by Faith Hogan
‘I’ll get a hat.’
Iris ran upstairs to her room, grabbed a sun hat she kept on the back of the door and stopped for only a moment to pat her hair in place. Her face flushed indecently pink, inside she could feel a swell of butterflies rise within her, but she knew that it was wrong. She could not entertain Robert Hartley, could not make things any worse than they already were.
He was leaning against the wall, smoking when she came out of the hotel. His languid pose almost fooled her into thinking that it was right that they go walking together. That in fact he felt for her what she felt for him. She stood beside him for a moment, looking out to the crashing waves far across the glassy blue sea. She loved this place, how could she leave it? She loved everything about it and it killed her to think it had come to this.
‘It wasn’t a mistake; you know that, don’t you?’ he said casually as they began to walk towards the pier. ‘I mean, it wasn’t a mistake for me at least and I’ll bet it wasn’t for you either. There was no mistaking that you ran into the arms of the wrong brother, or that…’ He smiled at her, a crooked, sun-squinted smile that made her heart tumble in her chest.
‘Well it wasn’t right, either.’ She looked at him now in spite of herself. She knew that if they were alone she would fall into his arms all over again. Perhaps if they were alone he would want that too. ‘I have to leave here, Robert. I can’t stay, not after this.’
‘You can’t leave.’ He stopped short, spun towards her. ‘You cannot leave me, not when we have just…’
‘I’m not leaving you, I’m leaving Archie. After all, Robert, I’m engaged to Archie.’
‘Nothing has been announced, you don’t have to go through with it.’
‘I made a promise. I can’t keep it after last night, and I do care for him. I cannot humiliate him as well as break his heart. I’ve thought about it.’ She had thought about hardly anything else.
‘No, you haven’t thought about it at all. Iris, you cannot leave, not now. Break off your engagement with Archie but stay here. Surely, you can see that we… after last night…’
‘I can’t think, Robert, you have to stop.’ It was true. The more he spoke, the more she couldn’t decide what to do for the best. Of course, she knew the right thing to do was not to have slept with Archie’s brother. When she looked across at Robert, she knew he was right; perhaps they did not have a choice. They were meant to be together, for better or worse. Surely, they were on a road to disaster. Even if she tried, she could not step onto the safety of the footpath and back to the life she had with Archie.
‘Come to the bathhouse tonight, come and we will talk about things then.’ He was begging her. ‘Please, I promise, we won’t do anything…’ But they both knew that this wasn’t true, the words meant nothing, they could no more keep away from each other now than the waves in the ocean beneath them could stop turning.
*
Present
Iris spotted Archie heading purposefully, if slowly, out the front reception of the hotel with a large basket of turf. ‘Where are you off to?’ she enquired, but she knew when he turned to look at her he was lost for an answer. He left the basket at her feet, shook his head sadly.
‘I was bringing this down to Robert, but that can’t be right, can it?’ he asked and the uncertainty in his voice made him seem very old and very young all at once. ‘I thought he called earlier, looking for fuel for that old stove he keeps lit all the time, but…’ Archie scratched his head, the words already fading into the room around them.
‘Come on; let’s set them up in here.’ She patted his arm. By the time, they reached the drawing room he would forget all about going to the bathhouse.
The doctor had called in earlier that day. Dr Wall, she introduced herself as, whilst she peered into Archie’s eyes, seemed to be looking into his soul, she was replacing Dr Jones. She prescribed more medication, ‘for the Alzheimer’s’. She said the word like it was mumps. He would have to have more tests. Iris looked at the doctor. She was far too young to know what these things meant. If giving tablets out to halt the symptoms made her feel better, then she was naïve as well as fresh.
It was getting worse; maybe Archie knew that too, sometimes. It happened all the time now, Archie confusing himself, confusing her.
The first time Archie told her he had been walking with Robert along the back strand she nearly fell over. The words had tripped out as though he was talking about the weather. He knew immediately, maybe not exactly, but he knew that he had said something wrong.
It was why she could not show him the watch. It was why she didn’t want him to see things that brought those times back. She didn’t want him remembering things she hoped he had forgotten. All the same, she savoured the snatches of Robert that Kate brought to her, even if it was just a photograph or holding that watch. He wore it all the time that summer sixty years ago. Wore it when he worked and when he slept. She looked for it when they found his body, but he had not worn it then. After that, somehow she forgot about it until Kate brought it to her. It was right that Kate should have it. Kate had done so much to keep the bathhouse as it was, to keep his memory just as he would have liked it kept.
‘I know it’s silly, isn’t it?’ Kate said. They were sitting at the long kitchen table; two cups of half-drank tea before them. ‘Sometimes, I wonder if it’s morbid fascination – but then I suppose it’s natural to be curious about Robert, he seemed to be a real playboy.’
‘Oh, no, I can see how anyone could be enthralled with Robert,’ Iris said and then she stopped herself. ‘Just be careful that you don’t let life pass you by while you have your head stuck in his ledgers.’
‘Oh, Iris, I’m just sorting through them; a bit like you and Archie, it’s hard to let them go,’ Kate said and then she explained. ‘Anyway, they’re probably better for me to read at the moment than most of the newspapers these last few days.’ Todd Riggs had left Ballytokeep the morning the articles appeared in the paper. A noisy chopper had landed in the town square and he sauntered past the hotel as Iris was clearing away the dining room.
‘Listen, there’s more fish in the sea than Todd Riggs. You deserve someone better than any of them but time’s not on your side, my dear.’ She would love to see Kate settled with a family of her own.
‘Oh, Iris, I have plenty of time, don’t you worry.’
*
Robert, 1957
Robert waited in the darkness for her to arrive. He stood in the window, the only light behind him the occasional trouncing blue flame of the turf fire he lit more for effect than for heat. In the distance, the occasional glint of Rossmoor lighthouse caught his eye. Iris was making her way down the small track, he could just about make out her silhouette in the light of the full silver moon over head. He had fallen for her, fallen for her more than he ever thought possible. If he were a man to care about the feelings of others, he would admit that the whole thing was a mess, instead, he convinced himself the passion between them would soon wear out. It was almost a week now. Each day she would tell him that she was leaving and yet, in the dark of night, he would wait until he heard the light tap on the bathhouse door. He sipped the dregs of his brandy glass. He would pour a drink for her when she arrived, make her forget all about Archie. He thought Archie was such a fool, always doing the right thing – he should be seizing life as Robert did, before it was too late and he was married off for better or for worse. Probably still a virgin, if he was a betting man, he knew he’d be safe putting the bathhouse on that. Robert was far too calculating for gambling.
A liberal tap on the heavy door beneath him pulled Robert from his thoughts. He opened it quickly, and for a moment his eyes were drawn back up the track where he saw a flash of something move. In that moment, he knew that someone had followed Iris along the path. The question was who? Gemma or Archie?
25
Todd
He had been summoned – it was the only word – by Claudia and her publicist. When he arrived at her apart
ment, there was an army of people there. He could not blame her. It was everything she didn’t want.
‘What were you bloody thinking?’ she fired the words at him as he walked through the door. ‘What in the name of Prada were you doing with… her? God, you’re all but spoon-feeding her strawberries and cream.’ She was raging.
‘Nothing happened.’ He couldn’t meet her eyes, to do so would only incur more anger from her. ‘You know what the bloody papers are like, Claudia.’
‘Of course it didn’t.’ Her words were loaded with the venom that comes from being sold out. ‘It’s just a coincidence, you buying that tower on her doorstep. Be honest at least, Todd. You planned this right from the word go.’ She sighed; it was a sound too heavy for her delicate features. ‘I’m not stupid, you should know that. We were done when you headed off on tour. I knew that. I knew about the tart in the room, I knew all that. And to be honest with you, Todd, I was good with it, because, if you hadn’t had your heart attack, I was ready to move on too.’ She shook her lovely silver-blonde hair. ‘But that changed everything. I didn’t expect you to marry me, but to at least show some respect, for the press, for my reputation.’ The unsaid words were that she was the attractive one. She was the hip one, and if anyone should have been moving on first, it was she.
‘The thing is, Claudia, you could come out of this very well.’ He took a step towards her, then stopped, knew better. He’d been the wrong side of her temper before and for all her angelic looks he’d dodged one flying frying pan too many to get too close. ‘Everyone knows I’m a shit. Everyone knows what I am like. I’m unreliable, jack the lad. You could come out of this like Mother Teresa, but obviously with better clothes.’ He tried smiling, but she never got his jokes.
‘You don’t see it, do you? Todd, I don’t want their pity and with this that’s what I am going to get. I will be like Kate. A girl that’s always pictured alongside you; yesterday’s news. The one you walked out on. Well, I am nothing like her. I’m successful and younger and, for fuck’s sake, women want to be me.’
‘Well then, let’s front it out. Let’s tell them we are still together, that this was all just a mix-up. I can say I’ve been friends with Kate all these years, it’s just platonic.’ Todd had a feeling that Kate would not welcome this intrusion into her life now. He wasn’t brave enough to say so to Claudia.
‘Oh, yes, Kate. And tell me, Todd, who do you think leaked all of this to the press?’
‘You think Kate would do this?’ He shook his head and smiled, that was just madness. Kate had no interest in headlines. It was the last thing she would want. Wasn’t it? Todd dropped onto the oversized chaise long. An obscene purple lounger that would not look out of place in either a Barbie house or a brothel. Why would Kate tell the papers about him and Claudia?
‘The penny beginning to drop now, is it?’ Claudia sneered.
‘No.’ But his voice was uncertain. Kate was the only person he told about the girl in the hotel room. She was the only person he had talked to in the last few weeks. Even the fact that they got those pictures, he cringed when Claudia thrust them at him.
‘Like a love-struck fucking teenager, that is what you are, Todd. A stupid kid who just got old but never grew up.’ She was right; it was there, before him in black and white, from that pristine position so rarely afforded in life. Todd sat, shell-shocked, and looked at the photograph of himself and Kate walking the beach and, in those moments, he saw himself as a stranger, a man entranced and captivated by the woman at his side. This is what the world saw, and more importantly that was what Claudia believed.
‘Well, what have you to say for yourself?’ She was screaming at him, hysterical with rage and he could not blame her. He had been a complete fool and he had treated her almost as badly as he had treated Kate all those years ago.
‘I’m sorry, Claudia, that’s all I can say. I’m sorry for everything.’ Then he got up from the chair that was too soft and walked quietly from her apartment and her world.
*
‘Come over to ours,’ Denny said. His voice was warm and familiar and since Todd had just wandered about London aimlessly for almost four hours he figured he should go somewhere. Funny, he thought, sitting into a black cab, this city has never been home. It was why he stayed in the Embassy Rooms. He never considered buying a place of his own. For all the years he’d been here, he’d stayed in a hotel, where the bar was his local and his friends were no more than passing through. Ballytokeep was different. He knew it was becoming his home. He longed to be there now. He longed to be home and he knew as he walked through Denny’s familiar front door, that this was no longer the place he’d come to feel he belonged. It was someone else’s home with unfamiliar smells of meals eaten earlier still lingering on the air, reminding him that life went on here with or without him.
‘That’s it then, it’s all over with Claudia?’ Denny led him into the faded kitchen that was packed with the vestiges of a busy family life.
‘Yeah, I suppose it is.’ Todd shook his head, hard to believe it in some ways.
‘Ah, well, good while it lasted, and all that,’ Denny was a man’s man, he didn’t ‘do’ cosy emotional sharing easily.
‘Ah, Denny, can’t you see, he’s really hurting.’ Meg reversed out of the larder, her arms laden with vegetables for their dinner. ‘Don’t you mind him, love, he hasn’t the faintest.’
‘No, Meg, it’s all right, seriously, you know how things were, a couple of months ago I was ready to cut all ties. Just the last while, I’ve been a bit…’ he thought for a moment, ‘not myself.’
‘As long as you can still sing and stand on a stage, you’re going to be fine, mate.’ Denny laughed.
‘I’m fine already, Denny.’ And he was, strangely, he felt lighter walking away from Claudia, he felt no guilt. Not this time. He’d have given it a go, maybe, not for the right reasons, but he’d have given their relationship a shot, if Claudia had been up for that. God, now he thought about it, he was relieved it was over.
‘So, you’re back in London?’ Meg said as she handed him a mug of dark sweet tea as only Meg could make.
‘Course he is, sure we always knew he was just going to relax for a bit,’ Denny said and Todd found the cockiness in his voice annoyed him. ‘No one really lives in them old castles; you’d go mad out there looking at the ocean every day.’
‘Do you think?’ Todd smiled at his old friend, knew that Denny could not survive a week without the sound of London’s bells in his ears. ‘I’ve really settled in, Denny, I thought you could see that when you came over.’ He had seen it, and Todd knew it had surprised him. No one figured Todd for the settling type.
‘So, you’re going back, then are you?’ Meg said. ‘Is it that tower or is it Kate that’s bringing you back?’
A crazy thought played about in his head all afternoon. If Kate had fed that article to the papers; did he really deserve anything better? The other thing that struck him was, even if he did not have the bathhouse to visit, he needed to be in Ballytokeep.
‘Don’t be daft, woman, what would he be going back to Kate for?’
‘You saw them pictures just as well as the rest of the country did, Denny, don’t be pretending that it isn’t as obvious as the nose on your face exactly what we both thought when we saw them.’
‘And what was that, exactly, Meg?’ Todd smiled at her. She’d been too good to him over the years for them not to be honest with each other.
‘Well you know, that you and she are back together?’
‘No. I tore up the copybook there and I’m afraid there’s no putting it back together again.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Meg said sadly, she had been fond of Kate.
‘Well, Claudia reckons that she probably tipped off the papers, so I’d say she’s just getting her long overdue payback.’ Todd was trying to convince himself of this at least.
‘Much as I hate to say it, Todd, that’s not really Kate’s style.’
‘No.’
Todd shook his head sadly. He should be getting home. The only problem was that meant getting a plane organized and night was falling fast. The sensible thing would be to wait until tomorrow.
‘Stay here, Todd.’ Meg got up, turned on the small table light behind her. ‘Stay here and things will look better tomorrow, they always do.’
‘No, Meg, they’ll look exactly the same as they do today. You forget, I’m not going to waken any more sober tomorrow than I did today.’ He smiled at her. Meg was making her home-made cottage pie and he had to admit, he had missed that. ‘Course, I’ll stay, so long as you make Denny promise not to talk about the band.’
‘We have to talk about it sometime. There are a lot of fans out there who’ve bought tickets and there’s no sign of any concert coming their way.’
‘Can’t we give them their money back?’ Todd had to face this sometime. He had left it long enough. There would never be a good time to talk about it.
‘Not that easy, mate, we’re only taking a small slice of the pie. There are venues to be paid, roadies, stage people, you name it, and they’ve all lost a lot of money thanks to your dodgy ticker.’
‘And the rest of the band?’ He hadn’t talked to any of them, but then it was a two-way street.
‘You know what they want. They want to do the dates, collect the cheque and then go home to their country piles and pretend to be gentleman farmers or whatever it is they do when they’re off duty.’
‘Insurance?’ It was worth a try.
‘I talked to them, Todd, but they’re not exactly emptying the cash bags in front of us. They will cover some of the outlay, only cos they have to, but…’
‘Thousands?’
‘And then some, mate, and then some.’
‘Well, at least we know where we are. I can’t think about it yet, Denny. All I’m fit for now is dinner and sleep.’
‘Fine.’ Denny’s voice was short and Todd knew that he was not sure any more how far he could push him. The truth was, he’d spent as many nights in Denny’s spare room as he had at the Embassy Rooms. He’d been drunk most days, sliding chaotically through a life that held reason only for short periods, marked mostly by photographers snapping him and cups of tea with Meg and Denny. ‘I’ll hold them off for another while.’