Foreign Affairs

by Patricia Scanlan

  Sometimes, particularly before her period, when she got horny, she thought about what she was missing by not having a sex life. But even though she’d never gone the full way with Harry, she’d always felt that he’d been in control of her. Rachel, because of her upbringing, just couldn’t imagine that there was such a thing as sexual equality. Sex was just another method of domination and she was determined never to put herself in a position where any man could ever dominate or dictate to her again. She was going to live in a safe little world where she was in charge of her own life and destiny. Rachel fell asleep in an unusually contented frame of mind.

  Two months later, just before the summer holidays, Noreen, her colleague, got the keys of her new house. ‘When would you like to move in?’ she asked Rachel. Rachel didn’t hesitate. She knew it was now or never. If she didn’t leave home now she never would.

  ‘As soon as I can,’ she said calmly.

  ‘The weekend,’ suggested Noreen.

  ‘Fine,’ agreed Rachel. She went home that evening and began to pack all her worldly possessions into black plastic sacks. She did it in the privacy of her room. William never entered her bedroom. The only things she wanted to take with her were the quilt her grandmother had made for her years ago, and her mother’s rocking-chair. She went into Bray the following afternoon and bought sheets, pillows and a duvet and brought them to Noreen’s new house.

  It was a modern three-bedroom semi on a new estate. Noreen told her she could have the back bedroom, which was double the size of her small room at home. It had fitted wardrobes as well. Noreen said she could arrange it whatever way she liked. It was her room to do what she would with. Rachel was delighted with it. It had a lovely view of the Sugar Loaf in the distance and the back garden faced south and was a sun trap. Rachel felt a quiver of excitement as she made up her new bed. It looked so fresh and welcoming. She was sorry she wasn’t staying the night. The green floral duvet cover went nicely with the green and cream fleck wallpaper. She’d buy some pretty lampshades and cushions to decorate her room. Once she had the rocking-chair in place by the window and her books on the shelves, the place would look homely and nice.

  She could hardly concentrate at work the next few days. The morning before the move, she put her black sacks in the car while her father was shaving. She would bring them to the house that afternoon after school. Then the next morning she would put her mother’s rocking-chair in the back of the car. It would fit in the hatchback. She would never set foot in Rathbarry again, except to visit her mother’s grave.

  When she got home that evening, her father was cooking his tea. ‘You’re late,’ he remarked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said non-committally.

  ‘The board of management and the parish priest and teachers are planning a do for me the night of my last day at school. I presume you’ll be there. Ronan and Jennifer will also be invited as my guests,’ William said proudly. He would be in his element that night.

  You presume too much, she felt tempted to say. But she didn’t. Only one more night at home and she didn’t want the hassle of a row. No way was she going to sit and listen to laudatory speeches about her father from all the lick-arses in the parish. They didn’t know what he was like to live with. Let Ronan and Jennifer go if they wished, she wasn’t going. William was so certain she’d be there, he never noticed that she hadn’t answered him. He sat pontificating about how everyone kept telling him the school wouldn’t be the same without him. He’d been there for forty-five years. He was the cornerstone of the school. No-one could fill his footsteps, he informed his secretly scornful daughter.

  She went to bed early. It was strange to lie in bed and look around the little room that had always been her haven from her father and know that she’d never sleep in it again. She felt desperately lonely, suddenly, for her mother. She’d gone into her mother’s room for a last look around. It was just as it had been when she died. But it felt empty. Her mother’s spirit did not linger there now. The room was cold and unwelcoming. Just the musty smell of disuse. Rachel had not been tempted to stay.

  She didn’t sleep much, feeling coiled and tense. When dawn broke she was utterly relieved that her ordeal was almost over. While her father was shaving she packed her last bits and pieces and then made her way slowly and quietly down the stairs carrying Theresa’s rocking-chair. It was awkward. She half expected her father to make an appearance at the bathroom door to find out what the noise was, but he didn’t. He’d grown somewhat hard of hearing over the past couple of years. Rachel thanked God for it. It was a bit of a struggle getting the chair into the back of the car but after much pushing and shoving she managed it. She was sitting drinking her coffee when her father arrived downstairs for his breakfast.

  Rachel stood up. Her heart was thumping and she could feel a tremor in her left leg. She took her house key out of her bag and placed it on the kitchen table. ‘I won’t be needing this any more. I’m moving out. If there’s any post for me redirect it to St Catherine’s. I won’t be coming to your retirement do.’ She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t look at her father as she spoke. She walked from the kitchen through the hall and then through the front door. Rachel didn’t look back.

  William Stapleton stared at the key on the kitchen table. He was stunned. Was he having a dream or had Rachel just told him she was leaving home? He walked smartly to the hall window. His eyes widened with shock as he saw Rachel get into her car. Was he seeing things or was that Theresa’s rocking-chair on its side in the back seat? His heart started to palpitate. She was leaving him. He never thought she’d have the gumption. Let her leave, he raged. She’d come running back. Rachel hadn’t the backbone to manage on her own. She’d come running back. He had no doubt about it.

  ‘I did it. I did it,’ Rachel muttered as she drove past tenacres as if the devil himself was after her. Sanity returned and she slowed down to a safer speed. She’d done it. She’d taken the irreversible step. She felt scared and exhilarated but she was not sorry. She had not one ounce of affection for the man she’d left behind. She never wanted to see him again.

  Chapter Eighty

  The house was unnaturally quiet. Brenda cleaned up the breakfast dishes and didn’t know whether she felt happy or sad. She kept expecting Lauren to come rushing in to tell her something, or John to come in from the garden with a daisy he’d picked for her. Even the garden looked forlorn, the swing unmoving, the sandpit empty.

  Bringing the twins for their first day at school was an ordeal. Lauren was raring to go. She wanted to wear a uniform and be exactly like her older sister. But John hung back shyly, his lower lip wobbling. And Brenda wanted to gather him up in her arms and bring him back home with her. He was only an infant. Four was awfully young to start school. But that was the age they started these days. Kathy’s pair had started at four and Kathy was now working part-time for an accountant who specialized in audits. She was as happy as Larry.

  She felt like a real person again, she’d confided to Brenda. Not someone’s wife. Not someone’s mother. Her own woman again. Brenda knew exactly how she felt and, to her surprise, she envied Kathy. If anyone had told her she’d want to get back into the workplace she’d have told them they were mad.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t love her children, she did. It was just that Brenda felt her life revolved totally around them. The grinding repetition of cooking, washing and keeping the house clean bored her beyond measure. There had to be more to life than this. Kathy’s return to work had brought this home to Brenda very strongly. Her friend’s conversation was peppered with mentions of the various jobs she’d been on and all the people she was meeting again. Kathy always looked very well but now there was an air of extra confidence about her, a pep in her step. Brenda felt positively boring beside her. It didn’t help, either, that Jenny and Paula were making huge strides in their careers. Brenda had visited Jenny’s recently, and Paula arrived wearing a fabulous taupe suit, carrying a briefcase. She looked like that gorgeous blonde in Kno
t’s Landing. Brenda felt like the greatest frump ever. It was very depressing.

  She began to daydream about turning into a career woman who wore gorgeous tailored suits and swanned around with a briefcase. She even suggested to Shay that she should come and work in the office for a couple of hours in the mornings once the twins were settled in school.

  ‘You could always have your secretary come in part-time, in the afternoons,’ she said airily.

  ‘No way, Brenda,’ Shay was uncharacteristically firm. ‘Roisin’s a good secretary and besides she needs the money. She’s trying to rear three children on her own. You know she’s a widow.’

  ‘It would save us money, and I’d be a good secretary too,’ she said huffily.

  ‘No, Brenda.’ Shay was adamant. She sulked for a week. But Brenda made up her mind. The children were going to school for two weeks before the summer holidays. By September, they’d be in school all morning. She was going to get some sort of a little job for herself.

  Brenda stood in the garden, staring around. It was a beautiful morning. It was only gone nine forty-five. The hours until twelve-thirty stretched ahead of her. It was so nice she decided she’d make the beds and then come out and cut the grass in the back. She’d put her shorts on, wear a T-shirt and make a start on her tan.

  By ten-thirty she was mowing the grass with vigour. She felt energized. Brenda hummed as she mowed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mandy go to her line with a basket of clothes. Brenda turned her back. There was a coolness between the Hanleys and the Donovans. A very frosty coolness at that. Brenda scowled as she remembered the incident that had caused it two months ago. She’d asked Mandy to mind the kids for an afternoon so that she could go to a coffee afternoon Kathy’d organized to raise funds to send a child to hospital in America for a life-saving operation. One of the prizes was a holiday in Spain, donated by Jenny’s boss. Brenda was hoping like mad that she might win it. She didn’t, but she had a great time chatting to all and sundry and catching up on gossip. Kathy’d invited her to stay for tea. Brenda decided she might as well, it wasn’t often she got away by herself without the children.

  She’d stayed until six and then sped home to collect the children. Just as she pulled up, she saw Tom, Mandy’s husband, walking in through the front door. He didn’t close it so she walked in behind him a minute or so later to hear him exclaim in immense irritation, ‘God Almighty, has she left that shower in on top of us again? I can’t afford to be feeding them every second day of the week. Does she think I go up to Superquinn to buy groceries for her gang as well as ours? Does she think I’m a bloody millionaire? Shay earns a hell of a lot more money than I do. Why can’t he feed his own kids? It’s a bit bloody much, Mandy. All I want to do is come home from work and sit down in my own house and relax without her bloody gang underfoot.’

  Brenda cringed. She knew she’d taken advantage once too often. She knew that it annoyed Tom that she left the kids in with Mandy so often. He was sullen and cool with her, and she pretended not to notice and chattered on gaily. Tom didn’t like her, but Brenda ignored it because she needed to be able to depend on Mandy to take care of the children now and again.

  She was tempted to slip back out and pretend she hadn’t heard Tom’s outburst but Mandy gave a little gasp of dismay when she saw her standing there. ‘Be quiet, Tom,’ she said hastily. ‘Hi, Brenda. Don’t mind Tom, his ulcer’s at him.’

  Tom turned around and glared at her. ‘My ulcer’s not at me, Mandy,’ he raged. ‘Brenda, if I’d wanted six children I’d have had them. I don’t mind doing a neighbour a favour now and again, but I’m fed up to the back teeth rearing and feeding your kids. I want to be able to come in from work and sit down with my own family. I have nothing against your children. But I don’t like my wife’s good nature being taken advantage of. And in case you don’t realize it, it costs money to feed children. When we do our weekly shopping we do it to last us for the week, not for the benefit of your family. It would match you better if you’d cook a decent meal for your kids now and again instead of feeding them burgers and chips from the chipper, because you’re too busy gadding around the countryside to look after them.’

  Brenda nearly died of mortification. She wanted to turn around and say how dare you talk to me like that? But Tom had a sharp tongue. And she knew in her heart and soul that there was a lot of truth in what he said.

  ‘You won’t be troubled with them again,’ she said stiffly. ‘I apologize for any inconvenience caused.’

  ‘He doesn’t mean it.’ Mandy was scarlet with embarrassment.

  ‘Yes I do, Mandy. I’m fed up with this carry-on. I’m fed up listening to you moaning about it and not saying anything about it. It had to be said and I’m saying it!’

  With as much dignity as she could muster, Brenda called to her children, who were playing in the front room, and walked out the door. She was furious, she was embarrassed, and she was raging with herself for not being ten minutes earlier. She’d never be able to ask Mandy to look after the kids again after this.

  From then on Tom ignored her when they met. He was an ignoramus anyway, she decided. Mandy barely said hello and wouldn’t look Brenda in the eye. It was a nuisance when she wanted to go anywhere. She tried to leave the children with Kit but her mother told her in no uncertain terms that, much as she loved her grandchildren, she’d reared her own and she’d no intention of rearing Brenda’s. ‘I had to stay at home when you were young, much and all as I’d have liked to be off out enjoying myself. You’ll have to do the same.’ Her mother was stern about it. School couldn’t have come at a more opportune moment, Brenda decided as she started to clip the edges of the grass.

  Once she was happy that John had settled in well, Brenda thoroughly enjoyed her mornings of freedom. She went to town and treated herself to a few new outfits for the summer. Sometimes she and a neighbour went swimming or played a set of tennis in Johnstown Park. Once, after she’d driven the children to school, she drove straight out to Portmarnock beach and spent two blissful hours on the beach. When it was fine she took her lounger out into the back garden when she’d finished making the beds and tidying up, and relaxed in the sun. It was the nicest two weeks she’d spent in years. Exactly as she’d imagined it would be when she’d left work. When the school holidays arrived she was sorry.

  September would be wonderful, she promised herself. She’d get a part-time job two or three mornings a week and flop and enjoy her peace and quiet the rest of the days. Partial freedom was in sight. Things could only improve.

  It was one of the nicest summers she’d ever spent, too. The weather was kind. Most days she would pack a picnic and take the kids to Portmarnock or Donabate or the Hole in the Wall beach, where they played on the sand and she read her library books and turned a nice golden brown. It was great now that the children were older. They were much better able to amuse themselves and, apart from the usual squabbles, life was rather relaxing.

  She and Kathy started walking to try and lose weight. They walked around Johnstown Park three or four times every evening. To her delight, her thighs and bum began to tone up. She watched her eating and the pounds slowly dropped off For the first time in a long time Brenda began to feel in control again. It was a good feeling. She didn’t even over-indulge when she went on holidays in a rented mobile home in Bettystown with Shay and the children for two weeks. Brenda kept the vision of herself in a tailored suit, carrying a briefcase. It helped every time she felt tempted to eat a coffee slice.

  Losing a stone did wonders for her determination and confidence. At the end of August, she saw an advertisement in one of the evening papers for a part-time dentist’s receptionist in Drumcondra, required to work three mornings. Brenda applied for the job. Three mornings a week would suit her down to the ground.

  She was as nervous as a kitten as she sat waiting to be interviewed. She hadn’t told a soul she was going for the job in case she didn’t get it. It was bad enough being rejected without the world and
his mother knowing about it. There wouldn’t be much need for her to carry a briefcase, she supposed, nevertheless it would be a start and she could always move on to greater things.

  To her joy, Brenda got the job. Doctor Marshall, the dentist, was impressed that she had computer skills. He intended transferring all his patients’ data onto disc. His wife would do the afternoon shift and the remaining mornings, he informed Brenda. It suited her down to the ground. Doctor Marshall was young and enthusiastic and he’d just taken over an established practice. She’d be kept busy, he assured Brenda. She didn’t care. The busier the better as far as she was concerned.

  Shay was a bit doubtful when she told him she’d got a job, but his wife’s humour was so much improved he decided it was a good thing and took her out for a drink and a meal to celebrate.

  The first few mornings had been a bit hectic what with trying to get the children out to school and the house tidy before she left for work, but gradually Brenda got into her routine. She woke in the mornings looking forward to work. She liked wearing the crisp white coat. It made her feel like a nurse and the patients found it very reassuring, especially when she had to calm the nervous ones.

  She was enjoying the challenge of transferring the data onto the computer. Mrs Marshall had no computer skills, so Brenda felt important explaining the new system to her.

  It was the best thing she ever did, Brenda thought happily, when she got her first pay cheque. It was extremely satisfying working three mornings a week and earning her own money and having the other two mornings off. She felt much more content with her life. It no longer seemed aimless and filled with boring routine. She was keeping her weight off too and people commented on how well she looked. When she got her second pay cheque, she got her hair tinted auburn.

  Brenda got the surprise of her life on her wedding anniversary, when Shay announced that he’d booked a weekend away for them the weekend after St Patrick’s weekend. She was thrilled. He’d arranged for his younger sister to baby-sit. She was a student and always in need of money.