With All My Love Read online

  ‘There you go, son, that will warm you up.’

  ‘Thanks, Ma, you’re the greatest,’ he grinned, sitting down on the sofa.

  ‘Where did you go? It’s a horrible night.’

  ‘Just to the hotel.’

  ‘Valerie called earlier but I told her I’d given you a lift down. She’s gone all glam and sophisticated since she started working.’

  ‘She’s a good dresser all right.’ He took a slug of the hot chocolate.

  ‘Just let me give you a word of advice, Jeff. You need to focus on your exams now. Valerie hasn’t the burden of studying like you have. She’s a free agent so make sure you keep sight of your goals and don’t be distracted. There’ll be plenty of time for you to have fun and go places and enjoy yourself when you have your qualifications. You only have another year and it will be worth it in the end. Maybe tell Valerie you need to concentrate on your studies for now and not let things get too serious.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he sighed. He’d had this lecture before. He knew Tessa was right, he needed to focus on his engineering studies if he wanted to graduate and get any sort of a decent job, but a guy had to have some diversions. And besides, he really liked being with Valerie – well, most of the time, when she wasn’t in a snit.

  ‘Leave that, I’ll wash it up for you when I’m doing mine,’ Tessa said, curling back up on the sofa with her book.

  ‘Thanks. ’Night, Ma.’ He leaned over and kissed her and put his mug in the sink before taking the stairs two at a time. He was looking forward to his bed as the wind got up again and sheets of rain pelted the windows. Tessa had already turned his electric blanket on. She was a sound mother, he thought gratefully as the heat infused his cold body. He wished Valerie was in his arms. Body heat was the best for warming you up, he thought tiredly, yawning so widely he nearly dislocated his jaw. Moments later he was asleep.

  Tessa opened her candlewick dressing gown and flapped her hands up and down over her face as the rising tide of heat flashed yet again through her body. The top of her scalp was so hot she could fry an egg on it, she thought glumly, hating this now frequent occurrence over which she had no control. She’d had to leave the comfort of her bed to cool down. Her post-coital lethargy had evaporated and she felt wide awake. Nothing in life had prepared her for this sudden hard slap of middle age: the aches in her feet and hands, the memory loss, having to wear glasses now at nighttime to read. How had this happened? It wasn’t as if it had crept up on her as such. It had seemed that one day she was youthful and fit, and then overnight, after that horrible first hot flush, when she wasn’t sure, couldn’t believe it was happening, the realization that her youth was gone and there was nothing that she could do about it. It grieved her, truly grieved her.

  She felt that she had achieved so little with her life. She had been a wife and mother, reared her children, and now had a part-time job in the local pharmacy, which paid for luxuries like her own car and the odd holiday. But her life had been predictable; happy enough for the most part, she supposed, but looking back, things could have been so different. When she saw Valerie Harris and Lizzie Anderson, parading around in their up-to-the-minute fashions, and Valerie whizzing around in her little red Mini, an ache of loss would surprise her every so often and she’d have one of her ‘what if’ moments.

  Those girls had it all. Not for them the grinding monotony of the kind of life she’d led, especially in the early days of childrearing. Did they know how lucky they were to have choices? Or did they take it all for granted? she thought crossly as another flush enveloped her. It had been a mistake to drink hot chocolate. But a glass of wine would have set her off as well. She heard Lorcan’s rumbling snores upstairs. Did men know how lucky they were? Jeff was probably snoring his head off too, but she was damn sure Valerie would be awake fretting after their row, because that was what women did.

  Well, a bit of fretting wouldn’t do her any harm. Jeff had his exams to pass and his life to live, and Tessa wasn’t one bit sorry to hear that all was not rosy. Let Valerie Harris go and hook her claws into someone else. She was just a bit too smart for her boots, a bit too sophisticated and a bit too smug.

  And you’re jealous of her! The realization made Tessa’s jaw drop as she sat staring into the dying embers, feeling thoroughly disgruntled, wondering where all this had come from. She remembered how a friend of hers had once told her that issues that hadn’t been dealt with always seemed to surface with the menopause. Well, she just wasn’t having any of it. She’d dealt with her issues and that was that. There was no point in looking back. No point at all!

  ‘Do you think I should go to his match?’ Valerie curled her hair around her finger and dropped the last of her coins into the call box outside the supermarket. She had phoned Lizzie from the call box to have some privacy and tell her of the events of the night before.

  ‘Why don’t you go about ten minutes before the end so you don’t have to stand shivering for the whole of it?’ Lizzie, ever the pragmatist, suggested.

  ‘Oh, that’s a good idea.’ Valerie brightened. ‘What will I do if he ignores me?’

  ‘He won’t ignore you, he’s mad about you,’ Lizzie snorted.

  ‘I’ll ring you tonight to tell you how it goes,’ Valerie said hastily as the phone started beeping.

  ‘It will be fine,’ Lizzie assured her comfortingly before the line went dead.

  Valerie took extra care with her appearance and added another layer of foundation and blusher. She had been so tense she had barely touched her roast beef dinner, telling her mother she’d have it later.

  At least the sun was shining and the rain of the night before had moved out over the Irish Sea. It was difficult driving with the sun so low in the sky. The glare bounced up off the road and dazzled through the bare-branched trees, almost blinding her in spots as she drove to the football pitches where the Rovers were playing a home game. She could hear the roars as she drove along the narrow road that led to the playing field. The cars were parked up by the ditch on either side of the road and she spent five minutes or more trying to squeeze in between a rusty Toyota and a Renault, breaking out in a cold sweat when she misjudged and thought she was going to grind up against the side of the Toyota. She was a nervous wreck by the time she got out of the car and she had to take a couple of deep breaths as she made her way to the sidelines. She asked a middle-aged woman who was minding a child in a buggy what the score was and was told, ‘It’s a draw and we’re into injury time.’

  Just about made it, Valerie thought with relief, scanning the swarm of players as they raced down to the far goalmouth. And then she saw Jeff, elbowing a player out of the way and kicking the ball to a teammate as the crowd roared their approval. Her heart lifted at the sight of him.

  The player raced towards the opposite goalmouth as the opposing team defenders surged around him and then the final whistle blew and the Rovers supporters groaned, and consoled each other. The players back-slapped each other, shook hands with the opposition and began strolling over to the sidelines to greet supporters before heading back to the clubhouse.

  ‘Jeff, Jeff,’ Valerie called his name, waving her green Rovers scarf to catch his attention. She saw him glance over his shoulder and then he saw her and his face split in a broad grin as he made his way over to her.

  ‘I’m sorry for being a cranky cow,’ she blurted as she threw herself into his arms, not caring that he was manky dirty and hot and sweaty.

  ‘I’m sorry too.’ His hug was tight.

  ‘I love you, Jeff.’ It was out before she knew it. The first time she’d said it.

  ‘I love you too, Val,’ he said easily, and they gazed at each other, oblivious to the crowd around them.

  Further up the pitch, Tessa stood, her hands shading her eyes as she watched them.

  Row over, she thought as she watched her son lean down and kiss his girl. It looked like Valerie was here to stay for the foreseeable future.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Tears s
lid down Valerie’s cheeks onto the photo album as memories she had long suppressed overwhelmed her. Lying against her pillows, thousands of miles from Rockland’s, in the balmy heat of a Spanish night, she felt as if she had never left home. The years had reeled back and it was almost like watching a film of her life. The intensity of the emotions and feelings that churned within shocked her. She’d thought she’d got over all those years of hurt and grief. She thought she had buried deep the feelings of antipathy and rancour, and got on with her life.

  And now this fresh horror. Briony’s discovery of Tessa’s letter had brought that woman back into her life again. Hadn’t she caused enough damage? Was Valerie to be eternally punished? How could life be so unfair? Hadn’t she suffered enough? Jeff had been taken from her. Her own father had practically disowned her once she’d got pregnant. Carmel had Alzheimer’s and didn’t even recognize her any more, and now Briony hated her and was threatening never to let her see her beloved Katie again. Just when she’d finally got her life on an even keel, she was back in upheaval. A place she’d been many times in her life.

  She heard Katie give a little whimper and jumped out of bed, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks as she hurried into her grandchild’s bedroom.

  ‘What is it, chicken? I’m here, Valerie’s here.’ She leaned down and kissed the little girl.

  ‘I’s having a bad dream. Can I come into your bed?’ came the plaintive plea.

  ‘Of course you can, darling.’ She leaned down and lifted her up. She loved the way Katie snuggled into her neck, with one small thumb tucked into her mouth.

  ‘Can I have a biscuit, Valwee?’ she asked sleepily.

  ‘Does Mammy give you biscuits at night?’ Valerie smiled as she carried her into her bedroom.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Katie yawned.

  ‘Just this once then.’ Valerie laid her gently on the bed and pulled the sheet up over her. She loved the way Katie called her Valwee. She had never wanted to be called ‘Gran’ or ‘Nan’ or the like. She was too young, she’d told Briony firmly.

  She went out to the kitchen, shook a few biscuits onto a plate and poured a small amount of milk into two tumblers. Her hand hovered over some cupcakes but she decided against them. It was late; she didn’t want her granddaughter to get a tummy ache.

  ‘Are we having a midnight feast, Valwee?’ Katie’s eyes widened with pleasure and she sat up when she saw her grandmother bringing the goodies in on a small tray. She adored midnight feasts.

  ‘We are, love, but then you’ve got to lie down before Mammy comes home because we don’t want her to be cross,’ Valerie warned.

  ‘OK,’ her granddaughter agreed, and reached for her milk and biscuits.

  Valerie watched her enjoy her snack and felt an ache of sadness as she took a drink of her own milk. It was inconceivable that Briony would prevent her from seeing Katie again. It just couldn’t happen.

  But it could, a little voice in her head said. You stopped Tessa from seeing Briony. You got your own back there. Now it’s your turn to suffer.

  Valerie stared at Katie as she licked her fingers, drained her tumbler of milk and handed it to her before settling down against the pillows, a smile curving her rosebud mouth. ‘That was brill, Valwee, thank you. Will you sing me a song? Mommy always sings me Sugar an’ Spice an’ all things nice.’

  A flashback of Tessa singing that little song to Briony made Valerie catch her breath. Imagine that her daughter had remembered it and now sang it to her own daughter. Valerie wondered whether Briony could possibly remember Tessa singing it to her. She fervently hoped not.

  ‘I don’t really know that one,’ Valerie said faintly. ‘I’ll sing you “Christopher Robin”.’

  ‘Oh, yes, please. I love that one!’ Katie stuck her thumb in her mouth and her eyelashes fluttered down onto her cheeks. She was practically asleep.

  Valerie sang, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice as the impact of what she had done all those years ago shook her to her core. Don’t think about it, sing the lullaby, she told herself fiercely as the evocative words floated over Katie’s drowsy head. She trailed off, aware that her grandchild was now fast asleep.

  Tessa Egan had once sung lullabies to a much-loved grandchild. Had once comforted a distressed little girl and brought her to her bed. Had once had midnight feasts, and played in playgrounds, and painted and told stories, and sang songs. Tessa had done all those things with Briony, and Briony had loved her with all her little heart. Sometimes Valerie had felt that Briony had loved Tessa more than she had loved her.

  And she had put an end to it. Had separated grandmother from grandchild. Only now when she was facing the same prospect did Valerie begin to realize the enormity and consequence of her act. If she felt Tessa had been spiteful, Jeff’s mother could say the same about her, she thought dully. She felt sick. People who believed in karma would say she was getting what she deserved. Something Lizzie was fond of quoting came to mind.

  There is a destiny that makes us brothers;

  None goes his way alone;

  All that we send into the lives of others

  Comes back into our own.

  She had caused Tessa unimaginable grief. Only now was she beginning to understand just how much. Because she had caused such grief to Tessa, was she now going to be the grieved one? The one to suffer even more heartache?

  But Tessa had ruined her life, Valerie thought angrily. She deserved what she got.

  But Briony didn’t deserve what had been done to her, that voice that would give her no peace whispered. Was this what was meant in the Bible when it said, ‘As ye sow, so shall ye reap’?

  Oh my God! Please, please, don’t let me lose Briony and Katie, please, God. Don’t do this to me, Valerie begged silently, distraught as she went back to her bedroom.

  Her gaze rested on another faded photo, one of her and Jeff, and she picked it up and studied it, then felt a savage dart of anguish.

  ‘Jeff, please, if you’re watching over us, help us,’ she whispered.

  His eyes, so happy and relaxed, stared back at her from the photo. He had his arms around her and she was looking up at him adoringly as he gazed towards the camera. The picture was taken the day of the Royal Wedding. The day Lady Diana Spencer and Prince Charles had married. The day Briony was conceived. It had been one of the happiest days of her life, and a day when it seemed all her dreams had come true.

  It was Tessa who had shattered her dreams. Tessa and her interfering ways. She gazed at the photo with bleak sadness, remembering the pure optimism and joy she felt when life had been the best it had ever been for her and no dark clouds loomed on her horizon.

  It was the last time in her life when she was truly carefree, and her thoughts drifted back to that sunny July day in 1981, when millions of people around the world watched a magical wedding and every young girl, including herself, dreamed of being a fairytale bride.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ‘Right, we have the goodies, bacon and sausages for but ties, vino for later, and plenty of chocolate and crisps,’ Lizzie declared, surveying their stash on the coffee table in their small shabby sitting room. A chintz sofa that had seen better days and a matching armchair took up most of the space. A standard lamp with a pink bockety shade that matched the pink roses in the wallpaper stood in the corner beside it. Opposite them, a narrow fireplace with chipped green tiles. A wooden china cabinet with a cracked pane of glass sat in one chimney alcove, another coffee table holding their stereo unit and TV sat in the other. A wooden sash window with white lace nets looked out over an overgrown back garden. The elderly lady who owned the house and lived downstairs allowed them to use it. It was south-facing and perfect for sunbathing.

  They had the upstairs flat in a large red-brick bay-windowed semi in Daneswell Road, close to Glasnevin Village. Shabby and old-fashioned as the flat was, they loved it. The rooms were big and airy and they had plenty of space compared to some of the matchboxes a couple of their friends lived in. They
were having the time of their lives, free from parental restraint, with Valerie’s car, money in their pockets, new people to meet and places to see. They were in their element. The icing on the cake for Valerie was that she could now see Jeff in the evenings whenever she wanted, and occasionally spend blissfully happy intimate moments cocooned in a bubble of love. In the space of a couple of months her life had changed radically in a way that she had only dared to dream about.

  Valerie had got her transfer to Dublin Corporation, and Lizzie was working in the P&T. When the letter of confirmation came from the Corporation telling her that her transfer had been accepted, and to present herself at their personnel department in Aungier Street, she had been dizzy with excitement.

  Telling her mother that she was moving up to Dublin had been difficult. Valerie felt as though she was abandoning Carmel. ‘You’ll be able to come and stay with me and we can go shopping in Grafton Street, and have our lunch in fancy restaurants and go to the pictures and the theatre,’ Valerie had said comfortingly when she’d seen the stricken expression on Carmel’s face.

  ‘You don’t want your mother hanging out of you up in Dublin. Go on and live your life and have fun up there, Valerie,’ Carmel had said firmly.

  ‘No, Mam, I’d really like to do things with you. You could come up once a month, couldn’t you? You could take the bus up and I’ll meet you at Bus Aras, and we could have dinner and go to a show or to the pictures and you could stay the night.’

  ‘You haven’t even got a place to live yet.’ Carmel had laughed at her daughter’s enthusiasm, secretly delighted that she was so insistent about spending time with her.

  ‘We’re going flat-hunting at the weekend. Lizzie can’t wait because she’s living in a bedsit. You should see it, Mam, it’s tiny and she just has a little two-ring cooker and a fridge right beside her bed! And all her clothes are in black bags because the wardrobe is just a cupboard, and she has to share a bathroom. She can’t wait to move.’