Promises, Promises

by Patricia Scanlan

  It failed to cross his mind that maybe Ellen didn’t need him any more.

  Suzy was surprised when she heard Chris’s key in the door. She’d phoned the office to see if he was there and when she’d got no answer she’d immediately started thinking he was off with some woman. She wasn’t expecting him home for hours, and she certainly wasn’t expecting him home with a face like a thundercloud.

  He’d been in great form lately. And she’d made an effort to believe that everything was all right between them. But when he pulled stunts like telling her he was going to the office and then didn’t answer the phone, what was she supposed to believe?

  ‘What’s wrong, you don’t look very happy?’

  ‘I hate bloody auditors,’ he growled as he threw his briefcase on the sofa.

  ‘I rang the office. You didn’t answer.’ Suzy knew she sounded accusing but she couldn’t help it.

  Chris flashed her a look of fury. ‘Was that you? I was up to my eyes in figures and I was damned if I was answering that bloody phone. I had to start all over again,’ he lied.

  ‘Sorry,’ Suzy said meekly, taken aback at his anger.

  ‘What did you want anyway?’

  ‘Alexandra phoned to know if we’d like to go to a film premiere. Some people didn’t turn up and she had spare tickets.’

  ‘Who does she think we are, rent-a-crowd? If she couldn’t invite us as guests why should we go as spares when she needs to fill seats?’

  ‘Oh for Christ’s sake, Chris, don’t be so nasty. The girl was being nice.’

  ‘Huh! That’ll be the day.’ Chris snorted. ‘I’m going to bed, I’ve a headache. Goodnight.’ He gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and stomped upstairs.

  Suzy didn’t know what to think. A headache . . . Chris! Maybe he had been working on figures in the office. Maybe she had disturbed him. If only she could believe it, she thought glumly as she snuggled into the big armchair and determinedly immersed herself in her latest Harold Robbins blockbuster. If she kept thinking about whether Chris was being unfaithful to her, she’d drive herself crazy.

  ‘Ellen, Ellen,’ Chris breathed harshly in the dark. He willed Suzy not to come up to bed until his fantasy was over. He groaned thinking of what he would have done to Ellen and what she would have done to him.

  Later, he lay thinking about the events of the evening. He still couldn’t believe that Ellen had ended their affair. She’d come to her senses. This was just a lovers’ tiff, he thought drowsily. No woman had ever walked out on him before. His Ellen certainly wasn’t going to be the first.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Miriam walked down Main Street and felt the now familiar knot in her stomach as she neared Mick’s shop. She hated passing it now. Before the row she’d always go in and say hello to Ellen and Mick. Nowadays she hurried past. She had her meat delivered in the mornings by the butcher-boy as usual so Mick didn’t realize that Ellen and she were not on speaking terms.

  She saw Denise McMahon going in to her house and felt a fierce stab of jealousy. Ellen’s new best friend. No doubt they had loads of chats and cups of tea and long gossips. Connie had been to the circus on Saturday with the Nolans and she’d told Miriam that she’d seen Denise and Ellen and the children going into the marquee for tea. Miriam felt like bawling her eyes out when she heard that. She felt very lonely these days. Ben kept telling her to sort it out. But she didn’t have the nerve. She was afraid Ellen would rebuff her. She’d said harsh things to her. And then, when Ellen had tried to make it up, some perverse devil had got in to her. It had been pretty vicious to ask Ellen if she was pregnant. She bitterly regretted it.

  She hurried past the shop with her head down, and only slowed her pace when she got to the church. Often she’d go in and say a prayer when she went past St Joseph’s, but she wasn’t in the humour to pray today. God was not in her good books. No-one was, she thought crabbily. She was sick of Emma and her whinges. Sheila was driving her mad trying to persuade her to go to the quilting classes that were held once a week in the guild. She needed more people to keep the numbers up. Miriam didn’t like sewing. She much preferred baking. When she’d said no, Sheila had gone all huffy. But it hadn’t deterred her, she was still pestering Miriam to change her mind.

  Miriam was heartily sick of all her in-laws, she decided as she marched past the church. Her heart flip-flopped when she saw Ellen walk out of the bank and head in her direction. Short of crossing the street, there was no way of avoiding her. Miriam’s footsteps felt like lead as she came nearer to Ellen. She noticed that her sister-in-law looked wretched. Nothing like the glowing woman who had sat in her kitchen and told Miriam that Chris Wallace was back in her life.

  All must not be well in Utopia. Serves her right, she thought with uncharacteristic bitchiness. Then, as Ellen came abreast of her and she saw how truly miserable she looked, her heart softened and she stopped.

  ‘Hiya, Miriam,’ Ellen said hesitantly.

  ‘Hello, Ellen,’ Miriam said awkwardly.

  ‘Miriam. I . . . can’t we be friends?’ Ellen blurted out and burst into tears.

  Miriam nearly died with dismay. Bonnie Daly was just a little way behind them.

  ‘Shhh, Ellen, Bonnie Daly’s coming. Come on, let’s go back to your place. We don’t want her sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted,’ she said urgently. She handed Ellen a tissue and they walked quickly, in silence, back towards Ellen’s.

  When they got into Ellen’s hall and closed the door behind them, Ellen threw her arms around Miriam. ‘Don’t be mad at me, Miriam. I’m really sorry if I offended you. You’re my best friend and I miss you.’ She sobbed.

  Miriam felt tears come into her own eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry I said what I did. I was worried about you but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I miss you too, Ellen. I miss Stephanie and so do the girls. I’m dead jealous of Denise McMahon.’ They held each other tightly.

  ‘What a pair we are,’ Ellen gulped.

  ‘I know.’ Miriam sniffled. ‘It’s worse than being in love.’

  Ellen giggled and Miriam started to laugh too. The relief of being friends again was overwhelming.

  ‘We’re never having a row like this again, Ellen. Promise.’

  ‘I promise. It’s been horrible. It’s really good to see you, Miriam.’ Ellen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Look, it’s almost lunchtime. I’ll just run in and tell Dad you’re staying for lunch and he can lock up. You will stay, won’t you?’

  ‘I’d love to.’ Miriam felt light-hearted. This was utterly unexpected. Thank God the row was over. ‘I’ll run up and stick the kettle on.’

  ‘Do I look all right? Do I look as if I was crying?’ Ellen peered at herself in the mirror. ‘Lord! I look a sight.’

  ‘You look wrecked. What’s wrong with you?’ Miriam was suddenly terrified that Ellen was pregnant.

  ‘I finished it with Chris last night,’ Ellen said quietly.

  ‘Oh!’ Miriam didn’t know what to say.

  ‘I’ll tell you about it in a minute. I’d better go in to Dad, he’ll be wondering why I didn’t come back from the bank.’ Ellen ran a comb through her hair, touched up her lipstick and went out to the shop.

  Miriam walked slowly upstairs. She was very glad to hear that Ellen was finished with Chris but she knew her sister-in-law was suffering. It must be a dreadful thing to love someone who wasn’t good for you, she thought as she filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Chris Wallace had caused Ellen such grief since he’d come into her life. Miriam hoped he was finally out of it for good.

  Ten minutes later she sat and listened in silence as Ellen explained why she’d let Chris go. It surprised Miriam that it was Ellen who’d made the decision. She’d assumed Chris had done the dirty on her again. She pitied Ellen from the bottom of her heart. It was a tough decision to make, but Ellen had never lacked courage. Miriam looked her sister-in-law straight in the eye.

  ‘Ellen, all I can say is, love should
n’t make you cry. And you’ll always be crying over him as long as he’s part of your life. You’re right to end it. I know you do love him. He doesn’t deserve the love you gave him. He never did. But in the last few months, before he came back into your life, you were happier than I’d seen you in a long time. Try and get back to that. You made the decision to let him go this time and you did it for the right reasons. Put yourself first from now on.’ Miriam squeezed her hand. ‘And I’d love to take care of Stephanie again. Honestly she’s no trouble. I never minded having her.’

  Ellen grimaced. ‘Miriam, it’s a bit awkward. I’m going to tell you something in confidence. Denise needs the money. Jimmy’s having an affair with Esther Dowling and Denise is trying to make some money on the side so she won’t feel she’s completely dependent on him.’

  ‘Esther Dowling is having an affair with Jimmy McMahon. I don’t believe it!’ Miriam nearly got lockjaw with amazement. ‘Jimmy McMahon, my God. It’s incredible. He seems so . . . so dependable. He’s very good to his mother. I often see him bring her coal and briquettes and he lights the fire for her every day because she lives on her own. I’m really disappointed in him. I thought he was . . . nice . . . decent. Poor Denise. She must be in bits.’

  ‘She’s in flitters, God love her. So would you mind if I left Stephanie with her for the time being?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Miriam assured her. ‘Do you know, I always thought Esther Dowling was too sweet to be wholesome. I thought she was sly. She puts on this, I’m a helpless female act, when she’s with men. It’s pathetic.’

  ‘I never really noticed.’ Ellen poured another cup of tea for the two of them and handed Miriam another slice of cherry and walnut cake.

  ‘Well I remember noticing it when she sprained her ankle after Mass one Sunday and Guard Malone gave her a lift home in the squad car. He had to practically carry her to the car. She was fluttering her eyelashes at him and simpering to beat the band.’

  ‘That’s right. I remember.’ Ellen laughed. ‘And Esther’s no lightweight either, she’s heavier than you and me. He was mortified.’

  ‘She haunted him for weeks after, Cecily Malone told me,’ Miriam remarked dryly. ‘It obviously doesn’t matter to her that they’re married once she sets her eye on them. And she’s so holier than thou in public. What a little hypocrite. So Jimmy succumbed to her wiles. I thought he was more of a man than that.’ Miriam shook her head in disgust.

  ‘Don’t let on I told you. Denise asked me not to mention it,’ Ellen said.

  ‘Of course not,’ Miriam exclaimed. That was poor Denise’s business and she certainly wasn’t going to blab it around Glenree. The phone rang. Ellen jumped. She looked troubled.

  ‘Do you want me to answer it?’ Miriam asked, guessing that Ellen suspected that it was Chris.

  Ellen nodded. ‘Would you mind? If it’s him, say that I’m not here,’ she said flatly.

  Miriam went downstairs and picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’

  There was silence for a moment. Then a man asked to speak to Ellen. It was Chris. Miriam recognized his smooth suave voice.

  ‘She’s not here. Sorry,’ she said curtly. She didn’t give him time to answer. She hung up straight away.

  ‘Was it him?’ Ellen asked anxiously.

  Miriam nodded.

  ‘He’ll plague me. Chris will never accept that I finished it. He won’t be able to cope with that. Chris has such a huge ego but behind it all he feels . . .’ Ellen shook her head, ‘I don’t know . . . inadequate, inferior in some ways. He has this air of confidence, a facade of self-assurance that fools everyone. You’d be amazed at how much reassurance he needs. He worries if he’s doing the right thing at work. Suzy isn’t a bit interested in his job, as long as he pays the bills. I know him, Miriam. He’s looking for something or someone. I don’t think he even knows what he’s looking for himself. There’s a little lost boy in him that’s hard to resist. I hope I can resist him.’

  ‘Yeah, well you’re not his mother and it’s time he grew up. You’re too soft and he knows it,’ Miriam said dryly. Little lost boy, my hat, she thought privately. If he was her little lost boy, she’d give him a good kick in the arse for treating women the way he did. ‘Why don’t you get your phone number changed? A friend of Ben’s works in the P&T, I’ll get him to fix it up for you if you like.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe I will,’ Ellen said firmly. ‘That’s exactly what I’ll do.’

  Who was that on the phone? Chris wondered, disgruntled. He knew Ellen always had lunch in the flat. He’d often phoned her there at lunchtime. No-one else had ever answered the phone before. He flung his pen onto the desk. This was driving him nuts. He glanced at his watch. He was meeting a client in the Burlington for lunch, he’d better get a move on. He didn’t feel like eating anything. He felt like driving over to Glenree and making Ellen quit this nonsense. It was pointless. They’d be back together sooner or later. He wanted it to be sooner.

  Lunch was a drag. Charles Moran was a boring old fart, even if he did employ a large workforce and wanted to arrange a pension scheme for them. While they were waiting for their starters, an elegant woman in a smart houndstooth business suit and black polo-neck jumper led a party of four men to a table. She was supremely confident as she organized the seating and took charge of the ordering. Chris was impressed in spite of himself. Alexandra Johnston, for it was she, was certainly good at her job. He watched her in action. She ordered, chatted to her guests, called waiters over discreetly and she revelled in it.

  She was a pushy broad, he thought contemptuously as he saw her taste the wine. She should have let one of her male guests do that. No wonder she wasn’t married. A man would be put off by her assertiveness. What she needed was a man who wouldn’t take any shit from her. She was good-looking, tall, shapely. More on top than Suzy, but not as voluptuous and sexy as Ellen, he mused as Charles wittered on about index-linked pension plans and bonus schemes.

  He wondered what she’d be like in bed. He’d soon have her whimpering and begging for more. The trouble with Alexandra was she’d always gone for wimps. She’d run a mile from a real man who wouldn’t put up with her crap.

  ‘What do you think?’ Charles paused with a forkful of seafood cocktail suspended between mouth and plate.

  ‘Interesting idea,’ Chris spoofed. He hadn’t a clue what the old bugger had been yattering on about.

  Alexandra saw him looking at her. She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow and stared back at him. Then, dismissively, she inclined her head and spoke to the man seated next to her.

  Big-headed cow, Chris thought crossly. What was wrong with him? Had he lost his touch with women? Ellen had kicked him out. Alexandra was ignoring him. He caught the gaze of a blonde babe lunching with a well-known ex-rugby player whose red nose and florid face would be enough to put anyone off their pâté de fois gras.

  Chris deliberately stared at the babe. She blushed. He winked. She giggled. He hadn’t lost it, he thought glumly. It just wasn’t working on Ellen.

  The idea of going back to the office did not appeal to him so he indulged Charles as they drank brandy after a satisfying lunch. Only when he saw Alexandra’s guests rise to make a move did he call for the bill.

  She was paying by cheque at the desk, having seen her party off in taxis. Chris had to admire her poise. She certainly was an independent woman, able to hold her own in a man’s world. He couldn’t imagine Suzy emulating her now. Suzy had been like Alexandra once. Bright, full of confidence, living life to the full. Marriage and motherhood had changed all that. Suzy was boring, now, Chris reflected. She was paranoid about him having an affair. She found it difficult to manage the kids and the house. She’d gone off the boil in bed. He didn’t look forward to going home any more.

  Chris caught a whiff of Chanel No. 5 as Alexandra moved towards him. Charles had bumped into an old friend and they’d decided to stay and have another brandy. So Chris was free to go.

  ‘The Divine Miss Johnston,’
he drawled.

  ‘The not so Divine Mr Wallace,’ Alexandra retorted.

  ‘Was your lunch successful? The men certainly seemed to enjoy it.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t they?’ Alexandra eyeballed him. She had green eyes.

  ‘Why not indeed? Being treated to lunch by a . . . glamorous woman . . . is something all men aspire to,’ Chris said coolly.

  ‘You always were a sarcastic bastard. What Suzy sees in you is beyond me.’ Alexandra flashed him a look of disdain.

  ‘My . . . we’re touchy today. I was merely paying you a compliment. Is the big romance still off? You know what’s wrong with you, Alexandra . . . you’re deprived.’ Chris cocked his head to one side and grinned at her.

  ‘Well, from what I hear, you’re not,’ Alexandra riposted.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I hear you’re having an affair.’

  ‘You hear wrong.’ Chris stared at her.

  ‘Suzy’s convinced of it.’ Alexandra stared back.

  ‘Is she now?’ Chris raised an eyebrow. ‘And what do you think, Miss Johnston?’ he said quietly. ‘Do you think I’m the type to have an affair?’

  Alexandra held his gaze. ‘I wouldn’t doubt it for a second.’

  ‘I see. Well maybe I will have an affair, and maybe I won’t. She’ll have to be pretty spectacular, this woman I have an affair with. I’m hard to please.’ His eyes challenged her.

  ‘So am I, Mr Wallace. See you around.’ Alexandra raised her chin and walked past him out of the restaurant.

  Chris watched her leave. He’d known Alexandra for years. It was funny how he’d never noticed her in that way until today. She was intriguing, for sure. He could have her if he wanted, he thought confidently. Ellen wasn’t the only woman in the world. She’s the only one who understands me. Impatiently he brushed the thought aside. He paid his bill and went back to the office. The afternoon dragged.