Foreign Affairs (37 page)

Helen sometimes asked him in to share their evening meal. He always said how nice it was to taste home cooking as he usually ate in hotels or restaurants. Helen and he got on very well. But then
of course, they had a lot in common.

‘That smells good.’ Nick appeared at the kitchen door. She caught a whiff of his aftershave. His hair was still damp. She had a mad urge to dry it for him. Stop it! she thought
furiously. This was crazy.

‘A sandwich would have done fine. I didn’t mean you to go to so much trouble.’ He lifted a rasher off the grill and scoffed it.

‘Sit down and eat it properly,’ Paula instructed shortly. ‘You shouldn’t eat standing up.’

Nick eyed her quizzically. ‘You’re not in very good humour today,’ he remarked as she put his meal on the table in front of him. ‘Is there a reason?’

Paula sighed. ‘Sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude.’

‘Why don’t you sit down and have a cup of coffee with me and tell me what’s wrong,’ he suggested as he devoured his meal. ‘You didn’t have a row with Helen or
anything, did you?’

‘No, not with Helen. I had one with my boyfriend.’ Paula sighed again as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

‘What’s wrong with him? Or am I being nosy?’ Nick’s blue eyes stared into hers.

‘He wants me to stay in Dublin for Christmas,’ Paula said irritably. ‘And he knows I can’t. Then he had the nerve to say that’s what he got for going with a
schoolgirl,’ she exclaimed indignantly. She didn’t see the glint of amusement in Nick’s eyes, or notice the brief upward curve of his mouth in a smile he hastily banished.

‘I suppose he’s just going to miss you, that’s all,’ he said soothingly.

‘Huh!’ snorted Paula.

‘And what did you say to him?’ Nick struggled to keep his amusement under control.

‘I told him to go and find himself a grown-up girlfriend,’ Paula declared.

‘How much older is he?’ Nick took a gulp of his coffee.

‘He’s only six years older, for God’s sake. Who does he think he is? Methuselah?’

‘I suppose six years makes more of a difference because he’s working and you’re not,’ Nick murmured diplomatically.

That’s rich, thought Paula in wry amusement. Considering I’ve just discovered that I fancy
you
all of a sudden. Imagine Nick’s reaction if she told him
that
.
What was his type of woman? Paula hadn’t a clue. Since she’d come to work for him, he’d never brought a woman home as far as she knew. But then, she hadn’t been interested
enough to care. He could very well have and she just hadn’t seen any signs of it. Perhaps he was going to London to see a woman. The thought depressed her.

‘Are you doing anything for Christmas?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I don’t really like Christmas any more. My marriage broke up at Christmas, I try and ignore it these days,’ Nick said quietly.

‘I’m very sorry, Nick, I didn’t mean to pry or anything,’ Paula said hastily.

‘Of course you didn’t, Paula,’ he said briskly. ‘It was a simple straightforward question. I’ll miss you and Helen. It must be hard on her as well?’

‘Yeah,’ Paula agreed. ‘It’s times like this that bring back memories.’

‘Well she’s lucky she’s got you. And I’m lucky I’ve got you.’ Nick smiled. ‘Can I really take advantage, and leave the washing-up?’

‘Course you can. Go and do your packing. When will you be back?’

‘Thursday, I hope.’ Nick got up from the table and carried his dishes over to the sink.

‘Leave them, go on,’ Paula ordered. She could see by the clock on the cooker that he hadn’t much time left.

‘Right, thanks.’ Nick headed back upstairs to pack. By the time she had the kitchen cleaned up the taxi had arrived.

‘Paula, I’m off. Listen, give yourself a treat.’ Nick came into the kitchen and pressed a five pound note into her hand. ‘Thanks for the grub, it was a
lifesaver.’

‘I can’t take that, Nick. It was no trouble at all,’ she protested, trying to give it back to him. His hand curled around hers and he folded her fingers around the note.

‘Please, Paula,’ he insisted. She couldn’t refuse his generosity.

‘See you next Friday, then.’

‘Bye, Nick. Mind yourself, and thanks.’ Paula followed him out to the hall and stood at the door waving until the taxi was out of sight. She walked slowly upstairs to finish the
polishing.

‘Now, Paula Matthews, I’m having none of your nonsense. Get this house tidied up, go home and stop acting the maggot,’ she ordered herself. She threw her eyes up to heaven when
she caught sight of herself in the mirror, talking to herself.

Helen had kept Paula’s dinner hot for her. ‘You’re late,’ she remarked. Paula explained the reason.

‘Poor Nick, he’s always on the go. So much for cutting back,’ Helen reflected. ‘But then, he hasn’t much to come home to, has he? Oh, by the way, Barry phoned for
you. He asked me to ask you to phone him tonight.’

‘OK, thanks,’ Paula said, pretending a cheerfulness she did not feel.

‘I’m off to have a drink with some of the crowd from work. It’s the birthday of one of the reps,’ Helen announced. Paula smiled. Helen had become much more outgoing in
the last year.

‘Don’t come in tanked,’ Paula teased. ‘Have fun.’

‘I will.’ Her aunt laughed. Paula looked at her admiringly. She was wearing an elegant beige trouser-suit and a black polo-neck jumper. Her make-up was flawless. Her hair, styled in
a well-cut bob, gleamed healthily. Although she was in her thirties, she looked ten years younger.

When she’d gone, Paula took her coffee into the sitting-room and plonked herself down by the fire. She would have left Barry to stew but she was unsettled by the episode at Nick’s
house. She wanted to talk to Barry and hear him apologize for his behaviour.

‘I’m sorry, Paula, I didn’t mean what I said.’ Barry was contrite.

‘It’s OK, Barry. I have the house to myself. Helen’s gone for a drink. Do you want to come over?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ her boyfriend said eagerly.

‘Barry,’ she said softly, ‘bring a few Frenchies.’ There was a stunned silence.

‘Are you sure? It’s not because I called you a schoolgirl, is it?’ Barry asked, incredulously. He’d been trying to get her to sleep with him for months.

‘No, Barry, it’s not,’ Paula said firmly. ‘I want to, that’s why.’

‘See you as quick as I can,’ Barry said, laughing.

Paula flew upstairs and had a quick shower. She slathered herself in body lotion, and applied some perfume to her pulse spots. Then she slipped on a silky négligé that she’d
bought with such an occasion in mind. Why had she decided that tonight was the night for herself and Barry? The image of a pair of dark blue eyes, and the memory of a strong hand curled around her
own, came unbidden to her mind. Was it because of what she’d felt this evening? Paula sat in front of her dressing-table and brushed her hair. It had been
her
decision to date Conor
and sleep with him.
She
decided to date Barry. Now it was her choice to become his lover.
She
was in control. Nick Russell was most definitely not on her agenda. That could be
very dangerous ground indeed. The doorbell rang. Calmly, she drew her négligé around her and walked downstairs.

Barry was no Conor Harrison. This time Paula was not disappointed. Barry was an experienced lover. They’d had many steamy passionate encounters on their dates but this time there was no
frustrating, unsatisfactory ending to their lovemaking. They kissed and caressed each other with mounting excitement and need. Barry teased her to the peak of desire before he finally entered her
and, slowly and sensually, brought her to a long shuddering climax.

That night, in bed, in the dark, Paula was pleased with herself. It had been so different from her first time.
Now
she knew what all the mystery was about. It had been the most
pleasurable experience of her life. There’d be many more of them, she knew. Barry was crazy about her. While he was making love to her he’d told her over and over again that she was
sensational. He wanted them to go away for a weekend together so that he could have her all to himself. They’d spend the whole time in bed, he promised. Paula stretched like a cat in the warm
cocoon of her bed. The idea certainly appealed to her. She wanted more. She could tell Helen she was going away with the girls on a school trip. Or say she was going on a residential retreat. Or
even to an inter-county basketball event that would take up a whole weekend. There were plenty of excuses to go away for a weekend. Helen had no reason to doubt her. Paula didn’t want to
deceive her aunt. Of course not. But the less Helen had to worry about the better. Paula had to lead her own life. She wasn’t a child any more. Everyone had to grow up sometime, Paula assured
herself. Helen had had to. Maybe she might not have slept with Anthony, but she’d defied her father to be with him. Paula was defying no-one. Times had changed, that was all. If that meant
telling a few fibs to prevent Helen from worrying, it couldn’t be helped.

Chapter Thirty-Three

‘Paula Matthews has to report to Mother Andrew at the end of class,’ a breathless first year student told Miss McGrath at the door of the classroom.

‘You heard that, Paula?’ Miss McGrath, the history teacher, turned to Paula, who was sitting in the first seat of the row nearest the door.

‘Yes, Miss McGrath,’ Paula said politely, wondering what the hell was going on. Mother Andrew, or Andy as she was irreverently referred to behind her back, was the headmistress of St
Theresa’s. A summons to her office was extremely rare and usually serious. If it had been urgent, she would have been summoned immediately. But she’d been instructed to wait until the
end of class, it obviously wasn’t drastically serious.

What could Andy want her for? A thought struck her. When the Leaving Cert exam was over, St Theresa’s usually held an open day for the new pupils coming the following September. Parents
came too, and afternoon tea was served in the big refectory. Before tea, speeches were made, one of them by a sixth year student. The sixth year student selected for this important task was usually
the girl the nuns were most proud of. It was considered a great honour. Paula smiled. Obviously she was being chosen this year. That wasn’t a great surprise to her. She knew she was a good
all rounder. Diligent at her studies, good at games, and very popular with staff and students alike. Just the type of pupil needed to make an excellent impression on new students and their
parents.

Paula sat up straight and nicked back her hair. It was flattering to be selected all the same. After all, she’d only arrived at the school in her Inter Cert year. She was looking forward
to her interview with the headmistress. She would do the school proud as the sixth year representative.

Eilis McNally felt a little tingle of excitement as she heard the message being relayed to Paula Matthews. Ms-Mega-Confident-Smarty-Pants was about to come tumbling down off
her throne. About time too. Paula had been a thorn in her side these past few years. Not any more, ha, ha. Eilis smirked. Not after Mother Andrew had finished with her. How she’d love to be a
fly on the wall at
that
interview.

It was so near the Leaving too, only a couple of weeks to go. Perhaps Paula would be expelled. That would be glorious! Even if she wasn’t, the trauma of what she was about to endure would
throw her off her stroke. Hopefully, she’d do really badly in her exams. Eilis cast a furtive glance in Paula’s direction.

It was incredible, Eilis scowled. Her classmate didn’t look the slightest bit concerned about her forthcoming interview with the headmistress.

‘What do you have to say about this, Paula?’ Mother Andrew said icily. She handed Paula a photograph. Paula took it, looked at it, and was stunned.

It was a colour photograph of her in her games gear being kissed by Barry beside his car. The idiot! she thought furiously. She remembered that day. It was after a basketball match at St
Maria’s. He’d given her a lift home so she hadn’t bothered to change. Usually Jennifer and some of the others were with them. Barry often gave the girls a lift after a match. But
Jennifer was off with the flu that day and he hadn’t said anything to any of the others. He’d parked down a lane by the school. And as she’d been putting her gear in the boot,
he’d leaned in and kissed her and stroked the inside of her thigh at the same time. Paula laughed and enjoyed it, and they’d gone back to his flat and made love.

They were usually very careful and discreet. Only Jennifer and Beth knew of the affair. Or so Paula had thought. Obviously someone else had copped it. But who and why this? She looked at the
photo again and handed it back to Mother Andrew. Stay calm, she warned herself.

‘Well!’ demanded the headmistress. ‘What do you have to say about this? You don’t deny that it’s you?’

‘Of course not, Mother,’ Paula said coolly.

‘Kissing Mr Keating!’

‘Yes, he gave me a lift after the match,’ Paula stated matter-of-factly. ‘He was glad I scored the winning point.’

‘And so he
kissed
you? And
groped
you?’ Mother Andrew said incredulously.

‘Barry is my boyfriend, Mother. He has never . . . groped . . . me. And I object to having to stand here discussing this. My private life is just that . . . private,’ Paula said
firmly but politely. Mother Andrew’s jaw dropped gratifyingly. She was momentarily speechless. She stared at Paula, horrified.

‘Are you telling me that a member of my staff is dating one of my pupils? This is outrageous! Wait until your aunt hears of this, Miss.’ She was purple with anger.

‘My aunt is very fond of Barry, Mother, he’s often at our house,’ said Paula, the wide-eyed innocent. As if to say, so what’s the big deal?

‘Mrs Larkin knows you are seeing one of your teachers? A man very much older than you, and she condones it?’ Mother Andrew said in disbelief.

‘Six years is hardly anything, Mother. My aunt has no objections at all. She’s a very sensible woman. As I said, she’s very fond of him.’ Her tone was calm. She was
perfectly composed. Her implication was that Mother Andrew was wildly over-reacting. Let Andy phone Helen. Paula had nothing to fear. She almost hoped that the headmistress would do so. It was all
totally ridiculous really. Paula could see that Mother Andrew was completely taken aback by her attitude. She’d probably expected her to start stuttering and stammering and so on. No chance,
Paula thought. She certainly wasn’t going to be invited to make the open day speech now.