Richard so she wouldn’t be left on the shelf. She’d made do. And it had been a disaster. Since
she’d come home from Abu Dhabi she’d made do again. Settling for safety and security and half a life. Well, she was sick of it. Sick of being a coward. Sick of being alone. Sick of no
sex life, sick of knowing that she was in her mid-thirties and childless.
But was it all too late now? All the men of her own age, should she ever find one, would be married. The separated ones would have lots of baggage . . . like she had. Her sell-by date was gone,
she thought mournfully as depression invaded every pore.
‘What’s
wrong
with you? Don’t be such a bloody drip. Stop whinging and feeling sorry for yourself.’ Caroline raged aloud at herself. She was such a wimp she
drove herself mad. Where was all the positive stuff? All the I-Can-Survive stuff. All the We-Need-To-Make-A-Clean-Break stuff. Why had all her optimism deserted her just when she needed it most?
She was a fine one to be lecturing Richard. Hadn’t she even said to him that she wasn’t looking for a man? And half believed it. She’d read so many self-help and spiritual books
recommended by counsellors and other alcoholics at her AA meetings. The message was always the same. Peace and happiness comes from within. Entering relationships for the ‘wrong’
reasons – out of neediness like she had – to end loneliness, to recover from a previous relationship, to have a sex life, would never bring fulfilment. There’d always be searching
and wanting, just like she was searching and wanting now.
But how did you find that longed-for ‘peace within’? Caroline mused. Would she ever not be needy? How did you change a lifetime pattern? When she read the self-help and spiritual
books she was always fired with good intentions and would find herself practising positive thinking for a while. But then, when times got tough, like now, she’d slip back into her old ways of
negativity and fear.
‘Come on, you’ve come a long way, stop being so hard on yourself,’ she murmured as she walked into the bathroom. It was only to be expected that the decision to divorce would
make her feel down. She still had to tell her father and brothers, although she knew that they wouldn’t take it half as badly as her mother-in-law. No doubt Richard had by now told his mother
about the divorce. Sarah Yates was one person she’d be glad to see the back of. She was a bitter old pill. She was probably freaking to think that the family name was going to be disgraced by
a divorce. Good enough for her, Caroline thought uncharitably. She hoped to God that Richard hadn’t lost his nerve. The woman had to be told one way or another. The sooner this was all over
the better.
He was going into town to get another suitcase and he’d told her that he’d have lunch in Temple Bar, so she was at a bit of a loose end. Maybe she’d go for a walk down on the
Bull Wall. She liked that walk. It always calmed her. She’d have a shower, get dressed, and clear her head with a walk. She had just slipped out of her towelling robe when the doorbell
chimed.
She wasn’t expecting callers. It could hardly be Devlin, who lived in the apartment block opposite. She’d just spoken to her on the phone. Caroline pulled on her robe again and
hurried out to the video intercom. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw her mother-in-law standing on the steps.
‘Oh shit!’ she muttered.
‘I know you’re there, Caroline, I can see your car. Open up and let me in,’ Sara snapped into the intercom.
Caroline, who hadn’t lifted the handset, couldn’t hear her, but could just see Sarah’s lips moving furiously. She dithered. It would be so easy not to answer the door. Not to
have to deal with the confrontation that was inevitable. But she’d have to face the woman sometime. Sarah would never let it go. She’d be like a dog with a bone until she’d had
her say. She might as well
she’d come home from Abu Dhabi she’d made do again. Settling for safety and security and half a life. Well, she was sick of it. Sick of being a coward. Sick of being alone. Sick of no
sex life, sick of knowing that she was in her mid-thirties and childless.
But was it all too late now? All the men of her own age, should she ever find one, would be married. The separated ones would have lots of baggage . . . like she had. Her sell-by date was gone,
she thought mournfully as depression invaded every pore.
‘What’s
wrong
with you? Don’t be such a bloody drip. Stop whinging and feeling sorry for yourself.’ Caroline raged aloud at herself. She was such a wimp she
drove herself mad. Where was all the positive stuff? All the I-Can-Survive stuff. All the We-Need-To-Make-A-Clean-Break stuff. Why had all her optimism deserted her just when she needed it most?
She was a fine one to be lecturing Richard. Hadn’t she even said to him that she wasn’t looking for a man? And half believed it. She’d read so many self-help and spiritual books
recommended by counsellors and other alcoholics at her AA meetings. The message was always the same. Peace and happiness comes from within. Entering relationships for the ‘wrong’
reasons – out of neediness like she had – to end loneliness, to recover from a previous relationship, to have a sex life, would never bring fulfilment. There’d always be searching
and wanting, just like she was searching and wanting now.
But how did you find that longed-for ‘peace within’? Caroline mused. Would she ever not be needy? How did you change a lifetime pattern? When she read the self-help and spiritual
books she was always fired with good intentions and would find herself practising positive thinking for a while. But then, when times got tough, like now, she’d slip back into her old ways of
negativity and fear.
‘Come on, you’ve come a long way, stop being so hard on yourself,’ she murmured as she walked into the bathroom. It was only to be expected that the decision to divorce would
make her feel down. She still had to tell her father and brothers, although she knew that they wouldn’t take it half as badly as her mother-in-law. No doubt Richard had by now told his mother
about the divorce. Sarah Yates was one person she’d be glad to see the back of. She was a bitter old pill. She was probably freaking to think that the family name was going to be disgraced by
a divorce. Good enough for her, Caroline thought uncharitably. She hoped to God that Richard hadn’t lost his nerve. The woman had to be told one way or another. The sooner this was all over
the better.
He was going into town to get another suitcase and he’d told her that he’d have lunch in Temple Bar, so she was at a bit of a loose end. Maybe she’d go for a walk down on the
Bull Wall. She liked that walk. It always calmed her. She’d have a shower, get dressed, and clear her head with a walk. She had just slipped out of her towelling robe when the doorbell
chimed.
She wasn’t expecting callers. It could hardly be Devlin, who lived in the apartment block opposite. She’d just spoken to her on the phone. Caroline pulled on her robe again and
hurried out to the video intercom. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw her mother-in-law standing on the steps.
‘Oh shit!’ she muttered.
‘I know you’re there, Caroline, I can see your car. Open up and let me in,’ Sara snapped into the intercom.
Caroline, who hadn’t lifted the handset, couldn’t hear her, but could just see Sarah’s lips moving furiously. She dithered. It would be so easy not to answer the door. Not to
have to deal with the confrontation that was inevitable. But she’d have to face the woman sometime. Sarah would never let it go. She’d be like a dog with a bone until she’d had
her say. She might as well
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