Divided Loyalties

by Patricia Scanlan

  You’re only staying for a while until you get over the shock and sort things out in your head, she argued with herself as the taxi beeped outside.

  ‘The taxi’s here,’ she called.

  Moments later Greg came down the stairs followed by Chloe, clutching her music box.

  ‘’Bye, honeybunch,’ he said gruffly. ‘Be a good girl for Mom.’

  ‘I will, Dad,’ she assured him, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.

  ‘See you,’ he said to Shauna.

  ‘’Bye,’ she murmured, stepping aside to let him out the door.

  ‘Dad, Dad.’ Chloe ran after him. ‘I forgot. I brought you this. It’s a stone with an angel in it. Carrie bought it for me but you can have it to mind you.’ She thrust a grey stone with the shape of a small white angel imprinted in it into his hand.

  ‘That’s really kind, darling. Thank you.’ Greg took it from her and slipped it into his pocket. He couldn’t believe how touched he felt by her little act of kindness. ‘I love you, Chloe,’ he said. ‘And Shauna . . . I’m sorry.’ He climbed into the taxi and closed the door.

  Shauna watched it leave and didn’t know whether she was on her head or her heels.

  38

  Shauna watched the For Sale sign being erected beside her big wooden electronic gates and felt a huge sense of relief. The past weeks had been a nightmare. She’d been commuting between Whiteshells Bay and Malahide and feeling ever more unsettled as the days went by. The only positive aspect to the whole sorry situation was how well Chloe had settled into her new school. She was making new friends and really coming out of her shell, and the security of having her cousins near was a huge plus for her.

  Shauna felt like a nomad. She’d hated going back to the house in Malahide. She knew she was going to have to tell the neighbours about her split with Greg. She’d told them that she was staying in Ireland until after Christmas. She’d used Noel’s health as an excuse. They expected her to be her usual, social, bubbly self, and she was finding it hard going keeping up the facade.

  She knew she couldn’t keep going in the limbo she was in. It wasn’t feasible to spend the winter in the mobile home and the thought of driving to and fro up the M1 daunted her. One morning she’d woken up and decided enough was enough. She needed to move nearer to Whiteshells Bay and she wanted to leave her house in Malahide and get away from the claustrophobia she was feeling surrounded by her neighbours in the cul-de-sac. They were always popping in for coffee, or inviting her into their houses, and she just wanted to be on her own.

  She’d seen new apartments nearing the end of construction along the coast road at the edge of Whiteshells Bay and had gone to view them when they were launched. Without even asking Greg, she’d impulsively paid a booking deposit for the penthouse. It was even bigger than the apartment in Abu Dhabi and had huge wraparound balconies that gave panoramic views all along the east coast. It had three bedrooms, two with en suite, two reception rooms and a study, and a state-of-the-art kitchen that had Carrie pea green with envy.

  ‘I’ll move in with you,’ she’d teased as she wandered around the light-filled airy rooms with her sister.

  ‘Do you think I should buy?’ Shauna felt strangely exhilarated at the prospect of a fresh start.

  ‘I think it would be a good move for you,’ Carrie said slowly. ‘If you and Greg do get back together, you still have a home in Ireland. And if you don’t, it will be your and Chloe’s home for as long as you decide to live here.’

  ‘We’re staying here until she’s finished primary school at least. She deserves that much stability,’ Shauna had said firmly, taking out her chequebook.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ring Greg and discuss it with him?’ Carrie asked hesitantly.

  ‘Did he ring me to discuss it when he was going for a vasectomy?’ Shauna retorted tartly, pen poised.

  ‘Oh . . . OK . . .’ Carrie had murmured.

  Shauna smiled as she remembered the look on her sister’s face. She imagined it was nothing compared to the look on Greg’s face when she’d phoned him and told him of her plans.

  ‘Hey, steady on. We need to discuss this,’ he’d blustered.

  ‘No we don’t,’ Shauna had snapped coldly. ‘I’m moving nearer to Chloe’s school. I’m selling the house in Malahide, which I might remind you is in my name, and you have no say in the matter, just as I had no say in the matter when you went off and had your vasectomy. End of conversation!’

  ‘Do what you want, Shauna,’ Greg gritted and hung up.

  ‘Don’t you worry, I will,’ Shauna retorted as she replaced the receiver.

  She had her husband worried. The threat of a forensic accountant had been a masterstroke and she didn’t even know where it had come from. For the first time in ages she felt she was starting to control her own life again. It felt good. She watched as the last nail was hammered into the sign and prepared for the knocks on the door.

  She’d ordered a selection of canapés and a cold buffet from her caterer, and a dozen bottles of champagne. And then she’d asked her neighbours to come to lunch. It would be her last ladies’ lunch in Malahide and that too was a liberation of sorts.

  ‘You’re selling up! You never said. How much are you looking for?’ Alice shrieked when Shauna opened the door to her twenty minutes later. Sylvia Lyons arrived on her heels.

  ‘What’s going on? You’re putting the house up for sale? You can’t do that.’

  Shauna saw Maria strolling up the path just as Hilary, her next-door neighbour, emerged through her front door and another trio of neighbours hastened across the road.

  ‘Ladies, let’s have a glass of champagne and I’ll tell you all together,’ Shauna said calmly, ushering them all in. They clip-clopped across the wooden floor into the lounge, agog. ‘Tuck into the champers, girls.’ Shauna handed out slim flutes of sparkling Moët.

  ‘Aren’t you having some?’ Hilary asked.

  ‘Can’t, have to drive over to Whiteshells Bay to collect Chloe. That’s why I’m moving. It’s too much of a commute.’

  ‘But why didn’t you put her into a school here?’ Maria asked. ‘Surely it would have made more sense.’

  Shauna took a deep breath. ‘Because Greg and I are separated at the moment and she needs the security of her family around her, as I do myself,’ she said crisply.

  Alice spluttered her champagne, and coughed as tears came to her eyes when it went against her breath. This was gossip! Gossip of the highest order. She couldn’t wait to tell her cronies.

  ‘That’s terrible!’

  ‘How sad.’

  Hilary and Maria moved to Shauna’s side, concerned for her. She liked them both and planned to keep in touch with them, but the rest of her neighbours were not what she’d call friends.

  ‘I wanted to come home for Chloe; I wanted her to go to school here. Greg doesn’t want to settle in Ireland. He loves it out in the Gulf. It’s all quite amicable,’ she fibbed. That was all they needed to know. She wouldn’t dream of telling them about the real reason for their split.

  ‘That’s such a shame,’ murmured Maria.

  ‘Where are you moving to?’ Alice demanded, having recovered her equilibrium.

  ‘Whiteshells Bay,’ Shauna said cheerfully.

  ‘The sticks!’ Alice’s nose wrinkled. ‘How provincial.’

  ‘Alice!’ hissed Hilary.

  ‘Well it is the sticks, Hilary,’ Shauna murmured, amused in spite of herself. ‘Don’t worry, Alice, I won’t expect you to visit,’ she said sweetly, and then excused herself to go and answer the phone. It was another neighbour saying that she couldn’t make the lunch, and as she listened to the babble and buzz of chattering coming from her lounge she felt a huge sense of relief that her news was out in the open and she’d be gone to her new penthouse in plenty of time for Christmas.

  WINTER

  (the same year)

  39

  ‘God above, it’s freezing,’ Shauna complained as she trudged across the b
each with Carrie. ‘I’d forgotten how cold it gets in the winter,’ she added as she pulled her scarf tighter round her face so that all that was showing was her nose.

  ‘Stop moaning, you wimp.’ Carrie grinned. She was walking bare-headed, letting the wind whip her auburn hair around her face. It was a Sunday afternoon on the last day of November. They were walking off the big roast dinner they had eaten in Carrie’s an hour previously.

  ‘Greg wants to come home for Christmas,’ Shauna said slowly as she kicked a piece of driftwood out of her way.

  ‘And what do you want?’

  Shauna sighed. ‘I don’t know. I’m trying to think of Chloe and what’s best for her.’

  ‘Well if he doesn’t come home you’re more than welcome to come to us on Christmas Day, you know that,’ Carrie said warmly.

  ‘Or we could have it in my new pad,’ Shauna suggested.

  ‘That sounds good, but would you be up to it?’

  ‘I’m not an invalid, Carrie,’ Shauna said dryly.

  ‘I know that. Are you sorry that you sold the house in Malahide?’ Carrie asked.

  ‘God no! I couldn’t bear all the nosy patronizing once they found out Greg and I had split. I’d never be free of it. At least this way it’s a fresh start with new neighbours. And an apartment is much more practical for us.’

  ‘Apartment,’ snorted Carrie. ‘It’s a penthouse.’

  ‘True.’ Shauna grinned. ‘It was such a pain in the ass having to come over from Malahide every day, anyway. It was driving me nuts. I got nothing done. Those apartments are perfect for us.’ She squinted along the shore to where she could see the elegant sandstone and glass building that housed their new home. She and Chloe had moved in a week ago. ‘They came on the market at just the right time for me.’

  ‘They’re ideal for you,’ Carrie agreed. ‘I wonder what will Greg think when he sees it.’

  Shauna shrugged. ‘Who cares what he thinks? If he comes to visit he can sleep in the third bedroom. And if he comes to visit in the summer I’ll be in the mobile. That’s why I kept it.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound as if you’re planning to get back together,’ Carrie murmured.

  ‘Just let’s say I’m keeping my options open,’ Shauna said grimly. ‘You know, it’s ironic. Greg’s never had so much communication with Chloe. He emails her most days and phones three or four times a week. When he got the Dubai job last year he could go three or four days on the trot without ever seeing or talking to her.’

  ‘Well at least he’s making the effort to keep in touch,’ Carrie commented.

  ‘I suppose so.’ Shauna frowned. ‘She’s really happy at school here, isn’t she?’ She glanced down to the shore where the four children were dancing in the foamy wash of the waves in their bright red wellingtons.

  ‘She’s thriving.’ Carrie threw a stick for a dog that bounded along the beach, tail wagging.

  ‘She’s even going to be in the Christmas play. Remember the last play we were at on the Christmas morning before we went to Abu Dhabi? Two of the angels had a fight?’

  ‘Yeah, and remember Olivia singing “Little Donkey” at Mam’s grave? And Chloe singing “BimBamBom”!’ Carrie smiled at the memory.

  ‘Hannah wasn’t even born. Can you believe it? Look at them all now,’ Shauna marvelled.

  ‘That was the year the Freeloaders invited themselves.’ Carrie made a face. ‘I wonder has Della had the baby yet?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care and I certainly won’t be asking Greg about her.’

  ‘I suppose we can be thankful for small mercies that you’re not involved with them any more. Could you imagine Della, Eddie and three kids? The mind boggles.’ Carrie laughed.

  ‘I’m not even going there,’ Shauna retorted. ‘Can you imagine another Ashley?’

  ‘Let’s change the subject,’ Carrie said hastily.

  Please don’t let it be another boy, Della prayed as her labour pains intensified and she groaned in agony. Her epidural hadn’t taken and she was in the throes of labour. She wished Eddie were here so she could hurl abuse at him, but he never came to the delivery ward with her. Not after he’d fainted the first time with Kathryn and broken his nose.

  This was definitely the last time she was getting pregnant. Shauna was crazy to want to. If Eddie had gone and had the snip behind her back she’d have given him a medal. He was going to have to do something, because she wasn’t letting him near her again unless she was absolutely certain there was no chance of her getting pregnant. She didn’t mind a life of celibacy. Sex wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, anyway. Well, certainly not with Eddie, she thought crabbily.

  ‘Come on, Mrs Keegan, one last push,’ the midwife urged.

  ‘I can’t,’ she whimpered.

  ‘You can. Push.’

  ‘Uuugggg,’ groaned Della as a pain that nearly split her in two creased her body and the baby shot out of her.

  ‘Well done, well done,’ she heard the midwife say from far away. ‘You’ve got a lovely baby boy.’

  Oh no! she thought before she fainted clean away.

  ‘Bobby, I was just thinking, maybe you and I could cook Christmas dinner this year. You know the way the girls are so good to me. I’d like to repay them somehow. And it’s been such a rough year for Shauna, it might be nice for her to have all her family around her at a difficult time.’ Noel’s voice came excitedly down the phone.

  Bobby’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t planned on going home for Christmas. He and Anton had planned on going to Anton’s folks for the festive season. ‘I’m not sure if I’m off this Christmas,’ he fibbed. ‘I’ll have to check it out and get back to you.’

  ‘Oh! I hadn’t thought of that.’ Noel sounded deflated.

  ‘How are things otherwise?’ Bobby asked guiltily.

  ‘Not bad. Shauna moved into her new apartment last week. It’s got a great view. They’re built at the edge of the village. It’s very handy for young Chloe going to school. I was hoping they’d move in with me,’ he confided.

  ‘They’re probably better off to have a place of their own,’ Bobby said diplomatically.

  Noel chuckled. ‘Shauna said we wouldn’t last a week. She’s a bit more excitable than Carrie, you know.’

  Bobby laughed. ‘That’s putting it mildly. I’ll get back to you about Christmas, Dad.’

  ‘All right, son. It was just a thought. I wouldn’t manage it on my own. I’m not the world’s greatest cook but you’re pretty nifty in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’ll get back to you soon. See you, Dad. Take care.’ He hung up and turned to Anton, who was sprawled on the sofa watching an old black and white Bette Davis film. ‘You’ll never believe what Dad’s concocted. He wants him and me to cook for the gang in his house on Christmas Day. Oh, can you believe it?’ he groaned. ‘I had to lie and say I thought I might be working. If I told him I was going to your parents for Christmas he’d take it badly. Especially when he wants to cook dinner for the girls so that he can do something for all their kindness to him. Oohhh, I feel such a heel.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Anton murmured. ‘Dilemma, dilemma.’

  ‘No dilemma. I’ve made my arrangements with you,’ Bobby said grumpily.

  ‘Your dad’s getting old. You can always come to us for New Year,’ Anton suggested.

  ‘How come you’re much nicer than me?’ Bobby grumbled.

  ‘You haven’t been home for Christmas for a long time. Since before you met me, actually,’ Anton pointed out.

  ‘I was working last year,’ Bobby retorted.

  ‘I think you should go.’

  ‘If you were able to come with me I wouldn’t give a toss. It would be a hoot,’ he moaned, looking hopefully at his partner.

  ‘Not for your father,’ Anton said gently. ‘He’d be very uncomfortable. He’s not going to change. It wouldn’t work. Be realistic. I can’t come. It would be terrible if everything you’ve both achieved fell apart.’

  ‘Why does it have to be all about hi
m? Don’t you want to spend Christmas with me? Aren’t you disappointed that we’re not going to be together? Do you love me at all? You’re making me feel very rejected,’ Bobby said petulantly.

  Anton laughed. ‘And what drama are we enacting today? The paranoid lover? Of course I love you. Of course I’m disappointed, you idiot. Of course I’d love to go to Ireland with you. Of course I want to spend Christmas with you, but the fact that your dad has asked you to come home and cook Christmas dinner with him is almost a miracle. Isn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ sighed Bobby. ‘As usual!’

  ‘Go on. You’ll be glad you did. Your sister could do with some TLC. This is her first Christmas on her own. It won’t be easy for her.’

  ‘Enough of the guilt trips!’ Bobby threw a cushion at his partner. ‘I’ll go. I’ll be a shoulder for Shauna to cry on and I’ll cook the friggin’ Christmas dinner.’

  ‘And I’ll cook you the best New Year dinner you ever tasted,’ Anton promised, laughing heartily at his beloved’s theatrics.

  ‘Now, girls, I’ve a proposal to put to the pair of you and I hope you’ll say yes,’ Noel said to his daughters as they sat in his kitchen having a cup of tea with him. His eyes were gleaming with anticipation.

  ‘What’s that, Dad?’ Carrie couldn’t hide her curiosity. It was unusual for Noel to be so animated.

  ‘Well, Bobby and I would like to have you all come here for Christmas dinner. It’s our turn to put on a feast for you,’ he informed them earnestly.

  ‘Oh! I was planning on having Christmas in my place,’ Shauna said in surprise. Noel held up his hand.

  ‘No, Shauna. I insist. It’s our turn and we’d be delighted to do it. You’ve had a tough time. Bobby and I would like to be the hosts this year.’

  ‘It sounds great, Dad.’ Carrie leaned back in her chair. ‘I’ll go anywhere I’m invited.’

  ‘Now, the only thing is, I might need to borrow cutlery and plates. But Bobby can sort that out, he’ll know better than me. We’ll use your mother’s good linen tablecloth and napkins, and maybe one of you might do a centrepiece for the table the way she used to. I think I might get the dining room painted. And I’ll have to get the chimney swept so that we can light a fire in it. I haven’t used that room in so long. It will be nice to have a Christmas dinner in it.’ He was delighted. ‘Wait until I tell Mrs O’Neill. She’s having her daughter and son-in-law and three grandchildren over from Australia for Christmas, so the two houses will be full on Christmas Day.’