Two Days in Biarritz

by Michelle Jackson

  “Mum, why can’t everyone just let me get on with it. I love making food and I want to see if I can make a go of a little business on my own.”

  Lily shook her head in dismay. She didn’t have quarter the resources or income that Annabel had when she was rearing her family and she couldn’t understand her daughter’s actions. She had assured Colin that she would talk some sense into Annabel but now on the evening before the market it looked as though it was too late for that. She had never known Annabel to be so strongminded about doing something on her own. She had always found it easy to steer her daughter in the right direction before.

  “Will you have a cup of tea, Mum?” Annabel was anxious to change the subject.

  “Go on then, a quick one. It’s getting late.”

  Annabel poured the water from the kettle into her blue and white china teapot.

  “Have you any news about Betty?” Lily asked.

  “I haven’t been speaking to Kate,” Annabel replied awkwardly.

  “Why ever not?” Lily demanded. “This is the very time you could be helping the Carltons out, instead of running around doing silly markets.”

  Annabel sighed. Was her mother ever going to drop it? “I have been trying to ring Kate. I told you she doesn’t answer my calls.”

  “She’s probably noticed you’ve lost the plot too,” Lily replied sarcastically.

  Annabel clicked the roof of her mouth with her tongue.

  “What was the row about exactly?” Lily probed.

  “I don’t want to go there, Mum, it’s just something that happened years ago.”

  “She’s always been a very good friend to you,” Lily droned on. “You should be investing time into your friendships instead of –”

  “Don’t say it, Mum,” Annabel interrupted. “Just don’t say any more.”

  * * *

  “Come around, now!” Kate pleaded. There was no one else in the world that she felt she could talk to at this minute. A few weeks ago she would have lifted the phone to Annabel straight away but now she didn’t even have her.

  Fabian knew the difference. He knew when Kate was really upset or just throwing a tantrum. He jumped in his Renault, almost forgetting to turn the headlights on in the twilight. When he got to her backdoor it was worse than he had expected. Kate was already dressed in a housecoat. Black tracks from her mascara slid down her cheeks.

  “Cherie!” Appalled, he rushed to her side. “What is wrong? Is it your mother? Tell me vite!”

  Kate ran the palm of her right hand up over her nose then searched distractedly for a tissue. Fabian took some kitchen roll from the counter-top and handed it to her. She still said nothing but used it to wipe the tears away.

  “Kate, please,” he whispered softly.

  She looked up at him. Her eyelids drooped at the corners. “I’m pregnant,” she uttered.

  “Mon dieu!” Fabian was aghast – this was a complication of massive proportions. “How did this happen?”

  “It happens when a man and woman have sex,” her words causing her to laugh briefly.

  “But who is the father?”

  Kate sat speechless. Images flashed through her mind. She hadn’t slept with Stefan in over a year and anyway, they had never managed to conceive in all their years together. She hadn’t slept with Shane because she wanted to wait until it was right. Until he was free.

  “There is only one person who can be the father,” she sobbed heartily into the snotty piece of kitchen roll. “The surfer in Biarritz!”

  Fabian took a sharp intake of breath. He jumped up to get her a fresh piece of tissue paper. “Here, Kate,” he said, handing the tissue over. He felt inadequate to handle this situation – his gay friends didn’t have pregnancy complications as a rule.

  “I can’t believe it,” Kate cried. “What am I going to do?”

  “You don’t have to have it,” Fabian suggested gently.

  “I was reared on Catholic guilt – I never thought I’d ever have to contemplate something like an abortion,” she gulped. “Especially at my age.”

  “That is another reason why you may not want to take a risk.”

  “I’ve only just turned forty – lots of women have their first baby at my age,” she snapped.

  “Sorry!” he winced.

  “No, Fabian, I’m sorry,” Kate said softly and she stretched out her hand to hold his. “I can’t believe this is happening to me, just when I thought I was getting back on track with Shane.”

  “Well, maybe he won’t mind?” Fabian flicked his wrists in the air.

  “I think two sons from a previous marriage is enough baggage, don’t you?”

  “Kate, you have to think about an abortion. It is not a good time with your mother so ill and all the other things happening in your life.”

  Kate knew that Fabian was right but she didn’t know how she could handle it at the moment. There was too much going on and this was the last straw. “Fabian, I know this may sound strange but I really thought I would never get pregnant again. I mean nothing happened for Stefan and me. I thought there was something wrong with him. Then when he got his assistant pregnant I thought there must be something wrong with me.”

  “But you have the boys!”

  “I know but sometimes people get pregnant by fluke,” she groaned. “Anyway, this is not something I can just wipe out like a bad hairdo. Besides . . . I always wanted a little girl . . .”

  “Too many problems for one night, Cherie,” Fabian sighed gently. He stroked the side of her face gently – then he combed her hair back behind her ears. “I am going to make a nice bath with a lot of bubbles and then I will pour you a glass of wine and bring it to you, would you like?”

  “Thanks, Fabian,” she replied softly. “I’m so lucky to have you . . . but do you mind making a cup of tea instead of some wine. I’ve been feeling ill all week after drinking wine and now I know why.”

  “Of course,” Fabian smiled. “A cup of tea it is.”

  * * *

  Shane crept quietly through the dimly lit house. He’d been in Barcelona and Glasgow earlier. He threw his keys on the kitchen table and went over to the tap to get some water. He missed her like a limb already. It hadn’t even been a full day since she left for Toulouse but he was counting down the hours until she returned.

  “Shane!” Natasha’s lyrical voice called from upstairs.

  Shit, he thought – she’s awake.

  “Yes?” he hollered.

  “Would you bring me up a glass of water?”

  “Yes, up in a minute.”

  He carried the glass up the stairs, all the time thinking and wondering how he was going to get out of sleeping with his wife for yet another night. It was nearly two weeks since they last made love and she was watching her ovulation dates carefully.

  “I’ve been trying everything to stay awake,” she smiled. “Thank God you’re home. Come to bed quick!”

  Shane felt an incredible pressure bear down on him as Natasha stared at him like a prize bull. He definitely didn’t want to make love to her now. As each day passed he questioned whether he ever wanted to make love to her again.

  “I’m really tired,” he blurted out. “Do you mind if I stay in the spare room?”

  Natasha sat up in the bed. “Yes, I bloody well do mind! What is wrong with you this last week, Shane?”

  “I’m really busy in work – I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re always really busy in work, so what is really wrong? We’re trying for a baby, and you need to be having sex to do that!”

  Shane put his hand up to his forehead. He hadn’t wanted to say anything to hurt Natasha, but he couldn’t let her go on with false hope. His feelings had changed and he didn’t want to bring a child into the world with her while he was so uncertain.

  “Now is not a good time.”

  “Why isn’t it a good time?” Her voice was starting to quiver. “This is very fickle of you. You can’t just turn around and say, I don’t want a ba
by this month but I did four weeks ago!”

  Shane knew she was right but there was no easy way of saying it. “I’m not as sure as I was last month and I just want a bit more time to get used to the idea,” he gulped. “That’s all.”

  Natasha flumped back on her pillows as if she had been given a sharp slap and she didn’t like it one bit. She was good at getting what she wanted and Shane had never reneged on anything that she had ever wanted before. She would make him pay for this. “Go into the bloody spare room then! I don’t want to look at you at the moment!”

  Shane was glad of the escape. Serious guilt was beginning to settle in his stomach. He needed to be braver and figure out a gentle way of letting Natasha down. She had done nothing wrong and he had to think everything through before he finished his marriage.

  The spare room smelt dank and lonely. He felt he didn’t deserve any better for hurting Natasha. He warmed as he crept under the covers and images of Kate flooded his head. He prayed for a solution to his dilemma. He wanted Natasha to be happy and Kate to be back in his life fulltime but had no idea how any of it was possible.

  * * *

  Annabel placed the last batch of humus on the top of the large cardboard box.

  Rosa was still in her pyjamas and she had Rebecca by her side.

  “Thanks for looking after the kids,” Annabel smiled at the Spanish girl. “Bring them down later to see their mum at work!”

  Rosa nodded her head and set about preparing the children’s breakfast.

  Annabel slammed the door of the jeep and set off for the harbour. It was only a quarter past eight and already most of the stall-holders were rigging their canopies and stands.

  She settled beside Marcel, the French choclatiére, who gave her a friendly wave.

  “You got a stall then!”

  “Yes, thanks,” she beamed. “It’s great.”

  “You are lucky no rain today, and sometimes the wind – puff!”

  Annabel smiled. The market traders were warm and welcoming, waving at her from all directions.

  Business was slack until about half past ten when the market officially opened. Then the people swarmed like bees around a honey pot. Annabel sold the first carton of humus with pride.

  “Thank you,” she said politely, taking the five-euro note from an elderly lady with a tartan carrier bag and giving a coin back in change. She was thronged with customers for three hours and didn’t see the time pass.

  Rosa eventually arrived with the girls in tow. The girls skipped over to their mother, excited and amused at seeing her in her new role.

  “Where’s Sam?” Annabel asked Rosa.

  “He wanted to stay and play with his PlayStation.”

  “It’s going well here, I can’t believe it but I’m nearly sold out. I didn’t make nearly enough.”

  “Would you like me to get you a cup of coffee?” Rosa asked, pointing to a stall over on the other side of the road.

  “That would be lovely. Actually, can you get me a latte?”

  Her daughters ran behind the stall and started pointing at the box full of blue and brown euro notes.

  “Mummy, you’re very rich!” Rebecca said.

  “Thank you, darling! Yes, Mummy made that money today!” she said proudly to her daughter.

  When Rosa returned she took the paper cup from her appreciatively. She hadn’t noticed the cold setting into her hands until she held the warm cup and she understood why so many of the traders were wearing fingerless gloves. She tittered to herself as she pictured Melissa seeing her in this new guise.

  “I will take the girls to the playground, Annabel.”

  “Thanks, Rosa,” she said appreciatively. “See you later, girls!”

  “Bye, Mum!” her daughters called as they walked away, getting smaller and smaller until they were specs in the distance.

  By three o’clock Annabel was getting tired and she only had a few cartons of humus left. Some of the larger traders were closing up their stalls and getting ready to go.

  Then, out of the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure walking towards her stall. He was the last person she expected to see at a market like this but he was on his own and wandering, like a lost soul, from stand to stand.

  It took a few moments for him to recognise his daughter’s friend in such unfamiliar surroundings. He was sure it was her when she waved at him. He strode over to her stall with speed and alacrity.

  “Annabel, hi, I never expected to see you here –” Damien paused. “Well, at least not behind a counter.”

  Annabel grinned bashfully. “It’s my new venture, part of turning forty and doing something for myself.”

  “Good for you,” he said and pointed down to the small hexagonal containers filled with different pastes. “What is it?”

  “Humus. That’s lemon and coriander and that’s sun-dried tomato –” She stopped when she realised the futility of the information she was giving. “You’re not a big humus man, I’d imagine.”

  “More your steak and chips!” Damien agreed with a nod.

  They both laughed, pleased to be meeting on their own terms and not in connection with Kate.

  “I hope you didn’t mind my ringing – I’m worried about Kate.”

  “So am I,” Annabel sighed.

  “I really need someone to tell me what’s going on with her. Philip thinks I’m being selfish but she’s acting like her mother’s cancer is my fault.” Anguish showed in Damien’s voice.

  “I think she must be very stressed,” Annabel nodded. She hoped her guilt didn’t show. “How is Betty? I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.”

  “She is in denial. She thinks she can fight this cancer on her own but the disease has eaten through most of her organs – it’s a very hard time.”

  “If there’s anything I can do . . .”

  Damien nodded his head appreciatively. “How is life for you, Annabel?”

  “Picking up since I started doing this!” she smiled. “It’s busy with three kids but I needed to do something that wasn’t based around them and their activities, if you know what I mean.”

  “Good for you, I hope it’s a great success.” Damien pointed at the small dishes again. “And judging by the way these have sold, it looks like it is already.”

  Annabel was consumed with pride. Damien had changed little in all the years she had known him. He still managed to make her feel in a way no one else could.

  His brown eyes twinkled as he stood back from the counter. “I’d better head,” he said. “Betty wanted me to get a special jam that apparently I like!”

  Annabel nodded. “It was good to see you.”

  “I hope you make it up with Kate, whatever it is.”

  “So do I,” she replied. So do I

  * * *

  Kate sat up in the bed and glanced at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. It was Stefan’s idea to have it against the wall at the end of the bed and she decided there and then to move it. She barely recognised herself. Had this happened because she turned forty or was it because she was pregnant at forty?

  Fabian was a rock, she loved him dearly, but the one person she really needed help from at the moment was gone. Annabel was the only person she could speak to about something as traumatic as this. She had managed to block her out in the hustle and bustle of everything else going on but, sitting on her own in the Pyrenees, she missed not being able to pick up the phone and hear her friend’s voice at the other end of the line. The sense of loss filled her until tears started to trickle down her face. She thought she had cried enough the night before but that was probably only the beginning. Decisions had to be made, things had to be done and she didn’t know where to start.

  Annabel would have told her gently and firmly how to tackle this situation. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Annabel’s face. Should she have the baby or abort it? They were really the only two options open to her. Financially she could manage a baby on her own. The exhibition woul
d pay for a nanny and support her for a good eighteen months. She thought of Stefan and wondered if the news would affect his feelings on the settlement. He was happy to give her the house at present as she was the injured party but if he discovered that she was pregnant he might not feel so generous. Then there was the overriding matter of Shane. There was no way she could tell him the truth at the moment. She wasn’t sure how he would take the news.

  “Oh, Annabel, I miss you!” she cried out loud. “Why did you have to sleep with my father?”

  Her crutch was gone. She would have to sort her life out on her own in future. She felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life.

  * * *

  Rosa spread a dollop of homemade strawberry jam on her toast.

  “What are your plans for your day off?” Annabel asked as she started to clear the breakfast plates away. Rosa had already taken the children to school.

  “I might go into the city and maybe visit the Guinness, eh, hoop store?”

  “The hop store, that’s a great idea, Rosa,” Annabel agreed. “You’ll find it very interesting. Colin, can you give Rosa a lift into town so she can get the Luas from Connolly Station?.”

  “I can do that,” Colin said, lifting his head from a pile of papers that he was checking over. “I’m going in about ten minutes.”

  “Thank you, Colin,” Rosa smiled coyly.

  “I’m going to the gym,” Annabel said as she slipped out the kitchen door. “Have a good day, you two.”

  Colin grunted without looking up and Rosa nodded her head.

  “So, how are you liking Ireland?” Colin asked, his tone lightening as his wife left the room.

  “Very well, thank you,” Rosa’s cheeks turned pink. “I think I am lucky I have good family.”

  “I think we are the lucky ones getting you to look after us, Rosa,” Colin snorted. “Do you want to go now?”

  “Any time,” she smiled.

  Colin swaggered out to his Mercedes coupé with his briefcase swinging by his side. Rosa was impressed to be having a ride in his car at last. As she opened the passenger door, the smell of leather from the plush cream seats hit her.