A Month of Sundays

by Liz Byrski

  And sure enough, she sees that for the first time ever Adele has relaxed her shoulders. More than that, she’s rolling them energetically and pumping the air with her free hand. Then, with perfect timing, and in a rich and resonant voice, Adele begins to sing.

  ‘Stone the crows,’ Judy says, ‘I haven’t heard that song in years.’

  ‘Well look at that,’ Simone says, turning to Ros. ‘She is a woman possessed! And she really can roar!’

  A huge lump rises in Ros’s throat and she makes no attempt to stop the tears that well in her eyes. ‘She sure can,’ she says. ‘And she is a woman self-possessed.’

  And when Adele belts out that no one will keep her down again, Ros is on her feet, and Simone and Judy are right behind her, singing with her, swaying as Adele sways, watching her transformed before their eyes, the turquoise jumper enhancing the gleaming chestnut and silver in her hair.

  The birthday women are on their feet now, singing and swaying along, and everyone else from the bar staff to the customers is clapping and singing as Adele claims her own strength, her invincibility.

  Everyone is on their feet now. Ros, clinging to Simone’s arm, sees Adele look at her, and give her a long and meaningful nod, and a smile, before she looks out across the room, pumping her fist in the air again.

  ‘Oh yes Adele,’ Ros murmurs, ‘you really are a very special woman.’

  *

  A couple of hours later they catch a taxi home; they agree they can drive Ros’s car in to pick up the hire car tomorrow. Back at the house, Adele flops down on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, reliving the event in the pharmacy but also the book club discussion and how she had felt utterly compelled to get up on that small stage and belt out that particular song.

  ‘I always liked it but it never really meant much to me until now,’ she’d said to Ros later.

  ‘It always works for me,’ Ros said. ‘Some people reckon it’s a bit daggy these days, but it certainly hit the spot tonight.’

  Clarity, Adele thinks, had arrived so simply. Her mind drifts to her daily experience of feeling inferior, powerless, inadequate and sick with anxiety. She wonders how she can have tolerated it for so long. If she had stuck with Astrid, she wonders, who would she be by now? Like Reta, she has allowed all the subtle, and not so subtle, messages and assumptions about women – their reality, their hopes and dreams, their level of competence, and their value – to define her life, her moods, her aspirations. How could she not see all that? How has she never before understood that she can live as the woman she really is?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Judy is a little hungover this morning and when she wanders downstairs at nine-thirty there are no other signs of life and the house seems unusually cold. She pulls her dressing gown tighter around her and from the far side of the lounge room she sees that the front door is wide open. Someone has obviously gone for a walk – Simone probably, she thinks, although last night she’d announced she needed a sleep-in and wouldn’t be up for yoga.

  ‘Fried food and gin. Heavenly while you’re doing it but there’s always a hellish price to pay,’ she’d said.

  ‘Shame about yoga, but we could always do it later,’ Ros said. ‘I’m just beginning to like it!’

  But Judy reckons that even after sleeping in Simone would still be the first one up, and that she probably didn’t fully close the door behind her. There’s a stiff breeze outside; Judy closes the door and goes back through to the kitchen. Coffee, she thinks. Tea’s not going to do it for her this morning. She fills the kettle and decides to make a big pot – someone else is bound to turn up soon. She looks around the kitchen thinking it feels like home despite the fact they’ve only been here a few weeks. She wonders what it might be like if they shared a house all the time. No, that would probably be a disaster, but she knows she’s not ready for them to go their different ways, and won’t be for a while.

  Minutes later Adele wanders in, yawning. ‘Morning,’ she says. ‘Oh coffee, you are a saint, Judy, or are you planning to drink all that yourself?’

  ‘I think I probably could,’ Judy says, ‘but I made it with all of us in mind. How are you feeling this morning?’

  Adele slides into a chair at the table, raises one arm in the air and executes a rather floppy punching motion. ‘I am powerful,’ she says weakly.

  ‘Not very convincing,’ Ros says, appearing in the doorway. ‘Pretty pathetic in fact, but at least the sentiment is there. We didn’t drink that much, did we?’

  ‘We all drank more than we usually do,’ Judy says, getting out the mugs. ‘I certainly did. And it was a pretty full-on day.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Ros says.

  ‘I was wondering, Adele, did you hear from Marian about us staying on a bit longer?’ Judy asks.

  ‘I did,’ Adele says, ‘and it’s fine.’

  ‘Well it looks like Simone was first up after all,’ Ros says. ‘Clooney’s not around so I suppose she’s taken him for a walk.’

  Judy leans on the counter waiting until the coffee has brewed long enough, and the other two sit quietly at the table, Adele staring into the middle distance, Ros putting her hands on and off the table, which they all now know she does to check if she can control them. The smell of the coffee wafts through the room as Judy pours it. Adele gets up and takes the milk from the fridge.

  ‘You didn’t tell us about your book yesterday, Ros,’ Judy says. ‘The whole process fell apart, but it was worth it, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It really was,’ Ros says. ‘We’ll do it this morning when we’re . . . well, when we’re better than we are now.’

  ‘Oh my god! Fresh coffee!’ Simone says, standing in the kitchen doorway. ‘Is there enough for . . . ?’

  ‘There’s enough for everyone,’ Judy says.

  Simone joins them at the table and puts her head in her hands. ‘I will never drink gin again, in my whole life, ever.’

  ‘Ha!’ Ros says. ‘Until the next time. Did you have a good walk?’

  Simone looks up, laughs. ‘I’ve only walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, does that count as a good walk?’

  Ros stares at her. ‘You’re wearing a tracksuit.’

  ‘Yes, the house feels unusually chilly this morning.’

  ‘But if you’re here, where’s Clooney? Has anyone seen him this morning?’ Ros asks.

  They shake their heads.

  ‘Well who opened the door for him then?’ Judy asks. ‘It was wide open when I came down.’

  They stare at each other.

  ‘Maybe we didn’t shut it properly when we came in last night, and that’s why it’s so cold this morning?’ Ros says, and she struggles to her feet. ‘And no one’s seen him at all?’

  ‘Stay there,’ Adele says, getting to her feet and putting a hand on Ros’s arm. ‘I’ll go and look for him. Maybe he’s gone downstairs to yoga on his own, you know how he loves squeezing in between us when we’re all lined up together.’

  Judy finishes pouring the coffee, and sits down at the table. ‘He’s probably hiding to punish us for leaving him alone for so long yesterday,’ she says.

  Ros taps her fingers on the table, keeps glancing over her shoulder. ‘Where can he have got to?’

  Judy and Simone, feeling her tension, wait with her.

  Adele appears in the doorway. She has abandoned her dressing gown and is zipping up the jacket of her tracksuit. ‘He’s not in the house,’ she says. ‘I’ve checked everywhere. Was he in your room last night, Ros?’

  Ros gets up. ‘Yes, he was fast asleep at about four when I got up to go to the loo. But I always leave my door ajar so he can go with Simone in the mornings. Oh my god, he must have wandered off on his own.’

  ‘Okay, I’m going out to look for him,’ Adele says.

  ‘Me too,’ Simone says.

  Ros has gone white. ‘I’ll come
with you,’ she says.

  ‘No way,’ Adele says, turning back to her. ‘Stay here with Judy. He might wander in from somewhere.’

  Ros opens her mouth to protest.

  ‘No, Ros,’ Adele says firmly. ‘Simone and I will go. We’ll be quicker on our own.’

  Simone gets to her feet. ‘I’ll have a look in the garden,’ she says. ‘Best if you stay here, Ros.’ She slips out through the back door.

  But Ros is determined. She stands up far too quickly and stumbles, and Judy is only just able to stop her from falling. ‘Ros,’ she says. ‘Ros, please just stay here with me.’

  Ros is looking wildly around her, her hands shaking furiously, but Judy hangs on to her arm.

  ‘Listen, Ros,’ Adele says, ‘if you rush around looking for him you could fall, then we’ll have to concentrate on you and give up on looking for Clooney. So please stay here.’

  ‘I won’t fall over,’ Ros says irritably, ‘I’m not stupid, and I’m coming with you.’

  Judy can see that it is not just Ros’s hands that are shaking now; her legs are shaking too. But the rest of her feels rigid with determination, and so she keeps her arm locked firmly in Ros’s, resisting her efforts to break away.

  ‘Let them look around the garden,’ Judy urges, ‘it won’t take a minute.’

  Ros gives a derisive snort. ‘Well I can at least go to the front door and call for him,’ she says.

  Judy refuses to release her arm and goes with her. They stand by the door for several minutes, with Ros calling desperately for Clooney.

  Simone is back first, leaves and twigs in her hair from peering into Clooney’s favourite bushes. Then Adele appears from the other side of the house.

  ‘He’s not in the garden,’ Simone says. She looks up at Adele. ‘I think we should go to the waterfall, he loves that walk. If he’s not there we might try some of the other paths in Ros’s car.’

  ‘Right, good thinking,’ Adele says. ‘Please stay here with Judy, Ros.’

  ‘I’m not a bloody child,’ Ros shouts at her. ‘And he’s my dog.’

  ‘I know you’re not a child, but you’re behaving like one,’ Adele says. ‘And I know how much you love him, but please, trust us and don’t make it more difficult.’ She turns away and seconds later she is racing across to where Simone is heading towards the gate at the bottom of the garden.

  ‘Bloody cheek,’ Ros says. ‘How dare she.’ She wrenches her arm free and heads off after Adele.

  ‘Ros, Ros, stop, please stop!’ Judy says, grabbing her again, this time by the back of her dressing gown. But Ros is like a wild animal, waving her arms, her face contorted in fear and anger, tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘Ros, for heaven’s sake,’ Judy shouts, ‘stop this. You’re just making it worse.’

  Judy is surprised by how strong Ros is, and she’s angry with her now. She is both shorter and slighter than Ros, but she hangs on, pulling Ros backwards and then pushing her roughly off balance so that she collapses onto the sofa. Judy sits down on top of her and slaps her hard across the face.

  *

  Simone and Adele jog down the path calling Clooney as they go.

  ‘Ros is having a hissy fit,’ Adele says as they slow down on a slippery stretch. ‘I don’t fancy Judy’s chances of holding her back. She’s so devoted to Clooney, lord knows what she’ll do if we can’t find him.’

  ‘We’ll find him,’ Simone says firmly. ‘We have to. I think he could’ve got through a gap in the fence. Look!’ She points to a place where the wire fence has come away from its moorings. ‘I bet he got out through there.’ She thinks of Ros, so fearful and debilitated by her own condition, and how bereft she will be if something has happened to Clooney. ‘Come on,’ she says to Adele, dragging open the gate. ‘Don’t try to run here, the path is too dodgy.’ They walk together, briskly and in silence, past the bend and along the narrow final stretch.

  Clooney is sitting, or rather lying comfortably on his stomach, head and shoulders up, his large pink tongue hanging out of his mouth, panting happily, enjoying the view of the water cascading over the rocks.

  ‘Clooney,’ Simone calls, relief flooding through her. ‘Clooney, come on, come here.’

  Clooney looks at them, thumps his tail, leaps up and pounds back towards them, perilously close to the edge of the path. Simone turns to Adele.

  ‘Thank god,’ she says. ‘I was worried he might have gone over the edge.’

  ‘Me too,’ Adele says. ‘It was the first thing I thought of when you said we should come this way.’

  They both bend down to greet him, and Simone pulls some treats out of her pocket.

  ‘Sneaky!’ Adele laughs. ‘No wonder you top the Clooney popularity poll. I think you are now second only to Ros in his affections.’

  Simone smiles. ‘I’m not giving him a lot like I was before,’ she says, stroking Clooney’s head. ‘Just a few, very occasionally. Promise you won’t report me to Mother Superior?’

  Clooney is covered in mud, and dead leaves are tangled in his long furry ears and tail. Simone thinks he’s looking rather pleased with himself.

  ‘You’re very naughty,’ Simone says. ‘But we’re awfully pleased to see you.’ She straightens up. ‘Come on, trouble, let’s go.’

  They walk back in silence, Clooney trotting alongside them, and stop just inside the gate to drag some fallen branches across the hole in the fence.

  ‘I’ll ring Gwenda when we get back,’ Adele says, ‘see if she can get Ray to come up and fix that.’

  Simone nods, thinking of Ros, the desperation in her face, the sudden panic and aggression. Ros really is struggling, she thinks. Poor Ros, she tries so hard to be tough and pretend that she’s coping, but she’s right on the edge. Perhaps letting off steam might be a good thing for her, but Simone fails to convince herself because the desperation on Ros’s face had been utterly heartbreaking.

  *

  A couple of hours later, Ros lies on her bed exhausted. Clooney, looking a great deal more respectable since Adele and Simone bathed him in the laundry trough, and Simone finished him off with a blow dry, has now crashed out on his bed. Ros feels as though every spark of spirit and energy has been wrung from her. The joy and relief of getting Clooney back was almost as overwhelming as her fear of what might have happened to him. And while she feels calm now, and thankful, she also feels as though something within her has been broken and that it might take a long time to put it back together again.

  It’s not just about Clooney of course, she knows that, and in fact she is grateful to him for being the trigger to crack open the great mess of emotions that has been building within her. She knows she behaved very badly to people who cared for her, and the return of the wanderer had brought tears and laughter, and many apologies, but she is ashamed now, embarrassed by her own behaviour, shocked in fact that she had been so rude and aggressive. And there, at the root of it all, is her health, her condition, the Parkinson’s that, even after admitting it to the others, she has still failed to own, as Simone had urged. She just keeps running away.

  But I can see now that I can’t do that anymore, she says to James, it’s part of who I am or who I’ve become. Whatever will I do when I am back home alone, with no plans and no sense of how this might all move on? She sighs, shifts her position, peers over the side of the bed and reaches down to stroke Clooney, then lies down again. I have to do better from now on.

  A knock on the door disturbs her. ‘Come in,’ she says, sitting up abruptly, and reaches for her watch. Two o’clock! Having all missed out on breakfast they’d agreed to a late lunch at two. And then she would hand over her books for Sunday’s discussion.

  Adele pops her head around the door. ‘Ready for lunch, Ros?’

  Clooney stretches and gets to his feet, wagging his tail at Adele, and she bends down to stroke him, and looks up at Ros. ‘He looks pretty gorgeou
s with Simone’s blow dry, doesn’t he?’

  ‘He really does,’ Ros says, ‘though he runs a mile if I put the hair dryer anywhere near him at home. Simone must have worked some magic on him.’ She gets to her feet. ‘Thanks for coming to get me, I must have dozed off. Adele, I am so sorry about this morning.’

  Adele straightens up. ‘You’ve done all the apologies. It was a horrible thing to happen, we were all on edge and I was rather bossy.’

  ‘You were wonderful.’ To her surprise Ros feels her eyes filling with tears again. She blinks them back fiercely. ‘Not just this morning, yesterday too. It was remarkable to watch you in the pharmacy, and then later, the karaoke . . .’

  Adele laughs. ‘What a strange day it was. All I know is that it was right, the time was right, and I suppose I was ready to be different. And you, Ros, have been a big part of that. Anyway, come on down for lunch. You can tell us about the book.’

  They sit around the kitchen table eating Judy’s vegetable soup with crusty bread that Simone had fetched from the bakery.

  ‘Geoff called,’ Simone says. ‘Doug is arriving tomorrow and he’s invited me there for dinner. Thank goodness it’s not tonight or I’d be falling asleep halfway through.’

  Ros watches her, trying to imagine how it must feel to be reunited with these people who have been such an important part of her life but from whom she was separated for so long. ‘That’s going to be a wonderful evening,’ Ros says. ‘Tears, laughter, and, I imagine, lots of photographs.’

  Simone smiles. ‘Indeed. And I think there’ll be other things as well, but I’m not sure what. Geoff is being very cagey, keeps saying it’s better to talk things through when the three of us are together. Anyway, we’ll see what tomorrow brings.’

  ‘Book time,’ Judy says. ‘What have you got for us, Ros?’

  Ros hauls up a canvas bag that she had put by her chair, takes out the books and puts them on the table.

  ‘My book is An Equal Music, by Vikram Seth,’ she says, handing copies around.

  ‘Brilliant!’ Adele says. ‘I’ve been meaning to read this for ages.’