Liz threw her eyes up to heaven. If she had her way, she’d go in her 501’s.
‘Great idea!’ exclaimed Brendan, the director, when she told him she was going shopping the next day. ‘We’ll go too, it’ll be a new angle!’
Liz stared at the eager young man, saw that he was quite serious, threw her arms in the air and said, laughing, ‘I give up!’
Her exhibition was a great personal triumph for Liz, with more than thirty of the fifty exhibited paintings sporting the little red ‘Sold’ sticker before the end of the launch. Bryan, who had been so supportive and who had given her such useful advice, was delighted for her. ‘A lot of people like chocolate-box art, it seems!’ he murmured, eyes twinkling, as he gave her a great bear-hug.
‘So it seems,’ Liz responded. ‘How mean of you not to invite Ms O’Rourke.’
‘Didn’t you hear? She’s busy writing a novel. No doubt it will win the Nobel prize for literature!’ Bryan chuckled.
Liz gave him a dig in the ribs. ‘Don’t be nasty!’
‘Well it will be good for a laugh anyway. Maybe they could ask you to review it. That would be sauce for the goose. POLLY PENS PURPLE PROSE!’
The idea tickled Liz’s sense of humour and she roared laughing, really beginning to enjoy herself now that the effort and strain of preparing for the exhibition was over and the evening was going so well. She could see Brendan and his camera crew conducting interviews with various guests as they examined her work. Incarna appeared at her elbow. ‘This ees a marvellous evening, Liz, people are really enjoying themselves, not just standing around making polite conversation. Congratulations, my dear.’
‘Ah thanks, Incarna!’ Liz hugged her friend. It was true what she was saying. There was a great buzz in the gallery. She had been to a few such functions herself, where people quaffed their champagne, ate whatever was to eat, and, surreptitiously looking at their watches, made fast exits. Well, tonight, no-one was in a hurry to leave and the atmosphere was getting more animated by the minute.
‘I suppose there’ll be no living with you after this?’ Christine remarked as she passed her sister on the trail of another oyster.
‘All this excitement isn’t good for a pregnant woman,’ Eve joked, patting her tummy. ‘Those scampi things are gorgeous. I’m developing cravings!’ Her sister-in-law had confided to her a few days before that she was in the early weeks of pregnancy and Liz was over the moon about it. This was even more exciting than the exhibition.
‘For God’s sake take things easy! Why don’t you sit down for a while?’ Liz urged.
Eve guffawed. ‘Lord you’re worse than Don. I’m ready for anything. When this is over I’m going boppin’ in Leeson Street,’ she teased.
Brendan and crew arrived, pointing the camera at Liz. Then Hugh appeared. ‘Smile! You’re on Candid Camera! You look great, Liz. Congratulations on a terrific opening.’ He smiled at her. The expression in his attractive heavy-lidded brown eyes was unmistakably admiring.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured. She was wearing a simple but chic white linen Paul Costello suit which showed off her tan and her curves to perfection. Strangely, she found Hugh’s admiration hard to handle. For the first time since Matt, she found herself somewhat attracted to a man and she wasn’t sure she liked the feeling. It made her feel a little guilty, almost as if she was being unfaithful to her dead husband. She buried the thought, as she had been doing for the past few days in Hugh’s company. Tonight was the night of her opening and she was going to enjoy it. These disturbing thoughts were not for now.
Perhaps sensing her reserve, Hugh said lightly, ‘I bet you haven’t had time to eat yet. Let’s see what goodies are on offer!’
Taking her cue from him, Liz joked, ‘It’s just as well you don’t film cookery programmes. You’d be like the Michelin man.’
Hugh patted his lean midriff. ‘I’m a growing lad. I need my grub and if we don’t hurry on there won’t be any left.’ He took her arm and lead her in the direction of a waitress who was carrying a platter of nibbles.
The evening passed in a blur of congratulations as people complimented her and wished her well. Afterwards Christine and Liam invited Liz, the family and anyone else who wanted to go back to a buffet supper and party in their house which went on to the early hours. Liz got to bed just before dawn, delighted with the success of her first exhibition.
Gradually she began to see more of Hugh. They began to socialize together, discovering that they had many mutual interests, like tennis. Liz loved playing tennis. She had always liked to keep fit and found tennis a great way to relax after a day spent in concentration on her painting or artwork. Although he was, naturally, the more powerful player, she was the more skilful and their games were fairly evenly matched. No quarter was given by either of them and she found their hard-fought marathons invigorating. They also shared a love of swimming and went to the pool several times a week. The healthy lifestyle suited Liz. For so long she hadn’t bothered with any of her hobbies, immersing herself in her work. Now with Hugh she was rediscovering the enjoyment these sports gave her and she began to feel much better both physically and mentally. Whereas before she would do her work and spend much of her time at home, reading and watching TV, unwilling to make the effort to get dressed up and go out, now she found herself looking forward to whatever activity they had planned together.
Hugh was exciting to be with. He was always on the go but she found, behind the brisk and sometimes brash manner, a sensitive man who understood her reluctance to enter into a new relationship and who nevertheless was happy to be in her company. He was very supportive of her career, being very career-minded himself, and he took great interest in whatever commission she happened to be working on. His documentary turned out to be extremely interesting and once she had got over the shock of seeing herself on film, Liz had to admit that she was more than pleased with it.
Of course food played a great part in their budding relationship. Hugh loved eating out. It was part and parcel of his lifestyle. See and be seen was important in his job, he told her, and eating out in posh hostelries was an ideal way of keeping a high profile. The only place Liz would not go to was The Plaza, being unwilling to risk a meeting with Marcus Kennedy.
The first time Hugh kissed her she felt very mixed emotions. It was a cold winter’s day and after two days of blizzards the snow was still thick on the ground. They were larking around throwing snowballs at each other on their way home to Liz’s after attending a reception. Liz had got in a particularly lucky strike and Hugh in retaliation had an arm lock around her and was threatening to deposit some snow down her neck. ‘Say you’re sorry!’ he demanded.
‘Never!’ she protested, her eyes sparkling, cheeks red from the cold, snowflakes white against the shining blackness of her hair.
Hugh drew her closer, a big snowball in his hand. Liz squealed and he started to laugh and dropped the snowball. ‘You’re lucky I’m such a softie.’ He was smiling down at her, his face almost touching hers. Their eyes met and then, softly cupping her face in his hands, Hugh kissed her, very gently at first and then, when she did not draw away, with a passion that left them both breathless.
‘Hugh . . . I . . . I don’t know . . . ’ Liz drew away, confused.
‘I’m sorry.’ He rubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘I didn’t mean to be quite so . . . so . . . enthusiastic,’ he said ruefully. ‘I don’t want to rush you, Liz, but you must know I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.’
‘I know that,’ she admitted, feeling pretty shaken.
‘And did you want me to do it?’ He held her gaze.
‘I . . . Hugh . . . Oh, let’s go in!’ She refused to answer the question.
‘Liz, don’t run away from it, please, it’s important to me, to us. Have you thought about our relationship?’ he said urgently, taking both her hands in his, his breath frosty on the cold night air.
Her eyes in the moonlight were big and troubled. She knew it had to come to this. Hugh wa
s a very attractive man and he was seriously interested in her. He had told her a little of his past relationships, but he hadn’t been seeing anyone since before he had started spending time with her. When he kissed her, she had felt herself responding, felt herself wanting more. Liz was a normal young woman with normal sexual needs. Hugh was the first man she had felt this response to since Matt, but she felt so confused over the emotions that were in conflict inside her. Predominant was a feeling of terrible guilt, as if she was betraying her dead husband in some way. It was stupid, she knew, and Matt would have been the first to tell her so.
‘Have you thought about us?’ Hugh persisted.
‘I’m confused Hugh . . . I need time. Please don’t push,’ she pleaded.
He shook his head and sighed. ‘I’ve been remarkably restrained. After all, we’ve been seeing each other for four months.’ His tone was a little wry.
‘I know,’ Liz murmured. Seeing her distress, he put his arm around her.
‘Ah, cheer up, I won’t try and seduce you tonight, if you’ll give me some of that cherry pie that’s in your freezer.’
Liz couldn’t help smiling at him. ‘You’re a nice man, Hugh. Thanks for being so understanding.’
‘Sshhh! Don’t tell anyone! My reputation will be ruined. Government ministers have to take Valium before confronting me!’
They went in to partake of cherry pie.
*
‘Incarna, did you ever get involved with anyone after Gerald died?’ Liz inquired of her friend as they met for lunch one day several weeks later. Incarna’s black eyes darkened with understanding. ‘I was in a different position from you, my dear. I was widowed late in life after many many years of happy marriage. Like you, I could not contemplate life without my husband. I threw myself into looking after our affairs. I became more of a businesswoman than previously and each night I cried myself to sleep. But like you, I lived through my grief and learned to control it rather than letting it control me. And in time I too began to go out and take an interest in life again. I’ve had men friends but for me, at my age, I am happy as I am.’ She smiled at Liz and reached over and took her hand. ‘My dear, you are a young woman, your life ees ahead of you. Matt would want very much for you to be happy. Eees this not true?’
Liz toyed with her chocolate profiterole. ‘Yes,’ she murmured.
‘Well then if you think you could be happy with Hugh . . .’ she smiled, ‘It ees Hugh we are not discussing, ees it not?’
Liz laughed. Incarna was extremely shrewd.
‘My dear, you must grasp the chance for happiness with both hands. Do not live in the past. Think of the good times of course, but you must move forward or there ees no point to life.’ Incarna lit an Yves Saint Laurent menthol cigarette and inhaled deeply. ‘Of course the first time I kissed a man after my husband died I felt as though I had betrayed him. I felt so guilty.’ She grimaced at the memory. ‘I think it ees an emotion common to widows. This man was a kind and patient man. We talked, we became good friends before we became lovers. He was and ees a pillar of support in my life and what I feel for him in no way diminishes my great love for Geraldo. So, my darling, do not feel bad about Hugh. He ees a nice man, he ees good for you, you have been alone for too long,’ Incarna comforted her.
Liz squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Thank you, Incarna, for being so frank with me. I did not mean to pry. But you understand so well what it is like and Hugh wants more from me.’
‘Of course he does. A beautiful-natured woman like yourself is very hard to resist and that Hugh, he ees very red-blooded, I would say.’ Incarna’s eyes twinkled. ‘But, my dear, only when you are ready. Do not allow him to pressurize you. When it ees right for you you will know, believe me. And I would never think of you as prying. Now, if you don’t eat up that profiterole, I will!’
Standing on the balcony of Apartment 3B, Liz smiled as she remembered that conversation.
Inside, Hugh was talking to the estate agent, and Don and Eve were taking a stroll around the magnificent grounds. She took a deep breath and walked into the carpeted sitting-room, with its magnificent marble fireplace. ‘I’m interested in buying,’ she told the estate agent.
‘Let’s talk business then,’ he smiled.
*
‘You made up your mind very quickly,’ Hugh remarked as they relaxed together after dinner.
‘I tend to do that,’ Liz smiled.
He sighed and rubbed a hand wearily over his face. ‘I’d better go home,’ he said, getting up from the sofa.
Liz stood up with him, put her arms around his neck, drew his mouth down on hers and kissed him long and deeply. ‘You don’t have to go home if you don’t want to.’
Hugh’s arms tightened around her and he lowered his head and kissed her hotly, leaving her in no doubt as to his desires as his hands slid down to her waist and he drew her close against him. ‘Oh Liz!’ he murmured huskily against the side of her neck as he caressed her. ‘Are you sure?’ He sounded almost anxious, concerned for her. He had been very patient with her and for that she loved him.
Her arms tightened around him. She inhaled the male musky scent of him, felt the hardness of his body against hers. ‘I think so!’ she whispered against his lips.
He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. ‘Liz, you have to be sure. I don’t want you to have regrets or to feel bad.’ His voice was not quite steady.
She met his eyes. ‘I’ll have no regrets, Hugh, I promise,’ she murmured and her lips sought his to prove it.
Saturday 9 December 1988
‘Do you want to feed her?’ Eve smiled at Liz as she drooled over her baby niece.
‘Oh Eve, you’re the best sister-in-law in the world,’ said Liz, holding out her arms for the precious bundle. Big blue eyes stared solemnly up at her. ‘Hello, my darling. Hello, Caitriona,’ Liz cooed, utterly entranced.
The baby smiled, a smile that went from one ear to the other, showing a gorgeous little dimple. ‘You are beautiful! The most beautiful baby in the universe,’ Liz informed her five-month-old niece. Caitriona gurgled in appreciation as she made an assault on the thick gold chain that dangled around Liz’s neck, the chain Hugh had given her for her thirty-second birthday.
‘’Allo, Auntie Liz!’ Her three-year-old niece Fiona flew into the room like a little whirlwind. ‘I’ve packed for my holiday and I’m bwinging my zigsie saw,’ the little girl informed her as she clambered up on the sofa beside her and planted a big kiss on her cheek. ‘Your zigsie saw! Brilliant!’ exclaimed Liz, hiding a grin. Fiona came out with the most wonderful expressions. A few days before she had informed her aunt grandly that when she grew up she was going to be a ‘skate icer’. She was coming to stay with Liz for the night, a treat for Fiona, but an even bigger treat for her doting aunt who loved being with the child. ‘Caitweena can’t come. She’s only a baby an’ I’m a big girl now,’ Fiona informed Liz importantly.
‘Of course you are and we’re going to have great fun. We’re going to go into town, first to buy you a treat and then we’re going to go to McDonald’s and then I was wondering if you would help me wrap some Christmas presents?’
‘Am I in chawge?’ Fiona asked, laying down the ground rules.
‘Oh yes you’re in charge,’ Liz promised. She took the bottle from her sister-in-law as Caitriona went into an ecstasy of excitement at the sight of it. Liz held the baby close to her, fascinated by her perfection: the tiny little fingers that were learning to hold on to the bottle and the softness of the dark fine hair that was in such contrast to her flame-haired little sister. Liz ran her palm over the downy head. She loved holding the baby, loved the feel of her in her arms, and each day she called in to visit and have a ‘go’ of her. If it was feeding-time Eve always let her give Caitriona her bottle and the thrill of it never wore off. From the moment she had felt her niece kick lustily in Eve’s womb Liz had started to feel dreadfully broody. All through the pregnancy, as Eve’s shape changed and she bloomed – she was one
of those people whom pregnancy suited – Liz had wistfully looked on, wishing that she was in the same position. Fiona had of course told her where she was going wrong.
‘We’re on the waiting list for a baby, we’re this many to go!’ her young niece informed her out of the blue one day, holding up five little fingers. ‘Would you like a baby, Auntie Liz? Do you weelly weelly wish you were me?’ she enquired, snuggling against Liz for a cuddle.
‘Oh I really really wish I was you. I’d love to be getting a baby.’ Liz smiled. She adored the way her niece could not pronounce her R’s.
Fiona paused and took Liz’s face in her little hands, her blue eyes round and solemn. ‘I’ll tell you why you’re not getting a baby like us. Because you’re not saying enough payers. I said loads and loads of payers to Holy God and now we’re on the waiting list,’ Fiona exclaimed triumphantly.
Eve was doubled up on the other side of the room. Hugh’s face was a study and Christine, who was also on a visit, grinned. ‘Put that in your pipe and smoke it then, Liz!’
Liz had moved in with Eve and Don the week before the baby was due so that she would be on hand to look after Fiona when her sister-in-law went into labour. ‘What will I tell Fiona if she wants to know how the baby got out of your stomach?’ Liz enquired anxiously. Fiona had been informed by her cousin that the baby was in her mammy’s tummy. Put there by Holy God! That had been easy enough to assimilate so there hadn’t been too many questions but Liz decided that, like the scouts, she would be prepared.
Eve laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Liz. She’ll be so excited about the baby that that won’t even cross her mind.’
‘Well, it’s the first thing I’d want to know,’ Liz said doubtfully.
‘I’m telling you, Liz, wait and see.’
Eve went into labour one morning in the early hours. Liz was woken by a gentle shake. ‘I’m away,’ Eve said, grimacing as she sat on the bed and did her breathing to get through a contraction. Liz felt a pang of sympathy for her sister-in-law. Having babies was no fun. Labour didn’t even begin to describe it. Whoever invented childbirth must have had sadistic tendencies. Standing in her dressing-gown waving Eve and Don off, Liz reflected that if she were heading off to Holles Street Hospital to face the ordeal of childbirth, she’d be absolutely petrified. It was awful, really, to have to go through nine months knowing that at the end you were faced with a painful labour about which you could do very little, whether you liked it or not. It was all out of your control, and Liz found herself feeling quite resentful of the idea. Maybe she was unnatural, she thought, as she made herself a cup of tea and watched the sun rise.
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