Two Days in Biarritz

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Two Days in Biarritz Page 8

by Michelle Jackson


  The girl was Spanish, and from her resume she had nursery teaching skills and loved working with children. Annabel wasn’t concerned with any of the other details that the agency sent her – she was just pleased that the girl was coming so soon. She strapped Taylor and Rebecca into the car, breaking a fingernail in the process. Sam had already left for school a short time earlier on his bike. He was at that age where he was keen to exert his independence.

  Her BMW Jeep swerved as she approached the turn for High Grove Primary School. It was the unspoken educational establishment to send the local four to twelve year olds.

  She kissed her daughters goodbye, as she handed them over to Anne the Lollipop Lady outside the school gates. They could make their own way into class from there.

  The trip to the airport was as quick as could be expected for a Monday morning. She never beeped at other motorists but was sorely tempted when a Hiace pulled out in front of her on the motorway, causing her to swerve into the next lane. She had no idea why she felt so anxious now that the time was here and she was actually getting an au pair and the much needed help in her household. An uneasy feeling started to flutter in her stomach and she had to chastise herself for being so concerned. She was after all getting what she wanted!

  The arduous task of finding a space in the car park took twelve minutes – then she hastily made her way to arrivals.

  * * *

  “Damien, it’s almost a quarter past nine,” Betty called down the stairs. “Kate’s plane will be arriving soon.”

  “I know, love,” Damien sighed. He rubbed his rough chin slowly and considered having a quick shave.

  “Don’t be late!” Betty called again.

  “I won’t,” Damien sighed again.

  There was no way he could go upstairs and attempt to see to his stubble now. Betty was the type of woman who never let up when she got an idea into her head and now that Kate’s plane was due to land in less than an hour he couldn’t be seen to be tardy. He had spent most of his married life ignoring her little outbursts and continued doing his own thing, much to his wife’s chagrin. But since Betty was diagnosed with a tumour he felt he had to do as she wished. Deep down in a place where he seldom let himself travel he wondered if it was some sort of punishment. The guilt he felt for his numerous affairs and discrepancies over the years were coming back to haunt him now.

  Damien grabbed his tan pigskin jacket out from the cloakroom under the stairs and pulled it on. His car keys were on the hall table where he always left them. He tossed them in the air as he briskly walked to his Saab. With his Ray Bans on and seatbelt fixed he was ready.

  “Thank God, Kate’s coming home,” he sighed to himself. Nobody heard.

  * * *

  Annabel was almost on her toes trying to see over the sea of people waiting for passengers in arrivals. From her photo, Annabel recalled that the girl had a mop of curly black hair and big brown eyes, but she figured most of the young women coming off the Madrid flight would have those features. After a break in the steady stream from behind the glass doors, Rosa Gonzalez finally appeared. She was wearing a red raincoat over skinny jeans and knee-high boots. She had the face of an angel and Annabel knew instantly that she was going to get on with this young woman.

  “Annabel?” Rosa said, from behind her trolley which was laden with four suitcases.

  “Rosa!” Annabel smiled and gave her new house guest a welcoming hug. “Did you have a good journey?”

  “Si, I mean yes, gracias,” Rosa blushed under her olive skin.

  “We are only a few minutes from Howth,” Annabel informed her. “Let me help you with that trolley.”

  The two walked through the barrage of bodies in Arrivals and outside to the zebra crossing that led to the car park. The red man was flashing on the pedestrian lights but the green man was due to show up in ten seconds.

  * * *

  Damien had to park in Car Park C at the other side of the airport and hoped his daughter wasn’t left waiting for him. After trekking through Car Park B and A he walked up a few steps until he was on the road outside Arrivals.

  In the near distance he spotted a familiar figure with a foreign-looking girl. He wasn’t sure at first but when she turned her head slightly and her long blonde curls bounced around her shoulders, he was. He hadn’t seen her in a very long time but she was as beautiful as ever. What a surprise! He was sure that Kate would have informed Annabel that she was coming home to see her mother. He felt a desire to rush over and talk to her, but what would he say? There was always going to be that tension between them and he had learned to accept it. He decided instead to stand still as he watched her pay her parking ticket and disappear into the vast multi-storey car park.

  Damien rubbed his large strong hands through his hair which now had more silver threads than sand running through it. He always wore his hair longer than most men in the construction business. There weren’t many men of his age who could wear it that way but not many men his age had such thick strong hair. It was a long time since he had come home from work with concrete under his fingernails. His business had boomed with the Celtic Tiger and he now employed over a hundred staff, not including all the foreign nationals that were on contract. His new-found wealth hadn’t changed him and he still liked to don a hard hat and mingle with his staff on the numerous building sites that had work in progress all over the city.

  When he was sure Annabel was well out of sight he ventured into the Arrivals Hall. He towered above most of the people waiting for passengers to arrive. It was a great advantage and he spotted Kate easily as she walked briskly, pulling her case behind her. He stretched his arms out to greet her in his usual way but she seemed more reserved than usual.

  “It’s great to have you home, love,” Damien said as he kissed his daughter on the cheek.

  He reached out for a hug but was surprised when instead she handed him her case. Kate was usually so pleased to see him.

  “Pity it’s not in better circumstances,” Kate replied abruptly.

  She bit her lip as Damien took her case from her. She was going to have to be careful not to take out her angst on her father over the next few days. His affair with Annabel needed to be addressed at some stage but not while her mother was facing such a critical operation.

  * * *

  Rosa had never seen so many beautiful houses together before. There were many affluent areas in Madrid but the fact that Howth was surrounded by the sea made them all look even more beautiful.

  “I hope you like it here,” Annabel said, aware that the young girl had been silent for the best part of the journey.

  “It is very nice, Annabel,” she smiled.

  “I’ll show you around the house and then we have to pick Rebecca up from school. She finishes at one thirty, so there’s plenty of time for all that.”

  At the house, Annabel showed Rosa to her room and gave her time to unpack. Then she went down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee before organising the rest of her day. She wanted to try and call Kate again. She had been on her mind all the way to the airport. If only she would talk to her. She wondered if Kate was thinking of her in the Pyrènees. Then there was the matter of her birthday at the weekend. She was desperate to clear the air with her pal before Friday. If there was one person she wanted to speak to on that day it was Kate. And it was Kate’s birthday on Sunday . Her thoughts were disrupted by the telephone ringing.

  “Hello . . . oh, Melissa, hi . . . no, I got back on Saturday . . . yes, I was just collecting her, she’s lovely . . .” Annabel strummed her nails on the counter top while listening to Melissa’s shrill voice go on and on. She could clearly see her painted eyelids and heavily coated lashes in her mind’s eye. Melissa’s hair was platinum blonde and even at night she sported a pair of designer sunglasses on her head. “Well, why don’t you call in after school pick-up . . . this weekend?” She sighed silently at the thought of her birthday. “Well, I was planning on a meal with Colin on Friday night . . . oh, I didn�
�t realise that was on . . . at least Simon tells you about his golfing tournaments . . . Okay, we can go to Ella’s for dinner, that would be nice . . . see you later.”

  Annabel hung up. She was disappointed to hear that Colin had planned a golfing trip from her friend instead of from him, especially as it coincided with her fortieth birthday. He had all day Sunday to inform her but he was obviously still aggrieved that she had been away during the previous week.

  The sound of footsteps traipsing through her tiled hallway reminded her that Rosa was in the house.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” Annabel asked. “I’m just about to have one myself.”

  “Thank you, but you ‘ave coffee?”

  “Of course, whatever you like.”

  “Please show me where everything is, I need to learn,” Rosa smiled.

  Annabel was so glad that the girl was showing initiative, the last thing she needed was another child in the house. All the irrational fears that she felt at on the road to the airport drifted away. Rosa was going to be a great help.

  * * *

  The journey to Greenfield Close had been silent for most of the way. Kate was trembling as they approached the large red-brick house in the corner. She wanted to see her mother so much but was secretly afraid.

  Inside, her father carried her suitcase upstairs, leaving her in the hall.

  Kate was startled by the thin frail silhouette through the glass door of the kitchen – could her mother have lost that much weight?

  Then the door opened and Betty came out to greet her, her smile padding out her hollow cheeks a little.

  “It’s so good of you to come over, Kate,” her mother said, relief showing all over her ash-grey face.

  “Mum!” Kate exclaimed, unsure exactly what to say. The change in her mother’s physical appearance since Christmas left her gob-smacked.

  “I’ve just put the kettle on,” Betty said, obviously trying to make everything seem as normal as possible.

  Kate followed her mother into the kitchen which was always the nerve centre of the Carlton household. This was where Betty had spent most of her working days since Kate could remember. She was always there for her children and even now, with both of them gone, she spent her days waiting for them to come home. Kate felt a surge of regret for her mother and the way she had nurtured her family so well while her father was fraternising with a girl half his age.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m absolutely fine,” Betty said, brushing her condition aside. “How was your journey?”

  “It was a typical Airjet flight. Much the same as getting the Number 42 to Abbey Street!”

  “Oh, Kate!” her mother giggled. “I do so miss having you around!”

  Kate found it difficult to see the humour in anything at the moment. She wasn’t trying to be funny. “You never told me exactly when you found the lump, Mum.”

  “Oh, it was ages ago, but it didn’t hurt or anything,” Betty said in her usual dismissive way. “It wasn’t much bigger than a pea until Christmas but it’s been getting bigger ever since.”

  Kate’s mother was from a different era and there was no way she would show her daughter the lump, or give her any more details than that. It would be all tea and biscuits until after the operation was over.

  “Can I help in any way?” Kate asked. “I may as well make myself useful.”

  “Could you get me a few things in Supervalu?”

  “No problem, Mum.” Kate was delighted to have a task to do.

  Betty scribbled a few notes onto her notepad by the sink and handed it over with a fifty-euro note.

  “You can take my car,” she said with a nod.

  “Do you want me to go now?” Kate asked with surprise – she hadn’t even had the cup of tea her mother had offered.

  “I want to do a bit of a tidy up here,” Betty replied distractedly. She always found it easier to focus on housework when she felt anxious, which was most of the time.

  Kate felt it was best to obey her mother’s wishes, whatever they were. Her mother seemed to be in pain as she walked and, as she removed her buff-coloured cardigan, Kate noticed a swelling under her left arm. She was taken aback. It was the size of a tennis ball.

  Kate turned around as she heard her father enter the kitchen.

  “Your bag is upstairs in your room,” Damien said.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Kate said. “I’m heading out now – Mum wants me to go to the shop – but I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

  “Oh!” Disappointment was evident in his voice. “I saw Annabel at the airport with a foreign-looking girl. Does she know you’re home?”

  Kate winced at the mention of Annabel’s name. She quickly pulled herself together before her father noticed her reaction.

  “I haven’t had a chance to call her,” she said. It was easier than explaining why she hadn’t been in touch.

  “Such a lovely girl, Annabel,” Betty chipped in.

  Kate thought she was going to be sick.

  “I’ll be back soon,” she called, taking the car-keys off the table and walking briskly out of the kitchen.

  * * *

  SuperValu had changed little since her previous visit. She found a one euro-coin for the trolley and took her chances in the aisles of the shop. She wasn’t out of the bread section before she heard someone call her name.

  “Kate? Is that you, Kate Carlton?”

  She turned around to find Meave Jenkins pushing a trolley with a toddler strapped into the seat.

  “Meave, hi, it’s Cassaux now,” Kate said, smiling genuinely for the first time all day. “You look well! How are you?”

  “Great, thanks,” Meave grinned and then nodded down at the toddler in the trolley. “Well, knackered actually – having kids is exhausting! Now I know why all the seventeen-year-olds were spitting their sprogs out no bother, while we mums in our late thirties are crumpled up in agony.”

  Kate laughed. “But look at the experience you bring to parenthood!”

  “Shag that!” Meave said. “I’d give anything for a night’s sleep. I don’t know how you managed with twins!”

  “You forget the hard bits,” Kate assured her.

  “So, how’s your dish of a French hubby? Sorry for calling you Carlton – old habits and all that!”

  “About to become my ex-hubby, but he’s still a dish!”

  Meave was gob-smacked. “God, Kate! I am so sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s okay,” Kate smiled – she secretly loved shocking people.

  “I’d better dash, Kate,” Meave said quickly. “So I’ll see you on Friday night, for Annabel’s bash?”

  Kate tried not to act surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

  “It was good of you to come over for the night, but then again, you guys were always best friends,” Meave smiled. “It’s great that Melissa got your number to tell you about it – I didn’t think she knew you!”

  “There you go!” said Kate and added vacantly, “Good old Melissa.”

  When Meave disappeared out of view Kate felt a rush of anxiety creep up her neck and manifest itself in a rash. She hadn’t a clue what bash Meave was talking about and she didn’t want to know. Kate hoped that Meave didn’t tell Annabel that she was in town – but that was unlikely.

  She whizzed around the aisles, flinging tins into the trolley and keeping an eye out for anyone else that might know her. She had enough on her plate coping with her mother’s operation, without having to deal with bumping into Annabel.

  * * *

  The next day Kate and Damien drove Betty to Cornhill Hospital. It had an excellent reputation for the successful treatment of cancer but that was little solace to the three members of the Carlton family as they silently drove up the long gravel driveway to the Patients’ Admissions.

  “Have you bought enough bin-tags to cover the next couple of weeks?” Betty asked Damien as the car drew up to the front of the building.

  “Yes, dear,” Damien sighed. �
�Kate got four yesterday, remember?”

  “There’s just so much to plan before something like this!” Betty added curtly.

  “It’s okay, Mum,” Kate interrupted. “I’ll make sure the house is kept just the way you like it until you get back!”

  “It’s such a relief to have you here,” Betty sighed. “Thanks, love.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” Kate said in a businesslike manner as they stopped. “Just concentrate on getting better, please?”

  Betty nodded. Her eyes reflected the strain she had been carrying around inside for months. Her roots were redone the day before and her make-up was on as always – but somehow the illness echoed through her face.

  Damien opened the boot and took out his wife’s small case. Kate carried in a bag filled with fruit and bottles of water which she left at the reception desk. The three waited for Betty to be checked in.

  “This is a nice place,” Betty said, trying to be upbeat about her situation. “I always said if I ever had to have anything done this is the place I’d go.”

  They were lucky that the private hospital had agreed to take her so quickly, but Betty was adamant that she wasn’t going to a large public hospital like Beaumont.

  Kate looked on as her mother filled in the required forms with the precision and care with which she approached everything she did.

  “I’m ready now!” she said, standing up quickly.

  A mixture of emotions churned inside Kate as she hugged Betty and watched her walk away with the aid of one of the nurses.

  “Are you not going with her?” she asked her father.

  “No,” he said quietly. “She said she wanted to go on her own.”

  “That let’s you off the hook then,” Kate replied snidely.

  “Kate! That’s not fair!” Damien was shocked by his daughter’s remark.

 

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