Behind Every Cloud (3 page)

Their wedding had been
the social event of the year. Rachel first saw him as he was running with windblown hair along the beach in Marbella, where her parents owned a villa
.
It was love at first sight
.
He was tall and broad-shouldered with shoulder-length dark
-
blond hair and twinkling blue eyes. His body was tanned and athletic a
nd
he exuded an energy and charisma that was irresisti
ble.
With his good looks and easy charm Carl seduced every
one he met
,
and Rachel was no exception.
And she easily ensnared him. She
had long honey
-
blonde hair which shimmered like silk and
,
together with
her olive skin and soft dark
-
brown eyes
,
made for a stunningly attractive woman
.

Rachel had always been on the skinny side of slim but the birth of her two children
,
in quick succession
,
had given her new curves
.
Carl said it made her more voluptuous
and she wondered if he was just being kind.
Of course she would need to be extra careful with her diet now – what with all the functions they had to attend. She had no intention of letting herself go like so many of the women in public life had done.

Together she and Carl made a very handsome couple and were much in demand at all the smartest parties and now that he had become involved in politics, well, the world was their oyster. They had moved onto the national stage and
Carl was in his element
,
enjoying every moment of it. Rachel was not enjoying it quite as much. She felt they had become public property and he was hardly ever home
,
now that he had so many demands on his time.

Of course, her life before politics had not all been plain sailing. When a man was as good-looking, sexy and charismatic as Carl, it was inevitable that there would be women throwing themselves at him. And Rachel knew her husband was no saint. He had a voracious sexual appetite and she
’
d suspected for some time after Becky was born that he was not being faithful to her. However, she
’
d turned a blind eye in the hope that she was wrong but
,
when she
’
d accidently caught him out
(thanks to Tiger
-
Woods-type texts on his phone)
,
she could no longer ignore it and the shit had hit the fan. What had hurt most was the fact that the woman in question was a neighbour whom Rachel had considered to be her best friend.

She
’
d thrown him out of the house and threatened to divorce him and take the children with her. An abject and penitent Carl had begged and pleaded with her to reconsider and had sworn that it would never happen again. Rachel still loved him madly and wanted more than anything for her marriage to work
,
so eventually she
’
d forgiven him
.
Needless to say she
’
d never spoken to the other woman again.

Carl loved the cut and thrust of politics and she hoped that this new interest would keep him fully occupied with no time for dalliances. Rachel knew
that he knew it would hurt his new career if he were to be caught up in any scandal. She figured that this would keep him on the straight and narrow.

Rachel left the salon three hours later
,
feeling alive and rejuvenated. She tripped lightly along towards her favourite restaurant, One Pico. The owner welcomed her warmly and she was aware of the looks and whisperings of other diners who recognised her. She ordered a Caesar
Salad – no croutons
,
and dressing on the side – and a half bottle of wine, relying on the wine waiter to suggest a good one. She wished she was more knowledgeable about wine but
,
even though she loved it, she found it all a bit confusing and intimidating
.
She decided to buy a book on the subject that very afternoon.

After lunch she made her way to her hair salon in South William Street for her weekly hairdo. With her hair newly
washed, conditioned and straightened
,
she headed to Brown Thomas to check out the latest collections. Now that she had to accompany Carl to so many functions she seriously needed to update her wardrobe. It annoyed her that people expected her never to wear the same outfit twice. Who could possibly afford that? Even Kate Middleton was to be seen reprising her dresses.
Still
,
Rachel knew she did need to invest in some new clothes. She bought a beautiful royal-blue Diane Von Furstenberg wrap
-
over dress and a Michael Kors leather jacket
,
which fitted her like a glove.

On her way back to the car she stopped by Sheridan
’
s cheese shop and bought a selection of their fabulous cheeses. On the spur of the moment, she popped into Hodges Figgis bookshop and headed to the wine section. She was flabbergasted at the sheer number of books on the subject and in the end settled for one by Oz Clarke. She
’
d seen him on television and he
’
d seemed to be passionate about his wine but not too stuffy and serious.

Driving home
,
she looked forward to the evening ahead with pleasure. Every Wednesday afternoon Rachel
’
s mother collected Jacob and
Becky from school and they stayed with her and their grandfather in Kinsealy overnight. This suited everyone. Her parents got to spend time with their grandchildren whom they spoiled rotten. The kids loved it and it gave Rachel and Carl at least one night alone together every week – well
,
it had
,
until he
’
d been elected a TD. Now he held clinics for his electorate every Wednesday in Baldoyle, Sutton and Howth. However, he
’
d promised to
be home by ten
thirty
every week and he hadn
’
t let her down yet.

Although she adored the kids
,
she had to admit she loved the freedom that came with just her and Carl in the house for the night. The nanny, Paloma, also had Wednesdays off and wouldn
’
t return until lunchtime on Thursday so they had the whole house to themselves. Often they made love on the floor in front of the fire, in the shower, or even, Rachel blushed at the thought, on the dining-room table. With no chance of a little one or a nanny interrupting things, they could be as uninhibited as they pleased.

Arriving home,
Rachel changed into her red silk pyjamas and took some slivers of the delicious
cheese and a bottle of
Merlot
into the den.
Curling up on the sofa
,
she opened Oz Clarke
’
s book and started to read. She became so engrossed in it that the hours flew by and it was Carl
’
s key turning in the lock that brought her back to reality. Goodness gracious, she thought, could it be that time already? Guiltily, she realised that she had
almost finished the bottle of wine completely. Closing the book, she got up to greet her husband.

“
Someone
’
s been drinking, I see,
”
he said, kissing her wine
-
stained lips.
“
None left for me?
”

“
Sorry, darling. I bought a wine book and just got lost in it.
”
She twined her arms around his neck.

“
Oh, so you
’
re just following their instructions, is that it?
”
he teased.
“
Well, let me open another bottle and you can educate me
.”
He released her and headed for the wine rack.

“
Seriously, it
’
s fascinating,
”
she told him, pouring the little left in the bottle into her glass and draining it in one gulp
. “
I never realised that wine could be so interesting.
”

“
Oh, I
’
ve no doubt it is. They actually run wine courses
now
.”
He began to open another bottle of Merlot.
“
I saw a poster tonight for one starting in Clontarf soon. Maybe you should consider joining
?”
He poured a glass of wine for himself.

“
Gosh, that sounds super. Where and when?
”
she asked, holding out her empty glass to him so that he could refill i
t.

“
I don
’
t remember. You
’
d better ring Graingers in Baldoyle to find out
.”
He refilled her glass
. “
That
’
s where I saw it. They
’
ll give you the details.
”

“
I
’
ll ring them tomorrow,
”
she promised
,
taking a sip and moving closer to him.

He chatted about the people he
’
d met that evening
,
entertaining her with his usual witty observations
.
She told him about her day and what she
’
d read in Oz Clarke
’
s book. Draining his glass
,
he nuzzled her neck then slipped his hand inside her top. All thoughts of wine disappeared as she enjoyed the sensation of his hand caressing her nipples.
She felt quite uninhibited and more than a little drunk
.
The bottle of Merlot was left unfinished as they made love on the sofa and then wound their way up the stairs where they started all over again.

The following morning
Rachel rang Graingers and got the number for the wine course
,
which she then dialled. She crossed her fingers
,
hoping that the course would not be on a Wednesday. She was in luck
.
A very nice guy, who said his name was Sam, told her that they would be starting the first week in June and it would be held on Monday nights. That suited her perfectly as Carl held his clinic for the other part of his constituency on a Monday. Great! She got the details from Sam and enrolled on the spot
,
promising to send a cheque in the post.

Satisfied, she prepared to go to the charity luncheon for the Rape Crisis Centre.
Things were really tough now for charities in Dublin and Rachel tried to support them whenever she could
,
but she had to be selective and prioritise or otherwise she
’
d have had to go to at least three luncheons not to mention dinners every single day. People didn
’
t realise how difficult life could be for a politician
’
s wife.
Everybody wanted a piece of her husband and sometimes she feared that there would be nothing left for her. She saw less and less of him since he
’
d taken office and lived life constantly in his shadow. She hadn
’
t been prepared for the multiple demands on her time either
,
but
she took her responsibilities very seriously. Luckily she had Paloma and Olga, the housekeeper
,
who came in every morning to keep things on the home
front running smoothly. Otherwise she couldn
’
t imagine how she would have coped. She knew that she led a privileged life in comparison to the hardships many other women suffered
.
She
appreciated that
,
but it brought with it its own problems.

She posted the cheque to Sam
,
for the wine course, on her way to the lunch.

3

Ronan McIntyre was searching in the wardrobe of the spare room for his old running shoes. He thought that he might take up running again now that the evenings were so much brighter. He didn
’
t find them but what he did find shocked him to the core. He pulled out at least ten bags with the names Brown Thomas, A Wear, Next, Gap and Coast artfully scrawled across them. His heart sank and he dropped on to the bed, his head in his hands. His wife, Louise
,
had promised him that she
’
d cut back on her shopping. She knew the company he worked for was in a perilous state and that his job might be on the line very soon
,
but she was still spending with no thought of the future. He emptied the bags on the bed.
Shoes
,
handbags
,
jeans
,
dresses
,
tops
,
all came tumbling out. He looked at them in despair. She must have had at least a hundred p
airs of shoes, some she
’
d never even worn, not to mention about fifty bags, but still she bought, bought, bought. He knew without a doubt that it was an addi
ction. When it had first started she
’
d tried to explain to him that it was the thrill of acquiring something new that she loved
– not whether she needed it or indeed would ever even wear it. He didn
’
t understand it but he
’
d been as generous as he could afford to be with her
,
hoping it would help with her depression. Now, years later, she was still shopping but the problem had escalated rather than gone away.