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City Woman Page 15


  ‘Caroline and I are separating. For reasons that will remain known to us alone, our marriage is over. We have started annulment proceedings and will be getting a divorce.’

  Sarah went white with shock. She opened her mouth to say something and closed it again.

  ‘I know it’s a shock, Mother, but it’s the best thing for us,’ Richard said. Sarah gasped as if she’d been struck. Then she stood up and, advancing on Caroline, her grey eyes slits of venom, she said in a voice that shook with fury, ‘It’s all your fault! I never wanted you to marry my son. I knew you weren’t good enough for him, you and that . . . that dreadful family of yours.’

  ‘Be quiet, Mother. I won’t let you talk to Caroline like that,’ Richard cried.

  ‘Don’t you tell me to be quiet in my own house.’ Sarah was livid, two bright spots of red mottling her cheeks. ‘I warned you. I warned you but would you listen to me? I knew it,’ she ranted. ‘I knew it would end in tears. All she’s done is bring disgrace to the family name by her drinking. She’s a slut, do you hear me, a drunken slut who doesn’t know how to behave.’

  In two steps Richard was across the room, and Caroline saw him raise his arms as if to shake Sarah. ‘Richard!’ she grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t touch your mother!’

  ‘I’ll kill her!’ He was white with temper as Caroline came between them.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she shouted, sick with fright.

  ‘I hate her.’ Richard started to cry. ‘She’s made my life a misery. She never let me have any friends. She always claimed that she was above everyone else and so was I. It’s all her fucking fault. She interfered in everything. I wanted to be a botanist but she wouldn’t hear of it; it wasn’t good enough for her precious son. I had to be a solicitor like Father. Didn’t I?’ he roared at his horrified mother. ‘Don’t you dare blame Caroline. Blame yourself, Mother, for all this mess, because you’re right – I should never have married her. And I’ll tell you why, you mean-minded, selfish, horrible woman—’ He was almost incoherent with anger. ‘—I should never have married my wife because I’m a homosexual, Mother. Do you know what that means? I love men, not women. I love Charles and I’m going to America to be with him because he’s dying. If I never see you again, I’ll be happy.’ He pulled his arm from Caroline’s grasp and rushed from the room and out of the front door, slamming it behind him.

  ‘Oh,’ Sarah moaned, her hand clutching her throat. ‘Oh, Richard, what has she done to you?’ She sank to her knees and Caroline caught her as she fainted.

  She thought she was going to faint herself. Dry-mouthed, trembling, she tried to haul her mother-in-law on to the sofa but she was too heavy. Leaving her stretched on the floor, she ran out after Richard, who was sitting in the car staring into space.

  ‘You’ve got to come back in,’ Caroline pleaded. ‘She’s fainted. We can’t leave her like this, Richard.’

  He was beside himself. ‘I hope she fucking dies.’

  ‘Richard!’ Caroline yelled at him. ‘Stop it. Come into the house with me now and help me lift your mother on to the sofa.’ Biting his lip and wiping the tears from his face, he followed her back, and between them they managed to lift his mother. ‘Put some cushions under her feet,’ Caroline ordered, ‘and get me a glass of water.’ Sarah was moaning on the sofa as she started to come round, and when Richard returned from the kitchen with the water, Caroline held the glass to her mother-in-law’s lips and raised her head so that she could drink.

  The elderly woman sipped the water, then lay back and closed her eyes. ‘Get me the priest,’ she moaned. ‘Get me the doctor. I’m dying.’

  ‘You’re not dying; you just fainted,’ Caroline said brusquely. ‘Lie back and relax, you’ll be all right in a minute.’

  Sarah opened her eyes and glared at her. ‘And I don’t want any help from you,’ she hissed, and Caroline felt quite relieved that her mother-in-law was returning to her usual form and obviously in no danger.

  ‘Leave me.’ She waved a limp hand. ‘I want nothing to do with either of you.’ Caroline cast a glance at her husband. He shrugged his shoulders. He was a great help, she thought in irritation.

  ‘We’ll just stay for another while to make sure you’re all right,’ Caroline said steadily.

  ‘I want to go to my room,’ Sarah said stiffly, and in spite of herself, Caroline felt sorry for her. This visit must be like a nightmare for her. First to be told of their separation, then to have Richard raise his hand to her and finally to have him declare his homosexuality.

  ‘Would you like me to come up with you?’ she asked.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Sarah said curtly and, drawing herself erect, walked out of the room with immense dignity.

  Caroline turned on her husband. ‘You know, you’d want to go and see a therapist about that temper of yours. How could you even think of raising your hand to your mother? You should be ashamed of yourself. That’s not normal behaviour, Richard.’

  ‘Well, when she called you a slut, I just saw red,’ he muttered.

  ‘Nothing justifies violence to a woman. Your own mother, for God’s sake!’ Caroline said, utterly disgusted.

  ‘But you don’t know how she makes me feel,’ he burst out. ‘Like a two-year-old, powerless, frustrated. She’s always done this, as long as I can remember. It’s not right, it’s not fair.’

  Caroline sighed and shook her head. She was suddenly very tired of it all. Richard’s fraught relationship with his mother had caused him serious psychological damage, and unless he sought professional help he would never learn how to deal with it.

  ‘Richard, for your own sake please see someone who can help you to work through all this anger. You’ll never be happy otherwise.’

  ‘All right, Caroline, I will. When I’m in America I’ll do something about it,’ her husband promised. ‘Come on; let’s go home.’

  From an upstairs window, Sarah Yates watched them go. She felt terribly shaky after that dreadfully angry scene. She had never seen her son so much out of control and it had frightened her. If Caroline had not intervened, he would have shaken her. Her own son would have laid hands on her. It was unbelievable. And the language he had used. And the names he had called her. He wasn’t himself. She must have driven him to it, that no-good wife of his. God knows what kind of pressure he was under because of her drink problem. No wonder the poor boy thought he was . . . she shied away from that horrible word he had used to describe himself. He had been pushed to the limit, obviously. If he’d met the proper girl none of this would have happened. Maybe this annulment and divorce were blessings in disguise. When he was finished with that woman he’d go back to his old self, the loving, kind, obliging son he had always been. Let him go to America with Charles Stokes. Charles had been like a father to Richard; no wonder he was upset that the poor man was dying. He was so unhappy and confused he didn’t know what he was saying.

  How could he say he hated her, his own mother? Had she not made him her life’s work, caring for him, trying to guide and encourage him to be as good a man as his father was. Everything she did had been done for him. Why was he so angry now? Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, twisting her hands together. Showing emotion was anathema to her, and a lot of emotion had been shown that afternoon. It was at times like this that people took a medicinal brandy, but she had no alcohol in the house. She didn’t drink and she never offered it to others either. She felt the need for something – but what? Her gaze alighted on the bottle of Lourdes water by her bedside. Her daily had brought it home to her after her last visit to the shrine. With trembling fingers, Sarah twisted off the blue-crown and took a few little sips of the miracle water.

  ‘Help me carry this cross,’ she prayed. ‘Thy will, not mine, be done.’ Two tears plopped down on to her hands followed by two more, as Sarah bowed her head and wept.

  ‘Did you phone her?’ Caroline asked her husband the following day.

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘And?’ Caroline said in exasperation.r />
  ‘She told me to go and see a doctor about the stress I was under and said that maybe a trip to America would be a good idea after all.’

  Caroline’s eyes widened as she digested this piece of information. ‘Well, that’s good news.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Richard said non-committally, unable to recount to Caroline that his mother had also said that the Lord above would fully understand his reasons for seeking an annulment from his totally unsuitable and unwifely wife. Caroline was the cause of all his problems, according to his mother, and once she was out of the way everything would be back to normal. Richard just hadn’t bothered to argue; he hadn’t the heart. If his mother chose to deny what he was, and blame Caroline for everything, nothing that he was going to say would change her mind one iota. Sarah Yates was an expert at denial – he had learned that skill from her.

  ‘Is Charles all organized?’ Caroline raised her eyes from the shirt she was ironing and glanced at her husband.

  ‘He’s closing the sale of his house today. That will be a sad moment for him. He loved that old house.’

  ‘I wish he’d come and stay with us for the couple of weeks before you go,’ Caroline said. ‘I feel awful thinking of him going to a hotel. It’s so impersonal.’

  ‘I know,’ her husband agreed as he stapled several typewritten pages together. ‘The O’Gradys asked him to stay with them too, but you know Charles, he can’t bear to think he’s putting anyone out.’ He stuck the papers on the cork notice-board beside the phone. ‘These are our telephone numbers in the States, and there’s our address and also the bank manager’s number and the number of Martin Kenny’s mobile phone in case you need to get in touch with him. I’ve instructed Martin to lodge a cheque into your account every month, and I’ve left John Baldwin instructions for taking care of Mother’s affairs. I don’t foresee any problems but if there are, call me immediately and I’ll sort things out.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Richard. I wish you’d stop fussing. I’m not a ten-year-old,’ Caroline said irritably. Now that the time of their departure was approaching, she wished it would hurry up and come so that she could be finally done with it. It was unsettling the way things were.

  ‘I’m only trying to help,’ Richard said.

  ‘Sorry, I know you are. I just feel a bit on edge, and no wonder, after yesterday.’

  ‘Well, Mother’s fine, believe me,’ he reassured her. ‘And I will go for some sort of therapy. I know my behaviour isn’t exactly adult and rational. No doubt whoever I go to will unearth plenty of repressed fears and emotions; that’s their game, isn’t it?’ he smiled ruefully.

  Caroline put down her iron, went over to her husband and gave him a hug. ‘But if it helps, it will be worth it, won’t it?’ she said comfortingly. ‘And it might help you to be more comfortable about your sexuality,’ she added.

  Richard sighed. ‘I don’t think so. I bitterly resent being homosexual. Nobody could convince me they want to be like this. All it causes is misery.’

  ‘Charles has always been at ease with it,’ Caroline said gently.

  Richard smiled. ‘Charles is an exceptional man.’

  ‘Yes,’ his wife agreed, ‘he is.’

  ‘I want you to have this and when you have the collywobbles I pray that it will help you as it helps me.’ Charles pressed a little leather folder into Caroline’s hand. ‘My mother gave it to me and I would like to give it to you.’

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, intrigued. They were standing waiting for Richard near the escalators in Departures.

  Charles kissed her cheek. ‘It’s something that has been very special to me and there is no-one I would rather have it than you. You are very precious to me, Caroline, and your generosity knows no bounds.’

  She opened the little leather wallet and saw a page of vellum with the finest, most beautiful script she had ever seen. As she read, tears welled in her eyes. It was a prayer, a beautiful prayer:

  Count your blessings

  instead of your crosses:

  Count your gains

  instead of your losses:

  Count your joys

  instead of your woes:

  Count your friends

  instead of your foes:

  Count your courage

  instead of your fears:

  Count your health

  instead of your wealth:

  And count on God

  instead of yourself.

  ‘Oh, Charles, I’ll always treasure it. It’s beautiful. Thank you,’ Caroline flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

  ‘It got me through many a tight spot and it will do the same for you. God be with you always, Caroline.’

  ‘And with you, my dear, dear friend,’ she echoed warmly.

  Richard, who had been buying some dollars, joined them. ‘I think we should go to our departure gate.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll go with you,’ Caroline murmured. ‘It’s best if I stay here.’ As it was, she was having a hard enough time trying to maintain her composure. She didn’t want to make a complete show of herself at the boarding gate.

  ‘That’s very wise, my dear.’ Charles smiled at her. ‘We’ll phone as soon as we arrive.’ Very quickly he kissed her once more and turned away. ‘I’ll go on and let you and Richard say your farewells,’ he said briskly. ‘Take care, Caroline.’

  ‘And you too.’ Caroline met his steady gaze and then he was walking away from them and she turned her head to hide her tears. ‘Hurry after him, Richard. Don’t let him go through on his own,’ she urged, hating to see the lonely figure disappearing across the concourse.

  Richard hugged her fiercely. ‘I’ll miss you, Caroline. Thanks for everything.’

  ‘Look after yourself, Richard. Phone often.’

  ‘I will,’ he promised.

  ‘Go on.’ She gave him a little shove. ‘Go and take care of Charles. Don’t let him go to America on his own,’ she smiled.

  Only when she saw him hurrying away after Charles did her composure break and when he turned to wave, she started to cry. She waved back and watched him disappear and was turning in the direction of the exit when she heard a familiar voice say kindly, ‘It looks as though you need a shoulder to cry on. Here’s four; take your pick.’

  Through eyes blurred with tears, Caroline saw Devlin and Maggie standing in front of her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Oh, girls, if ever I needed you both, I need you now.’

  ‘You’ve got us,’ Maggie assured her. ‘Come on, let’s have a coffee.’

  ‘We thought you could do with some moral support,’ Devlin explained, as they sat at a round table up in the lounge overlooking the apron. Just to the left of them, the huge green-and-white Boeing 747 with the distinctive shamrock on the tail was fuelling up for its long transatlantic journey.

  ‘I’d be lost without you,’ Caroline admitted, feeling much less alone.

  ‘We know,’ Devlin said smugly, then grinned at her friend.

  ‘Ma Yates didn’t come,’ Maggie observed tartly. Caroline had told her friends about the events at her mother-in-law’s house a few weeks previously.

  Caroline shook her head. ‘Richard went to see her this morning to say goodbye. She preferred not to come. I can’t say I’m sorry.’

  ‘And has she said anything more to Richard about his being gay?’ Devlin enquired.

  ‘She’s pretending he never said it, that the whole episode never happened. She’s blaming his outburst on me and the stress I’ve caused him by my drinking.’

  ‘The old bitch,’ Devlin said with a scowl.

  Caroline shrugged. ‘I don’t care, really. In a way I feel sorry for her. She’s lost the one person she’s devoted her whole life to, and if blaming me makes it any easier for her, let her. I won’t need to have much to do with her from now on. I’m not going to let it bother me.’

  ‘And you’re right,’ Maggie declared. ‘From now on, you’re going to put yourself first and you’re going to start living your own
life.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Caroline saluted.

  ‘I mean it, Caroline,’ Maggie said firmly.

  ‘Listen to wise old Mother Hen. She knows what she’s on about,’ Devlin drawled. ‘She’s always practising what she preaches.’

  Maggie laughed. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes, I do, and you’re right,’ Caroline said. ‘And the first thing I want to do is treat you both to lunch. Come on, let’s go over to the hotel. We haven’t had a good natter in ages.’

  ‘You will stay the night with me – that goes without saying,’ Devlin said, as she and Caroline left to go their separate ways. Maggie had already left, to attend a meeting with her editor.

  ‘Thanks, Devlin,’ Caroline smiled. ‘I appreciate the offer but I think I should sleep at home tonight. You know, good psychology and all that.’

  Devlin nodded in agreement. ‘Good thinking, Caro. But don’t forget – I’m in the next block if good psychology fails and you get lonely.’

  ‘I won’t.’ Caroline gave her friend an affectionate hug and received one back in return. Driving back to the apartment, she remembered a line from the prayer Charles had given her.

  Count your friends instead of your foes.

  Well, she had the best of friends. That was obvious. With Devlin and Maggie on hand to give her moral support, she’d manage fine.

  Sixteen

  ‘How are things?’ The transatlantic line was so clear that it was almost as if Richard were just down the road.

  ‘Good,’ Caroline said cheerfully. ‘I’ve been busy at work this week. I sold two properties, which isn’t bad because the property market is in the doldrums. They’re going to let me go at the end of the month until around February when things pick up again.’

  ‘What will you do with yourself?’ Richard asked.

  ‘I’ll keep myself occupied. I’m taking classes in Ballymun Comprehensive. I’ve taken up painting and I’m doing computer studies. I’m enjoying it.’

  ‘That’s great,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Keep at it.’