by Sharon Owens
‘And your name is Tom, I believe?’ she said, smiling up at him. He was very tall. He must have been six foot four to her five foot nine. Jasmine thought that Tom Lavery looked just fine, close up. Not nearly as weird as he’d looked that day rushing away down the road from Ruby’s shop.
‘Um, yeah, Tom Lavery. Have you ever been to Camberwell House, I wonder? Lovely place for a day out.’ Tom was blushing like mad. He hadn’t meant to mention the house to Ruby and her friend Jasmine, but he’d been telling thousands of people all day and somehow it’d just slipped out.
‘You know what, I don’t think we ever have,’ Jasmine said, all big eyes and fluttering eyelashes.
‘We haven’t been there yet, no,’ Ruby muttered darkly.
‘Hey, Ruby, we must go to this Camberwell place and check it out some day,’ Jasmine said, giving Ruby a gentle nudge in the ribs with her elbow.
‘Oh yes, definitely,’ Ruby smiled back, giving Jasmine a daggers glare from behind her white sunnies. ‘I can’t think why we haven’t been already, Jasmine. For you simply love old houses, don’t you?’
‘I do surely,’ laughed Jasmine. ‘The older the better. All those ceiling roses and secret passages hidden behind the bookcases. We’ll see you there, Tom Lavery; it’s a date. Thank you very much.’
Jasmine reached across the table and shook Tom’s hand warmly. He seemed rather surprised, but he rallied well and handed over some leaflets.
‘These will get you in half price,’ he explained.
And then, without quite understanding why he did it, Tom offered his hand for Ruby to shake also. Ruby gazed at his outstretched fingers for one stunned moment before politely placing her small hand in his larger, weather-beaten one. Tom’s large, strong fingers closed round Ruby’s trembling palm and immediately a surge of electricity shot up her arm and made her jump. So much so, her sunglasses fell off and clattered to the ground.
‘Oh sorry. Let me,’ he said, bending down to retrieve them, and the magic spell was broken.
As he handed Ruby her glasses, Jasmine winked and made a face behind his back. Ruby blushed furiously.
‘Camberwell is open six days a week during the summer months,’ Tom said, automatically falling back into salesman mode. ‘Monday is our closing day. Hot food served at all times and there are guided tours every hour, on the hour.’
‘Thank you very much for the leaflets,’ Ruby said quietly.
‘Now let’s have a peep at this maze of yours,’ Jasmine announced brightly.
‘Sorry, but we’ve run out of time,’ Ruby said sweetly. ‘Must dash. Bye!’
Ruby grabbed Jasmine’s elbow and hurried her towards the exit. Tom watched them go with a flicker of disappointment in his dark brown eyes.
‘Love is… an invitation to view ancient chamber pots,’ Jasmine said as she tumbled, laughing, out on to the pavement again, swinging her cactus merrily in its heavily punctured carrier bag.
‘I’m warning you, Jasmine Mulholland. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll fire you without a second’s thought,’ Ruby said bossily.
‘I’m sorry, Ruby,’ Jasmine said quietly. ‘But I couldn’t help it. Wasn’t he rather special? Very intense, you know? I think he has a bit of a crush on you, to be honest. He was blushing like a sixth-former on prom night.’
‘You’re stone mad,’ Ruby sighed. ‘You’re obsessed with romance. In fact, I think you should speak to somebody about it. It’s like an illness with you, it really is.’
‘Probably. I’ve been living alone for too long, that’s my trouble. I’m looking at love through rose-tinted specs. I’m sorry if I showed you up or anything.’
‘That’s okay.’
But Jasmine wasn’t a bit sorry. Wedding ring or no wedding ring, she wanted to find out a little more about Tom Lavery. After all, Ruby was still wearing her wedding ring. But she wasn’t married. Not any more… And there was definitely something there, Jasmine told herself stubbornly. There was definitely some chemistry between the pair of them. She could feel it. For heaven’s sake, she could see it. They were attracted to one another, she was convinced of that. Now the only problem was how she was possibly going to get Ruby O’Neill all dolled up, bundled into the car and off to visit Camberwell House without having to slip a sedative into her food. It wasn’t going to be easy. But she was going to have a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained: that was Jasmine’s motto.
Ruby was very quiet as they abandoned the hopelessly long taxi queue and caught a bus home. She didn’t even notice when a bunch of chattering schoolgirls in short skirts got on the bus and giggled furiously at their vintage-style dresses. She almost missed their stop, in fact, she was in such a daydream. Jasmine had to snap her fingers in Ruby’s face to wake her up.
‘Penny for them,’ Jasmine said as they limped up Raven-hill Road a few minutes later, their new shoes beginning to bite at last.
‘Oh, nothing important,’ Ruby replied. ‘I was just thinking that maybe we should have gone round the maze for a quick look after all. It wouldn’t have killed us to show some interest in it. And it did look very nice. I hope Tom didn’t think we were bored by his exhibit, that’s all. After all the hard work he must have put into it. He looked so tired. Didn’t you notice how tired he looked?’
Jasmine said nothing, but instead turned her face away so that Ruby didn’t see her smiling from ear to ear.
16. The Fourth Secret
When Ruby got the invitation to her old school reunion a few days after the flower show, she was tempted to drop it straight into the wastepaper basket and pretend she’d never seen it. For one thing she wasn’t keen to go anywhere near Muldoon village, even though the reunion was being held in the nearby town of Enniskillen and it was months and months away. But it was still a trip down Memory Lane and Ruby wasn’t feeling very keen on the distant past. Not these days since she still hadn’t made up with her parents. The guilt was smothering her like an old musty blanket. It kept her awake at night and in a permanent state of worry.
She hadn’t phoned her father much in the last six months and he had hardly phoned her. He hadn’t even sent her a birthday card! Though Ruby forgave him for that as he had so much on his mind. Then again, she thought, the old rascal could be playing for sympathy… But she wasn’t going to give in and start begging his forgiveness for their little spat. Or offering to act as a go-between. No, this time she was holding out until her parents underwent an epiphany of sorts and started acting their age. Even so, the situation had become so strained in Ruby’s mind that every time she looked at the phone in her flat she felt an awful fluttering sensation in her stomach. And sometimes she even felt nauseous, with a nervous flush that spread across her face and neck.
‘Am I supposed to report the two of them to Social Services or what?’ she asked Jasmine later that morning as they sat chatting over lunch in a café near the shop.
‘Search me,’ Jasmine said, tucking into her food. ‘All oldies are a bit contrary, aren’t they? Manipulative, some of them. Or else going a bit dotty? I mean, not senile exactly, but wandering a bit. Confused, I think they call it.’
Ruby decided to ignore that particular comment. The thought of being the only child of two estranged and senile parents was just too difficult to contemplate. But would they be able to divorce if they began to wander in their minds, she fretted.
‘Do you really think they’re going senile?’
‘Ah well, Ruby, I suppose they’re far too young for all of that just yet,’ Jasmine said doubtfully.
‘God, I hope so. I mean, what could I say to Social Services anyway?’ Ruby continued. ‘Hello there. Have you got a minute? Now what’s happened is my mum’s gone AWOL because she never got to be a big fancy career woman with her very own briefcase and all. And my dad’s sulking up a storm, and he’s let the housework go to the dogs. He’s smoking cigars all day long and he’s living on pepperoni pizza. And I want you lads to do something about it.’
‘It’s a tough
call all right.’
‘I mean, I can’t exactly ask them to give me a mother and a father from a children’s picture-book, now can I?’ Ruby sighed. ‘A lovely gentle daddy with a pretty greenhouse in the garden. And a contented mummy who’s always smiling, and baking big jam cakes, with a gingham apron on her.’
‘No, you can’t,’ Jasmine agreed. ‘They’d think you’d gone mad entirely.’
‘I mean, if Social Services went out to the house to do a spot-check and Mum was home again, then she’d know that I knew she’d been away. And then she’d be furious with Dad for telling me and maybe she’d go away again. And then he’d be raging at me, instead of her.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘It’s an impossible situation.’
‘It is. Could you not just go and visit again?’ Jasmine suggested then. ‘Just turn up with a Battenberg cake and a bunch of tulips? And let on nothing’s happened? Like your father said he wanted you to? She’s likely come home again by now and there’s no harm done.’
‘But that’d be playing along with their little game, do you see? That’s pretending that they’re both fine and dandy and in good mental health. I don’t want to go along with that.’
‘True. But if it’s what they both want then why beat yourself up?’
‘Yes, I know it’d be easier that way. But then I’d have to remember for the rest of my life not to mention the time Mum went off on a mystery Christmas jolly and left Dad on his own for months. And really that’s just too big an event to ignore, don’t you think?’
‘Who knows what other people’s marriages are like?’ Jasmine mused thoughtfully, pouring old-fashioned lemonade from a stylish glass bottle. ‘Maybe they get turned on by the drama of it all. Maybe the make-up sex is mind-blowing.’
‘Jasmine, will you please stop it? They’re both in their sixties,’ Ruby said, rolling her eyes. ‘I think they only had sex once and that was to have me. No, seriously, I just can’t see them roaring and shouting, and then stripping off and doing it halfway up the stairs. He’s too emotionally repressed and she’d be worrying about scuffing the skirting boards.’
‘Whatever. More lemonade?’
‘Cheers. Anyway is there any news on the romantic front for you this week? Any nice men discovered holding up the bar?’ Ruby smiled, anxious suddenly to change the subject. ‘I don’t want to think about my parents for a while. I keep imagining Mum’s been murdered somewhere and her body dumped down a storm drain. Or that Dad’s fallen on the stairs and broken his hip and he can’t reach the phone. Why can’t they be normal bloody parents and just phone me twice a week like other normal people phone their kids? Talk about the shit weather and the price of gas?’
‘Um, are we still talking about your parents then?’ Jasmine yawned.
‘No, sorry. Go ahead,’ Ruby urged.
‘Well, there’s been no serious romance lately, no. I met a nice-looking guy on my travels around club-land last week. But when I asked him home for a snog he went straight into the old lusty lunge. Reaching for me on the sofa like an octopus on speed.’
‘Did he really?’ Ruby said, all interested.
‘Yeah, he did. Two seconds in the door and he was in porno mode.’
‘Not even time for coffee and a chat first?’
‘No, sadly. He wanted me to do pervy things to him. Asked me to take off all my clothes and prance about in the shower. Feel myself up or whatever… He wanted to film me on his mobile phone. Like, yeah! He’d have it all online and pay-per-view before the sun came up. Fucking weirdo.’
‘Oh my God. You never told me this. Is that the norm nowadays?’ Ruby said, giggling.
‘Well, maybe it’s just me. Maybe I attract the fantasists.’ Jasmine liked a bit of raw passion, but she wanted friendship and sincerity as well.
‘Men have changed so much, or some of them have,’ Ruby said sadly. ‘Jonathan and I must have been together for six months before things moved beyond a kiss. Well, maybe it was four months. Well, it was three months definitely.’
‘It’s all quite different now,’ Jasmine said casually. ‘All these topless models giving raunchy interviews with one finger stuck in their mouths. They give the impression we girls are all mad for bondage and being spanked over the tumble-dryer. The poor guys are tormented. Like, I always knew they were sex mad. But now it has to be kinky as well. Me, I just want some good old-fashioned, no frills, honest-to-goodness sex. Preferably with a nice dinner beforehand and a civilized breakfast the morning after. No drugs and nothing too pervy!’
‘Indeed. And what’s wrong with that? I’m so glad I’m not dating, myself. So how did you get that guy out of your flat after his lusty lunge was rejected? Did he go quietly or did you have to kung fu him?’ Ruby asked. ‘I’m worried about you now, Jasmine. Maybe you shouldn’t let guys into your home any more. Not on the first night anyway. Just to be on the safe side?’
‘Ah, bless you, he just called me a flake and a tease and then stormed out. It’s funny how quickly you can go off a good-looking guy when he comes leering towards you with his mouth wide open and his breath still smelling of curry sauce and chips.’
‘Oh my God. What’s happened to romance?’
‘Once or twice I’ve had to set off my rape alarm. That fairly puts a stop to their kinky nonsense. Plus, I let a good, deep roar out of me! Half the building comes running!’
‘Christ, Jasmine, that’s hilarious,’ Ruby said, half shocked and half amused. ‘I can just picture you doing that actually.’ And then despite themselves the two women collapsed into hopeless giggles.
‘One guy fell down the stairs, he was that spooked,’ Jasmine spluttered. ‘Calling me all sorts. I said, at least I’m not as desperate as you are, mate… At least I’m still living in the real world, I told him.’
‘Jane Austen would be turning in her grave,’ Ruby wheezed. ‘Can you imagine what she’d have thought of pole-dancing and PVC hotpants?’
‘Yeah, well, in Jane’s day nobody ever really had sex. Only alcoholic prostitutes, God love them… And rich creeps who ended up dead of syphilis before they were thirty. C’mere, we’d better get back to the shop. Lunchtime was over ten minutes ago.’
‘Okay.’
When they got back, however, Ruby couldn’t avoid at least a small glance down Memory Lane. For there was a woman standing on the doorstep, looking pointedly at her watch, and also looking slightly disappointed. The warm summer sunshine made her red hair glow softly like an angel’s halo.
‘Teresa?’ Ruby asked gently, touching her on the arm. ‘It’s never Teresa Dunne?’
‘The very same. Except I’m Teresa Morris now. Ruby Nightingale, you haven’t changed at all. I was just in Belfast doing a bit of shopping and I thought I’d look you up,’ she said, nodding towards the shop window. ‘I heard you had your own business now on Ravenhill Road. Looks amazing!’
‘Thanks very much, Teresa. I’m glad you waited for us. We’re just a bit late getting back from lunch, that’s all,’ Ruby explained, handing the keys to Jasmine. ‘Open up, Jasmine, would you?’
‘Sure,’ Jasmine said, and she unlocked the door and left the two women to have their little chat outside in the sunshine.
‘So, Teresa, how’ve you been all these years?’ Ruby began. ‘You don’t look any different from when we were in school together.’ And she didn’t. The same flame-red hair and pink cheeks full of freckles.
‘Ah now, you’re too kind. Sure it was only fifteen years ago, woman. You look the same yourself. Except you’ve had your hair cut.’
They smiled at each other then, wondering how much they could say without sounding over-familiar.
‘I also heard you lost your husband?’ Teresa began.
‘Yes, it was eighteen months ago,’ Ruby said, colouring slightly.
‘God bless you,’ Teresa said gently.
‘Thanks,’ Ruby said simply.
‘I lost my own husband four years ago, in a farming accident. Did your parents not
say anything to you about it? We live not far from Muldoon village. I thought you might have sent a card? Maybe you did send a card, Ruby, maybe you did. But anyway I never got it.’
‘Oh my God, no. I never knew that,’ Ruby gasped, raging again at her parents for not telling her this huge news. ‘They must have assumed I knew already.’
‘Well, it’s no matter. The tractor overturned in soft ground and it fell on him. It was very sudden.’
‘Oh, Teresa, I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you, Ruby. You have to struggle on, don’t you? And I still have the five children to rear.’
‘Five children?’ Ruby was amazed.
‘Yes, two of his, two of mine and the one we had together. We were both divorced when we met, but his two children wanted to stay on the farm and their mother’s an actress away working in London so I just got on with it. They’ve all bonded now so when Mick died we decided to leave things as they were. She sends money and visits when she can. She’s not really the maternal type.’
Ruby suddenly felt slightly giddy… There she was, pottering about in her hobby-shop on Ravenhill Road, while out in the real world other people were struggling hard on a daily basis. Teresa Dunne, well, Teresa Morris was nothing short of magnificent.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Ruby said again.
‘That’s grand, thank you. But anyway I didn’t come here to bring you down, Ruby. What I wanted to ask you was do you think that you and me could rock up to the school reunion together? Us being young widows and all? Or have you met someone?’
‘No. No, I haven’t. Not at all,’ Ruby said guiltily. But she couldn’t help thinking about Tom Lavery. And then she was raging with herself for betraying Jonathan’s memory. And then she was raging at herself again for even thinking of her own problems instead of poor Teresa’s.
‘Oh right, that’s okay then. So what do you say? Shall we have a coffee some time and a catch-up? And if we’re feeling brave enough on the night, we’ll go to the reunion together, yes?’
‘The thing is, Teresa, I’m not really sure,’ Ruby faltered. ‘I might not go.’