As a child I’d been told divorce was a mortal sin. My grandmother had a massive crush on Dean Martin and used to look forward to the Dean Martin season of movies, screened on consecutive Sunday nights. When she suddenly heard he had divorced his first wife, she swore she’d never look at or listen to him again. She even went so far as to smash two of his vinyl records. I’d shuddered at the intensity of her disgust and thought divorce would be the worst evil that could ever befall me. I’d also cried for poor Dean Martin who, on my grandmother’s say so, was sure to end up in hell for his wicked deeds. Now, I thought, perhaps divorce can sometimes be a spiritual choice, based on compassion and authenticity. And I hoped in my heart of hearts that eventually Trevor and I would become good friends.
Chapter Thirty-three
I was busy looking at an employment agency website one evening, when the phone rang. Seeing it was from my sister, I answered.
“Something terrible has happened, Kate.”
My heart sank to the ground on hearing Liz’s panicked voice on the other end of the phone. “Is it Dad?” I asked, voice shaking
“No, he’s fine. It’s Alan. He’s just told me he’s gay.” Alan was her eldest son and my godson, an absolutely gorgeous young man with the most gentle, loving nature. I’d often suspected he could be gay but never said anything. Liz had always pushed her children to be high achievers and had drilled it into them that they needed to marry well. “Can you talk to him and try to convince him he’s not? I mean it’s totally unacceptable for a doctor and he’s in final year medicine. Imagine getting this far and he decides to turn gay.”
“Liz, this isn’t a terrible thing. And he didn’t just decide to turn gay. He was born that way and he needs you as his mother to accept that. He’s still the same wonderful young man. What he needs is your unconditional love.”
“What about his career? Nobody’ll want a gay doctor coming near them and he still wants to do surgery.”
“Liz, wake up, we’re living in the twenty-first century. Lots of gay men are more responsible than straight men when it comes to sexual practices. Employers can’t discriminate on grounds of sexual orientation. Why don’t you come to Billy’s party – well, it’s my party too? You’ll meet James and he’ll set your mind to rest.”
“Oh God, I’m in no mood for a party, Kate.”
“All the more reason you should come! When is the last time you let your hair down? Leave hubby at home baby-sitting the younger two. We’ll make sure you enjoy yourself!”
“I’ll think about it. Is there no way you’ll come up to talk Alan round?”
My doorbell rang. I walked over to peer at the pin-hole camera. It was James. “No, Liz. Alan’s business is none of my business. Now I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I pressed the button, opening the front door and waited for him to come down the stairs. “C’mon in,” I said, pecking his cheek and helping him remove his coat. He followed me through to the kitchen where he spotted my laptop on the kitchen table, open at the employment website and with print-outs of restaurants scattered all over the table. “Would you like tea?”
“No. I came to tell you something.”
“What is it?” I noted his serious expression with alarm.
“I was in Mayo on a visit to Maria and she was asking for you. She mentioned how gorgeous you were; she said you must have men chasing after you.”
“Ah, that was sweet of her. I must call her. Though she couldn’t be more wrong about the men bit,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Anyway, I hope you don’t mind but I told her the story about you being soft on an artist who was involved with someone called Myra.”
“James, I don’t mind what you tell Maria. She’s not a gossipy type.”
“Well, it happens she knows Myra.”
“Really?”
“Yes and the story we heard is totally wrong. She knows Myra’s sister and it turns out Jennie had her story all wrong. Myra’s artist husband died recently, leaving her with a three-year-old son.” James paused for emphasis. “Geoff was a very good friend of her late husband’s and he’s been very supportive to her since he’s also the child’s godfather. Repeat … godfather, not father. I knew I should have made an effort to speak to him on your behalf.”
I could feel myself redden with mortification at having swallowed idle gossip. Why hadn’t I given Geoff a chance to explain? Yet I had caught him with Myra, when he’d claimed to be in Dublin. “Well, it’s a bit late now, James – I just want to forget about him.”
“Are you sure, Kate? I mean, you were very keen.”
“I’m sure, James. That opportunity came and went,” I said adamantly. “Now I’m looking at employment websites.”
“Is there anything worthwhile on offer?”
“Lots of relief work for one and two week periods. I figure I’m a free agent so I can live like a nomad spending two weeks in Dublin followed by a week in London or Cork. The pay is good as they find it hard to get a decent chef to cover the absence of a head chef.”
“When does the first one start?”
“After Billy’s party, on the twentieth of November. You’re coming to that, aren’t you?”
“Definitely, darling. And without Alex, so tell Billy to invite some nice gay guys will you?”
“So you’re definitely not getting back with Alex this time then? And what about your own advice to abstain from relationships after a break-up?”
“I know, darling, it’s the right thing to do and I did before but when I’m lonely I can’t help but wish for Mr Right to come along. That need has to burn itself out, the way it did with you. You’re so much less needy now, Kate.”
“I’d still like to meet someone but I’m less hung up on meeting a knight in shining white armour. I just wouldn’t mind an occasional date even if it went nowhere. I’d quite like a platonic relationship, like I have with you.”
“Hmm … you know that’s difficult between a man and a woman except if one is gay. Have you gone back on the dreaded dating sites?”
“Not actively, even though I registered on that site Ella’s on. Didn’t put up a profile. I was only thinking about it last night that it could be fun to line up the odd date to coincide with working in different locations.” Then, wrinkling my nose, I added, “But I’ve arrived at the stage where I’m not really pushed if I ever have a man in my life again.”
“Then you’ve arrived at a good place, Kate. Why don’t you put up a whacky profile for the fun of it? I could do with a laugh. I want to see how you do it.”
“Right so … Pull your chair in closer, and we’ll see can we manage to generate a few laughs. Now have a look at these photos and tell me which to use for my profile.” I opened a folder on my laptop.
“I like that one.” James pointed to an image of me wearing false eyelashes. “You look like Julianne Moore in it. What name are you using?”
“Hekate. What do you think?”
“Appropriate for Halloween. You’re getting in touch with your wild side, Kate. I like it – Goddess of the dark side of the Moon and patroness of witches. Didn’t you tell me Raúl suggested you had an affiliation with her?”
“Yes and I nearly went ballistic when he first mooted that. I always thought she was an evil old crone, ugly and gnarled. Everything I would wish to be the opposite of.”
“So you see when we try to deny any aspect of ourselves it can take on a power of its own. I know that from trying to repress my homosexuality and how it tormented me. When I came out it was no big deal. Hekate represents not only acceptance of getting older but also the gifts that come with age.”
“You’re fierce philosophical, James.” I attempted an old crone’s voice: “And pray tell me, what gifts can I expect?”
“Wisdom and increased creativity wouldn’t be bad for starters, would it?”
“Not bad. Now let’s get cracking here with Hekate’s profile. I’ll keep this simple yet quirky …” I wrote:
“I am a woman of contrasts;
one who likes to run through the woods at dawn and twilight, yet also enjoys dressing up for an evening at the theatre. I would like to meet a man to read Borges, Salinas and Neruda to, watch several film versions of Anna Karenina with, meditate on a mountain top with and explore the Amazon jungle with.
Difficult to meet the right man but if you are reasonably chilled out with a sense of humour and an optimistic nature then drop me a line.”
“Good grief Kate, anyone who understands that will know you’re a passionate woman, but I’d be surprised if they get it. Now fill in the next part.”
“No, I couldn’t be bothered. I’ll tick a few boxes like ‘attractive’ rather than ‘very attractive’, but I’m not serious about this so I’ll leave the rest blank the way a lot of people do.”
“Right, let’s have a cup of tea and we’ll see if anyone gets back to you.”
As I made tea, we got chatting about preparations for Billy’s party and what we would wear. But James was soon curious to see if any messages had come in for Hekate, and made me look. There were already several responses,.
I was puzzled. “James, two of them start with ‘Hey Kate’. Do they know me from a previous site? One says: ‘Hey Kate, How’s it going?’”
“Read it out.”
I recited: “Hey Kate, Do you know Hekate is the Goddess of witches? Why use this name when you could have chosen Aphrodite or Venus? Is it because it’s so close to Halloween? I can only presume your name must be Kate! You say you find it difficult to meet the right man. I think you must be hard to please but I like a good challenge and would like to put myself forward. John.”
“So there’s your answer. They think it’s a take on your name. Yer man John looks all right. Will you write back? You could say ‘Aphrodite or Venus, when it’s all about your penis.’ It kind of rhymes. When they want you to be Aphrodite it’s definitely part of a sexual fantasy.”
“James, I’m shocked by you. You were the one telling me to forget about men. I’m definitely not writing back anything so provocative. In fact, I’m in no mood to write back, full stop. Oh God look at this. It’s totally weird. I knew I’d get some weird stuff.”
The message read:
My Dear Hekate
While I do not fit the description of your ‘date’, I’m afraid that there is no way I can NOT send you this message!! You correctly describe yourself as attractive, but the left hand section on ‘more about me’ is quite irresistible!
Running through the woods, eccentric or not, hints at a primal awareness. As for me, well ... if I alluded to the Wolf – not to the ‘Jack Nicholson’ portrayed version, all predatory and selfish – but to a deeper awareness and energy, would that make sense to you? I am deep, a diver, not shallow, a surfer. I am aware, but have my blind spots!!
I can talk and discuss anything you wish, and would love so to do
Jake
“Christ, Kate, does he think he’s a werewolf or something? You have to write to him. Go on!” James was splitting his sides laughing. I wrote a few lines thanking Jake for this most unusual mail and within ten minutes he had sent another more lengthy reply about “Hekate and the power of the crone”. “He says ‘us spiritual types find it hard to accept our psychopathic tendencies but Hekate is about the total illumination of every area of yourself’,” James read out loud in alarm.
“And he finishes by asking can he have my telephone number! Says here that he’s a psychiatric nurse. He sounds intelligent, but the stuff about psychopaths is really scary.”
“A lot of psychopaths are above average intelligence. I’d drop him before he scares you senseless. He’s a potential stalker and you don’t want that. Look, I’d better go. See you before going to Billy’s on Saturday night. You could write back to the first guy though. He wasn’t bad.”
After James left, I realised that internet dating no longer held any fascination for me. It required a lot of effort to separate the wheat from the chaff and I constantly doubted my ability to discern which was which since it was so easy to build up a rosy picture from a picture and profile. I was beginning to realise that when we met someone in the flesh for the first time, our five senses informed our gut about the suitability of that person. I was only just learning to listen to my gut, after ignoring it for so long.
Maybe someone like Jake really was genuine person but in the real world it was unlikely our paths would ever cross. Looking at pictures of these men, I felt dizzy as they all appeared to morph into one generic prototype. Maybe it was because it felt like so many of them thought they were “shopping” for a mate. There and then, I deleted my profile as Hekate. In the past few months, several people had advised me to stop trying so hard to control my life and instead, just let it happen. I thought I could meet the perfect man through spreading my net wide as Ella had suggested but it hadn’t happened. I now reverted to my original belief that there had to be an element of serendipity in meeting the love of one’s life.
As I prepared to turn off the lights, I glanced towards my painting and the dream catcher, I suddenly remembered Louis Pasteur’s famous words: “Chance favours the prepared mind.” Well, I would prepare my mind by connecting it to an open heart in case the possibility of love should come my way. If it happened, I’d be happier than if I’d won the lottery, but if it didn’t I wouldn’t spend my life in mourning. I now knew the difference between loneliness and being alone and I was becoming increasingly contented in my own company.
Chapter Thirty-four
Ella, James and I arrived early on the Saturday evening at Billy’s Victorian pile set among spectacular gardens. “Nice knockers!” James said, admiring the elaborate brassware on the large front door. “Why, thank you,” said Ella, cupping her ample breasts as she jiggled one in each hand. We were all in high spirits anticipating the party. Seconds later the door flew open with Billy standing there to greet us, his eyes drawn to Ella’s impressive cleavage.
“Great to meet your gang, Kate. Come on in. Are you all set for the party tonight then?” Billy said, giving me a hug before telling the others to join my sister Liz in the drawing room. Gripping my elbow, he said, “I’m still cut up over my cookery job being gone when you finally rang to say you’d take it. Talk about bad timing. Mind you, that vacancy for lifestyle store manager remains open if you’re interested?”
“I’m game for anything at the moment, Billy. Though I don’t have experience in buying and merchandising.”
“We can talk about it by and by. The shop won’t be up and running until April.” He led me in to join the others who were having coffee and tea in the drawing room. I kissed Liz who was poised on a chaise longue, her elegant legs to one side like a Victorian lady. I was pleased to see her looking reasonably relaxed after her hysterical phone call but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy getting our Liz to thaw out since she was always conscious of keeping up appearances and “behaving in a dignified manner”, as she would say. At least she hadn’t chickened out and seemed at ease as she chatted with Ella.
“Everyone got their costume in order?” Ella asked, looking around.
“Kate, you never told me it was fancy dress?” Liz squealed in horror.
“Never thought to mention it. But don’t worry, we’ll improvise, put something together between us.”
Liz didn’t look convinced; she shifted uncomfortably, and glanced towards the door like she might flee at any minute.
“How about I show you all to your rooms and you can get ready?” Billy offered as people finished their coffees.
Obediently we trooped out of the living room and followed him up the cantilevered stairway. Billy opened the door to a large room with gold-flocked wallpaper and dark walnut floorboards. “This is yours, Ella.”
Ella chirped for joy as her eyes fell upon the white four-poster bed with matching white dressing table and antique oriental screen. “Oh my God … this is fit for a queen.”
On the next floor, James was given a room decorated in shades of cream and choco
late with a mahogany sleigh bed. Liz’s room was pretty and feminine in shades of topaz and light turquoise with a gorgeous central chandelier cascading from a purple satin shade.
“Now, I thought you’d like this one,” Billy said, opening the door to the left of Liz’s to reveal an all-white room with long voile curtains draped on either side of the window and lining the opposite wall. The wardrobes were flush with a third wall, making it seem that there was no furniture apart from the bed, two side lockers and a large cream Buddha sitting on the window ledge. “Oh, it’ll be like sleeping in angels’ wings.” I dropped my bags on the floor and walked towards the large bay window to soak in the panoramic view of the gardens and lake. The sun was slowly sinking behind a curtain of gold, the distant hills mysterious as an undulating serpent. Like liquid mercury the water in the lake pooled in shades of evanescent silver and blue while the moon had already appeared like one large pewter disc. “Look at the sunset, Billy.”
“It’s a special harvest moon this evening, Kate. Supposed to be bigger than usual. What’s sometimes known as a blue moon.”
“The sun and the moon together.” I marvelled at the sight before my eyes. “Thank you, Billy!” I blew him a kiss.
He laughed on his way out of the door. “I arranged it especially for you – special cosmic order.”
No sooner had he gone when Liz came in, a stricken look on her face. “Kate, I could kill you for not warning me about the fancy dress.”
“Calm down! You can take my costume if you like.”
“What is it?”
“A vampire.”
“I suppose … But what will you wear? You can’t not dress up!” She still seemed very up-tight.
“One black maxi skirt coming up along with an old black wig Julie had for a costume party,” I said, pulling both items out of my bag. It was by pure chance I’d put my hand on the wig and decided to bring it. “And Ella’s sure to have a black top I can borrow. I’ve a couple of black bin bags in the car to make a cloak, and after that it’s just a matter of a little face painting. Here, relax …” I handed her the vampire costume, still in its suit cover. Forty minutes later I knocked on her door, a generous wine glass filled to the brim with champagne in my hand and a bag of face paints tucked under my elbow. I’d brought two bottles to the party – one for Billy and a spare for Liz, and I’d slipped down to the kitchen to find some glasses. “For you, your favourite champagne, Veuve Cliquot,” I said, handing Liz the glass.
Love & The Goddess Page 29