Ebb and Flow

by Mary O'Sullivan

  Andrew smiled at the irony of the location she had chosen. He shut down his computer. He would not be doing any further work today. By tacit agreement, they each took their own cars. There was after all, a strong possibility that they would be going in different directions by the time they had finished the spring clean of their lives.

  * * *

  Ella was first to arrive at the broken-down gate which was the most convenient entrance to the Ballyhaven site. She opened the boot of her car and hesitated for a moment before taking out a box and opening it up. Then she kicked off her high heels and put on the expensive red leather shoes Jason Laide had given her in the hospital, glad now that she had felt uncomfortable enough about the gift to hide it in her car. Not a good match for her pink jacket but then colour co-ordination was the least of her problems at the moment. She watched as Andrew approached, his face solemn. He was driving slowly. Not something that came naturally to him. Nothing about this situation was natural.

  He got out of his car and stood in front of her.

  “Will we walk?” he asked.

  Silently Ella headed for the gate and scaled it with ease. She was getting good at this. Andrew followed and they set off. They did not have to discuss the direction. Both knew they were headed for the glade. The place which had once been special to them.

  Ella glanced around her as she trudged along. It seemed to her that nature was setting a very apt backdrop to the death of her marriage. Underfoot, the ground was sodden, needing to be ploughed through rather than walked on. The red leather shoes were by now frilled by layers of squelchy mud. The sky was grey, low, promising rain and darkness. Ahead the trees of the little glade they used to call their forest stood stark against the skyline. Today they seemed cold and unwelcoming, their very stillness a judgment.

  Ella led the way to the big oak and, mindless of the damp ground underneath her, sat with her back against the gnarled trunk. Andrew sat down beside her. A crow squawked, nearby the brook gurgled, a twig snapped, a pigeon filled the air with its plaintive coo – but Ella and Andrew were silent. Prepared speeches were forgotten as they sat side by side and each absorbed pain from the other. Andrew reached for Ella’s hand and held it tightly. She returned the pressure of his fingers.

  “I’m so sorry, El,” he whispered.

  “Do you love Maxine Doran?”

  His lips moved but no sound came out. Ella squeezed his hand.

  “Yes. I do,” he whispered. “How long have you known?”

  Ella withdrew her hand and turned to face her husband. There were tears in his eyes. His beautiful dark-blue eyes with the curling lashes. She lifted her hand and touched his cheek.

  “A while. But I didn’t allow myself to admit it until recently. I’m glad it’s out in the open now. I want you to be happy, Andy. You’ve been good to me. But we’re not right for each other. We’re a business, not a relationship. We both deserve better.”

  Ella watched as disbelief and relief chased across his face. Her words seemed to lift a weight from him. He raised an eyebrow.

  “You’ve met someone too?”

  “In a way, I have.” Ella smiled at his puzzled frown. “Not a man. I’ve rediscovered Ella Deasy and I want to get to know her better. If that sounds like weird psychobabble, it probably is. It’s very difficult to put logical words to the illogicality of my life for the past year.”

  “It’s bound to have been confusing. You had a very serious accident. I didn’t always have the patience I should have had with your slow recovery.”

  “Aah! The accident. My excuse. My shelter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ella picked up a curled leaf from the ground and began to smooth it out. It crumbled in her hand. Rubbing her palms together to free them from the debris of the decayed leaf, she took a deep breath.

  “Andy, can we be really honest with each other at this stage? It might be more painful now but it would mean we could both go forward with a clean slate.”

  He nodded his agreement and then Ella tried to explain to him – and to herself – why she had married him in the first place, how she had come to realise that she did not really love him as a wife should a husband, how she now knew that their relationship must end.

  “Peter Sheehan somehow unlocked the paralysis in my mind. I think he did it by very skilfully and calmly encouraging me to find the answers myself. ”

  “Yes. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is his field.”

  “But that wasn’t the problem. Not really. Yes, I was getting flashbacks to the accident but not of the crash itself. What haunted me and took over my life was the ghost of Karen Trevor.”

  “Ghost!”

  Ella laughed as she saw the expression on Andrew’s face. He was clearly thinking that she was still crazy.

  “Of course not,” she said quickly. “There are no ghosts. I allowed my imagination run riot. I obsessed about Karen Trevor, saw her everywhere. And she was always in the throes of dying. Screaming. She took over my life.”

  “So all the times you were pale and shaking and terrified, you were seeing Karen Trevor? Or thought you were.”

  “True. I could hardly tell you that, could I? Even on my worst days, when Karen shadowed me from dawn to dusk, when I could feel her coldness on my skin, when I believed she would suck the life from me, I still knew that she was a secret I should not share. So I stayed silent instead. Eventually I admitted to myself that I was using these illusions as an excuse. I didn’t have to move on from the time of the accident as long as the haunting was happening. I was hiding behind Karen Trevor and what I was hiding from was my life in general and my marriage in particular.”

  “It wasn’t that bad!” Andrew protested.

  Ella smiled at him. “No. We were very happy while we were building up the business. Remember? We were happy when we bought this site. Another acquisition for the Fords. But why do you think we never seriously planned a family? Wasn’t that always a vague plan off in the distant future? Why were our conversations always about work and never about us? We agreed to be honest today, didn’t we?”

  Andrew lowered his head and stared at the ground for what seemed like a long time. When he looked up he seemed older.

  “Honesty it is then. You’re right. We worked so hard to compensate for the lack of passion between us. We’re a good team. In business.”

  “Exactly. But a balance sheet is cold comfort. You’ve obviously found what I couldn’t give you.”

  “About Max. I didn’t deliberately . . . I never went out to . . .”

  It was dusk now, that time of evening when the last rays of light pierced encroaching darkness with a red intensity. A beam pierced through the treetops and lit the area where they were sitting. Ella stared at her husband and knew that she had caused some of the white hairs and fine lines on his forehead. The last time she had really looked at him, a long time ago now, he had been raven-haired and smooth-skinned. They had scarred each other in a silent, cold way.

  “You lied to me, Andrew. I’m disappointed about that. But I’m not jealous or resentful. Does Maxine love you?”

  “I think so.” Andrew hesitated before adding, “She’s had a lot of trouble in her life. She has her secrets too.”

  “Talking of secrets, what were you trying to hide from me in the office this afternoon?”

  Andrew shifted his position and suddenly seemed very intent on staring at the sunset. “A photograph,” he mumbled.

  “Of you and Maxine?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Andrew, remember we’re being honest here . . .”

  “It was taken while we were sleeping. Someone must have followed us and broken in.”

  “Of course the paparazzi would be interested in whatever Maxine was up to. She usually manages to avoid them pretty well. How come they found her this time?”

  “I don’t think it was the papers. Why would they send it anonymously to me?”

  He did not have to mention Jason Laide. Ella reme
mbered Jason’s cryptic remarks this morning. Hints about Andrew’s weekend. Jason was obviously prepared to stoop even lower than she had thought to get whatever he wanted. She looked down at her muddy red leather shoes and realised that her dealings with that thug had made the situation dangerously complicated.

  “Why does Jason Laide so desperately want this site? He has already bought the pub in Ballyhaven village. What’s going on here? Did you find out anything new from Oliver Griffin and Pascal McEvoy?”

  By the time Andrew had finished explaining the new Gambling Bill and the plans for designating Ballyhaven as a custom-built gambling resort, the last rays of sun had disappeared. Ella at last understood why Jason had targeted their fifty-acre site. And why the Coxes wanted it too. And there would be many other bidders once the proposed bill was in the public domain. Laide and Cox just wanted to beat the rush. But Laide would make sure that he was the one who came out on top.

  “Does Jason know that Maxine is the other bidder for Manor House?”

  Andrew shook his head. “I don’t think so. Unless you told him?”

  Ella’s angry look was answer enough. It was getting very cold now. Pulling her jacket close about her, she moved a little nearer to Andrew and peered up into his face.

  “Here we go again, Andy, talking about business when we should be discussing us. What are we going to do about our marriage, our future?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want a divorce.”

  Her words, loud and clear, seemed to echo around the glade. They were both shocked by the baldness of her statement. Andrew stood and held his hand out to her. She felt stiff, cold and damp when she got up. Standing close together, they shared the sadness, the sense of failure.

  “If you’re sure,” Andrew said, implying that there was another way when they both knew there was not. Sorting out the details would take time. Division of assets and finances. But there was no division of opinion. They both knew their future would not be spent together.

  Ella shivered. The glade was no longer a place of shelter and beauty. It was dark and threatening, each tiny sound magnified in the stillness.

  “We should go home now, Andrew. Have a shower and something warm to eat before we get pneumonia.”

  Andrew took her hand and together they picked their way through the rough terrain of their fifty-acre site. Each step they took brought them further away from a marriage which had not worked. By the time they reached the gate they were each engrossed in thoughts of their own separate futures.

  Chapter 26

  Frau Henner’s home was as solid and practical as the woman herself. There were no unnecessary frills and flounces. Set on the rocky slopes of the Mönchsberg Mountain, it overlooked the roofs and spires of the old town of Salzburg. The house was warm, clean and functional. Sharon loved being here. She liked the safe feeling of the heavy Germanic furniture which somehow seemed to fit perfectly into the compact rooms. It was now, as it had been since she had met Frieda, her refuge.

  Sharon finished the hot chocolate Frieda had made for her and laid her head back against the headrest of the big leather chair. She would love to close her eyes and sleep. For just ten minutes. A little oblivion. A Jason-free, decision-free oasis.

  “Well,” Frieda said, “what are you going to do? You know you can’t go on like this any more. It’s not right. Not fair on –”

  “I know! I know!” Sharon cut in impatiently and immediately regretted her brusqueness. She smiled an apology at Frieda. They understood each other well enough to preclude the need for words. Sharon’s hand went automatically now to her throat and lay protectively over the area Jason had bruised. Frieda saw the movement and immediately tried to push her advantage home.

  “You see! He nearly killed you. Are you going to wait for him to find out? What do you think he’ll do then? Pat you on the head?”

  “Yes, I do believe he would. With a hammer.”

  “So! Are you just going to wait for that to happen?”

  “Of course not. But it’s not as simple as I thought it would be.”

  “Divorce him. How complicated is that?”

  Sharon did close her eyes now but it was not to grab some badly needed rest. It was to review her situation, yet again. Everything swam around in her head making her feel dizzy and nauseous. She opened her eyes to find herself under the stern gaze of the woman who had become the only constant support in a life that was crumbling apart.

  “You haven’t told me everything, have you?” Frieda asked.

  Sharon bowed her head. She was ashamed to meet the questioning grey eyes. Ashamed to admit that she had been so misguided, so stupid as to marry a man like Jason Laide. Ashamed of the secret she had kept for the past few days. Ashamed to share what she had found in the safe in Junkergasse. Frieda leaned down towards her now and laid her strong hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s the envelopes, isn’t it, Sharon? The ones you asked me to keep here.”

  Sharon nodded. “Papers, photos, videos. Filth, blackmail, dirt!” Relieved now to get at least one of her guilty secrets off her mind Sharon continued more vehemently. “He’s evil, Frieda. I knew when I married him that he was a rough diamond. There was a time when I thought that quality attractive. But I never knew he was so unspeakably bad. Never knew what he was storing in the safe in Junkergasse. What you now have hidden in your attic. No wonder he was angry with me. That little stash must be worth a fortune to him.”

  “He’s blackmailing people?”

  “Yes. He seems to have something on almost everyone. Affairs, visits to brothels, evidence of bribe taking, stacks of IOUs. He has people from every walk of life under his control. Even a pornographic video of a leading supermodel when she was little more than a child. He’s vile! I can’t believe I helped him. How could I have been so naïve? I couldn’t have been, could I? I must have known these things he was asking me to stash for him were at the very least illegal.”

  “You had other things on your mind,” Frieda said calmly. “Besides, it could be to your advantage now. This stack of blackmail material will give you a lever. Something to fight him with.”

  “No. I can’t do that!” Sharon said quickly. “That would make me as twisted as him. I’m going to give these things back to the people he is torturing. I must break the stranglehold he has over their lives. Try to make amends for my part in it.”

  Frieda walked across the room and slowly eased herself into an armchair opposite Sharon. She folded her hands together on her lap. Chair and woman blended to become a unit. Restful. Strong. Sharon smiled at her.

  “You’re going to lecture me now, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to try to advise you,” Frieda replied quietly. “Of course you must free those people your husband has treated so badly but you must protect yourself first. Have you decided to stay here when you have divorced him?”

  “I can’t, can I?”

  “He’ll track you down wherever you go, especially when he knows everything.”

  “No! Never! He can’t know. He must never know.”

  Levering herself up from the depths of her comfortable chair, Frieda came and stooped down in front of Sharon.

  “He has a right to know, Sharon. Besides, if you tell him yourself, he loses some of his power. You can’t spend your life running away.”

  “But he won’t give me a divorce if he knows. He’ll take control. Exert his evil influence . . .”

  Frieda stood up abruptly. “Get your coat. We’re going to the hospital. You need treatment for that bruise on your throat. You need evidence. I’m your witness to domestic violence. And the collection of blackmail material in my attic is your insurance. Now get yourself ready and come on.”

  Sharon put her hand on Frieda’s strong arm. “I’ll go to the hospital with you. But I must, must, free those people Jason has been blackmailing. I had a part to play in that too. I’ll never rest until I’ve tried to right that wrong. Will you help me?”

  Fri
eda smiled and hauled Sharon out of the chair. “You’re a very stubborn woman. You should be worrying about yourself now, not other people. But of course I’ll help you any way I can. Now come on to the hospital. No more delaying.”

  Obediently, Sharon put on her coat, picked up her bag and allowed Frau Henner to lead her north to the Landeskrankenhaus Hospital.

  They did not notice O’Shaughnessy as he tailed them, discreetly taking photos.

  * * *

  Andrew swept a stack of paperwork aside and propped his elbows on his desk. He could not concentrate. The threat of Jason Laide’s words this morning had been quickly followed by a phone call from Gary Cox. A strident Gary Cox whom Andrew had never encountered before. The implication was that the Cox brothers’ continued association with Ford Auctioneers depended on their getting the Ballyhaven site. Hobson’s choice.

  Cox’s threat was clear. A huge drop in turnover for Andrew and Ella. Jason Laide’s threat was murkier and more terrifying. What in the hell was he hinting at? He knew about Maxine obviously, but how did he intend using the information? By telling Ella?

  Andrew dropped his head onto his hands as he thought of his wife. He must talk to her this evening, but which Ella would she be by then? The one who was in a perpetual fog, eyes glazed, withdrawn, out of touch with reality or the person who went scurrying around the place, making questionable deals and having accidents? Or maybe the different Ella he had seen briefly this morning, bright-eyed and smiling. Until Jason Laide had made his veiled threats. Then she had been the fleeing Ella, running away from reality, from life.

  A knock on the office door startled him. He straightened up and ran his hands through his hair just as one of the girls from the front office came in. She was carrying a large white envelope.

  “A courier dropped this in for you, Andrew. It’s marked for your attention so I don’t know what it’s about.”

  The girl placed the envelope on Andrew’s desk and stood there. Some instinct told Andrew that he needed privacy before opening the delivery.