Foreign Affairs (39 page)

‘I’m not upset, really,’ she murmured. She wanted to say, I won’t have a new man. I don’t want a new man. I just want
you
. The phone rang, its shrill
intrusive ringing shattering her precious moment. Paula cursed it from the bottom of her heart.

‘Who’s this?’ Nick threw his eyes up to heaven. He went to the hall to answer the call. Paula sipped her coffee. If Nick was going to fall for her, he was going to have to see
her as more than an immature eighteen-year-old. Maybe when she went to college he might realize that she was finally grown-up. In a way it was a drawback him knowing her since she was a schoolgirl.
It was an obstacle that would have to be overcome.

‘That was Killian Scott.’ Nick ran his hand over his shadowed jaw. ‘He wants me to go and play a game of squash.’ He sat at the table and tried but failed to suppress a
yawn. Paula’s heart went out to him. How she longed to put her arms around him and tell him to forget about going to play squash and come upstairs to bed with her and she would make him
forget his tiredness.

‘Don’t go if you’re tired, Nick.’ She refilled his coffee cup.

‘Ah, I might as well. Once I start playing, I’ll be fine. I need to keep fit anyway.’ Nick shrugged. ‘I won’t be here for the next three weeks. I’m off to
Africa, so don’t worry about shopping. And I’ll be thinking of you when the exams start.’ He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up at the sides, and she felt like crying.
She’d hardly see him again before going home, if he was going to Africa for three weeks.

‘Mind yourself in Africa,’ Paula admonished.

‘And you mind yourself. And good luck tonight,’ Nick responded. He walked out to the front door with her.

‘See you,’ she said glumly.

‘Cheer up, Paula. The exams will be over soon, and there’s lots of other fish in the sea. The men of Waterford will be queuing up to date you,’ he said encouragingly.
Impulsively she turned and leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

‘Thanks, Nick, you’re the best.’

‘You’re welcome, Mrs Mops,’ Nick said affectionately and then the damned phone rang again and he waved at her before he went to answer it.

He’d said she’d get over Barry, Paula mused as she ran a comb through her hair and put on some lipstick ten minutes later. If only he knew. Having Nick’s arm around her had
been exquisite. She’d felt utterly cherished. It was the nicest feeling she’d ever had in her life. She wanted more.

‘I’ve said I’m sorry, Paula. I was up the walls. I’ll only be here for another few weeks. Don’t be mean,’ Barry said angrily. She had just
told him that this was their last date and he couldn’t believe his ears.

‘Barry, even if you weren’t going to Australia I’d still be breaking it off,’ Paula said coolly.

‘But why? We’ve had rows before.’ Barry couldn’t figure it out.

‘It’s nothing to do with rows, although you were pretty nasty.’ Paula’s tone was tart.

‘Well, what’s it got to do with?’ he demanded.

‘Let’s just leave it, Barry,’ Paula said wearily.

‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’

Paula said nothing.

‘Isn’t there?’ he said angrily.

‘Barry, we had an affair. It was nice while it lasted, we had fun. Let’s go our separate ways and have happy memories to look back on. Don’t ruin it by arguing,’ Paula
said quietly.

‘But I still want you,’ he protested. ‘Paula, please, come on, let’s go back to the flat and make love. I miss you,’ he said huskily.

‘No, Barry. Even if it wasn’t over, I’ve got to go home and study. I’ve got the Leaving coming up. You know that.’

‘Oh for God’s sake! You’ll walk the Leaving.’ Barry glowered.

‘I’m going, Barry.’ Paula stood up and looked down at him. ‘I wish you all the best in Australia. I’m sorry Eilis McNally was such a cow. Take care.’ She
leaned down, kissed him lightly on the cheek and turned and walked out of the pub.

Barry watched her go. He knew there was no point in going after her. Once Paula made up her mind about something that was it. Nothing would sway her. There was someone else involved. There must
be. Why else would she go cold on him? Sex had always been great between them. But earlier, when he’d tried to kiss her, she’d been unresponsive and unloving.

Barry was most put out. No girl had ever broken it off with him before. He’d always done the ditching. But that was Paula. He scowled. He wouldn’t have minded a lusty couple of hours
with her. He’d been counting on it. He was as horny as hell and when he’d seen her in her tight jeans and skimpy T-shirt he could have jumped on her there and then. Paula had the
sexiest body he’d ever seen. He loved watching her play basketball in her tiny navy skirt and white top. It always turned him on. Paula had no inhibitions. She enjoyed lovemaking. Whoever she
was interested in now was a lucky bastard, he thought sourly as he went to the bar and ordered another pint. Drowning his sorrows was his only option tonight.

Nick drove home from the fitness centre where he’d played a vigorous game of squash with his friend. He was glad he’d gone. He felt invigorated. And once he’d
got on the court he’d enjoyed it. It cleared his mind. God knows he’d need a sharp mind for his trip to Africa. One of his engineers had made a mighty cock-up of one of their projects.
He was going out to sort it out. Whatever Jeffrey Dean had had his mind on, it hadn’t been his job.

A woman was involved, according to Larry Andrews, Nick’s manager. Seemingly Jeffrey was involved with a married woman and there’d been high drama when the cuckolded husband had found
out. Nick’s mouth tightened into a grim line. He’d been a cuckolded husband once himself. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy. Even now the memory of walking in on Eleanor, his
wife, and Neil, his best mate, and finding them in bed together caused pain. If it had been anyone but Neil, he might have forgiven her. But he couldn’t cope with it being Neil.

They’d been childhood friends. They’d grown up together and sown their wild oats together. Neil was closer to him than a brother. Neil had been best man at his wedding. Nick gave a
wry smile. What a wedding that had been. A party to beat all parties. He’d married too young. He’d fallen hard for Eleanor with her dark sultry looks and come-to-bed eyes. The more she
kept him at a distance the more he wanted her. He’d been besotted. And he’d wooed her like no woman had ever been wooed before.

The first few years of their marriage had been happy, but gradually she got bored. She needed new challenges and adventures and he was too busy trying to get the business up and running to see
it. Neil had been a challenge. Neil with his sense of fun and spontaneity. He had always been the extrovert one, Nick the calmer, quieter one of the two.

Eleanor had dropped Neil soon after Nick had discovered their affair. She’d begged him to take her back, but he was too gutted. Every time he looked at her, he saw Neil. She had destroyed
their marriage and a friendship he’d valued more than anything. There was no future for them. He’d gone to Africa and worked like a man possessed trying to get the poison out of his
system. Nick sighed. It was gone, more or less, he supposed. He’d got over the worst of it. But it was lonely going into an empty house at night, he reflected as he turned up the drive. He
could see Paula’s light still on in her bedroom. Poor Paula, he thought affectionately. Young love seemed such a serious thing at the time. If she had any sense she’d steer away from
steady relationships for a few years and have some fun for herself. She was a great girl. He smiled as he switched off the engine. He’d been a bit worried about taking her on to clean for
him. Most teenagers were far more interested in blokes and make-up and giggly chats with their friends than polishing and hoovering and keeping a house clean. But she had surprised him. She kept
the place like a new pin and was so dependable. There was always food in the fridge, and she went to some trouble to buy the things he liked. He enjoyed coming home the nights she cleaned. It was
nice to see the lights on in the house and to know that there was fresh coffee waiting for him. He’d miss her this summer. And after she was finished in college next year, she’d be gone
for good, and he’d have to get someone else. He’d miss his bouncy little Mrs Mops. He’d buy her something really special in Africa this time, Nick decided. A nice piece of
jewellery. Just to show that he really appreciated her.

‘Oh Nick, it’s beautiful! Oh Nick, thank you.’ Paula flung her arms around him and kissed him on the jaw. He hugged her back, pleased with her reaction.

‘I thought you were a bit down in the dumps when I was leaving and I just wanted to say thank you for the way you’ve looked after me. You’re the best Mrs Mops in the
world,’ Nick teased.

Paula fingered the delicate filigree gold bracelet with its exquisite mother-of-pearl stones and felt indescribably happy. I love you, I love you, I love you, she wanted to shout. She looked
into his smiling blue eyes, still bluer against the deep tan he’d acquired in Africa, and wished the moment would go on for ever.

‘You’re easy to look after, Nick,’ was all she could say, she was so moved by his gift.

That night, Paula sat in her bedroom gazing at her bracelet. To think that Nick had bought her such a personal gift. Not the perfume and chocolates he usually bought. It gave her immense hope.
What she felt for Nick was totally different to anything she’d ever experienced before. Normally, she was extremely confident in her dealings with men. She knew she was intelligent and
attractive. She knew men were drawn to her. When she was interested in someone, she let them know. But it wasn’t like that with Nick. She wanted him to make the first move. It was important
to her that he did. What she wanted from Nick was something far more precious than a flirty affair. Buying the bracelet for her was a big step, Paula thought happily. Things could only get better.
Maybe when she came back to Dublin after the summer their relationship would develop. It was her dearest wish.

It had been the longest summer of her life. St Margaret’s Bay had been deadly dull. In desperation she’d even gone out with the assistant manager of the hotel. But
it had been a very half-hearted affair. She’d hardly let him kiss her. All Paula could think about was Nick. She couldn’t wait to get back to Dublin.

When she arrived back in Dublin she was deeply shocked to hear from Helen that he’d had to go to Africa again. This time he’d be away for six months. He wouldn’t be home until
the end of January. He’d asked Helen to ask Paula to carry on looking after the house and, thoughtfully, he’d arranged for a standing order to be paid into her bank account.

He arrived home smothering with the flu, which he’d got in London on his way back from Africa.

‘For God’s sake, Nick, go to bed, this minute,’ Paula urged as she put her hand against his forehead and felt him burning with fever. She’d been waiting for him to arrive
home and had a fire lighting and a meal prepared.

‘Paula, I’m sorry I can’t eat the lovely meal you went to so much trouble to cook. This thing just hit me out of the blue and it’s knocked me out,’ he apologized.
She could hear the hoarseness in his voice.

‘Just go to bed, I’ll make you a hot whiskey,’ she said, taking his coat from him.

‘It’s good to be home, Mrs Mops.’ He smiled at her. But he looked grey and exhausted beneath his tan.

‘Bed!’ Paula ordered.

She heard him moving around upstairs as she boiled the kettle for the hot drink. ‘I’m just going into Helen to get some cloves,’ she called.

‘Poor Nick,’ Helen exclaimed when she heard the news. ‘I suppose coming from such a hot climate to London, in the middle of winter, didn’t help. Have you got a
lemon?’

‘Yep.’ Paula was anxious to get back in to her darling Nick.

‘Hold on until I see if I have anything in the medicine box that might help,’ Helen instructed. Paula tried to quell her impatience as her aunt rummaged around in the bathroom. What
rotten luck for Nick to arrive home with the flu.

‘Here’s some Asprin, they’re good for a flu.’ Helen handed her the packet. ‘I thought I had some Lemsips but I couldn’t find them.’

‘I’ll make him a hot whiskey,’ Paula assured her. ‘We can call a doctor tomorrow if he’s no better.’ She hurried back next door and put a clove into the
glass, sliced a lemon, added a good measure of whiskey and a spoon of brown sugar and topped it up with the boiled water.

There wasn’t a sound from Nick’s room when she knocked on the half-open door. She peered in and saw in dismay that he was already asleep. Paula put the hot whiskey and a glass of
water on his bedside table and stood gazing down at him. He lay with just a sheet flung over him. Against its pristine whiteness he was deeply tanned. Paula devoured the sight of him. How fit he
was, the lean flat plane of his stomach hadn’t a hint of weight. She longed to trace her fingers through the dark hair on his chest that tapered tantalizingly down to a thin dark line along
his abdomen and disappeared under the sheet. She wondered if he was naked. Paula felt the heat of desire and bit her lip hard. She’d missed him so much. She’d dreamed of making love to
him many times in the warm humid nights of the summer when she’d lain in bed frustrated and aroused by her erotic fantasies. She wanted to kiss and caress and arouse him and make him desire
her the way she desired him.

Very gently she reached out and shook him softly, her fingers lingering against the hardness of his shoulder, the palm of her hand resting against the rough hair on his chest.

‘Nick, I’ve brought you a hot drink and some Asprin.’

His eyes flickered open. He looked at her feverishly.

‘Sit up, Nick, and take these.’ Paula held out the tablets. Nick hauled himself up against the pillows and swallowed them obediently. She handed him the glass of water and he took a
gulp of it.

‘Here’s your hot whiskey.’

‘Mrs Mops turns into Florence Nightingale,’ Nick said hoarsely and she laughed.

‘Thanks, Paula, I’d be lost without you.’ He took a few sips of the drink and handed it back to her. He could hardly keep his eyes open.