“Just bring me home, would you?” Kate snapped.
The journey back to Greenfield Close, Clontarf, was more silent than the outward journey.
Chapter 7
Annabel hung up. She was tired of listening to the phone ring out in Kate’s house. She picked up the phone again and dialled a different number. She booked an appointment with Daniel for two o’clock. He would breathe enough life into her hair to get her through her first day of being forty.
“Would you like me to do anything for you this morning?” Rosa asked, disturbing Annabel from her thoughts for a moment.
“No, thanks, Rosa,” she replied absent-mindedly. “Why don’t you take the afternoon off? You’ve been a great help.”
“Gracias, Annabel.”
The phone rang out and Annabel lifted it promptly.
“Mum, hi . . . I don’t have to collect the kids today, they’re going to friends . . . I’d love that – why don’t we meet in the Golf Club at one? Yes . . . I’ve given her the afternoon off – that’s fine, bye!” Annabel put the phone down and decided to do something positive to pass the hour until she met her mother.
It was a beautiful day for the beginning of April, and a walk along Howth pier was just what she needed. She changed into her runners and set off through the colourful village that was now a vibrant commercial centre with a vast array of restaurants and gift shops to attract the incoming tourists.
The Irish Sea lapped gently against the concrete walkway as she started her stroll down the pier. Outside the harbour mouth Ireland’s Eye sparkled like a jewel, a rich assortment of brown and green hues. The sun was surprisingly bright for so early in the year and Annabel slipped her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose. The waves made gentle gushing sounds that reminded her of Biarritz and Nico – and his Adonis-like physique. The memory of their passionate liaison was far removed from her life in Howth. She found it hard to believe that it had really happened. She turned her thoughts to Damien. The thought of him helped her get through the days when she questioned why she was spending her life with a pompous prat like Colin. Turning forty meant little to her now, and a meal in Ella’s with Melissa Bond was all she had to look forward to.
In the distance a familiar figure was walking towards her. He looked considerably older than the last time she had seen him, but that was at least five years ago. A tall lean woman with peroxide-blonde hair walked at his side and as he neared Annabel was sure it was him – Philip. His hair had thinned beyond recognition and he had put on some weight but his eyes were still the same.
Annabel quickened her step and caught up with the couple.
“Philip, Philip Carlton!” she shouted, waving as she called.
He held out his arms affectionately as she approached.
“It’s great to see you!” Annabel said enthusiastically, giving Kate’s brother a bear-hug. “Hi, Gloria, I’m Annabel – we met briefly a few Christmases ago in the Carlton’s.”
“Hi, I remember you, Annabel,” Gloria replied in her distinctive American twang. “How are you doing?”
“Great, thanks, are you guys over on a holiday? I was with Kate only a week ago and she never mentioned that you were visiting.”
“My mum’s ill. Did Kate not tell you?” Philip asked in surprise.
Annabel shook her head. “No – oh my God, what’s wrong?”
“She has breast cancer,” Philip informed her sadly. “I’m surprised Kate hasn’t been on to you. She was operated on, on Tuesday.”
Annabel shook her head. “Where’s Kate?”
“She’s here,” Philip replied. “She came over on Monday.”
Annabel realised that, as it was now Friday, Kate had no intention of phoning her. It made perfect sense now why her phone was never answered in the Pyrenèes.
“No, I had no idea. It must have been really sudden!”
“Yes, she went for a check-up last week and they insisted on operating quickly.”
“Has it been a success?” Annabel couldn’t believe she was asking these questions.
“Unfortunately, they have to do more tests – they’re afraid it may have spread.”
“Poor Betty!” Annabel said, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I’m sure Kate will ring you in the next day or two,” Philip assured her. “It’s all been a bit manic in Clontarf since I got home. Kate has no plans to rush back to France.”
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Philip.”
“Thanks, Annabel. I’ll tell Kate that I bumped into you.”
Annabel leaned forward and embraced him warmly.
“Goodbye, Gloria,” Annabel said sadly, giving her a token hug too. “Bye, Philip.”
The couple continued on their walk and Annabel returned home to collect her car. She didn’t hear the sea or smell the salt on the way back – her thoughts were of Kate.
She drove slowly and distractedly to Howth Golf club.
Her mother was there before her and had already ordered a club sandwich and a Caesar Salad.
“Poor, Betty! I can’t believe it!” her mother said, shaking her head.
“Neither can I.”
“It’s strange that Kate didn’t ring you – isn’t it?”
“I guess so, but she must be under a lot of pressure.” Annabel certainly hadn’t the courage to fill her mother in on the details of the row with Kate.
Lily was deeply moved by the news. Betty and she were similar in age and they were not unalike in character either.
“I’d better order, Mum?” Annabel asked – keen to change the subject on seeing the effect the news was having.
“Yes, do,” Lily replied vacantly. “Before I forget, Happy Birthday, love.”
* * *
It was Betty’s wish that the house was kept spick and span while she was hospitalised and fulfilling her wishes was the only thing keeping Kate’s thoughts away from the severity of her mother’s condition. She had become accustomed to ignoring her mobile phone when it rang in case it was Annabel, but she needed to keep in touch with the galleries in Paris while she was away so now she took a quick look. The number wasn’t familiar, so she answered quickly before it turned onto her voicemail.
“Hello!”
“Hi, Kate?”
“Yes!” she recognised his voice straight away but didn’t want to believe it was him.
“Kate, it’s Shane!”
“What a surprise! How are you, stranger?” Her voice had lifted an octave. A bolt of lightening would have been more expected than a phone-call from Shane Gleason.
“I bumped into Annabel last Saturday. She said she was with you in Biarritz and gave me your number, so I thought I’d give you a buzz!”
“Good to hear you! God, it’s been a while!”
“Too long, I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch after the last time we met up. Time goes by so quickly,” he said apologetically.
“It’s okay,” Kate sighed. “Actually, I’m having a manic week – Mum’s in hospital – she has cancer.”
“Oh, no, Kate!” The shock was clear in Shane’s voice. “I’m so sorry to hear that – is there anything I can do?”
“There’s nothing anyone can do at the moment, I’m afraid.”
“Was it sudden?”
“Pretty much so – she only went for a check-up last week and this week she’s in Cornhill after a double mastectomy.”
“Are you coming home?” he asked.
“I am home. I’m in Clontarf at the moment. I was trying to distract myself by doing housework.”
“You, housework?” he said in surprise.
“I know! I’m going mad, Shane,” Kate sighed.
“Can I call out and see you?” he pleaded. “I really want to help.”
“There’s nothing you can do.” Kate paused. “But I would like to see you.”
“It’s your birthday on Sunday, isn’t it?”
“You remember!” she smiled.
“Yours is probably the only birthday
I do remember. I don’t even remember my wife’s.”
“How is Natasha?” Kate asked curiously.
“She’s fine,” he said briskly. “When is a good time to call out? I’m on the other side of the city now.”
“You’ll have to get your visa before you cross the Liffey,” she teased.
“I’m sorted. I’ve a duel passport. What about tomorrow?” he asked, anxiety showing in his voice.
“Actually tomorrow would be good. Philip and his wife are over until Sunday and that frees me up a bit.”
“Will I come out to the Close?” Shane suggested.
“Yeah. Do you still remember the house?”
“I don’t think I could ever forget your house, Kate!” he replied reminiscently.
“Is eleven too early?” Kate was excited at the prospect of seeing him again. It was so unexpected and yet just what she needed.
“Perfect, see you at eleven.”
“And Shane . . .”
“Yes, Kate.” His tone resembled chocolate in stereo.
“I’m really glad you rang.”
“So am I,” he said sincerely – then hung up.
* * *
“Have a nice night,” Colin said, his arms full of golf clubs. “Simon and I will be back on Sunday.”
Annabel nodded at her husband from the hallway, where she watched him fill his Mercedes with his bags for the weekend.
“It’s a shame you aren’t staying around for my birthday.” Annabel felt she had to say it, even though part of her was glad that Colin was going away.
“You’ll have a much nicer time with the girls!” he called from the car.
“I’m only having dinner with Melissa!” she said, hostility brewing in her voice.
“Oh, yes, of course,” he replied, stepping back into the hall. He leaned forward and gave her an awkward peck on the cheek.
“Happy Birthday!” he said as he took a package out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I hope you like them.”
Annabel thought he had forgotten to get her a gift and took it with surprise and relief. She opened the jeweller’s bag that held a small red velvet-covered box. She snapped open the lid and fingered the diamond studs resting on the tiny tray.
“Thanks, Colin, they are really sweet!”
“There’s a carat in each earring, so don’t lose them!” he guffawed.
Annabel wanted to throw them in his face but decided it was best to say nothing. He always ruined gift-giving by informing the recipient of the cost.
“Bye, and be good,” he called, his countenance beaming at her through the tinted glass of the car.
Annabel leaned against the frame of the front door and watched him drive away with a mixture of disgust and relief.
“Will I give the girls a bath?” a voice called from behind.
Annabel turned around.
“Yes, Rosa, that would be good,” she nodded. “I’ll be going out in a couple of hours.”
She had plenty of time to shower and apply her make-up – she wanted to look her best. Ella’s was a trendy bistro in the middle of the village and it wasn’t unusual for the cognoscenti of Howth to gather there on a Friday evening.
A while later, Taylor and Rebecca ran into her bedroom smelling of soap and dressed in their pyjamas.
“Are you going out?” Taylor asked.
“Yes, darling, but I won’t be late.”
“How come we didn’t get to sing you “Happy Birthday” and blow out any candles?” Rebecca asked innocently.
“We can do that tomorrow evening if you like.” Annabel knelt down until she was at eye-level with her youngest child. “We can go to Casa Pasta with Gran – you love it there, don’t you?”
“Yummy, Mummy!” Rebecca threw her arms around her mother.
Funny, Annabel thought to herself. She didn’t feel like a Yummy Mummy tonight. Instead she felt every minute of her forty years.
Rosa came into the bedroom, armed with books.
“Would you like a story?” she asked the girls and they followed her out of the room.
Annabel went into her son’s bedroom to bid him goodnight but he was fixed in front of the TV screen playing with his PlayStation.
“Night, Sam!” she called.
“Bye, Mum,” the lad replied, not looking up from his game. “Happy Birthday!”
“Thanks, Sam.” Annabel could see her little boy turning into a teenager before her eyes.
It had been a sombre day and she planned to lower a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to get through the evening. She grabbed her coat and house keys and set off into the cool evening air. It was exactly a week since the night in Biarritz when she had made a fool of herself and lost her best friend.
She rambled down the hill to the cosy restaurant. As it came into view she noticed more bodies than usual through the foggy glass. The door was made of walnut-coloured wood and glass and she had to lean heavily against it to open it. When she stepped inside the lights went out for a moment, giving her a shock.
“Surprise!” shouted a harmony of voices.
The waiter hit the switch and illuminated the gaily-painted bistro until every face in the restaurant was visible. Each and every person in the bistro was female and associated in some way to Annabel.
Melissa dashed over and hugged Annabel extravagantly. “Happy Birthday! I managed to get everyone here tonight!”
Annabel was gob-smacked. “I don’t know what to say, Melissa!”
“Don’t say anything,” Melissa grinned, handing over a glass of red wine.
Annabel scanned the room and waved at the various women dotted around the long U-shaped table that had been specially prepared for her birthday dinner. For a brief moment she thought she saw Kate over in the corner but then realised it was only Meave Jenkins. One by one the guests came over, bearing gifts in expensively decorated packages. Each manicured and pampered woman was as beautiful as the one before. Annabel noticed that a couple of girls she was friendly with were missing – this group had all been handpicked by Melissa and reflected the Who’s Who of Howth rather than the women Annabel really liked. As she sat down at Melissa’s right-hand side with Leslie Godkin (another mother of force at High Grove School) at her other side, she realised that she wasn’t really like any of these women. Maybe she looked like them and dressed like them and she probably did much the same things as them, as she went about her daily business – but that was where the similarities ended. Annabel couldn’t say, hand on her heart, that these women were her friends. They were a collection of trophy wives whose identity was measured by their husband’s income.
Annabel picked at each course in turn and drank copious glasses of red wine. Towards the end of the evening, Meave Jenkins came over and sat down by her side.
“Meave, it’s good of you to come,” Annabel said, sounding like a broken record.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Meave grinned. “Melissa was planning tonight for ages.”
“She’s too good,” Annabel agreed, grappling to show sincerity in her voice.
“I was wondering when Kate was going to show.”
“Kate?” Annabel asked, with a glimmer of hope that her night would truly be made special in some way.
“Yes, I bumped into her in Supervalu.”
“When?” Annabel was interested to know every detail.
“I think it was Monday, actually,” Meave replied pensively. “Yes, I was doing the pick-ups from ballet – I presumed she was over for your bash.”
“Did you tell her about this evening?” Annabel asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Meave replied. “But I took it she knew. There aren’t that many of us from the old school still around but we all managed to hear about tonight.”
“Her mother has cancer, Meave,” Annabel informed the surprised woman. “Maybe she didn’t feel up to it.”
Annabel hoped that explained her absence but deep down realised that Melissa probably never informed her of the party
and Kate wouldn’t have come even if she had been told.
“I don’t believe you!” Meave said, aghast. “She never said anything about her mum to me! She told me she was getting divorced though. God, she must be in the horrors!”
“It must be a tough time for her alright,” Annabel agreed. She secretly wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
“It makes you appreciate how lucky we are when you hear things like that, doesn’t it?” Meave said.
Annabel nodded. “I’d better do some mingling, being the Birthday Girl and all!”
“Of course, off you go!”
Annabel knew the night wouldn’t be complete without Moet and true to form, as she looked around, Melissa was popping the corks. She beamed across at Annabel as a huge pink birthday cake decorated with dozens of sparklers and candles appeared from behind the kitchen doors. Annabel fixed a false smile on her face to the strains of “Happy Birthday” and hoped she could make it through another couple of hours before she escaped to the refuge of her bed.
* * *
Butterflies flitted inside Kate’s stomach as she woke the next morning. She tried to picture Shane’s face and grinned when she caught his image in her mind’s eye. She jumped out of bed and ran into the shower. The warm water was refreshing and massaging against her body. She dried herself off and dressed in a pair of jeans and the top Annabel had bought her in Biarritz. She knew she looked well in it and her disgust with her friend didn’t extend to Annabel’s powers of colour co-ordination. She threw herself on the bed and picked up the phone to make her first call of the day to her mother.
“Hello,” a bright voice at the other end of the line replied.
“Hi, Mum,” Kate said cheerfully. “How are you feeling today?”
“I am feeling really well. I haven’t a pain or an ache,” she said. “They really are marvellous in this hospital. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Yes, Mum.” They were giving her mother morphine in tablet form and it was no surprise that she was feeling so well. “I won’t be in until later tonight. I’m meeting up with Shane Gleason, would you believe!”
“Oh, dear sweet Shane, what a lovely boy!” Betty sighed. “I’ll never forget the day you broke off with him. He was the nicest fellow you ever brought home.”
Two Days in Biarritz Page 9