Francesca's Party (30 page)

Read Francesca's Party Online

Authors: Patricia Scanlan

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Francesca's Party
12.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Millie raised an eyebrow.

‘He said I should have told him that I was going on holiday so that he could have given me a bit extra in this month’s cheque. He thinks a few extra bob might have come in handy.’

‘Magnanimous of him,’ drawled Millie, biting into a cherry.

‘Then when I told him I didn’t want his charity—’

‘I enjoyed that bit,’ Millie interjected, eyes twinkling.

‘He launched into a tirade of abuse and said I was
selfish,
ungrateful and childish. The bloody nerve of him. That’s when I hung up.’ Francesca glowered at her sister.

‘Francesca, do yourself a favour. Get out of it,’ Millie advised.

‘Oh, let’s forget it for the time being,’ Francesca said wearily. ‘I came on holiday to relax, not to be thinking about the mess I’m in.’

‘You’re not in a mess. You’re doing fine,’ Millie soothed. ‘And now I’m going to get us another drink, and after that we’re going to go up and open a bottle of wine and sit on our fabulous balcony and get the last rays and then we’re going to find somewhere nice to eat and then we’re going on the piss. How about that?’

Francesca managed a weak smile. ‘I’m exhausted already, listening to you.’

‘Oh, come on. Cheer up. I think I’d like a margarita. I’ll get us a pitcher and we’ll take it from there.’ Millie leaped up from her lounger with a gleam in her eye. ‘I haven’t been on the tear in yonks. It’s just what we need.’

‘You’ll get no arguments from me.’ Francesca drained her glass and handed it back to Millie.

‘That’s my girl. You’ve led too sheltered a life, that’s your problem. Fortunately I’m here to rectify that. One pitcher of margaritas coming up. Oh men of Portugal, watch out. Women on the loose.’

A pair of gangly, spotty teenage boys walked past their loungers on their way to the pool. ‘Want to grow up quick, boys?’ Millie murmured giddily.

Francesca burst out laughing as Millie sashayed up to the bar. She was irrepressible. Just the tonic
Francesca
needed. Mark’s impertinence had really got to her, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on it. She was damned if she was going to let him ruin her holiday.

Mark capped and uncapped the fountain pen in his hand. He was raging. It was time Francesca was given a good talking to. She was living on the pig’s back thanks to him and she wasn’t one bit grateful. It was nice for her to be able to swan off to Portugal on his hard-earned cash, he fumed. Didn’t she realize that she wouldn’t have the cushy lifestyle she had if it wasn’t for his damn hard work?

When she came back off her holiday he was going to have it out with her. She could start being civil and treating him with a modicum of respect. It was the least he deserved, he thought self-righteously. That was one thing about Nikki, she paid her way and expected nothing from him financially. And he really admired her for it, Mark thought angrily. Francesca was a bloody parasite with no manners and she could get lost. She might change her tune if the monthly cheque wasn’t lodged in her account once or twice. She might show a bit of politeness then. He daydreamed of Francesca ringing to ask for her money and he being gracious and suave, the way he was with clients, telling her that he’d see to it eventually as he was up to his eyes. It would be good for her to know that she wasn’t the centre of the universe.

Not that he could really go down that road, he thought regretfully. She might start making waves and he needed that like he needed a hole in the head. Mark flung his pen onto his desk and got up and
walked
over to the window, his face set and hard. He was totally pissed off with Francesca and her damned rudeness. He was going to give her a good talking to, nevertheless.

Enough was enough.

Chapter Thirty-one

‘ISN’T THIS LOVELY?’
Francesca inhaled the fragrant night air, scented with jasmine and honeysuckle. It was the last night of their holiday. They were sitting in the courtyard of a small, family-owned restaurant and the smell and sound of sizzling steak, lamb and pork drifted from the huge barbecue pit as the chef seared the meat and the smoke rose to waft under the noses of the hungry diners.

Francesca speared a chunk of fresh tuna from her tuna salad starter and ate it appreciatively. ‘It’s so tasty. God! I’ve put on a stone since we discovered this place,’ she moaned. The Casa Velha restaurant was just across the road from their apartment block and they had discovered it on the third night of their holiday. They’d eaten there ever since, the food was so delicious.

Millie pronged a luscious fat prawn, smothered in the most divine sauce she had ever tasted and drooled over it. ‘Do I have to go home? Do I have to get in front of a cooker again and
cook
?
Francesca, this week has been paradise.’

‘Yeah, it’s been great, hasn’t it? Millie, thanks so much for booking it. I’ve really enjoyed myself.’

‘Oh, don’t thank me.’ Millie laughed. ‘I was just using you as an excuse to get away. It’s been absolute bliss.’

‘It has been fun,’ her sister agreed. ‘It’s the first time I’ve laughed and really enjoyed myself since … well, you know.’ Francesca made a face.

‘I know.’ Millie reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘And it’s only the beginning. You stick with me, babe … fun’s my middle name.’

‘Mad is your middle name,’ Francesca teased.

‘Why don’t you come to France with us for a week in August when we take the gîte?’ Millie suggested as the waiter cleared away the first course.

‘I don’t think I could, really. It wouldn’t be fair on Ken. I’m not in the job a wet week. Maybe I might get over for a long weekend. We’ll see.’

‘Tsk. I forgot you’re working now. Dang!’ Millie took a sip of wine.

‘That’s me: Francesca Kirwan, Career Woman,’ Francesca said cheerfully as the waiter placed a platter of medallions of pork and sauté potatoes and mixed vegetables in front of her.

‘I’ll drink to that,’ giggled Millie, taking another slug of wine. ‘You know something? I’m tipsy. It’s dreadful. I’m turning into a lush!’

‘Now, we’re not drinking as much as we did the first night we went out,’ Francesca warned.

‘Oh, don’t remind me!’ groaned Millie as she tucked into her swordfish. ‘That was the mother and father of a hangover the next day, wasn’t it? I never
saw
you green in the face before. But we
did
have extenuating circumstances,’ she pointed out, topping up Francesca’s glass.

‘True,’ Francesca conceded as she ate a mouthful of succulent pork. ‘Mark is definitely an extenuating circumstance. Oooh, this is mouth-watering, Millie, have a taste,’ she offered.

‘I don’t mind if I do.’ Millie took a forkful of meat and savoured it. ‘It’s scrumptious. I wish I could kidnap the chef and bring him home with me. Maybe I could seduce him. Lord above, Francesca, how are we going to get back to real life?’

‘With great difficulty,’ Francesca assured her solemnly as the wine began to kick in and she could feel giddiness bubble up. She gave a little giggle.

‘What are you laughing at?’ demanded Millie, starting to titter herself.

‘I was just thinking: if Ma could see us now, pissed as newts, me on the verge of divorce and you considering seduction and asking young boys if they want to grow up quick – what a disappointment we must be to her.’

‘Ha ha ha,’ guffawed Millie.

‘Ha ha ha,’ echoed Francesca, much to the amusement of the other diners. They chuckled heartily for five minutes before composing themselves enough to resume eating their meal and order another bottle of wine. It was that sort of night.

Nikki studied Mark surreptitiously over the top of her
Business and Finance
. He’d been like a bull this past week and she was mystified. ‘See the Euro’s not doing great,’ she remarked casually.

‘Umm,’ he muttered.

Nikki closed the magazine. ‘What’s up, Mark? You’re in very bad form,’ she asked bluntly.

He scowled. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Come on. Tell me.’ She went over and joined him on the couch and put an arm around him. ‘It’s not like you, darling. Usually you’re fairly up. I’m worried about you,’ she said tenderly.

Mark smiled at her and kissed her on the nose. ‘It’s nice to know that someone’s worried about me,’ he said dejectedly.

‘Who’s been getting at you? Tell Nikki,’ she wheedled, stroking his cheek.

Mark gave a sigh that came from his toes.

‘Come on … share,’ she urged.

‘No-one’s been getting at me exactly,’ he hedged. ‘It’s just, well, Viv Cassidy – a friend, or rather I should say an acquaintance of Francesca’s – phoned me last Monday looking for her. She couldn’t get her at the house and she didn’t have her mobile number. She’s a nosy old cow anyway, she likes sticking her nose in people’s business,’ Mark said crossly.

‘And?’ prompted Nikki. This wasn’t all about some nosy old biddy.

‘Anyway I wouldn’t give her Francesca’s mobile number. I bloody should have,’ he growled.

Nikki listened with growing interest. Francesca was in the doghouse, she inferred … with great pleasure. What was rare was wonderful.

‘I rang Francesca to give her the message and her sister answered. And she was pretty damn rude too.’

Better and better
, thought Nikki happily but she stayed silent. Let him get it all off his chest. If
she
butted in with a comment he might clam up.

‘She said they were out and that Francesca was in the Ladies,’ Mark continued. ‘Anyway, I left a message with Millie asking Francesca to call me back.’

‘And did she?’ Nikki murmured.

‘She did and it transpired that they were in Portugal. Imagine! She never even had the manners to tell me that she was going.’ His indignation was a joy to behold. This was
wonderful
, Nikki rejoiced.

‘And when I mentioned to her that if she’d told me that she was going I’d have put a couple of extra bob into the account, she had the fucking cheek to insult me and tell me that she didn’t want my
charity
.’ Mark was still steaming about it. ‘I ask you, Nikki, there she is swanning around Portugal thanks to my generosity, and she can’t even show a bit of common civility. I’ve just had it up to here.’ He waved a hand under his neck, his eyes hard and angry.

‘That was extremely rude of her, darling. You’ve been so good to her financially. No-one could accuse you of being at all selfish. It really upsets me that she takes it all for granted and doesn’t treat you very nicely,’ Nikki exclaimed indignantly.

‘Well, I’ve had enough of her nonsense and bad behaviour. I’m going to have it out with her once and for all and tell her to show a bit of respect. I’m not mean, you know that, Nikki, but I can tell you I was damn nearly thinking of not lodging her allowance this month. Well, delaying it for a while even,’ he amended.

Yes! Yes! Yes!
exulted Nikki silently. This was music to her ears. The worm was turning at long long last. Her patience was paying off.

‘You’d be well within your rights to. It might make her realize just how lucky she is that you’re decent,’ comforted Nikki, stroking his cheek.

‘Well, we’ll see,’ Mark said wearily. ‘I’m going to give her a good talking to in any case.’

‘You do what you think is best, Mark. Maybe it would be good to clear the air.’ She didn’t want to jump in and say that a good talk was a terrific idea. She didn’t want to sound too gung ho about it so she kept her tone light and casual, but the idea of Mark giving that lazy, selfish slob an ear-bashing was orgasmic. Maybe if they were at each other’s throats the idea of divorcing his precious Francesca might be more appealing, although she didn’t seem at all precious to him at the moment, Nikki thought smugly as she nibbled his ear.

‘Darling, it’s been a long week and you’ve had a lot on your mind. Why don’t we go to bed and I’ll light some scented candles and play some soft music and I’ll give you a nice relaxing massage?’ Nikki offered.

‘I think it’s just what I need, darling. The muscles in the back of my neck are giving me hell,’ Mark complained.

‘I’ll look after them,’ Nikki soothed.

‘You’re very good at looking after me,’ he said gratefully, drawing her close.

‘That’s because I love you,’ Nikki replied firmly.

‘And I love you too,’ Mark murmured, resting his head on her shoulder.

Nikki stroked his forehead. ‘You shouldn’t let it get to you so much,’ she murmured.

‘I know.’

‘Maybe you should disengage a bit and let Francesca get on with it.’

‘Maybe you’re right,’ Mark agreed.

‘Come on,’ she ordered. ‘Let’s forget it for now.’ She didn’t want to overplay her hand. Arm in arm they went into the bedroom and she undid his shirt buttons and unbuckled his belt. ‘Into bed with you now and I’ll get the oils and light the candles,’ she instructed. She undressed and slipped into a silk dressing gown and quietly lit the candles and put a CD on the player as Mark lay face down in the middle of the bed, his face resting on his forearms.

When she was ready, she knelt astride him and poured some oil into her palms. Slowly she began to massage his tense muscles and gradually he began to relax under her light touch. Although her movements were slow and rhythmic her mind was racing. She was exuberant. The cracks were getting wider and wider in the Kirwan relationship and that suited her just fine. Never before had Mark shown such naked hostility towards his estranged wife.

Madame Francesca might soon be getting her comeuppance and it wasn’t before time. Nikki smiled as she massaged a particularly tense spot, causing Mark to sigh with pleasure.

Francesca sat at the departure gate in Faro Airport waiting for their flight to be called. Millie was doing some last-minute shopping in the chocolate shop, to use up her escudos. She’d invited Francesca to spend the night with them so that she wouldn’t be on her own the first night home. Francesca had been tempted. It had been great having Millie’s company
for
the week and she was dreading the thought of opening the front door to an empty house. But it had to be faced and the sooner she got it over and done with the better. Besides, she needed to get her clothes sorted for work the following week.

Other books

The Richard Burton Diaries by Richard Burton, Chris Williams
Providence by Anita Brookner
Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas by James Patterson
My Blood To Rise by Paula Paradis
Crawl by Edward Lorn
Zeitgeist by Bruce Sterling