Double Wedding Read online

  ‘And she met this gorgeous Guard two days after she broke it off with Gary, you wouldn’t believe it,’ laughed Jessica.

  ‘I’d believe anything of Carol,’ her mother said drily. ‘So it’s just family and friends, now. That’s fine. I’ve organized the wedding cake and Lily Doherty is going to get me the greenery for the flowers – you did say you wanted my gladioli for the altar, didn’t you, and freesias for your bouquet?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jessica said happily, feeling a tingle of excitement. For the first time in weeks she was finally beginning to look forward to her wedding. ‘It can’t come quick enough. I’m really going to miss not having Mike around. It’s going to be weird.’

  ‘You’ll manage. At least he’s got good digs,’ her mother comforted.

  ‘I know. It’s just I’m so used to seeing him and being with him. I’m going to miss him in the club too.’

  ‘He’ll be there at weekends. And he’s got a good job, Jessie, that’s a great start in life.’

  ‘I know,’ Jessica murmured, but her stomach felt like there was a great big lump of lead in it at the thought of driving back to Dublin on Sunday night, knowing that Mike was miles away from her in Wicklow.

  * * *

  ‘Hi, gorgeous, where are you?’ Gary called as he let himself into Jen’s flat with the key she’d given him half an hour earlier. They’d decided to have a night in and he’d gone down to the offie to get a couple of bottles of wine. They planned to order in a Chinese. Gary was looking forward to it. It had been a tough week, workwise. Two other guys were out sick and he’d been run off his feet. And for some reason he was having trouble sleeping. He kept seeing Carol smiling up into that Guard’s face and it bugged him. What did he have that Gary didn’t have? He couldn’t hack it that Carol had been seeing someone else while she’d been with him. It was unbelievable. Usually it was the other way around, he had to admit.

  He couldn’t help wondering if she had slept with him. Had she wrapped those strong toned legs around him and made him groan with pleasure? It was a thought that tormented him.

  Jen had been cool enough too. Another novel experience. He was really losing his touch, he thought heavily. She hadn’t invited him back to the apartment until tonight. Unheard of in all the time he’d known her.

  He went into the kitchen and uncorked the wine to let it breathe. She must be in the loo.

  ‘Hi.’ He heard her voice behind him, and turned to see Jen standing in the doorway in a pair of black satiny French knickers and a lacy camisole that emphasized each glorious rounded curve of her breasts. Her nipples were hard and the sight of them made him hard.

  ‘Oh, Jen,’ he groaned, pulling her to him, ‘it’s about time.’ Fleetingly, as he led her to the bedroom, he wondered what Carol would look like in French knickers and a tight black camisole.

  20

  Brona Wallace waited tensely in the reception area of the Civic Offices for Carol to arrive down in the lifts. She’d given the whole idea of confronting Bill’s daughter a lot of thought over the past week. She hadn’t said anything to Bill. He wouldn’t want her to do it, but she felt strongly that if she discussed the matter with Carol, woman to woman, she could make the younger girl understand just how much her father was hurting by her cruel rejection of him. If she could get her to understand that Bill loved her very much, Brona was certain Carol would have a change of heart.

  She saw a young woman stride out of the lift to reception and then saw the receptionist point in her direction. Brona stood up and arranged her face in a pleasant smile. Carol wasn’t what she expected. She’d expected someone less . . . less confident, perhaps. This woman walking towards her had a no-nonsense air about her that caused Brona momentarily to wonder if she’d made a mistake in coming.

  ‘Yes, can I help you?’ Carol was asking politely, a look of puzzlement in her brown eyes.

  ‘Hi, you must be Carol.’ Brona held out her hand. ‘I’m Brona Wallace—’

  Carol looked at her in astonishment and pulled her hand away as if she’d been stung.

  ‘What do you want?’ she demanded, and her tone was none too friendly.

  Brona began to bristle. Didn’t Carol realize that this wasn’t easy for her? She was coming to endeavour to make peace between father and daughter; the least she could do was try and meet her half-way.

  ‘Look, I think it’s important that we talk. Your father’s very upset by your refusal to even talk to him—’

  ‘So he sent you around here to do his dirty work,’ Carol sneered.

  ‘Excuse me.’ Brona drew herself up to her full height, wishing that the other girl wasn’t tall enough to be looking down her sneery nose at her. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, Bill doesn’t know I’m here. I came to attempt to persuade you to put aside your differences and ask you to try and see how much he loves you,’ she exclaimed indignantly. ‘You know, your father works his fingers to the bone still and has done all these years to send your mother money. He’s always provided very well for you and you haven’t even the decency to acknowledge that.’

  Carol’s face darkened in fury and Brona felt a tingle of apprehension.

  ‘Now you listen here to me, you interfering busybody,’ she hissed. ‘My father walked out on me, my sister and my mother ten years ago and he left us to our fate—’

  ‘Your mother drove him to leave. She’s an alcoholic and she wouldn’t go for treatment no matter how much he tried to get her to.’

  ‘Exactly,’ spat Carol. ‘My father left me and my little sister in the care of an alcoholic and no amount of money will ever camouflage that. He could have taken us with him. He didn’t. He abandoned us physically, morally, emotionally and spiritually. Who did our homework with us when our mother was pissed? Who looked after her when she couldn’t even make it to the loo? Who cooked and cleaned for us and got us out to school when she was plastered drunk? Not him. He signed cheques and did direct debits. Certainly he fulfilled his financial responsibilities; no one’s disputing that. But that’s easy. You don’t have to be physically present when you’re dishing out cash to salve your conscience. You know something?’ She pointed a finger aggressively in Brona’s face. ‘We had a life of misery while he swanned off to Dublin and met the likes of you. So you get the fuck out of here and don’t you dare ever, ever come near me again, you smug little know-all. Let me tell you, you know nothing about the way my father treated us. The nerve of you coming here lecturing me. I don’t want that bastard near me, do you hear me?’

  Brona shrank back at the ferocious anger in the younger woman’s face. She was shaken to the core.

  ‘Get out of here and don’t dare ever come to my place of work again. Get your self-satisfied little mush out of mine and go and play happy families with my father, because happy families is something I know nothing about, thanks to him.’ She turned on her heel and strode back to the lifts.

  Brona was trembling. What a huge mistake this had been, she thought shakily, as she tried to ignore the curious stares of the people in the foyer and hurried out of the building and down the steps on to the quays. Tears of fright and shock ran down her cheeks. This wasn’t a scenario she’d imagined at all. She’d imagined going home to Bill with the wonderful news that she’d talked Carol around and a reconciliation was very much on the cards. Instead she now had to confront the fact that the man she adored and looked up to and felt sorry for because of his disastrous marriage might not have behaved as honourably as she’d thought.

  Brona hurried along the quays as the rush-hour traffic trundled past and cars, buses and lorries belched fumes into the hot, sultry air. The Liffey stank to high heaven and she wanted to get away from here as fast as she could.

  She tried to banish Carol’s words but they kept coming back in sickening clarity. Abandoned, physically, emotionally, morally and spiritually. That’s what Carol had accused her father of. There was no arguing with it. No nice way of putting it. Bill Logan had abandoned his children and in her heart of hearts
she couldn’t dispute that, much as she wanted to. Brona sobbed into her tissue as her beloved partner came crashing down off his pedestal right in the middle of Wood Quay.

  * * *

  Carol just made it to the loo, where she puked uncontrollably as rage, grief, despair, sadness and hatred swept through her. She couldn’t believe she’d said all those things. It had come pouring out of her like a torrent. She’d felt that her feelings about her father were well under control – obviously not, she thought agitatedly as she lifted her head, wiped her mouth with a tissue and flushed the loo. She pulled down the toilet seat and sat on it, her hands trembling as she ran her fingers through her hair.

  How dare that self-important, sanctimonious woman come to where she worked and deign to lecture her about her treatment of her father? How dare she? Carol was so incensed she thought she was going to be sick again. She swallowed hard and managed to quell her queasiness.

  She couldn’t believe how shaken she was, how angry. She thought she’d managed to put her father’s betrayal of them behind her a long time ago. The ferocity of her feelings frightened her. She wanted to get out of here. She needed to be alone.

  Oh no, not alone, she screamed silently, but there was no one to run to, no one who understood. Jessie was the only one she could tell, the only one who might understand, but she’d gone to Wicklow for the weekend to help Mike settle into his digs. She had to pull herself together and pretend that nothing was wrong, otherwise it would be all over the office that there’d been a drama in reception. Drawing on every ounce of strength she had,

  Carol wiped her eyes, straightened her uniform and walked back to her office.

  * * *

  Sean dried himself off after his shower and splashed some aftershave on to his face. He dressed quickly, conscious that he was running late and he wasn’t taking the car. He didn’t want to keep Carol waiting. He sighed as he towelled his hair dry. She was a strange girl in some ways. Hard to get close to. He never knew what was really going on in her head. There was always this reserve. She had this tough outer façade, but behind it, he felt, there was a great deal of softness that she didn’t want seen.

  He was enjoying being with her. The swimming was going great. She was fit and competitive and he enjoyed that. He wanted to take her hill-walking, which he thought she might like; he’d suggest it to her tonight.

  She liked him, he felt, but there was sadness in her eyes sometimes and he knew she was thinking about that Gary bloke that she’d been engaged to. She didn’t talk much about him and Sean didn’t pry. He liked her friends. They seemed a solid crew. He’d had drinks with them midweek to celebrate Mike’s new job and his leaving Dublin. That had been a good night, and he’d felt that Carol had relaxed a bit more with him and enjoyed herself.

  He was her rebound, Sean acknowledged with a grimace as he pulled a short-sleeved shirt over his head. It didn’t make him feel great, he had to admit, but he’d persevere for a while and see how they went.

  She was waiting for him on the steps of Eason’s and she looked so woebegone and peaky he was dismayed.

  ‘What’s up with you, my good woman?’ he teased as he put his arm around her and gave her a hug. She rested her head against his chest.

  ‘Nothing,’ she murmured, her reply muffled.

  ‘You look a bit shattered. Is something wrong?’ he persisted.

  To his horror she started to cry. Frantically she dried her eyes.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, it’s nothing. Look, I think I’ll go home if you don’t mind, I don’t feel a hundred per cent,’ she managed to say before bursting into tears again.

  ‘What’s wrong, Carol? Is it the bloke?’ he asked sympathetically.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she pleaded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. It was such a childlike gesture his heart went out to her.

  ‘Will you tell me what’s wrong?’ he asked gently, shielding her from the gaze of curious passers-by.

  ‘Not here,’ she said, composing herself a little.

  ‘Will we go and have a cup of tea somewhere? Or a drink?’

  ‘No . . . I might start crying again. I’m sorry, Sean.’

  ‘That’s OK, I know where we’ll go,’ he said quietly, taking her hand and jay-walking across O’Connell Street towards North Earl Street.

  She followed him unquestioningly, and looked at him in astonishment five minutes later when they stood at the steps of the Pro Cathedral.

  ‘Come on, we’ll find a quiet little spot and you can tell me what ails you and then we’ll decide what to do with ourselves,’ Sean said firmly, determined to get to the bottom of her problem.

  It was comforting in the dusky twilight of the cavernous cathedral and the lights of the candles gave a sense of ease. A few people, mostly elderly, were scattered around the church, rosary beads slipping silently through their fingers. An old wino snoozed in one of the pews. The scent of beeswax polish reminded him of school. He led her to an empty seat away from the nave.

  ‘What’s up, Carol?’ he asked as he sat down beside her and turned to face her. Head bent, unable to look at him, she shook her head.

  ‘Come on, tell me. I might be able to help.’

  ‘No one can help me,’ she said brokenly, and her torment was so raw he felt for her.

  ‘Try me,’ he urged.

  ‘Oh, it’s family stuff,’ she muttered.

  ‘Yes . . . and what’s wrong with your family?’

  And then it all came out . . . the alcoholic mother, the father that had walked. The fear and anger and grief and hatred all bubbling just below the surface having been unleashed by the visit of that misguided woman who was now her father’s partner.

  Sean wasn’t shocked. He’d seen enough of dysfunctional families in his job not to be. But he was dismayed for Carol. She was obviously struggling with a lot of issues and it needed someone with more expertise than he had to help her sort them out.

  He held her tightly as she cried against his shoulder. ‘Would you have done that? Would you have walked away? You’re a man, can you explain his thinking to me?’ she wept angrily.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said truthfully. ‘Until you walk in someone else’s shoes you can’t know how you would act in their position.’

  ‘It was wrong, though, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t have left us to deal with it. We were only kids,’ she cried.

  His heart went out to her. ‘I know,’ he soothed, stroking her hair. ‘I know.’

  Carol raised a tear-streaked face to him. ‘I’m really sorry, Sean,’ she apologized. ‘I’ve never spoken of this to anyone, except Jessie. I’m sorry for burdening you with it.’

  ‘It’s no burden,’ he said kindly. Surely she’d spoken to her ex about it, he thought in surprise.

  ‘Did you ever talk to Gary about it?’ he asked casually.

  ‘No.’ Carol shook her head. ‘What was the point? It’s something I have to deal with myself. He wouldn’t want to know about that kind of stuff.’

  That bloke seemed to be some sort of tulip all right, Sean thought in amazement. Imagine being engaged to a woman and not even copping on that she was damaged and hurting. It was a blessing she’d come to her senses and handed him back his ring.

  ‘Would you ever consider counselling or see someone from Al Anon?’

  ‘Ah no!’ Carol sat up and wiped her eyes. ‘I don’t need it. I’m over it all really. It’s just that Brona one coming into work unexpectedly brought it all back, I suppose. She’d an awful cheek, hadn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, she did, Carol, forget her,’ he said firmly, wishing he could get his hands on the silly fool.

  ‘Look, why don’t you head off to Slattery’s and I’ll get a bus home? I’m a bit whacked to say the least.’ She sat up straight and ran her fingers through her hair.

  ‘You know, I’m not really in the humour for Slattery’s. I’d like to spend the night with you,’ he said honestly. ‘But as your place is a bit small and there’s no privacy in my place, I have a s
uggestion – and please don’t think I’m being forward,’ he said earnestly, anxious that she wouldn’t take his suggestion the wrong way.

  ‘What’s that?’ she responded warily.

  ‘My sister’s away in France at the moment and I’m keeping an eye on her house and feeding her blasted cats,’ he grimaced, and Carol giggled in spite of herself. ‘We could spend the night in her house. It’s got two bedrooms,’ he said hurriedly. ‘It’s a nice house. It’s a little bungalow out in Clontarf. I could cook us something to eat.’

  ‘Wouldn’t she mind?’

  Sean shook his head. ‘Not in the slightest. We look out for each other.’

  ‘OK,’ she agreed, to his surprise. ‘I’d like that. I don’t feel like going back to that kip.’

  ‘It’s time you got a better flat than that place,’ Sean said briskly as he stood up. ‘I’ll help you look for one.’

  ‘You’re very kind.’ Carol looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.

  ‘Do you think so?’ He grinned down at her. ‘The criminal fraternity of the city might not agree with you. Come on.’ He took her hand and headed over to the statue of the Sacred Heart. ‘Let’s light a candle for you, my mother swears by them.’

  ‘Oh!’ she said, astonishment flickering in her eyes. ‘I didn’t think you’d go for that sort of thing.’

  ‘I surprise myself sometimes,’ he said, half-embarrassed. It had been an impulsive suggestion but she smiled at him and he was glad he’d suggested it. He slipped a few coins into the box and lit a half-dozen candles for her. What harm could they do? he thought ruefully as he put his arm around her shoulder and walked out into the sultry summer’s evening.

  21

  ‘He’s such a nice bloke, Jessie, he was so kind to me. I was mortified, bawling all over him. You know me, I never cry in front of people.’

  ‘I know,’ Jessica said faintly, amazed at what she was hearing. She and Carol were in the bar at the club. It was Monday night and she was missing Mike madly, even though it was less than twenty-four hours since she’d said goodbye to him.