Happy Ever After Read online

  He was so fit and healthy, and his blue eyes had lost none of their intensity. When he’d stared down at her, there was no warmth in his gaze, just cold, disdainful hostility. Marianna sighed. She remembered a time when his eyes had been hot with desire and those long, hard legs of his had imprisoned her beneath him. Sex with Drew had been fantastic. It probably still would be, she thought wistfully. Edward, her second husband, had become paunchy and flabby as he’d grown older. There was no flab on Drew – he still had a six-pack to be proud of and muscles in his arms that would be the envy of many a younger man.

  She frowned as she compared her ex to her current husband. Edward fell way short, she thought angrily. He was carrying on behind her back; she knew it, and she didn’t care. What did that say about their marriage? As long as he paid for her lifestyle, he could do what he liked. She knew whom he was carrying on with, too. Kendra Duvall was a divorcee, fifteen years younger than Marianna, and equally blond, pert, petite and Botoxed. Nevertheless, Kendra’s husband, Marshall, had dumped her for a twenty-year-old bimbo, and she’d taken him to the cleaners and got a very healthy divorce settlement.

  Marianna and Edward were in the same golf club as the other couple, and they socialized in the same circles. So not only was Kendra blond, pert and petite, she was now wealthy in her own right and on the look-out for a new husband. Edward was managing her investments and, it seemed, looking after her emotional and sexual needs as well. Marianna had found receipts for perfume, and jewellery from Harry Winston’s, which she’d never received, in one of Edward’s suit pockets when she’d been sending it to the dry cleaner’s. That had alerted her that her husband was up to no good.

  From then on, she’d kept an eye on his cell phone and his credit-card bills. One number kept coming up on his cell phone, and she’d written it down and phoned it from a call box in the local mall one hot August afternoon.

  ‘Halloo.’ Kendra’s unmistakable clipped Connecticut tones came down the line. Even though she’d anticipated it, it still gave Marianna a shock. She put on a false New York twang, said, ‘Ronng numba,’ and hung up. When Edward came home, she said casually, as she placed a steaming fish-chowder starter in front of him, ‘I met Francine Crammer today, and you know how she’s such a gossip? She tells me Jamie Van Horan is leaving her husband for a much younger man, and Kendra Duvall is seeing someone new and Francine thinks he’s married, because she won’t spill. It doesn’t surprise me – she walks around with her tits hanging out and her skirts up to her bony little ass. She’s such a tarty trollop, wouldn’t you think?’

  Edward had turned a deep shade of maroon, reminding her of an over-ripe tomato, and muttered something about not being interested in Francine Crammer’s silly gossip before bending his head to his chowder and eating as though his life depended upon it. When she told him she’d booked herself into an expensive spa for a full day of luxury treatments, he’d said, ‘Fine, fine,’ without any of his usual comments about belt-tightening and cutting down on frivolous extravagance.

  From that day on, she had spent as she wished, and spend she did. And from that day on, she had moved out of the marital bedroom into Katy’s old one, and she hadn’t had sex with him since. ‘Your snoring keeps me awake,’ she’d said, as she carried her possessions across the landing.

  ‘We can’t have that,’ Edward had said dourly. ‘You need your beauty sleep.’ He’d paid for that snide remark with a brow lift and collagen treatments around the eyes and lips.

  She didn’t miss not having sex with Edward. It had grown boring and mechanical on both their parts, and she was always glad when it was over and he had hauled himself off her to his own side of the bed. There was no cuddling, like in the early days of their marriage, no lazy chatting and teasing, just a turning on his side with his back to her and, five minutes later, deep, rumbling snores and, on a bad night, several loud, stinky farts.

  What would sex be like now with Drew, Marianna mused as he turned right into the SuperValu car park that lay at right angles to the one in which she was parked and disappeared from view. Was he seeing anyone, she wondered, unlocking her father’s Merc, reversing out of her parking space and heading towards Brittas to pick up her mother.

  She’d given up quizzing the girls when they came back from their holidays with him because, as they’d grown older, they’d become even more loyal towards him. They’d always loved him fiercely – not even distance had dimmed that. ‘Why didn’t you stay in Ireland, so we could have seen more of Dad?’ Erin had asked her once, and she’d been hard put to answer her daughter without showing herself in a bad light. Marianna shook her head almost unconsciously. All that was water under the bridge. Why couldn’t Drew accept that? Why did he continue to treat her as the most loathsome creature, as something that had crawled from under a stone? Well, this trip it was going to be different, Marianna vowed. This time, for once and for all, her ex-husband was going to put the past behind him, and she would do everything in her power to make him remember what it was about her that had made him fall so hard for her in the first place. A rare sparkle lit her green eyes. If Edward could play away from home, so could she, but for her it would be more like coming home, and Drew Sullivan didn’t know what a treat was in store for him. She hadn’t had sex in more than a year, and she was ready for it and how. Just thinking about it made her hot, and she sighed with pleasure, remembering some of the delicious things her ex-husband had done to her when they were madly in love and the world was their oyster.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ‘Hey, you look cool,’ Debbie smiled as her half-sister hopped eagerly into the car beside her.

  ‘Thanks, I bought this top in Zara a little while back, and Mom bought me the combats in Milan two years ago, and they never fitted me but I can fit into them now. Mom goes to Milan a lot, to trade fairs for work,’ Melissa explained as she settled in beside Debbie.

  ‘Right. That’s handy for getting cool gear, they’re fabulous. You’re losing weight for sure. I need to lose a few pounds too.’ Debbie patted her little round tummy.

  ‘It’s easy – just stop eating and it falls off,’ Melissa advised.

  ‘Easier said than done. I’m starving. Will we get a Chinese for supper?’ Debbie suggested.

  ‘Oh . . . OK,’ Melissa agreed, sliding her D&Gs down off the top of her head and settling them on her nose. The sun had come out, and Debbie had the roof down, and she was hoping against hope some of her classmates would see her swanning around in the Audi soft-top. It was so cool.

  They drove along towards the People’s Park and, as luck would have it, Wendy Collins and Selena Armstrong were strolling along on the opposite footpath, chatting animatedly.

  Melissa sat up straight and gave a casual little wave. Wendy stopped and looked twice before waving back, and then they had driven past. Melissa glanced in the side mirror, but couldn’t see if the two were looking back or not. She would have loved to turn her head, but that would have been too childish. Wendy was OK on her own, but when she was with Selena she was totally bitchy. Still, at least, she’d been seen. Driving around in a sports car was better than hanging around in the People’s Park for sure. Let them see that she was as super cool as they were.

  ‘So how’s the holliers going?’ Debbie asked as they drove past Teddy’s ice-cream shop along the seafront, the breeze making her hair blow back from her face.

  ‘OK,’ she sighed. ‘It’s pretty boring, to be honest.’

  ‘Make the most of it,’ laughed Debbie. ‘I’d give anything to have three months off. Are you going anywhere with Dad and your mom?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Melissa said slowly. ‘Debbie, can I tell you something – and promise you won’t say anything to anyone?’

  ‘I promise.’ Debbie flashed her a look of concern. ‘Look, why don’t I pull into the car park here and we can talk? Is everything OK?’

  ‘No,’ Melissa said, and her lip wobbled.

  ‘Hold on, just let me park,’ Debbie said hast
ily, manoeuvring into a space and pulling the handbrake up. ‘What’s wrong?’ She reached out and took Melissa’s hand. It was very cold, she noted.

  ‘I heard Mom and Dad having a terrible row, and Mom wants a divorce when the baby’s born, and I’m really scared. And I just wonder has Dad found someone else. And you’re the only one who would understand ’cos you’ve been there.’ She burst into tears, sobbing her heart out, not caring that people walking along the promenade could see her.

  Debbie gazed at her in dismay. This was totally unexpected. How would she handle it? If Barry and Aimee were going to divorce, Melissa was in for a very hard time, no question. She took a deep breath. ‘No, I’m sure Dad hasn’t found someone else. Really, Melissa,’ she said, injecting as much reassurance as she could into her voice. ‘Look, maybe they were just having one of those rows that people have. Me and Bryan have them all the time,’ she fibbed.

  ‘Do you?’ Melissa took off her sunglasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing eye shadow and mascara across her cheeks.

  ‘Here, have a tissue,’ Debbie offered helpfully. ‘Sure we do. I think Bryan wouldn’t mind a divorce right now, because he’s pissed off with me because I’m telling him we have to stop spending money and start paying off our credit-card bills. In fact, we’re going to have to get rid of this for something smaller,’ she confided.

  ‘Really?’ Melissa exclaimed, as the knot of worry that had held her prisoner since she had overheard her parents’ row seemed to dissolve.

  ‘Yeah, we owe a lot after the wedding. So look, don’t panic, people say things in anger that they don’t mean at all.’

  ‘But they’re hardly talking. It’s horrible at home. And Mom’s not happy about having a baby, I don’t think.’

  Debbie made a face. ‘I can kind of understand that,’ she said slowly. ‘If you haven’t planned to have one, it can be a shock – I’d be horrified if I got pregnant right now – but things will settle down and she’ll get used to the idea, and then things will calm down between her and Dad.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Melissa studied her half-sister’s face earnestly, trying to see if she was just being kind or if she really believed what she was saying.

  ‘I do,’ Debbie said confidently. ‘The thing is not to worry. I used to spend my time worrying about Mum when I was your age. I used to lie awake in bed imagining this disaster happening or that one, and none of them ever happened, so it was just a complete waste of time.’

  ‘Really! I do that, too, all the time.’

  ‘Well, stop it,’ Debbie instructed firmly. ‘You just go and have fun with your friends and forget about worrying about your parents – they can look after themselves, trust me on that.’

  ‘Oh! Right, OK. Hey, thanks – it’s such a relief to be able to talk to someone who knows. I didn’t like to say it to Sarah, even though she’s my best friend. I wouldn’t like her to think there was anything wrong at home.’

  ‘That’s what sisters are for so, if you’ve any worries, you can tell me, and don’t be making yourself miserable.’ Debbie gave Melissa’s hand a squeeze.

  ‘But you won’t tell Dad what I said?’

  ‘Of course I won’t, you ninny, and you don’t tell Bryan what I said,’ Debbie warned.

  ‘Of course I won’t, you ninny,’ Melissa echoed, and they grinned at each other.

  ‘Right, let’s get to Greystones and see Miss Hope. I’ve brought her a treat of chicken pieces that I kept out of the wrap I had for lunch.’

  ‘And I brought her some cat-food treats,’ Melissa said happily, feeling as if a load had been lifted off her shoulders. ‘I just can’t wait to see her, she’s the most beautiful little cat I ever saw.’

  ‘I have the latest Duffy CD – will we play it?’ Debbie suggested, starting up the engine and edging out into a gap in the traffic.

  ‘Deadly,’ Melissa agreed, as her half-sister slid the CD in and music filled the air. They broke into a rousing rendition of ‘Warwick Avenue’ as they zoomed off towards Dalkey. The wind blew their hair off their faces, and they let their worries float away in the evening breeze.

  Debbie watched from the kitchen sink as Melissa, outside on the deck, tickled Miss Hope under her chin. She was washing up after their Chinese supper, scraping the remnants of their meal out of the aluminium cartons. Melissa hadn’t eaten half hers, she noted, and then she looked at the scraps more closely. Her stomach gave a strange little lurch and she gazed at the carton in dismay.

  Melissa’s crispy chicken looked half chewed, and Debbie realized, as she poked it with a fork, that that was exactly what it was. Dread and fear wrapped their tentacles around her as it slowly dawned on her that her half-sister was chewing and spitting out her food. No wonder she was losing weight so rapidly. How long had she been at this, and what else was she doing to keep her weight off? Was she in the first stages of anorexia? she thought, thoroughly shaken at her discovery.

  She’d felt so sorry for her in the car park when she’d blurted out her fears. Debbie had got a shock there too. Although she’d encouraged her half-sister not to worry, hearing that Aimee was looking for a divorce was a bolt from the blue. Despite the fact that she had no time for the woman and it wouldn’t bother her in the slightest if she never met her again, Debbie wouldn’t like Melissa to go through what she’d gone through as an angry, worried teenager: all the worrying she had done over something she had no control of, all the misery she’d endured. Melissa was obviously experiencing the same sort of emotions, and Debbie felt for her. Although she appeared cool and sophisticated, it was all a façade. She was a real child at heart, Debbie thought with a sudden surge of affection. Who would ever have thought she would end up worrying about her half-sister, she thought wryly, remembering all the years she’d loathed the very mention of her.

  She scraped the chewed-up food into the bin and wiped the counter with a damp cloth. What should she do? She might mention it to her dad to keep an eye on Melissa. But she wanted to be careful. If Melissa felt she’d discussed her behind her back, she might never confide in Debbie again. She’d ask Connie what to do when she came home from her holidays, she decided. It was imperative that Melissa had someone to talk to because, for all her confident words, Debbie wasn’t at all sure that Barry and Aimee wouldn’t end up divorced and, if that was the case, Melissa would need someone she could trust more than ever, and Debbie would like that someone to be her.

  ‘I love you, Miss Hope.’ Melissa buried her face in the cat’s inky soft fur. She purred like a train and flicked out her little pink tongue to give Melissa a lick. Melissa tickled behind her ears, and the purring became even more ecstatic. If only she could get a cat, Melissa thought wistfully, gazing into Miss Hope’s green eyes.

  Still, at least she could come and visit Miss Hope, and it had been fun driving down with Debbie. It had been great, too, to confide in her. Having an older sister was deadly. She’d never realized what a comfort it could be. Debbie seemed quite sure that her parents wouldn’t divorce, that it was only a row that would pass. She would know – she was married, too, and even she and Bryan had rows.

  The best thing of all was that Debbie had complimented her on her weight loss. All her hard work was really paying off. It made starving herself worth it. She’d been a bit horrified when Debbie had suggested the Chinese, but she’d managed not to eat most of it by discreetly chewing and spitting. Later, when she got home, she would make herself puke, even though she didn’t really like doing it. Making herself puke was wrong, it was bad for her body, but eating crap food was even worse, and stern measures had to be taken. But she wouldn’t think about that now. She was having too much of a nice time. All in all, it had been quite a good evening, Melissa decided, kissing the top of Miss Hope’s furry head and receiving a reciprocal and very welcome lick back.

  ‘You had no business telling Connie I was pregnant, Barry Adams, and you never told me you’d given Melissa permission to drive down to Greystones with Debbie.’
Aimee launched into her attack the minute Barry walked in the door. Unusually for her, she was home first, having been reluctant to spend more time than necessary with a sullen and furious Ian.

  ‘Ah, gimme a break, Aimee, I’m not in the mood to listen to you yakking on,’ Barry snarled as he dumped his briefcase in the hall. ‘For your information I didn’t tell Connie that you were pregnant. I wouldn’t dream of it, knowing how you feel about her. Melissa let it slip when we bumped into her and Debbie in Dun Laoghaire the morning you took the test. She’s just a kid. She was excited, and out it came.’

  ‘Well, you could have told me she knew. She went and told my mother, and she’s in a sulk because I hadn’t told her about it, and the whole bloody world knows, as far as I can see.’

  ‘Yeah, well, these things happen,’ he snapped. ‘Deal with it.’

  ‘You know the way I want to deal with it,’ she yelled, incensed at his attitude.

  ‘If you had really wanted to have a termination, you’d have had it, no matter what I said, so stop blaming me, Aimee, and stop being such a walking bitch while you’re at it.’ He raised his own voice, safe in the knowledge that they could fight in peace without Melissa overhearing them.

  ‘And know that you’d have it hanging over me, judging me? And never knowing if you’d tell Melissa? No thank you, Barry.’ She was white-faced.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that. What sort of a bastard do you think I am? I’d never lay that on Melissa’s shoulders.’ He was stunned at her accusation.

  ‘But you don’t mind what you lay on mine, do you, Barry?’ she accused bitterly. ‘I’m the one with most to lose in this scenario, but you don’t care.’

  ‘I do care, if you’d let me, goddamnit, but you weren’t even going to tell me, were you?’ he challenged.

  ‘I don’t know any more,’ Aimee muttered, suddenly weary. She sat down on the sofa as dizziness overcame her.