Divided Loyalties

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Sorry.’ At least she had the grace to apologize, he thought, relieved. ‘I just feel frustrated and unsettled since I came home.’ She paced up and down the kitchen.

  ‘Well what do you want to do?’ he asked, perplexed at this unwelcome personality change.

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t really get a job because I don’t want to change the kids’ routines. They’ve never been used to crèches and childminders and I wouldn’t like that anyway.’

  ‘Not even having someone like Filomena?’ Dan asked, trying his best to be of help.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Carrie said doubtfully. ‘Chloe’s been with her since she was two almost. She knows her as well as she knows Shauna.’

  ‘Well, tell me what you want to do and I’ll try and support you as much as I can.’ Dan gave her a hug, optimistic that she’d be back to normal in the morning.

  Carrie knew her husband well enough to know that he was desperately hoping that this was a passing phase and she’d get back to her old self sooner rather than later. What was it about men that they were so ill equipped to handle emotional stuff? All she wanted to do was talk about it. All he wanted to do was find a solution instantly and get on with things.

  Dan was a very supportive husband. He didn’t like it when she was upset or agitated. Just as she didn’t like it when he was troubled, she reflected. She hadn’t been very fair to him, exploding at him out of the blue like that. She’d better get over herself and get on with things, she’d thought glumly, remembering that she had to take her father to the dentist the following morning.

  A week later they’d been walking on the beach with the children. It was a warm, pleasant evening without a hint of a breeze and the strand rang with the sound of children’s laughter and barking dogs, and seagulls screeching and squawking as they wheeled and circled and soared and dipped over the waves. The sun was beginning to sink in the west and great slashes of peach, purple and gold had tinted the sky as they’d headed back home.

  They strolled past Seafield, a large twelve-acre field, owned by Dan, which had been rented out since his father’s time to a couple who ran a small, serviced caravan park on it.

  ‘Billy Moran told me yesterday that himself and Rita are retiring. They’ve bought a place in Spain and they were wondering did I want to keep the field as a caravan park or should they sell off the vans. What do you think?’ Dan remarked, as they glanced up at the five big mobiles that had the best view of the sea, high up on their green perch.

  ‘Do you want to put more tunnels or glasshouses on it?’ Carrie looked at him, thinking that if he did expand his market business it would be more work for him and she’d see less of him.

  ‘It’s an option. But the rent from the park is good as it is, and I like having it as another egg in my basket so that we’re not completely dependent on the market gardening.’ Dan skimmed a flat stone across the water and they watched it hop half a dozen times before it sank.

  ‘That’s true.’ She knew how her husband valued having some regular financial security for his family.

  ‘If Billy and Rita can get someone in to take it on as a going concern, I’m happy enough to keep it as it is, I think. I’ll see how they get on.’

  ‘There must be good money in it if they can retire to Spain.’ Carrie tucked her arm in his. ‘I wonder where will we retire to?’

  ‘The back of the garden in a caravan.’ Her husband grinned at her.

  ‘Daddy, Mammy, look! We found two starfish,’ Olivia yelled excitedly, as Hannah ran to them, dainty as a little ballerina, and started tugging at her father’s hand.

  ‘Daddy ’ish, ’ish,’ she cried, her eyes wide with excitement.

  ‘A fish, let’s see.’ Dan scooped her up and held her high over his head until she yelled with delight. Carrie watched them with pleasure and thought of her outburst a week earlier. She was lucky, very lucky, even if she was in a rut, she acknowledged.

  She hadn’t given the Morans’ departure too much thought until she met Rita in the supermarket and congratulated her on her retirement. ‘I’ll miss my little park, we were happy running it,’ the older woman confessed. ‘It was a great life in the summer and we closed it in the winter and went off to Spain for weeks at a time. It was ideal, really. That’s why we decided to retire out there. We like it and we’ve been going for years.’ Her permanent tan was the envy of her peers in the village who had to make do with a two-week charter holiday once a year, or else resort to sun-beds or tan wipes.

  ‘Have you got anyone in mind to take it over?’ Carrie asked casually.

  ‘Colin Delaney and that young one he lives with seem to want to give it a try. He told Billy that he’d like to have a chat with him about it.’ Rita made a face. ‘I wouldn’t be mad about him taking it over. He’s a bit of a chancer, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I know, and he’s a hard drinker too. I don’t think Dan would be anxious to do business with him.’ Carrie frowned.

  ‘Would the two of you not do it yourselves? It’s so near to your house and of course it’s Dan’s land. Sure you’d be free to look after it in the summer when the kids are off school, and to be honest our clients are mostly older couples and they’re no trouble. We’ve a few young families but the children are well behaved and we close it in October.’ Rita looked at her questioningly.

  ‘I never thought of that. Neither did Dan,’ Carrie said. ‘Can I have a think about it, Rita?’

  ‘Do that, Carrie. I think it would be a grand little sideline for the pair of you and I’d be delighted knowing that my clients would be well looked after.’ Rita beamed at her.

  ‘I don’t know now, Rita. I need to talk to Dan. Don’t say anything to anyone,’ Carrie warned.

  ‘Mum’s the word.’ Rita twinkled, pleased with her machinations.

  ‘What would you think of me taking over the running of Seafield as a business?’ Carrie asked Dan that evening as he handed her a glass of wine after the children had gone to bed.

  ‘You!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Yeah, me,’ she said defensively. ‘I feel I’d be well able for it. Rita suggested it when I met her down the village today.’

  ‘Have you thought it out? We’d have to buy the vans. We’d have to insure the place, clean them before letting them, and maintain the grounds. And then what would we do, pay ourselves rent for the field?’

  ‘The clients pay maintenance fees, and that covers all those costs, including the rent we have been getting,’ Carrie explained.

  ‘Yes, but Rita and Billy work together and live in one of the mobiles on the site during the season. How would you manage?’

  ‘Well, I’d be able to free up the mobile they live in and rent that out and use the money from that rent to pay one of the lads from the village to look after the grounds and be a handyman. I’d get one of the women to help out with the cleaning every so often.’

  ‘We’d have to get a loan to buy the vans.’ Dan started scribbling figures on a piece of paper.

  ‘Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.’ Carrie sighed. She’d felt it was feasible, ideal for her as a mother of three young children. It wouldn’t be too much of an upheaval for them.

  ‘No harm in seeing what the bank manager has to say.’ Dan smiled down at her.

  ‘Are you serious?’ She felt a surge of excitement.

  ‘It’s on our doorstep. It’s an opportunity. We’d be foolish not to investigate the pros and cons at least. And even more important, if it’s what you want and it makes you happy, then let’s go for it.’ He bent his head and kissed her slow and deep and she groaned as flutters of desire spread out through her body. Even after all this time her husband could still turn her on with just a kiss.

  Carrie smiled at the memory as she took the slip road off the M1 and drove towards the village. One great thing about taking on the caravan park was the fact that she’d lost three-quarters of a stone from all the racing around and the cleaning of the six mobiles that were available to rent out. Th
ere were thirty mobiles on the site altogether. Twenty-four were privately owned and six were for renting.

  It was a nicely laid out site, set out in tree- and shrub-lined enclaves. Each separate area had five mobiles in it, giving a sense of intimacy and privacy. It was much nicer than having rows of mobile homes facing each other. The trees and shrubs were mature and the owners kept their patches neat and tidy, with flowers and shrubs and hanging baskets bringing colour and variety. A small wooden chalet housed the office at the entrance to the site and there was a small pool and playground area on a grassy flat piece of ground directly opposite the entrance, which was electronically gated.

  Needless to say, the children were ecstatic at their mother’s business venture. To have access to a swimming pool and playground was beyond imagining, despite the fact that they had miles of fine white sandy beach and the sea on their doorstep.

  She’d got into a routine once she’d taken over from Rita and Billy. After she’d dropped the children to school, she went straight to the site and opened up the office. There she dealt with whatever queries or requirements her clients might have, mostly giving out tokens for the laundry room or putting petrol in the lawnmowers that the owners borrowed to cut the grass on their patches. She took bookings from people wishing to rent out the mobiles during the summer months. Most, as far as she could see, were customers who came year after year. Compared to the larger sites along the coast that offered restaurant, shop and child entertainment facilities, her site was very small and quiet, but many people liked that aspect of it and she had no intention of expanding it.

  Saturday was her busiest day, when one set of customers departed the rented mobiles at eleven and they had to be spotless and ready for occupation by two in the afternoon. Until the past couple of weeks she’d managed by herself, as usually only two or three of the vans were rented. But now, at the beginning of June, when they were getting very busy, she’d taken on two women recommended by Rita to clean out the mobiles. It was a relief to have them on board. It freed her up to spend a little more time with the children, not that they felt neglected. They’d been having too much fun. If one of her mobiles was unoccupied, Carrie cooked their dinners there and used it as a base, much to their delight. Otherwise they stayed in the chalet.

  Noel too had been roped in. He’d spent the month of May painting the verandas that surrounded the rented mobile homes. Neat and particular, he’d made a great job of it and Carrie had insisted on his taking some payment for his work. He’d also planted up the pots and beds at the entrance to the site and they were now a riot of colour and scent. He’d enjoyed that. Carrie had seen several of the private clients stop and talk to him, gardening obviously being a common interest, and she stopped feeling guilty about using him, realizing that he was enjoying meeting new people as well as spending time with her and the children. It was fun sitting together eating round the small table in the dining part of a mobile, and all the better when Dan was there. There was an air of gaiety and holiday that caravans always engendered. Hannah always got excited when Carrie said, ‘Come on, let’s go to the park.’

  The children had been sworn to secrecy about telling Shauna and Chloe but she knew Olivia and Davey were bursting with pride about their new business. Chloe had enjoyed showing off in Abu Dhabi; the shoe would be on the other foot for the summer. Carrie grinned, amused as always by their small displays of one-upmanship.

  Even though it was tiring, she was exhilarated and determined to make a go of it. Their income from the site would be a little more than what it had been when they were just taking rent, even after her loan repayments and workers’ wages. That was extremely satisfying. She could bring the family on a holiday or buy the new bunks with the desks underneath them that Olivia and Davey were longing for without having to dip into the household budget, and once the loan was paid off on the six mobiles it would mean a much bigger profit. It was certainly better than drifting aimlessly towards middle age, she thought with a rueful smile as she pressed the small pad on her keyring and the wrought iron gates that guarded the entrance to Seafield glided slowly open.

  ‘Can we go for a swim, Mom?’ Olivia and Davey chorused.

  ‘As soon as Hannah’s gone for her nap. How many times do I have to tell you not to say it in front of her?’ she chided, pulling up outside the office.

  ‘Swim. Swim,’ Hannah said eagerly.

  ‘I’ll murder the pair of you,’ she said crossly. ‘Later, Hannah. It’s time for your nap.’

  ‘No nap, Mammy.’

  ‘Yes nap,’ Carrie reiterated as they piled out of the car. Olivia and Davey made for the group of children already playing in the playground and Hannah started howling.

  ‘You’re tired, pet. Come on in with Mammy and have a bottle and when you get up I’ll bring you for a swim. OK?’ She scooped her wailing daughter up in her arms and walked into the office.

  ‘Hi, Carrie. Mrs Dempsey’s van has a leak so I’ve called the plumber and there’s a load of messages on the answering machine about bookings,’ Kenny Walsh, the young man she’d hired to work part time with her, informed her briskly. ‘Both lawnmowers are out, and I’ve done the litter and clean-up round and bagged up the rubbish. I’m going to mop out the laundry room now before I go on my lunch. Frances and Orla are cleaning out numbers two and six.’

  ‘Thanks, Kenny. You’re doing a great job.’ Carrie smiled at him, standing lanky and tall in his royal blue overalls.

  ‘That’s me, Kenny the Great,’ he grinned, tugging gently at one of Hannah’s russet curls. ‘Don’t cry, Hannah. I’ll give you a push on the swing after your nap,’ he promised.

  ‘Swing, swing.’ Hannah struggled to get out of her mother’s arms.

  ‘After your nap,’ Carrie said firmly.

  The phone rang. ‘Let the machine take it. I’ll deal with it when I’ve got her down,’ Carrie said, knowing she had a window of about an hour to deal with her phone enquiries once Hannah went asleep. Getting her to go asleep was the challenge.

  She led her into the small back room that housed a large squashy sofa, a TV, a table and chairs and a small kitchen unit containing a sink, a microwave and a kettle. This was where they based themselves if one of the mobiles wasn’t available. Carrie heated a bottle for Hannah in the microwave and led her over to the sofa. ‘Lie down now, darling.’ She whooshed the toddler onto the cushions, tucked a pillow under her head and covered her with her favourite blanket. Hannah was whacked, tired out after her early start, and only managed to finish half her bottle before her eyelids drooped and she was asleep.

  ‘Great!’ Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t be so bad when her daughter was older. Now she had to try to organize herself around her needs. She left the door open and went to the small office at the front and began the task of sorting her mail and phone calls. Outside, through the open window, she could hear Davey’s loud guffaws. Carrie smiled and bent her head to her work. Dan was bringing them lunch in an hour or so. She wanted to be on top of things by then so that she was calm and in control and he could see that the business was running smoothly.

  ‘Carrie, quick. Mr Feeney fell off his veranda and he’s unconscious. Ring the ambulance.’ Kenny raced into the office.

  ‘Oh, Lord! OK.’ Carrie picked up the phone and dialled 999 and gave out the information. ‘Davey, come in and keep an eye on Hannah for me,’ she yelled to her son who was shooting hoops.

  ‘Aw, Mom!’ he protested.

  ‘Don’t argue. It’s an emergency. Quick!’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded truculently when he got to the office.

  ‘I’ve to go to Mr Feeney’s mobile. He fell. Stay here.’

  Carrie ran after Kenny, heart thumping. Maybe the poor man had had a heart attack. She hoped he wasn’t dead. His wife was cradling his head in her lap and other neighbours were helping to keep her calm. ‘Are you all right, Mr Feeney?’ Carrie knelt beside him. He looked pasty and grey but at least he was conscious again.

>   ‘Did a damn fool thing, tripped over my watering can and fell down the steps. I think I’ve broken my arm.’

  ‘I’ve phoned for the ambulance; it’s on its way. Oh, Kenny, would you go up and open the gates so they won’t be delayed getting in?’

  ‘Sure.’ Kenny took to his heels and Mrs Feeney had to laugh.

  ‘I don’t think it will be here that quick even though it’s not that far up the road.’

  It took the ambulance fifteen minutes, and another ten before Mr Feeney was assessed and given first aid before being lifted into the back of it. Much to the gathered children’s disappointment it did not speed off with lights flashing and alarms wailing, but Carrie was relieved that her client hadn’t had a heart attack, and that his condition wasn’t too serious as far as they knew.

  ‘I missed it all,’ sulked Davey when she finally got back to the office.

  ‘Don’t be like that, Davey, it wasn’t a nice thing to happen to poor Mr Feeney, and I needed your help. Don’t make me feel bad for asking for it,’ Carrie told him sternly.

  ‘Sorry, Mam,’ he apologized immediately. She loved her son’s good nature and her hug was tight as they made up. She’d lost half an hour of her precious window, but Hannah was still sleeping so she settled down at her desk.

  ‘Carrie, I was wondering about changing our mobile. We’ve bought a new one with central heating. Maher’s in Dunboyne sold it to us. A lovely model called the Leven. It’s got a bedroom with a bay window and en suite and integrated fridge freezer. It’s the business.’ Frank Coyle, a tall, broad man in his fifties, strolled into the office and sat down. ‘Could you sort out a day with them when we could take delivery? Here’s the number and here’s the brochure. Isn’t she a beauty?’

  ‘Sure, Frank,’ she said cheerfully, taking the brochure from him and studying it. His new mobile was a fine model; she just wished he hadn’t come in right at this minute to tell her about it.

  ‘I’ll be needing a new veranda to go round it. Will you organize the carpenter?’ Frank continued.