kilronan. Will definitely try and arrange that weekend, and of course I'll treat you, if you're verrrry good to me, wish I was inside you right now. Make sure it's a good strong king-size bed!

Neil

‘Oh my God,' she whispered. ‘Oh God. Why? Why have you done this to me? Why have they done it? What am I going to do?' She sat there in shock, wounded to her core. She clicked on the print icon and watched as the laser printer slowly eased out the distasteful document.

Switching off the computer and the light, she set the alarm and locked up after her. He wouldn't be able to deny this, not when she handed him the printout. How could she have been so wrong about him? So completely and utterly wrong. Lorna's behaviour didn't come as a total shock, although Heather had huge difficulty accepting that she would betray her like she had. They were cousins. They'd been so-called friends all their lives. What a fool she'd been. Lorna had never been her friend. She was a total user. It was clear she felt no loyalty, nothing, for Heather. She was the pits. The lowest of the low.

Neil was asleep in the chair when she walked into the sitting-room, several empty cans at his feet. Silently, she stared at him and felt hatred erupt inside her.

‘I hate you, you gutless bastard,' she swore viciously as she kicked him hard on the shins.

‘What the fuck— Heather! What the hell did you do that for?' he demanded, puzzled and dazed.

‘So you're going to a sales conference in the UK are you? Aren't I the fool?' she yelled. ‘I know all about you and that slutty cousin of mine. I know all about your night in the mini suite in the Lake View. So you wish you were inside her and you're all horny, are you? You fucking wanker, Neil Brennan!' She shoved the printout under his nose.

‘You get out of here right now. I'm going to pack my stuff and I'll collect it tomorrow and I never want to see you again. Get out, you bastard, you're welcome to her and she's welcome to you. You were made for each other.' She whacked him hard across the face, wanting to rake her nails down his cheeks.

Neil pushed her away from him.

‘Don't do that!' he warned.

‘Why, what will you do? Hit me?' she taunted. ‘Get out, Neil, before I get really mad and do something I'll regret. Get out,' she yelled, shoving him out of the door. He went, saying nothing. He didn't try to defend himself because he couldn't and as she closed the door behind him she sank to her knees sobbing, knowing that she'd never trust another man as long as she lived.

29

‘I'm sorry it's not better news, Oliver, but you and your wife can attend the fertility clinic in the Rotunda. Maybe you'd be suitable for IVF. It is possible for men suffering from azoospermia to have small amounts of sperm harvested—'

‘No, Doctor,' Oliver interrupted, his face taut and grim. ‘I don't want to go down that road. I don't think my wife could cope if it didn't work.'

‘Well, look, Oliver, both of you can come back and see me if you change your mind, you know where I am.' Miles Lawson patted Oliver on the back and shook hands with him.

‘Thanks for all your help, Doctor, I appreciate it,' Oliver replied, managing a small smile. Miles Lawson had been kind, helpful and sympathetic as Oliver had been called back for more tests, explaining as simply as he could about sperm count, morphology, motility and the like as Oliver struggled to come to terms with the fact that he was very unlikely to father a child.

As he sat into the car and drove towards the Phoenix Park, he felt a lump rise in his throat. He'd never thought much about having children. He felt awkward around them, but he'd assumed he and Noreen would have them eventually and that he'd do his best to be a good father.

To be told that this was unlikely was like being kicked in the stomach, hard. He felt a complete failure. Half a man. He might be able to do the business, but in terms of providing for Noreen's need for a baby, he'd failed her and he was dreading telling her. Life was bad enough now, how would they be when she found out that the infertility was his fault? She'd probably start putting him under pressure to have that harvesting thing done and go for IVF and he just couldn't face it. If it failed, she'd be devastated.

He turned left off the roundabout opposite the American ambassador's residence and drove down the narrow tree-lined road to where the Visitor's Centre nestled among the trees. He needed a cup of tea. He had the mother and father of a headache, something he rarely suffered from. He felt so tense that he almost jumped when his mobile phone rang.

He was surprised to see Noreen's number come up. They rarely rang each other these days unless for a specific reason. ‘Hello?' he tried to keep his voice as normal as he could.

‘Oliver, Maura's gone into labour early, so I'm driving up to Holles Street with her. I don't know how long I'll be. There's steak and chops in the fridge if you want to—'

‘Don't worry about me, Noreen. I can have a pub lunch or something. Tell Maura good luck, keep in touch,' he said heavily.

The irony of it all. There were times he felt God had a most peculiar sense of humour. There was Maura about to give birth, the very day he found out he couldn't give his wife a baby. He'd better hold off a few days before telling Noreen. It was going to be even more difficult now for her. Holding a little baby in her arms always put the longing on her. What would seeing Maura's child born do to her?