Wishful Thinking (a journey that will change lives forever) (27 page)

“Well, you seem to have settled in well,” she said, thrilled that her daughter was so happy.  Helping her and Robert buy this place was the best thing she ever did, she reiterated to herself – despite what Sheila seemed to think.

“Well, it was a bit crazy for a while but we’re getting there! And, Mum, I’m sorry that I haven’t had you over before now, but things were just
sooo
hectic! You wouldn’t believe how much work goes into finding a decent Filipino maid these days, and then of course making sure she actually does what she says she’ll do!” Sophie rolled her eyes dramatically.  “And then of course I’ve been busy with trying to find a suitable nanny for Claudia,” she added, her words going a mile to the dozen, “but thankfully we found the
perfect
one. She’s out with her now actually.”

“A nanny?” Rosie’s eyes widened in surprise. “But I’m her nanny, aren’t I?” Of
course
she knew what a nanny was, but the words were out before she could stop them and –

Sophie pealed with laughter. “Mum, you’re hilarious!” she cried. “You know what I mean, a
real
nanny, someone to look after her when I’m out.”

“But, love, if you were stuck for someone to look after her I would have been only too delighted to help out – you know that,” Rosie said, stung that all her recent offers of help with her granddaughter had been firmly turned down. And then, after all that, Sophie had gone and employed some stranger to look after her.

Sophie looked at her. “I know that, Mum, but the thing is – I needed someone I could trust, someone with the right qualifications … you know.”

“Qualifications? But who could have better qualifications for looking after her than your own mother?” Rosie said, slightly amused by this. “Didn’t I raise
you
?”

Sophie bit her lip. “I know that, and at the time I’m sure you did a great job with me and David but …”

But?
Rosie wondered what was coming.

“But things are different these days, Mum. Children need a lot more now than just someone to mother them and I suppose we wanted someone who could help stimulate Claudia – intellectually, you know …” she trailed off slightly, vaguely realising how hurtful this could sound. 

“Oh I see.” But Rosie didn’t see at all.  What kind of stimulation did a two-and-a-half-year-old toddler need that her grandmother couldn’t give her? Yes, Rosie wasn’t all that well educated herself, but were they teaching two-year-olds
War and Peace
these days?  And Claudia was a way off from starting school just yet, so why was her education an issue?

“I’m sorry, Mum – that came out sounding terrible.” Sophie had the good grace to look ashamed.  “I’m sure you’d do a great job, but there’s also the fact that we wouldn’t expect you to be looking after a young child, not at your age.”

“Sophie, I’m not ready to be carted off in a box just yet!” Rosie couldn’t keep the hurt out of her tone.

“I’m not saying that, Mum,” Sophie replied through gritted teeth. “But we’ve already made the decision to get a nanny for Claudia, so there’s no point in even having this conversation, is there?”

A terse silence fell between the two women then – the room’s high vaulted ceiling somehow making the tension much more apparent, it seemed to Rosie.

Eventually, she sighed.  “I’m sorry, love.  Of course you and Robert have to do what’s right for you – and for Claudia.” She smiled weakly, eager to smooth over the awkwardness. “Now, is there any chance of a cup of tea or –?”

Instantly Sophie perked up. “Of course!  Come through to the kitchen diner,” she said, her earlier irritation already forgotten.  “Now, what can I get you – dandelion, elderflower, camomile?” she asked, heading for the cupboards of her fabulous Acacia kitchen.  The place was huge, but at least there was a nice comfy living area over to the left – and against the wall sat an enormous brown leather couch.

“Mum, camomile?” Sophie probed. “Or perhaps you’d prefer dandelion?”

Once again Rosie felt coarse and gauche in her daughter’s sophisticated world.  “Em, just a cup of Lyons Green Label if you have it, please.”

“Well, I’m not sure … maybe somewhere …” Sophie rummaged amongst the shelves.  “Ah yes, here we are!” 

Rosie tentatively took a seat on the expensive-looking leather sofa situated to the right of an expensive-looking kitchen table that was so huge it looked as though it could have been used to hold a high-power government meeting or something. 

“So, what do you think of the sofa?” Sophie asked, while waiting for the kettle to boil.

Rosie patted the leather.  “It’s nice – the leather is lovely and soft.”

“It’s salmon skin.”

“What?”

“It’s not leather – it’s salmon skin.” Sophie informed her, her eyes shining with pleasure. Rosie instinctively wrinkled her nose and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  “Oh … oh, lovely.”

“Our interior designer suggested it.  Apparently, it’s the ultimate in luxury these days but
sooo
expensive and almost impossible to get.  Donald Trump had salmon-skin seats fitted in his newest Lear.”

“Really?” Rosie had no idea who Donald Trump was, let alone what his ‘Lear’ might be.

“I know – isn’t it fab?  And what’s good enough for Trump is good enough for us! But Nikki went mad once she found out we’d bought salmon skin, and she’d gone for boring old leather. But she can be like that, you know – so behind the times and she has such dreadfully boring taste.”

“Right.” Rosie didn’t know how to answer. Besides, she was too busy holding her breath and trying not to get a whiff of the salmon.  Wouldn’t you think that Sophie had it bad enough in her youth having to put up with the smell of fish from Wicklow harbour, let alone having the very source of that smell installed in her own living-room!

“So how have you been?” Sophie asked, handing her mother a cup of tea and flicking her long dark hair away from her face. “Are you enjoying having David back?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Rosie began, a little nervously, but pleased that Sophie had brought the subject up, “things have been a little strange and – ”

“Do you know something?” Sophie interjected, pouring coffee for herself. “The best thing he ever did was leave that tart.  Personally I never thought she was right for him in the first place, so it was no surprise to me when he finally realised what she was really like.”

“But David didn’t – ”

“And it must be just
fantastic
having him back home again, is it?  Someone to do everything around the house and to look after you,” she added dreamily. “You mustn’t know yourself.”

True, Rosie thought sadly.

“And isn’t it brilliant that he found a job so quickly?  Of course, you must find it much easier too, having someone else to share the telephone and the heating bills …”

Funny, Rosie thought, that was something she’d never even considered.  And now that Sophie had brought it up it, that was another downside of David’s coming home.  He didn’t share the bills or contribute to the upkeep.  In fact, hadn’t he expected Rosie to pay for the paint he used to ‘decorate’ the house?

“Well, actually, Sophie, David doesn’t – ”

“Oh, Mum – you’re too good sometimes!  I’m sure his heart is broken trying to get you to take money off him.  Well, don’t be too proud to let him treat you to a nice meal out or something – you did him a big favour by letting him stay with you, don’t forget.”

“Well, love, I was hoping I could talk to you about that actually because – ”

Just then the telephone rang, and Sophie almost leapt out of her seat.  “Oops! Sorry, Mum, better get that.  Just one second!”

Rosie stared into her teacup.  Why did everyone automatically assume that she thought having David home was wonderful? Couldn’t they see that things like that just didn’t automatically fall into place, that it wouldn’t be the same as it had been before? 

.  And the truth was that Rosie was finding it hard to comprehend this herself.  She had honestly believed that she and David would get on grand together, and that she would be able to help him through the tough times he was having.  But David didn’t seem to want that – he wanted to just move in, get on with things and behave as if his mother didn’t even exist. 

And while it was difficult for Sheila to understand, no doubt Sophie would be sympathetic to how she was feeling.  So, when she was finished her phone call, Rosie would start from the very beginning, and tell her all about the episode with the meat and David changing the rooms around and  –

“Mum, that was Nikki and I’m so sorry but I have to go out.” Sophie breezed back into the room, her face apologetic. 

“Oh, but I just got here, love!” Rosie couldn’t hide her disappointment. 

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry but I really do have to go.”

“But is there something wrong? Is Claudia alright?”

“Claudia?” For a moment, Sophie looked as thought she didn’t know who Rosie was talking about. “Oh, I’m sure she’s fine – she’s out with Frieda, so I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But then why –?”

“I wish I had time to explain, Mum, but I really am in a hurry.  Look, come over again soon – next week or something, yes?” Sophie marched back out into the hallway. “Can I give you a lift back into town? I’m going that way.”

“Well, maybe just as far as the train station,” Rosie said, her tone downcast.

“Great. Now do you have everything with you?” Sophie quickly grabbed her keys and almost shunted Rosie out the door, so anxious was she to leave the house. 

At the train station, and as she struggled to lift herself out of her daughter’s dreadfully uncomfortable sports-car, Rosie recollected herself.  She was terribly selfish to expect Sophie to deal with her silly little problems, especially when there were clearly much more important things for her to worry about.  Her friend must be in some kind of trouble or something.

“I’ll talk to you soon, love,” she said, “and whatever is wrong with your friend, I hope she’ll be OK.”

“Sure, Mum – see you later! Bye!”

Sophie drove off so fast she almost sent her mother spinning on the pavement.

Glancing in her rear-view mirror and seeing her mother looking a little lost outside the train station, Sophie briefly felt a frisson of guilt.  Nah, she told herself, Mum would be fine, and she could always catch up with her later. 

Then, sweeping back out onto the main road, she put the car into fifth gear and sped off towards the direction of the Southside, grinning in gleeful anticipation.  Fair play to Nikki for giving her the heads-up like that, she thought. If the situation was reversed, she really didn’t know if she would do the same. 

Yes, her mother could wait, Sophie reassured herself – but an unexpected half-day Harvey Nicks sale
definitely
couldn’t!

She had to talk to Noah – properly, Dara decided.   She had to find out once and for all if he
did
have feelings for her, if he still felt that there was something between them, be it unfinished business or something more.  That was the only way around it.  

And what if he came right out and admitted he still cared about her, that he still loved her?  And if all came to all and he asked her to leave Mark for him, how would she feel then?  She really wasn’t sure.  She did love Mark, but there was no getting away from the fact that Noah was the love of her life. 

So what should she do?  Should she stay with Mark out of respect for him and indeed respect for her wedding vows?  But then, how could she go on knowing that she had been given another chance with Noah and had once again turned it down? How could she be happy knowing beyond doubt that she’d settled for second best?  Was there any merit in that, she wondered? Up until a few weeks ago, she’d thought so.  She was happy with Mark and was prepared to give the marriage her all, but then Noah turned up and sent her into a tailspin. 

Why couldn’t he have appeared a few weeks before the wedding? Then at least she wouldn’t have to go through all this – or indeed Mark wouldn’t have to, she thought wryly.  The ring on the finger and the wedding certificate made the whole situation a
million times more difficult.  Yes, divorce was common enough these days – but after six months? 

Should she stay with him out of duty?  Plenty of women did that, didn’t they?  Plenty of women stayed with men they didn’t love, some with men they even hated.  Still, such a thought filled her with dread and, as Ruth had said many times before, surely Mark deserved more. 

Dara thought about it all the way to the bistro in which today she and Noah were meeting for lunch, and still she couldn’t come up with a satisfactory solution. 

She shook her head.  Perhaps she was blowing this all out of proportion.  Perhaps Noah was just trying to be friends, and had no interest in renewing their relationship and their connection was simply based on old times.  Yes, their romance had been incredibly intense and had ended badly and without resolution, but it had still ended, hadn’t it?  So maybe they weren’t meant to be together.  Maybe she was barking up the wrong tree.

However, judging by the unmistakeable look Noah gave her when she met him outside the bistro – a look that she knew only too well – it seemed there was very little doubt about his real feelings. 

The questions and doubts were all Dara’s.

***

“Noah, I just don’t know what to do,” Dara told him despondently over her barely   touched lunch.

He gave her a steady look.  “I can’t tell you what to do. You know how I feel.  You know that my feelings for you haven’t changed.  You’re still the one I want, the one I’ve always wanted.  I know the timing is bad but – ”

“Bad? Noah, I’m barely married. How can I just turn around and leave him?”

Noah’s tone was level. “I’m not asking you to.”

She looked at him, incredulous. “Then what
are
you asking?  That we keep meeting behind his back like this?  Pretending that we’re just a couple of friends catching up?  Noah, that won’t work.  I think you and I both know that eventually things will get serious and we’ll end up hurting people.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could go back in time and change how it was between us,” he said, rubbing his temple.  “But I can’t.  None of us can just wave a magic wand and make it all OK.  People are going to get hurt anyway.”

“Not anyone you know,” Dara said petulantly. 

Normally in control of her own life, she couldn’t comprehend how she had ended up this way.  Why hadn’t she stuck to her guns and waited for Noah to come back? 
‘What’s for you won’t pass you’ –
isn’t that how the old saying went? 

So, why did she bow to the others, bow to what everyone else thought she should do and marry a man who wasn’t ‘for her’?  How could she have been so stupid?  Why did she make a decision, a major decision in her life simply to keep other people happy?  To keep other people off her back and stop them from looking at her strangely!  Did it really
matter what they thought?  Did it matter to the point where she was forced into making a complete mess of her life?

“As I said, I wish I could make it easier,” Noah said, tentatively laying a hand on hers and caressing it softly. 

It was the first real contact they had had in all those years, and yes, the spark was still there. 

She looked at his face, into those mystifying green eyes, hoping to find some kind of an answer to her problems.  But none revealed itself.  The answer didn’t exist. 

Instead, Dara had some serious decisions to make. 

                                                     ******

“So, of course I took it back to the shop and honestly, Gillian! You’d swear I’d gone and stained it myself!”

Well used to her best friend’s petulance, and usually only too eager to get involved in a rant about bad service, Gillian would normally sit and listen to Norma’s moaning before offering a sympathetic reply.

But not today.

Today, Gillian’s mind was elsewhere. 

Or more correctly, her
focus
was elsewhere, namely on the couple sitting at the top of the room in a quiet corner of the bistro.  The couple who looked way too cosy for Gillian’s liking. 

She knew it!  She knew it all along!  That one was nothing but a stuck-up, two-faced man-eating … Gillian couldn’t think of enough compound adjectives to describe the cow!

Should she go over and say something – make herself be known?  Or more importantly, make it be known to the bitch that she had been caught – literally red-handed!  They couldn’t see her, the darkness of the café and the midday sunlight in their eyes would prevent that, but she could certainly see them!  Look at her now, softly caressing his hand in public like that.  Had the woman no shame?  Blood rushed to her face and she couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry.  How
dare
she?

How dare she go and have lunch with some fancy-man behind Mark’s back, let alone flaunt him around for all to see!   Who the hell did Dara Campbell think she was?  Reminding herself of the inexcusable fact that Dara wouldn’t even lower herself to take her brother’s surname, Gillian became even more angry. 

“And then he just …Gillian? Gillian!” her friend snapped. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Norma sat back in her chair and folded her arms petulantly across her chest. “Well, I’m very sorry if my experiences bore you, but you don’t see
my
eyes glaze over like that when you talk about your little darlings, do you? Although not for the want of trying,” she added acerbically.

But Gillian hardly heard her; she was too busy fuming at Dara.

“Everything has to come back to the kids with you.” Mightily cheesed off at the fact that her friend was ignoring her, Norma was on a roll now. “Like the other night, when we were all having a laugh in the pub – trying to get a
break
from kids – and you had to start that conversation about Mikey’s bloody poo!  Honestly, Gillian, I wasn’t going to say anything but – ”

“What?” Finally her friend’s words began to filter through, and Gillian looked at Norma, her eyes narrowing.

“Remember? You were filling us in on all the gory details, the colour, the texture – and if you’re not regaling us with tales of poo, it’s something equally fascinating like how Lily points at her bum and says ‘bum!’.  Wow! Big bloody deal, Gillian!  We’re not all baby-mad, you know – some of us actually have a life!”

Gillian sat up, doubly shocked by all that was happening today.  And to think she had just come out for a quiet lunch …

She leaned forward, fully prepared to give as good as she got. “Well, if we’re being honest, Norma, then
I’m
sick to the teeth of hearing about your pathetic sex-life.  Do you think I’m that interested in how little time Jim spends on foreplay, and how disinterested he is in your breasts?” She eyed her friend’s chest derisively. “But sure, who’d blame him?”

“What? I thought you were my friend!” Norma gasped, shocked and more than a little embarrassed that they might be overheard.  Her eyes darted to the closest table but the occupants seemed too busy with an animated conversation of their own to pay any interest.

“Yeah, well, maybe we should reassess that,” Gillian replied stonily, thinking that perhaps today might be the best thing that could have happened.  Gathering her belongings, she threw a twenty-euro note on the table, and without another word strode off in the direction of the ladies’ at the back.

Once inside, she tried to calm her temper. What was all that about?  She and Norma had been friends for years but, in fairness, the one-upmanship was becoming a bit tiring as
time went on.  Thinking about it now, Gillian wondered why she hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell Norma to stuff her friendship years ago.

Still, she thought, studying her reflection in the mirror, would she be able to find the courage to tell Mark about Dara’s behaviour and what his new wife – evidently – thought of him?

                                                *******

The following morning, Dara stared unseeingly out the window as the train trundled forward.  It was packed again but at least today she’d managed to nab a seat.  She had a busy morning ahead, but it was difficult to concentrate.  Mark had been acting very strangely this morning, and not at all like his normal happy-go-lucky self. He’d barely said anything when she left the apartment just now, let alone gave her his usual goodbye kiss.

There was no way he could have suspected anything, was there? she thought fearfully.  How could he, when there was nothing to suspect?  She and Noah had done nothing wrong – although with the way things were going, it would only be a matter of time before they did. She bit her lower lip anxiously. 

She sighed softly.  Ruth was right of course.  She had to do something and sooner rather than later.  And at least Noah had given her the bit of space she needed to think about things.  He’d told her that in order to make things easier and less confusing for her, he would stay out of her way for the coming weeks.

“Just don’t take too long,” he’d said, before leaning forward and brushing her lips lightly with his. 

Just then, she didn’t know how she’d resisted pulling him towards her and continuing the kiss properly, but the brief contact had enough of an effect to make her think about the weight and reality of her situation.   Things were getting dangerous and it was only a matter of time …

So she had to do something – she had to make a decision, and quickly.  

But it was so hard.  On the one hand, there was the love of her life, the man she’d thought she’d lost forever, and on the other, her kind, gentle, loving husband.

It would be so much easier if the choice were simple, like it always seemed to be in the movies.  If this was the movies, Noah would be the sexy, loveable and trustworthy one, played by someone like Colin Firth, while Mark would be the lying, faithless and villainous one, probably played by Colin Farrell
.
 

But in this case, Mark was a decent guy, probably too decent, and it was difficult for her to come up with a good reason for leaving him. And the worst part of all was that she did love him.  Again, it wasn’t the same as it was – or had been – with Noah, but there was still that shared companionship and great friendship that the two of them had.

To think that only a few short weeks ago, she and Mark had been talking about when they planned to start a family!  She shook her head.  She had really convinced herself, hadn’t she?  She had really believed that Mark would do, that he was enough, that she didn’t need the big romance, that she could be happy with him.  And in all honesty, she had been happy with him, in fact, she had been very happy – until Noah came along.

The train reached her usual stop, but this time Dara stayed on board.  The Gardner case on which she and Nigel had spent the last few months working so hard was being heard that morning, so today she was heading straight to the Four Courts. 

She sighed again, but this time for a different reason. 

It was pretty obvious what was going to happen with this case, and she supposed she should be pleased, but really, the likes of Leo Gardner deserved some sort of punishment, be it fiscal or otherwise.  Personally, Dara would love to see the smug so-and-so do a little spell inside Mountjoy – it would do him the world of good.  But Gardner’s privileged and well-connected position meant that this was unlikely to ever happen.  She shook her head as the train pulled into Tara Street.  To make the situation worse, from what Dara had gathered from the other side’s solicitor, a negative judgement could ruin, quite literally, ruin the plaintiff.

But today, Dara thought, as she made her way towards the courts, this could very well be the least of her worries.

Because try as she might, she couldn’t help but wonder what on earth was up with Mark.