Every Time We Say Goodbye (11 page)

Marianne sighed. She knew that Helen meant well and was only trying to help but wasn’t she entitled to feel a little bit sorry for herself at the moment? ‘Yeah, I’m sure you’re right; now I really need to get some rest.’

Helen looked shamefaced. ‘Oh, God, I’m badgering you, aren’t I? Johnny warned me not to.’

Marianne couldn’t help laughing. ‘Everything you say is true, but tonight I’m just not capable of being the optimist you want me to be.’

Helen hugged her. ‘You can give me a smack if you want to.’

‘Nah, don’t have the energy.’

‘Get to bed, pet.’ Helen hugged her once more and stood up. ‘Oh, just one last thing: Johnny wanted to know if the house is in both your names.’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Well, apparently when a businessman is on the verge of bankruptcy, it’s not that uncommon for him to change the deeds of his house into his wife’s name so it can’t be touched. Johnny and I thought that if Dominic was on the fiddle he might think along the same lines.’

‘I suppose that makes sense, but if he did change it he never told me.’

‘You’d have had to sign something.’

‘Then it must still be in both our names.’

‘I’ll tell Johnny.’ Helen led the way out towards the hall door. ‘You know, I do think you’re doing the right thing moving, Marianne,’ she said, turning to look at her friend. ‘The kids can easily take the train or bus to school.’

Marianne clasped her arms tight around herself and shook her head. ‘They’ll be moving to the local school, Helen; I can’t afford school fees any more.’

For the first time, Helen looked truly shocked. ‘Oh, of course, sorry, I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘Like you say, it will be fine,’ Marianne lied, suddenly feeling very alone.

Helen looked at her with sad, worried eyes and kissed her cheek. ‘Go to bed, pet; everything will look better in the morning.’

‘Let’s face it,’ Marianne smiled, ‘it can’t look much worse.’

Chapter Nine

Rob Lee threw his jacket in a corner, switched on his laptop and hit the button on the answering machine. He scanned his mail as he listened to two messages from clients with problems that would result in him working late again, another from his sister reminding him that there was a family lunch in her house on Sunday – he groaned at the thought – but it was the last message that really caught his attention.

‘Rob, hi, Johnny Sheridan here. Listen, I have the perfect house for you; the owner is a good friend of mine and looking to rent it out. Give me a call when you get a chance and I’ll fill you in on the details.’

‘Excellent!’ Rob rubbed his hands together and went out to the galley kitchen to make a coffee.

He had first met Johnny when he’d installed a computer system for him nearly three years ago. It was shortly after he’d started his own business and meeting Johnny had been a blessing. He’d sent plenty of other builders and tradesmen to him and Rob hadn’t looked back. It was also Johnny who’d pointed out the need for a reliable property website and Rob had taken his advice. The venture had been an overnight success and he’d made a killing when he sold the website only months before the property market crashed. Finally in a position to build a home of his own, he’d turned to Johnny; well, who else? Together they had searched for the perfect site and Johnny had recommended Rus Bowen, a talented and imaginative architect, to design the house. Once the planning came through, he would be able to build his dream home. When he’d said he would like to rent a place near the site where he could both live and work, Johnny had immediately offered to find him a place and Rob was happy to let him. A true entrepreneur, Johnny had survived the crash and seemed to be doing well for himself once more. Rob wasn’t surprised; if ever there was a man who was made to bounce, it was Johnny.

Armed with a large mug of strong coffee and a couple of chocolate bars that would suffice as dinner, Rob returned to his desk in the corner of his drab and joyless living room and picked up the phone. Johnny answered on the second ring.

‘Hey, Johnny, it’s Rob.’

‘Rob! How are you doing?’

‘Great, thanks. You have news for me?’

‘I do indeed, sir, good news. Well . . .’ he added in more sombre tones, ‘good for you anyway. I have a friend who needs to rent her house. It’s a lovely place, only about eight years old, has exactly the kind of space you were looking for and is in very good condition. And,’ he added, ‘it’s less than a mile from the site.’

‘Excellent. When can I move in?’

Johnny laughed. ‘Don’t you want to see it before you make your mind up?’

‘I trust you.’ Rob looked around the cramped room. The only saving grace of this flat, apart from its location in the heart of Dublin, was the large bay window. The busy street below presented him with such a wonderful tapestry of life each day that he rarely bothered switching on the TV set in the corner.

‘The bad news is it won’t be available for a couple of months, but with the way the planning office drags its heels, we’ll be lucky to be breaking earth by then. This house is worth the wait.’

Rob sighed. ‘Okay, then. Why don’t you set up a viewing and we’ll take it from there?’

‘Excellent, I’ll do that.’

‘What’s the landlady’s name?’ he asked, picking up a pen.

‘Marianne Thomson.’

Rob dropped his pen as Marianne’s lovely face swam before his eyes.

‘I’ll give her a call and get back to you during the week,’ Johnny continued. ‘Rob? Are you there?’

‘Yeah, I’m here. That’s fine, Johnny, appreciate it, take care.’

Rob put the phone down and stared out of the window, for once not even seeing the bustling beauty of the city.
Marianne
. He went back in his mind over Johnny’s words; he hadn’t mentioned Dominic at all. In fact he had specifically said ‘she’; had she finally left that asshole? He couldn’t help feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of her being single, of seeing her beautiful face again and that gorgeous body. He wondered if she knew that he was her potential tenant and, if so, was she as excited as he was? He wished now that he’d asked Johnny more questions and was sorely tempted to phone him back, but he couldn’t think of any legitimate reason for doing so. Frustrated, he realized that he’d just have to bide his time. His coffee grew cold as he sat back in his chair, put his feet up on the cluttered desk and remembered the first time he’d seen Marianne.

His firm had been hired to install a computer system in Treacy Travel, where Marianne worked. Rob was assigned to lead and co-ordinate the project. It had been quite a task; they were using antiquated systems and the small group of staff were resistant to change. Marianne had been the only one excited by the initiative and eager to learn, and Rob had been only too happy to teach her. He’d fancied her straight away. She was a good-looking woman but it was her eyes that had mesmerized him. He could still remember the disappointment he’d felt when he’d looked down and seen the plain gold band on her left hand.

Tom Treacy, Marianne’s boss, had made her the project manager and as a result Rob had ended up working with her on an almost daily basis. She was smart, picked things up quickly and was fun to work with, although he remembered that at times she could be quite withdrawn. He’d wondered occasionally if she had health problems as some days she’d arrive looking tired and wan, say she had paperwork to attend to and shut herself in her office. He was fascinated by everything about her in a way that he’d never been before; he was falling in love with a married woman. But whether it had just been wishful thinking, even back then he’d wondered about that marriage. There were photos of her two children on her desk and her walls were covered with her daughter’s artwork, but there was no photo of her husband. Rob had overheard some of their calls and they were stilted and Marianne seemed to stiffen when she heard her husband’s voice. He’d only met him once. Dominic had come to collect her and Rob had disliked the proprietorial way he’d slid his arm around her waist and noticed too how uncomfortable she’d appeared with it.

Rob figured she knew that he fancied her; she might be married and beyond his reach but he couldn’t resist in indulging in some harmless flirting. Then one evening on his way home from the cinema, he’d dropped into the office to check on a job he’d left running and found her slumped at her desk with her head on her arms, crying as if her heart would break. He’d sat on the desk and put an arm around her shaking shoulders and when she’d calmed down he’d made her a mug of strong, sweet tea. He stood over her as she drank it with shaking hands, but she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong, dismissing it as something silly. She hadn’t been remotely convincing, but he knew better than to pursue the matter. At the end of the day he was only a work colleague although he felt they’d moved beyond that. He was afraid to overstep the mark. It was only when he was lying in bed later thinking about the episode, he’d realized that the expression on her face, the one he hadn’t been quite able to fathom, had been fear.

From then on Rob grew more watchful, looking for signs of distress. One day, when there was a group of them standing around the coffee machine laughing, it had struck him that, despite her smile, there was sadness in her eyes. He needed to know the reason and he longed to be the one to take that sorrow away. He wanted to be the one to make her smile with her eyes as well as her mouth. Aware that he was becoming almost obsessive, Rob went on a series of unsuccessful dates but he only ever ended up comparing the women to Marianne and none came close to making him feel the way she did. With the last girl, a curvaceous, bubbly blonde who had a very sexy smile, he’d found himself staring at the various parts of her body while she talked and wondering why he wasn’t remotely turned on. A couple of months later, all the staff at Treacy Travel were going for a meal and a few drinks to celebrate someone’s thirtieth birthday. He’d had to pass up on it as he’d already agreed to go to a movie with the blonde. He was furious at missing an opportunity to socialize with Marianne; she so rarely joined them for a drink. When he’d broken the news of his date to her, his heart had soared at the obvious disappointment on her face. He remembered nothing about that movie and whenever the blonde had leaned against him, put a hand on his thigh or whispered in his ear, he’d instinctively moved away. When they emerged and she’d suggested he come back to her place, he’d told her he had a headache and went straight to the pub where the birthday party was being held. It was after ten and he expected Marianne to be long gone. But she was still there, obviously a little tipsy, and he had immediately drawn up a stool next to hers. There was much teasing from the gang about his date and he batted the comments away with ease, all the while enjoying the feel of Marianne’s bare arm brushing against his. She was a tactile person and more so with alcohol inside her. When she was making a point she would press his hand or touch his arm; he was in heaven. He was probably on his third pint when he turned his head to find her studying him.

‘Is she pretty?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘Yes.’ He watched her face fall. ‘But not as pretty as you.’

She smiled and then looked away, embarrassed. ‘I should go.’

‘I’ll walk you to the taxi rank.’

Outside she had swayed a little and he’d taken her arm to steady her.

‘I don’t feel very well,’ she admitted.

‘Do you want to walk for a while? Some fresh air might help.’

She nodded and they had wandered in companionable silence through the cobbled streets of Temple Bar. Finally he asked the question he’d wanted to know the answer to for weeks. ‘Why were you crying that night?’

She said nothing for a moment and neither did he. He willed her to answer, to open up to him.

‘I had a row with my husband,’ she’d said, finally.

‘And is everything okay now?’ he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

‘No,’ Marianne replied sadly.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

They had reached an archway and she stopped underneath, rested against the wall and turned her face up to his.

‘No, Rob, I don’t want to talk.’

She was definitely a little bit drunk and he probably shouldn’t have taken advantage, but he couldn’t resist kissing her. Her lips were sweeter than he’d imagined and her mouth tasted of wine. When he felt her hands go round his neck, he pulled her tight against him and almost groaned at the feel of her lovely body against his. Their kisses grew more passionate and fervent; they were like a couple of teenagers. When he slid his hand inside her blouse and touched one full, soft breast he’d expected her to pull away but instead she’d made a noise deep in her throat and he could feel her nipple harden against his palm. It had taken all of his willpower to pull away from her and lead her towards a taxi rank. If he was ever going to have sex with this woman it would not be in the street when she was drunk.

He jumped as the phone rang again, bringing him back to the present. ‘Rob Lee. Of course, Mr McGrath, what can I do for you?’

‘Thanks, Johnny.’ Marianne put the phone down and sank into a chair.

Could it really be the same Rob Lee? Was it possible? She felt a twinge in her stomach but it was nothing like the other spasms she had been experiencing lately. Instead it was a delicious warmth accompanied by memories of the most special time in her life; the time when Rob Lee had been her lover.

She hadn’t set out to be unfaithful although she figured anyone would forgive her given Dominic’s behaviour. By the time she succumbed to Rob’s kind, smiling eyes, her husband had gone way beyond reason and bared little resemblance to the man she’d married. She never knew at the end of the day which husband was going to walk through the door: the terrifying tyrant or the happy, horny husband; the doting dad or petrifying parent. Every day was a lottery. If it hadn’t been for Rob she’d have gone out of her mind. She wouldn’t tell him what was going on; Jo and Helen were the only ones she confided in and even they weren’t aware of how bad things had become. She would have liked to tell Rob but it would have crossed a line that she somehow knew would change everything.