Double Wedding

by Patricia Scanlan

  A minute later they were up on deck.

  ‘Aw, come on, girls,’ Mike groaned. ‘Don’t be like that.’

  ‘Don’t be childish,’ Gary remonstrated. ‘That’s taking things too far, grow up.’

  ‘No, you grow up, Gary Davis.’ Carol threw her bag on to the quay and stepped off the boat.

  ‘Don’t do this, Jessie,’ Mike warned.

  ‘Why, what will you do? Spank me for being naughty?’ she said sarcastically. ‘You’re not my father, Mike, stop acting like you are. You showed a complete lack of respect for me over in that lock.’

  ‘Ah, stop talking nonsense, Jessie, you were making a dog’s dinner of it. I had to step in and take over or you’d have damaged the boat—’

  ‘I would not have damaged the boat. I’d have been fine if you hadn’t been yelling in my ear making me lose concentration,’ Jessica fumed, following Carol on to dry land.

  ‘If you go that’s the end of us.’ Mike’s face suffused a deep puce with temper.

  ‘Fine!’ Jessica retorted. ‘Fine! Fine! Fine!’

  14

  ‘Let them go.’ Mike was hopping mad as he watched Jessica walk along the quays, head in the air. He couldn’t believe that she was leaving him stuck on the Shannon, ending the couple of days they had so looked forward to. He couldn’t believe that she would flip over something as silly as a tiff about who steered the cruiser into a lock. And he couldn’t believe that she’d been so crass as to interfere in Carol and Gary’s business just because she couldn’t keep her temper. But most of all he couldn’t believe that she’d walked away when he’d said that if she did it would be the end of them.

  That cut to the quick.

  He watched them disappear up a side road that led to the town.

  ‘Goodbye and good riddance,’ he muttered.

  ‘They’ll come running back,’ Gary scoffed. ‘They’ll probably go up the town, indulge in a bit of retail therapy, have a coffee and come back full of the joys.’

  ‘Aren’t you concerned that Carol’s given you your ring back?’ Mike asked, puzzled at the other bloke’s lack of disquiet.

  ‘Nah! It will all blow over. She’s mad about me. She probably thinks it will make me change my mind about postponing the wedding, but she’s barking up the wrong tree there. She won’t be getting the ring back for a while though, and by then you guys will have made all the arrangements for your wedding and it will be too late. So really, she’s played right into my hands. It’s win, win, mate,’ Gary maintained confidently.

  Mike frowned. Gary was very casual about his relationship; he might just be the one barking up the wrong tree, he thought cynically, as he sat behind the steering-wheel wondering what to do next.

  ‘Let’s go for a pint,’ Gary suggested. ‘It’s lunchtime, we could get a chippie or something seeing as our women aren’t going to cook for us.’

  ‘Ah, I’m not really hungry.’

  ‘Let me give you a word of advice as regards women,’ Gary said firmly. ‘Never, ever let a woman come between you and your pint, or you and your grub, or you’ll spend your life parched and starving. Now come on. I’ve had plenty of experience with temperamental women and the best thing you can do is ignore their little tantrums and get on with normal life.’ He punched Mike in the arm. ‘Come on, Mike, chin up and be very cool with her when she comes crawling back and she’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again. Believe me.’

  It hadn’t knocked a feather out of the other man, Mike reflected as he went below deck to get his wallet. Maybe Gary was right. He was taking this all too seriously. But he and Jessica rarely fought and it was distressing when they did.

  * * *

  Gary poured some Hugo Boss between his palms and slapped it on to his cheeks. There were a few nice birds on some of the boats moored along the quays; he might bump into some of them in the pub and indulge in a bit of light flirting just to pass the time. He couldn’t very well bring one back to the boat and shag her. It might upset Mister Goody-Goody too much. He’d probably rat on him to Carol. But if the opportunity arose and he was invited back to one of their boats he was going to jump at it like a shot, Gary decided, as he dragged a comb through his curly black hair.

  Just who did Carol think she was, throwing his ring back at him in front of Jessie and Mike? She’d a bloody nerve, he thought indignantly. She was very close to being kicked out of his life for good. There were times he’d regretted getting pissed and asking her to marry him. Now was his chance to get out of it for good if he wanted and the sweet thing was he wouldn’t emerge from the débâcle looking like a shit. Oh no siree, he thought as he studied his reflection in the mirror. Carol had done the walking and now he was in total control of his own destiny. He grinned, noting his even white teeth and how good the light tan he’d got on the river made him look. He felt as free as a bird and he was going to damn well enjoy that freedom for a while. Although she didn’t realize it, Carol had done him the greatest favour ever and he was going to make the most of it.

  * * *

  ‘You know, I bet we won’t be gone twenty minutes before Gary suggests going to the pub and he’ll be chatting up every blonde bimbo he gets the chance to,’ Carol said glumly as they sat in a small café, she drinking hot water and lemon, Jessica drinking strong coffee.

  ‘I can’t believe Mike issued an ultimatum like that. That’s very serious,’ Jessica grumbled. ‘He shouldn’t play games with our relationship.’

  ‘Maybe he was serious,’ Carol remarked unhelpfully. Jessica’s eyes widened.

  ‘Well, if he was, I’ll never speak to him again,’ she said irrationally, biting into a large, gooey chocolate éclair, the most comforting thing she could lay her hands on to help sustain her through her emotional turmoil.

  She was very, very hurt that Mike had issued such a harsh ultimatum. Did that mean that every time they had a row he was going to use emotional blackmail on her? Well, he’d picked the wrong woman to try that little ploy on, she thought angrily, as she demolished the éclair without having tasted any of it.

  ‘Here’s our taxi, let’s go,’ she said crisply, seeing the taxi pull up outside. They’d asked one of the waitresses to call it for them when they’d ordered their snack.

  ‘Yeah, let’s shake the dust of Athlone off our feet. It won’t hold happy memories for me,’ Carol said darkly as she hefted her bag off the floor.

  They sat in silence in the taxi, lost in their own thoughts, and despite the taxi man’s best efforts to engage them in conversation, he eventually had to give up when their monosyllabic rejoinders made it quite clear he was getting nowhere fast.

  It was a relief to get behind the wheel of her own car eventually, and without further ado Jessica started the engine. She reversed out of her parking space in the marina, unable to believe that she was driving home to Dublin without Mike and that their relationship was in serious trouble.

  * * *

  Carol sat beside Jessica, glad that she didn’t have to drive the long trip to Dublin. It was a real bonus that she wasn’t stuck on her own on a bus or train after the trauma she’d endured. It was an even bigger bonus that Jessie and Mike were having a spat. It didn’t make her feel so totally alone. Selfish, she knew, but she couldn’t help it.

  Gary hadn’t made much of an effort to get her to stay, she thought bitterly. In fact he’d palmed her ring quicker than a pickpocket would. Carol was under no illusions that Gary would come begging on his knees for her to come back to him, and that was the most hurtful thing of all. Tears stung her eyes. There was only one thing to do to get over this and that was to cut him out of her life completely. There was to be no looking back. If she saw him at the tennis club it was vital to remain cool and frosty. She would have to put on the act of her life. No question. But would she be able to carry it off? Had she the courage? Her lip trembled and she bit hard, not wanting Jessie to see her crying. As they drove out of Banagher and headed for Dublin, Carol wondered had she made the biggest mist
ake of her life.

  15

  Jessica sat at her desk, sick to her stomach. It was the Tuesday after the Bank Holiday, three days after ‘The Row’, and she didn’t know if Mike and Gary were home or not. Mike hadn’t phoned to apologize and she was damned if she was going to apologize to him. She’d talked to Carol earlier and she hadn’t heard a dickie-bird from Gary. It was soul-destroying.

  Jessica couldn’t believe that Mike hadn’t called. Surely he must have realized that he’d stepped way over the line with his behaviour on the boat? Surely he’d see how macho and disrespectful he’d been? She’d never figured him for one to hold a grudge. It disappointed her hugely.

  Her stomach clenched and tightened, and tendrils of fear fluttered against her heart. Mike was her rock. Her sustenance. He was the one person in the world she could truly be herself with. He was the one that made her not only feel loved and cherished but very contented. Why wasn’t he ringing her? Surely it couldn’t be over. It was only a silly row.

  Jessica sighed deeply.

  But it was more than a silly row, it was about his perception of you, she argued silently as she typed up a potential guest’s biog for her boss.

  It was your ego.

  It was about standing up for yourself and demanding respect.

  It was about pride and not losing face.

  ‘Oh shut up,’ she muttered angrily.

  ‘What did you say?’ Mona, the girl at the desk opposite, lifted her head and looked at her questioningly.

  ‘Nothing, sorry, made a mistake, just talking to myself,’ Jessica fibbed.

  ‘First sign of madness,’ Mona said smugly.

  ‘You’d know,’ Jessica retorted. Mona was a nosy wagon who never had a good word to say about anyone, not to talk about whinging and moaning about her aches and pains. She was a martyr to her back. Mona by name and moany by nature, Jessica thought nastily, as she clattered the keys of her computer to discourage further conversation.

  ‘How did the cruise go?’ Mona asked chattily, coming over to perch on Jessica’s side of the desk.

  ‘Fine,’ Jessica said crisply. ‘Mona, I don’t mean to be rude but I’m way behind and I don’t have time to talk right now.’

  ‘Oh, suit yourself,’ Mona said huffily, flouncing back to her chair, where she comforted herself with a double dose of Nurofen to ward off an impending headache and disc twinge.

  The phone rang on Jessica’s desk and she almost leapt off the chair with fright and nerves. Was it Mike?

  Oh God, please let it be Mike, she prayed. If he only made the first phone call she’d forgive him everything, she decided, picking up the receiver.

  ‘The Adrian Jordan programme, Jessica speaking, can I help you?’ she said calmly, although her heart was thudding against her ribcage so frantically she was sure the caller could hear it.

  ‘I’m looking for the Pat Kenny show,’ a voice said plaintively.

  ‘Sorry, you’re at the wrong extension. I’ll put you back to the switch,’ Jessica said flatly, as her heart sank like a lead brick. She felt like crying. How could Mike do this to her?

  The day dragged even though she was up to her eyes, and every time the phone rang and it wasn’t him it was like a nail to her heart. At one stage, Katie rang for an update and even she was shocked that Mike hadn’t got in touch.

  ‘I hope he’s OK,’ Jessica fretted. ‘I hope nothing happened to him; maybe I should ring.’

  ‘Stop panicking, nothing’s happened to him. You’d have heard if it had. Bad news travels fast. Besides I haven’t heard anything on the news about a cruiser sinking on the Shannon,’ she added gaily.

  ‘Oh my God, I never thought of that,’ Jessica said in an utter panic.

  ‘Jessie, I was joking,’ Katie said exasperatedly.

  ‘Well, that’s not funny.’ Jessica’s voice rose an octave.

  ‘Sorry. Look, give it another day and then ring him, how about that?’ Katie suggested.

  ‘OK,’ Jessica said heavily. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘It will be OK,’ Katie comforted.

  Jessica chewed the top of her pen frantically to stop herself crying. She’d never felt so miserable in a long, long time. Could she wait another day? Maybe she’d call him tonight when she got home.

  * * *

  ‘Call for you, Carol,’ Denise Kelly called to Carol, who was standing at the photocopier, frustratedly trying to get it to work.

  ‘Coming,’ she replied, pressing the start key one last time. The machine wheezed into life and spat out three copies of the document she was photocopying. She grabbed them from the tray and raced back to her desk. Maybe it was a miracle. Maybe Gary had had second thoughts and was missing her like crazy.

  ‘Hello,’ she said airily, determined not to let on that she was in turmoil.

  ‘And when were you going to have the manners to tell me about your wedding, Miss?’ her mother’s voice came querulously down the line.

  Carol’s heart sank. She knew that tone of old. Alcohol-fuelled, and it was just eleven thirty in the morning.

  ‘Can I call you back at lunchtime, Ma, I’m at work,’ she murmured, unwilling for her colleagues to hear her conversation.

  ‘I know you’re bloody well at work. I rang you there, didn’t I? Do you think I’m stupid?’ her mother slurred faintly.

  ‘So can I ring you at lunchtime then?’ Carol struggled to keep the impatience out of her voice.

  ‘Oh sure I’m only your mother, the last to hear anything unless it’s bad news like with that Nadine one. I’m only the one who was left on her own to rear two ungrateful daughters. You probably ring Liz Kennedy more than you ring me. She was able to tell me about your wedding and that you were off gallivanting on the Shannon – she knows everything.’

  Carol closed her eyes in dismay as her mother launched into a tirade about how hard done by she was.

  ‘Ma,’ she interrupted in desperation, ‘I’ll phone you later. Bye.’

  Without waiting for an answer she hung up. Her palms were sweaty and her stomach was tied up in knots. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, she thought unhappily. Her mother had been on the booze for years, but it still made Carol sick to her stomach with tension when she was on a bender.

  No wonder Nadine was a handful, growing up with that, she thought guiltily. As soon as she’d finished school she’d upped sticks and left home, leaving her younger sister to face the music on her own. It was something she wasn’t very proud of. She must invite her sister up for a weekend and try and talk sense into her. It would be easier now that she wasn’t engaged any more. She’d tended to keep her family very much at a distance from Gary, not wanting to scare him off.

  Jessica’s mother must have mentioned the double wedding. Pity she’d opened her big mouth, because there wasn’t going to be one and her mother was getting into a tizzy over nothing.

  * * *

  Bill Logan cursed as the phone rang. His secretary was out sick and his day was turning into a right shambles.

  ‘Hello, yes,’ he clipped.

  ‘I just want you to know that our daughter’s getting married, and I’m damned if I’m paying for it out of the meagre pittance you give me. So you’d better stop bringing your little tart on her fancy foreign holidays and start saving your money,’ his estranged wife ranted down the phone.

  Bill’s neck muscles tensed. A call from a clearly drunken Nancy, just what he didn’t need this morning.

  ‘Call me when you’re sober,’ he barked and hung up. The phone rang again a minute later, shrilling, demanding to be answered. His hands clenched into fists. Fuck her, he wasn’t bloody answering that phone again today. It rang and rang and rang, making him feeling like a prisoner in his own office.

  Eventually it stopped and he felt the tension begin to seep out of his body. Even after all this time of distance and separation, Nancy could still get to him. She could still make him mad and apprehensive when she was pissed.

  So Carol was getting marrie
d! His little girl. Bill felt a fierce sadness and a guilt that was so intense he could almost taste it. His daughter hated him, blamed him for deserting her and her sister. She wouldn’t want him at her wedding, that was for sure. He’d forfeited the right to walk her up the aisle. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt.

  With a sadness that he’d thought he’d overcome a long time ago he picked up the phone and dialled his partner, Brona, the only woman who would understand how lonely and distressed he felt right now.

  * * *

  ‘Hi, Jen, Gary here, give me a call when you get a chance. Thought you might like to know . . . I’m footloose and fancy-free.’ Gary spoke cheerily into his ex-girlfriend’s answering machine before picking up his list of calls and heading out of the office.

  There was no point in hanging around, now that his engagement was off. There were women to be laid and pints to be drunk and he intended to enjoy the next few weeks. No woman had ever walked out on him before. Carol could get lost.

  Why had she ended it with him? he wondered disgruntledly. It was so out of the blue. He certainly hadn’t seen it coming. He’d never figure her out as long as he lived, he thought crossly, as he threw his briefcase and some computer parts into the back of his car. What did she mean when she’d said that she wasn’t going to discuss his inadequacies in front of the others? What did she mean by his inadequacies? She was hardly referring to his sexual prowess, since she’d never really experienced it, much to his frustration. If she’d had sex with him he was damn sure she’d never have given him his engagement ring back.

  Maybe it was frustration that had made her illogical. Whatever it was, he didn’t like being ditched. No, he didn’t like it one little bit, Gary thought crankily, his previous good humour beginning to evaporate as he realized that he was going to have to let on to Jen that he had ditched Carol and not the other way around.