by Martha Long
‘Why not? You will like it. I will take you. You will stay with my family. My mother and sisters. They will be happy to see you. We are a big family. Very close!’
I sat rooted to me chair, feeling my whole world has suddenly changed. I didn’t want to get the wrong idea, letting me hopes rise, opening myself up!
‘Why, Sergei? Why would you want to invite me?’
‘Why not? We can spend a little time together. Take a holiday. I need to prepare myself,’ he said, letting go of my hand and examining his own. ‘I must take this opportunity before I leave,’ he said, sounding very mournful. ‘It will be years before I see my family once again. Also, it would be good to have you share my world. I would like this. You must live your life, Martha. Do not be afraid to leave your village life.’
‘When will you be going, Sergei?’ I said, feeling me heart in me mouth, looking at him. I really wanted to get very close to him. But I’m afraid to think like that.
‘September . . . I do not know yet. But it will be soon. I am thinking this way. But first, arrangements have to be made. OK! Now we must do some work. Please take away these dishes! You clean up the mess. I am afraid your kitchen is not as you left it,’ he laughed, walking off to the garage, saying, ‘I will take care of the garden. I must cut this grass.’
56
* * *
I put the book down, not able to concentrate on it. I looked around, sighing, wondering what to do with meself. It’s only seven o’clock. I wonder what Sergei is doing? Pity I can’t ring him, or, better still, go up and see him. Never! Not in a million years! What would I do? Wander around asking for him? He’s probably over with the monks, doing whatever they’re doing. Hmm! I wish I knew what’s really on his mind. Visit his country, then come home, leaving him to go off into the wilderness. What would that get me? I wonder does he want an affair before he goes? No, not for me. It would most certainly be looking for trouble. Big trouble. No! I don’t need that. Still, up to this he hasn’t made any advances to me.
OK! Plain and simple, Martha. When he does finally show up – it’s been two weeks since he mentioned Russia. I haven’t clapped eyes on him since – Well! Just ask him straight out, does he want to sleep with me? If the answer is yes, then my answer is no! What good is an affair? I want someone around for a lifetime. A man who will value my worth. Someone I would give my love, my trust and total commitment to. Right! Get your bearings first, Martha. No point in wandering off down the wrong bleedin road. Time is precious. I have a whole lot of living to do. I sighed, letting out my breath, feeling better I had got that sorted.
Now! What about a bit of television? I hopped up, giving Bonzo a fright. His head shot up, looking at me with roaring-red bloodshot eyes. He stared for a few minutes, with the eyes looking shell-shocked, then gave up, seeing nothing much was happening.
‘Ooooohhh!’ he moaned, snorting like mad, then dropped back down again, giving a huge sigh of contentment.
I watched as he splattered himself right in front of the sofa, stretching himself for more comfort. Within seconds, he was back to snoring. ‘Ohh! You’ve a dog’s life!’ I said, hearing me own voice.
The phone rang just as I sat down. Oh! Wonder who that is? Forget it, Martha. It’s not Sergei. He doesn’t ring.
‘Hello!’
‘Martha Long! Where have you been hiding yourself?’
I listened, then screeched, ‘Kitty! Gawd! It’s been ages!’
‘What happened to you?’ she said, making it sound like an accusation.
‘Ahhh! Did ye not hear? I was locked up in the loony bin!’
There was a second’s silence, then a scream came down the line. ‘Oh, Jesus! Stop! So I heard. Oh, my God, I have missed you! Listen! Gotta go! Just a quick call. What are you doing tomorrow? Are you free for lunch?’
I thought, wondering if I had forgotten something. ‘Nope! Free as a bird. Where will we meet?’
‘What about Pink Lilly’s? Just after the rush hour, say about two-ish?’
‘Yeah, great, see you then.’
‘Bye, darling! Can’t wait!’ she said.
‘Yeah! Lovely! See you then. Cheers!’
I parked the car, looking to see if it was a double line. No! No tickets on the other cars. Great. Then I made it across Westmoreland Street, going down a side street and into the restaurant. I looked around, seeing the tables were occupied by mostly one person. Men reading the newspaper before they went back to the office.
I walked behind the cash desk and sat down in a little alcove with a window looking out into the street. No sign of Kitty yet! I picked up the menu, looking at the prices. Three-course special – four quid! No thanks. Give that a miss. Right! I’ll just have the soup and a roll.
I opened my bag and rolled meself a cigarette, then sat back to wait. The waitress glanced at me, then decided I could wait, and went back to more serious stuff, talking to her friend sitting behind the cash desk with a wig on her that looked like a dead rat! It was black and went down to her shoulders. Jaysus! The state of the pair of them! The other one had her hair scraped back in a ponytail. It was very thin – that’s from all the dyeing she gives it. Now it was mouldy black.
She looked over again at me, saying, ‘Just let me finish this cigarette, love! Then I’ll be wit yeh in a minute!’
I nodded, giving her a smile. But her head was already turned back to the friend, who was more interesting than serving me!
‘It’s OK, no hurry,’ I said. ‘But if you could bring me a glass of water, please. I’m waiting for someone.’
She flicked her head at me, giving a quick nod, saying, ‘Yeah! Oh, yeah! Ye’re great, thanks. I’ll get tha!’ Then she turned back to the wig, who was waiting to continue her conversation. But first she squinted, closing one eye with the smoke billowing around her, and said, ‘I hate these early afternoon rushes! So go on! Ga sinta tell us! Did you go out with your man after all?’
I waited, listening to the conversation, knowing there was no point in complaining.
The wig one lifted her chin off her elbow and wrinkled her nose, letting her mouth curl up to meet it, then said, ‘Do yeh mean the taxi fella?’
‘Yeah, him!’
‘Jaysus! Don’t talk te me about him! All I got there was a bag a chips in the back of his taxi, then he was after a bit of the other!’
‘Tsk, tsk! I thought ye were made up there!’ Ponytail said. ‘Him havin the taxi an all tha! Pity!’ she said, turning back to me.
‘He was a waste a space!’ the wig one roared, getting herself all worked up when it slowly dawned on her just how much she had been insulted. ‘I mean! The cheek a the fella! Thinkin he could a had me for the price of a bag a chips! I ask yeh! I should a bleedin brained him!’ she snorted. ‘Treatin me like a slag!’
‘I know! Some fellas have the cheek a the devil!’ Ponytail sniffed. ‘It’s not like he had any class! You’d expect tha from the likes a them. But still an all, Ga sinta! He had a taxi! Think a the money he’d bring home!’
‘No! He was too common,’ Ga sinta sniffed, getting an awful smell under her nose and shaking it away with her head.
‘So, what can I get you, love?’ she said, whipping out her notebook.
‘Eh, just a glass of water, please. I’m waiting on someone.’
She sighed, stabbing the notebook back in her pocket, and made off, muttering to Ga sinta, ‘Jaysus! Yer woman! The last a the big spenders! We’re not goin te make much in tips today, Ga sinta.’
‘No, certainly not outa me!’ I snorted to meself.
She came slowly back, slapping the glass of water on the counter, giving me a sour look.
Jaysus! I wonder where Kitty is? This is not like her.
The phone at the cash desk rang. I heard Ga sinta talking, then she was looking around at me. ‘Yeah! I see a woman of tha description all right. She’s sittin here. Yeah, I’ll tell her! Excuse me! Are you Martha?’
‘Yes,’ I said, getting worried.
‘We
ll, a woman, she says her name is Kitty, she wants me to tell ye she’s sorry but her car broke down at traffic lights on the way here. She’s waitin for a mechanic te come an fix it. But she will ring ye this evening.’
Oh, bloody hell! Poor Kitty! She must still be going around in that old banger! I wonder if she will ever manage to get a few bob together and buy herself a decent one?
‘Yes, OK. Thanks for telling me,’ I said, smiling at her. Ahh! She’s a decent girl, I thought to myself after all. They just want to make a few bob, like everyone does.
Right! What now? I rolled a cigarette, thinking about Kitty. I hope she’s OK! She can be so bloody scattered. Jaysus! The pair of us go back a long way. I have known her for years.
Yeah, Kitty and her bright ideas. She’s an artist. We have had some great laughs together. She even dragged me to a tea dance once in a hotel. Oh, Jaysus! That was a scream. The aul fellas, they were well past their prime, queued up to waltz us around the floor. We flew them off their feet, skating around to music from the First World War played by a geriatric band. Some of them were very lecherous and kept trying to squeeze my arse! One aul fella, he had one foot in the grave, actually pulled me into him so tight, my nose was pressing into his neck, then he whispered into my ear, ‘Would ye like a dip a the wick? Ye’re a lovely-lookin woman!’ Then he stopped whirling me around and looked into me face. ‘I’m not too far from here,’ he said. ‘Me place is in walkin distance.’
I stared in shock at his cheek, looking at his red rheumy eyes and purple lecherous face, and gave him a smack on the gob!
There was uproar. ‘That’s a shockin carry-on! Hittin that poor aul man, an he after dancin wit ye!’ an aul one said, rushing over to poke me in the chest. ‘Lookit him! Tha poor crature will never be the same after you molestin him!’ she sniffed, pointing to the aul fella slinking off to hide in the men’s toilet.
‘He molested me!’ I shouted, then told her through snorts from me nose, ‘Excuse me, Missus! If you want to be groped on yer arse, then that’s fine! You go and dance with him,’ I shouted, getting all red in the face, seeing the whole place was turning against me.
‘Get the manager!’
‘Yeah, go on, somebody! Quick! Call that manager!’ they all started screaming.
We had to leg it out the door before I got arrested! Fuck Kitty and her ‘Ballroom of Romance’ she called it. It was no such thing! She had the idea she might meet some old retired colonel type with a big stately home out in Wicklow or somewhere! She was already planning on turning the drawing room into a studio for herself, where she could get on with her painting, using the scenery for inspiration. Bleedin hell! That was something we definitely should have missed.
No, it was very sad, really. Just a load of retired, lonely old people. All sitting around staring, desperately hoping to meet someone. They were looking for companionship and hoping to find someone to curl up with on dark wintry nights. Jaysus! I pray I don’t end up like that myself one day. It’s too cruel.
Right! I’m not bothered about eating here. I think I’ll get going. Do something more useful.
I walked out onto the street, seeing a taxi pull up with Kitty sitting in the back. She leaned across, paying the driver, then jumped out. ‘Darling! Oh, am I glad to see you! What a bloody day! Here, where are you going?’ she said, grabbing my arm. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘No, Kitty. What happened? Where’s the car?’
‘Oh, forget that! I’ve abandoned the bloody thing. I hope they tow it away to the scrapheap. Come on! Let’s go back inside.’
‘OK,’ I said, letting her grab on to me arm.
‘Ohh! I have so much to tell you. Wait until you hear! Oh, my God! What happened to you? Jesus! I nearly cracked up myself. That bloody awful agent of mine! Where will we sit?’ she said, swiping the big hat off her head, tossing her long curly hair, then sweeping her eyes around the room, taking everything in. The place was nearly empty.
‘Ohh, there’s no atmosphere here. Come on! Let’s go somewhere else. What about . . . Searson’s? No! Let’s walk up Grafton Street. We can go into that nice hotel on Wicklow Street.’
‘Come on!’ she said, linking her arm through mine. ‘You look marvellous!’ she gasped, stopping to look me up and down. ‘You are simply bursting with rude health! Where did you get that tan?’
‘In the back garden,’ I said, managing to get a word in.
‘Well! I could do with a bit of whatever it is that has put that glow back into your cheeks. My God! Everything has been so manic. My love life is a mess. My agent is a lush. That one spends her time getting groped under the tables by more London and New York galleries than she does trying to grope them to sell my paintings! Anyway! I fired her!’
‘Again?’ I said. ‘Thelma Marsh?’
‘Yes! Who else? Oh, did I tell you? I sold a painting.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes! Thirty thousand!’
‘What? Oh, congratulations! I’m so delighted and excited for you, Kitty. Now don’t go blowing it this time. You make huge money every now and then,’ I said, looking at her sideways, ‘then you are flat broke!’
‘Oh, darling! This is not a rehearsal. We only live once!’ she said, looking straight ahead. ‘Oh, it was so lucky I didn’t manage to burn that particular painting. Do you know,’ she said, looking at me with her big sky-blue eyes under the thin eyebrows, ‘I nearly joined you in the loony bin!’
‘You did? When? What happened?’
‘What do you think? I came home unexpectedly, found that fortune hunter, waster of a miserable wreck of a subhuman, Jason, in bed with an under-aged trollop! They were having it off in my studio! My inner sanctum! It was sacrilegious. I lost my mind completely. Picked up the nearest thing – a pot of paints and a painting. I fairly crowned him with it, I can tell you that. Once my fury was unleashed, there was no stopping it,’ she sniffed. ‘I kept going. Chasing the pair of them naked around the room. They managed to escape straight onto the street. By then I had a kitchen carving knife. They tore down the road in their pelt, both of them screaming in different directions. Oh, the spectacle. Naturally the police arrived in full force. I was arrested. Screaming he should be too – having it off with an under-aged Lolita! Here we are. Let’s hope they’re not having a wake. I need some live entertainment,’ she said, pushing me ahead into the foyer.
‘Oh, go on. Do have another drop, darling,’ she said, pouring wine from the second bottle she had ordered.
‘No, Kitty. No! Two glasses is more than enough for me,’ I said, putting me hand over the half-full glass.
‘I love dessert wine, Sauternes. Hmm! Delicious,’ she said, slurping, then smacking her lips, wiping them with the linen serviette.
‘Yeah, so do I, Kitty. Just as well you’re in the money. Or we would be stuck washing up in that back kitchen for the rest of the night,’ I said, taking a long sip of me tasty wine.
‘Oh, money is no object, darling. Eat, drink and let’s be merry. For tomorrow we die!’
‘Yeah. Talking about graves, you seem to have a penchant for old geezers.’
‘I do? Who?’
‘Are you joking, Kitty? What about aul Kelly, Alan Kelly?’
‘Oh, what a scream!’
‘Yeah, you were mad about him. Jesus, Kitty, for the life of me I couldn’t see what attracted you.’
‘Oh, he, he was very glamorous! He used to take me to all these posh dos. He was a politician, you know. Hmm, until he dropped me for that tart from Ballsbridge. She was a fashion model. All eyes and no tits,’ Kitty said, munching on a piece of limp lettuce, then slopping it onto the plate, looking sour and gloomy.
‘We know. But the trouble started when you wouldn’t give up!’ I said, starting to laugh, feeling it hit me belly. ‘You found out he went horse riding, then had the idea we could follow him. See what he’s up to,’ you said. I started roaring laughing, remembering us chasing him up and down the fields in Wicklow.
‘Remember, Kitty?
We used to hire out the nags at the stables where he kept his. Oh, my Gawd!’ I said. ‘Every Wednesday without fail we turned up. I even got a book on horse riding. I used to practise at home with the kitchen chair. Jaysus, Kitty! He was old enough to be your grandfather!’ I shrieked.
‘Oh, don’t remind me!’ she howled, laughing her head off. ‘But you see,’ she said, breathing in to explain to me.
I watched her lovely brown curly hair fall forward to land on the white linen table cloth. She gathered it up, throwing it behind her back, then leaned on her hand, showing her lovely manicured red-varnished nails. Mine never look like that. I just cut them, leaving well alone.
‘He had that aura of power,’ she breathed in a whisper, letting her eyes shine and stand out of her head. ‘Waiters would walk backwards, grovelling, doing his bidding. I loved it! It is a wonderful aphrodisiac.’
‘Yeah, until the day I had to take you up to the hospital for the tetanus injection.’
‘Yes!’ she snorted, fixing the big slide on her hair. ‘I was in shock. But then you put the boot in by telling me I might lose the leg. I believed you!’ she hissed, letting her mind wander off, getting a faraway, mournful look on her face, still feeling she had a close shave with death!
I screeched laughing.
‘Gawd! Your sense of humour is wicked, Martha Long!’ she roared, laughing and slapping the hand off me.
‘Yes, and you were a spoilt wilful daughter who became a spoilt wilful wife, who inherited a fortune and lost it just as quick. Because you are crazy! Just like meself, Kitty Johnstone,’ I said, lowering me head up and down, staring at her with a half-smile on me face.
‘Hmm!’ she said, thinking about it. ‘So what do we do for an encore? You have done your stint in the loony bin. I have loved and lost. And will no doubt continue my track record. It is all written in the great tapestry of life. I am determined to live life to the full before I die,’ she said, guzzling down the rest of her wine. ‘What about you? What plans have you? Look for a job? A man? You could always pose nude for me and when they ask at one of my exhibitions to meet the demure nude, intrigued with the hidden depths behind those dark-blue eyes, I will recommend only the crème de la crème, telling them where to find you. What about it?’