Promises Made- Promises Kept

by Jaclyn Rosamond

  ‘You’re very serious tonight,’ he said, tucking me back against him. ‘What’s brought that on?’

  ‘Nothing in particular.’ I agreed, I’m far too serious. Laughing came easily in close company, but this holiday had put me on edge. ‘Maybe crowds make me uncomfortable.’ I settled my head on his shoulder again.

  The DJ announced one last smoochy number before he packed away his equipment for the night.

  Cal cut in, partway through this last dance. ‘Do you mind?’

  Eddie hesitated. ‘Sure, she’s all yours.’ He handed me over and sauntered off into the path of a determined Mona, he turned to roll his eyes at me, mouthing a silent ‘Oh, no.’

  Eyes dancing, I turned to Cal. ‘Another cougar on the prowl. You two are popular tonight.’ I’d seen him dancing with some of the desperate housewives.

  ‘I’ve been propositioned by three of them this evening. They’re after my virtue.’ His face was solemn, but his eyes danced wickedly.

  I giggled. ‘Can you resist?’

  ‘God, yes!’

  I snickered at his heartfelt answer. ‘Stay pure, Cal. There’s someone somewhere who’ll love you for that.’

  I sensed a sudden intensity, a subtle change in his body and my body tingled in response. My eyes met his, both of us mirroring a question. My mind warned danger. I ignored it.

  He gave a lopsided smile and pulled me close, breaking the moment. I relaxed into him, enjoying his strong arms around me. As we danced, I couldn’t help but wonder two things: who had hurt him so badly that he’d escaped to this life and, much closer to home – what would have happened if I’d met Cal instead of Eddie.

  Chapter Three

  We arrived home on a Saturday. After sampling the delights of beaches, mountains, ocean and shopping til we dropped, we were greeted by leaden skies and teeming rain. Our three-bedroom semi seemed dreary, and a return to our normal lives dismal.

  Lugging wet suitcases inside, I mustered a bright smile.

  ‘At least the rain has watered our gardens.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever.’ He stumbled over a suitcase, cursing. ‘It smells musty in here.’

  My smile disappeared. I sniffed the air. He was right. I whizzed around, and half an hour later, windows opened a fraction, coffee brewing, suitcases ready to unpack, our house felt normal.

  Normality didn’t bother me. I loved my little home, bought a few years before I met Eddie. Living room dusted and vacuumed, hands on hips, I stood surveying the furniture, seeing how I felt about my house. Our house, I corrected myself.

  Two sofas in heavy navy cotton still looked fresh, with plumped up cream and denim cushions, a stark contrast to Eddie’s faded brown armchairs. They seemed to sit there looking both defiant and apologetic amongst up-to-date furnishings. When he moved in Eddie brought his own mishmash of furniture, and I couldn’t fault him for that. It was just… less welcoming. Somehow shabby. I like clean lines, Eddie likes clutter. We no longer argued over home decorating – he doesn’t care about surroundings and, while I do, I’ve learned to place it as a low priority.

  The house needed fresh paint throughout. Eddie has never painted a room and won’t pay a painter. I’m mulling over doing weekend painting. The whole issue had been forgotten in the run up to our wedding, but now, as I looked around, I could see afresh the need to renew paintwork. Given Eddie’s mood right now, I knew it wasn’t up for discussion.

  Stowing cleaning supplies, I found Eddie occupying a barstool in the kitchen, flipping through mail.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re back to all this crap. Bills, junk mail, boredom.’

  Never bored at home, I strove for patience, massaging his shoulders, hoping to lighten his moodiness.

  ‘I know it’s ho-hum being back. It’s not glamourous like Hawaii, but lawns still need mowing, meals still need to be made. This is normal life.’

  He shrugged me off.

  ‘I’m going to the study.’ He mooched off, kicking the swinging door on his way out of the kitchen.

  I took coffee through to him. Plonked in front of our desktop computer, he cruised the internet, determined to ignore reality.

  He took the mug without comment.

  I tried encouragement. ‘Maybe we could spice up our lives a bit with weekends away and romantic dinners. What do you think?’

  ‘Hm.’ Eyes glued to the screen, he muttered, ‘I like the sound of that. How about a long weekend in Wales? Or maybe the Peak District? Something different. Or Manchester later this year for the footy?’ He turned, seeing my face fall. ‘Not the footy then, not your speed, is it?’

  Not for the first time I wished I could raise an interest in sports. But my genes recoiled. I’d tried with boyfriends over the years. Nothing had stuck. Grown men chasing a piece of leather around a field, while better than actual tribal warfare, had zero appeal.

  My dislike of sport was equaled by Eddie’s dislike of anything to do with

  gardening.

  Neither of us understood each other’s interests.

  His mood stayed with him on Sunday. The sky a glorious blue, I flew around, unpacking, hanging out washing and mowing the lawns. Eddie downloaded holiday photos on our computer and made macaroni cheese for dinner. He had a few basic cooking skills.

  On Monday our daily routine recommenced and holiday memories faded a little.

  Friday night pub get-together drifted around after an endless week of Eddie’s complaints. While I loved my work, his work held little interest for him. I hoped meeting at the pub with our gang would sort out his sulks.

  The usual suspects gathered at an ancient oak table in the beer garden, welcomed us home with lewd comments and sly asides.

  ‘You’d think our honeymoon was the first time we had sex,’ I said to Shona, voice low, after I’d finished laughing.

  ‘Hey, it’s traditional to grill everyone after a honeymoon. Don’t knock traditions, they’re the bedrock of civilized society.’

  ‘Don’t agree,’ I retorted. ‘There are all sorts of traditions around the world that are god-awful and horrifying, especially for women.’

  Shona’s eyes widened. ‘Rose, lighten up, for chrissake. You’ve only just got back. We can talk about serious stuff later, but right now we need some fun. I’ve had a crappy day and all I want to do is unwind. By the way, you look amazing. All bronzed and gorgeous.’

  ‘Thanks, honey bunny. All compliments gratefully received. I’ll make an effort to lighten up.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Make time, give me a smile.’ She snickered at my fake smile. ‘Okaaay…. You need a drink.’

  ‘Yeah, and a good laugh. I had a bugger of a day, too. And Eddie’s been like a bear with a sore head this week. Coming back home’s been a drag for him.’

  ‘Meh. That’s life. White wine for you?’

  I watched her go, model tall and confident, short blonde spiky hair and not a care in the world. She was right, I should chillax.

  Andy plopped down next to me, draping an affectionate arm over my shoulder.

  ‘How’s it going, Rosie posy? Is it good to be home?’

  ‘Most of the time.’ I kissed his cheek.

  ‘Want to talk about what happened on Tuesday?’

  My spirits plummeted. ‘I knew you’d have heard.’ Tuesday had been awful.

  ‘Yup, heard it was a bad one. News travels fast around the hospital. Sorry.’ He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  Brigid overheard and plonked down opposite me.

  ‘That was you?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Bugger. Bad luck. Has Eddie given you some TLC?’

  I shrugged. ‘I haven’t mentioned it. He doesn’t like hearing that stuff.’

  Brigid threw a thin-lipped glance at Eddie. Andy frowned, but said nothing.

  ‘You need to talk to someone,’ Brigid said.

  ‘That’s why I have you two.’

  ‘Okay, hit us with it and see if we can cheer you up.’

  We leaned in for a h
uddle.

  I told them about the stillborn. ‘We all cried, even the obstetrician and he’s usually a tough cookie. The parents named him Peter. We’re all invited to his funeral.’

  ‘Will you go?’ Brigid asked.

  I nodded.

  ‘Do they have any other children?’ Andy asked. ‘Sometimes that helps.’

  I nodded. ‘It might help a bit. They have two girls. Her husband was desperate for a little boy.’

  Shona waltzed up with my wine.

  ‘Bad moment?’ She hovered.

  She’d seen the three of us do this before. We never meant to exclude anyone, but medical talk’s not usually a popular topic. It’s shop talk, no different from Shona talking about her work as a TV camerawoman. I didn’t understand half of what she said, just as Eddie’s accounting work was a mystery to me. He talked to Tony about work.

  ‘No. Sit down. This isn’t the right place for heavy stuff.’ I nodded at the other two. ‘Thanks, guys. I’m glad I could bend your ears for a few moments.’

  ‘Onto to lighter topics, then.’ Andy grinned. ‘How about the fighting in Syria, or white slave trade in Europe?’

  We all groaned.

  Shona came up with the perfect distraction. ‘Hey, do you have any holiday snaps? Is Hawaii as beautiful as the brochures?’

  ‘It’s paradise. Beautiful, with colors so bright it’s like a movie. We loved it. Eddie brought a stack of photos on the laptop.’ I swung the laptop round, watching our photo slide show, amidst murmurs of envy.

  ‘Holy moly! Who’s that?’ Shona pointed at a photo of me with Eddie and Cal at the luau.

  Eddie’s head whipped round, taking in the current photo. ‘That’s Cal. He was our surfing instructor. I discovered a hidden talent for surfing.’ He beamed, sitting taller in his seat. ‘Here, let me show you.’ He scrolled through, finding the photos I’d taken of him conquering the wavelets.

  ‘Impressive.’ Andy clapped him on the back. ‘How about you, Rosie posy, did you learn to surf, too?’

  ‘She was hopeless,’ Eddie said, smirking. ‘She couldn’t stay on a board for even the tiniest waves. She sat on the beach to watch me instead.’

  Tony and Lisa laughed but Shona and Brigid frowned, prickling on my behalf at his casual putdown. I winced, wishing he’d shut up.

  He wittered on about wave sizes and the spiritual rush he felt out on the water. Eddie held the floor, exaggerating the dangers of Cal’s rescue. In the end, the gang seemed impressed, but confused. My husband hadn’t been entirely truthful. Cal’s hero status dropped to almost zero. Only half-amused, I stuck my nose in my glass and stayed quiet.

  Conversation moved on and the photo show was abandoned. Seizing the moment, Shona grabbed the laptop and found the photo of Cal again.

  ‘Check this out. This is the guy Eddie rescued?’

  I snorted a laugh into my wine. ‘What? No, the other way around! Eddie could have broken his neck. Cal was his knight in shining armor.’

  Round-eyed, she murmured, ‘Well, he’s drop dead gorgeous. He can rescue me any time.

  I half-nodded, half-shrugged.

  ‘What? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. How could you not?’

  ‘I’d have to be blind not to notice he was yummy. But I was on my honeymoon, so I can’t say he registered a lot.’

  Not altogether true. That last dance had rocked me, but I wasn’t about to admit it. Shona would juice it up into a mountain. Something I didn’t need.

  ‘He seemed lonely. He’s single, so maybe you should head over to Hawaii to say hello.’ I giggled.

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ She shook her head, laughing. ‘Martin would love that. Not!’ She looked at the photo again. ‘But have you noticed the way he’s looking at you? If I’m not mistaken, he fancied you.’

  Brigid took a closer look. ‘Whoa. Even I think he’s gorgeous. And I’m very choosy.’ She squinted sideways at me. ‘He does look like he’s giving you the eye.’

  Doubting, I leaned in for a good shufti. ‘Don’t think so. Photos tell sweet little lies. Right at that moment I was dying to get some itchy sand out of my you-know-what, only you wouldn’t know it looking at that. I look carefree, while all I wanted to do was head to the bathroom.’ I snapped the laptop closed.

  He’d been giving me the eye? Really? I’d look again. In private.

  Shona laughed, then spotted Martin’s tall figure making his way over. She turned to us with a conspiratorial air, lowering her voice. ‘I think he’s going to pop the question soon. I keep getting excited, then nothing happens. I really don’t want to stuff up this one. I’m getting too old for the whole getting-to-know-someone dating BS.’

  I squeezed her hand, while Brigid crossed her fingers, the three of us exchanged the sort of glance women do so well.

  ‘Not fair, is it?’ I murmured. ‘It’s still a man’s world, otherwise you’d ask him, wouldn’t you?’

  We gave a three-way pinky-shake for luck under the table.

  ‘Aw, shit. Look who’s coming in behind him.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Bianca.’ Brigid grimaced. ‘What’s she doing here? Why’s she bothering with us? I thought we were too dull. She’s dating someone called Joe, isn’t she? She met him at your wedding.’

  Shona muttered ‘Yeah, that’s a bust. He dumped her. I found out from that boutique she works at when I was shopping.’ She stood up, greeting Martin with a lingering kiss.

  ‘Welcome home.’ He leaned over to kiss my cheek. ‘Drinks, ladies?’

  ‘White wine for three of us. Thanks, darling.’ Shona turned to us as he walked away, her voice low. ‘Yeah, she’s been conspicuously absent the last few weeks since your wedding. Maybe she’s here because you’re back home.’

  ‘Hi Bianca,’ I said, from my side of the table.

  Lisa moved along the bench to allow her room to sit.

  ‘How was your holiday?’ Bianca leaned across the table between us. ‘You look nice and brown. Did you see any Hollywood actors?’

  ‘Our honeymoon was lovely, thank you. Lots of sunshine, lots of fun and a bit of a bummer coming back to cloudy England.’ I saw no reason why I shouldn’t be friendly.

  She leaned closer. ‘No-one famous then?’

  ‘I wasn’t looking. Maybe the rich and famous have private beach access to keep us ordinary plebs away.’ I suppose it didn’t surprise me she’d ask that sort of question. Bianca loved gossip about celebrities, whether true or fabricated.

  ‘I thought you’d be out with Joe tonight.’ Lisa nudged her friend’s arm.

  Bianca turned to her, switching on her woeful face, tears glistening. I sat back to watch. Would she allow any to spill over, or would it ruin the face slap she’d plastered on?

  Oh. Wait. There they go. A couple of tears leaked down her cheeks. Her industrial strength mascara didn’t budge.

  ‘He broke up with me.’ She leaked a few more tears. ‘He said I was too serious and he wasn’t ready for commitment.’ She gauged each of us for sympathy. ‘I’m not ready for commitment either. I just want to have fun. You know?’

  Lisa might not know, but Shona, Brigid and I had seen her at school. Boyfriends repaid sexual favors with trinkets. The more expensive, the better. We three knew her well, and exchanged another of those women’s looks. Bianca’s need for attention exceeded our generosity.

  In the usual way of bitchy schoolgirls, we’d speculated on her skills between the sheets. Good, we assumed, because boys kept trotting back for more. Our undertone, of course, was jealousy. No-one bragged about sexual inexperience at school. We exaggerated – but never as much as the boys inflated their abilities.

  Her tears worked. Our gang crowded round her, patting her shoulder, offering tissues. Much to my surprise, Eddie was one of them. Bianca laid it on thick every time she lost a potential meal ticket and gift donor.

  ‘Just look at them all,’ Brigid grumbled. ‘A few crocodile tears and they’re putty in her hands. How does she do it?’

  ‘Yeah, especia
lly dressed like that.’ Shona looked daggers at Bianca’s man-catching ensemble.

  Like a neon sign her outfit screamed “look at me”. A tiny red tank top, practically glued to her body, a scarlet micro-mini, sky-high cheap stilettos and bouffant hair.

  ‘That skirt looks more like a wide belt than a skirt. I’ve seen hookers wearing more clothes than her,’ Brigid said, deadpan.

  Shona and I giggled. Lisa whipped round and glared at us, while Fiona, a newcomer to our gang, stiffened and moved further down the bench. Eddie flashed me an accusing stare.

  Sobering, I shot him enquiring eyebrows. No-one could have heard our whispered asides. Before I could decipher Eddie’s look, Martin approached, a tray of drinks held high.

  ‘Saved by the handsome bloke with the drinks,’ Brigid muttered. ‘I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Tony’s tongue is practically hanging out and he hasn’t taken his eyes off her cleavage since she came in.’

  ‘Lisa will catch him at it any second now.’ We watched. I really wanted Lisa to notice. ‘Oops. There it is. She’s spotted her man ogling the wrong woman.’

  Lisa kicked her husband under the table. He winced, rubbed his leg and took one last squint, before dragging his eyes up to Bianca’s face.

  ‘Did you see that?’ Shona whispered, before Martin squeezed in between us. ‘Bianca noticed him looking and she ever-so-casually pulled her top down a bit. Jesus wept, she’s got some black lace peeking out now. Could she be more obvious?’

  With Martin’s arrival our conversation moved to more interesting topics. Andy joined us, bored with Bianca’s chitchat about celebrities he’d never heard of. After half an hour of wrangling over world events, climate change and anything else that took our fancy, Shona went to order fish and chips all round.

  In the lull Eddie turned to me.

  ‘Hey, Rose. Bianca called you last night, why didn’t you pick up?’

  ‘The phone didn’t ring last night,’ I said, surprised. ‘You were home, why didn’t you pick up?’

  He frowned. ‘Have you forgotten? I played squash with Tony last night.’

  ‘I called.’ Bianca jumped in quick smart. ‘I thought, since you have caller ID, you didn’t want to talk to me.’