Promises, Promises

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Denise, I remember going to a soccer match with you once when the Glenree Rangers were playing and you were following the game so brilliantly you cheered when they scored an own goal. I wouldn’t even attempt to explain rugby to you.’ Doug snorted.

  ‘I remember that,’ Ellen guffawed. ‘And do you remember the ball was out and it landed at Mary Boylan’s feet and she gave it a kick and poor Gerard Redmond got it right in the goolies.’

  ‘It gave him the thrill of his life. He probably hasn’t had one since,’ Denise chortled and they had all laughed.

  Ellen smiled broadly thinking about that evening. It had been fun and she was looking forward to lunch. Emma was most surprised when she’d declined her invitation to ‘The Luncheon’.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know you had other plans.’ She arched an eyebrow as if to say who do you know that would want to invite you to lunch?

  ‘It’s a long-standing invitation,’ Ellen said sweetly. She wasn’t going to tell Emma where she was going, even though she knew her sister-in-law was agog with curiosity.

  No doubt she knew about it now, Ellen reflected as she dusted the window sill. She wouldn’t be able to contain her curiosity for long. Vincent would have been despatched up to Sheila to get the news. Or else, she’d ask Miriam out straight. Emma was as nosy as they come.

  The doorbell rang and Stephanie rushed past her to get downstairs first. She was fizzling with excitement at going to lunch in Denise’s. Michelle and Lisa were great fun. Julie Ann was jealous because they weren’t really her friends. That gave Stephanie immense satisfaction.

  Ellen followed at a more sedate pace. She could see Doug’s broad outline through the glass panel.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ he greeted her, and handed her a beautiful scarlet poinsettia in a stylish ceramic pot.

  ‘Oh!’ Ellen was completely flustered. ‘It’s beautiful. Thanks, Doug.’

  ‘It’s to go on your new sitting-room window sill.’ He smiled down at her and she was very touched. It was a kind gesture and typical of Doug.

  As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Ellen reached out her free arm and hugged him affectionately. He hugged her back.

  ‘Don’t squash the plant,’ he teased as she drew away.

  ‘I won’t. I’ll just bring it upstairs. I’ve got a box of Milk Tray for Denise and some iced caramels for the kids.’

  ‘Yum, iced caramels,’ Doug said approvingly. ‘I’ve some beer and wine in the car.’ Ellen felt suddenly light-hearted. A feeling she hadn’t had in years.

  ‘Come on, Mammy. Come on, Doug,’ Stephanie urged impatiently, anxious to get across the road to her new friends. Doug picked her up and swung her up in the air and she squealed with delight.

  ‘Little Miss Impatience,’ he scoffed and Stephanie grinned down at him with her wide gap-toothed grin and tweaked his beard. She liked Doug. He was good fun. He always explained what he was doing when she asked him and he’d promised to put a swing in the garden for her, first thing. He was nice and cuddly too, she thought as he yelled when she pulled his beard. If she was ever going to get a daddy, she’d like someone just like him.

  Denise watched the trio through her front window and smiled with satisfaction. Ellen Munroe and Doug Roche were perfect for each other and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure they ended up walking up the aisle of St Joseph’s.

  Chris felt his heart pound. A strange heat enveloped him as he drove through Glenree at a snail’s pace. He couldn’t believe it. He’d hoped against hope that he’d see her. But he couldn’t believe that she was nearly the first person he saw as he drove through the almost deserted main street.

  It was Ellen. After all these years it was her. Thinner than he remembered. Her hair shorter and more groomed. Standing on Main Street embracing a man as a small girl skipped up and down impatiently. Chris twisted his neck to get another look. She and the man were smiling at each other. He felt gutted. Who was this man that made her look like that? She looked terrific. Somehow he’d never thought of her with another man. Because she’d loved him so much he’d assumed she’d never feel the same for anyone else. He’d kept her in a time warp.

  He wanted to stop and get out of the car and go to her. He glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the man swing the little girl up in the air. Jealousy, rage, pain nearly smothered him. That was his child. Not that stranger’s. His emotions shocked him. How could he feel like this? He’d kept Ellen and the child he’d never seen out of his head for years. How could it be possible for him to feel so strongly about them still?

  ‘Are you OK, Chris?’ Suzy asked him. ‘You’ve gone very pale.’

  ‘It’s just a touch of indigestion,’ he muttered as he stepped on the accelerator and sped towards the turn-off that led to Vincent and Emma’s.

  The party was in full swing when they got there. Emma welcomed them at the door, took their coats and led them into the lounge. An enormous log fire blazed in the fireplace. A massive fir tree, strung with white and red lights, glittered in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Red and white bows and shiny red and silver baubles hung from the branches. It was a masterpiece. Red candles entwined with white ribbons stood on the mantelpiece and small side tables. Boughs of red-berried holly decorated the walls. The Christmas decor was the height of elegance. Suzy had to admire Emma’s style.

  A maid in a black dress and white apron glided towards them bearing a tray of champagne. ‘Help yourselves,’ Emma urged gaily. ‘You know nearly everyone here.’

  Chris took a glass of champagne. He was dying to ask Emma if Ellen was coming. He’d seen Vincent’s brother and his wife, although thankfully there was no sign of the parents. That could have been extremely awkward.

  ‘I’ve just seen Angela Kennedy. I want to ask her if she’s taking part in the mixed doubles at the club next week,’ Suzy murmured. Chris was in a very odd mood. First he hadn’t wanted to come. Then he had, now he looked as if he wished he were a million miles away. Was that girl here, she wondered, scanning the room, although the fact was, she couldn’t remember what she looked like. Suzy’d been too pissed that night so long ago to remember much about the party. The sooner this lunch was over the better. She was too uneasy to enjoy herself.

  ‘You’re very down in the dumps,’ Emma remarked as she watched Chris accept a second glass of champagne.

  ‘I just saw Ellen,’ he blurted out. ‘Is she coming?’

  ‘No she isn’t. Thankfully,’ Emma drawled. ‘She had a prior engagement.’

  ‘She was with some man. Who is he?’

  ‘God knows!’ Emma shrugged. ‘It’s hard to keep track with her.’

  ‘Don’t be a bitch, Emma,’ Chris said sharply.

  ‘Well I don’t know who she’s with. And what’s it to you anyway? You dumped her as fast as you could when she got pregnant. What’s wrong with you? Have you got a touch of the guilts after all these years?’ Emma was amazed at Chris.

  ‘I saw Stephanie,’ he muttered.

  ‘Oh!’ Emma didn’t know what to say. It must be a huge shock to see your own child for the first time. And to see her as a six-year-old at that.

  ‘Ellen’s doing a good job of raising her. She’s a very nice child,’ she said hesitantly.

  ‘Do you have any photographs?’

  ‘Ah Chris!’ Emma was dismayed. ‘Why don’t you just leave it? Why torment yourself after all this time?’

  ‘Please, Emma.’ His tone was pleading.

  ‘I’ll root some out. There’s one over on the TV unit, of the three cousins. Stephanie is in the middle.’ She pointed to a corner of the elegant rosewood unit that ran the length of the far wall.

  ‘Thanks, Emma.’ Chris was sheepish.

  ‘I shouldn’t have invited you.’ She looked troubled as she stared at him. This was a side to Chris she’d never seen before.

  ‘I shouldn’t have come,’ he said heavily.

  He made his way through the clusters of guests, some of whom called out g
reetings, until he was standing directly in front of the photograph. Hesitantly he picked it up. Three laughing little girls stared back at him. But Stephanie was all he had eyes for. She was his, unmistakably. And Ellen’s. Dancing lively blue eyes smiled out at him. Silken black hair tied in two pigtails. A mouth made for laughing. She was so like her mother except for her eyes. They were his. He could see a resemblance to Christina too. It was uncanny.

  Christina and Adam had a half-sister they knew nothing about. He wondered what Ellen had told Stephanie about him.

  From the far side of the room, Suzy watched her husband study a photograph intently. He looked so sad, she thought in shock. Whoever was in that photo was the reason he was here. Angela Kennedy wittered on about the mixed doubles and about whether she’d run for secretary of the club again this year. But Suzy couldn’t concentrate. She had to see what was in that photograph. And yet, as if she had a premonition, Suzy knew if she did it would rock the very foundations of her marriage.

  ‘Ben, look! Look who Vincent and Emma invited to lunch.’ Miriam was so stunned she just stood with her mouth open.

  ‘Who?’ Ben peered around the room. He was far more interested in having something to eat. He was ravenous, the smell wafting through the doors into the dining-room was making his mouth water.

  ‘Look. It’s Chris Wallace!’ Miriam hissed.

  ‘Good grief! What on earth would Vincent do that for?’ Ben couldn’t believe it.

  ‘It was probably Emma. Still I think it’s in very bad taste. Thank God Ellen’s not here.’ Miriam was furious. She stared at Chris Wallace. He was still the same good-looking charmer she remembered. A bit heavier around the waist, a little grey around the temples but still the same blue-eyed smoothie Ellen had fallen in love with.

  Miriam wanted to give him a slap in the chops that would send him into the middle of next year. The nerve of him to turn up at Vincent’s house as if nothing had happened. Not once in six long years had he contacted Ellen to see if she was all right or to ask about his child. He was breathtaking in his selfishness. How could Emma be so insensitive as to invite him? That girl had no cop-on at all, she thought in disgust.

  ‘I don’t want to stay for lunch. It’s not right, Ben.’ Miriam turned to her husband.

  ‘Miriam, if we leave it’s going to cause a row.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben, I feel really strongly about this. Ellen’s your sister and my best friend. If we stay here with that shit, it’s as if we’re condoning what he did to her. If Ellen ever found out he was here and that we’d mixed in his company, she’d be terribly hurt. I couldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t.’

  Ben stared down at his wife. She was very passive usually. But she was so angry now, she was flushed. She’d always been extremely loyal to Ellen. She’d shared every bit of her hurt and grief. She was right. They couldn’t stay.

  ‘I’ll tell Vincent we’re going.’

  ‘No. I’ll tell him,’ Miriam said quietly. ‘If he wants to fall out about it, he can fall out with me.’

  She put her half-finished glass of champagne on a small coffee table and made her way over to where Vincent was standing with some friends.

  ‘Hi, Miriam, Ben. Happy New Year,’ he greeted them.

  ‘Vincent, could we just have a word?’ Miriam murmured.

  ‘Sure. Excuse me.’ Vincent nodded to his friends and took Miriam’s arm.

  ‘Nothing wrong, I hope.’

  ‘Vincent. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything. But we can’t stay in the same house as Chris Wallace. It’s not fair to Ellen. If she ever found out he was here she’d be devastated. We’re going to go.’

  ‘It’s nothing personal, Vincent. But Miriam’s right. He never faced up to his responsibilities to Ellen and Stephanie and it looks as if we’re condoning his behaviour. And I don’t condone it one bit,’ Ben said quietly.

  ‘I don’t either. I’d like to punch his pretty-boy jaw and kick his ass out of here. And maybe I will,’ Vincent growled. ‘I didn’t ask him. I mean, do you think I would? Emma was tiddly at a party last night and she asked him. She didn’t really mean to. She’s sorry she did now. But I didn’t think he’d have the neck to come. That man has no sense of decency or integrity.’ He frowned. ‘Look, it’s not right that you should feel you have to leave. I’ll ask him to leave. Emma shouldn’t have invited him. I’ll explain she was tiddly and that his presence here is an insult to Ellen.’

  ‘No . . . no. Don’t cause a row,’ Miriam said hastily. ‘We’ll just go. You can explain to Emma afterwards.’

  ‘But it’s not right. I feel the way you do. I should have put my bloody foot down and made her phone him to cancel the invitation. It’s just they were very close and she feels the past is the past.’ Vincent jammed his hands in his pockets and glowered in Chris’s direction. He didn’t even notice. He had his back to them and was looking at something on the TV unit.

  ‘Leave it,’ Ben advised. ‘We’ll slip out. It’s what we’d prefer. We’ll be in touch.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miriam.’ Vincent kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m being unreasonable. I just don’t want to be in the same room as him.’ Miriam was distressed.

  ‘I understand. And I’m sorry it happened.’

  ‘See you then.’ Ben patted his brother on the shoulder and then followed Miriam from the room.

  ‘Are you sure you’re not mad?’ Miriam asked as they got their coats and left.

  ‘Naw. You were right. Vincent is in a dilemma there. Emma just doesn’t think sometimes. She’s not deliberately bitchy. But she’d want to think things through. You just don’t do things like that.’

  ‘That set she hangs around with are so . . . I don’t know . . . fast. Half of them are having affairs. And they’re all trying to outdo each other. They’ve different values.’ Miriam got into the cold car and shivered. ‘Blast Chris Wallace. I was really looking forward to my lunch. One thing Emma is good at is having great food served up.’

  ‘I know. I’m starving. If only we hadn’t seen him until after we’d eaten. I don’t think I could face cold turkey again.’ Ben sighed.

  ‘I’ll tell you what. I have a couple of nice T-bone steaks. How about if I cook them with some fried onions?’

  ‘No. It’s your day off. I’ll cook them. And I’ll build up the fire and we’ll have a nice cosy lunch together. We don’t have to collect the kids for a while. Besides Ma would want to know why we were home so early and I think we should just keep this between ourselves.’ Ben started the engine and turned on the heater.

  ‘Oh definitely!’ Miriam agreed. If Sheila Munroe knew Chris Wallace had been invited to Vincent and Emma’s there’d be the mother and father of a row. And that was the last thing the Munroe family needed. Things were bad enough between Sheila and Mick over Ellen moving out. A row with Emma and Vincent could divide the family. Especially if Emma got up on her high horse. If Sheila or Ellen heard about Chris, it wouldn’t be from her lips, Miriam vowed as they drove along the winding road towards home.

  ‘Entre nous of course but I think maids in black dresses and white aprons is just a bit OTT. I mean where does she think she is? Beverly Hills?’ Gillian bitched to Diana Mackenzie as they sipped champagne and watched people go up to the enormous hot and cold buffet for seconds. She wouldn’t go up for seconds. She wouldn’t give Emma the satisfaction of knowing how much she’d enjoyed the delicious food.

  ‘Typical Emma. She had to try and outdo everyone. Mind you it must be costing a fortune. It’s the best of champagne and they’re not skimping on it.’ Diana, in spite of herself, was hugely impressed. This was a seriously posh party.

  Gillian was totally pissed off. Emma’s lunch was a huge success. It was like a wedding. No-one else had caterers and maids. No-one else was lashing out Dom P. as if money was no object. No-one else had a red and white Christmas tree with dinky little bows. Her own tree, which she’d thought was a classic, had baubles of every
size, shape and colour and seemed a tinselly gaudy mess in comparison.

  Even Declan Mitchell was relatively sober too, she thought resentfully. She’d never forgive him for puking all over her sofa. It was the last party of hers he was ever being invited to. Lorna could come on her own or not at all. Friendship only went so far.

  ‘Great party isn’t it?’ Frank said cheerfully as he arrived back to the table with another huge helping of Boeuf Stroganoff. ‘This is scrumptious.’

  ‘Oh you’re easily impressed, Frank,’ Gillian derided. ‘It’s only beef stew with a posh name you know.’

  ‘It’s the nicest beef stew I’ve ever tasted then,’ Frank retorted as he tucked in with relish. The smell of it was too much for Diana.

  ‘I think I might just try another little bit. I didn’t have any breakfast,’ she murmured. ‘Excuse me.’

  Gillian watched her go with slitted eyes. Diana Mackenzie might think she was sophisticated, but she was no more sophisticated than the man in the moon.

  ‘Hi, Gillian, Frank. I haven’t had a minute to talk to you. Everything OK? Are you enjoying lunch?’ Emma sank down gracefully into Diana’s vacant chair.

  ‘Wonderful party, darling,’ Gillian effused. ‘The food is very tasty . . . for caterers.’

  ‘Oh, these aren’t just any old caterers.’ Emma smiled sweetly. Gillian needn’t think she was getting away with that bitchy barb. ‘Vincent and I believe in paying good money to get the best. And that’s what they are. It’s terrific not to have to worry about food so that you can mingle with your guests. It’s nice to have something different. People get tired of boring old cold meats and salads at Christmas. Don’t they?’ She stood up as Diana came back. ‘I’m glad to see you’re enjoying your meal, Diana.’

  ‘It’s really tasty, Emma. I’m heartily sick of cold turkey. This is delicious,’ Diana gushed.

  ‘Enjoy.’ Emma smiled smugly at Gillian and then went to join Chris, Suzy, and the crowd at their table.

  Gillian was incandescent. That bitch. How dare she make patronizing remarks about cold meats and salads. That was what she’d served up for supper last night. It hadn’t been any old salads either. There’d been Waldorf salad, Caesar salad, salad Nicoise. The utter cheek of her. There were times when Emma Munroe was just too big for her boots. Why she stayed friends with her, Gillian simply did not know.