Promises Made- Promises Kept

by Jaclyn Rosamond

  He gave me a pointed look. ‘Sorry, Rose,’ he said tonelessly. ‘There, will that do?’ He got out. He didn’t slam the door, but shut the car door with enough force to bring stinging tears to my eyes. I blinked them away.

  I had no idea what was going on with Eddie, but misery followed whenever he bothered to show his face. Even when he didn’t show his face.

  I needed somewhere quiet to think about why I stayed with my husband, the stranger.

  Dejected, I walked behind Eddie, up the narrow garden path, noting efforts had been made to make the minuscule garden as vibrant and interesting as possible. Lisa may not enjoy cooking, but she’s a gifted gardener. Inside their tiny two-up-two-down starter home we were cheerful enough by unspoken agreement.

  The gang were all there, except for Bianca, and we were exchanging our usual catch up banter when the doorbell rang. The bell sounded like a gong, a gift Tony and Lisa had bought for their first anniversary.

  It sounded like a death knell to me.

  Bianca bounced into the room, staging her entrance for maximum effect. Tonight, she wore a well-cut pair of expensive jeans and tight wraparound feminine cardigan. I used to wear clothes like that. I frowned down at my hands, trying to gather my equilibrium. Without understanding why, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  ‘Hey, take a look at this everybody.’ Bianca held up her right hand. ‘See? My boyfriend gave me this ring as a pressie. What do you think?’ She took off the ring and handed it to Lisa.

  ‘It’s gorgeous. Look how it sparkles. Can I try it on?’

  ‘Course you can, I don’t mind people trying it on, I’m not precious about it.’

  This last comment was aimed at me, of course.

  Of course, the men weren’t particularly interested in the ring, although Tony gave it a long, hard look, frowning slightly before handing it to Brigid. All the women handed it around, as women tend to do. I admired the ring, but didn’t try it on, knowing I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. This way I didn't play her game.

  ‘Very nice.’ I examined it before handing it back to Bianca with a neutral smile.

  Actually, I was taken aback. The ring was pretty enough to be a very nice engagement ring, with three reasonable sized diamonds set in nine carat gold, but Bianca’s boyfriend hadn’t proposed. She’d have been wild with glee, bouncing off the walls. And still we hadn’t met him.

  From basic lessons of cut and color taught by my Uncle Bill, when he made my engagement ring, I would guess this ring set her boyfriend back close to two thousand pounds. At a minimum. Shona shot me a quizzical look, semaphoring with her eyebrows.

  With a slight shake of my head, I lifted one eyebrow, equally mystified. Where the hell was her boyfriend? Why on earth was she spending time with us instead of him? Wasn’t anyone else even a teeny bit curious?

  My eyes scanned our friends. Lisa knew something. She had that annoying look women have when they’re in on a secret – smug and sly at the same time. My curiosity deepened. The only other person to look vaguely out of the ordinary was Tony. But instead of looking smug, he looked uncomfortable. Now what was that about?

  He was frowning, casting an occasional unreadable glance at his wife. I couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps Lisa was in on some sort of secret, but not him. Maybe she knew the mysterious boyfriend and was gloating.

  I put the thought aside. I literally had no idea what games were in play. Shona and I exchanged a jaded look. This undercurrent of cheap secrecy was all too familiar from way back. She gave me a lopsided grin, a silent promise to dissect tonight’s mystery as soon as possible. Brigid watched us, eyes bright with mischief, I didn’t dare catch her eye again, I’d fall about laughing. I couldn’t wait for her pithy observations.

  The evening was otherwise uneventful. Lisa’s cooking had stretched to spaghetti Bolognese. Homemade, too. It was a lovely meal and we all complimented her. Pink with pleasure, she revealed her secret weapon – Jamie Oliver’s TV cooking lessons on reruns. Assessing her gratification, I realized she wasn’t used to accolades. With regret, I wished I’d made more of an effort with her since we’d met.

  Perhaps she was chummy with Bianca because the rest of us hadn’t bothered to be her friends.

  That night I lay awake in bed long after Eddie had dropped off. Neither of us had made the first move to fix our earlier bickering. I couldn’t be bothered. It didn’t seem to matter what I did, it almost invariably irritated him. Not for the first time I gave serious thought about whether our marriage was worth saving.

  My mind still shied away, but the seed was sown. I still loved Eddie, God knows why, but his lack of interest in me, our marriage and spending any time with me was not only crushing me, but wearing away what remained of my love for him.

  When I eventually dropped asleep, I dreamt wild and vivid dreams of Eddie leaving me. No matter how I called out to his retreating figure, he didn’t turn around. Ahead of him a woman held out her hand, and beyond her another woman, and another. All of them faceless. My damp pillow woke me, my face cold and wet. Eddie slept on next to me. My dream must have been soundless. I wondered what he’d say if I told him my dream. Had the dream any basis in reality? I had no idea.

  The way things were, I was too scared to ask.

  Chapter Ten

  November, came and went. Nothing changed in our laughable marriage. He maintained his single life. I left the surgery and returned to midwifery. The weather cooled, and, after tidying the garden in preparation for the winter months I spent my spare time at home alone, or seeing Brigid every week for a chatfest. Shona joined us as often as she could.

  ‘Nothing’s changed with you and Eddie, then?’ asked Brigid one night, curled up in large armchairs in her cozy flat, sipping coffee.

  I shook my head, almost uncaring. ‘Every few days I think about leaving him. We’re basically strangers sharing a bed in which nothing happens. Like maybe once every three weeks. If I’m lucky.’ I wasn’t being totally honest. More like once in a blue moon. ‘He’s fallen out of love with me, he must have, why else would he treat me like shit? But when I asked him in a carefully roundabout way if he wanted a divorce, he nearly jumped down my throat, denying it. We actually made love after that and he came home early a couple of times to be with me.’

  ‘But it didn’t last, did it?’

  I shook my head again with a bitter laugh. ‘No. Maybe I should ask him for a divorce again. He might want sex and come home early.’

  She frowned. ‘Honey, this isn’t funny. Listen to yourself. This isn’t you. This isn’t even a mediocre marriage. You two were in each other’s pockets before the wedding and now you’re not. You know I’m always blunt, so you know I’m being absolutely honest when I ask if you absolutely sure he’s not having an affair?’

  Mechanically sipping coffee, I considered her question. ‘I suppose I can’t be sure, can I? But short of following him around like a private gumshoe, how would I know?’

  ‘Would it set your mind at rest if you did follow him? Or you paid someone to do it?’

  I sat up hurriedly, slopping coffee on my jeans. ‘Oh, crap!’

  Brigid leapt to her feet and brought a damp cloth from the kitchen. ‘Sorry, I shocked you, didn’t I?’

  Rueful, mopping my jeans, I nodded. ‘You sure did. God, I don’t think I need to pay someone. Seriously. That’s horrible.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t trust people the way you do, so it didn’t seem like a bad idea to me.’

  But her suggestion prompted me to action.

  Feeling furtive, I stalked Eddie to the gym on Thursday evening. Dressed down in a dark hoodie, jeans and sneakers, glad of autumn dusk hiding me, I watched him from the concealment of a shop doorway. He entered the glass doors and come out an hour and a half later. He used the equipment upstairs. I knew this because the weight machines are visible to anyone through the huge plate glass windows. He slogged away, disappearing briefly for something out of sight befor
e plugging away again. When he disappeared again, I waited, feeling very strange to be tailing him.

  Still hidden, I saw his car drive up the ramp from the underground car park fifteen minutes later. After he’d driven away I returned to my car and drove to the racquet club. Sure enough, after a couple of hours he came out with Tony, both laughing at some joke.

  I managed to get home five minutes after Eddie with a ready excuse, should he ask where I’d been. He didn’t ask.

  Well, that answered one thing. He’d been where he said he’d be. And I felt terrible. I’d stalked my husband. I was the one with the guilty conscience, not Eddie. I resolved not to do that again and never to tell Brigid what I’d done.

  More cheerful, I joined the gang on Friday for pub grub and our usual bickerfest, only to be disappointed. Brigid stayed home with a cold.

  We sat in comfortable chairs, hogging the roaring log fire.

  Seated next to me, Lisa asked, ‘Are you happy back at your old job?’

  Surprised at her sudden interest, I nodded. ‘I really am. I can’t imagine ever working in an office job again.’

  ‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Not my fave way of living, either. How come you have weekends off most of the time? I mean, it’s not as if babies are only born on weekdays, is it?’

  ‘No, you’re right,’ I said, laughing. ‘They come when they’re ready, except for the elective caesareans. I work about one weekend in twelve, because we have permanent night staff and permanent weekend staff. I’m only rostered on when someone’s taking annual leave and they need one of the weekday staff to fill in.’

  ‘I’d hate to work on weekends.’ Lisa said. ‘It’s bad enough working five days a week, but I’d hate my weekends stuffed up, too.’

  Surprised, I gave her a questioning look. ‘I thought you liked your job.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Lisa said. ‘But I’d be a lot happier if I had pots of money and could spend my life travelling instead.’

  We all laughed, agreeing we’d sooner have holidays than work. Part of me didn’t agree, though. There were aspects of my job I could happily live without, like paperwork, and clearing up after a particularly messy birth, but, on the whole, I felt a sense of achievement at work. After all, how many people are lucky enough to experience the joy of helping a new life into the world?

  ‘Do you have this weekend off, then?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Yes, thank goodness, cos I have Christmas shopping to do. I’m a bit behind, how about you?’

  ‘No, I’m pretty much set. Maybe a couple of little things, but they won’t take long.’ She gave me an indecipherable look. ‘Where do you shop?’

  I thought of my planned day and smiled. ‘My usual favorite place. I catch the train to London. My first stop is Piccadilly, where I browse in Fortnum and Mason’s, looking at all the expensive luxuries I’ll never need. Then I get serious and go bargain-hunting in all the shops I can afford. I’ll do a bit of pamper shopping, too. I need new boots, these are well past their use-by date.’ I stretched out my legs showing worn and scuffed knee-highs.

  ‘Do you mind if I come with you? I haven’t been up to London in ages.’ She saw my immediate reluctance. ‘I won’t hold you up.’

  Taken aback, I felt ambushed. I hated shopping with anyone, except Shona. All the pleasure of a day on my own in London dissipated and I felt anxiety lodge in my gut.

  ‘I suppose that’s okay.’ I tried injecting enthusiasm, but sounded no more than lukewarm. Lisa didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t care.

  She clapped her hands. ‘That’s great. What time do you set out?’

  ‘I catch an early train at about seven thirty.’

  Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Wow, early bird. Are any shops open when you get there?’

  I’d hoped my early start would deter her.

  ‘I shouldn’t think so, but I have coffee in a nice little cafe before I start.’

  ‘Okay, cool. Let’s do that. Plus some brekkie. Sounds good to me.’

  Breakfast wasn’t part of my plan, I ate before leaving home. I sighed, sensing my day slipping away.

  By the time our social gathering ended, the evening had been a bust. With no table to anchor us, we’d been subject to the myriad ways Bianca drew attention to herself, wearing a scarlet low-necked top, leaning over to flaunt her cleavage, bending to pick up a casually dropped item, showcasing her tushy in tight jeans, frequent hair-flicking, her breathy laugh at the men’s jokes. Playing a vamp to attract attention. We saw how the men’s eyes drifted to her cleavage, legs or butt, when repeatedly offered up for perusal. She was sexy and she knew it.

  She never questioned the point of all her attention-grabbing behavior? Or why she chose to be viewed as a sex object instead of a person. Her actions degraded her and, for that matter, other women, by displaying body parts as the only value of being a woman. Her breasts, butt and legs, flirty eyes became the focus, distracting from adult conversation.

  Bianca manipulated the conversation, reducing it to meaningless drivel about trivial topics of interest to only Lisa and herself.

  Bored with trivia, I sat back and studied everyone surreptitiously. Bianca had divided our group into two different camps. Tony and Lisa sat firmly in Bianca’s camp, happy to be taken hostage. Eddie, too. Almost furtive, I watched him. Was he favoring her? After a few minutes I discerned nothing out of the ordinary. He was friendly towards her, but no more than he was to Lisa.

  My intuition was askew. Nothing was going on. How did I feel? Relieved? Yes! Our marriage might be crapola, he might be seeing someone, who knew? But if it had been Bianca… I’d be devastated. A wreck. Annihilated.

  Anyone at all, and I’d be broken, but Bianca….

  And still, she hadn’t produced her boyfriend.

  I resumed watching the group. Fiona, our newest friend, hadn’t yet been enticed into a camp. She was interested in everyone, while sitting on the fence. She had a colorless personality, which might be why Bianca was all over her, encouraging her, including her, wooing her.

  This was how Bianca had behaved at school. I hadn’t expected her to see her succeeding with adults.

  I tuned back in to avoid my thoughts. The conversation was boring, trite, dull. Shona caught my glance, eyes widening in boredom.

  Abruptly, she stood up. ‘Bathroom stop,’ she announced, flicking me a look.

  I wriggled out of my seat and followed.

  In the ladies Shona reapplied lipstick in the mirror. I checked the cubicles. We were alone.

  ‘God, can you believe this?’ She rolled her eyes at my reflection.

  ‘I know.’ I exhaled, exasperated. ‘It’s one of our rules. We don’t talk about tabloid fodder. I haven’t even heard of some of the people Bianca’s talking about.’

  ‘Does that make us terminally uncool, do you think?’ Shona paused, her tube of lipstick in mid-air.

  ‘No,’ I scoffed. ‘It means our lives are more interesting to us than some random celebrities we’ll never meet, who have all sorts of lies printed about them in order to make their already well-paid existence somehow more tragic, more joyful, or more heartbreaking than we mere nonentities could possibly experience for ourselves.’

  ‘Wow, it really riles you up, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ I bit out. ‘Tabloid journalism makes money from people who are gullible enough to buy the trashy mags, only to find the sensationalist headlines are nothing but speculation and rumor and a week later are found to be a bunch of lies.’

  ‘Okay, honey.’ She laughed, turning to face me. ‘What’s really biting you?’

  I inhaled. ‘Bianca, of course. Her craving attention on her body parts detracts from intelligent conversation. And, we’ve been divided into friends and enemies. Again. Do you suppose she’ll ever act like a normal human being? I mean, she wants men, any man, to see her as an object of lust, to imagine having sex with her. But life is so much more than just that.’

  I couldn’t reveal
, even to my best friend, how desperately unattractive, and unsexy, I now felt about myself. Bianca’s exaggerated exhibitionism repulsed me, yet served to highlight my shortcomings as an appealing woman.

  ‘Martin thinks she’s a toxic slut. He can’t stand her.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  Her head swung around, eyes interrogative.

  ‘I mean, not that he’s attracted,’ I added quickly. ‘But that he’s a man and her lascivious strutting is designed to make men see her sexual availability in bright neon flashing colors.’

  ‘Yeah, like a whore flogging her body. Any decent guy will find her disgusting. Martin really does think she’s vile.’

  ‘But not my husband.’ Frustrated, I flung my back against a wall. ‘I wish she’d never discovered where we all hang out. Why the hell did I feel obliged to agree she could be a bridesmaid? We were a gang of friends until she sashayed in offering sexual favors. Why doesn’t she find a singles bar to whip out her tits?’

  Shona sniggered. ‘You know, I’ve sometimes wondered how many men she’s bonked over the years. Any man who sleeps with her now would surely feel it’s a bit crowded down there.’ She made a vulgar gesture.

  I barked out a reluctant laugh. ‘Not half. Where’s this mythical boyfriend, do you think?’

  ‘You got me.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m more than ever convinced she’s found some aging, very married, sugar daddy. He’s bought her an expensive ring, probably helped with her car, maybe even paid for her driving lessons. Who knows? Let’s not forget her makeover, too. Someone paid good money to take her from street corner slapper to sex kitten. I bet she wouldn’t have thought of it herself.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Course I do. That lovely watch she wears, the one you had your eye on until she started wearing it, probably cost a grand, or at least half a grand. It was a gift from a lover, someone who’s happy to spend a lot of money. I bet they’re “love tokens” to keep her quiet about him.’