Two For Joy (40 page)

‘Aren't you happy, Noreen?' Rajiv asked forthrightly as he followed her up the stairs.

She gave a deep sigh, ‘I'd be lying if I said I was, Rajiv,' she answered candidly. ‘We're going through a bit of a rocky patch at the moment.'

‘So soon into the marriage. That's a shame. Is it something that can be sorted?'

‘Well, you're a man, Rajiv, maybe you could give me an idea of what's going on in Oliver's head, because I'm at my wits' end,' she confessed. ‘Go and sit down and I'll get us a drink. How about a brandy? I brought Kay a bottle, she won't mind,' Noreen said recklessly. It was such a treat to have a good conversation with a man again. Oliver and she hardly talked any more and until she'd come on holiday she hadn't realized how lonely she was.

‘We are being impulsive aren't we?' Rajiv chuckled. ‘If my staff could see me they wouldn't believe it. And my wife would tell me I was being lazy and intemperate.'

‘Ah, we only live once.' Noreen took two brandy goblets out of a cabinet and poured two generous measures. Life was for sharing. If she was at home in Kilronan she'd be coming home from afternoon surgery to an empty house. The thought of going home to her lonely existence made her feel unhappy.

Three brandies later, she was feeling no pain and she'd opened her heart to Rajiv. He was a good listener; he was like Oliver in that way, she thought sadly, as her friend stood up to go. ‘I had a lovely, lovely time, Rajiv.' She hugged him warmly. ‘You're a dear, dear friend.' He smiled down at her.

‘Now I'll really miss you. It was so nice spending time with you. You made me feel young again.'

‘Oh Rajiv, you
are
young. I told you, fifty's nothing.' Noreen cupped his face in her hands, her expression earnest. ‘You should believe me.' They looked at each other.

‘I want to kiss you, Noreen,' Rajiv whispered. It seemed so long since any affection had come her way, and the tenderness in his eyes was such a balm to her she raised her lips to his and felt his arms tighten around her. The whole taste and texture of him was so different from Oliver, she thought fleetingly, his desire for her a welcome affirmation that she was still an attractive, desirable woman. The loneliness and worry of the past few months seemed like a bad dream as she returned Rajiv's kisses with brandy-induced abandon. Casting inhibitions and guilt to the wind, she took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom.

I deserve this,
she thought woozily.
Because Oliver abandoned me.

Rajiv was a kind and considerate lover, and afterwards as she lay in his arms, drowsy and sated, she refused to entertain any thoughts of guilt. Thoughts of this interlude with Rajiv would keep her going through the difficult times.

‘I think we were a little drunk.' Rajiv stroked her cheek.

‘I don't care, Rajiv. I'll always remember this day.' Noreen smiled at him. ‘It was special and lovely and I'm glad we had it. I'm going home in two days' time, I'll have a precious memory to bring with me.'

‘I'd better go, Noreen. Kay would get an awful shock if she arrived home and saw us like this.'

Noreen groaned. ‘How am I going to explain all the brandy that's gone? I better run out and get a bottle somewhere.'

Rajiv jumped out of bed. ‘I know an offie not far from here. I'll go. I won't be long. It's only eight thirty. Kay won't be home for a little while yet,' he offered.

‘Are you sure?'

‘Of course I'm sure, Noreen. I'd do anything for you. You made me feel alive again.' He smiled, his teeth very white against his smooth olive skin. She watched him dress. It had helped that he was so different to Oliver. Shorter, stockier, his chest smooth and satiny compared to Oliver's hairy chest. His silky black hair, sprinkled with grey, not at all like Oliver's tight-cut brown hair. Rajiv was a soft, kind man, with none of Oliver's hard strength. They couldn't be more unlike.

‘I'd better get dressed and make the bed,' she said drowsily. She would have liked to stay in bed for the rest of the night, but Kay would worry that there was something wrong with her. By the time Rajiv got back with the brandy she'd showered and was dressed in a tracksuit.

‘I won't stay, dear friend.' He kissed her hand. ‘Thank you for everything.'

‘No, Rajiv, thank
you.
' Noreen kissed him tenderly. ‘You'll never know what comfort you gave my spirit.'

‘And a beautiful spirit it is, too. Try to be happy,' he said kindly, before closing the door behind him.

Noreen replaced the bottle of brandy in Kay's drink's cabinet and wrapped the well-depleted bottle they'd been drinking from in a towel in her case. Her behaviour this afternoon had been totally out of character, she acknowledged with a bashful grin as she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her eyes betraying the amount she'd had to drink. After she'd remade her bed, she made herself a strong cup of coffee to help counteract the effects of the brandy.

‘I'm bushed,' Kay announced when she got home. ‘We never stopped all day. Would you mind if we rang for a takeaway tonight, Noreen? I don't think my feet are up to going out.'

‘I don't mind at all, Kay, as long as it's not an Indian,' she laughed.

‘We'll have Chinese, the one that delivers to me does chow mein to die for,' Kay informed her as she kicked off her shoes and sank on to the sofa. ‘Well, what was the rest of your day like? What did you do with yourself?'

‘I had a perfectly lovely time,' Noreen said truthfully, and began to give an edited version of her doings.

That night as she lay in bed, woozy again after another bottle of wine with Kay, she hugged her precious memories to her, replaying them in her mind. Oliver had not phoned once while she was away and she hadn't phoned him, angry with him that he couldn't be bothered to contact her. Her infidelity was his fault, she rationalized sleepily. If he had looked after her properly, emotionally, she would never have ended up in bed with Rajiv. And she wasn't sorry she had either, she thought crossly. Rajiv had made her feel like a
wanted
woman. Not someone to be endured. She fell asleep and slept like a log.

Forty-eight hours later she sat on the plane winging its way to Dublin and wished she could have stayed in London longer. She'd enjoyed herself. She hadn't felt under pressure, or tense and agitated like she was feeling now. What had she to look forward to? Only hostility from her husband. She wondered if he would kiss her at the airport. That was if he
was
at the airport, she thought wryly, as the plane began a slow bank to the right and the coast of Wexford appeared far below them.

*   *   *

Oliver looked up at the monitor and saw that Noreen's plane had landed. He put his empty coffee cup in a bin, folded his paper and made his way to the arrivals area. She hadn't even phoned him once, just left a message on his mobile to say that she'd got there ten days ago. He felt very hard done by, especially as he'd had the exterior of the house painted in her absence, washed and vacuumed her car, had the gardens tended to by a gardener so that they were in tip-top shape, and even done the shopping. She probably wouldn't even say thanks, he thought crossly, as he stood glowering with his hands shoved into his hip pockets waiting for her to emerge into the arrivals hall.

He saw her before she saw him. She looked relaxed, rested. He was glad of that. He walked forward to take her trolley.

‘Oh … Oh! Hello,' she said coolly. ‘I wasn't sure if you'd be here.'

‘Here, let me take that.' He took the trolley from her. ‘Why wouldn't I be here?' he demanded.

‘Well, you could be busy,' she said huffily. ‘You never rang to say you'd be here. You never rang me at all.'

‘You mean
you
never rang
me,
' growled Oliver. ‘You were gone ten days and not a peep.'

‘
Excuse me,
I left a message to say I got there,' Noreen retorted.

Oliver manoeuvred the trolley through the crowds. ‘You might have phoned back. It was quite obvious you weren't the slightest bit interested—'

‘Oh Oliver,
please
let's not bicker,' she burst out agitatedly. ‘Don't ruin my holiday with a row.'

‘Sorry,' he muttered.

They walked in silence to the pay booth. And when he'd paid the parking fee he turned and took the trolley again. ‘We're in C,' he said. ‘I couldn't get any closer.'

‘That's OK,' Noreen murmured and he felt a bit of a heel.

‘Did you have a nice time?' He made an effort.

‘Yeah, I did. Kay was really kind to me.'

‘Good. I'm glad,' he said gruffly and touched her arm briefly. To his dismay, she burst into tears. ‘What's wrong?' He gave her a look of dismay.

‘Oliver, please let's not fight,' Noreen wept. ‘I don't want to go home to fighting and not talking.'

Oliver swallowed hard. He took a step forward and put his arms around her. ‘We won't fight, Noreen,' he said firmly. ‘Stop crying and let's go home.'

*   *   *

Noreen tried to eat the fillet steak Oliver had cooked for them but her throat felt closed and tight. The minute she'd seen Oliver lope towards her in arrivals she'd been swamped by guilt. He looked tired and careworn. It wasn't easy for him either, she acknowledged. He was a good man and she'd slept with someone else behind his back. If he ever found out he'd feel a bigger failure than he felt now, and she'd hate that. He was hurting enough with all that was going on, she didn't want to plunge the knife in even deeper.

I'm sorry, Oliver,
she apologized silently to him as he poured her a glass of water. She wasn't drinking for at least a week, she vowed. She hadn't drunk as much in years as she had when she'd been on holiday and look where drink had got her, she thought guiltily.

‘The house looks great, Oliver. The paint really freshens it up, doesn't it?'

‘I thought it would be good to get it done when you were away so you wouldn't have to smell the fumes,' he said, sprinkling more salt than was good for him on his potatoes.

‘Go easy on the salt,' she said out of habit, feeling worse than she'd ever felt in her life as his thoughtfulness heaped even more guilt on to the load she was already carrying.

‘Is your dinner OK? The steak's a bit tough. I battered it around a bit to tenderize it.'

‘It's lovely, Oliver. Thanks very much.' She thought she was going to cry again as she saw him smile at her, his clear blue eyes even bluer against his tanned skin.

‘We need to put a few pounds on you, woman, so eat up. There's more gravy and veg if you want them. Would you like some more?'

‘No I'm fine, honest. They served a snack on the plane; it took the edge off my appetite.' Making a superhuman effort, Noreen ate some fried onions and wished with all her being that she had never invited Rajiv back to Kay's flat. As long as she lived she would never drink brandy again, she vowed miserably, as Oliver updated her on the goings on in Kilronan while she'd been away.

Later, she unpacked. The sight of the half-empty bottle of brandy wrapped in her bathtowel jolted her and guilt came flooding back. Hurriedly she stuffed the bottle to the back of her wardrobe. She'd put it in the drinks cabinet when Oliver was at work. She sighed deeply. She felt awkward and unbalanced. All the relaxation she'd felt in London had ebbed away. Although Oliver was being kind and making an effort, the tension was there between them and she dreaded going to bed that night.

She pretended to be asleep when he came to bed an hour after her. She'd pleaded tiredness but as she lay with her back to her husband with her eyes closed she was wide awake and utterly on edge. She couldn't bear it if he tried to make love to her. Guilt boiled and bubbled inside her, burning her soul, and she wanted to tell him about Rajiv and get it over with. If he ranted and roared and called her names it would have to be better than what she was enduring now.

The bedsprings creaked as Oliver got into bed. Noreen tensed. She heard him sigh and roll on to his side away from her. She prayed that he would fall asleep soon so that she could open her eyes and stop pretending to breathe deeply, and just endure her misery.

33

‘He never gets up to him at night, he carries on as if there's no baby in the house. He's off playing golf whenever he wants and I'm not getting a wink of sleep,' Maura moaned.

‘Well, if you like I'll take the baby for a walk around the lake for an hour and you could nip up to bed for forty winks,' Noreen offered, feeling more than a little sorry for her sister. Gone was the smartly dressed, immaculately coiffed Lady-Who-Lunched. Maura had bags under her eyes, her roots needed touching up and her jumper had creamy puke stains on it.

‘Would you, Noreen? Are you sure? I'll take the phone off the hook and just have a quick snooze. He's had a bottle so he might even sleep for you.' Maura's eyes lit up at the prospect of sleep.

‘Get me his coat. It's a bit cool, so stick an extra blanket on the buggy,' Noreen instructed. ‘I'll go and put his seat into my car. Where's your car keys?'

‘On the table in the hall.' Maura couldn't believe her luck. Noreen laughed and went out to struggle with the intricacies of baby seats. Twenty minutes later she was pushing her nephew through the gates that led to the pathway that circled the lake. It was a grey, gloomy day. The sky and lake seemed to merge and even the vibrant yellow gorse seemed dull today.

Noreen sighed. She was restless. Since she'd come back from London she was finding it hard to settle down. Even her job in the surgery was losing its lustre. Was this what it was going to be like for the rest of her life? she wondered moodily as she negotiated a hole in the footpath. Oliver was doing his best. He'd offered to go to the Rotunda Fertility Clinic with her, but she knew his heart wasn't in it. Their easy companionship was gone. A jagged edge of tension underlined their relationship now. She knew he felt he was walking on eggshells. She could feel the tension in him at night when he put his arms around her, and she would pretend to sleep until he fell asleep himself and then lie awake thinking of her time in London, wishing she could turn the clock back.