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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

BOOK: Foreign Affairs
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‘Yeah, Bren. Wait until he sees you. He won’t be able to take his eyes off you. The pair of you have to follow me and Kenny on the dance floor. It could be the moment when it’s
all on again. Oh Brenda, I’d love if that happened,’ Kathy said and Brenda knew she really meant it.

‘Me too. Oh me too, Kathy, ’cos I still love that guy,’ she whispered.

‘Ah Brenda,’ Kathy hugged her close, full of sympathy. ‘Don’t worry, you’re going to look like a million dollars. Eddie won’t know what’s hit him.
You’ll see,’ Kathy declared happily, pleased that Brenda was beginning to look forward to the wedding at last. It was extremely awkward having Eddie for best man but he was
Kenny’s best friend. All the same it was difficult not to take sides and, being fiercely loyal to her friend, Kathy rather felt that Eddie had behaved like a cad.

‘You know what I was thinking?’ Brenda smiled. ‘I might get highlights in my hair. After all, if my mother can do it, I can.’ She laughed. ‘That’s what
I’ll do. I’ll get my hair highlighted. I’ll go on a diet, I’ve been pigging out so much I’ve put on a stone. It will be a new me,’ she said excitedly.
‘Eddie Fagan, look out for dynamite.’

Happy for the first time since that dreadful evening when Eddie had broken it off with her, Brenda felt a surge of energy. ‘Let’s pick out your veil, and then we can go look at
shoes,’ she suggested effervescently.

‘God Bren, I’m whacked,’ Kathy grimaced. ‘Let’s go and have something to eat first.’

‘Oh yes! Good thinking. I’m starving,’ Brenda agreed happily.

Chapter Forty-One

‘Brenda, can you meet me after work? I need to talk to you.’ Kathy sounded a bit tense.

‘What’s wrong?’ Brenda queried, keeping a wary eye on the supervisor. Miss Powers lived up to her name. She was power mad and a right old cow with it.

‘Can’t talk now. I should be back at my desk,’ Kathy said hastily. ‘Meet me in the Abbey Mooney at five-fifteen.’

‘OK,’ Brenda said cheerfully. ‘Is everything all right? Kenny isn’t chickening out, is he?’

‘Naw!’ she heard her friend chuckle.

Brenda watched Bugs Bunny Powers stalk towards her. Oh shit, she thought furiously. Now she was in for an ear-bashing. Brenda hated Miss Powers’s guts and the feeling was mutual.

It was the view of all twelve punch card operators whom Hilda Powers supervised from nine until five, Monday to Friday, that she was a frustrated, malicious old spinster. She was in her early
forties, and lived with her ageing mother in Terenure. She drove a black Morris Minor of which she was inordinately proud.

Miss Hilda Powers lived for her work. The County Council was the be-all and end-all of her existence. It was an honour to be employed by them and complete loyalty was the very least she could
offer. Hilda Powers’s life was dedicated to running her small kingdom in an office block at the back of Parnell Square. She was a very conscientious worker. She expected nothing less from her
minions. Hilda was a tall gangly string of a woman with lank thin black hair that fell untidily over her face. She had a long sharp nose and two slightly protruding front teeth. Her nickname, Bugs
Bunny Powers, actually suited her. Like the cartoon character, Hilda spoke in a fast twittering high-pitched tone and sarcasm was second nature to her.

‘Miss Myles,’ she said in her nasal twang. ‘It would match you better, Miss Myles, if you attended to your duties with the same fervour you devote to arranging your social
life. You have been told before, Miss Myles, that phone calls are not to be encouraged unless it is something of the utmost importance. This is your second phone call this afternoon. It is a phone
call too many. Now kindly get back to your machine and get on with your work immediately. You may deduct five minutes from your afternoon tea-break, to make up for lost time.’

For God’s sake! Brenda fumed. What a prize bitch. Imagine having to work in this office with that bossy old bat for the next heaven knows how many years. It was an unbearable thought. She
didn’t even like the job, she thought glumly as she walked reluctantly back to her machine. It was dead boring!

She sat at her big bulky machine and stacked her cards in position and switched it on. The clickety-clack of it was enough to drive anyone mad, she thought sourly as the cards fed through
automatically. She was dealing with water rates and if it wasn’t for the rest of the girls and the laughs they had, Brenda would have died from boredom.

Last month she’d made a bad mistake. She and another girl had been sending out the bills. The other girl had punched in the wrong code. Brenda hadn’t noticed and had verified it and
all the bills had gone out with the wrong information. There were ructions, when angry rate-payers phoned to query the mistakes. Miss Powers was nearly apoplectic. Her face went red, then purple,
then white as she laced into them and told them what she thought of them and their work. How
dared
they make a show of her and her section? After that, she kept a very strict eye on them
and Brenda was finding it very hard to keep a civil tongue in her head and not let the sarky bitch have it. She hated being made a show of in front of the other girls, but they assured her that
Miss Powers was always like that. She’d start picking on someone else, one of these days.

Brenda sighed deeply. How she had longed to get this job. She’d thought it would change her life dramatically. Well maybe it had, she thought ruefully. She was now a slave of the County
Council, at the mercy of Hitler Powers. If some man didn’t come and rescue her and marry her, a slave she was likely to stay. It was a thought that depressed her hugely at times. But then
there were other times, when she was out dancing on Saturday night, or away hostelling, or on a spending spree, when she decided that it was great having her own money. She could spend it on what
she liked. Maybe if she left the County Council and got another job, she’d feel happier, Brenda mused as her cards jammed in the machine and her supervisor gave a squawk of displeasure.

By five p.m. Brenda was ready for the loony bin. She’d made a mistake with her codes and had to redo the work and, what was even worse, hand-punch it in. Miss Powers was not pleased and
called her an incompetent, careless worker. Only the sympathetic grins of her co-workers kept her going.

At least she had her date with Kathy in the Abbey Mooney to look forward to. Maybe they would go for a meal before going home. She’d have to ring her mother to say she was going to be
late. Kit always insisted on knowing if she was going home for dinner or not. She went mad if Brenda didn’t let her know and a dinner was wasted.

‘That’s fine, Brenda,’ her mother said when Brenda phoned her. ‘I’ll leave the dinner in the pot. It’s stew, so you can heat it up.’ Glad that it had
been no big deal, Brenda went to the ladies, retouched her makeup, brushed her hair and set off jauntily down towards O’Connell Street.

It was a beautiful spring evening. Birdsong filled the air, even over the noise of the cars and buses. Passing the Gresham Hotel, Brenda could see the decorative flower boxes bursting with
pansies and crocuses and lovely cheerful yellow daffodils. It had been a long dark cold winter. Now that summer was in the air, she felt light-hearted and optimistic. Only two months to the
wedding. Two months to having Eddie’s arms around her. Two months to being his girl again. If all went well.

And it will go well, she vowed as she passed the Savoy Cinema, scene of many a happy outing with Eddie. She quickened her footsteps. Kathy worked five minutes away from the Abbey Mooney and
Brenda didn’t want to keep her waiting in a pub by herself for long. Last week, when she was in the Parnell Mooney waiting to meet her cousin Pamela, a man sat down beside her and started
chatting her up and making really personal remarks about what a sexy figure she had. She’d nearly died when he’d told her that she’d a great pair of knockers. Mortified,
she’d stood up and walked outside. She would have loved to have the nerve to pour his pint all over him. Why did he feel he had the right to sit down beside her and start harassing her like
that? She’d given him no encouragement. In fact, she’d tried to be as inconspicuous as possible behind her magazine because she wasn’t too comfortable sitting in a pub on her
own.

When you were going with a fella, you never had to worry about things like that, she reflected as she passed Clerys and paused for a quick look in the window at the spring fashions. A delightful
floral sundress caught her eye. It would look lovely with a tan, Brenda thought. Maybe on pay-day she’d treat herself.

She found Kathy at a table near the door and plonked herself down beside her.

‘Hiya,’ Brenda greeted her best friend cheerfully. ‘What are you having to drink?’

‘I’m fine,’ Kathy assured her. ‘I’ll get it. A Bacardi and Coke as usual?’ She arched a neatly shaped eyebrow.

‘Lovely.’ Brenda settled into her chair, all ready to enjoy a good chat. The afternoon at work with all its difficulties seemed very far away.

‘Well? What’s happening?’ She smiled at Kathy when her friend returned and handed her the drink. Kathy sat down opposite her. She didn’t look very happy, Brenda
noticed.

‘Is something wrong, Kathy?’ she asked, concerned. The other girl gave a heavy sigh.

‘Brenda, this is very awkward . . .’ she started. Brenda felt a little jolt of dismay.

‘It’s OK,’ she said hastily, ‘if Evelyn wants to be your matron-of-honour after all. I know you can’t afford three bridesmaids.’ Evelyn was Kathy’s
married sister, she had a right to expect to be with her sister on the altar, Brenda thought glumly. But she did feel disappointed. She’d been looking forward like mad to wearing her fabulous
chiffon dress. She’d had a first fitting already and it looked as if it was going to be gorgeous.

‘No, no, no,’ Kathy assured her quickly. ‘It’s nothing like that at all. Of course you’re going to be my bridesmaid. Evelyn doesn’t mind at all. Actually
she’s quite relieved. She doesn’t like churches, she’d panic up at the altar. Or faint!’

‘What’s wrong then?’

‘Oh Brenda, it’s that Eddie.’ Kathy frowned.

‘What’s wrong with him. Doesn’t he want to be best man?’ Brenda asked dismayed.

‘No, it’s not that.’ Kathy paused and took a deep breath. ‘The truth is, Brenda, he asked Kenny last night if he could invite someone to the wedding with him. He’s
started going with someone else.’

Brenda stared at her friend. ‘Eddie’s going with someone else!’ she repeated, utterly shocked.

‘I’m sorry, Bren,’ Kathy said gently, leaning over to give her hand a squeeze. ‘If it was up to me I’d tell Eddie where to get off and not bother his arse coming to
the wedding, but I can’t. He’s Kenny’s best friend, just like you’re mine.’

Brenda sat numb as all her great plans for the
rapprochement
crumbled to dust.

Eddie was seeing another girl. She couldn’t take it in. It was unbelievable.

‘Who is she?’ she asked unhappily.

‘Someone from work,’ Kathy answered. ‘Look, Bren, what you’ve got to do is pretend you don’t give a shit at the wedding. Don’t let him see that you care. Why
don’t you go and ask someone yourself? Two can play at his game, you know.’

‘Who could I ask? I don’t know anyone,’ she replied dully.

‘Oh come on, Bren, there must be someone. What about that fella Shay you were telling me about, that you think fancies you?’ Kathy urged.

‘Oh Kathy.’ Brenda burst into tears. ‘I don’t want to go with anyone else. I just want to go with Eddie. Why is this happening? How can he go with someone else?
Don’t I mean anything to him? Maybe I shouldn’t have given in and slept with him. Maybe he doesn’t respect me.’ She wept, oblivious to the stares of the other customers.

‘Sshh, of course it isn’t that. Maybe you’re better off without him,’ Kathy murmured, pink-cheeked.

‘How would you like it if I said you’d be better off without Kenny?’ Brenda sobbed.

‘I . . . I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, Brenda,’ Kathy said, flustered. ‘Come on, stop crying. People are looking.’

‘Let them look, I don’t care,’ Brenda hiccuped. This was almost as bad as the night Eddie had broken it off with her.

‘Come on, Bren, let’s go home,’ Kathy suggested.

‘I think I’ll get pissed,’ Brenda announced.

‘You will not! Eddie Fagan’s not worth a hangover three days before pay-day,’ her friend said firmly. ‘If you want another drink I’ll get you one and then
we’re going home.’

‘Let’s go home now.’ Brenda stood up. ‘I’ve had enough for one day to last me a lifetime.’

An hour later she was at home sitting in front of a plate of stew. As soon as her mother left the kitchen she chucked it all into the fire.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jennifer enquired from the other end of the table.

‘Eddie’s going with someone else. He wants to bring her to the wedding.’ Brenda’s voice wobbled.

‘Ah Bren, will you forget about him? I saw him the other day with a girl and I can tell you one thing. He’s not moping around wasting his life thinking about you,’ her sister
said crossly.

‘You saw her! When? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Brenda was horrified.

‘What was the point?’ Jennifer said in exasperation. ‘Will you get it into your head that it’s over and you’re not doing yourself any favours by pining over
him.’

‘How would you know what it’s like, you’ve never even gone out with a fella,’ Brenda retorted cruelly.

‘Watching you was enough to put me off,’ Jennifer riposted.

‘Bitch.’ Brenda scowled.

‘Sorry, Brenda.’ Her sister was instantly contrite. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d be hurt.’

‘Thanks. What did she look like?’

‘Pretty ordinary.’

‘Yeah but was she fat or thin? What colour was her hair?’ Brenda had to torture herself with the gory details.

‘Brenda,’ Jennifer said patiently. ‘I didn’t stare, it would have been rude, but as far as I can remember she had fair hair, she had a nice figure and that’s all I
can tell you.’

Brenda digested this information as her heart sank like lead.

‘I suppose you wouldn’t go to the shop for me and get me some chocolate?’

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