Foreign Affairs (33 page)

‘I can’t really remember, it all happened so fast, to be honest.’

‘They say once you’ve had it, you can’t live without it,’ Beth remarked. ‘Do you find you’re always thinking about it?’

‘Oh Beth.’ Paula had to laugh. ‘Mind, when you see the likes of him down there you can’t help but . . .’

‘I wish I had your nerve,’ Beth said admiringly. ‘Did you use a johnny?’

Paula shook her head. ‘No, I made sure it was the safe time of the month. I was very careful, there’s no point in taking risks.’

‘Well it looks as if I’ll die wondering unless a fella asks me to marry him,’ Beth said glumly. ‘The way things are at home with my sister and the baby, Ma doesn’t
even like me going to discos.’

‘Would you say Brenda ever did it with that guy she was going with?’ Paula cast an inquisitive eye at Jenny.

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. ‘She never let on to me. But I heard her once saying to Eddie that “it” hadn’t arrived yet and she went around looking awfully worried. I
didn’t dare ask her though, you know Brenda, she’d take the nose off you.’

‘Hmmm,’ Paula agreed. Although she wouldn’t say it to Jenny in a million years, she just couldn’t take to Brenda at all. Brenda treated Jenny like a little slave. She
expected her to run around after her. Jenny had to go to the shops for Brenda’s goodies when she was on a binge. Brenda had Jenny doing her ironing. There’d be a mega-huff if Jenny
refused. Paula had seen it happen. If Brenda was her sister, there’d be ructions. Paula wouldn’t take that crap from anyone. She had a feeling too that Brenda didn’t particularly
like her. Whenever Paula was in Jenny’s house, Brenda treated her very offhandedly. It didn’t particularly bother Paula, the less she had to do with Brenda the better it suited her.

‘We’d want to hurry on,’ Jennifer declared.

‘I’m all ready.’ Paula made a final check in the mirror. The jeans looked terrific, and the cerise silky shirt looked casually elegant. Her long blond hair fell over her
shoulders like a curtain of gold. Her eyes were bright and clear, her face lightly tanned and glowing after a summer spent in St Margaret’s Bay. It was great being able to buy her own
clothes. That summer job was a godsend. She’d made a lot of extra money in tips. Since Helen’s separation, her aunt wasn’t able to treat her as lavishly as she’d done when
Paula was a child. Not that Paula minded, she liked being independent. It was a thrill buying stuff with money she’d earned herself.

‘Have a good time, girls.’ Helen smiled at them as they all trooped down the stairs. ‘Don’t be too late coming in. I’ll leave some ham sandwiches out for
you.’

‘We won’t, Helen.’ Paula gave her aunt an affectionate hug. ‘And thanks for the sangers.’

‘Thanks for having us stay, Mrs Larkin,’ Jennifer said politely.

‘Yes thanks,’ echoed Beth.

‘You’re welcome. I won’t be expecting you up before lunch-time.’ Helen held the door open for them.

‘You’re dead lucky with your aunt, Paula,’ Jennifer said enviously as the girls walked down the garden path. ‘There’s no way I’d be allowed stay in bed until
lunch-time at home on a Saturday morning.’

‘Me neither.’ Beth sighed.

‘Helen’s the best in the world,’ Paula said happily. ‘She really understands what it’s like to be our age. I wouldn’t get away with half the things I get away
with here if I was at home. I wouldn’t be allowed to lie in until twelve either. Saturday’s mad at home. All the hoovering and dusting and polishing has to be done.’

‘Same here,’ echoed the girls.

‘Howya, girls. Off for a night on the tiles?’ Blue Car was walking up the road, a tennis racquet in his hand.

‘Hi,’ Paula said cheerfully. Blue Car smiled back. ‘Are ye off into town?’

‘Yeah, we’re off to a party,’ Paula said hastily, feeling it would be unsophisticated to admit that they were going to the local disco. Prudently Beth and Jennifer said
nothing, letting their leader do all the talking.

‘Talking of parties,’ Blue Car announced. ‘We’re having a party next Saturday week. Some of the nurses from the house up the road and some of the blokes from the station
are coming. If you want to bring a bottle and call in, feel free,’ he invited.

‘Sure, yeah, we’ve nothing planned so far for next Saturday,’ Paula said lightly.

‘Great stuff, see ye Saturday.’ Blue Car waved and carried on up the road.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Paula exulted. ‘And about time too.’

‘He’s got a real Cork accent, hasn’t he?’ Beth giggled. ‘“Off for a night on the tiles?”’

‘He must think we’re much older than we are. What will we bring for a bottle?’ Jennifer wondered.

‘A bottle of wine will do fine,’ Paula said.

‘I think I’ll just say I’m going to Mick’s, at home,’ Beth decided.

‘Good thinking,’ Jennifer agreed. ‘I’ll do the same. Will you tell your aunt or will she mind?’

‘Not at all, she thinks the three of them are very nice. They’ve never caused her any hassle since they came. I know she was a bit worried when she heard the house was going to be
let. I don’t think Helen will mind at all,’ Paula said confidently. ‘This is the chance we’ve been waiting for, girls. I can’t wait.’

Thrilled with themselves, the trio swanned down the street all ready to boogie.

Helen watched the three girls through the hall window. They all looked lovely. Paula especially. She loved the bubbly anticipation of their night at the disco. It only seemed
like yesterday that Helen had been off out with her friend Breda. All dressed to kill and made up to the nines, on the hunt for a man. She’d been happy then. Happy and carefree. Never in a
million years would she have seen herself as a separated wife, alone and lonely.

‘Oh stop whingeing,’ she chided herself crossly. ‘You’re not doing too badly.’

She’d come a long way since last year. Then she’d wallowed in her misery, been scared of the future and blamed her husband for everything. Now she had a job. She was secretary to the
managing director of a large travel agency and she loved it. She was earning her own money and she’d told Anthony that she was able to keep herself. He had wanted to keep paying her a monthly
sum, but Helen was adamant. She didn’t want his money. She could stand on her own two feet. Anthony protested but she’d cut him off and told him to give it to Molly as she was quite
content to be a kept woman. It was a bitchy remark, she knew, but it had just burst out of her in spite of her best intentions.

‘There’s no need for that,’ Anthony said furiously. ‘It’s beneath you.’

‘Oh don’t annoy me, Anthony. I know why you want to go on giving me money. It’s to salve your conscience, and make you feel better,’ she’d accused.

‘Look, I still feel responsible for you. I want to look after you financially,’ Anthony argued.

‘Well I don’t want you to look after me financially. I don’t
need
you to look after me financially. I can do it myself, thank you,’ Helen retorted, ignoring his
look of displeasure.

Did he think she was going to be the dependent little wife, grateful for his largesse, for ever? Huh! snorted Helen as she left him sitting in the Shelbourne, where they’d arranged to
meet. She’d gone in to Brown Thomas and treated herself to a bottle of Chanel No. 5, to celebrate her financial independence.

The job had given her back confidence and self-esteem. It was good to have to get up in the morning and go to a job that challenged and excited her. Paula had commented on how much perkier and
more zestful she’d become. Helen’s face softened into a smile as she thought of her precious niece. Having Paula come to live with her had been the best thing she could have done. She
was such good company, they enjoyed living together. It was fun to go into town on Saturday, window-shopping and occasionally having a little spree. They went to the pictures, the theatre, art
galleries and museums. They dined out every now and again. Sometimes they drove to the coast in Helen’s Ford Capri.

Paula had made her get out of the house and start living. She had been sympathetic up to a point and then she’d more or less told her aunt to get on with it. Helen admired her niece
greatly. She worked very hard at school, because she was ambitious and because she didn’t want to give Maura and Pete any excuse to bring her back to Waterford. She didn’t abuse
Helen’s trust by staying out later than she should. In fact she caused Helen no worry at all. For someone so young she was very mature, Helen reflected. It must have been because she grew up
with older siblings and was much in the company of adults. Her niece’s self-confidence never ceased to amaze her. Paula had an air of real assurance. But then, she always had. The result, no
doubt, of all the praise and attention that had been lavished on her as a child.

She was talking of doing some language courses when she finished school. She’d confided to Helen that she was going to look for a part-time job this term, and the money from that, plus her
summer earnings, would be put aside for the fees. Paula was an inspiration to her, Helen thought, feeling a bit ashamed of her own self-pity. It would do her good to go and broaden her mind. Maybe
she’d join a night class or something. She’d go down to Drumcondra library first thing in the morning, while the sleeping beauties were still oblivious, and see what evening courses
were on offer. Paula’d be delighted when she heard. She always encouraged Helen to get out a bit more. Well so she would, she decided happily. And what was more, her boss had offered her a
late season holiday at a ridiculously low price. Helen resolved she would phone Maura right this minute and insist she come to Spain with her. It would be a way of saying thank you for allowing
Paula to live with her. Maura deserved a holiday more than anyone. They’d have great fun together. It would be lovely to have her sister all to herself for two weeks. Helen was sure that Pete
wouldn’t object in the slightest. He was very good like that where his wife was concerned. In fact he’d probably be all for it. It wouldn’t cost Maura anything expect for her
spending money. The thought of going abroad again delighted her. There’d been no skiing holiday this year, no trip to the sun. All the things she’d taken for granted when she’d
been with Anthony. What the hell, who needed a husband when she could organize these luxuries herself, she thought proudly. She could arrange for her friend Miriam to come and spend the nights with
Paula. Miriam was great fun and very obliging, Paula got on well with her.

No longer down in the dumps, Helen went to phone Maura.

Eilis McNally glowered across the dance floor at Paula Matthews, who was dancing and thoroughly enjoying herself. The girl was surrounded by fellas who were all trying their
best to impress her. It was always the same at the disco. La Matthews swanned in and instantly became the centre of attention. It was very galling indeed. Who was she, only a blow-in from some
scutty little village in the back of beyonds? And yet, wherever she went, people danced attendance on her. It was the same in class. After only a few weeks, she’d become extremely popular.
The teachers thought the sun shone out of her arse. She was always to the forefront at lessons and at sport. She was a blooming good basketball player too. The basketball coach couldn’t keep
his eyes off her shapely tanned legs. Eilis often caught him ogling Paula, who always looked radiantly healthy, vibrant and athletic in her short navy sports skirt and crisp white T-shirt.
You’d think she’d been away in Spain or somewhere with that tan she’d got in the summer. Eilis always felt like a frumpy pasty-skinned dumpling beside Paula. Even tonight her
classmate looked like a model in those impossibly tight jeans, she thought enviously. Eilis, though not fat, was a good size fourteen. Never in a million years would she ever look as well as Paula
Matthews did in her jeans.

The only thing Miss Matthews was no good at was maths. She hadn’t much of a clue and generally only managed a D in her grades. It always gave Eilis enormous satisfaction when the maths
teacher read out their grades after their weekly test. Paula’s name was called directly after hers. Eilis frequently got a B and sometimes an A grade. The D sounded very poor in comparison.
Eilis made a point of smiling at Paula when the marks were read out, hoping that the other girl would feel discomfited. Paula was usually engrossed in whispering to Jennifer Myles and didn’t
even notice. Her poor maths mark didn’t seem to bother her at all, which made Eilis as mad as hell. Paula acted as though she didn’t exist. If there was one thing that did not suit
Eilis, it was being ignored. Until Paula Matthews arrived, Eilis was the Queen Bee in the class. Her crown had passed to the supremely confident, impossible-to-ignore country miss. Eilis
didn’t like it one little bit.

‘What a pathetic party,’ Paula said in disgust as Sandra O’Reilly’s boyfriend threw up half-way up the stairs on his way to the loo. ‘We
should’ve stayed at the disco!’

‘I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous,’ Beth moaned. ‘There’s nothing here only popcorn and crisps. You’d think from the way Sandra went on today,
there was going to be a banquet.’

Paula took a sip of her cider. ‘We could always split and go back home and have the ham sandwiches Helen left out for us,’ she suggested. Sandra’s party was heading for
disaster. The next-door neighbours had knocked already to complain about the loud music. A crowd of fellas who none of them knew had gatecrashed, two of them were out in the back garden puking and
the other three were drinking as much cider as they could lay their hands on. Sandra herself was pissed, conked out on the sofa, and Eilis McNally was giggling away to herself.

‘Where’s Jenny?’ Paula asked.

‘I think she’s a bit pissed, actually,’ Beth confided. ‘She’s in the kitchen drinking black coffee to try and sober herself up. She doesn’t want to make a
show of herself in your aunt’s house.’

‘For God’s sake, she only had two cans of cider.’ Paula scoffed.

‘Yeah, but she’s not used to drinking, like you are,’ Beth explained.

‘You make me sound like a hardened drinker.’ Paula grimaced. ‘Come on, let’s collect Jenny and go.’

‘Party-poopers,’ Eilis tittered. ‘Can’t stay the pace.’