‘Oh, Helen.’
‘Don’t laugh at me,’ she snapped, seeing the amusement in his eyes.
He was around the table in a flash and pulled her out of her chair and into his arms. ‘I’m not, sweetheart. I’m just amused that you could think there is a woman alive who would ever measure up to you.’
‘Oh, Johnny.’ She stared into his eyes, mesmerized by the love and tenderness she saw there. ‘Do you really mean that, after twenty years together? I’m not the easiest person to live with and I know, by times, I drive you mad.’
‘We drive each other mad; in good ways as well as bad,’ he said with a grin.
She smiled. ‘Mmm, yes, we do, don’t we?’
He kissed her long and hard. ‘Let’s go and do that right now.’
‘First tell me what’s been going on.’
‘No,’ he kissed her. ‘First I’m going to convince you that you’re the only woman for me.’
Later, Helen lay back in his arms feeling happy and sated. ‘I’m convinced.’
He chuckled. ‘Glad to hear it.’
‘I’ve missed this.’
‘What, darling?’ He kissed her neck.
‘We’ve always had lovely long chats after sex but in the last few weeks you’ve just gone straight to sleep.’
‘Ah, well,’ he sighed, ‘that’s because if we’d talked, you’d soon have got the truth out of me.’
Helen turned around to face him. ‘So there is something.’
‘There was, but it’s all sorted now.’ He stroked her cheek and smiled into her eyes. ‘I didn’t want to worry you, darling.’
‘Well, that didn’t work, did it? I’ve been imagining all sorts of things. Is someone threatening you?’
Johnny looked baffled. ‘No, of course not; why would you think that?’
‘You name it, I’ve thought it. Now, please tell me.’
‘Okay.’ He propped himself up on the pillows. ‘I found a lump under my arm a couple of months ago. It started to get bigger so I went to the doctor.’
‘Oh my God.’ Helen sat up, feeling sick. Johnny’s mother had died of breast cancer.
‘Now don’t panic, it’s okay.’
Helen nodded, willing herself to be calm. ‘Are they going to do a biopsy?’ She sat back to look at him, running her hands over his chest. ‘I can’t see anything; where is it?’
Johnny turned on his side and raised his arm to reveal a small plaster. ‘They’ve already done the biopsy, love. I’ve been in and out of hospital for every feckin’ test under the sun in the last few weeks.’
Helen searched his face. ‘And?’
‘I got the all-clear on Friday,’ he smiled.
‘Really? Now you’re not just saying that, Johnny, because if you are . . .’
‘It’s true, honestly,’ he protested.
‘Thank God. But if it wasn’t cancer, what was it?’
‘Just some harmless cyst; they drained it and I’m fine. They only dragged me in for tests because of the family history.’
‘It was the first thing I thought of.’
‘Which is why I didn’t tell you.’
Helen snuggled into him, kissing the plaster gently. ‘You shouldn’t have gone through this alone; you must have got a scare.’
‘I did,’ he admitted. ‘I had to wait a week for the results of the biopsy and all sorts of things were running through my head. After what happened to Dominic, well, it makes you think.’
‘Promise me you’ll check yourself on a regular basis; not just your chest but,’ she nodded downwards, ‘everywhere.’
He tumbled her over onto her back, laughing. ‘I tell you what, my love, I’ll make a deal with you: I’ll check you if you check me.’
She laughed. ‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, now let’s get started.’
The Aer Lingus 737 made a smooth landing in Heathrow and within minutes Rob was striding through the terminal towards the arrivals hall and Vanessa. He couldn’t help wishing that it was Marianne who was waiting for him but he quickly banished the thought. He would speak to her on Friday. Right now he would concentrate on Vanessa. He threaded his way through the passengers in the baggage area and emerged into the arrivals hall. It was swarming with people waiting to greet colleagues, friends, family and lovers. He scanned the crowd for Vanessa. And then there she was, pushing through the crowd, smiling, her arms outstretched.
‘Hello,’ he said, giving her a brief hug. ‘You look well.’ And she did; there was a bounce in her step and a confident tilt to her head. ‘This new job must be agreeing with you.’
‘It is,’ she said, looking up at him with a shy smile. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Rob. I wasn’t sure you would come.’
‘I had to,’ he said as she linked her arm through his and they made their way towards the exit.
They went to a restaurant in Chinatown. A fabulous place, Vanessa assured him; everyone who was anyone knew it was the only place to eat. He listened with interest as she talked about her job and her authors; she was obviously loving every minute. Again he was struck by the change in her. She had always been bubbly and chatty but she usually wanted to talk about them as a couple.
‘You’re not with me.’
‘Sorry,’ he said with an apologetic smile. ‘My mind wandered there for a second. I was just thinking how happy you seem here. You’ve changed.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ she protested. ‘It’s just the job, I love it.’
‘I think it’s more than that. London obviously agrees with you.’
‘Are you trying to tell me I should stay here?’ she joked, but her eyes were guarded.
‘Do you have that option? I thought the girl you replaced was only on maternity leave?’
‘She is but another position has come up and I’ve been invited to apply for it.’
‘That’s very flattering; they must think highly of you.’
‘Do you think I should go for it, Rob?’
He looked at her. ‘That has to be your decision.’
She stared down at her plate for a moment and then raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Is there any reason why I should return to Dublin?’
‘Well, there’s your mother . . .’
She gave an impatient toss of her head. ‘Rob, please, you know what I mean.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I think I do. So, reasons you should come back to Dublin; let me think. Well, there’s our wedding to plan; that’s next year after we’ve moved into our house, right?’
She reddened. ‘She told you?’
‘No, actually, her mother-in-law just mentioned it in passing.’
Vanessa’s eyes widened. ‘She’s married?’
‘She’s a widow.’
She looked slightly shamefaced. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Why did you lie, Vanessa?’
‘I didn’t like the fact that you were working with such a pretty woman. I wanted her to know that you were taken. You should be flattered,’ she gave him an awkward smile.
He couldn’t return the smile. ‘I’m not. I don’t like being manipulated. You must have realized that the truth would come out sooner or later.’
‘I’m sorry. I was wrong. Did you come here to tell me off for embarrassing you, Rob, or is there more?’ she asked, fidgeting with the chopsticks with nervous fingers.
He looked at her, feeling a bit of a heel for humiliating her, but what she’d done was wrong and it had angered him. He knew that she’d only done it because she loved him and felt threatened, and that is when he knew that he had to tell her straight. ‘No, you’re right, there’s more. I’m sorry, Vanessa—’
‘Please don’t go on,’ she begged. ‘I get it.’
He sighed, genuinely miserable now for causing her pain, but he knew that she would soon get over him; she had a new focus in her life. ‘I’m just saying sorry if you feel I messed you about; it wasn’t intentional and I did enjoy our time together.’
‘I enjoyed it too, Rob. Don’t
feel bad. I was kidding myself. I knew I cared more about you than you did about me. I suppose I thought that if I loved you enough, you would come to feel the same way about me.’ She gave a small, sad shrug. ‘But it doesn’t work that way. If I was still in Dublin perhaps I’d be begging you now not to end it – that is what you’re doing, isn’t it?’ Her voice wavered but her chin was up and she looked him straight in the eye.
‘Yes. I’m sorry, Vanessa.’ It was a pathetic reply but there was no point in dressing it up. Rob knew that if he talked at length he would give her some hope when there was none.
There were tears in her eyes but she smiled. ‘Don’t worry, darling, it’s okay. You’re right. I am happy here and I will definitely survive.’
‘I think you’ll do a lot more than that; I think you’ve found your niche and you are going to make a brilliant editor.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You are a wonderful girl,’ he said and meant it. ‘And you deserve a guy who worships you.’
‘Yes, Rob, I do. Would you mind if we went home now? I don’t feel much like clubbing.’
‘Perhaps I should spend the night in a hotel . . .’
‘No, darling, let’s say goodbye properly; it shouldn’t end here like this.’
He stared at her, stunned; he couldn’t do it.
She recoiled at his expression. ‘It is her, isn’t it, Rob? It’s Marianne. My instincts were right; you’ve fallen for her.’
Rob couldn’t bring himself to deny it. ‘There’s nothing going on; she has absolutely no interest in me in that way, Vanessa. She’s a widow with two little kids and she needs a job; she’s not interested in boyfriends.’
‘You do love her,’ she gasped.
‘Vanessa—’
She sat up straight in her chair and smiled. ‘I hope it works out for you, Rob, I really do.’
‘Oh, Vanessa.’ He put out his hand to take hers. ‘You are a very special woman.’
She smiled but her eyes were bright with unshed tears. ‘I sure am! You know what? I think it would be best if you stayed in a hotel tonight, after all.’
Chapter Thirty-five
Marianne looked around the room of people Tweeting merrily and felt a buzz of exhilaration. The antacids she’d popped before the class started had been unnecessary. Not only had she managed to teach these people the basics of social networking, they were obviously enjoying themselves and she was having a ball. Who knew that teaching could be so much fun?
‘Pat Feeny, you ought to be ashamed of yourself,’ one woman called across to the man sitting opposite.
‘You’re not supposed to talk to me, Sandra, you’re supposed to Tweet me. Isn’t that right, Marianne?’ He winked at her.
‘That’s right, Pat.’
‘You see?’ He sent another message.
‘Pat!’ Sandra said when another Tweet popped up in front of her, but she was smiling broadly as she carefully typed her reply.
‘Ah, me heart is broke,’ he said with an exaggerated sigh when he’d read it.
‘Shush, you’re supposed to Tweet,’ Sandra retorted.
Marianne, who could follow all of her students’ conversations on her laptop, was delighted to see that although there were some stilted conversations about the weather, there were also some lively chats going on about grandchildren, holidays and gardening, and Pat Feeny wasn’t the only one flirting. It had been a great idea of Rob’s to get into this end of the business; she could just imagine the fun it would be when she did the course with Dot’s ladies club.
It had been unnerving at the beginning when they’d filed into the room and sat looking at her expectantly, but as soon as she’d kicked off with a few jokes to lighten the mood, as Rob had suggested, everyone relaxed.
She moved around the room now, answering questions and showing more advanced techniques to those who had picked up the basics quickly. Perhaps Rob wouldn’t like her going outside of the course material – he also ran an advanced course in networking – but the way she looked at it, the more enthusiastic they became, the more they would want to learn. They would also spread the word about the classes to their friends.
As they filed past her to leave, she handed out information leaflets about upcoming courses.
‘You can teach me anything, anytime,’ Pat told her.
‘Dirty oul’ divil.’ Sandra rolled her eyes at Marianne. ‘Night, love. Thank you, that was very interesting. My grandchildren will be in shock when they start to get emails and Tweets from their nana. Although, now I come to think of it, they might block me!’
‘I’ll never block you,’ Pat assured her over his shoulder.
‘Shut up and go home to your wife. How she’s put up with you all these years I’ll never know.’
Marianne laughed. ‘Goodnight, and thanks for coming.’ After switching off all the computers, she went down to the school caretaker to let him know she was finished and then went out to her car. She was just about to drive off when her phone rang. ‘Hello?’
‘Marianne, it’s Johnny.’
‘Hi, how are you?’ she asked. It was the first time she’d talked to him since Helen had confronted him. While she was thrilled to hear that there was no other woman and that his health scare had turned out to be just that, she still felt embarrassed that Helen had thought they were having an affair.
‘Grand, not a bother, love. How’s my favourite mistress?’
‘Oh, Johnny, can you believe it?’ she laughed. Trust him to tackle the awkward situation head-on.
‘Of course I can. Sure I’m a great catch; all the women are mad for me.’
‘Or just mad,’ she heard a voice say in the background.
‘Is that Dot?’
‘It is. I just dropped in hoping for a quick word; will you be long?’
‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’
‘Excellent. Put the kettle on, Dot.’
When she walked in, Andrew was sitting on Johnny’s knee munching a biscuit and Kate was by his side colouring.
‘I believe that we’re all set for free fish from now on,’ Johnny said in greeting.
‘Ah, yes, thanks to my two budding anglers.’
‘Three,’ Dot told her. ‘I fancy having a go myself.’
‘So, how did the class go, Teacher?’ Johnny asked.
‘Really well. I’m not sure how proficient they are but they certainly seemed to have fun.’
‘Will you come and teach at our school, Mummy?’ Andrew asked.
‘I wouldn’t be allowed, darling. Teachers have to go to college for a long time to be good enough to do that job. Now, you should be in bed.’
‘I just want to show Uncle Johnny the photos of my fish.’
‘Another day, pal,’ Johnny told him. ‘I need to talk to your mum and then I’m off home to bed too.’
Andrew’s eyes widened. ‘You go to bed at the same time as me?’
‘Every chance I get,’ Johnny assured him.
Dot laughed. ‘Come on, Andrew, if you’re quick I’ll tell you a story.’
‘Not out of a book, Granny. I want to hear one of yours.’
‘Don’t we all?’ said Johnny. ‘Maybe I’ll stay the night.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Andrew giggled. ‘You wouldn’t fit in my bed.’
‘I’d better go home so and see if your aunty Helen has any tales to tell.’
‘Bed,’ Marianne hugged her son. ‘I’ll come up later and say goodnight.’
‘Mum, can I watch a video?’ Kate asked.
‘Just for thirty minutes.’
‘They’re both in great form, Marianne,’ Johnny said when they were alone.
‘Yes, they are settling in very well. They love the fact that they can walk to school and play on the green with their friends.’ Marianne poured a cup of tea for herself. ‘So, have you news for me?’
No, I just wanted to arrange our next date.’
‘Oh, stop,’ Marianne laughed.
He grinned. ‘Actually,
I do have news. Frank came back to me about your paintings.’
‘Oh? Am I going to be rich?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ he chuckled, ‘but you should do quite well.’
‘Oh, Johnny, give me more than that,’ she pleaded. ‘Are we talking a new toaster, a fridge, a car or a country estate?’
‘There are no guarantees, Marianne, but Frank says about forty of them are worth auctioning and he would expect them to fetch at least a hundred grand.’
Marianne stared at him, stunned. ‘You’re kidding?’
‘Knowing Frank, I’d say that’s a conservative estimate; he knows your circumstances and he would never give you false hope. That said, these are difficult times, Marianne,’ Johnny cautioned. ‘I find it hard to believe that people are paying the same kind of money for art that they used to.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’
‘But he says that because people are afraid of trusting the institutions they are more inclined to invest in something that they can actually see and, I must admit, I trust his judgement, so,’ he shrugged, ‘who knows?’
‘Johnny, if I got half of that amount I would be thrilled. This is fantastic news.’
‘So, will I let him go ahead and put them up for auction?’
‘Absolutely! Please thank him for me.’
‘Come along on the day and do it yourself. I think you might like him; all the ladies seem to.’
‘If he pulls this off I will be his willing slave for life,’ Marianne assured him.
He laughed and stood up. ‘I’ll go and get the others out of the car. A few he thought were worthless but the rest he says may increase in value over time. It seems Dominic knew more about art than we gave him credit for. Oh, but I nearly forgot! That ugly one that you hate so much? Frank says it’s not worth a whole lot and neither is the frame. He figured that perhaps it was the contents that Dominic wanted you to hold on to.’
‘The contents?’
Johnny produced an envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to her. ‘He found this.’
Marianne looked at it and saw her name written in Dominic’s distinctive, flamboyant hand. ‘I wonder what it is.’
Every Time We Say Goodbye Page 30
