“Yes,” Catherine said, quickly buttoning up her shirt, her fingers fumbling as Marc watched her.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I could unbutton that shirt all day long. All night long too.”
“Marc,” Catherine said steadily. “There is something between us but it’s not real. It’s the past. It’s a moment in time where we both were once. A moment that meant a lot to us then, a time we’ve both often wished we could revisit, but I think maybe that’s only because our lives now aren’t going the way we want them to, not because we still have feelings for each other. It’s that summer fifteen years ago that’s between us and all the heat and passion we felt then. But it’s not real, Marc. How can we feel anything real for each other when we don’t know each other at all?”
Catherine could feel the heat in Marc’s eyes as he looked at her. “Maybe you’re right, but does it have to matter?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, wide-eyed. “Of course it matters. We don’t feel anything for each other. I don’t love you, Marc.”
For a second Marc looked stung, but then his expression became still and thoughtful.
“I loved you once a long time ago, but I don’t suppose I love you now, I don’t see how I can when I still love Alison,” Marc said, looking up at Catherine. “I still want you, though, more than anything. Loving her isn’t enough to stop me from wanting you.”
He leaned forward again to kiss her but Catherine stood up.
“If you love Alison, then why do you do this? Why have you tried so hard to see me again if it wasn’t because you thought that being with me again was going to somehow save you? You said you moved your whole family back to Farmington to find me when the only woman that can save you is the one you can’t be faithful to.”
“I do this, I say all of this because …” Marc sighed. “Because I wanted to have sex with you again, you’re a very desirable woman. And because that time we had together back then when you were seventeen was special to me, it was a time when I kidded myself I could be just like any other man out there, happy and content. But even that memory is a deceit. After all, it wasn’t so special that I didn’t sleep with someone behind your back. Not so special that I didn’t leave town with a girl who I didn’t know was pregnant and because I guessed that you were. Catherine, a lot of the time I like to think that I’m misunderstood, that my nonexistent childhood scarred me and made me into the kind of man I am. Sometimes I like to think that if only I’d met the right person, stayed with the right person, then I could be a decent man, the man I pretend to be. But I think it’s time I stopped pretending to myself as well as everybody else. I’m the man who, loving his wife as much as he does, still pursues other women. I want you, Catherine. Even though I know it’s wrong, right now I don’t care, because I want you and I think you want me.”
As Catherine looked at Marc, the sixteen intervening years since she had last kissed him settled quietly on his shoulders and he looked his age. Why Marc’s saying everything that she already knew upset her quite so much she didn’t know. Except that once she had carried his baby and cried for them both when they were taken from her. And because when she’d told Jimmy to leave, it was the thought of kissing Marc in the back of her mind that had partly spurred her on to end it, because she had to end it properly with Jimmy before she could explore any feelings she had for Marc. To discover so quickly that she didn’t have any was quite a blow.
“I think you should go,” she said.
Marc drank the remainder of his glass of wine in one swallow and stood up.
“That’s a shame,” he said. “I’d thought we could both help each other through this period of transition.”
“That’s just it,” Catherine said. “For me this is a period of transition. For you it’s your life, this is what your life will always be, moving from one woman you don’t love to the next. I don’t want to be one of them.”
Marc nodded and shrugged on his coat.
“Funny,” he said, “how people are always so keen to tell me how to live my life. It used to be Alison, then it was my son, then it was your husband, and now it’s you. You’re all the same.”
“It’s not the same,” Catherine said. “Alison, Dominic, and even Jimmy tried to help you because they care. Because they want the people that love you to have a chance to be able to keep on loving you. But I don’t care. I really don’t care what you do next, Marc.”
“You feel pretty good saying that to me, don’t you?” Marc said with a hint of smile.
Catherine thought for moment and smiled at him.
“Damn right,” she said.
“Hello, darling,” Marc said to his wife as she appeared at the end of the path with Jimmy, whose shoulders were hunched against the chill of the evening despite the pint or so of hot coffee that was swilling around inside him.
“Hello, dear,” Alison said, taking his appearance completely in her stride. “Pleasant evening?”
Marc hesitated and looked at Jimmy.
“Your wife despises me,” he said. “She wouldn’t have anything to do with me. So at least you know that.”
Jimmy nodded and stood up straight. He looked down at the rectangle of light where Catherine was standing in the doorway.
“You are supposed to be in London,” Catherine said.
“I know, but I needed to tell you something work-related,” Jimmy said. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to declare my undying love to you again. I got the message.”
“Come in, Jimmy,” Catherine said. “It’s good to see you.”
Both Alison and Marc looked back at the smile on Catherine’s face as she let Jimmy in and closed the door behind him, narrowing the rectangle of light into oblivion. The pair of them stood at the end of the path looking at the shut door.
“So you didn’t score, then?” Alison asked her husband.
“Nope, did you?” Marc asked, catching the wistful look on her face.
“No,” Alison said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that you can’t stand in the way of your best friend and true love.”
“And when did you learn that?” Marc asked. “Sixteen years ago this summer?”
“No,” Alison said. “Just about an hour ago, as it happens.”
Marc nodded. “Can I walk you home?”
Alison shook her head. “No, I think I’ll stick around a bit longer in case I’m needed. If you could go back, though, that would be good, next door’s au pair will be wondering where I’ve gone to.”
“Leave her to me,” Marc said.
“Croatia? On tour?” Catherine exclaimed. “Well … I mean, wow, Jimmy, that’s great news! Of course we’ll miss you, but you must go, eight weeks isn’t forever, the girls and I will manage, they can always phone you and email. You do know how to use email, don’t you?”
“I’ll learn,” Jimmy said without enthusiasm.
“Well, then,” Catherine said. “Well done.” She hugged him briefly and as she released him she briskly rubbed his upper arms. “Well done, you!”
“Thanks,” Jimmy said, looking at her. “On tour at last with a fairly famous band. Dreams do come true.”
“Yes they do,” Catherine said, furious with herself that it was such an effort to be happy for him, because after all it was because of her he was leaving, because of her he couldn’t stay. She could at least try to give him a good send-off.
“So can I go up and see the girls, I know it’s late and a school night, but …”
“Go,” Catherine said. “Go and wake them up. It’s more important they see you.”
Catherine sat on the top stair and listened as Jimmy talked to the girls, his voice low, theirs high and questioning.
“How long is eight weeks?” Leila asked him. “How many sleeps is it? Is it farther away than Christmas?”
“No darling,” Jimmy told her. “I’ll be back by the summer in time for your birthday. And it’s not many sleeps, it’s about … well it’s a few sleeps.”
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“Is Croatia nice, Daddy?” Eloise asked him. “Are the people kind?”
“Croatian people are the nicest people you could hope to meet and it’s a lovely country, with mountains and a seaside and lots of sunny weather,” Jimmy said. “Not that I’ll be seeing much of that what with being a creature of the night and all.”
“Like an owl?” Leila asked.
“Pretty much,” Jimmy said.
“I don’t think I want you to go,” Leila said eventually, her voice very small. “I think I’ll miss you too much, Daddy.”
“I’ll miss you both too, darling,” Jimmy said. “So much. But I sort of think I have to go.”
There was a long silence and when Catherine peeped through the crack in the door she could see the three of them hugging one another desperately. As she watched the three of them together, it was as if the sun were already rising in the room.
“Okay, now,” Jimmy said eventually. “You two had better get back to sleep, okay? I’ll speak to you really soon and Mummy said I can even send emails to you. The time will fly by and when I get back I’ll have about a million presents for each of you, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” Leila said sleepily. “I’ll pray for you. Love you, Daddy.”
“And me, Daddy,” Eloise added. “I love you too.”
“Love you too, love both of you too,” Jimmy said. “See you later.”
Catherine had crept back downstairs before he came out of his children’s bedroom. When he did emerge Jimmy stood outside the closed door for quite some time, waiting until he could hear them breathing steady and slow, as they drifted back to sleep.
“Right, then,” Catherine said. “Got your passport? Because it would be awful if you got there and didn’t have your passport and had to come home again …”
“Yep,” Jimmy said. “I picked it up from the boat earlier, so no danger of that happening.”
“Is it still valid?” Catherine asked.
“Amazingly enough yes.” Jimmy chuckled. “I had to renew when we went to Spain with the kids and Mum, do you remember? That was the last holiday we had …”
“Travel insurance?” Catherine reminded him. “You need travel insurance, can’t travel without it.”
“The band takes care of that. They need it what with all the guillotines and swords. Turns out the undead are very safety conscious.”
“And you’re all packed?” Catherine said, aware that she was starting to sound like an overprotective parent.
“Two pairs of jeans, my jacket, a shirt, and a T-shirt,” Jimmy said. “If I’m careful I won’t have to do any laundry.”
They smiled at each other and then, as they remembered what was happening, their smiles quickly faded.
“Is there anything else you wanted to say to me?” Jimmy said after a moment.
Catherine looked at him for a long time and thought of about one thousand things she wanted to say to him but didn’t think she could, because she wasn’t exactly sure why she wanted to say them and they were all things that had to be said for exactly the right reasons.
“No,” she said.
“Okay, then,” he said. “I think I’ll go.”
“There won’t be a train for at least another half an hour this time of night,” Catherine said. “Why don’t you wait here for a bit longer?”
“Anything in particular you want to say to me in that half an hour?” Jimmy asked. Slowly Catherine shook her head once.
“Then I have to go now,” he said.
“Right, then,” Catherine said.
“After I’ve done this,” Jimmy told her.
And then quite without warning he took her in his arms and kissed her. Not on the cheeks or quickly on the lips like he sometimes did. He kissed her properly, deeply, thoroughly, and passionately, his arms pulling her body into his as if for those few brief moments he might absorb her right inside of him. And just as Catherine found herself kissing him back he broke the embrace and walked out the back door.
“Jimmy, wait …” But before she could say anything else he was gone.
Twenty-nine
Catherine felt as if she should be dreaming, as if she should be having one of those dreams where you absolutely know you’ve got to be somewhere doing something that is completely vital but you can’t remember what it is and the more you try to get there and the more you try to remember what it is the more you realize you are never going to make it. She felt like she should be having one of those dreams, only she was wide awake. All at once she was completely wide awake.
At the quiet knock on the back door she flew out of her chair, scrambling for her keys to unlock it.
“You came … Alison,” Catherine said, her face falling. “Jimmy’s gone to Croatia, he’s gone.”
“I know, that’s why I’ve come,” Alison said, and she smiled. “I was going to climb in through the window for old time’s sake, but I thought that might push you over the edge.”
“You know that he’s gone to Croatia?” Catherine asked.
“Yes, he told me in the pub,” Alison said. “How do you feel about that?”
“How do I feel?” Catherine said, a little dazed. “Oh, well I’m pleased for him, of course. And he certainly needs the money for a deposit on a flat.”
“Catherine,” Alison said, inviting herself in because Catherine clearly wasn’t going to. “He’s not here now. It’s just you and me. So tell me, how do you really feel?”
“I want him to come back and stay here and not go to Croatia,” Catherine said, desperately leaning against the counter. “I don’t want him to go, but it’s not fair, is it? What right have I to hold him back just because I don’t want him to leave? I haven’t got any right, have I?”
“No,” Alison said. “Unless you happen to love him, for example? Because if you do, then he has the right to know.”
Catherine stared at Alison opened mouthed, as if just for that moment she had been frozen in time.
Finally, she was able to speak. “How can I tell him one minute that I don’t love him and then, just as his big dream is about to come true, tell him that actually now that he’s about to leave me I might love him after all. I can’t stand in the way of his dream again. He hated me for that before and he’ll hate me for it again.”
“He won’t hate you for telling him the thing he most wants to hear,” Alison said.
“But I’m over him,” Catherine protested. “I don’t care about Donna Clarke in the Goat anymore. If I think about it, I don’t feel anything at all.”
“That means you are over that,” Alison said. “Not that you are over him. That means you have forgiven him, that you know that it didn’t mean anything to him to be with her and that if he had you again he wouldn’t ever, ever need anyone else. That means that you two have a chance to be together without any shadows of the past hanging over you, no bitterness or unfinished business. That means you should get your coat on and run after him right now. Because you love him and you finally have a chance to be happy.”
Catherine looked at her. “Why are you helping me?”
Alison smiled at her. “Because you are my best friend. Look, his train is leaving in five minutes so it’s decision time. If you want to go I’ll wait with Leila and Eloise till you get back.”
Catherine hesitated for a moment and then she grabbed her coat and ran.
Her chest heaved and her lungs screamed as they filled with the cold night air, and for the first time in her life Catherine wished that her legs were longer and that she was even lighter and thinner than she was, so that she could run just a little faster to find her husband.
And then suddenly Catherine stopped, as she gulped at the damp night air.
“What am I doing?” she asked herself. “What if it goes wrong? What if he doesn’t love me? What if me chasing after him now is one big terrible mistake?”
She stood there frozen to the spot and she heard the blood pounding in her ears, the chill of the air against her skin, the water
from the pavement soaking through her slippers, and in that one gloriously uncomfortable moment she felt utterly alive, as if all the energy in the world was for that briefest of times flowing solely through her. And Catherine knew she could only feel that way because she loved Jimmy, and if loving him was a risk, then this time, finally, it was one she was brave enough to take.
As she skidded into the station, she heard the rumble of the London train above her head pulling in.
“Jimmy, wait!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the empty underpass. “Wait!”
As she approached the steps that led up to the platform, she slipped in a puddle and lost her footing for a moment, falling to her knees for a few precious seconds. As she finally plummeted onto the platform, the train screeched to a halt.
“Jimmy!” Catherine looked up and down the length of the platform. It was empty. “Jimmy!” she called again.
Just then the alarm sounded as the doors were about to close. Making a split-second decision, Catherine leapt on board.
It was completely empty except for one boy in a hooded top, his head lolled against the window, his mouth open as he snored. For a split second Catherine wondered if Jimmy had gotten on the train at all, and then she realized that of course he had. He hadn’t believed that he had any choice. Catherine had to find him and she didn’t have much time, because in a few minutes the train would stop once more and then there would be no more stops until London.
He wasn’t in the second or third carriage that she stalked through, her long coat flapping around her, her slippers slapping on the carriage floor. But he was in the fourth one, staring bleakly out the window, looking pale and tired.
“Jimmy,” she said as she arrived in front of him, sitting down with a sway and a thump.
Jimmy looked at her.
“I’m still a little bit drunk,” he said. “Are you actually there or am I hallucinating?”
“Jimmy, I’m so stupid,” Catherine began, the words tumbling out of her. “And I know I don’t have the right to ask you this, but please, can I talk to you?”
“Why?” Jimmy asked her, frowning. “What more is there to say?”
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