Behind Every Cloud (18 page)

David finally realised that something was wrong.

“
Come here, pet,
”
he said pulling her close.
“
It
’
s not that far and you could get the DART to work. That wouldn
’
t be a
problem.
”

“
But I
’
ve lived in Clontarf all my life. All my friends a
re here, not to mention Mum and Dad and all your family and friends too. I know no one there. I really would
much rather find a house on the north
side.
”

“
We
’
re only talking about a couple of miles, Ellie,
”
he said irritably, trying not to lose his temper with her.
“
We could check out Sandymount or maybe even Ballsbridge . . .
”

She cut him off.
“
We couldn
’
t afford Ballsbridge or Sandymount. And besides
what
’
s wrong with Malahide? You
’
ve always said you love it there. You love its village atmosphere
.”

“
Dalkey has a lovely village atmosphere too.
”

“
You know we can
’
t afford Dalkey, David. The houses there cost mega bucks and it
’
s a lot further away than even Ballsbridge
.”

He let it drop. He knew better than to insist but he hoped that she would come round eventually.

Then, not realising how upset she was, he foolishly added fuel to the fire.

“
Anyway, Frank was saying that we really should have
our wedding reception in Fitzpatrick Castle Hotel Killiney
. His daughter got married there and they did a super job.
”

“
What? I
’
m sure his daughter
’
s wedding was great but I know where I want to have our wedding and it
’
s not Killiney Castle
,
where I
’
ve never set foot in my life
,
but Clontarf Castle which is like a home from home to me and my family
!”

With that, to his surprise, Ellie burst into tears and stormed out of the room.

Since when is Frank making all the decisions for us? Ellie asked herself as she paced as much as she could in the tiny bedroom. David thinks every word he utters is gospel.

She wiped her tears. David had told her that the wedding plans were in her hands and now all of a sudden he wanted to make the decisions
.

There was a knock on the door and David came in.

It took him over an hour to calm her down but he still didn
’
t commit to anything. He was sure she
’
d see things his way before long.

16

By Sunday Rachel was exhausted. She
’
d had a hectic week
what with charity lunches and book launches and a political
dinner. Carl had even insisted that she accompany him to two funerals that he had to attend. Mind you, they
’
d turned out to be the most fun. What was it about Irish people and funerals? They were like one big piss-up. She
’
d thoroughly enjoyed them and Carl had been a bit annoyed at her when she
’
d got tipsy but while he was busy – networking, as he called it – people were buying her drinks, left right and centre. At one stage she
’
d had three gin and tonics lined up in front of her.

She wasn
’
t so stupid as to think these people were interested in her for herself. She knew that they were using her as a way to get to Carl. They saw her only as the other
half of an up-and-coming politician. She was slowly comin
g to the realisation that there were very few genuine people in politics. They were all phonies.

And honestly, the things people expected of their politicians! It was as if Carl was now public property and Rachel was beginning to think that they had no private life any
more. Carl and she were like two ships that pass in the night, these days. She hadn
’
t expected that it would be quite as demanding as this.

To top it all, here she was spending the afternoon listening to about a hundred screaming children. It was Jacob
’
s eighth birthday and he
’
d wanted to hold it in this
newest play centre which was the
‘
in
’
place at the moment. What happened to good old-fashioned birthday parties at home? Nowadays one had to take them to an adventure park or paintballing or something
,
and each year it was becoming more exotic. Still, it was better to have had it at this venue than to have had them all careening around the house in Howth. She shuddered at the thought.

She
’
d told Jacob that he could invite ten friends but her son, a chip off the old block, was gregarious and popular like his father and had gone and invited his whole class of twenty-two. What could she do about it? She couldn
’
t have uninvited them. And it would have broken Jacob
’
s heart. Said father, of course, was nowhere in sight but was off playing golf in Royal Dublin with some high-powered financiers. Even on the golf course he was networking!

Sighing she popped two Ibuprofen in her mouth. She wished that she could have a drink to calm her down but that was obviously out of the question with all these kids to supervise.

Hassled and exhausted, Rachel got the children home and while Jacob rushed off to play with his new PlayStation game, Becky retired to her bedroom and her dolls to tell them all about the party. Today was Paloma
’
s day off.

Rachel kicked off her shoes and poured herself a large – make that very large – gin and tonic. As she felt the cool liquid hit her throat, she started to relax. What a day
!
But it had been worth it to see Jacob
’
s happy little face as he blew out his candles. He
’
d hugged her then and had said it was the best birthday party ever. That had made it all worthwhile.

She finished her drink in double-quick time and then
,
as there was no sign of Carl, she poured herself another. By the time he arrived home she was totally relaxed and even a little tipsy. It was
obvious that he
’
d had a few too after his round of golf. They ordered a take-away and
,
as Rachel was tucking the kids up in bed, Carl opened a lovely bottle of Rioja to go with it. Afterwards she could barely drag herself up the stairs to bed. It cheered her up to think that tomorrow night she would have her wine course. She fell asleep dreaming of rivers of wine flowing down a mountainside.

17

Zita was in foul humour on Monday morning at work. The old, bad nightmares had returned
and she
’
d woken up several times last night, bathed in sweat and shivering violently. She’d had to drag herself out of bed in case she fell back into the dream and as a result she was cranky from lack of sleep. There was nothing she could do about it.

To make matters worse
,
she had gone down to
Westmeath on Sunday to visit her aging mother, which was always guaranteed to upset her. Her father had died shortly after she
’
d got back to Ireland and she
’
d been persuaded, against her better judgement, to go to his funeral. She and her mother had come to a sort of truce although there was no love lost between them. She would never forgive her parents for not believing her when she
’
d told them of the terrible sexual abuse she
’
d suffered but something inside her drew her back to the only family she had.

She visited her
mother about twice a year. She was one of those moan-a-minute
mothers who complained constantly and always managed to make you feel it was your fault that she was miserable. No matter that Zita
’
s aunt told her that her mother had always been a miserable sod, Zita always managed to come away feeling guilty. This last visit was worse than usual and she had been relieved to escape from the depressing and oppressive
atmosphere of the house where she grew up.

Work wasn
’
t going well either and Zita was more determined than ever to do something about it. Tonight was her wine course and she planned to make a concentrated
effort to cultivate Rachel Dunne as a friend.

When Ronan got home from work on Monday evening,
Louise was humming to herself and in great form altoge
ther. She was all dressed up, obviously ready to go out. He could hardly believe it. What a turnaround! However, anything was better than seeing her sitting listlessly in front of the telly. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“
Your dinner
’
s in the fridge. You just need to reheat it,
”
she told him as she applied the final touch of lip
gloss to her lips.

“
You look lovely. Where are you off too?
”
he asked her.

“
Just out for a drink with the girls,
”
she replied, flashin
g him a dazzling smile.

“
Please don
’
t drink and drive
,”
he said.
“
Take a taxi home.
”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“
Is that a new leather suit?
”
he asked
. “
I haven
’
t seen that on you before.
”

“
No, it
’
s an old one of Melissa
’
s but it doesn
’
t fit her any
more.
”
She avoided his eyes as she sprayed Chanel Allure on her neck and wrists.

Ronan didn
’
t believe that for a minute. He
’
d known Melissa for almost seventeen years and she
’
d been as chubby then as she was now. No, there was something fishy going on here. He felt the muscles in his stomach contract with fear. Please
,
Lord, don
’
t let her have been shopping again
!
With a feeling of dread he went into the study to check his credit-card account online. He couldn
’
t believe his eyes. There was a list of purchases, made . . .
let
’
s see . . . two Sundays ago
. . .
which totalled €
905
and there was also a lodgment made to the account the following Friday of €
905
. What was going on? He was mystified. He could hardly believe that even Louise could have spent that much money in one afternoon. But as for the lodgment of €
905,
well
,
that was a complete mystery.

Perplexed, he went back into the living-room.

“
Louise, what are all these debits on the credit card that you made last Sunday week? And where did this €
905
lodgment come from?
”

“
Oh, that
,”
she said blithely.
“
Melissa forgot her credit card when we were down in Kildare Village that day and I paid for her things. Then she paid me back last Friday and I lodged it to the account.
”
She beamed at him, almost believing the story herself.

“
Oh, I see,
”
he said, not really seeing at all. He knew Melissa was not a big spender so it surprised him that she had spent so much in one afternoon. Still, he felt a great sense of relief that it was not Louise who had spent that €
905.

She came to kiss him goodbye before swirling out the door in a cloud of Chanel Allure
.

“
Women – I
’
ll never understand them!
”
he remarked to the empty room.

He reheated his dinner and when he
’
d finished he set off for the wine course
.
He was really looking forward to it.