Divided Loyalties (39 page)

‘Why wouldn’t he stay with your father? Especially if the poor man’s on crutches?’ Della quizzed. ‘He must find it hard to manage.’

‘Well we
will
be spending a lot of time in Whiteshells Bay so I’ll be toing and froing.’ Shauna’s voice had an edge to it and Della knew she was getting the
brush-off.

‘You’re always so hard to pin down, Shauna,’ she said acidly. ‘It’s just a cup of coffee I’m talking about, not a black tie dinner.’ She couldn’t
contain herself.

‘Look, Della, I’m only home, Dad’s had an accident, I’m having a visitor, but I’m here for three months so we’ll sort something, OK? There’s no
rush,’ Shauna retorted acerbically.

‘Sure, whatever you say. Tell your father I was asking for him and Bobby too. It’s years since I’ve seen him. The Christmas before you went to Abu Dhabi, actually.’ Della
rowed back. She didn’t want her sister-in-law to get into a snit. She wanted a couple of weekends up in Dublin, with Filomena waiting on her hand and foot, and minding the children to boot.
Weekends in Shauna and Greg’s meant no cooking, washing or cleaning. She’d managed to have three good ones last summer.

‘I’ll let you go, and I’ll be in touch. Good to talk to you.’ She injected a bright, breezy note into her tone, despite the fact that she was seriously pissed off with
her sister-in-law.

‘Thanks for calling,’ Shauna said politely and hung up. Della stared at the phone, disgusted. What a snooty cow Shauna had become over the years. When she’d first known her
she’d been friendly and welcoming, but over the last couple of years in particular Della had become aware of an edge of tension between them that was certainly not of her making. Shauna was
always making excuses not to have them stay over when she and the children went to visit them in Malahide. And even out in the Gulf Shauna was leaving them to their own devices rather a lot. Della
had noticed that particularly during their last trip at Christmas. Shauna had gone off to her various classes and clubs and coffee mornings and hardly included her at all.

‘Leave those flowers alone,’ she screeched at Ashley, who was now pulling the petals off her roses. Rage bubbled inside her. How dare Shauna McCarthy make her feel like a nuisance?
How
dare
she! She was a nothing before she married Greg. A McCarthy from some little hole called Whiteshells Bay. And that Carrie one was as bad. She hadn’t even bothered her ass to
get her the few things she’d asked for when she was out in the Gulf at Easter. That pair really had notions about themselves, Della fumed. It was because of
her
brother’s money
that Madam Shauna was where she was today. It was because of marrying into the Cassidy family and raising her social status that she now felt she could turn up her nose at Della and treat her like
a country bumpkin.
Big
mistake! There was only so much crap a woman could take from her in-laws. And she had taken more than enough. One of these days Della was going to tell Shauna
McCarthy Cassidy
exactly
what she thought of her.

‘You’d better put a few hot water bottles in that bed to air it when you’ve changed the sheets,’ Noel said. ‘And put a few clean towels on the end
of it. He’s always showering and washing.’

‘Yes, Dad, now would you excuse me, you’re in my way,’ Carrie said tightly, trying to contain her exasperation. Now that Bobby was coming to stay with their father, Noel had
her running around like a lunatic, changing beds, shopping for meals and cleaning and hoovering. She was knackered and annoyed. It wouldn’t have killed Shauna to come over for an hour or two
to help out. After all, Bobby was supposed to be staying with
her
, she thought resentfully.

Noel was like a cat on a hot tin roof and the more agitated he got the more demands he made on her. She was at her wit’s end. Now he hobbled out of the room on his crutches. At least
he’d got the hang of them. The first day he was on them he’d kept tripping over them.

Her mobile rang. It was Shauna.

‘Hi,’ her sister said breezily. ‘Are you going to come to the airport with me to collect Bobby tomorrow?’

‘No, Shauna, I’m not going to be able to make it,’ Carrie said testily.

‘Oh! What’s up? You don’t sound in great form.’

‘I’m not. I’ve taken an hour off to come over to Dad’s to change the bed for Bobby and he wants me to dust and hoover not to mention doing the shopping. You’d think
it was the Queen that was coming to stay.’

‘Well you wouldn’t be too far wrong there,’ Shauna quipped.

Carrie giggled in spite of herself. ‘Very funny, smartass.’

‘You change the bed and leave the hoovering, I’ll come over and do that,’ Shauna offered.

‘No, I’ll do it.’ Carrie sighed.

‘Stop acting the martyr, I’ll be over in an hour,’ Shauna said briskly. ‘See you.’ She hung up.

‘That’s a relief,’ Carrie muttered, not feeling quite as harassed, as she struggled to fit a clean cover over the duvet. And she
wasn’t
acting the martyr, she
thought crossly. Or was she? She grimaced as she slid a pillowcase onto the pillow.
Was
she adopting the martyr role? She’d need to nip that in the bud, she decided, but she did feel
hard done by sometimes. After all, she was the only one living at home and she was the one who took care of their father in his hour of need. And his hours of need were becoming more frequent. She
sighed. Maybe she just wasn’t good at coping. Other women seemed to juggle far better than she did. A woman in the village had her mother who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease
living with her,
and
she had three teenagers to cope with. ‘Get over yourself,’ she muttered as she placed two towels neatly on the end of the bed.

‘Dad, Shauna’s going to dust and hoover; I’ve got to get back to work,’ she said five minutes later once the bedroom was sorted.

‘Have a cup of tea before you go,’ he invited, leaning on his crutch.

‘No, Dad, I’m in a rush. I’m supposed to be at work,’ she explained.

‘I think you’ve taken on too much with that caravan park,’ Noel grumbled. ‘You hardly have time to talk to me these days. Sit down and have a cup of tea with me. It
won’t take a minute.’

Guilt smote her. Her father was right. She hardly had time to bless herself these days, let alone sit and chat to him. Noel wasn’t the only one who was neglected. Poor Dan was getting a
droopy vegetable sitting beside him on the sofa in the evenings. Once she’d made the school lunches, prepared the meal for the following day and ironed only what had to be ironed, she’d
sit beside him on the sofa yawning her head off. Having a job outside the home was far from easy, she was beginning to realize. But she had to admit she enjoyed the challenge of it. She’d
settle into it in time.

‘A quick cuppa then.’ She relented. ‘I’ll make it.’

‘No, you sit down and relax.
I’ll
make it. You look tired,’ Noel insisted, hobbling to the sink. ‘It’s the least I can do for you.’

Her heart sank. She would have been quicker doing it herself but it would have made her father feel bad. He still looked a little shaken after his accident. She knew his foot was very painful.
It was all the colours of the rainbow, much to his grandchildren’s fascination. They charted its progress every day, noting the changing colours of purple and red, yellow and blue with
ghoulish curiosity.

They’d told Shauna at the hospital that there was nothing you could do for broken toes and that they would just heal themselves. But he wasn’t able to drive, or come up to her for
his dinner, so she was doing the meals on wheels run again and it was time-consuming. And time was something she seemed to have precious little of lately.

She sat on her hands and took a few deep breaths. If she was this whacked and harassed in June, what was it going to be like in July and August when the site was full and buzzing? Maybe she
didn’t have what it took to be a businesswoman, she thought gloomily. Ruth Conroy, a friend of hers who owned Seashells, the café on the main street, and had two children, never seemed
fazed by the demands made on her and she was the epitome of elegance at all times. Carrie sighed deeply. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a cream top and was far from elegant right at this
moment. Hannah had given her a big soppy hug earlier, straight after eating a carton of strawberry yoghurt. Carrie had a yoghurt stain on her right shoulder and a tomato ketchup stain on her jeans.
Far, far from elegant, she thought with a wry grin. She felt she was juggling dozens of balls and that they were all going to fall down and whack her on the head.

At least Bobby was going to be here for a few days. That would take the pressure off her for a while. She knew he wasn’t over the moon about the idea of staying with Noel. He’d have
preferred to come and go as it suited him. And he’d be a lot more comfortable in Shauna’s guest room.

Tough!
She gave a little shrug. Whether he liked it or not, Bobby was part of the family and all that it entailed. It was time he took on some of the responsibilities that came with
it.

‘Don’t tell me you’re heading out. I’ve hardly seen you.’ Sylvia Lyons, one of Shauna’s neighbours, pouted as she stood at the front
door.

‘Sorry, Sylvia. Dad had an accident and Bobby’s coming to stay so I’m shooting over to Whiteshells Bay to give Carrie a hand.’

‘Oh dear. Nothing serious, I hope.’

‘Broken toes, bad bruising. Painful, awkward, but not serious,’ Shauna assured her.

‘So when are we going to have time for a gossip? I met Alice yesterday and she tells me you’re organizing the lunch. I’m looking forward to it. She said you’re having it
before she goes away.’ Sylvia arched an eyebrow at her.

‘Did she now?’ Shauna said tightly. ‘She door-stepped me the other day to tell me about her Caribbean cruise. She’s such hard going, Sylvia. To tell you the truth,
I’m sorely tempted to have it when she’s away.’

‘Good thinking,’ her neighbour approved. ‘She’s
so
rude, you know.’ Sylvia ran her fingers through her mane of blond hair, hooked her thumbs into her jeans
and leaned against the porch, all ready for a gossip. ‘Paula Weldon had a lunch about a month ago and she had a delicious lamb dish that she served with baby potatoes. And Alice turned round
and said to Jill Conroy, “I
hate
those baby potatoes.” I’m sure Paula heard her. Jill was mortified.’

‘I bet. Typical Alice. Do you know when she’s going away?’ Shauna probed.

‘The last week in June. I think.’ Sylvia furrowed her brow trying to remember exactly when their neighbour was heading off.

‘I’m waiting until she’s gone. The last thing I need is pain-in-the-ass Alice rabbiting on about her holiday. Look, why don’t you come in tonight and we’ll open a
bottle of wine and catch up?’ she invited. ‘I have to get going, Carrie’s waiting on me,’ she added hastily, noting that Chloe was starting to look fed up in the back seat
of the car.

‘Terrific. I’ll enjoy that. I could do with a bit of diversion,’ Sylvia agreed.

‘Right. I’ll see you later.’ Shauna pulled the door closed and got into the car and reversed out the drive.

Honestly, her neighbours were gas, she thought with wry amusement. Sylvia had just said
she
needed a bit of diversion. Alice was going round talking about the lunch as if it was a
given. It would be nice for a change if one of them organized a lunch for
her
.

Shauna frowned. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She just wasn’t in the humour for socializing. She’d done so much of it the past year. She wanted a bit of space. Maybe
she was starting the change early or something; she’d read about women having it in their late thirties.

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’ she muttered as she slowed down to allow Orla Jenkins to pass by in her Saab. Orla stopped and rolled down her window.

‘Welcome home, Shauna. You look fantastic. How’s life?’

‘Great, Orla. How are you?’

‘Oh, don’t talk. I’ve had a terrible year. Denis and I are having problems. We’re going to counselling. He had an affair,’ she confided morosely.

‘Oh! I’m sorry to hear that,’ Shauna murmured.

‘Why don’t I pop over for coffee in the morning? I’ll tell you all about it then. You can advise me.’ Orla brightened up.

‘Actually, I’ve got Bobby coming tomorrow and we’ll be going to Whiteshells Bay. I’ll catch up with you one of the days,’ Shauna said, relieved beyond measure that
she had Bobby as an excuse. Listening to Orla Jenkins moaning was not for the faint-hearted. She thrived on drama and angst. It was her life’s blood.

‘Oh! OK then.’ Orla was deflated. She was longing to tell Shauna of Denis’s callous betrayal and bask in the sympathy that her friend would offer. ‘See you
whenever.’ She drove past and Shauna headed out of their cul-de-sac.

‘I can’t wait to see Uncle Bobby,’ Chloe piped up from the back seat. ‘I’m glad we’re collecting him ’cos I bet Olivia and Davey wishes that they
were.’

‘Don’t be like that, Chloe,’ Shauna chided, wishing Chloe wasn’t so prone to triumphalism. It probably stemmed from being an only child and maybe from the fact that she
felt she wasn’t getting as much parental attention as her cousins did. Daggers of guilt pierced her heart in a thousand cuts. Chloe was left in Filomena’s care more than she should be,
Shauna acknowledged, and as far as Greg was concerned, there were days when he never saw their child. He’d be gone to work before she was up and often she’d be in bed when he got home
if he had a function or business do to attend.

She was glad she was going to Whiteshells Bay for the afternoon. At least Chloe would have her cousins to play with. She’d sat on the low front wall earlier, watching other young children
playing together, but not invited to join in, and not brave enough to push herself forward. Shauna’s heart stung as she watched her timid daughter.
Go on
, she urged silently.
Be
brave.
But Chloe had just sat watching forlornly until Shauna could stand it no longer and had called her in and asked her if she would like to watch a video. This summer she was going to
devote a lot of time to her daughter, she vowed, as she picked up speed and headed northwards.