32
Mercury in Sagittarius
Sometimes unrealistic but grasps situations quickly.
As soon as Bree had finished telling her about Adam and the woman in the apartment, Nessa got up from the table and, without a word, walked into her room, closing the door firmly behind her. Bree stood up to follow but Cate stopped her.
“Leave her,” she said.
“But the state of mind she’s in,” protested Bree. “She needs someone with her.”
“What d’you think she’s going to do?” asked Cate.
Bree shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. Only—oh, Cate, I wish I hadn’t followed him. I wish I’d done what she said.”
“It wouldn’t have made things any better,” said Cate. “He’d still be cheating on her.”
“But she wouldn’t know!” cried Bree. “She’d be able to rationalize it all like she’s done before.”
“She’d have found out eventually,” Cate assured her. “It’s not your fault, Bree.”
“I know,” said Bree miserably. “But I feel as though it is.”
It was five minutes later before Cate remembered that Nessa had been cooking dinner and she rushed into the kitchen to turn off the grill. The peppered steaks were charred. Why do I always end up in the kitchen when there’s a food disaster happening? she asked herself. She slid the blackened meat onto a plate and looked at it doubtfully. It only reinforces everyone’s opinion of me as a hopeless homemaker.
“I’d eat it.” Bree poked her head around the doorway. “But it’s probably not very tasty.”
“Even your cast-iron stomach might have trouble with boot-leather steaks,” agreed Cate. “I think I’ll pop some of the microwave popcorn instead.”
“Good idea,” said Bree. “And we could have the tortilla chips. We bought salsa dips to go with them, didn’t we?”
Cate nodded and indicated the steaks. “What’ll I do with these?”
“Put them in the fridge,” said Bree. “God knows, Nessa might be able to turn them into something edible although I can’t imagine what.” She opened the fridge door and took out a bottle of beer. “Want one?”
“I wish.” Cate sighed. “But whatever about having a glass of wine in my current condition, mixing wine and beer would be a nightmare.”
“Poor old Catey.” Bree put her arm around her sister and hugged her. “Never mind, when the infant is finally born you can go on a binge.”
“By that stage a bottle of beer probably will be a binge,” said Cate gloomily. She put the popcorn into the microwave and switched it on. After a couple of seconds the kernels began to pop gently and she took a couple of brightly colored ceramic bowls out of the cupboard. She emptied the large bag of tortilla chips into one of them and brought it outside. By the time she returned the popcorn was ready and Bree was emptying it into the other bowl.
“Maybe I should go in and see her now,” suggested Bree.
Cate shook her head. “Give her a little more time.”
“Would it’ve been better if I’d told her sooner?” asked Bree. “Some people would have done, Cate. Some sisters wouldn’t have been able to keep things like that secret.”
“We’re not the kind of family who blurts everything out to each other.” Cate shrugged. “We’re different. We do our own thing.”
“I know.” Bree sighed. “These last few months we’ve got caught up in each other’s lives and it’s kind of strange.”
“Is that why you’re thinking of heading off to the States again?” Cate took a bottle of mineral water out of the fridge and followed Bree back out to the verandah.
“Not really.” Bree sat down, propped her feet on Nessa’s empty chair and idly scratched at a mosquito bite on her calf. “I’m not good at staying in one place.”
“Why?” asked Cate.
Bree shrugged.
“Not that it matters,” Cate added. “Lots of people like traveling. I just wonder do any of them settle down eventually.”
“It’s the settling bit that I don’t like,” said Bree. “Settling sounds so—so middle-aged!”
“Sometimes it’s nice,” said Cate. “To feel that you have a place of your own that’ll always be a place of your own.”
Bree nodded slowly. “I can see that. I’ve even felt it occasionally. But the feeling usually passes.” She picked up a handful of popcorn. “Did you feel like that about your place in Clontarf?”
“Finn’s place in Clontarf,” Cate amended. “Yes. I did. It was a comforting place to be.”
“And now you have to start all over again,” said Bree.
“If we’d split up and there wasn’t a baby…” Cate sighed. “I could’ve done things differently then. Maybe I could’ve gone to the States too. But this changes everything, Bree. I have to settle now.”
“Why did you change your mind about the baby?” asked Bree. “You were so determined that you didn’t want it.”
Cate broke a tortilla chip in half. “I don’t know,” she said. “I was determined. Of course I didn’t want the baby, Bree, and I was sure I was doing the right thing.” She gazed out over the garden. “But when I was sitting in the airport waiting to go I suddenly felt that this was my chance to have a child. It had happened! And it seemed like the wrong choice to get rid of it even though I knew it would be a disaster. Not as much of a disaster as it turned out, of course,” she added savagely as she dunked one of the halves into the salsa dip.
“No,” said Bree sympathetically. “But it must have been so difficult for you.”
“You know, what’s difficult is that I believe in the woman’s right to choose,” said Cate. “And then when it came down to it I went all soppy and couldn’t go through with it.”
“Oh, Cate!” Bree made a face at her. “You believe in a woman’s right to choose and you made a choice. A different choice to the one you thought you were going to make, but still your choice.”
Cate smiled wryly. “I guess so. It’s just—well, I feel for all those girls who made the other choice. Because it’s hard, you know. Your whole body is a mess and your mind is a mess and everybody judges you.”
“I think you did the right thing,” said Bree. “No matter what you did I’d still think you did the right thing.”
“Thanks,” said Cate. “But I’ve ended up without Finn.”
“Oh, sod Finn!” cried Bree. “If he doesn’t understand then he’s not worth it.”
“I wish I could think like that.” Cate sighed. “I haven’t managed to get around to it yet.”
“You will,” said Bree robustly. “You and Nessa both. You’ll realize that no man is worth agonizing over.”
“End of the day, maybe you did learn from Nessa and me,” Cate told her. “At least you’ve kept your heart intact even though you and Michael broke up too.”
Bree said nothing. She drained her San Miguel and went into the kitchen for another. She stood in the narrow hallway and listened for sounds from Nessa’s bedroom but she couldn’t hear anything.
“Did mentioning Michael annoy you?” asked Cate when Bree returned. “Only you got out of that chair like a scalded cat when I said his name.”
Bree shook her head. “Of course it didn’t annoy me. I liked Michael a lot but if it wasn’t going to work, well, better sooner than later.”
“Maybe you’ll fuck it up too, one day,” said Cate. “You’ll meet someone different and he’ll tug at your heartstrings and no matter how sensible you want to be about him you’ll end up doing something stupid like moving in with him instead of marrying him.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Bree mildly. “Marrying Adam didn’t do Nessa much good.”
“Marrying anyone doesn’t do any woman much good.” Cate poured herself more fizzy water.
“We’re getting very cynical,” said Bree. “Maybe there are men worth marrying out there.”
“I was going to marry Finn.” A tear slid down Cate’s cheek. “I loved Finn. I still love Finn.”
; “Oh, Cate.” Bree bit her lip.
She watched as her sister covered her eyes with her hands and allowed the tears to trickle through her fingers. She wanted to say something but there was nothing she could say. She wanted to do something but there was nothing she could do. Why, she asked, why are men so bloody difficult? Why do they make us cry even when they don’t know they’re doing it? Why does it matter so much?
She thought of Michael, half terrified that she’d cry too now. But she didn’t. He was a nice guy, a gorgeous guy, but somehow she thought she’d rather been in love with the idea of being in love with Michael rather than the man himself. She’d wanted to love someone as attractive as him. She always wanted to love the attractive ones. She didn’t miss him as much as she’d expected. How could she when most of her relationship with him had been a dream relationship—dreaming about going out with him, kissing him, making love to him…but never actually getting around to it.
She missed Declan more.
She shivered as she thought of Declan again. She didn’t miss him. She missed the muffins, that was all.
The sound of a door slamming shut brought her back to the present. Then she heard a car engine start. She frowned, then got up and walked along the verandah just as the green car shot by.
“Jesus!” she jumped back in fright.
“What’s going on?” cried Cate.
“It’s Nessa.” Bree peered through the dusk after the car. “For a second I thought someone might be robbing the car but I’m sure Nessa’s driving.”
“What the hell is she doing?” demanded Cate. “Where’s she off to?”
“I don’t know, do I?” snapped Bree. “Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe I’m imagining it. Let me check.” She hurried into the villa and knocked on the door to Nessa’s room. There was no answer so she pushed it open and looked inside. Everything appeared the same to her but it was hard to be sure because Nessa was so neat and tidy that there was never anything lying around her room anyway. She opened the wardrobe door and frowned. Nessa’s sundresses and jeans were still on their hangers, her blue and white fleece was on the shelf and her shoes were arranged neatly on the wardrobe floor.
“Well?” Cate stood in the open doorway.
“Her stuff is still here,” said Bree. “So she can’t have gone far.” She opened the drawer to the beside locker. A blue toilet bag was on the shelf. Then she looked under the bed. Nessa’s green suitcase was still underneath it.
“If she’s left everything then she’ll be back,” said Cate. “She probably just wanted to be on her own for a while, Bree.”
“She should have said something,” said Bree furiously. “You don’t just walk out on people.”
“She’s upset.”
“I know she’s bloody upset.” Bree’s tone was scathing. “All the more reason for her not to act like an idiot.”
“Maybe she’s gone to the beach,” said Cate. “You know, for an evening stroll or something. While she gets her head together.”
“She still should have said something,” muttered Bree. “Besides, she’s had a few drinks. She shouldn’t be driving.”
“She’s had a bottle of San Miguel, that’s all,” Cate told her. “She’ll be fine.”
“If she’s gone off in a temper…” Bree looked anxiously at Cate. “Well, you know how it is, Cate. She could be careless, do something stupid.”
“Like what?” asked Cate.
“Crash the car,” said Bree. “She might forget what side of the road she should be driving on or go the wrong way around a roundabout.”
“Bree, she’s a sensible woman.” Cate steered her sister out of Nessa’s room and back onto the verandah. “She just needs some time to herself. That’s fine. She’s had a shock.”
“I know,” said Bree. “I know I’m overreacting. It’s just that I was the one who followed Adam again when she told me not to. I feel responsible.”
Cate shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Bree. She had to find out sooner or later. And she’s the one who’s responsible for her own actions, not you.”
“Well it isn’t very responsible to go haring off without saying anything,” said Bree stubbornly.
Cate sat down at the patio table. “There’s nothing we can do until she comes home,” she told Bree. “You can argue with her later. Come on, have a beer yourself.”
“Oh, OK.” Bree sighed as she took a bottle from Cate. “But I don’t like it when people act out of character. And it’s not like Nessa to run off by herself.”
“We’ve just told her that her husband is shagging at least two women,” said Cate. “I think she has a good enough excuse.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Bree picked at the label on the bottle. “But I don’t like it all the same.”
33
Pluto in Cancer
Usually emotionally strong and intuitive.
The N332 was busy. Nessa blinked as the headlights of the oncoming cars dazzled her and she rubbed at her cheeks to wipe away the falling tears.
How could he do this to me? she whispered. Why did he do this to me? Her foot pressed down on the accelerator as she thought of Adam. Betraying me with two women. Or more. Just because Bree had only found out about two didn’t mean that there weren’t others. Hundreds of them! Thousands of them! Maybe he was like rock stars who slept with a different woman every night. Perhaps that was how Adam got his kicks. She didn’t know. How would she? She didn’t know him at all.
She flicked the indicator and overtook a Seat Toledo which was hogging the road in front. The driver banged the horn furiously. Nessa didn’t care. She overtook another car and then another. The road snaked along the coast, through the salt marshes and past the little seaside towns until it widened again and she saw signs for the airport.
She could go home, she thought. She could get a flight now and go home. She could be back in Malahide in a few hours and she could put her key in the door and confront him. She swallowed. Confront him with another woman, perhaps. For all she knew he could have his other women in the house now, while she was away. Maybe he’d sneak them in while Jill was asleep in bed and sneak them out again before she knew about them. Or maybe he hadn’t come home at all tonight. Maybe he was spending the night with xxx Annika or with the new Monkstown lady. Or with any of them.
Fucking whores, she thought, as she sped through the tunnel which led to the motorway. Didn’t they know that he was a happily married man with a lovely, precious daughter? Didn’t they care? Those women were helping to ruin their lives and it meant nothing to them. But why should it? She wiped away the tears again. Why should they know anything or care about anything? What did he tell them, after all?
She missed the turn for the airport. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to go home unexpectedly. She probably wouldn’t have got a flight anyway. She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to see him. Not now. Not ever. She didn’t want to look at him and know that he clearly found her undesirable. Or lacking.
What had she done wrong? What had made him look for other women? What had changed it all? He’d loved her when he married her. She knew that. He’d broken up with his other girlfriend because of her and he’d told her that it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. Because he loved her and wanted to be with her forever.
Lying bastard! She accelerated again and overtook a tour bus, two motorcyclists and a Mercedes. Lying fucking cheating bastard! She rubbed at her cheeks, this time with the sleeve of her top. They were sore from the salt of her tears. So, she thought, when people talked about feeling hurt they actually meant it. She was hurting inside like she’d never hurt before and now she was hurting outside too. And he’d done it, he’d hurt her like this. The man that she loved, the man she’d do anything for, the man she’d built her life around.
She’s staying with him for the money and the house. Portia’s words, coming back to her once again, made her hands jerk on the steering wheel. The Focus veered to the left and the driver of the Mer
cedes—which had been pursuing her ever since she’d overtaken him and who was trying to get past her again—flashed his headlights angrily at her. “Oh fuck off,” she yelled through the open window. You’re probably a fucking man. So fuck right off, lying, cheating, bastard!
She finally allowed the Mercedes to pass her out and then flashed her headlights equally angrily at him. Did Portia know her better than she knew herself? “No,” she said out loud. She didn’t. She’d wondered about it before and she’d already decided that Portia was wrong. She wasn’t with Adam for the house. She wasn’t with Adam for the money. She was with Adam because she loved him. And because she thought he loved her.
But if he didn’t…She gulped. If he didn’t love her, if instead he loved his triple x lady and his other lady, well then why was she with him? For the money and the house after all? For the so-called lifestyle? Was that really it? She swallowed the lump in her throat. He didn’t love those other women. He couldn’t possibly love them. He loved her and he loved Jill and that was the way it was. Anything else—anything else was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. She couldn’t have spent her whole life living a lie.
She glanced at a road sign and saw that she was now on the motorway which ultimately led to Valencia. It was miles away. I could drive to there, she thought. I could drive all night and stay there and never come home. I could be like Shirley Valentine and get a job in a seafront café and find romance with a local man who’d care for me and say nice things about me. And find someone else too, she thought, as she remembered the movie. A seafront café wasn’t the answer. There was no damn answer.
A string of lights across the motorway made her slam on the brakes suddenly, her heart pounding. She’d come to a tollbooth. She took the ticket that told her where she’d joined the motorway and glanced at it. The various exits were marked on it but she didn’t care about the exits. She didn’t care about anything.
She pressed down on the accelerator again and the car leaped forward. Unlike in Ireland, this motorway wasn’t jammed with almost bumper-to-bumper traffic. It was wide and empty and a joy to drive on. She found herself slipping into a trance as the miles slid past. She wasn’t thinking anymore. She wasn’t feeling anymore. She was simply existing, inside the car, outside herself.
He's Got to Go Page 38
