Double Wedding

by Patricia Scanlan

  * * *

  ‘We need to talk, Brona,’ Bill said tiredly as he slumped into his favourite chair. He was whacked. The traffic had been bumper to bumper, single lane, for most of the way from the Avoca Handweavers until the Loughlinstown roundabout; the roadworks were an irritant he could have done without.

  ‘I’ve a headache,’ his partner muttered uncooperatively.

  ‘What did Carol say to you that has made you so different towards me?’ he demanded, determined to get to the bottom of their problem.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she stammered.

  ‘I know you went to see her. Carol let me know in no uncertain terms. You’ve been very cold towards me for the past few weeks. Why? I want to know. I deserve to know. You owe me that much.’

  ‘You don’t want to hear what she said, Bill,’ Brona said unhappily.

  ‘Why? It can’t be any worse than what she said to me today,’ he said sardonically.

  ‘Why did you leave them, Bill?’ she burst out.

  ‘But you know why I left, Brona, I told you all of that,’ he said exasperatedly.

  ‘No. No, I know why you left her. But why did you leave the kids? Why didn’t you take them with you?’

  ‘How could I? I couldn’t take them away from their mother, from their home, their schools,’ he argued, dismayed at her reaction.

  ‘But you left them with an alcoholic, Bill. She couldn’t take care of them. They had to take care of her. They were only children, for God’s sake. What way did Carol put it? You left them physically, spiritually, morally and emotionally, she said. You left them to deal with her drunkenness. You deserted them totally and she can never forgive you for that. And I’m finding it hard to as well; they were only little kids. What do you expect them to do now, after deserting them, welcome you with open arms? Get real, Bill,’ she said bitterly, before bursting into tears and running from the room.

  The colour drained from his face. He felt he’d been kicked in the solar plexus. There was nowhere to hide. That dark thing he’d been running away from all these years had reared its ugly head and confronted him. Riven with guilt, he buried his head in his hands and wished he were dead.

  * * *

  ‘What a day,’ Jessie whispered, snug in the crook of Mike’s arm. He had stayed the night at her mother’s. They had gone to bed early, tired after the drama of the day.

  ‘Hard to beat, all right,’ Mike agreed. ‘Just when things were getting sorted too. Shame.’

  ‘Do you think Gary will go through with it?’

  ‘I don’t know. He was fairly shaken. He never saw Carol like that before. None of us did. Plus it didn’t help that Nancy was in a pretty bad way.’

  ‘God, she was in an awful state. Mam said she’s going to try and stop drinking for the wedding. Mam’s taking her under her wing.’

  ‘Good old Lizzie, she’s got a heart of gold and if anyone can straighten Nancy out, Liz will,’ Mike said fondly.

  ‘What sort of a wedding are we going to have?’ Jessie bit her lip.

  ‘The best, Jessie. The best. Maybe the worst has happened. Nancy’s going to get her act together. Bill’s out of the picture. Nadine likes Gary so she’ll behave herself.’

  ‘And pigs will fly,’ Jessica scoffed.

  ‘Stop! I’m being positive,’ Mike said sternly.

  ‘And I’m being realistic.’

  ‘And I’m horny.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake,’ Jessica giggled as she felt him grow hard against her.

  ‘Come on, the worst that can happen is this antique of a bed will collapse,’ Mike murmured, kissing her soundly.

  She kissed him back and to her surprise felt her body respond.

  ‘Hmmm,’ he murmured, smiling against her mouth. ‘This is just what we need, you know, and I’m not just saying it because I want a ride.’

  ‘I know.’ She slid her leg between his thighs. ‘I love you,’ she whispered, as his fingers began to do the most delightful things to her.

  ‘And I love you and that’s all that matters,’ he whispered back. As silently and gently as they could, they made love tenderly, all memories of the last few hours pushed to the deepest recesses of their minds.

  Afterwards, lying spooned together, they took comfort from their intimacy, its balming comfort a shield against all the uncertainties that lay ahead.

  32

  ‘We’re really blessed with the weather this summer, aren’t we, Nancy?’ Liz observed as they walked down a small side street that led towards the wildlife reserve.

  ‘The best since ’95, I’d say,’ wheezed Nancy breathlessly. Liz slowed her pace a little. Sometimes she forgot that Nancy wasn’t able to match her pace. They had been walking together every evening for a month now, and she had to admit that she was more than surprised that Nancy had embraced the notion of starting afresh.

  She felt a surge of admiration for her neighbour’s frail but determined efforts to change her life. Nancy had cut down her cigarette intake, and was desperately trying not to drink as much. Sometimes she succeeded, other times Liz knew that drink had triumphed over her and she would be shaking and hungover. But she’d still gamely appear at Liz’s gate at seven p.m., as if the walk was the lifeline that she clung to grimly.

  Today, Liz was pleased to note that Nancy had a hint of colour in her cheeks. That awful, pasty grey hue that made her look so old and haggard was slowly disappearing. Liz had persuaded her to come to the hairdresser’s with her one Saturday. She had entered the salon with shoulder-length lank, mousy hair liberally streaked with grey, and had left it with a chic strawberry-blonde bob that took years off her, highlighting her sculptured cheekbones and gold-flecked hazel eyes.

  ‘It’s hard to believe it’s me,’ she murmured, touching her hair as if she felt it was going to revert to its previous state of disarray at any moment.

  ‘Yes, it is you. The new you.’ Liz was thrilled at the transformation. She hoped with all her might that Nancy would keep it up. They walked past the swimming-pool and Liz suddenly had a brainwave. ‘You should come swimming with Tara and me. We go twice a week. It’s very invigorating.’

  ‘I haven’t swum in years,’ Nancy replied. ‘I don’t know if I’d remember how to.’

  ‘Ah, it’s like riding a bicycle,’ Liz laughed.

  ‘Is it very expensive? I have to watch the pennies, you know. Bill never gave me a red cent towards doing up the kitchen. If it wasn’t for your Mike and Johnny next door I don’t know what I would have done. Can you believe that, Liz? Not a red cent. That man has a life of bliss up in Dublin with none of the worries I’ve got and it grieves me, Liz. It does my head in.’

  Liz sighed. She should have known that ‘Bad Bill’ would come up in conversation at some stage. Not a walk passed that Nancy didn’t launch into some sort of diatribe about her estranged husband.

  ‘Let’s make a pact, Nancy, as part of your new life. Let’s not talk about Bill during our walks. Let’s keep it a good and positive energy. Tara gave me great advice years ago when I was dumped by a rat, before I met Ray,’ she said conversationally. ‘I used to walk the streets with Tara saying, “Why did this happen? I loved him, I’ll never get over him. What did he see in that other one that he dumped me for?” ’ She chuckled at the memory. ‘I nearly drove Tara mad, so eventually she made me promise that I would only think about him and moan about him for ten minutes every morning. That’s all I was allowed to keep him in my head for. It was really hard at the beginning, Nancy, but I stuck with it, and the funny thing was, I started to feel such a relief that I’d let go of him, I started to enjoy life again and then I met Ray and there was no comparison. Ray was solid, a real man, not like the other yoke.’

  She sighed, thinking of Ray. ‘I really miss him. I suppose I have some nerve telling you to let go of Bill when I can’t let go of my Ray.’ Tears suddenly spurted down her cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Liz, poor, poor Liz, it’s much harder for you,’ Nancy exclaimed, jolted out of her introspecti
on by her companion’s grief. ‘Why would you want to let go? He was the love of your life and you were the love of his.’

  ‘I know.’ Liz rubbed her eyes. ‘But some of the spiritual books I’ve read say that you have to let go so that the person that you love can move on in the spiritual realms and I just don’t seem to be able to do it. I’m so lonely for him.’

  ‘Of course you are.’ Nancy, the comforted, became the comforter. ‘Why wouldn’t you be? You had a great marriage. I used to envy you both, you were such companions to each other.’

  ‘I know you probably think I’m horrible but I really envy Mike and Jessica,’ Liz confessed. ‘They have such fun and they can’t keep their hands off each other. I don’t know about you, and Tara’s the only other one I’d say this to, but I miss sex. I really miss intimacy. Do you?’ She eyed Nancy, curious to hear what she’d say. They were roughly of the same age, both were alone, and she felt comfortable enough with her now to ask her such an intimate question.

  Nancy gave a wry smile. ‘Liz, I’ve never told this to anyone, but I never knew what the fuss was about. I never had an orgasm; Bill wasn’t a very tender lover. A few perfunctory kisses, a squeeze of the boobs and that was his idea of foreplay. Maybe he just didn’t fancy me. Maybe it’s different with the woman he’s with. I torture myself about it sometimes, imagining them making love.’

  ‘Oh, don’t do that – why torment yourself?’ Liz patted her on the arm.

  ‘I know. I’m a sad specimen. Sometimes I pretend that I’ve met a gorgeous man and we’re really happy and Bill comes back and gets mad jealous and tells me that it’s me he’s loved all along, and I tell him to get lost and it’s very satisfying,’ she said emphatically.

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ Liz laughed. ‘And who knows, you might meet a gorgeous man. One of my books, I can’t remember the name of it, but I’ll root it out for you, says that when you let the energy of the past go, a door opens and a new energy comes in. Ask for a new man to come to you. Put that positive thought out in the Universe.’

  ‘Are you mad, who’d look at me?’ Nancy jeered.

  ‘Stop that now, you’re looking very well and you’re doing great. You’re a woman in your prime. Both of us are.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Nancy asked, pleased.

  ‘I know so,’ Liz said warmly. ‘Mid-forties is still young, Nancy, for God’s sake.’

  ‘I might meet a toy boy at the wedding,’ the other woman laughed. ‘Mike will surely have some nice friends.’

  ‘Indeed he has.’ Liz flicked a stone into the sea.

  ‘He and Jessie are a happy couple, aren’t they?’ Nancy inhaled the balmy, sea-scented evening breeze. ‘Happier than my Carol and her chap. Carol doesn’t have a capacity for happiness, I don’t think, after all that happened to her. I didn’t help. I was drunk for so much of her childhood.’

  ‘She should talk to a professional about it. Maybe you could persuade her. I think it would help her a lot,’ Liz said tactfully.

  ‘You should do counselling, you’re very good at it,’ Nancy remarked approvingly.

  ‘Are you joking? I can’t even get myself out of the bed in the mornings sometimes,’ Liz scoffed.

  ‘You hide it very well, Liz, and I’ll never be able to thank you for the way you’ve helped me. You don’t know what you’ve done for me.’

  ‘You’ve done it for yourself, Nancy. Just keep it up,’ Liz encouraged, as they scrambled up over the rocks to escape the incoming tide and headed for the reserve to feed the ducks.

  * * *

  ‘I think it’s lovely on you, Carol,’ Amanda, her tennis partner and bridesmaid, said, trying to keep the weariness out of her tone. It was late-night shopping; this was the third bridal boutique they’d tried. And, after weeks of watching Carol trying on and discarding wedding dresses, she’d started lying through her teeth. If Carol decided on a sack, Amanda was now prepared to say it was gorgeous.

  ‘I still like the one in Marian Gale’s,’ Carol dithered.

  ‘I know, but it was very expensive. This one’s half the price and it is lovely on you. It’s so elegant.’

  ‘I want it to be sexy, not elegant,’ Carol retorted.

  ‘It’s sexy as well.’ Amanda could have kicked herself.

  ‘Do you not think it’s a bit plain?’ She turned and looked at the rear view of the simple white satin and lace sheath with the softly draped neckline and long white train that swirled around her feet.

  ‘Oh no! It’s you. Some of the ones you tried on were a bit OTT. You know the meringue syndrome. It gives you a great cleavage and a lovely shape. Makes ’em stick out.’

  ‘Really, do you think so?’ Carol said eagerly, twisting and turning to get the best view.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Amanda said fervently, sensing that victory was in sight and congratulating herself for zeroing in on Carol’s vanity point. ‘Gary’d love it,’ she added slyly. ‘He’ll be trying to slip his hand inside that neckline for a feel. Look at the way it shows the curve of your boobs. And yours are so firm. Very sexy, Carol. It’s definitely the nicest one on you that I’ve seen.’

  ‘Are you sure? I know the saleswoman will tell me it’s fabulous but that’s only because she wants a sale. Believe me, I’ve tried on enough of them to get to know the patter.’

  ‘Look, we can go and look at a dozen more if you want.’ Amanda backed off a little. ‘I just really like that one on you. You’ve got great arms and the tan looks fantastic against the white.’

  ‘Jessie’s wearing cream so at least we won’t clash—’ The curtain to the cubicle swished open and a beaming saleswoman studied Carol approvingly.

  ‘Much better than the last one on you. It’s an ultra-classy style. Think Grace Kelly. Think Audrey Hepburn. I suppose Alison Doody or Yvonne Keating would be the modern equivalent here in Ireland, if you wanted a contemporary comparison.’ She studied her again, eyes flicking over Carol from top to toe. ‘I like it,’ she pronounced.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Carol said, losing her nerve.

  Amanda threw her eyes up to heaven behind Carol’s back. The saleswoman gave her a sympathetic smile as she hurried forward to help Carol out of the precious creation.

  ‘Let’s go to the club and have a drink. I told Jessie I’d see her there,’ Carol said tiredly as she stepped out of the dress.

  ‘OK,’ agreed Amanda. Her feet were killing her and a drink was just what she needed. ‘And you know something, I’m damned if I’m waiting for a bus. Let’s get a taxi. I’ll pay,’ she added exasperatedly when she saw Carol about to protest. It was a wonder she wasn’t being asked to pay for her own bridesmaid dress, Carol was so mean sometimes, Amanda thought sourly as she plonked herself down on a chair and waited for the bride-to-be to get dressed.

  * * *

  ‘Hey, Jessie, I think I might have found us a house,’ Mike said excitedly, the noise of the traffic behind him almost drowning out his voice. ‘Hold on, I’ll nip down a side street.’

  ‘Where is it – what’s it like?’ Jessica felt excitement bubble.

  ‘It’s in Kilcoole, about two minutes away from the beach. I saw it in an estate agent’s window the other day and I went to have a look. It’s a little cottage, not very modern but it’s spotless and I think you’ll really like it. It’s even got an Aga – you can cook great on an Aga,’ he enthused.

  ‘Well, seeing as you’ll be doing the cooking, I’m very happy for you,’ she teased.

  ‘Could you drive down tomorrow night? I could meet you there. I’ve told the estate agent we’ll take it. It’s too good to let it slip through our hands.’

  ‘You like it that much?’ Jessica said in amazement.

  ‘Yeah, I do. It’s in a lovely place, real quiet, but only a few minutes’ walk to the village. It’s a good spot for commuting, it won’t mean sitting in the car for hours for you. And we’ll be able to walk on the beach. And it’s only about twenty-five miles to Arklow. And there’s a nice garden—’

  �
�What’s the bedroom like?’ Jessica had her priorities.

  ‘Snug and cosy, just the way you like it, and it’s got a big brass bed.’

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Jessica squealed. ‘I’ll take some time I’m owed and I’ll leave work early. Friday evening rush hour on the N11 isn’t for the faint-hearted.’

  ‘That’s my girl. Have to go. I’ll talk to you later,’ Mike said regretfully. ‘Love you.’

  ‘Love you too,’ Jessica said happily as she carried her coffee over to an empty table in the bar. This was the best news that she’d had in ages. Maybe their luck was turning. It was a month since the nightmare Sunday afternoon meeting that had left her feeling edgy and worried. She and Carol had gone to meet the manager in The Four Winds and had sorted out the reception, but the other girl was distant and unhappy and it had put a damper on things. Carol had only gone home once since that afternoon, to help Mike and Nancy’s next-door neighbour paint the kitchen.

  She was a strange girl; she seemed to be able to switch off from her family just like that. If Nancy were Jessica’s mother she’d be worried sick about her. But then maybe her friend had had to learn to switch off as a form of self-protection. It was easy for her to judge – she’d never experienced what Carol had. All she’d known in her childhood was love.

  Shame washed over her. She’d been thinking horrible bitchy thoughts about the other girl lately. Not even lately, she admitted ruefully. It was since Carol had suggested the double wedding. It was time to cut it out once and for all, she told herself sternly.

  Liz had told her that Carol’s mother was making a huge effort to straighten herself out. It would be great for her own sake if she did, but it would be great for Jessica’s nerves too. A sober Nancy would be one less thing to have to worry about at the wedding.