by Faith Hogan
‘Goodbye, Nancy,’ she said and then she turned before they saw her tears.
That day, she walked for miles; heedless of the concerned looks of people she passed by. Her face, when she got home, looked as though she’d taken four rounds with Cassius Clay. Its tenderness almost bruised through from crying – Tess had rubbed it viciously to dry the salty tears away, but it did no good because they just kept streaming down her cheeks.
It was funny, but she’d never thought that far ahead. A baby, but now, it consumed her – the idea that someone could cement two people even more. The emptiness did not go away, if anything it dug into an even larger gulf within her, so everywhere she went and everything she touched seemed laden with a gloom that was all her own. In the end, she hardly noticed, it was only when she caught sight of her reflection without warning, unrecognisable and jaded compared to her old vivacious self, that it would strike her once more that she had somehow jettisoned her life on a whim for Douglas Buckley.
Did she love him then?
As the months went on, after that day in Stephen’s Green, she really wasn’t sure. What would have happened if things had turned out differently? Could she have been happy as Mrs Douglas Buckley? Living in Ballycove, looking out over the Irish Sea for the rest of her days?
Soon, that thought began to haunt her too – she knew it was a way of putting aside the other demons that threatened to overtake her and throw her body and soul into frightening depths.
Then, one sunny May Tuesday morning she woke – the early rays skipping across her eiderdown from the streets above. She somehow felt lighter, as though there was the promise of something better ahead today. Perhaps, she thought, she’d visit her mother? Or just walk along the beach at Ballycove?
She pulled herself from the bed, with slightly less force than she had to employ most other mornings. Applied a tint of blush to her cheeks and brushed her hair back so it sat a little higher on her head. She drank a cup of tea and left the cup deliberately on the drainer, perhaps to remind herself that she would have to return to wash it at the very least.
She walked to the bus stop – if not light of step, but certainly with a surprising sense of expectation, as though she might deserve to hope, just a little more than she had in quite a while.
Today was going to be a very special day. She could feel it in her bones. As though she was coming home, but not so much to Ballycove, rather, in some feverish way, it felt as if she was coming home to a girl she used to know.
Chapter 39
February 14 – Saturday
For the days after the concert, Tess woke up lighter than she had in years. True, it felt as though she had dreamed a million dreams, but in daylight, she sifted through them and realised that all the good ones had been real.
Funny, but now, even if she tried, she couldn’t see the grizzly doctor that she’d known for the last few weeks. He had, in a moment, transformed into Stephen, and with it, she knew something fundamental in their relationship had softened. Perhaps she had softened too, because some of the memories that had once stirred her so deeply were letting go their grip. It was as though a lifetime of regret and bitterness was slowly ebbing away from her. So gradual she hadn’t noticed it at first, but now, the tide so far receded that it made her feel as if she’d come much further than she’d ever have dreamed possible. So, why didn’t she feel as if everything was as it should be? After all, things were a million times improved on what they were only a month earlier.
*
‘You have more to do,’ Amanda murmured as they walked around the square together that evening.
‘I think I’ve done very well,’ Tess was defensive. She had lost almost a stone in weight. Even more importantly, because she was exercising and taking better care of herself, she’d transformed in a way that couldn’t be measured in inches or pounds but was much more profound. Most astonishingly, for the first time in fifty years, she felt good about herself. Undoubtedly, there was a long road ahead if she wanted to be fashion-model slim, but at sixty-six years of age, all Tess had ever wanted was to even out her blood pressure and reduce her risk of diabetes.
‘We both know I’m not talking about your weight. Yes, you’ve done splendidly to achieve your weight loss, even better because the changes you’ve made are ones you can stick with for life, but there’s something else?’
‘I’m sure I’m just tired.’
‘Tess, it’s up to you. As you’ve said, you’ve done well already, but I have a feeling you know, you’d be crazy not to want more for yourself.’ Amanda’s eyes were dark and penetrating. Although she spoke softly, it seemed to Tess her words had the brutality of righteousness. ‘You have bridges to build and only you can build them.’
*
Later the words were still lingering in her mind. Tess tried to ignore them, but everywhere she looked there were reminders. Amanda and Robyn coming to the concert, that in itself, while she was thrilled they were making the effort – well, it had just underlined the absence of any family. Family? She’d thought about that word so often over the last few months. What did it mean anyway? She’d had a family. Nancy had been even more than a sister – had they somehow betrayed each other? It was all so long ago.
Everything was so very different now. Stephen Kilker was unrecognisable from the stringy youth who’d encouraged her to sing the blues. Nancy would be changed too, she’d lost Douglas, lived a life so different to Tess. And their child? What had become of him? Tess hadn’t thought about that baby for many years. It was only in these last few months that she could begin to entertain thoughts of that terrible day.
‘You look as if you’re a million miles away,’ Amanda said softly. She dropped by every day for a coffee and a chat. It seemed as if they had established a routine. These days, after Amanda left the kids to school, she’d come back and help out in the communal garden. Then, she’d pop across to the flat for a natter before going out to brave the cold again with the spunky-looking Italian, who it seemed, to Tess at least, had a bit of a crush on her.
‘No, just about forty years away,’ Tess smiled and shook her head. It was silly to become so wrapped up in the past when the future was turning bright and beckoning.
‘Well, maybe you have things to sort out?’ Amanda said as though she could read her mind.
‘It seems that way, doesn’t it?’ Tess said and somehow here, with Amanda, the notion of having to face up to the past was not quite as terrible as it was before.
‘Is it a man?’
‘It was, sort of, and a woman and a…’ Tess felt a small tear scud down her cheek.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No. Not your fault. Mostly it’s my own fault. You’re right, of course. Maybe I need to resolve this before I move on.’ Tess placed her hand on Amanda’s arm, glad that her friend had not pressed her for answers.
*
Perhaps it was the week for facing up to things, or maybe, the concert had just given Tess that added brio she needed. She knew it was time to do the right thing. It was time to spring-clean her entire life and, sometimes, it’s easier to clean up dust that’s newly fallen.
The following afternoon, as she sat on a bench, watching Amanda and Carlos working hard, she made a decision. She was sixty-six years old, retirement age. It was time to start living and stop drudging her way through life. That night, she wrote her letter of resignation to the temping agency. They’d hardly notice if she left anyway, there was always a steady stream of girls just waiting to get a foot in the Dublin door. Office temping was the easy way to start earning cash and make some kind of life in the underbelly of this grey city.
Early the following day, she woke, her decision was already made. Taking her time for once, she placed the rollers in her hair as Robyn had for the weekend concert. This could become her thing now, taking care of herself. She had enjoyed the compliments on the day of the concert, noticed it in the other women’s eyes, she was a transformed woman when she took a little care. It was time
to become visible again; Tess felt she was ready to be beautiful once more.
She sat, peacefully with a cup of tea on her little sofa next to Matt. His purr was comforting, steadying her. These days, he seemed to spend more time in her flat than anywhere else, slept cosily on the couch for most of the day and trailed her about the flat when she was here. He had taken to darting in through her kitchen window as soon as Mrs O let him out to tinkle. Poor Mrs O, he really had rejected her, Tess had a feeling that she hardly even noticed and perhaps that made having him here blameless.
She arrived at the temping agency with no intention of working one more day. She should give them two weeks’ notice, but she was an old woman and they expected her to be bad-tempered. The girl, an unpronounceable name on her breast, took the letter and smiled, as though it made a difference to Tess either way.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, hardly believing that she’d just resigned. A measure of panic rising within her, but then, in her mind, she heard Stephen’s voice guiding her through her breathing exercises and so she inhaled deeply, taking in the cool Dublin morning. She walked out of the temping agency that day a free woman and only wondered why she hadn’t done it sooner. Across the road, she noticed a small art supplies shop, funny how she’d never spotted it before.
An old-fashioned bell on the front door rattled when she let it close behind her. The man; a youth with dark hair that hid his eyes, turned out to be the most obliging boy. He filled a bag with a large sketchpad, charcoal and acrylics. He tossed in two small canvases for free.
Tess walked home lighter of step than she’d felt for many years. She reasoned, if she could sing in front of a hundred people, there was no reason why Amanda shouldn’t paint again.
*
‘He’s a child.’ Amanda laughed at the very idea of Carlos Giordano fancying her.
‘Thirty years old is hardly a child,’ Tess said. They were sitting in the Square, drinking steaming instant cappuccinos that Tess had brought across for them. It was time for Amanda to take a break, and Tess had brought along a lovely gift of artists supplies to mark a new start for them both.
‘It is when you’re forty-five years old, Tess.’ Amanda had lost the thread of what she was saying. Of course, it was Carlos. They had been working every day together for the last week and this afternoon he invited her out for a drink.
‘I’ve never been to a salsa club, though I did love jazz, back in the day,’ Tess said and it sounded like nostalgia on her lips. She looked at Amanda now, ‘He’s not asking you to marry him. Where’s the harm in going out dancing with the bloke? You might really enjoy it.’ Tess winked at her. ‘And if a chance should present itself to kiss him or,’ she lowered her voice, ‘something more, well, you could see it as a perk for all that gardening you’ve done free of charge.’
‘He might not want me to do any more gardening now,’ Amanda said.
‘What exactly did you say when he asked you?’ Tess asked.
‘Nothing, I just laughed. I thought he was joking, I really never imagined…’ They had been talking about her separation. She assumed he’d just felt sorry for her, but then, when she laughed, she’d caught something else. Probably not desire, she wasn’t silly enough to think that, but she could have hurt his feelings.
‘You’ve been lusting after him for weeks. Did you not think that maybe the feeling is mutual?’ Tess asked.
‘Come on, Tess, you’ve seen him. The body of a god, face of an angel – men like that don’t fall for middle-aged frumpy women.’ She knew she was nowhere near as frumpy as she’d been a year ago. Robyn had dragged her into what seemed like every high street shop in Dublin one weekend and now she had a whole new wardrobe of clothes that fitted her and made her feel like she had shed her middle-class, neurotic, vanilla dullness.
‘So, he’s a man now, not a boy anymore?’ Tess teased. ‘Well, I’ll tell you this for nothing, if he so much as winked at me, I’d have my best linen on the bed and I’d be inviting him in for a stiff one before we got down to business,’ Tess said and Amanda struggled to keep her laughter under control. ‘You’ll march across that garden tomorrow and tell him you’d love to go to a salsa bar with him, and anywhere else that might be on the cards, or I’ll be looking at you as if you lost the run of yourself. What are you waiting for – Richard King to ride across the square on a white charger?’
Chapter 40
February 17 – Tuesday
It took the whole morning before Amanda managed to pick up the courage to broach the subject with Carlos.
‘Carlos, remember you asked me to a salsa bar?’
‘Yes,’ he hardly looked at her and she had a feeling that maybe she had embarrassed him with her reaction, which was not what she would have expected or wanted.
‘Well, you sort of caught me off guard and I’m not sure that I gave you the answer that I should have.’
‘So, you want me to invite you again?’ he looked up from the row of plants before him.
‘Yes, or maybe I could ask you?’ She was feeling more courageous now as she looked into those delicious brown eyes. ‘Not that I would have a clue where to find a salsa bar, or even…’ she smiled now, hoped he’d find it endearing, even more that he’d see she hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings.
‘I think I could sort that piece out. Mrs King, I would love to go on a date to a salsa bar with you. Would I be free on Friday night? Yes, as it happens I would, and it also just so happens that I was going along anyway, so that’s handy.’ He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, ‘Pick you up around eight?’
‘I don’t mind driving, I could meet you there.’
‘No, it’s fine. Getting you there is the least I can do, now you’ve invited me out for the night.’ He shook his head and she wondered again, between all the banter, if he had asked her on a date or if it was just a casual drink because soon this job would be finished and he would be moving on to the next commission.
*
‘So, he’s a landscaper?’ Casper asked on the Thursday and Amanda felt like he was considering whether to give his permission to meet Carlos or not.
‘We’re just going for a drink, Casper, I’m hardly running off with him,’ she laughed a little nervously.
‘No, of course not, I know that.’ Casper said, but he dropped into a stool all the same, his tea steaming from the mug in his hand. ‘It’s just that you’re my mum and…’
‘Exactly, I’m your mum, you’re not my dad!’ She smiled at him and sat next to him. ‘Really, it’s just dinner. I think he feels he owes me for helping out in the square.’
‘Right,’ Casper didn’t sound convinced. ‘And if it was something more…’
‘It’s early days, Casper and I really don’t think I…’
‘I know, I know.’ He studied the mug before him intently for a while. ‘It’s just that, I know I’ve been a bit of a nightmare these last few years, but all of this,’ he looked around the kitchen, as though something had fundamentally changed. ‘I mean, Dad leaving and everything, well, I feel like it’s time I grew up a bit, took a bit of responsibility as the man of the house,’ he blushed a little.
‘Casper, there’s no need to feel like that.’
‘But there is, I’ve been horrible to you and you didn’t deserve it, if anyone deserved it, I think it was Dad, but…’
‘No, you can’t talk like that about your father, Casper, he’s being the best man he knows how to be and that’s all any of us can do.’ Amanda said quietly.
‘Well, maybe, but…’ he looked at her now, held her eyes for longer than she’d remembered him doing for years, ‘I just wanted you to know that I intend to be a better son from now on.’ He started to get up off his seat, take his mug with him, ‘and, by the way, I think I’ve decided on what I’d like to study in college,’ he nodded up towards the forms that had been sitting for weeks in a neglected cubbyhole above the fridge.
‘Oh, really?’ Aman
da didn’t mind what he did, but of course, his father had aspirations for him in the banking sector.
‘Yes, I’m applying for the National College of Art and Design,’ he smiled at her and for the first time in a very long time, she could feel he was coming back to her in some indescribable way.
‘You don’t have to worry about me, you know that, don’t you?’ Amanda said to him gently. ‘All of this, with your Dad, it’s fine, you know.’
‘I know that,’ his smile reached all the way into his eyes, ‘we’re better than fine, I think, with all my friends being able to come and go and Tess popping in and out, this place has never felt more like home.’
‘But you wouldn’t fancy a strapping Italian hanging about?’ she laughed at him, then, biting her lip, she added happily, ‘not that I think that you have much to worry about on that score.’
‘Well, that would depend on how nice the Italian was to you, wouldn’t it?’ He put his arm about her shoulder, just for a moment and squeezed her gently and Amanda thought she might melt with happiness.
*
By Friday, Amanda had almost made herself nauseous trying to second-guess if this was an actual date or if it was just a casual drink among work colleagues.
Carlos arrived bang on time and he looked even dreamier in his white shirt and black jeans. She realised it was the first time she’d seen him clean-shaven. His skin seemed so soft she wanted to reach out her hand to caress it as you would an exotic fabric that was enticingly touchable. She managed to resist, but tingled warmly when he leant in to kiss her cheek. Robyn had selected a simple pair of black leggings for her and a pussy bow blouse that, teamed with her highest heels, made Amanda feel sexy but at the same time demure. She shelved her pearls and opted for drop earrings and Casper’s large watch on her wrist. Her leopard-print clutch and a spritz of perfume finished off the outfit.