Isabel's Healing

by Maggie McIntyre

  Isabel nodded, and remembered she did indeed have an old black swimsuit tucked in the corner of her suitcase. Claire had thought to get her one in case hydrotherapy ever became an option, but it was still unused.

  Bryony returned with a pair of rolled up towels and tossed them on the back seat.

  “I brought one too. That was lucky. Let’s go!”

  It was a golden day, one of those days you remember for years. Their drive over the mountains and round the coast of the Llyn peninsula was a joy and they were early enough to secure parking as close to Abersoch main beach as possible, even though the little resort was packed with tourists making the most of the sun, and all the sailboat enthusiasts were crowding out the marina.

  Isabel looked a different woman from the miserable bundle of humanity she had been six weeks before. Her whole way of being was transformed. Her default expression was one of happy pleasure, and her frown lines seem to have vanished. She looked ten years younger, and she was now walking without her crutches.

  She kept her arm linked in Bryony’s for much of the time as they walked around, but Bryony hoped it was as she assumed, that Isabel simply liked being close to her, rather than using her as a human walking stick. Isabel had also put on the much needed ten pounds, and no longer resembled a bag of bones.

  “We used to come here when I was a child, from Chester,” she said. “It has always been a popular seaside resort with the English.”

  “It still looks very traditional. I want to make a sandcastle and buy some of those little paper flags to put on it.”

  “If that’s what you want to do, darling, it’s your birthday! But I’ve booked us in for a spa treatment at 2 pm as a treat, so let’s go down on the sands now, and get on with playing at construction workers.”

  Bryony chose a little plastic bucket and spade and a packet of flags from the nearest booth, and they made camp on the beach. With her legendary ability to focus, she concentrated on recreating a sand castle, which looked set to rival Caernarvon.

  Isabel sat in a deck chair and looked at her very fondly. Then she noticed a very alarming thing. Bryony was sitting by her finished sandcastle with tears streaming down her face, and her shoulders shaking.

  “My love, what’s the matter?” Isabel managed to heave up out of the deck chair and sat beside her on the sand. She wrapped her arms around her, and rocked her, while Bryony very painfully, between sobs, told her about the aborted seaside trip on her eighth birthday, and how instead she had had the horrible experience of watching her mother being carried from her bedroom away by ambulance out of their little terraced house, never to be seen again.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t do crying. I’m not sure why it has just come flooding out. I’m ashamed. But no-one, no-one talked to me about it when I was a child and we never went to the sea-side again.”

  Isabel just rocked her, and passed her a tissue. “You’ve been so brave. You’re so much more stoical than I am. It’s good it’s come up of its own accord. It needed to. You must miss your mother very much.”

  Bryony nodded and blew her nose. “I do, but I only have a few photographs, and her face is so hazy in my memory now. I worry it will fade completely.”

  “No it won’t. You may forget the exact way she looked, but her love for you, and yours for her, you’ll remember forever.”

  “Can we go for a swim now? Will you come in with me?”

  Isabel smiled. Bryony’s quick change of mood was almost like Carrie’s, though their characters were so different. She looked around and saw a very comfortable family camped on the beach a little way away, and decided to ask them to guard their keys and possessions while they swam.

  Having wriggled into their swimsuits under cover of towels and clothes, like a postcard cartoon from the 1950s, they then walked down to the water and bravely marched straight into the waves. Isabel’s breath caught with the shock. It was a hot day, but still August in Wales and the Irish Sea was not the Mediterranean. She had swum in many of the world’s oceans but usually only south of the Tropic of Capricorn.

  Bryony grabbed her hand and took her lovely mistress forward with her, so her shoulders were soon under the water. It was just what she needed too, to jolt her out of the embarrassing fit of weeping.

  She didn’t really understand what had happened, but it made her somehow feel much better than she had before, healed somehow. It had maybe taken sixteen years, but Isabel had organized it so she could now have her birthday at the seaside and she was determined to enjoy it.

  They were both strong swimmers, and Isabel could feel her arm and leg muscles working as they should. It felt wonderful.

  Afterwards they lay on their towels, drying off and enjoying the sunshine on their faces.

  “I should get out the sun-cream,” said Bryony.

  “Oh, pooh. Just relax nursie. Think of all this lovely Vitamin D we’re getting.”

  Bryony reached over and pulled Isabel’s sun hat across her face.

  “I love you too much to get your face burned.”

  “Hmm.” Isabel tried to not think about the word ‘love’ too much. For four letters it was a huge word, and she doubted Bryony had yet had a chance fully to explore what it meant. It was so easy to say when you were twenty-four, much harder when you were forty-two. If Isabel was to use it back to her, and truly prove she meant it, it would be like jumping off one of those enormous cliffs in New Zealand at the end of a bungee jump rope.

  Oh, she knew she did love Bryony, more than was rational, and certainly much more than Jane Walkley had imagined, but where could it go? She would just have to steer them both in another direction, and live with the consequences. Her poor battered heart could just suffer the emotion alone.

  “Picnic time!” she shouted, when these thoughts became too intense, and then pulled across the basket. Bryony remembered the Wind in the Willows story, and felt like Mole excitedly unpacking the picnic he and Ratty had prepared. She pulled out two plastic plates and several small boxes, and then noticed a cardboard box in the middle, tied up with a little length of string.

  “What’s this?”

  “Happy birthday, darling.”

  Isabel handed her the box and watched as she untied the string and tore open the seal. It was the latest model of an Apple I-Phone, as powerful as a large computer, and as sleek and wonderful as she could imagine. What a luxury!

  Her own phone was so old, she’d had it since her eighteenth birthday when she had treated herself to one, and then it had been reconditioned and sold in the second hand IT store. Isabel had somehow managed to charge this new one up as well, so it was ready to go, and also with a beautiful blue cover.

  “Thank you Isabel! Thank you, thank you, thank you! It’s wonderful!”

  “Oh, the youth of today! How easily they are beguiled by gadgets!”

  “Absolutely!” Bryony reached across and kissed Isabel on the mouth.

  “Don’t you want one? This is more powerful than yours.”

  “No, sweetie. I don’t need to play candy crush or watch films all the time. You just enjoy it, and don’t lose it!”

  “Let’s eat.”

  They enjoyed their picnic, and then Isabel directed Bryony to the local Spa where she had booked two sessions online. They enjoyed a wonderful two hours, and Bryony for once, could for once experience a massage herself, instead of always being the one to give them.

  As the sun was moving west over the country hills behind Abersoch, they turned the old car for home, and drove together in perfect harmony, back towards the cottage.

  The sea air had predictably given them a very pleasant feeling of exhaustion and relaxation. Bryony had intended to end her birthday with a spectacular display of dramatic creativity, involving the little uniform and school tie, but when the evening turned to night, she was actually too tired to do anything other than roll into bed next to Isabel and let herself be held and gently cuddled as she fell asleep. Life didn’t always have to be sexual fireworks after all. Her
appreciation of Isabel’s curves was just as genuine when they were motionless, spooned against her, and warming her from hip to shoulder.

  Chapter 25

  The day out in Abersoch did somehow mark the beginning of the end of their idyllic summer at Ty Bach. The book, the all-important book, took Isabel’s whole attention for up to six hours a day from then on, and Bryony faithfully tagged along behind her, furiously typing to her dictation on the student lap-top which had served her right through university. When they finally came to the end of the main chapters, she felt as though she’d run a marathon in flip-flops.

  “I think it’s a miracle we’ve managed this. I really could have done with a large screen editing desktop computer. I’ll copy everything onto a data stick for you and then you can take it back to London to do the proper editing.”

  Isabel looked at her wearily rubbing her eyes, and felt very guilty.

  “You’re right. No-one else would have coped with what I’ve put you through. I’ve been so stupid. I wouldn’t have let my staff at work ruin their eyes writing a whole book on a lap-top.”

  “No harm done. I have strong eyesight. It’s been fantastic, actually. I’ve learned so much, just from typing up what you’ve said. I’ve travelled the world, places I never thought I’d see, like where we are now in this end chapter, Fiji!”

  “Yes, it’s ironic. I’ve been a gypsy and my own carbon footprint must be enormous, the amount of flights I’ve had to take.”

  Bryony counted the days they had left together, they were frighteningly few. She decided they had to have a conversation about the future if she was to have any peace. She dreaded what Isabel would say, dreaded even more that she wouldn’t say anything.

  “Izzy,”

  “Oh, dear, what does that mean?”

  “I just like it. I don’t see why your friend Jane should commandeer it. Anyway, we need to talk, so I know what to expect. What are your plans for the autumn? Will you return to London? Is there any chance I can see you there?”

  Her lovely green eyes were troubled and Isabel could tell she was very nervous. The poor kid was braver than she was, as she hadn’t been even up to starting the conversation.

  “I...I do know what you mean. Bryony dear, what can I say? These weeks, they’ve given me back my life. More than that, they have restored my hope of a future. I can never repay you for everything you’ve done for me. But what that future is, well it’s too early to say. Ted and Claire want me to go back to Chester with them; Jane thinks I should live with her in Bristol.”

  “I think you’re already fit enough to look after yourself,” Bryony broke in. “I thought we might go for a drive tomorrow, so you can get behind the wheel and get your confidence back, and then you’ll be good to go. Will you buy another car?”

  “I’m not sure. But, the point is, darling, that whatever I do, you’ve already done enough. You have your own life to lead, and a really busy year ahead. You don’t want me weighing you down.”

  “Weighing me down? Is that what you think? Isabel I worship you. You inspire me and excite me. You could never weigh me down!”

  Bryony was beginning to lose it. She was perilously close to tears and they had only just started this conversation.

  Isabel tried to channel Jane’s thoughts and judgments of her through her own words.

  “Darling, I’m not this wonder-woman you’ve idealized in your mind. Remember how cranky I was when we first met? I can be an absolute bitch, and I used to be notoriously unfaithful. You deserve someone much, much better. You need to have fun as well, take your beautiful self and play the field.”

  “Is that your best advice? Is that what you really want? So you want to say Cheerio and wave me off to sleep with any girl in London, as though none of this matters, as though it hasn’t been important?”

  Isabel looked away from her so she wouldn’t see those exasperating tears which were threatening to come into her own eyes. She was determined to push on with her argument, even though it was actually the direct opposite of what she felt in her heart.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. It’s for the best, for you. I’m your first gay relationship, but I shouldn’t and won’t be your last. I’ve decided what will be best when our time here finishes. I don’t want to go to stay with Ted and Claire, but I can cope with Jane for a few weeks, just while I finish the editing. If you take me to the train in Machynlleth, she can meet me in Bristol. Meanwhile I’ll pay you extra to drive the Berlingo, with all the medical paraphernalia and the wheelchair etc. back to Chester to Ted and Claire’s house. I’ll arrange with them to take you to the London train. So everything will end in an orderly fashion.”

  She had her employer’s voice on, as though by using it she could shut Bryony’s objections down and brook no more argument. Bryony panicked for a moment and then realized that there was a lot more going on inside Isabel’s beautiful head than she was letting on. One lost battle didn’t mean she needed to give up the campaign. She was used to hiding her emotions, and wouldn’t cry like a baby in front of her. Instead she took a deep breath and replied in a similarly objective vein.

  “Well, I see you’ve thought it all through. Maybe you are right. I don’t think you are of course. But I respect your decision. We can end everything in an orderly fashion, as you say.”

  Isabel winced as she heard her own banalities quoted back to her. Bryony stood up.

  “I’m going to go and take a bath, if you don’t mind now. My shoulders ache and I would like a soak.”

  “Fine, of course, dear.”

  Bryony left her, and disappeared into the bathroom. Isabel heard the taps running into the bathtub, and the radio turned onto a cheerful pop channel.

  “Oh, hell,” she thought. “She’s gone in there to cry, but she doesn’t want me to hear her.”

  Which was exactly what Bryony did, for at least the next half hour.

  Lying in the bath-tub until her fingers grew wrinkly gave Bryony time to get over her initial panic, stop the emotional overflow of her deepest feelings and regain her legendary ability to internalize misery and look on the bright side. She and Isabel had five more days together. A lot could happen, and even if Isabel didn’t change her mind and still wanted to finish whatever they had between them, those five days could be joyous or horrible. It was down to Bryony to make sure they were the former.

  When she came out of the bathroom, wrapped up in Isabel’s dressing gown and heading for her own room to find some pajamas, she looked red-eyed from crying, but not furious and not seeming as though she was about to launch them into a blazing row. This was so different from the way Carrie would have reacted that it almost knocked Isabel sideways.

  She had been sitting on the sofa, trying but not succeeding to read a magazine, and she was more nervous than she could admit. Bryony only stayed in her room for a few moments and when she emerged she had put on her pajamas and was drying off her hair. Isabel stood up and stopped her from crossing the kitchen. She drew her into her arms, and Bryony sank into the hug.

  “Don’t cry, sweetie. Don’t cry. I don’t want to make you sad. You’re so precious to me.”

  Bryony caressed her cheek.

  “I know Isabel. I understand. Let’s not spoil our last few days together then. I’m thinking we should instead just make them as wonderful as if they will last forever.”

  “Come to bed.”

  Bryony seemed to hesitate, and Isabel wondered if she had burned her bridges already and their lovely times together were already a thing of the past. But then Bryony smiled and almost drove her through into the bedroom.

  “Those are the nicest words you ever say to me,” she said. “I adore you everywhere Isabel, but I love you in bed more than any other place.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  Isabel also knew the feeling was mutual. Now she adored Bryony, all pink and damp from the bath. She picked up the Aloe Vera gel as she passed the chest, and closed the bedroom door behind them.

 
; “Let me give you a massage this evening. I think you deserve one, and it will be good for my arm muscles.”

  Bryony lay down on her stomach on the bed and gave herself up to Isabel’s hands. As work went, this posting really wasn’t that bad was it? And when they fell asleep together it was as two united women, after all.

  Chapter 26

  The penultimate day of August had come. Isabel had stuck to her guns, and kept insisting that Bryony’s future would be far better without her in it as her lover. She phoned Edward and Claire, working very hard to keep the tremor out of her voice, and arranged for them to take Bryony to the train at Chester station and send her safely back to London. She also gave them some additional instructions, which eased her troubled conscience just a little, and then turned to make another phone call to start negotiations with Jane.

  Her jock friend had been absorbed with the various female sporting events throughout the school holidays, so had not been back on her case too much, but she certainly leapt in when Isabel voiced the thought that she might join her for a few weeks in Bristol. “Great, just like old times! Thank God you’ve come to your senses! I’m glad you’re not still playing about with that girl.”

  “I’ve never been playing, though she is very good at games.”

  “Well, make sure you finish it with her properly. I’m not having you stay with me if we have loads of loose ends hanging around.”

  Isabel flinched. Bryony was anything but a loose end. Cutting the tie with her would be like severing an artery, but she was still convinced it was for Bryony’s best, if not hers.

  “Look Jane, cool it, OK? I will come to you just until the end of September. I think I need to be out of London for some weeks yet, and while you’re in school I can edit my book and be back in touch with the publishers in peace. Once people hear I’m back in circulation, there’ll be no letting up. I probably also need to buy a car.”

  “Are you back behind the wheel?”

  “No, I’ve not driven yet. Bryony is taking me out today.”