The Gravity of Love
Page 26
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
‘Maybe we should stick around here for a couple of days,’ Lewis said. ‘Find a little B&B. Surely we’ll discover someone who knew your mother?’
We? Was Lewis suggesting they stay together? But what about Marnie? And what would happen if they shared a room tonight? Would they make love again? She felt undone as it was.
‘Lewis, you can’t stay,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You have to find Marnie.’
‘But I can’t desert you now. We need to find out more about your mother.’
‘You’ve come all this way to find Marnie,’ Joy said, arguing against her true desire. ‘What about the postcards?’
They looked at each other. She had never thought it possible that you could search so deeply for answers in someone else’s eyes and still find them unfathomable.
‘I don’t want to leave you,’ he finally said in a small voice.
Back in Ballycastle they found a B&B on the outskirts of town. It was run by a Mrs McIntyre, who seemed to be constantly distracted by her flock of five fair-haired children. There was only one double bedroom available. They booked in as Mr & Mrs Bell. After all they were both still wearing their wedding rings. There was no one here who knew them to notice. They could be husband and wife.
Joy Bell.
It sounded like the name of a flower, not a person – a joybell. What colour was a joybell? Yellow? Pink? Purple? No – red, the brightest shade a hummingbird could seek.
Joyce Bell had more substance. Joyce. She whispered the name to herself. Somehow a Joyce seemed like a whole different person from a Joy. More important, the two additional letters at the end grounding the lightness of Joy, the simplicity of her childish name.
After they’d put their luggage in the room, they walked back into town to get some food in Polkes pub. Lewis suggested they talk to the younger craggy man they had seen at the bar earlier. After all, his mother had worked for the Martells. Maybe she knew where Aoife Martell was now.
‘I’ll go change this five-pound note into coins and call Heather first,’ Joy said as they passed the phone box. ‘I want to check she’s okay.’
Lewis brushed her hand with his. ‘I’ll see you in the back of Polkes.’
She felt a flutter in her stomach as she watched him walk away. What would happen tonight? If she spent the whole night in Lewis’s arms in a double bed, she knew there would be no going back to her old life with Eddie.
The bell on the shop door tinkled as she walked inside. The shop was empty apart from an old man sitting behind the counter, smoking a pipe and wearing what looked like a hand-knitted fisherman’s sweater.
‘Good evening to you,’ he said.
‘Hello,’ she replied, trying to keep her accent as soft as possible.
She wandered around the shop. It reminded her of the old stores in Scottsdale that she used to go into as a child. The sparse choice of groceries on the shelves, mixed up with a random selection of household goods, a sagging chair in the corner with a big black cat asleep on it, and some dusty books on a table in the back. She took a look at them. To her surprise most were books of poetry. She had never read much poetry, although she remembered that her father liked Wordsworth. She picked up a slim volume by the English poet William Blake. The pages fell open and she read:
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sun rise.
William Blake’s joy of course was a state of being, but she couldn’t help thinking of herself as being the joy in the poem. She considered the state of her heart. What she had thought was the right thing, to be bound to the one you love, was not the only way.
She heard the shop doorbell ring again as someone else entered. She was hopeful that it was Lewis who had followed her. She wanted to show him the book.
‘Joy!’
She froze in shock. For standing on the shop threshold was not Lewis but Eddie. He looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d left him. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. He strode the length of the shop and – much to the interest of the old man at the counter – encased her in his arms.
‘Oh, Joy! I found you, thank God I found you . . .’
He drew her to him, but she couldn’t speak. She was motionless in his arms. Her heart, only a moment ago so pulsing with heat, with life, withdrew.
At last he released her, and they stood staring at each other. All she could think about was Lewis. What would Eddie say when he found out she was with Lewis?
Finally she managed to speak. ‘How did you find me?’
Eddie grinned. Despite his tiredness, she could see his unrelenting charm beginning to shine. ‘Your mom,’ he said.
‘But I never told my mom where I went,’ Joy said, frowning.
‘Heather and I worked out from the note you left that you’d gone to find your birth mother in Ireland, so I went over to see your mom and asked for her help to find you.’
Joy held the Blake book limply in her hand. She had found her birth certificate in her father’s box in the garage, but she had not fully accepted that her mom had known where she was from and chosen not to reveal that information, even when she’d asked. Yet now she had freely told Eddie. She felt another layer of betrayal between her mother and herself.
‘So as soon as she told me Ballycastle in County Mayo,’ Eddie went on, ‘I booked a flight to Ireland, got into Dublin today, rented a car and here I am . . .’
Despite the charm, her husband looked different. Meeker, less sure of himself. She could see that his hand was shaking as he swept his fair hair off his brow.
‘Joy, I’m so sorry –’ he started.
‘Not here,’ she said quickly, taking the book up to the counter and paying.
Out on the street she steered Eddie away from Polkes – and Lewis. They walked up a small hill to the other side of the town.
‘Let’s go in here,’ she said, slipping into the dark, cool interior of a stone pub called Heany’s. Thankfully it was empty. It was early yet. She sat in the corner, while she let Eddie buy her a glass of whisky.
‘Thank God I found you!’ he said again as he sat down next to her.
It felt so wrong. She had been joined to this man for most of her life, yet now she was uncomfortable to be brushing legs with him.
Eddie picked up her hands. His fingers were dry and cold, and she felt caught in his grip.
‘Joy, I am so sorry.’ He looked at her with pleading eyes. ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I am begging you to try.’
Erin. She saw it again, that moment of passion between her husband and that woman. She pulled her hands away from his. Yet surprisingly she was no longer angry.
‘I know it’s no excuse, but she came on to me, and . . .’ Eddie sighed, pushing his hands through his hair again. ‘I’ve been so stressed trying to make as much money as possible for the wedding, and our sex life hasn’t been great. I was frustrated . . . and . . . well, we’ve been together so long.’
‘But that’s no excuse to cheat on me,’ she said. ‘You could have told me how you felt. We could have done something about it.’
‘Joy, when we married we were kids. I just sort of panicked imagining that I would never know another woman, you know, intimately . . .’
She shook her head. ‘Eddie, we’re married. Don’t you believe in our vows?’
Even as she said the words she realised what a hypocrite she was. She hadn’t thought once about her wedding vows since she’d made love with Lewis, but then hadn’t Eddie done this to her first?
‘I know. I’m sorry, Joy, but losing you these past couple of days has woken me up.’
He paused, and she studied her husband’s face. She knew it so well, and yet he looked like a different man. She never would have believed he could betray her like he had with Erin, and she realised she didn’t really know him at all.
Eddie picked up her hands again.
‘Joy, I can’t live without you. It’s always been you. It will always be you,’ he said. ‘We belong together.’
She had been so sure. Just a few weeks ago she would have sworn that she and Eddie were the loves of each other’s lives. One of those rare couples that were almost a force of nature. She had believed all this before she’d met Lewis. Maybe her attraction to Lewis was a symptom of her marital breakdown, all part of bringing her back to Eddie ultimately?
‘I don’t know,’ she said, her voice wavering.
‘Baby, please come home,’ Eddie begged. ‘I’ll do anything if you’ll forgive me. I’ll take a big vacation and we’ll go to Hawaii –’
‘I need to find my birth mother, Eddie.’
‘Darling,’ Eddie said, enfolding her hands within his. ‘Don’t you think it’s better to come back home to Scottsdale? That’s where your real mom is. This expedition of yours is breaking her heart.’
Joy brought her hand to his mouth and placed her fingers upon his lips to silence him. ‘Stop it,’ she whispered.
Why did Eddie suddenly seem to care so much about her mom? The two of them had never got on.
He kissed her fingers and she removed her hand quickly.
‘But that’s where your real family is, darling, not in this depressing town in the middle of nowhere,’ he said, ‘where it rains all the time. Hasn’t stopped since I got here. You are sunshine, Joy. That’s where you belong.’
‘But I’m beginning to remember things, Eddie. It’s important . . .’
‘What’s more important is that I can’t live without you, and Heather really needs you.’
She felt a pinch of anxiety at the mention of her daughter. ‘What’s up with Heather?’
‘She’s called off the wedding, says she’s heading off to San Francisco with that crazy friend of hers, Carla. You have to talk some sense into her.’
‘She doesn’t love Darrell.’
‘Those kids are mad about each other,’ Eddie said, frowning. ‘Besides I’ve spent a fortune on the wedding.’
‘They’re not in love, Eddie. Not like we were. And, really, don’t you think it might be a good thing if we aren’t connected to –’
She could not say Erin’s name. It was toxic in her throat. ‘To her – you know, Darrell’s mom.’
The blood rushed to Eddie’s face. She believed it was the only time she had ever seen her cool cowboy husband blush.
‘Yes,’ he muttered, looking down at the table. ‘I guess that would be a good thing. I just don’t know what’s got into Heather.’
‘She’s grown up, Eddie. She’s being true to herself.’
Her husband nodded, pensive. She saw him really listening to her.
‘I guess you’re right.’ He looked up and gave her a pleading smile. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Joy. I’ve taken you for granted for too long, but I’m going to make it up to you, baby. I promise. I never want to lose you again.’
His words washed over her. This was what she had wanted to hear her husband say to her for years.
‘It’s okay,’ she said quietly.
‘You’ll forgive me?’ he asked, his face hopeful.
‘Just get me another glass of whisky.’
He got up and planted a wet kiss on her cheek before going up to order at the bar. She watched him chat to the barman before striding out the back door to the restroom. His confidence had clearly returned, but she was still in complete shock. She had to get up and go. Lewis must be wondering where she was by now. She’d been sitting with Eddie for over thirty minutes, yet she was stuck to the seat, waves of anger at Eddie sweeping through her.
Just as Joy was about to get up and leave while Eddie was in the restroom, the door of the pub opened and in walked Lewis himself. She bit her lip at the sight of him. She tasted blood, fear, yet a rush of desire too.
How appealing Lewis looked to her in that moment. His hair was dripping with rain, as if speckled with tiny diamonds, and his dark eyes looked as deep as those black bogs they had driven through today.
‘Hey, there you are!’ he said. ‘I’ve been looking for you all over town. What are you doing in here?’
‘Lewis . . . I . . .’
Behind him she saw Eddie coming out of the restroom. She began to panic.
‘Lewis . . . something’s happened . . . I . . .’ She didn’t know how to start, but before she had a chance Eddie was at the table, her glass of whisky in his hand.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked Lewis, his voice hostile, his whole body bristling.
‘This is my husband, Eddie,’ she addressed Lewis in a rush, her eyes trying to reach him with an apology.
She turned to Eddie, unable to look at Lewis’s stunned face any longer.
‘Eddie, this is a friend of mine – Lewis. He’s from Scottsdale.’
Eddie’s eyes narrowed.
‘He and his wife, Samantha, are visiting relatives in the west of Ireland.’ The lie gushed out of her. ‘They gave me a lift here in their rental car.’
‘Where’s your wife now?’ Eddie asked Lewis, suspic-ious.
‘Back at the B&B,’ Joy interrupted. ‘She has bad jet lag, doesn’t she, Lewis?’
Lewis turned to her. He was beginning to regain his composure, though his face was drained of all colour.
‘Yes,’ he said flatly.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Eddie asked him, putting his hand possessively on Joy’s shoulder.
‘No,’ Lewis said, shaking his head. ‘I have to go . . .’
‘Are you leaving?’ Joy asked, trying to sound normal as dread clawed at her heart. Despite everything she didn’t want Lewis to leave her behind. It was insane of her to want this when her husband was sitting right next to her. Eddie had come all the way from Arizona to bring her home.
‘I’m off to Sligo,’ he said.
‘With your wife?’ Eddie interjected.
‘Yes, with the wife,’ Lewis said abruptly. ‘To visit relatives. Tonight.’
‘Well, good to meet you. Maybe we can all get together when we’re back home in Scottsdale?’ Eddie suggested, as if blissfully unaware.
‘Yes,’ Lewis said faintly, still looking Joy directly in the eye.
Eddie took out a packet of cigarettes and slipped one between his lips. He hunted around for a lighter.
‘Do you have a light?’ he asked Lewis.
‘No, sorry.’
‘Back in a minute.’ Eddie got up and went to the bar.
‘Are you okay, Joy?’ Lewis whispered to her.
She nodded, blinking back the emotion. Was this her farewell to Lewis? ‘Fine, yes. Good. Thanks.’
Lewis took a quick glance at Eddie, now chatting to the barman as he flicked out a lighter for him. She could see Lewis was struggling. He didn’t want to compromise her, yet it was clear he was concerned.
‘You’re sure you’re okay?’ he whispered again.
‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘Really, it’s for the best. You have to go and find Marnie. You can’t just leave that hanging –’
She was interrupted by Eddie’s presence at the table again.
‘Well, goodbye,’ Lewis said, holding out his hand to her.
‘Goodbye, and thank you,’ she murmured, fighting back the tears.
She took his hand in hers, felt the sensation of his bare skin upon hers. Never again would she touch this man.
Another moment and he was gone. She was back to where she had always been. Mrs Joy Sheldon. Wife and mother. Nobody’s lover.
She thought perhaps it was for the best. For even if Eddie hadn’t showed up, and maybe, just maybe, she and Lewis could have made a go of it, it would never have worked. Marnie would always have been a haunting presence between them.
London, 14 April 1967, 10.31 a.m.
M
arnie was gone. He had driven her away. Lewis sat on a damp bench outside the hospital waiting for his mother to arrive. A bird was singing to him from one of the plane trees. He looked up, but the branches of the tree were hidden by spring foliage. He twisted round on the bench, trying to see where the bird could be, but it was like a phantom, invisible to his eye. He gave up, looking down at his clasped hands in his lap, the white of his knuckles. He listened to the bird’s song. He imagined it was speaking to him in its high-pitched whistling talk.
I want you with me.
Such an incessant chirp, the bird calling to him again and again.
With me, with me, with me.
He remembered his Aunt Celia telling him when he was a boy that birds always appeared when someone in the family died. A row of jeering magpies on the garden wall the very morning her beloved husband, Ralph, had passed away; a goose that had lost its flock flying above her house when her sister had died two years before; a bright-eyed robin looking in the window when she’d lost her darling nephew Philip – Lewis’s father – during the war. He wondered if this was Lizzie’s bird. He recognised the call of course. It was a blackbird.
Uncle Howard had taught him all of the native bird calls in Berkshire. Lewis still remembered those dawn-chorus mornings, Uncle Howard shaking him awake while it was still dark, struggling to pull on his trousers quietly so that he wouldn’t wake Lizzie. He would tiptoe past her as she slept. She had always lain motionless in her bed, like a dead person, and he’d often wondered if she was actually awake and just holding her breath, fooling him. Had his sister watched him in the half-light, tumbling out of his pyjamas and getting dressed? Sniggering to herself at his clumsy adolescent limbs, his gangly height and moonlit buttocks. Or had she watched in silent jealousy? He’d had an understanding with Uncle Howard that Lizzie never had.
He remembered lying in the long grass by the river, birdwatching. No Alfie the red setter, and no Lizzie, because both of them would have disturbed the birds. Just Howard and him, man and boy, down by the river, a pair of binoculars in his hands, peering at the birds careering through the first burst of daylight. This had been nature in its prime. Not the sleepy image that city folk have of the country, but how intense it really was – the helter-skelter of flying birds shooting through the air, missing collisions with expert precision.