The Last Goodbye

by Caroline Finnerty

  I wondered what lies he had told his wife to get here. ‘Sorry, darling, I promised to meet some of the lads for a few drinks’? Or maybe, ‘Sorry, darling, I’ve got to entertain some clients who are in London for the weekend’? I don’t think ‘Sorry, darling, I’m going to meet my mistress and her friends for a quick bite to eat’ would have washed somehow.

  “Well, don’t worry, you’re just in time. We haven’t started yet. Here –” She handed him a glass of wine before hurrying into the kitchen to put the pork belly back in the oven to warm it up again. She started plating up the now cold starter of fried halloumi with cherry tomatoes. We all sat down around the circular table.

  “God, this is good,” I said through a mouthful. “You can nearly taste the sunshine from those tomatoes. Where did you get them?”

  “In the market up the road.”

  “Did you see the footie today, Ben?” Will asked. He was necking back the wine – he’d only been here for five minutes and already his glass was empty.

  “No, I didn’t get to see it – myself and Kate were out looking at buggies.”

  After breakfast we had decided to tackle the minefield that was buggy-shopping. Ben had done a lot of research into the different types of buggies – manoeuvrability, ease of folding and tyre specs – but I, being a bit more shallow, just cared about what looked best. We had gone to a nursery store to road-test a few before we made up our minds.

  An awkward silence lapsed between the two men.

  “So how did the meeting go yesterday?” Nat turned to Will.

  “It was a fucking nightmare. The whole thing is a mess – it ended up being complete carnage and old Smithy was shown the door.”

  “No way!”

  “But I told them that was what was going to happen – our customers don’t want to deal with a computer interface no matter how ‘real time’ it is. These are people that are investing a lot of money with us and they want to get a real person on the other end of the phone to answer their questions, no matter what time of the bloody day or night it is.”

  Nat was nodding in agreement.

  “We’ve spent millions on installing this system and no one wants to use it now!” Will went on. “The whole thing is a damp squid. I said it all along but Smithy was too far up the board’s arse for anyone to notice. It’s such a complete waste of money.”

  “It’s ‘damp squib’ actually,” Ben said.

  “What?” Will looked at him irritably as if he was a fly on his arm that he couldn’t manage to swat.

  “The phrase – it’s ‘damp squib’ not ‘squid’.”

  “Whoa there, teacher boy!” Will raised his hand to Ben. “Relax, would you, mate – you seriously need to get out more.” He put the glass to his lips and drank more than half of it back in one gulp.

  We all sat in awkward silence until Nat pushed back her chair and got up to serve up the main course. I got up to help her.

  Soon we were busy eating the overcooked pork belly.

  “This is great, Nat,” Will said.

  “Are you sure it’s okay? I won’t be offended if you can’t eat it.”

  “Once you cut away the burnt bits it’s great,” I said.

  It was after midnight by the time we finished the lemon meringue pie that she had made for dessert.

  “That was amazing, Nat – I’m stuffed,” Ben said.

  “You did really well – you’re not just a pretty face. Sorry again for being late, sweetheart.” Will put his hand over hers on the table and gave it a squeeze.

  When Nat got up from the table and started clearing plates, Will stood up to help her.

  “Can we do anything? I feel bad looking at you two cleaning up,” I said, standing up.

  “Sit down, Kate – you’re our guests for heaven’s sake!” Will said.

  Nat cleared the leftovers into the bin and then passed the plates to him to stack beside the sink. There was something about them working together, doing the most banal of chores. Even I had to admit that there was a certain tenderness between them.

  To look at them there, they were like any ordinary couple that had invited friends around for a bite to eat and were now doing the clearing-up. I found myself wondering if Will helped out like that at home. I seriously doubted it – I’m sure, with his money, he had cleaning staff to take care of things like that.

  When they had finished the dishes, Nat made Irish coffees for everyone, while I just had a regular coffee. I needed it – the meal had made me sleepy. I was trying hard to stifle my yawns. They sat back down at the table again and Will topped up everyone’s glass with more wine. He sat back and draped his arm over Nat’s shoulders.

  I watched them, relaxed in each other’s company, as we chatted. The lamplight glinted off Nat’s hair so you could see its reddish tones. They were a good-looking couple – they matched each other in the beauty stakes. His six-foot-two height complemented Nat’s five-foot-ten. When you were out with them, eyes naturally followed them. They attracted attention wherever they went.

  “Would anyone like the last slice of pie?” Nat asked.

  “Maybe Kate would like it – she’s eating for two after all?” Will suggested.

  “God no, I’m grand.”

  “I love the way you still say ‘I’m grand’ after fifteen years living here,” Ben teased.

  “What part of Ireland are you from?” Will asked.

  “Mayo, in the west.”

  “Do you go home much?”

  I squirmed on my chair. “Now and again.”

  I could see Ben looking at me open-mouthed. I shot him a look.

  “My mum was Irish,” Will said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, she was from this tiny little village called Inistioge in County Kilkenny.”

  “Oh, gorgeous spot.”

  “Yeah. We went over there once on holidays when I was thirteen and, coming from a council estate in Slough to a farm in rural Kilkenny, I thought we’d arrived in the most backward place on Earth. The first day we arrived I witnessed a man sticking his hand up inside a cow’s you-know-what to artificially inseminate her!” He laughed.

  “Euggghhh!” Nat said.

  “But it wasn’t all bad. I did have my first kiss there . . .”

  “Oh yeah?” Nat said sitting up.

  “Yeah, her name was Cathy. A fiery little thing she was – jet-black hair and cool blue eyes. She took no shit, did Cathy. She was a real eye-opener. I thought we’d do a long-distance relationship – y’know, wait by the payphone at five o’clock on a Tuesday because she said she’d ring, or write letters to each other – but my cousin rang me a few weeks later and told me she had met another boy from the town and it was ‘Bye-bye, Will’.”

  “Ah, my poor Will!” Nat laughed as she tousled his hair.

  They were so touchy feely. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another.

  “Yeah, I was heartbroken, I really was. Absolutely gutted. There’s nothing quite like your first love,” he said wistfully.

  “Do you think there’s only one person for everyone?” Nat asked.

  “Hardly,” I said.

  “Do you know what, Nat?” Will said. “I think there might be. I mean, I think that you can love a lot of people but there’s an ultimate one out there for all of us.” He smiled at her and there was a look exchanged between them. “But one wrong decision can change how things work out for the rest of your life . . .” He sounded sad.

  “But if that’s the case what happens if ‘the one’ is living in a yurt in Outer Mongolia?” I said.

  “Well, then you just have to hope that destiny intervenes and brings you together,” said Will.

  “But what happens if ‘the one’ is already dead?” I said.

  “I never thought of that,” Nat said. “God, that’s very sad, isn’t it? To think of someone spending their whole life looking for ‘the one’ and not knowing that they’re never going to find them!”

  “Nah. I’m pretty sure
there are lots of ‘ones’ out there for us,” I said.

  “Thanks a lot, Kate!” Ben said, feigning indignation.

  “Oh, you know what I mean . . .”

  “You are such a cynic, Kate Flynn!” Nat said.

  “No, I’m not, I’m just realistic. We can’t all be hopeless romantics like you.” I smiled at Nat who was looking very comfy cuddling up to Will.

  Everybody was well on, Ben included, but I had hit the wall of tiredness. I couldn’t help myself from yawning. I tried swallowing them back but I couldn’t stop – it was like my body was trying to search out the last of the oxygen in the room. Finally I couldn’t fight them any longer.

  “Sorry, guys, I’m falling asleep – I’m such a lightweight.”

  “Well, you’re also nearly six months pregnant,” Ben said.

  “Yeah, maybe we should start making tracks.” I yawned again.

  “Really? Ah, that’s a pity!” Nat said.

  They both saw us out to the door. Will had his two arms around Nat’s waist from behind and was lightly kissing her hair.

  “Well, thank you for coming,” she said.

  “No, thank you – we had a great time,” I responded.

  They closed the door behind us and Ben turned to me and said, “Asshole.”

  Chapter 10

  On Monday morning I had a meeting with Charlie, the graphic designer we used whenever we needed to get artwork designed for our exhibitions. I wanted to talk to him about the booklets and the postcards. He was waiting for me outside the door of the gallery.

  “Sorry, Charlie,” I said, rushing up and opening the door to let him in. Usually Nat was there first but she wasn’t in yet.

  “No worries, I was a few minutes early,” he said.

  He took a seat while I got myself organised. A few minutes later Nat came in.

  “Morning!” she said breezily. “Oh hi, Charlie. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thank you, Nat.”

  She was wearing a burgundy dress with a repeating cat pattern, knitted mustard tights and brown suede ankle boots. Her hair was tied up loosely on top of her head.

  While Charlie set up his laptop, I went down to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.

  First Nat talked him through the theme of Silence and what photos we would be displaying. Charlie flipped open his notepad to take notes. Then I talked him through the practicalities, the number of artists displaying work, the style of booklet we wanted, the colours and fonts. Rather than use a standard template, we liked to have it newly designed for each exhibition to keep it all looking fresh.

  After Charlie had gone, I started work on the press release while Nat made some calls to a few of the photographers to discuss some more of the details.

  “Thanks again for Saturday night, Nat. We really enjoyed ourselves.’ That pork was amazing.” I wasn’t lying – we had enjoyed ourselves even with Will’s arrogance. Although I still didn’t approve of her relationship with him, I was tolerating it for her sake.

  “Yeah, it was fun.”

  “Did Will stay long afterwards?”

  “No, he was up with the lark.”

  “But how does his wife not hear him come in?”

  “They’re in separate rooms – you know that! She doesn’t know what time he gets in at – once he’s there when she gets up in the morning, she doesn’t notice. I hate when he has to leave me though, to go back to his family. It’s getting harder every time. Just for once I wish we could just wake up together in the morning without him running home at some godforsaken hour in the middle of the night.”

  “It goes with the territory, I suppose.”

  “I know, Kate, I’m just saying, that’s all.”

  I knew it sounded bitchy and I felt contrite then. We were only just getting back on track again after our last argument about Will. I knew that I needed to leave my judgmental side out of it but I couldn’t just stand back and watch her get hurt. I could see that she was falling deeper and deeper for him. And the truth was that after watching them together the night before, I couldn’t blame her. He was so attentive towards her, it was easy to see why she had fallen for him. It was obvious that he idolised her and he was affectionate, kind and considerate. The only problem was that he was also married.

  “But you don’t have to put up with half a relationship, Nat.”

  “It’s not ‘half a relationship’ – it may not fit into a stereotypical box but that doesn’t make what we have together any different from other couples.”

  “Come on, Nat, you just said yourself you’re getting fed up of sharing him with his family. It’s only normal to want more.”

  “Well, he can’t leave his wife because of the kids and, as someone who grew up in a broken home, I have to say that I respect that.”

  “Well, at least he’s not filling you full of lies.”

  “He’s not like that, Kate. We get on so well. He always says that if only we had met at another time, things could have been so different.”

  I’m sure he was full of lots of romantic nonsense when it suited him. Nat was a sucker for things like that.

  “So you’re happy to settle for being the other woman then?”

  “For the moment, yeah. I’m happy to just be with him and whatever comes with that I’m willing to accept. It’s part and parcel of loving someone, for better or for worse.”

  I didn’t say it but they were the same vows that he once would have made to his wife.

  Chapter 11

  The following Saturday evening Ben had arranged to meet the boys for drinks – it was his mate Thom’s stag party so it was going to be a wild one. I had persuaded Nat to call over and we were going to order a take-out. I heard the buzzer just after seven. I buzzed her in but, when I opened the door, I saw she wasn’t alone. Another woman was standing beside her.

  “Hi, Kate – this is Gill.”

  “Hi, I hope you don’t mind me crashing on your evening like this?” Gill smiled weakly at me.

  “No, not at all, come in.”

  We all went inside and Nat and Gill sat onto the sofa while I rooted in the drawers for the take-out menu.

  “You don’t mind if we have a glass, do you, love?” Nat asked me, holding up a bottle of Pinot Noir.

  “No, not at all – we can’t all abstain.” I would have given my right arm for a glass of the red stuff. I knew I could have a small one if I really wanted to but then I’d just want more so it was better to have none at all. “I’m going to drink a small river though when this baby is born.”

  “Bet you won’t,” said Gill.

  “Eh, why not?”

  “Women who are pregnant always say that but then when their little bundles arrive they are usually too in love to miss drink any more.”

  “Hmmh, well, we’ll see.” I put two wineglasses and a corkscrew down on to the coffee table.

  The others read the menu and then I ordered the food.

  “Any word from Pete?” Nat said, turning to Gill while we were waiting on our food to arrive.

  “No.” She sighed heavily.

  “Who’s Pete? Your boyfriend?”

  She nodded.

  “Gill was let down at the last minute, weren’t you, darling?” Nat said.

  “Yeah, he has to baby-sit his kids – his wife had to go to visit someone in hospital at the last minute.”

  Ah, it was one of those ‘friends’, one of Nat’s mistress friends. I had been wondering why I had never met her before. Gill was attractive, mid-thirties, well kept, trim figure – probably from not having had children yet, brown glossy hair, nice tan – probably from using sun beds. It was easy to see why a middle-aged married man going through a midlife crisis would be attracted to her.

  “Well, you don’t ‘baby-sit’ your own kids,” I said.

  Nat shot me a look. “Oh, you know what she means, Kate,” she said wearily.

  “I’m just saying . . .”

  Gill looked a bit scared of me so I said no more a
bout it after that.

  The food arrived and we all tucked in. I was dying to ask her why she put up with the limitations of being in a relationship with a married man but I knew Nat would probably kill me. Just like Nat she seemed ordinary – there was no obvious childhood traumas or apparent lack of self-worth – but I didn’t understand why two beautiful women would sell themselves so short.

  The girls called a cab after eleven and I headed up to bed myself but I was woken up after four by Ben’s loud snoring. He always snored when he had been drinking. He had himself wrapped up in the duvet and I only had an inch to cover me. I yanked it back out of his arms and turned over again.

  The next morning I opened the window to let the smell of stale air out of the room. I left Ben to sleep it off and went out and started cleaning up the flat. We were rapidly outgrowing it – there just wasn’t enough room for all our stuff. I was a regular in IKEA, snapping up all their latest storage gadgets but I now needed somewhere to store all the storage. What was it going to be like when Pip arrived? Everyone knew that babies came with contraptions and all sorts of bulky equipment.

  Ben finally roused from his slumber after eleven. I was sitting with my feet up on the sofa flicking through a magazine.

  “It’s awake! How was last night?” I said, putting the magazine down.

  “Good, I feel rough,” he croaked. He sat down at the kitchen table. “Have we any painkillers?”

  “Yeah, hang on a sec.” I got up and rooted around the presses and popped out two tablets for him with a glass of water. I sat down at the table beside him.

  “Thanks. It must have been a dirty glass.”

  “And nothing to do with the ten pints you sculled back of course.”

  “Leave me alone, I’m dying.”