Divided Loyalties

by Patricia Scanlan

  Noel was like a cat on a hot tin roof and the more agitated he got the more demands he made on her. She was at her wit’s end. Now he hobbled out of the room on his crutches. At least he’d got the hang of them. The first day he was on them he’d kept tripping over them.

  Her mobile rang. It was Shauna.

  ‘Hi,’ her sister said breezily. ‘Are you going to come to the airport with me to collect Bobby tomorrow?’

  ‘No, Shauna, I’m not going to be able to make it,’ Carrie said testily.

  ‘Oh! What’s up? You don’t sound in great form.’

  ‘I’m not. I’ve taken an hour off to come over to Dad’s to change the bed for Bobby and he wants me to dust and hoover not to mention doing the shopping. You’d think it was the Queen that was coming to stay.’

  ‘Well you wouldn’t be too far wrong there,’ Shauna quipped.

  Carrie giggled in spite of herself. ‘Very funny, smartass.’

  ‘You change the bed and leave the hoovering, I’ll come over and do that,’ Shauna offered.

  ‘No, I’ll do it.’ Carrie sighed.

  ‘Stop acting the martyr, I’ll be over in an hour,’ Shauna said briskly. ‘See you.’ She hung up.

  ‘That’s a relief,’ Carrie muttered, not feeling quite as harassed, as she struggled to fit a clean cover over the duvet. And she wasn’t acting the martyr, she thought crossly. Or was she? She grimaced as she slid a pillowcase onto the pillow. Was she adopting the martyr role? She’d need to nip that in the bud, she decided, but she did feel hard done by sometimes. After all, she was the only one living at home and she was the one who took care of their father in his hour of need. And his hours of need were becoming more frequent. She sighed. Maybe she just wasn’t good at coping. Other women seemed to juggle far better than she did. A woman in the village had her mother who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease living with her, and she had three teenagers to cope with. ‘Get over yourself,’ she muttered as she placed two towels neatly on the end of the bed.

  ‘Dad, Shauna’s going to dust and hoover; I’ve got to get back to work,’ she said five minutes later once the bedroom was sorted.

  ‘Have a cup of tea before you go,’ he invited, leaning on his crutch.

  ‘No, Dad, I’m in a rush. I’m supposed to be at work,’ she explained.

  ‘I think you’ve taken on too much with that caravan park,’ Noel grumbled. ‘You hardly have time to talk to me these days. Sit down and have a cup of tea with me. It won’t take a minute.’

  Guilt smote her. Her father was right. She hardly had time to bless herself these days, let alone sit and chat to him. Noel wasn’t the only one who was neglected. Poor Dan was getting a droopy vegetable sitting beside him on the sofa in the evenings. Once she’d made the school lunches, prepared the meal for the following day and ironed only what had to be ironed, she’d sit beside him on the sofa yawning her head off. Having a job outside the home was far from easy, she was beginning to realize. But she had to admit she enjoyed the challenge of it. She’d settle into it in time.

  ‘A quick cuppa then.’ She relented. ‘I’ll make it.’

  ‘No, you sit down and relax. I’ll make it. You look tired,’ Noel insisted, hobbling to the sink. ‘It’s the least I can do for you.’

  Her heart sank. She would have been quicker doing it herself but it would have made her father feel bad. He still looked a little shaken after his accident. She knew his foot was very painful. It was all the colours of the rainbow, much to his grandchildren’s fascination. They charted its progress every day, noting the changing colours of purple and red, yellow and blue with ghoulish curiosity.

  They’d told Shauna at the hospital that there was nothing you could do for broken toes and that they would just heal themselves. But he wasn’t able to drive, or come up to her for his dinner, so she was doing the meals on wheels run again and it was time-consuming. And time was something she seemed to have precious little of lately.

  She sat on her hands and took a few deep breaths. If she was this whacked and harassed in June, what was it going to be like in July and August when the site was full and buzzing? Maybe she didn’t have what it took to be a businesswoman, she thought gloomily. Ruth Conroy, a friend of hers who owned Seashells, the café on the main street, and had two children, never seemed fazed by the demands made on her and she was the epitome of elegance at all times. Carrie sighed deeply. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a cream top and was far from elegant right at this moment. Hannah had given her a big soppy hug earlier, straight after eating a carton of strawberry yoghurt. Carrie had a yoghurt stain on her right shoulder and a tomato ketchup stain on her jeans. Far, far from elegant, she thought with a wry grin. She felt she was juggling dozens of balls and that they were all going to fall down and whack her on the head.

  At least Bobby was going to be here for a few days. That would take the pressure off her for a while. She knew he wasn’t over the moon about the idea of staying with Noel. He’d have preferred to come and go as it suited him. And he’d be a lot more comfortable in Shauna’s guest room.

  Tough! She gave a little shrug. Whether he liked it or not, Bobby was part of the family and all that it entailed. It was time he took on some of the responsibilities that came with it.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re heading out. I’ve hardly seen you.’ Sylvia Lyons, one of Shauna’s neighbours, pouted as she stood at the front door.

  ‘Sorry, Sylvia. Dad had an accident and Bobby’s coming to stay so I’m shooting over to Whiteshells Bay to give Carrie a hand.’

  ‘Oh dear. Nothing serious, I hope.’

  ‘Broken toes, bad bruising. Painful, awkward, but not serious,’ Shauna assured her.

  ‘So when are we going to have time for a gossip? I met Alice yesterday and she tells me you’re organizing the lunch. I’m looking forward to it. She said you’re having it before she goes away.’ Sylvia arched an eyebrow at her.

  ‘Did she now?’ Shauna said tightly. ‘She door-stepped me the other day to tell me about her Caribbean cruise. She’s such hard going, Sylvia. To tell you the truth, I’m sorely tempted to have it when she’s away.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ her neighbour approved. ‘She’s so rude, you know.’ Sylvia ran her fingers through her mane of blond hair, hooked her thumbs into her jeans and leaned against the porch, all ready for a gossip. ‘Paula Weldon had a lunch about a month ago and she had a delicious lamb dish that she served with baby potatoes. And Alice turned round and said to Jill Conroy, “I hate those baby potatoes.” I’m sure Paula heard her. Jill was mortified.’

  ‘I bet. Typical Alice. Do you know when she’s going away?’ Shauna probed.

  ‘The last week in June. I think.’ Sylvia furrowed her brow trying to remember exactly when their neighbour was heading off.

  ‘I’m waiting until she’s gone. The last thing I need is pain-in-the-ass Alice rabbiting on about her holiday. Look, why don’t you come in tonight and we’ll open a bottle of wine and catch up?’ she invited. ‘I have to get going, Carrie’s waiting on me,’ she added hastily, noting that Chloe was starting to look fed up in the back seat of the car.

  ‘Terrific. I’ll enjoy that. I could do with a bit of diversion,’ Sylvia agreed.

  ‘Right. I’ll see you later.’ Shauna pulled the door closed and got into the car and reversed out the drive.

  Honestly, her neighbours were gas, she thought with wry amusement. Sylvia had just said she needed a bit of diversion. Alice was going round talking about the lunch as if it was a given. It would be nice for a change if one of them organized a lunch for her.

  Shauna frowned. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She just wasn’t in the humour for socializing. She’d done so much of it the past year. She wanted a bit of space. Maybe she was starting the change early or something; she’d read about women having it in their late thirties.

  ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’ she muttered as she slowed down to allow Orla Jenkins to pass by in her Saab. Orla stopped an
d rolled down her window.

  ‘Welcome home, Shauna. You look fantastic. How’s life?’

  ‘Great, Orla. How are you?’

  ‘Oh, don’t talk. I’ve had a terrible year. Denis and I are having problems. We’re going to counselling. He had an affair,’ she confided morosely.

  ‘Oh! I’m sorry to hear that,’ Shauna murmured.

  ‘Why don’t I pop over for coffee in the morning? I’ll tell you all about it then. You can advise me.’ Orla brightened up.

  ‘Actually, I’ve got Bobby coming tomorrow and we’ll be going to Whiteshells Bay. I’ll catch up with you one of the days,’ Shauna said, relieved beyond measure that she had Bobby as an excuse. Listening to Orla Jenkins moaning was not for the faint-hearted. She thrived on drama and angst. It was her life’s blood.

  ‘Oh! OK then.’ Orla was deflated. She was longing to tell Shauna of Denis’s callous betrayal and bask in the sympathy that her friend would offer. ‘See you whenever.’ She drove past and Shauna headed out of their cul-de-sac.

  ‘I can’t wait to see Uncle Bobby,’ Chloe piped up from the back seat. ‘I’m glad we’re collecting him ’cos I bet Olivia and Davey wishes that they were.’

  ‘Don’t be like that, Chloe,’ Shauna chided, wishing Chloe wasn’t so prone to triumphalism. It probably stemmed from being an only child and maybe from the fact that she felt she wasn’t getting as much parental attention as her cousins did. Daggers of guilt pierced her heart in a thousand cuts. Chloe was left in Filomena’s care more than she should be, Shauna acknowledged, and as far as Greg was concerned, there were days when he never saw their child. He’d be gone to work before she was up and often she’d be in bed when he got home if he had a function or business do to attend.

  She was glad she was going to Whiteshells Bay for the afternoon. At least Chloe would have her cousins to play with. She’d sat on the low front wall earlier, watching other young children playing together, but not invited to join in, and not brave enough to push herself forward. Shauna’s heart stung as she watched her timid daughter. Go on, she urged silently. Be brave. But Chloe had just sat watching forlornly until Shauna could stand it no longer and had called her in and asked her if she would like to watch a video. This summer she was going to devote a lot of time to her daughter, she vowed, as she picked up speed and headed northwards.

  ‘It’s so peaceful here,’ she sighed a couple of hours later as she sat on the veranda of a vacant mobile sipping a cup of tea. She could hear the laughter of children up in the playground and was utterly content knowing that Chloe was in the middle of them having a ball.

  She’d hoovered and dusted her dad’s house and brought him and all the kids to Seashells Café for a meal to save Carrie from cooking. Noel had enjoyed a steak, and the kids, including Hannah, had gobbled up a tasty chicken and pasta dish. She’d dropped her father home and settled him in before strolling down to the caravan park to see how her sister was getting on. Everything was calm and peaceful. Carrie, looking a lot less harassed, informed her proudly that she was finally on top of her paperwork, thanks to the couple of hours of peace and quiet she’d had to work in the office without having to worry about Hannah and the others.

  ‘Let’s have a cup of tea on the veranda,’ she’d suggested and Shauna was happy to agree. She could hear the shushing of the waves against the shore and it soothed her more than any tranquillizer could. The smell of fresh cut grass was sweeter than any perfume and she inhaled the fragrant scent wafting on the breeze with pleasure.

  ‘I wish I could spend the summer here,’ she said casually. ‘I had Sylvia asking me when I’m having my lunch, and she’s calling in tonight for, as she put it herself, “a bit of diversion”. Honest to God, Carrie, sometimes I feel I’m the summer entertainment. Orla Jenkins invited herself over for coffee to whinge about her husband’s affair. If I were married to her I’d have an affair. She’s the pits. I’ve never known anyone who is so consumed with herself and her problems. And of course, dear Alice no doubt will be annoying me about the lunch as well. I wish they’d all feck off and leave me alone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I just don’t want to organize anything!’

  ‘I suppose you do so much socializing in Abu Dhabi it’s nice just to sit and flop,’ Carrie observed, stretching like a cat, warmed by the heat of the late afternoon sun. Bees hummed in the geraniums and a lark sang in the trees opposite them.

  ‘It’s great that Chloe’s up there playing with the others. She’s very timid sometimes. Maybe I should book one of your mobiles for a couple of weeks.’ Shauna looked over at her sister questioningly.

  ‘Too late. The rented ones are fully booked from the weekend, unless we get a cancellation. It’s a pity I didn’t know; it would have been perfect,’ Carrie said regretfully.

  ‘Drat!’ Shauna muttered. ‘I could have sent Filomena home to the Philippines early and Chloe and I could have had a great time.’

  ‘I wonder would the Feeneys rent their mobile out?’ Carrie mused. ‘They have it up for sale. Mr Feeney had a fall a few days ago and when he was in hospital they found he needed an urgent triple bypass. They’ve decided to sell up. They’re going to move to Cork to be near their daughter. They’re from Cork originally.’ She sat up straight. ‘I could give them a ring and put it to Mrs Feeney.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘We’d have great fun, Shauna. We could do barbecues at night and watch the stars and get tiddly when the kids were in bed. Will I ring her?’

  ‘Why bother renting? Why don’t I just buy it outright and have it for good?’ Shauna exclaimed.

  ‘Crikey, Shauna, they’re looking for thirty-two thousand euros. It’s practically new. It’s only two years old.’

  ‘I’ll buy it as an investment. You can rent it out when I’m not using it.’ Shauna couldn’t disguise her excitement. ‘I could move in straight away. I wouldn’t have to entertain anyone. I wouldn’t have to do a ladies’ lunch. I’d stay here until August. Oh, Carrie, it’s too good to be true. I’m going to ring Greg.’ She scrabbled in her bag and found her mobile and scrolled down until she got her husband’s number. She dialled it and waited impatiently for him to answer. He might have it on silent, depending on what type of function he was at. He’d hardly be at home.

  ‘Answer! Answer!’ she urged.

  ‘Hello!’ Greg sounded groggy.

  ‘You weren’t asleep, were you?’ she asked in dismay. ‘It’s only—’ She glanced at her watch.

  ‘No, no, no problem. I’m watching football. How’s it going?’

  ‘Great. Will I ring you on the landline?’

  ‘No, I’m still in Dubai. I’ll be home tomorrow. I’ll ring you on the landline then. Everything OK? Is Chloe OK?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Listen, it’s a long story but what would you think of us buying a mobile home? Carrie and Dan have bought the caravan park down the road from them and there’s a mobile home for sale. There’s also good investment potential,’ she exaggerated, using a phrase that was always music to her husband’s ears.

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Thirty-two thousand euros.’ Shauna crossed her fingers. ‘There’s central heating and all mod cons and an en suite in the master bedroom. I’d really like it, and Chloe would be over the moon,’ she added.

  There was a long pause and then a low whistle. ‘That’s a lot of money for a caravan,’ Greg exclaimed.

  ‘Oh, it’s much, much more than a caravan. It’s like a small house. Lots of people are actually buying mobile homes to live in because they can’t afford houses,’ Shauna explained, crossing her fingers again. ‘Honestly, they’re good investments these days and there’s no stamp duty on them and they’ve a great resale value,’ she added, playing her trump card.

  ‘Go for it, then,’ her husband instructed. ‘I’ll get the bank here to transfer the money first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, Greg, thanks a million. I’ll make the call to the vendors to let them know that they’ve got a sale. Greg, you’re going to enjoy it
here. I love you so much.’ She was nearly crying with gratitude.

  ‘I love you too. Take some photos and email them to me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, OK?’

  ‘OK, Greg. I can’t wait to tell Chloe. ’Night.’

  ‘’Night, Shauna.’

  She heard the dial tone and gave Carrie the thumbs up. ‘I can buy it. Quick, ring those people.’

  ‘Way to go, Shauna. Imagine being able to put your hands on thirty-two thousand euros just like that.’ Carrie eyed her in amusement.

  ‘Yeah well, working in the Gulf can be very financially rewarding,’ Shauna said dryly. ‘Greg might not get to see Chloe as much as he’d like but he makes plenty of money.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s not going to change and Chloe and I have to adapt and deal with it or forget it. I don’t think we’d last as a couple if I insisted he come home to Ireland now,’ she confessed. ‘I keep telling myself that it’s only for another year or two. That’s how I keep going. Eventually, though, we’re going to have to come home for Chloe’s sake. And with the political situation out there, who knows what’s going to happen.’

  ‘That’s not easy, Shauna,’ Carrie said quietly, shocked at her sister’s disclosures. She hadn’t quite realized just how difficult things were for her.

  ‘No, it’s not. People think I’ve a great life. They don’t see behind the facade. But hell, enough of this. Ring those people and see if they’ll sell me their mobile home,’ she ordered.

  ‘Yes, boss!’ Carrie smiled at her, hardly able to believe what was happening.

  Greg looked at the mobile phone and marvelled that moments ago he’d been speaking to his wife on the other side of the world. It was an amazing invention, he reflected despondently. He’d been asleep when she phoned, drugged on painkillers and exhausted after a night tossing and turning. No-one had told him that the discomfort would be so bad. He’d phoned the clinic and Bob had assured him that everything was normal and that the discomfort would ease as the days went by.

  If Shauna had asked him for sixty thousand euros he’d have given it to her. He was crucified with guilt, never having thought that he was capable of such duplicity. Even thinking about it now was enough to bring him out in a sweat.