Page 65 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘How bloody dare he!’ she screamed when Kindalebegan to fade, and the coast road lay ahead. ‘Lies and more bloody lies!’ Mary’s resentment bubbled in her throat, and for a moment, she thought she might be sick. She dialled Una’s number, desperate to talk to her friend but the call went to voicemail and Mary hung up.
A beach came into view, and biting her lip to stem tears, Mary turned off the road and pulled into a space overlooking the sea. Silencing the engine, her hands trembled as she bunched them into fists, the nails dagger-like on her skin.
‘You are a lying, deceiving husband,’ Mary muttered, staring out to sea. ‘Conor, you’re a coward!’
Her humiliation was complete as the discovery hit her like a freight train, and she wondered what the hell she was going to do. They had four kids who were about to find out that their home life was broken, and their daddy didn’t want Mummy anymore.
‘Oh God,’ Mary cried.How on earth was she to live with the shame?But the most profound pain was that Conor didn’t love her, and he’d repeatedly lied.
His love was now for Lucinda.
Mary stepped out of the car and began to walk along the windswept shore. A squall whipped her hair into a mess that mirrored her feelings, and salty spray stung her cheeks. Tears blurred her vision as she tried to make sense of the betrayal that had shattered her world. At that moment, she had no one to turn to and longed for Atticus’s strong arms to wrap her in his warm, fatherly embrace and tell her that it would all be alright.
But her dad was in another country, embarking on anew phase. How could she burden him when he’d only just gotten his mojo back? She couldn’t talk to Mungo and knew that her brother had little time for Conor and would probably race over the water, ready to kill his unfaithful brother-in-law. And that would serve no purpose other than to cause distress for the kids.
This was one battle she had to solve on her own.
Mary shivered and turned away from the sea. She felt cold all over and rubbed at her arms. Somehow, she had to find the strength to chart a new course, but at that moment, as her phone began to ring, all Mary wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sob. Reaching into her pocket, she stared at the screen.
Conor.
‘Go to hell!’ Mary yelled, then pressed disconnect.
Ahead, waves crashed, and Mary was tempted to move forward and keep walking. To let her body be carried by the sea’s deep current, away from the pain. Like the turmoil of the water, her emotions were all over the place, but Mary knew that she had to face the situation and somehow emerge still standing.
Resisting the urge to lash out and kick at the pebbles on the beach, Mary screamed into the wind. ‘Damn you, Conor. I gave up my career to have your children, and in return, I get a husband who treats me like a housekeeper and a pile of laundry that never bloody ends!’
Mary folded her arms and thought of the time when she’d been a woman running a business with a title that didn’t involve the word ‘mammy’. She’d swappedthe cut and thrust of commerce for toddler tantrums and ungrateful teens.
Reaching down to pick up a pebble, Mary hurled it into the sea.
A sharp gust almost knocked her sideways, and staggering, she cursed. ‘I may have given up my career and my waistline, but just you bloody wait, Conor Murphy!’ she yelled. ‘You might not appreciate me, but I won’t go down without a fight!’
Mary closed her eyes as spray dampened her skin, and her children’s faces appeared. Her four beating hearts were waiting for their mammy, and suddenly, Mary knew that life had to carry on. Unlike their father, she wouldn’t let them down.
‘I can do this,’ Mary told herself, repeating the words as she opened her eyes. Biting her lip and flexing her fingers, she drew in a deep breath and breathed out very slowly.
Turning away from the rhythmic crash of waves, Mary climbed into her car.
It was almost time to pick the kids up from their schools, and if she didn’t put her foot down, she’d be late. Glancing in the mirror, she attempted to straighten her hair. Somehow, she mustn’t appear upset. Reaching for her lipstick, she smoothed the gloss evenly. The kids mustn’t know that anything was wrong. She needed time to think about their future and was determined that she wouldn’t let her children down.
‘Not like my scumbag, pig of a husband!’she whispered. Sitting upright, Mary gripped the wheel tightly and set off.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Anew week began at Solma Vacaciones. With the sun rising above caravans and motorhomes, there was a gentle rustle of palm trees and the chirping of birds as campers lifted their sleepy heads and set about their day. The housekeeping team was riding on buggies stacked high with cleaning products and tools, ready to freshen the facilities. They called out cheery good mornings to the campers out early, walking their dogs, jogging, or simply enjoying the freshness of the morning. In the supermarket, the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries drifted over the site, encouraging guests to purchase crusty breakfast baguettes and buttery croissants.
Atticus, back from his preamble with Ness, had already brushed the overnight fallen leaves and windblown sand from his pitch. Now he was making a start on Winnie’s windows, and when he was confident that they gleamed as brightly as her bodywork, he set to work on the awning, wiping down the table and chairs.
‘Cooee!’ a voice called. ‘Someone’s up early!’ In a fluffy dressing gown with old-fashioned rollers tucked under a plastic cap covering her hair, Cheryl shuffled towards the awning in pink fluffy mules.
Atticus smiled as she approached.
‘Couldn’t you sleep, or didn’t you come home?’ Cheryl asked. She pulled out a chair and plopped her body down without waiting to be asked.
‘Good morning,’ Atticus said. ‘Good to see you, can I tempt you with a coffee?’
‘Yes, that would be lovely, and you can tell me all about your date.’ Cheryl loosened the belt on her gown, revealing a shortie nightie and, kicking off her mules, stretched out her plump legs. Ness lay down beside her, and she gently stroked the dog’s head. ‘I take it that things went well?’ She raised an eyebrow as Atticus handed her a mug of milky coffee. ‘You didn’t come back to the pool party, and it went on till very late.’
