Two For Joy (15 page)

‘I met Lily Cleary at Mass last week, she was telling me that Mrs Nolan is going into a nursing home. Very sad. No one to look after her. Son in Australia and he wouldn't even bother to come home and see her,' Cora remarked as she helped herself to an undoilied biscuit.

‘Aren't you lucky to have me?' Oliver said, straight-faced.

‘I should think you
would
look after me in my old age. It's a child's duty to look after their parents.' Cora sniffed. ‘And speaking of children,' she turned to Noreen, ‘I believe your sister is looking forward to a happy event, according to Lily. ‘Don't you think it's time you started thinking in that direction yourself? You're not getting any younger you know,' she said forthrightly. ‘You modern women and your family planning. In our day we took what the Lord sent when he felt disposed to.'

Noreen felt like slapping her mother-in-law's sharp, unfriendly face. ‘As you say, Mrs Flynn, a child is God's gift and I look forward to receiving His gift as and when He sees fit,' she responded coldly. She turned to Oliver. ‘I'm going to head off now, Oliver, I'll see you when you get home.' She stood up and walked out of the room without a glance at Cora. She was tempted to slam the front door but she didn't want to give her mother-in-law the satisfaction of knowing how much she'd got to her.

How dare she!
she seethed as she got into the car and started the ignition. Cora was an interfering, judgemental old bitch who didn't deserve a son like Oliver. ‘Snooty, pretentious fucking old cow with her fucking paper doilies,' Noreen cursed as she drove on to the winding road that led to the town. Tears came to her eyes. That snide remark about family planning hurt. Didn't any of them realize just how
badly
she wanted a child? She knew she was getting on. She was well aware of a lessening in fertility and all the rest of the medical stuff. She
was
a nurse for God's sake! She didn't need a fucking lecture from an ignoramus like Cora Flynn. Sobbing her heart out, Noreen drove home. She didn't care who saw her. She didn't even bother switching on the lights when she got home, she just went straight to bed.

*   *   *

Oliver gathered the cups and saucers together with more force than was necessary and turned to face his mother. His blue eyes were flints of ice. ‘Mam, I won't say this again. Don't you
ever
bring up the subject of children in front of Noreen again. It's none of your business for one and your crack about family planning is way out of line. We've been trying for a baby for over a year if you must know, and you and your smart comments don't help!' He was so angry he felt like flinging the cups into the fire. He marched out to the kitchen leaving his mother speechless. He rarely lost his temper but when he did, Cora knew better than to argue with him. Oliver rinsed the cups under the tap. He was like a bull. Of all the damn fool stupid things to say to Noreen of all people. Now she'd be way down in the dumps and she'd be wanting sex morning noon and night and then she'd be in floods of tears when her period arrived.

He groaned. If only she could get pregnant, life would be a whole lot better. The pressure would be off. She'd have a child to look after, that would make her happy, and he'd be glad for her. It was frustrating knowing that she wasn't content in their marriage. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, he thought dispiritedly as he dried the cups. He knew now that when she turned to him at night it wasn't because she wanted intimacy and sex, her main objective was to become pregnant. Sometimes when he was knackered and didn't feel like doing it, it would be nice to say, can we wait until tomorrow, or whatever, but he didn't feel he could refuse her in case it was her optimum time for conception. Sex was no fun any more, it was a bloody chore, he thought tiredly as he shrugged into his jacket.

‘Goodnight, Ma!' He poked his head around the door. Cora ignored him, her lips a thin line of anger, her beady little eyes like two black olives.

‘Great!' he muttered as he closed the front door behind him. His mother in a huff, his wife in the pits. Life right now was one big pain in the butt. He'd a good mind to go to the pub and get mouldy drunk. For a moment he was tempted, but the memory of Noreen's big brown eyes, hurt and pained, got to him and he knew he couldn't do it. He was her husband, she needed his support. He gunned the engine and headed for home.

He wasn't good at this emotional stuff. When he had problems he kept them to himself. He wasn't used to women's angst, it made him extremely uncomfortable. Marriage certainly wasn't a bed of blinkin' roses, he scowled, as he overtook a blue van.

Noreen was in bed when he got home.

‘What are you doing in bed?' he asked offhandedly, making no reference to Cora or what had happened.

‘I felt like it,' Noreen said sullenly.

‘Come on, Noreen, get up and come downstairs. You can't live your life in bed, you know.' He tried to encourage her.

‘Ah, I'm pissed off.' She gave a sigh that came from her toes.

‘Look, you know what Ma's like. You know better than to let her get to you.'

‘Well, she's just so bloody mean-spirited and judgemental. She hasn't a clue. And I'm sick of her,' Noreen exploded.

‘I know, Noreen, just forget it. It's not worth getting into a state over,' Oliver said wearily, trying to hide a yawn.

‘If I'm boring you, why don't you just leave me alone?' Noreen snarled, burrowing down into the bed and turning her back on him.

‘Oh, for fuck's sake!' Oliver exploded, his patience worn thin. ‘Women, you're all the same, drama, drama, drama. I've had enough. I'm going to the pub.'

‘You do that,' Noreen snapped.

Without bothering to change out of his working gear, Oliver set off for the pub in a foul humour. When he got there, he ordered his pint, took his paper out of his jacket pocket and pretended to read it. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. He nursed two pints for the evening, not wanting to drink too much; he had too much work on to be slowed down by a hangover. When he got home he had a quick shower in the big bathroom rather than the ensuite, in case Noreen might be asleep. He fervently hoped she was. He'd had enough agro and stress for one evening.

Her bedside light was out and she was right over at her own side of the bed. He slid in beside her as quietly as he could and felt her tense up. Pity she wasn't asleep, he thought, unwilling to engage in conversation. He turned on his side and lay there, willing sleep to come. Sometimes it would be nice to sleep in a bed on his own again. He thought longingly of his bachelor bed. Seconds later he was sound asleep, snoring rhythmically, much to his wife's annoyance as she twisted and turned beside him, lonely and unhappy.

*   *   *

Cora sat propped up against her pillows rubbing Vick's into her chest and sipping hot milk and pepper. It was very distressing that Oliver was angry with her. It was rare for him to speak to her with such disrespect. At least he hadn't spoken to her in such a tone in front of that wife of his. He should never have married her. A disaster from the start, but would he listen to her? Oh no!

Cora's nostrils flared as she picked up her rosary and prepared to say her prayers. If Noreen wasn't using family planning she was probably barren, Cora decided. Oliver should never have married a woman six years older than him. He should have left her an old maid on the shelf and got a nice young girl for himself. Well, he's made his bed, he'll have to lie on it, she thought crossly as she blessed herself and began to pray to the Almighty to give her strength for the crosses she had to bear. And that Noreen was the biggest cross of all. Life had been grand until she'd come on the scene to annoy her.

12

‘You'd love it out there. It's
so
happening. The boutiques, the restaurants, the marina. It's a great place to live. Come on, Lorna, we need someone else to share. It would be perfect for you. What are you doing mouldering away in Drumcondra for heaven's sake? It's so un-cool.' Carina Carmody turned from her computer and stared at Lorna, who was printing out a guest's bill. She was still trying to persuade Lorna to move into the apartment she rented in Malahide. Her flatmate had moved to New York and Carina needed someone in to pay the rent, ASAP.

‘I know, Carina. I'd love to and it would be just as handy to get to work. But what about my cousin?' Lorna gave a little helpless shrug.

‘Let her go and live with her sister. You can't be her minder for ever.' Carina was not impressed with that as an argument and waved her hand dismissively. ‘Stop making excuses. Just tell her that you're moving in with Lisa and myself and that it's handier for work. At least you won't have to drive through that awful traffic because of the Port Tunnel development. It's a gorgeous apartment, really,' Carina wheedled. ‘You're lucky to be getting this opportunity. Look, tell you what, why don't you come home with me tomorrow and stay over and see for yourself? But I'll need an answer by Sunday, we really need someone else to pay the rent and if you aren't interested I suppose we'll have to advertise. It's just much nicer to get someone you know.'

Lorna studied her perfectly manicured French-polished nails. Carina was right. She
was
mouldering in Drumcondra. She didn't want to stay living there, and she didn't particularly want to keep living with Heather, who was getting on her nerves. Her cousin had been a good stop-gap until Lorna had found her feet in Dublin, but she was too much of a stick-in-the-mud. Lorna wanted to move up the social ladder and an apartment in the very chic Malahide Marina area was a most inviting prospect. Carina was extremely sophisticated and knowledgeable and had a host of well-connected friends. She was just the type of person it would be good to hang out with.

‘Well?' Carina drawled quizzically.

Lorna took a deep breath. ‘Sounds good. I'd love to stay. I'll bring in an overnight bag tomorrow.'

‘And I need to know by Sunday if you're moving in.'

‘Fine.' Lorna busied herself at her desk. ‘No problem at all.'

But there
was
a problem, she acknowledged silently. Heather! How was she going to face her cousin and tell her that she was moving out to Malahide. Dumping her!

I'll think about it later. Lorna pushed the unwholesome thought to the back of her mind and was almost glad to see a coachload of Japanese tourists arriving for an overnight stay before flying home. For the next half hour it was all go and she was whacked by the end of her shift. She hurried across the staff car park to her red Honda Civic. There was a howling gale and the rain whipped into her face. What a stinker of a night; she was looking forward to getting out of her uniform and watching
Sex and the City.
She hoped Heather had taped it for her.

She could do with updating her car, she reflected as she slid in behind the wheel. If she was going to go and live in Malahide she'd need a good set of wheels to keep up the image. A five-year-old crock was not ideal. Maybe Neil Brennan, Heather's former boyfriend, might give her a good deal if she turned the charm on for him. He'd done well in the last year. A brand new chrome and glass showroom, built by Oliver Flynn, was almost completed. And his selection of cars had vastly improved. He seemed to be going for quality rather than quantity, which surprised her. She'd always thought of Neil as a hick second-hand car salesman.

Heather was watching
Frasier,
and already in her nightdress and dressing-gown. Talk about being middle-aged before your time, Lorna thought in disgust. Stuck in watching
Frasier,
drinking hot chocolate like an old woman!

‘Did you tape
Sex and the City
for me?' she demanded.

‘Yep,' murmured Heather, before laughing at one of Niles's one-liners.

‘I'm going to have a quick bath.' Lorna kicked her shoes off with relief. Sometimes when she'd been on her feet all day her ankle still tended to ache where she'd sprained it. At least she was off those damn crutches. They'd been the pits.

‘You might need to wait for a while for the water to heat up, I had a bath a little while ago,' Heather informed her as she dunked a ginger snap into her hot chocolate.

‘Aw,
Heather!
' Lorna couldn't contain her irritation. She didn't often take baths in the decrepit cast-iron bath that graced their bathroom, but she'd felt like a quick lavender-scented soak tonight. Trust Heather.

‘It won't take long,' Heather said mildly.

‘I'll have a shower.' Lorna flounced out of the sitting-room in high dudgeon. Why on earth would she want to stay in this kippy hole with Heather when she could be living in the height of luxury in Malahide? And maybe when Heather had to live with a new flatmate she might learn to be a bit less selfish and not go using all the hot water, she fumed.

The following evening Lorna followed Carina's sleek, silver Peugeot off the dual carriageway, along the winding back roads to Malahide. They were going to go on a pub crawl later so she'd packed her new red matador pants and black bustier. Matador pants and the flamenco look were
so
key this season and they looked gorgeous on her. She'd been working out really hard at her local gym and she was in excellent shape, she thought happily. Just as well, though. Carina, with her long willowy body and sleek black bob, was stunning and you'd need to look pretty damn hot yourself to get a look in if you were socializing with her, she thought ruefully. It wouldn't be like going out with Heather. Lorna knew she outshone her cousin easily. That was never a cause for concern when they went out.

She followed Carina with a mounting sense of excitement as they drove through the picturesque village of Malahide towards the exclusive apartment complex overlooking the Marina. This was what she wanted. Much more her! Carina indicated left into the complex and Lorna followed. Her colleague had told her to park in the bay beside her. The man who owned it was elderly and didn't have a car any more and Carina's ex-flatmate, Audrey, had appropriated it. ‘You can use it if you move in,' Carina assured her airily.