by Imelda Evans
Kate sat down again with a bump. Was it possible for a conversation to be less expected than this one? It sounded as though Sophie had given Alain a tougher time for what he did to her than she had herself. But it also sounded as though Sophie and Alain were still very much together. What was going on?
So engrossed was she in her thoughts that Kate didn’t notice when Alain crossed the room to her. It wasn’t till he took her hand that she realised he was kneeling on the floor in front of her.
Her heart flew to her mouth, burning all the way. Or maybe it was bile. She certainly felt nauseous enough. Then, with her next breath, her brain caught up with her instincts, and she knew that, whatever he was kneeling for, it wasn’t for that reason.
‘Kate . . .’ Alain’s voice was quiet, and he seemed to be having trouble finding words again. ‘Kate . . . were you expecting me to propose to you that night?’
Kate looked down at him and felt her anger ebb away. He was looking at her as though he really cared about the answer, and she suddenly found that she actually wanted to have this conversation. She wanted to know what had gone wrong between them.
‘Yes, Alain, I was. What was I supposed to think? We’d been together for a year. Was it so odd that I might think, when you said you had something to say to me, that it was about making things permanent?’
Alain pulled himself up onto the couch next to her and sighed. ‘No, of course not, when you put it like that. Oh Kate, you must think I am such a bastard!’ To her surprise, Kate found herself smiling. Alain had actually used the word ‘bastard’ and it amused her to think that, wherever their paths took them in the future, she had apparently left at least one mark on him, even if it was only a piece of Australian slang.
‘Actually, yes, Alain, I did think you were a complete bastard. Can you understand Jo and Josh’s reaction to you now?’
Alain’s expression darkened at the mention of Josh, but Kate jumped in before he could voice the question she could see forming on his lips.
‘Oh, no you don’t, Alain. You do not get to ask anything about Josh. In case you have forgotten, I’m not the one who is supposed to be explaining here.’ She took a deep breath. She was calmer than she had ever expected to be while having this conversation, but the question she was about to ask was still not going to be easy.
‘So I take it you never intended to propose to me?’
Alain swallowed, but had the grace to look into her eyes as he replied. ‘No, Kate. I’m sorry.’
He had spoken softly, and he really looked sorry too, but it didn’t help. Before she had seen him this morning, she had known that there was no future for them. A little voice inside her said that she’d known that for a while now. But oh, the difference between being the dumper and the dumped!
She stood up and moved away. Her pride demanded an answer to another question, but she couldn’t stand to look at him as she asked it.
‘What does Sophie have that I don’t, Alain? You haven’t known her that long. What about her was so right that you would get rid of me to be with her? What about me was so wrong?’
‘Actually, she is a lot like you, Kate.’
Kate spun around to face him.
‘What?’
‘Really, Kate, I mean it. She’s loyal and kind like you, she’s passionate about a lot of the same things you are, she even likes the same music . . .’ He tailed off. ‘Kate, why are you looking at me like that? You know all this stuff about Sophie. She’s your friend, after all.’
‘Not any more!’ Kate retorted. ‘But that’s not the point, Alain! If Sophie’s so much like me, why did you want her? Was I too staid? Too serious? Had I worn out my warranty? Did you trade me in for a younger model?’ Kate was getting angry again. This made no sense.
‘She’s actually older than you, Kate.’ Alain sounded a little peeved himself, now.
‘What?’ Kate snapped. ‘What do you mean she’s older than me? She’s barely started her doctorate! In case you have forgotten, Alain, I finished mine some time ago and completed my post-doc and am now lecturing.’ Kate smacked her head, as something occurred to her. ‘Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me! Maybe I threaten you, now that I’m your peer. Maybe you can only cope with students.’ She snorted. ‘Is that it, Alain? Poor Sophie! Will you trade her in, too, when she gets too educated?’
Alain looked as if he could cheerfully have smacked her, but, with a visible effort, he controlled himself and spoke calmly.
‘Kate, I know you have plenty of reasons to be mad at me, but that isn’t fair. She is NOT younger than you. Not everyone goes straight from school to university to doctoral studies. Surely she has mentioned the time she spent travelling?’ Alain paused, and Kate remembered that Sophie had actually spoken about her time off study. But she was still too angry to give him a civil answer, so she didn’t speak. Alain shrugged and went on.
‘And as for me not being able to cope with your level of education . . . Kate, do you not know how proud I was of your achievements? Did you never hear how much I bragged about you, about how great I thought you were to be able to lecture at university level in your second language? For God’s sake, Kate, our admiration of you was one of the first things that Sophie and I ever talked about!’
Kate was stunned. In her head, she heard her mother’s voice, saying Kate, you are too hard on yourself. You need to learn to hear compliments, as well as criticism. Had she really heeded her advice so little? When she rejected her mother’s lifestyle, had she thrown out her love and acceptance as well? Alain was saying that he had always admired her, and she had no reason to think he was lying. With the notable exception of his relationship with Sophie, she had never known him to lie. Yet it was news to her. What else had she not known about their relationship? About him? About herself?
She felt her way into the armchair behind her and sat down again. Her anger had deserted her once more, and she needed something supporting her if she was to have any hope of finishing this conversation in one piece.
‘So what was it, then? If I’m so great, why did you want her instead?’ Her voice sounded reedy and petulant, like a disappointed child’s, even to her own ears. She hated it, but it couldn’t be helped. The way she felt, she was lucky to be getting any sound out at all.
Alain passed a hand over his eyes.
‘Kate . . . Kate, I . . .’ He seemed to be having trouble talking, but Kate waited quietly and more or less patiently. She needed an answer to this question. She could wait all day, if necessary.
She waited for what felt like a long time, although it was actually only about thirty seconds. Finally, he blurted out, ‘She wants to have children.’
What? Had she heard him correctly? Was that supposed to be an answer? No. NO! She needed something better than that. She needed an answer that made sense.
‘Alain, what are you talking about? She wants to have children? What does that mean? Do you think I don’t?’
His voice was quiet as he replied.
‘Not with me, Kate.’
‘Did you ever ask me, Alain? Did we ever have this conversation? How dare you make that judgement for me!’
Alain remained calm, which incensed her even more.
‘Kate, I didn’t have to ask you. You talked about it often enough.’
‘What?’ He was talking gibberish.
‘Kate, don’t you remember when we had Jean-Luc and Michelle and the baby around to visit last month? Don’t you remember how we were talking about children, and you were saying how you loved France, but that when you were ready for kids, you planned to go back to Australia? You went into some detail, Kate. You said that you wanted your kids to grow up Australian. You said you wanted their heritage to be gum trees and kookaburras and the cricket on Boxing Day and the footy grand final in September. You wanted them to have Christmas at the beach and insane magpies in the spring and to not know the meaning of real cold.’
Kate was silent. She did remember.
‘You said that, Kate.
That, and a whole lot more. And that wasn’t the only time you said it, either. Whenever kids have come up, you’ve said much the same thing.’
Kate was still sitting, motionless, in her chair, trying to come to terms with what he was saying to her. Alain had stood up as he spoke but now he crouched on the floor next to her and looked up into her face.
‘Kate, my family has lived in Paris for seven generations. You know that. You’ve always known that. You know how important that place is to me. It’s more than a place. It runs in my veins the way Australia obviously runs in yours. I loved you. I still do, in many ways. But I couldn’t give up Paris for you. And if we had stayed together and had a family, that’s what I would have had to do. Well, either that, or ask you to give up your plan for your children. And that didn’t seem right.
‘Kate, I should have talked to you about this. I know that now. I was wrong to decide what you wanted without asking you. But you seemed so definite! You’re always so definite about going after what’s important to you and this seemed really important. I couldn’t see a way out of it.
‘Then I met Sophie. And there was something about her . . . and she’s Parisian, too . . . Kate, it seemed so right. Except for the part where it meant hurting you.’ He took her hands again, and Kate looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.
‘Kate, I can’t be sorry that I met Sophie. I love her. I loved you too but this is different. I don’t know why, but I know it’s true. It’s partly about the children, but it isn’t really about logical reasons. I wish I could explain it better, but can you understand, even a little? Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?’
Looking down into the face she had loved – and realising with a jolt that she, too, was using the past tense, now – Kate thought maybe she did understand, a little. After all, her infatuation with Josh made no sense, but it was still real. In spite of everything that was crazy about it, in a way, it was even more real than what she had had with Alain. So yes, she could understand.
The difference was that there was not going to be a happy ending for her and Josh. How could there be? But that was no reason to deny one to Alain. For the sake of what they had had, if for no other reason, could she not give him what he had come for? Maybe even Sophie deserved her help. She had, after all, valued Kate’s friendship enough to send her lover to the other side of the world to mend his fences with Kate before he built new ones with her.
She squeezed Alain’s hands and from somewhere, managed to summon a smile. He tentatively smiled back, looking hopeful, but apprehensive, as though he couldn’t quite believe that she was smiling at him.
‘Alain, I have spent a year of my life loving you, and two weeks hating you. I know which time made me happier.’ She sighed. ‘I guess you’re right. I guess our plans were too different for us to make it. But it was good while it lasted, and I don’t want to hate you any more. And I realise now that I never really hated Sophie. You can tell her from me that I only ever really blamed you.’
He made a face that was halfway between a smile and a grimace and Kate smiled.
‘Alain, I do forgive you. You handled this about as badly as anyone could, but then, maybe I did too. At least now I know you were trying to do the right thing. Much as I hated you at the time, no-one can really ask for more than that. Go home. Go, and be happy with Sophie. Make little French babies for me to play with.’
Alain pulled her out of the chair into his arms and held her close as he replied.
‘Kate, thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.’
Kate pushed him away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
‘Yeah, well, don’t go all soft on me. Unless I’m very mistaken, you have a phone call to make.’
If Kate had had any worries that she was doing the right thing, the glow on Alain’s face as he thought of giving Sophie the good news would have silenced them. She was happy for them, even though, when she thought of her own love life, her heart felt as if it were made of lead. Was she ever going to be in love with the right man at the right time? She gave Alain a push.
‘Go on, then! Don’t keep her waiting.’
Alain looked down at her. ‘Are you sure, Kate? Are you all right?’
Kate took a stab at a couldn’t-care-less toss of her head.
‘Don’t flatter yourself, Devereux! I’ll be fine! Go!’ She pushed him again, and kept pushing until, laughing, he set off down the hallway.
At the door he stopped and turned to hug her once more, and kiss her on both cheeks. Then he left.
Kate closed the door and leaned against it, exhausted. She had meant it when she had said she was happy for him. It sounded as though he and Sophie had found that elusive animal known as true love. Half their luck. May they live happily ever after.
Now, if only she could believe that she would, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Eventually, Kate managed to peel herself away from the door and totter back down the hall to the kitchen. She looked at the platter of goodies, but she still couldn’t summon any interest in food, so she put it out of sight in the fridge. Her orange juice, which had been freshly squeezed and appetising a while ago, was now looking distinctly tired and unappealing, so she poured it down the sink, smothering another wave of nausea as she did so.
Then she didn’t know what to do. She tried lying down, knowing that she needed sleep, but sleep refused to come. So she tried to read a book. She gave up when she realised that she had ‘read’ three pages and could not remember a single word on any of them. She tried to pat the cat, but Cleo was sensitive to moods and wasn’t having a bar of Kate’s. She arched her back and made her disapproval plain when Kate tried to pick her up from the windowsill. Kate couldn’t blame her. In her current mood, she could empathise with a tendency to hiss and spit.
She could have called Jo. She felt as though she should call Jo. But she wasn’t sure that Jo would understand, and much as she wished Alain well, she didn’t have the energy or the inclination right now to defend him to her best friend.
She knew who she wanted to call: Josh. But what would be the point?
She didn’t doubt he’d come if she called him, and he’d hold her, and soothe her wounded spirit. And that would be lovely – but where would it go from there? Nowhere good.
Kate leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window and admitted to herself that that was a lie. Holding Josh would lead to some things that were very good indeed. That was the problem. Even if she were the kind of person who could have casual sex, there would be nothing casual about sleeping with Josh. She was already hopelessly in lust with him. If she slept with him it would push her over the edge into love. Capital ‘L’ Love. This leap wasn’t a bungee, where there was some chance of coming back up. This was a lovers’ leap, complete with jagged rocks at the bottom. She couldn’t take that leap and then leave. She couldn’t.
So much for having a fling. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it appeared that she wasn’t very good at them. Or maybe she had picked the wrong flingee. Whichever, she couldn’t be casual about the way he made her feel.
Which left her with the problem of what on earth she was supposed to do now.
She still had a bit over a week left of her holiday. Could she continue seeing him, knowing that it would just make it harder to leave at the end of that time?
Could she bear not to?
Was it even her decision?
Their planned week was over. He had committed to spend time with her for a week for her mum’s benefit, but he hadn’t said anything about what happened after that. There was no guarantee that he would be available, even if she wanted him to be. He might prefer to go back to one of the many other women he apparently had scattered all over town. Or several of them, perhaps. It might make her sick to think of it, but if he wanted to she couldn’t stop him. It wasn’t as if she had any rights.
She had no plan for this situation. She didn’t even know where to start. And
given how close she was to that rocky cliff, it seemed foolhardy to go looking for him without one.
So, she couldn’t call him. Not yet. Not until she had worked some things out. She would have to find some other way of clearing away the weary fog that had settled on her soul.
Finally, after literally walking around in circles a few times, looking for something she could settle to, she grabbed her jacket and headed out. Maybe some fresh air would blow the mist away.
She decided to take the stairs. After the week she’d had, she wasn’t sure she was ever going to feel comfortable about getting in a lift again. Besides, the exercise would do her good.
The stairs in Jo’s building were steep and narrow, almost as though they had been squeezed in as an afterthought, but Kate didn’t mind. She headed down them two at a time, jumping with a bump onto the tiny landings, bouncing off the walls on the turns and picking up speed with every step. It felt good. Maybe if she could keep up this momentum, she could outrun the blanket of gloom that was threatening to smother her.
With that aim in mind, when she got to the last flight, she bypassed the lobby and opted for the door that opened straight onto the street. She paused for the briefest second to gather herself, then, taking the last four steps in a single leap, she cannoned into the door and tumbled out into the smudgy winter daylight.
It wasn’t until she had straightened up and the door had swung closed behind her that she realised that someone had been leaning on the door when she burst through it. That person was now sprawled at her feet, a mobile phone still clutched in his outstretched hand, looking winded, shocked and pleased to see her, all at once.
It was Josh.
Kate’s chest clenched and she pressed one hand to it and took a deep breath to try to make the feeling go away. She really would have to do more exercise if going down a few flights of stairs was enough to give her palpitations. With the other hand, she reached out to Josh, to help him up. He waved her away, though, as he had already rolled onto his feet and was in the process of gracefully unfolding himself to stand next to her.