Too Good to Be True

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  “Oh, Ben.” Freya put her arms around him.

  “OK, OK.” His voice was muffled. “I know you care, but you’re smothering me.”

  “If there’s anything I can do,” she said as she released her hold.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll let you know.”

  Although she wanted to tell Ben about Brian’s marriage proposal, Freya didn’t think that this would be a good time. Instead she picked up a sales report and looked through it, then she read and re-read leaflets about a new herbal ice gel until finally Ben asked her if she wouldn’t mind leaving his office because he was trying to get some work done.

  “Why work now?” asked Freya. “You surely can’t be in the mood.”

  “What else would I do?” Ben hit the save button on his computer. “The alternative is sitting at home and contemplating what kind of idiot I’ve been.”

  “I suppose so,” said Freya. “Only, Ben — yes, you were an idiot, but — well, at least you did it.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “You met this girl and you fell for her and you married her, and OK, it was mad and crazy, but maybe sometimes we all need to be mad and crazy.”

  “The trouble with that,” said Ben as he opened a new file, “is that at some point you have to deal with the consequences of the craziness.”

  “I can’t help blaming myself,” said Freya.

  “Why?”

  “I tried to bring you up kind of sensible,” she said. “Maybe I over-did it. Maybe that’s why you did something mad when you got out of my sight.”

  He laughed. “I’ve been to the States loads of times and never done anything worse than smoke a joint,” he told her. “I think the problem is that, intrinsically, the Russells aren’t exactly mad and crazy people.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Freya, you did a really good job with me,” he said. “You were the best sister a bloke could have. If you start blaming yourself, then I’ll probably end up in therapy for years with the guilt.”

  Freya laughed.

  “Go home,” Ben told her. “I want to stay here for a while.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” he said as he scrolled down the page and found the stock number he’d been looking for. “Absolutely.”

  Carey stayed with Gina and Rachel for a week before making up her mind. She’d thought long and hard about it the previous evening while she was idly turning the property pages in the newspaper, the pictures blurred because of the tears that welled up when she was least expecting them. She was going to buy a place of her own. She was going to be a proper, independent woman living on her own for the first time in her life.

  She’d first considered it as she’d listened to the hum of conversation between Gina and Rachel in the kitchen during the week, aware that the two girls were keeping their voices low so as not to disturb her. She didn’t want to stay and mess up their house-share. She didn’t even want to do the house-share thing with anyone anymore. She was thirty-three years old and it was time for her to take charge of her life. Obviously she thought she’d taken charge of her life when she’d married Ben, but that had clearly been her letting him take charge of it. And, she muttered to herself as she tidied away the duvet and pillow, like all men he’d messed it up beyond belief. Worse even than Peter Furness because this time she’d said the words, she’d told him how much she loved him, she’d really and truly believed in him. None of them was worth believing in. Ever.

  She switched on her mobile and waited for a moment in case there was a message alert. She’d half expected one the day after she’d spoken to Ben, but he’d clearly taken her (supported by Gina) at her word. Despite the vague hope that lingered at the back of her mind and that she simply couldn’t get rid of completely, she knew he wasn’t going to contact her. He was obviously going to contact his solicitor instead. She stood undecidedly in the hallway, her finger hovering over Ben’s speed-dial number on her phone. Then she shook her head and shoved the phone firmly back into her bag before going out and closing the door behind her.

  The development on the outskirts of Swords village had been under construction for quite some time and she’d been aware of it over the past year. It was a mixture of houses and apartments built around either grassed areas or cobbled courtyards. She’d even talked to Gina about buying a place there when the signs had first gone up. But she simply hadn’t bothered because making decisions about buying houses or apartments was something that real grown-ups did and she’d never really felt like a grown-up before. She wondered why she suddenly felt grown-up now.

  The woman in the sales office was brisk and businesslike. She was the epitome of everything Carey thought a strong woman should be — charcoal-grey trouser suit, sleek black hair, perfectly made-up face. She looked competent. She asked Carey what kind of property she was interested in and then brought her to see the show apartments, although, she added as she opened the door, they would be selling these very soon too because almost every property in the development had now been purchased and they didn’t need the show apartments anymore.

  Carey stepped inside the first one and looked around. There was no doubt that the apartment was very well finished and had everything she could possibly want. Underfloor heating, the saleswoman told her, which maximized space. Fitted oven and hob. Fridge-freezer. Washer-dryer. Power shower. Carey walked through the living area and opened the doors onto the small west-facing wooden balcony. The courtyard was divided up by planted areas containing evergreen shrubs and sapling trees, which, Carey imagined, would look lovely in a few years’ time although, right now, they still looked freshly planted and somewhat uneasy with their surroundings. She turned back into the apartment again and wondered whether she’d feel at ease living here herself. Quite suddenly she thought of Ben’s quirky house on the wrong side of the city where she hadn’t had the chance to feel at home, and she had to swallow hard to stop the tears forming in her eyes.

  She walked out of the apartment and across the hallway to a second one with a slightly different layout. There was someone else looking over it too; as she walked in she could hear the saleswoman giving her efficient pitch about the great location, the proximity to the motorways and the airport, the wonderful open spaces within the development…I almost believe her myself, thought Carey, as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Carey!” The other viewer had turned as she entered and looked at her in total shock.

  “You again.” She was totally shocked herself. How come he kept turning up like this?

  “You know each other?” The saleswoman smiled brightly.

  “Yes,” said Peter. “What are you doing here, Carey?”

  “Same as you, I suppose,” said Carey. “Looking.”

  The saleswoman slipped out of the apartment and left them alone.

  “You’ve persuaded him to move to the northside?” Peter smiled faintly at her.

  She said nothing.

  “Sandra and I are selling the house,” he continued. “We got a really good offer. I didn’t think she’d sell, I thought she’d insist on me buying her out, but herself and the whizz-kid are moving away.”

  “Moving away?” Carey’s eyes widened. “Where to?”

  “Scotland,” said Peter in disgust. “Apparently he’s been offered a three-year contract with a firm there for some ridiculous amount of money and he’s asked her to go with him. They’ll be heading off at the end of the summer. She doesn’t want the hassle of the house.”

  “What about Aaron?”

  “She’s taking my son with her too,” said Peter.

  “But surely she can’t just do that.” Carey looked aghast. “There are laws, you know. You could stop her.”

  “What’s the point?” Peter shrugged helplessly. “I’d spend a fortune on lawyers, she’d hate me, and Aaron would probably end up hating me too. I don’t want my visits to him to be marred by fighting with Sandra. If I let her go — well, that way we stay civil, don’t we?”

>   “Oh, Peter.” Carey had to fight the urge to put her arms round him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’ll get to see him,” said Peter wryly. “I’ll visit him and he can come to me too.” He looked round the apartment. “That’s why I want to get a decent place. So that he has somewhere nice to stay. So that he doesn’t think I don’t care.”

  “You’re a nice man, Peter Furness,” said Carey.

  “That’s what you once thought,” he said. “But you changed your mind.”

  “Not everything you did was nice,” she amended. “You went out with me and you let me think that you were a single bloke, and I don’t know when you would’ve told me if I hadn’t asked. And you turned up at my party and scared the living daylights out of me.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Peter. “I know it was wrong. I couldn’t help it.” He sighed. “Anyway, what does it matter now? You’ve done your thing and I’m — well, I’ll get it all back together. Eventually.”

  Carey swallowed. “My thing didn’t exactly work out like I expected,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  “In fact, it didn’t work out at all.”

  He stared at her. “How exactly hasn’t it worked out?”

  “We’ve split up.”

  “Already!”

  She nodded.

  “Carey, not that I don’t think this is a good thing, but why?”

  “Complicated,” she said.

  He looked anxious. “Was I to blame?” he asked. “Did he see you talking to me? Did it cause trouble?”

  “Not as much trouble as his relationship with his ex-girlfriend,” said Carey.

  “Bloody hell.” Peter exhaled. “I never realized exactly how fast you moved, Browne. Married and separated within a month!”

  “OK, Peter, can you not make me feel even more of an idiot than I do already?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you feel anything. But surely it’s a good thing?”

  “Maybe.” She bit her lip. “Right now I don’t really know.” A tear slid down her cheek. She hadn’t intended to cry. She sniffed and wiped it away while Peter watched her speculatively.

  “So why are you here?” he asked.

  “I’m going to buy a place of my own,” she said. “I’ve had it with relationships for a while. I’m obviously not destined for the right sort of one.”

  “Oh, honey.” He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Don’t be silly.”

  She allowed herself to lean against his body. He held her a little tighter.

  “I’m not ready to start seeing people again.” She moved out of his hold. “Just in case you had some mad notion about you and me.”

  He looked abashed. “Do you still care about him?” he asked. “Your husband?”

  “Right now I don’t have a clue how I feel about him,” she said honestly. “But I sure as hell know that I’ll never trust him again.”

  Things had worked out better than she expected, thought Carey as she drove to the airport for her shift later that night. After wandering round the apartments in the new development she’d had a word with the saleswoman, who’d given her a price for the first show apartment she’d seen. The price sounded fairly reasonable for a place that was carpeted and furnished (though the furnishing was somewhat sparse; “minimalist” was the word the saleswoman used) and was ready to move into. It would probably be at least six weeks before all the paperwork was done on their side, the saleswoman said, which had left Carey chewing her lip and wondering where she could stay in the meantime. There was no way she could spend all that time with Gina and Rachel, and her only other alternative was moving back in with her parents — which, as far as she was concerned, was no alternative at all. She hadn’t told them she’d left Ben yet. She didn’t have the emotional strength to go through it all again.

  Then Peter Furness, who’d waited outside while she dealt with the saleswoman, had asked her about her plans and she’d told him that she was buying one of the show apartments but had some problems about where to live in the meantime because there was no way anyone would rent her a place for less than two months.

  “Stay with me,” he suggested. “My house sale isn’t due to be completed until the end of April at the earliest.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” she said. “No way.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “I’ve a spare room and it would be nice to have some company.”

  She shook her head and told him that she didn’t think it was a good idea. And then he said that they were both in a similar position and that it was stupid to let past history get in the way of a sensible arrangement and that, even though he still found her very attractive, he wouldn’t so much as look in her direction if she didn’t want him to.

  “I don’t want anyone looking in my direction right now,” she told him bitterly. “Not you, not Ben, not anyone.”

  He said he understood perfectly and that she wasn’t to feel under any pressure, but that this was a good solution to her problem and it was the least he could do, seeing as he had — according to her — previously broken her heart. And treated her badly, though he hadn’t intended to and he was really and truly sorry about that. And maybe he’d even been partly to blame for her current problems, having kissed her outside Oleg’s.

  “Oh shut up,” she said eventually and then agreed to stay with him.

  Gina had looked at her in absolute horror when she’d told her.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’re planning to move in with the man with whom you had a torrid relationship but who conveniently forgot to mention to you that he was, in fact, married with a kid. And you’re leaving your husband of less than a month to do it.”

  “You’re twisting it round,” Carey said. “I’m staying in Peter’s house, sure — but I’m insisting on paying rent, not moving in with him the way you mean. And I’d already left my husband because he’s still in love with his former girlfriend.”

  Gina grimaced. “It sounds sort of cut and dried when you put it like that, but it’s not that simple, Carey, is it?”

  “It’s perfectly simple to me,” she said tautly.

  “Look, don’t you think you should at least talk things through with Ben first?” asked Gina.

  “You were the one who took my phone and told him to sod off,” said Carey.

  “I know.” Gina looked uncomfortable. “You looked so upset that I couldn’t help it. But surely you don’t want to let it go without a fight.”

  “Oh, come on!” Carey took off her tiny glasses and rubbed at the lenses furiously. “I got these vibes from the sister all the time — Ben was practically living with this Leah person before he met me. They all thought he was going to marry her.”

  “But he didn’t,” Gina reminded her. “He married you.”

  “Only because it was easy,” said Carey. “And it was a mistake.”

  “I liked him,” said Gina sadly.

  “I thought I loved him,” Carey whispered. “But I was wrong.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  FRENCH MARJORAM

  This oil is comforting and fortifying, and is a great anxiety reliever

  The thing that Leah liked best about her job was that it gave her time to think. As her fingers gently kneaded the muscles of her clients, her mind would often be so far away that she would twitch with surprise if the person lying on the table in front of her moved or sighed and brought her back to reality. Leah thought allowing your mind to wander was an important part of overall well-being. Far too many people didn’t give themselves time to think.

  She was miles away when the girl who had booked the Swedish massage murmured that it would be nice if Leah could really work on her shoulders today. She was totally stressed, she told Leah, since her swine of a boyfriend had broken up with her and was now going out with a girl he’d once told her he hated. “Traitorous pig,” she muttered as Leah obliged by digging her thumbs into her muscles. They were all the same, weren’t they?<
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  “I guess so.” Leah wasn’t sure what the right response should be. In her opinion the bloke had a good reason for leaving the girl. She was irritating and whiny, and Leah could well understand why he might have had enough of her. She worked even harder to make up for thinking such nasty thoughts about someone who was paying her a lot of money to feel better.

  “That’s so good,” sighed her client.

  Leah said nothing. The hushed plainsong that was playing on the CD filled the silence. She felt the girl unwind again, the texture of her skin changing beneath her touch. She loved that moment when she could sense a client move into a different mode, when she could literally feel them loosen under her fingers.

  She wondered how relaxed Ben was feeling today. How he was feeling, full stop. It was almost two weeks since the party, two weeks since she’d kissed him, and only a couple of hours since she’d learned that his wife had left him. Freya had phoned her with the news. Ben’s sister had sounded deeply shocked and very angry. She said that she hadn’t trusted herself to phone before now.

  “You promised,” she told Leah. “You promised nothing would happen.”

  Leah hadn’t been able to think of the proper response to that. She was feeling somewhat guilty at how she’d behaved that night. But how the hell was she expected to behave? It was all very well to think she should be calm and accepting about everything, but Ben Russell had bloody humiliated her like no man ever had before. It was all very well too to tell herself that she could get over him because she’d got over him at least three times already, but the thing was, she didn’t want to get over him. As far as she was concerned, Ben was her long-term boyfriend. And surely that counted for more than being someone else’s short-term husband? Besides, Freya was right — Carey hadn’t been anything much to look at, although Leah conceded that there was something striking about the shock of dark curls framing her oval face and lively brown eyes. However, she wasn’t beautiful or groomed or elegant in the way Leah knew that she was herself. She simply couldn’t understand what Ben saw in her. Besides which, the girl was a bitch. She’d been sharp and sparky in their encounters and not in the least sympathetic to Leah’s own plight. At this point Leah stabbed her fingers into her client’s shoulders and the girl protested that she wanted to be de-stressed, not physically hurt. Leah apologized and tipped more oil onto her palms, lightening her touch as she worked along the girl’s spine.