She lay contentedly, knowing that Stephanie was sound asleep in her ‘nursery’ in the adjoining bedroom. It had been a long exhausting day but she was too wound up to sleep. The first night in her new home was one to savour.
Sheila lay in the dark with tears streaming down her face. The day she’d been dreading for so long had finally arrived. She’d borne up well until now. She’d been most impressed with the flat. Doug Roche had done a magnificent job. She could hardly recognize it from the shambles it had once been. And Ellen had decorated it so nicely. It had surprised Sheila who had never given her daughter much credit for that kind of thing.
When she saw Stephanie’s bedroom, she could understand her granddaughter’s excitement and delight. It was a beautiful room with the two beds and the lovely little play corner. Doug had built in a window seat for her. Stephanie had made her sit in it to try it out. Then she’d made her lie on both beds.
‘Which one would you pick, Nannie? I can’t make up my mind.’
Sheila had pretended to consider and had chosen the one by the window.
‘That’s the one I’ll sleep in. Will you sing Christopher Robin for me? I’m in my nursery now and I’m sure Mary Poppins sang it to Michael and Jane.’
Sheila swallowed the lump in her throat remembering the pair of trusting blue eyes raised to her own. Stephanie was so precious to her. She was her favourite grandchild, though she’d only admit that to herself. It had been strange in Ellen’s flat. She was a guest. Her daughter was mistress of her own home now. They were equals in the flat. Sheila no longer had control. She felt old, and powerless and unneeded. The house seemed hollow and empty like she did. Just herself and Mick now. Once it had been full of life. Full of young people when the children were growing up. Now it was a shell. The tears came faster. Mick stirred beside her and put her arms around her.
‘Stop crying, pet. It’s for the best,’ he murmured.
‘I miss them.’ Sheila wept.
‘I do too,’ Mick said sadly as his arms tightened around her. ‘I do too.’
‘We’ll call in after Mass. I’m dying to see the place.’ Emma snuggled in to Vincent. ‘Miriam said it’s lovely.’ Her curiosity was getting the better of her.
‘OK,’ Vincent agreed drowsily. Emma nibbled his ear.
‘Go asleep,’ Vincent murmured.
Emma slid her hand along his chest, down to the hard plane of his lean flat stomach.
‘Stop, you witch.’ He groaned as her hand explored further.
‘Make the most of this, because when I have the baby, we’re never having sex again,’ Emma said huskily. She wanted to forget that she was pregnant. She wanted to try and ignore the thickening of her waist and the new fullness of her breasts. Sometimes she felt she was living in a nightmare. She was filled with dread and fear. Only in Vincent’s arms could she find comfort from the ordeal that her life had become.
‘Kiss me, Vincent. Hold me. Tell me it’s going to be all right,’ she whispered against his ear.
‘It’s going to be all right. When you’ve had the baby, we’ll get a nanny. Don’t worry. And the gynaecologist said you were fine and he’d do a Caesarean the minute you need it.’
‘I’m really scared.’
‘Don’t be. I’m here. I’ll look after you.’ Vincent held her tightly. He could feel the frantic beating of her heart through the flimsy nightie she wore. He felt utterly helpless in the face of his wife’s fear. He was never allowing her to go through this again. He was going to go to England to get sterilized. Deep down though, he hoped the baby would be a boy. He’d love a son, he thought as he responded to his wife’s caress and kissed her passionately.
‘It’s very nice, Ellen.’ Emma peered around with interest. She was amazed. She’d expected, well not a hovel exactly, but certainly nothing as nice as the bright airy pretty home that she and Vincent were standing in.
‘Thanks. I’m delighted with it.’ Ellen beamed. Not even her snooty patronizing sister-in-law could affect her mood today, she thought happily as she served tea and biscuits to her unexpected guests. She should have known, of course, that Emma would have to come and poke around. She was as nosy as they come.
Ellen had got up early and gone to eight o’clock Mass. She was having her parents and Doug to dinner as a little thank-you gesture. It was twelve-thirty, she had the roast in the oven and the vegetables and potatoes were all ready to cook. The smell wafting from her new kitchen was mouth-watering.
She could see Emma staring at the pine table, set for five. Ellen had gone the whole hog, she had bought a bottle of wine, and she had prawn cocktail for starters. Crisp white linen napkins arranged in a fan shape looked very pretty.
‘Are you having guests?’ Emma pried.
‘Yes,’ Ellen nodded. She didn’t elaborate. She could see that Emma was consumed with curiosity. Well she could be consumed. She probably knew that Mick and Sheila were coming but the fifth setting would be a mystery to her. Madam Emma would find out sooner or later, no doubt. But Ellen wasn’t going to satisfy her curiosity.
‘We met your parents at Mass. They said you were having them for lunch.’ Emma was not one to give up easily.
‘It’s the least I can do, they’ve been very good to me.’ Ellen handed Vincent the plate of biscuits.
‘We’ve a bit of news for you,’ he said diffidently. ‘We told Mam and Dad this morning at Mass. Emma’s expecting a baby.’
‘Oh!’ Ellen was taken aback. She knew Emma didn’t want more children.
‘It was a bit of a shock to me too,’ Emma said dryly. ‘I can’t say I’m too thrilled but that’s the way it goes.’
‘I hope everything will be all right for you.’ Ellen didn’t really know what to say. ‘I suppose Julie Ann’s thrilled.’
‘Oh we haven’t told her. Not for a while yet. I couldn’t cope with the questions,’ Emma said hastily.
‘It’s early days,’ Vincent said. ‘We’ll tell her nearer the time.’
‘Mummy, I want a nursery like Stephanie, and I want teddy bear curtains.’ Julie Ann marched into the room.
‘But darling you’ve a lovely bedroom at home and your curtains were very, very expensive,’ Emma said weakly. Ellen bristled. How typical of Emma to rub it in about her very expensive curtains. And how typical of Julie Ann to covet what Stephanie had.
‘But Mummy. It’s not fair! I want teddy bear curtains too. And I want a winding stairs. And a room in the attic.’ Julie Ann pouted. She was so like Emma, Ellen thought. Very dainty with expressive brown eyes and a little heart-shaped face. But she was spoilt rotten.
‘Don’t be silly, Julie Ann,’ Vincent said sternly.
‘I am not silly.’ Julie Ann glowered at her father. ‘Stephanie just thinks she’s great. My bedroom is much bigger than hers.’
‘Julie Ann!’ Vincent warned.
‘Leave me alone,’ Julie Ann said huffily and flounced out of the sitting-room.
Emma was mortified. ‘It’s time we were going.’ She stood up.
If Stephanie ever carried on like that she’d know all about it, Ellen thought to herself. That child was let away with murder.
‘It was very nice of you to call,’ she said politely.
‘Good luck in your new home.’ Vincent kissed Ellen on the cheek.
‘Thanks and thanks very much for the coffee table.’ Ellen was relieved they were going. Emma always put her on edge.
‘Come on, Julie Ann,’ Vincent called up the stairs.
‘I don’t want to go home,’ Julie Ann shrieked. ‘Can I stay, Auntie Ellen, please?’
‘Please, Mammy, can she stay?’ Stephanie peered down the banisters, adding her pleas to those of her cousin.
I’ll kill her, Ellen thought. What a position to be put in.
‘Auntie Ellen is having visitors,’ Vincent said.
‘Please, Daddy.’ Julie Ann turned on the waterworks.
‘Please, Mammy. You said I could have Julie Ann and Rebecca to stay,’ Stephanie wheed
led. Ellen promised herself she was going to have a good talk with her daughter. She didn’t mind having her nieces to stay, but it should be when she chose.
‘Julie Ann, cut it out.’ Emma scowled. Julie Ann howled louder.
‘Let her stay. I can drop her home later,’ Ellen offered politely.
‘No, no,’ Vincent protested.
‘If you’re sure you don’t mind,’ Emma said.
Typical, thought Ellen. Offload her whenever you get the chance.
‘She can play with Stephanie for the afternoon.’ Ellen was silently raging. Stephanie needn’t think she was going to get away with manipulating her the way Julie Ann did Emma.
‘Can I have dinner in your house?’ Julie Ann piped up, the waterworks ceasing as if by magic.
‘Yes of course.’
‘Oh goody,’ Julie Ann said ecstatically. ‘Are we having crispy roast potatoes?’
‘We are.’ Ellen had to smile. Julie Ann loved her grub.
‘My mummy’s roast potatoes are never crispy like yours. Can I have two?’ Julie Ann asked artlessly.
‘Yes, go on up and play now while I get the dinner.’ Ellen changed the subject when she saw Emma go a deep shade of puce.
‘Are you sure about keeping her?’ Vincent wasn’t too happy.
‘She’s fine. Don’t worry.’
‘You’re very good,’ Emma said tightly.
And you’re not very good at cooking roast potatoes, Ellen thought smugly. She knew she was being a bitch but she enjoyed her sister-in-law’s discomfiture.
She waved them off and hastened to her kitchen to put on the veg.
‘Did you hear that little madam? I’ll have a word with her when I get her home,’ Emma fumed.
‘So will I,’ Vincent agreed. ‘Playing up like that. I’m sure Ellen has enough to do without having Julie Ann for the afternoon.’
‘Oh she won’t mind that,’ Emma said dismissively. ‘She’ll be company for Stephanie. Anyway now we can go somewhere and have lunch on our own. Won’t that be a treat?’ She was delighted Julie Ann was off her hands for the afternoon. She could be so wearing sometimes.
‘I wonder who the other guest was. Ellen didn’t say.’
‘Haven’t a clue.’ Vincent held the car door open for her.
‘She’s looking very well these days. Even Chris commented on it at the funeral,’ Emma said without thinking.
‘It’s none of his bloody business what way Ellen’s looking,’ Vincent growled and Emma could have kicked herself. What a stupid thing to say.
‘Don’t go so fast, I’ve dreadful heartburn, and I feel dizzy,’ she fibbed.
Vincent instantly slowed down. ‘Sorry, love. If you don’t feel like going out to lunch I’ll make it,’ he offered solicitously.
‘Oh I think I could manage a mouthful or two somewhere. It would be nice to be on our own for a little while. Let’s go to Malahide,’ she suggested.
‘OK,’ he agreed.
Emma relaxed in the seat and let her mind drift. Was Ellen seeing someone? Was he coming to lunch to have crispy roast potatoes? That rankled. She wouldn’t have cared if Julie Ann had said it in front of Miriam but in front of Ellen! It was mortifying. She’d give Julie Ann a piece of her mind when she got home, after she’d grilled her about Ellen’s mysterious dinner guest.
Ellen lay relaxing in a scented bath that night. She was very pleased with herself. In spite of Julie Ann, the lunch had been a great success. Doug and Mick got on famously and Sheila was most gracious. She’d even complimented her on her Yorkshire pudding. Ellen knew she was being polite. Her Yorkshire pudding had drooped dismally, compared to Sheila’s perfectly risen masterpieces. But, apart from that, lunch had been very tasty. Doug scoffed everything on his plate and had seconds as well.
Julie Ann had eaten every mouthful with great relish. She’d chatted away confidently to Doug who found her very amusing.
When Sheila and Mick had gone home, Ellen suggested a walk on the beach in Portmarnock. This idea had gone down a treat. They’d all piled into her new car and she’d driven to Portmarnock, only crashing her gears once.
It had been lovely to walk along the wide golden beach inhaling the salty sea air. People were walking their dogs. Couples strolled hand in hand. Children raced along exuberantly enjoying the fresh air. Stephanie and Julie Ann had studied pools of clear water looking for crabs and sea urchins. She and Doug strode along chatting companionably. Doug treated them to tea in a little beachside cafe. It had been a perfect way to end the day.
Ellen stretched out in the bath. It was a lovely bath. It was pale green to match her sink and toilet. The bathroom was warm and she had towels heating on the radiator. It was luxurious compared to what she’d been used to at home. The great white enamel bath had needed gallons of hot water to fill it up and the bathroom was always cold in the winter, despite the electric bar on the wall.
Ellen lolled, enjoying the warmth and the scented air. She cleansed her face, steamed it, moisturised it and lay back with cold tea bags on her eyes. She’d never have been tempted to linger in a bath at home. This was decadence, she thought happily.
An hour later, she sat curled up in an armchair reading the Sunday newspapers. She was tingling from head to toe. She’d smoothed body lotion all over her, her hair was freshly washed and shampooed, her eyes shining and clear after their tea bag treatment. She had her clothes and Stephanie’s school uniform ready and ironed for the next morning and she was enjoying her read beside the blazing fire. Stephanie was fast asleep. She nearly was too, she yawned, reaching for her hot chocolate.
The doorbell chimed and she glanced at the clock, puzzled. It was nine-thirty. Who’d be calling at this hour? Maybe Ben and Miriam were going for a drink in the Glenree Arms and they’d popped in to say hello. Hardly though. Miriam had said something about finishing a jumper for Ben. Saturday night was their usual night out. Denise came to mind. Maybe there’d been a row or something. She tightened her dressing-gown belt around her waist and walked downstairs. It wasn’t Denise. The outline at the door was a man’s.
Doug must have forgotten something, she thought although she couldn’t think what. She glanced at herself in the oval mirror that hung on the hall wall. She looked fine. She didn’t mind Doug seeing her in her dressing-gown. It was a nice new one that Ben and Miriam had given her for Christmas. It was candlewick, in pale lilac, and it was as warm as toast. The colour suited her.
She opened the door with a smile on her face and her heart almost stopped as she stared into a pair of unforgettable blue eyes and she heard Chris Wallace say,
‘Hello, Ellen.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Chris! Chris!’ Ellen didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe that he was standing on her doorstep. Why? After all this time.
‘Can I come in?’ he asked.
She looked into his eyes, as vividly blue as she remembered, and felt her heart thud against her ribs.
‘Please, Ellen?’
Ellen stepped aside and he walked past her into the hall. She closed the door behind him and turned to face him.
‘What do you want?’ She was dry-mouthed.
‘You.’ His voice was husky. His eyes darkened as he leaned down and kissed her fiercely, hungrily.
Stunned, she pushed him away. ‘For God’s sake, Chris!’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve missed you so much.’ Chris stared down at her.
‘You’ve missed me!’ Ellen felt an explosion of anger. ‘After all this time you think you can just walk in here as if nothing had happened and kiss me. Who do you think you are, Chris Wallace? What do you think I am?’ she added bitterly.
‘You’ve every right to be angry. I know that,’ he muttered. ‘There’s no justification for what I did. But I want you to know that letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made. And I’ve regretted it ever since.’
‘You’re a bastard, Chris! You walked out on me. You never even got in touch to find out about the baby.
And you waltz in here, almost seven years later, and start kissing me and think it’s what I want. And you expect me to forgive you. Go fuck yourself.’ Her eyes blazed with fury.
‘I’m sorry, baby. I’m really sorry.’ His arms tightened around her.
The old endearment touched something deep inside her. She started to cry.
‘Why, Chris? Why did you do it to me? Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? Do you have any idea how much I loved you? Didn’t I mean anything to you?’
‘Yes! Yes you did.’ He took her face in his hands and stared down at her. ‘I never felt for any woman what I felt for you. I was scared, love. I was immature. I couldn’t handle the idea of being a father. I felt trapped.’ His eyes pleaded for her understanding, for her forgiveness.
‘But how could you not get in touch? Didn’t you care about us? Didn’t you think about me at all?’ The questions she’d asked herself over and over came pouring out. She needed to know the answers.
‘I did think about you. All the time,’ Chris fibbed weakly. ‘I just felt you were better off without me.’ He hung his head in that boyish way that always worked with women.
‘Oh Chris, don’t say that,’ Ellen sighed, reaching up to touch his cheek. He felt a wave of relief. She wasn’t going to turn him away. Ellen still loved him just as he’d known she would. Once she’d got the blast of anger and bitterness out of her system, things would be as they once were. He bent down and very gently kissed her on the mouth. This time she responded, her lips soft against his own.
She knew she was crazy, but feeling his arms around her and the firm warm pressure of his mouth on hers was a thousand times better than all the dreams and fantasies that had kept her going over the years.
Chris was back. Holding her tight. He had to love her. Otherwise why was he here? She knew she was a soft fool not to send him packing but this was the moment she’d dreamed of. How often did dreams come true? He’d said he missed her and thought of her. If he was happy with Suzy, he wouldn’t be standing here kissing her now. The thought made her triumphantly happy. She’d been so jealous of that blonde woman whom she didn’t even know. That woman who had taken the love that was hers. Now she could reclaim it.
Promises, Promises Page 39
