Mirror, Mirror Read online

  Patricia Scanlan was born in Dublin, where she still lives. Her books have sold worldwide and have been translated into many languages. Patricia is the series editor and a contributing author to the Open Door series. She also teaches creative writing to second-level students and is involved in Adult Literacy.

  Find out more by visiting Patricia Scanlan on Facebook.

  Also by Patricia Scanlan

  Apartment 3B

  Finishing Touches

  Foreign Affairs

  Promises, Promises

  Mirror Mirror

  Francesca’s Party

  Two for Joy

  Double Wedding

  Divided Loyalties

  Coming Home

  Trilogies

  City Girl

  City Lives

  City Woman

  Forgive and Forget

  Happy Ever After

  Love and Marriage

  With All My Love

  A Time for Friends

  First published in Ireland by Poolbeg Press, 1997

  This paperback edition published by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2015

  A CBS COMPANY

  Copyright © Patricia Scanlan 1997

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  ® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.

  The right of Patricia Scanlan to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

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  222 Gray’s Inn Road

  London WC1X 8HB

  www.simonandschuster.co.uk

  Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney

  Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  PB ISBN: 978-1-47114-125-6

  EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-47114-126-3

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

  Acknowledgements

  Once again I could not have written this book without the love and friendship of some very special people, and so it is with the deepest gratitude and love that I thank:

  God is the Giver and the Gift. Thank you, God, for the gift of this book.

  My mother and father, who helped me ‘rise above it’.

  My sister Mary and brother-in-law Henry, who got me through another one. Thanks especially for all the laughs in Wicklow (and for feeding me!).

  My brothers Donald, Hugh, Paul and Dermot, who are the best.

  My sister-in-law Yvonne, who has such a kind heart and whose ‘Three Stooges’ joke couldn’t have come at a better time.

  Lucy, Rose and Catherine, sisters-in-law and dear friends.

  And for all the wonderful hugs and kisses thanks to Fiona, Caitriona, Patrick, Laura, Rebecca and Tara.

  And not forgetting Catherine, John and Jennifer. And Alison and Gillian.

  To Maureen . . . keep working on the quilts!

  For the first time in my writing career I didn’t think I was going to be able to finish a book and then the cavalry came galloping to the rescue. Thanks:

  To Breda Purdue, guardian of my career, and a true friend.

  To Sarah Lutyens and Felicity Rubinstein, for your love, support, honesty and integrity. Good times are coming . . .

  To Francesca Liversidge, only a phone call away, thanks for the editing and that lovely bedroom with the beautiful views.

  To Annette Tallon, a great blessing in my life.

  To Mary Fanning, Teresa Hanaway, Maura Lundberg and Suzy Kate, who help me along my path.

  To Anne Schulman, who knows exactly what it’s like.

  To Deirdre Purcell, who makes it look easy!!!!

  To Margaret Daly, who’s always there.

  To Anne Morahan-Wiley for the brunches.

  To Angela Rohan, thanks for editing and proofing no 7 so conscientiously. And thanks for all the others.

  To Gareth O’Callaghan, Marian Keyes, Lia Mills and Cathy Kelly, for all the care and support.

  To Joe Lang for sound advice, hearty laughs, not to mention bachelor’s buttons, ‘heavenly blue’ and white tulips! And especially for the pink roses.

  To Alil O’Shaughnessy, who listens.

  To Tony Kavanagh for the hugs.

  To John Condon, sound as a bell!

  To Kieran Connolly . . . what can I say? Still waiting . . .

  And to the divine Dave Wickham, the nicest pilot I know. (The only pilot I know!) I still don’t trust computers!

  To Michael McLoughlin, who told me I was at no 1 and who owes me lunch!

  To Ivan Kerr for keeping in touch, and ditto lunch!

  To John Carthy, who worked wonders on my back.

  To Dr Frankie Fine, the best in the world.

  To all in Transworld, who make me feel so cherished, and to Kevin Redmond for being concerned.

  To Treasa Coady, Deirdre Moore, Peter Orford, Jimmy in Desktop Systems (Baldoyle). To the gang in Mac’s Gym and congratulations to our new gladiator! To Susan O’Brien, Nikki and JeanatNikki’sHair Studio. To Pat and all the make-up girls in RTÉ (thanks for the cheekbones!). Thank you all for helping me out.

  My thanks to Sara Farrelly for a beautiful cover and for being so nice always, and thanks to Paula, Elaine, Conor, Emer, Karen, Simon, Nicole, Lucy, Peggy and Derek.

  And finally a big thanks to all the lovely people who came to my signing sessions across the country (especially the gang of three in Belfast) and to all those who wrote to me. I really hope you enjoy Mirror, Mirror.

  I dedicate this book to Marty, Ciana, John, Dave, Bridie, and all the wonderful gang on Twelve to One, not forgetting Noel (who shared his cigarettes) and Eddie, Michael, Dennis, Walter and all the floor gang who looked after me. I had a ball. They were happy days. Thanks for letting me share them. I loved being part of ‘the family’.

  Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

  By each let this be heard,

  Some do it with a bitter look,

  Some with a flattering word.

  The coward does it with a kiss,

  The brave man with a sword!

  (The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde)

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter One

  August 1969

  Today will be a day of letting go. Ellen’s eyes widened as she read her horoscope in the evening paper. Sometimes the forecasts were uncannily accurate.

  Today she’d let go of Chris Wallace. After seven years of emotional turmoil, of loving and never
really knowing if she was loved in return, she’d finally closed the chapter on the turbulent, passionate, savagely painful love that had left her life in tatters and her spirit crushed.

  Seven years ago, she’d never have had the strength to turn her back on Chris. She’d always forgiven him, made excuses for him, let him control and manipulate her. The I love yous, I’m sorrys, You’re the only woman who understands mes, the words that had promised a love which had never been delivered, had always got to her as he knew they would. They’d always stopped the pain for a little while at least, because she had so badly wanted to hear them.

  Chris knew how vulnerable she was. He’d always counted on that and on her compassion. He’d played with her emotions. She’d danced to his tune. But not any more. Now she was free of him. She’d put the past behind her and taken a step towards a new life.

  Doug Roche would give her all she wanted. Kind, decent, caring Doug, who was as strong and dependable as Chris was weak and shallow. Chris with his insincere lies would promise you the moon . . . Doug would get it for you.

  Ellen had always believed Chris because she wanted to believe him. Willing that there was some decency and goodness and truth in him. Time and time again he’d let her down. Chris would never change. Not for her, not for anyone. He hadn’t it in him to put another person’s feelings before his own. In a way, Ellen felt sorry for him. He had never really known the joy of loving someone. He had never known what it was like to be happy for someone when something good happened to them. He’d never known what it was like to truly share.

  In all the years she’d known him and loved him, he hadn’t changed at all. He hadn’t grown or learned anything. He was still the centre of his universe and as long as she let him treat her the way he did, as long as she gave him permission to behave so badly towards her and with such lack of respect he would continue to do so. She had to accept responsibility for herself. Hard as it was, she had to finally draw the line and say enough. She had to value herself. It had finally dawned on her that she couldn’t put all the blame on Chris.

  It was a painful realisation. Ellen wanted to shy away from the thought, but that was cowardly and she’d never been a coward. She’d allowed him to treat her like dirt. She’d never said, ‘I don’t accept the way you treat me. It’s not decent. It’s not nice.’ She’d let him think that his emotionally abusive behaviour was perfectly acceptable to her. And that was very wrong. Very demeaning. She was worthy of much more. And it was wrong of her to let Chris think that the way he treated her was all right. He’d never had to face the consequences of his actions. Ellen doubted he ever would. Accepting personal responsibility for his actions had never been Chris’s way.

  For some reason Ellen suddenly remembered a very kind nun called Sister Michael who used to teach her religion at secondary school. Sister Michael had been different to any other teacher they’d ever had. She’d believed women should go to university and get degrees and have careers. ‘You can be anything you want, girls. Don’t limit your vision,’ she used to say. She’d been talking one day about Loving your neighbour as yourself.

  ‘And girls,’ she’d said. ‘How hard it is to love yourself. But if you don’t love yourself how can you love your neighbour? Don’t ever allow anyone to treat you badly. Stand up for yourself and know what you are . . . a soul of infinite value to God. If you allow someone to abuse your mind, body or spirit, you are guilty of the sin of not loving yourself. And girls, that is like slapping God in the face, because he has made you perfect.’

  Ellen hadn’t really understood what Sister Michael was trying to tell a class of thirty giddy sixth years who only had one thing on their minds . . . boys. She’d always thought that loving yourself was a very selfish thing to do. But now all these years later, as she sat thinking and thinking about her relationship with Chris, she suddenly saw what that wise nun had been talking about.

  She had allowed Chris to treat her badly because of her desperate need for his love. And when he’d left her, she’d considered herself worthless. And then, after all the pain and suffering, after all the torment of rejection, she’d taken him back and allowed it all to happen again. If she had respected and loved herself she’d never have let that happen.

  Tears pricked her eyelids. She felt ashamed of herself and her weakness. She’d been pretty pathetic really. No wonder Miriam, her sister-in-law, used to get mad at her. But it was very hard not to keep making excuses for someone when you loved them. She had let him do it to her . . . twice. How little self-worth she had. She’d let Chris manipulate and control her and done nothing to protect herself. Never ever again would she allow anyone to do that to her. Even if she were never to be involved with anyone again. Even if it didn’t work out between her and Doug. At least she’d have peace of mind. And she did want peace of mind and a good life for herself and Stephanie, her beautiful little daughter – the one good thing that had come out of her relationship with Chris.

  Ellen felt tiredness seep from every pore. It had been a long day. She was drained and exhausted. She folded up the paper and switched off the lamp. Five minutes later she was curled up in bed.

  Stephanie was staying over at Miriam’s. She loved going on ‘holidays’ to be with her cousins. And it was kind of Miriam to take her so that Ellen could have a night out.

  She and Doug had planned to go down to the Glenree Arms for a drink and then, because the night was so mild, Doug had suggested they drive to Howth and go for a walk along the pier. Then Chris had come knocking on her door and she’d nearly died.

  Tonight certainly hadn’t turned out the way she’d expected, she thought ruefully, as she stared at the patch of star-studded black velvet sky through the square skylight that sloped down her pine ceiling.

  To think, though, that Chris had called to her door, yet again expecting her to take him back after all his shitty behaviour. This time he’d found the well of love had run dry. Did he think she would put up with his selfishness and his lies for the rest of her life? Did he think he could go on taking, while he gave nothing back? Did he think he could walk all over her for as long as he wanted?

  Lying alone in her bed, Ellen felt a fierce anger. How could he not have loved her the way she loved him? Would that have been so difficult? He’d always taken her love for granted. He’d always known it was there for him. And she had loved him. Passionately. From the first time she’d met him, seven long years ago at her brother Vincent’s wedding.

  Now that she had finally closed the door in his face, wasn’t it just typical of her to start wondering if she’d done the right thing? She knew deep in her heart that she had. She’d better cut this nonsense out now, Ellen told herself crossly, ashamed of herself for being so stupid.

  In the last few months she’d had time to think and sort herself out. Hadn’t she? She knew Chris would have stayed in her life for ever if she’d wanted. Flitting in and out as it suited him. But she didn’t want it any more. She was weary of all the emotional trauma. He was a shit. He always had been and always would be. A sexy, charming, selfish, fun-loving child-man who had always run to her for comfort when times got tough. Nothing and no one could change him. She’d never change him. Suzy, his attractive blonde dolly-bird wife wouldn’t change him either. He would never give emotional stability to any woman because he was so deeply engrossed in himself.

  With Doug it was very different. Doug always made her feel that she was special. He was always interested in what she was doing. In little ways that meant a lot to her, Doug showed her that he cared about her. He always held the car door open for her. He walked on the outside when they were walking together. He mowed her lawn. He never let her carry anything heavy. He made her cups of tea when she was watching The Late Late. Doug couldn’t have been more different to Chris.

  Chris had never made her a cup of tea once. It wouldn’t even dawn on him. She had always danced attendance on him and he’d expected it of her. Ellen lay in bed trying to think of one time that Chris had ever done a
nything nice that had made her feel cherished. He’d given her a cheap birthstone ring when he’d been trying to persuade her to resume their relationship. So that didn’t count. There’d been an ulterior motive behind that.

  He’d never done one nice thing for her, Ellen thought sadly. She’d loved a mean, self-centred, weak man. Tears slid down her cheeks. If Doug hadn’t been there she wasn’t sure if she would have had the strength to send Chris away. She did miss him. She couldn’t deny that. True, she’d kept herself hectically busy so she wouldn’t have time to think about him. Opening her new deli with Miriam and her old schoolfriend Denise was all that occupied her thoughts but at night in the dark, by herself, it was hard to shut out thoughts of Chris. Maybe tonight she’d crossed that final barrier. There was no going back. It was time for a fresh start. Chris was out of her life for good. She just had to be strong. And Doug would be there to help her.

  Doug Roche took a faded photo from his wallet. He stared hard at Geena Kingston’s image. He’d been crazy about her once. He’d wanted to marry her until he found out that she’d been seeing someone else behind his back. He’d suffered his heartache, just as Ellen had. But tonight had been a turning-point, he mused, as he struck a match and watched the flame curl around Geena’s photo. Why he’d kept that photo so long he didn’t know, but now as the ashes fell into the fireplace, he knew that Geena was a chapter in his past that was well and truly closed.

  He wanted to make a future with Ellen and Stephanie and tonight, for the first time, he’d felt there was a chance. He wasn’t a fool, though. Ellen loved Chris, Doug knew that. He’d seen her glowing and radiant those first weeks after they’d started seeing each other again. And then gradually he’d seen the unhappiness, the stress, the preoccupied look in her eyes, as the months had gone by.

  When he’d seen Chris Wallace standing at Ellen’s front door, so arrogant and cocky, so sure that Ellen would fall back into his arms, Doug had wanted to land him one right in the jaw. Had that bastard no conception of what he was doing to Ellen? Of the suffering he’d caused her? Why had he come back into her life again? He was a married man with young children. He was obviously a thoroughly selfish man. And he was a bloody idiot too, Doug thought contemptuously. He should have realised what he had in Ellen and married her years ago. When she’d closed the door on Chris tonight, he knew it was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. If she could put Chris behind her, once and for all, Doug knew there was a good chance that he and Ellen could be happy together. There was a very close bond between them, a mutual respect and friendship. Maybe in time it would turn to love. There were different kinds of loving. What he’d felt for Geena was totally different to what he felt for Ellen. If only Ellen could come to the same sort of realisation, that would be half the battle. All he could do was hope and wait.