Old age was cruel, she reflected, thinking of the elderly patients she’d nursed over the years, suddenly feeling that it was much closer than she’d ever imagined.
A lump the size of a melon lodged in her throat and she swallowed hard, and then she was crying again, her heart breaking as waves of despair and anxiety swept over her and she curled up in a ball on her bed, weeping like a child.
Seeing Barry and Aimee with Melissa as they walked over to their table had made her feel empty and thrown her life into sharp focus. She knew it was pointless and unproductive to compare and contrast, but they looked so affluent and glamorous – the family that had it all. Barry had held Aimee’s chair out for her and Connie could see that it was force of habit. He obviously did it for her every time they were out.
Even after all these years that little gesture had given her a pang. Her ex-husband had never been attentive to her like that, even when things had been good between them. He’d never treated her with the respect he treated Aimee, she thought sadly. If he had, and just made more of an effort, they might still be married. She felt pretty sure that Aimee didn’t have to put up with the moody silences that had so dominated the latter part of their marriage. She probably wouldn’t stand for it. Aimee was a sharp cookie who wasn’t afraid to voice her feelings or opinions. She wouldn’t let Barry off the hook because she was afraid it might cause upheaval in her marriage, Connie felt sure.
In comparison, she’d been far too wimpish about speaking up. What good had repressing her emotions done? None. Her marriage had failed, in spite of her appeasements, she thought bitterly, disgusted with herself and suddenly feeling very angry. What in the name of God was wrong with her? What on earth was she doing? Hadn’t she dealt with all of this stuff? Why was it all coming back to haunt her? She was as bad as Debbie.
She heard Hope patter up the stairs and jump up on the bed beside her. And then a cold nose rubbed hers as her cat gazed at her with green-eyed affection. ‘Oh, Hope, I’m a middle-aged failure and a disaster of a mother,’ she gulped, and snuggled her face in the cat’s silky black fur. She felt the heat of her solid little body and the steady beating of her heart against her cheek. Hope gave her a comforting lick and curled herself in against her, and that made Connie cry even more. She lay with her arm around her cat, crying bitterly as the late afternoon sun streamed in through the window, warming her back and shoulders.
The phone rang and she struggled to compose herself. ‘Go away,’ she muttered, but it kept on, insistent, jangling her nerves and, eventually, she answered.
‘Hi, what are you up to? Fancy a walk later?’ It was Karen.
‘Hi, Karen,’ she managed, before bursting into tears again.
‘Hey! Hey! What’s up? What’s the matter?’ Her sister-in-law’s concerned tone came down the line.
‘Oh Karen,’ wailed Connie.
‘What! Tell me what’s wrong?’ Karen said sharply, getting really worried.
‘Aw, just had a disaster of a lunch with Barry and his gang, and Debbie was so rude I was mortified, and I just feel I’ve failed completely in bringing her up. She’s so angry and bitter and it’s all surfacing now. This wedding’s going to be an absolute fiasco.’ It all came pouring out.
‘You had lunch with them? Was it planned?’
‘No. Debbie was treating me to lunch in Roly’s and they walked in and the place was still full so what could I do? Only ask them to join us?’
‘Oh dear. Was Aimee thrilled?’
‘What do you think? As thrilled as I was,’ Connie said dryly.
‘And is that why you’re crying?’
‘Oh, don’t mind me, I’m menopausal, according to you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it must be my hormones.’ Connie cleared her throat, trying to compose herself.
‘Ahh. Look, don’t tell me any more. I’ll come over and we’ll have a natter. I’ll be with you in about an hour.’
‘Haven’t you loads to do?’ Connie said weakly.
‘Oh yeah, a week’s washing and a report for my boss on the impact of the green-bin collection in my catchment area. Why do you think I’m looking for an excuse to escape?’ Connie knew her sister-in-law was smiling.
‘OK,’ she sniffed. ‘See ya.’
‘Chin up, honey, we’ll sort it,’ Karen promised.
Connie wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands and sat up. Having a good friend was such a blessing. Karen was a great support to her, she could tell her anything. She unhooked her bra and wriggled out of it, and her briefs, slid on a black swimsuit and wrapped a beach robe around her. She might as well catch a few rays. They could have their tea on the patio when Karen arrived. It would be good to see her, she thought, her mood lifting as she hurried downstairs, followed by Miss Hope, purring like a train at the prospect of more grub.
She shook some dried food into the cat’s dish, placed two mugs on to a tray and spilled a few chocolate snacks on to a plate. Might as well have another few calories to add to the thousands she’d consumed with her fish and chip lunch. She’d better be careful though. She knew what she was like when she got down in the dumps. She could go on an eating jag and put on a half a stone in the blink of an eye, and she couldn’t afford to do that with the wedding coming up.
She went out to her small utility room and took two lounger cushions out of the press she kept them in. The sun was warm and comforting, and she lay down on one of the loungers and stretched her tired body. Maybe she might be able to have forty winks before Karen came. She’d been up since five forty-five this morning, and it had been a long and eventful day.
She felt the tension slowly ebb out of her body as she squirted Ambre Solaire on to her arms. The garden was coming into its summer glory. It was winding and higgledy-piggledy, full of flowering shrubs and apple and damson trees. There were two cottages on either side of her and a meadow at the end of it, so she wasn’t overlooked, and high, evergreen hedges gave her complete privacy. Pots of petunias and geraniums lent colour to the patio and jasmine and wisteria tumbled over the trellises on either side. The garden was her haven, the place where she came to think and wind down; it was the garden that had drawn her to the house, even though it had been a wilderness when she’d viewed it. But she’d imagined what it could look like and she’d worked hard in it over the years until it became her small paradise.
She had moved from Deansgrange to the seaside town of Greystones, in Wicklow, to be near to Karen and her family. Debbie loved her cousins and they all got on extremely well, and Connie hadn’t felt so isolated, particularly while Barry had been in America. Having the Dart made commuting to Dublin much easier, especially in the last few years when the patient she’d been nursing had lived very close to a Dart station.
Even though it was now firmly in the commuter belt and new apartments and houses were springing up everywhere, Greystones still retained the village-like atmosphere and friendliness that she’d found when she’d moved there all those years ago.
She lay back and raised her face to the sun. She adored lying in the sun. It relaxed her, calmed her spirit. She hoped it would perform its magic on her today, because her mind was in turmoil, her thoughts racing from Debbie to Barry and back to herself and her own woes.
She wondered had Barry and Aimee made up yet? Who would apologize to whom first? Right now they were possibly cuddling together, discussing Debbie’s rudeness. She’d seen the look of disdain on the other woman’s face as Debbie had wittered on about ‘twiglets’. Why couldn’t her daughter have stayed quiet and behaved with some dignity instead of making herself look churlish and infantile? She’d acted just like Melissa on a bad day.
Debbie knew that Connie was pissed off with her. And rightly so. Connie had enough on her plate without worrying about her daughter’s bad behaviour. Her eyelids drooped as tiredness swept through her and her body jerked as her muscles began to relax and she fell asleep.
She awoke to find her sister-in-law stretched on the other lounger grinning over at
her.
‘How you doin’, sleepyhead?’
‘Karen! How long are you here?’ Connie yawned and nearly gave herself lockjaw.
‘About twenty minutes. I came in through the side gate because I guessed you’d be out here and you were flakers and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I know you were up at the crack of dawn.’
‘That’s for sure.’ She struggled up into a sitting position and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘What time is it? Tea? Coffee?’ She arched an eyebrow at Karen.
Her sister-in-law held up her hand. ‘It’s quarter to seven. Stay where you are. I brought sustenance with me.’ She grinned.
Connie laughed. ‘Did you now?’
‘Lie back there. I’ll be out in a minute,’ Karen instructed.
Connie lay back against her cushion. It was lovely being pampered, especially after the day she’d had.
Five minutes later Karen appeared with a tray laden with nibbles. ‘We have pâté and crackers, smoked salmon and cream-cheese rolls, chorizo, olives and sun-dried tomatoes, and some fresh crusty bread slathered in butter,’ she announced. She laid it down on the table and winked. ‘Liquid sustenance on the way, plonk your ass in the chair and tuck in.’
‘Thanks, Karen, you’re such a pal.’ Connie hauled herself up and gave the other woman a hug and was warmly hugged in return.
‘You’ve done it for me many’s the time. A nice glass of chilled wine?’
‘Why not? I won’t be going anywhere tonight.’
‘Great. I took the precaution of getting John to drive me over and he’ll collect me whenever I ring, being the good husband that he is. So I can join you. Aren’t I kind to myself?’ She laughed as she went inside to get the glasses and the wine.
‘This is lovely and tranquil, Connie, it’s a real little oasis of peace. You’ve done a great job of it,’ Karen remarked as she handed her a glass of Chablis a few minutes later.
‘I know, I love it myself. But I’ve no one to share it with.’ Connie bit her lip.
‘Is that what this is all about?’ Karen’s grey eyes were kind and understanding.
‘Yeah, a bit,’ sighed Connie, nibbling on an olive. ‘When I saw Barry and Aimee and Melissa in Roly’s today, for some unfathomable reason I felt terribly empty. I never thought I’d end up living on my own. It’s been hard getting used to Debbie going. At the back of my mind I suppose I’d always hoped that I would find someone else and have another child with them, and that’s not going to happen now.’
‘Well, perhaps not the child, but there’s nothing to say that you won’t meet someone, a gorgeous woman like you. Why wouldn’t you?’ Karen declared.
‘Oh come on, Kar, I’m a middle-aged nurse, who’s going to look at me?’
‘Now stop it. Stop this middle-aged stuff,’ Karen rebuked sternly as she bit into a slice of bread and chorizo. ‘Why are you thinking of yourself as middle-aged, for crying out loud? What’s brought all this on?’
Then it all came pouring out in a torrent of words and emotions as she spoke of her fears, of her loneliness, her worries and guilt about Debbie, her envy of Aimee’s youth, her resentment of Barry leaving her, which she had thought she’d long put behind her.
‘But, honey, why are you surprised to feel like this?’ Karen asked when the whole sorry saga was finished. ‘Your daughter is getting married; of course things are going to surface. Weddings are life-altering occasions. Yours and hers. You’re only getting used to living on your own. That’s not easy. And Debbie’s up to ninety too. You’re very hard on yourself. It’s only natural that you’d be feeling fragile.’
‘I know, but today was dreadful and she was rude.’
‘Well, it sounds to me that Aimee was as rude.’
‘That’s no excuse. I was raging that she let herself down in front of her.’ Connie frowned.
‘I know. Even though they’re old enough to get married, you still think of them as children and you want them to be on their best behaviour.’
‘Poor old Melissa got a telling-off too, I felt sorry for her. Behind that surly exterior she’s a nice enough kid.’
‘Aimee was feeling about Melissa the same way you were feeling about Debbie. I’m telling you, kids do it to their mums every time.’
‘Yeah, but Debbie’s twenty-five. I’m at my wits’ end with her, Karen. She’s never going to give Barry a break and I feel sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve the way she’s treating him, in all fairness.’ Connie took a slug of her wine.
‘She’s very stubborn. I won’t deny that. But I think the run-up to the wedding’s exacerbating everything. She’s stressed and she needs to dump on someone and it can’t be Bryan and it can’t be you, so it’s going to be Barry. Things will calm down,’ Karen assured her, refilling her glass. ‘Look at you today, upset and all in a tizzy, when usually you take things in your stride.’
‘I know, but Debbie’s stuff is deep and ingrained. I should have been more aware of it, maybe brought her to counselling after we split up or something,’ Connie berated herself.
‘You did your best and, besides, marriage break-up wasn’t as prevalent then as it is now. There wasn’t that much in terms of counselling and support to be had. Stop beating up on yourself, it’s not deserved, Connie.’ Karen leaned across the table and squeezed her hand.
‘I’m worried about her. And I’m worried about their marriage. I don’t think Bryan’s the right one for her. It’s all too one-sided. She’s the one who does everything. That’s all very well now when there’s just the two of them, but what happens when children come along? Will he pull his weight then? Or is she going to be left trying to juggle everything while he goes to the races and his art-gallery openings and the likes?’ she fretted.
‘Connie, you can’t spend the rest of your life worrying about them. Let them lead their own lives and you start leading yours. These next few years are going to be all about you, and make the most of it. And if you want another relationship – and I think you should try and find someone – go for it,’ her sister-in-law counselled. ‘Take stock, move on, and try something different. That’s what life’s all about.’
‘If I was ten years younger maybe.’ Connie made a face.
‘Well, you’re not, live with it,’ Karen retorted.
‘I’m trying to but, cripes, fifty is looming and it scares the hell out of me.’
‘Me too! I’m petrified. I keep forgetting things. I can never find my car keys; I forget words in the middle of sentences. My head goes woolly. My eyesight’s going, my hair’s as grey as a badger behind the hair dye. I have to use KY sometimes. I’m getting those lines around my mouth! Everything’s gone south – boobs, ass, belly. Oh God, it’s the pits! I keep seeing all these lissom young beauties coming into the house with Jenna, and I hate them, prancing around in their belly tops and short skirts, and I wonder how John can still want to make love to me, and is it just habit or do I still turn him on? And I wonder do these flighty young things realize how lucky they are that they don’t wake up with aches everywhere, feeling like old women. They aren’t a bit grateful for their youth and their soft, unlined skin. They just take it for granted. And have you noticed, or is it just me, that there’s loads of ads about the menopause on the TV these days? I never noticed them before, because they’ve never been on before. They’re just rubbing my nose in it! And what about those ads for over-fifties insurance? Or active friggin’ age? That’s going to be me in a few years and I just can’t believe it . . . See . . .’ She grinned. ‘I can throw a wobbly and rant away just as good as you can!’
Connie burst out laughing and Karen joined her, guffawing heartily.
‘That’s exactly the way I feel, apart from the making-love bit. When I came home yesterday I went to the alarm panel, saw the numbers and keyed in 1234 and couldn’t understand why the alarm wouldn’t turn off. I stood in a daze before realizing I hadn’t keyed in my code.’
‘The joys of getting older! Aimee, eat your heart out,’ K
aren said wickedly. ‘She’s having Botox done, I’d swear it.’
‘Well, she looks great on it. I wish I had the nerve to do it.’
‘Me too, but I’d be petrified to put that poison into my body. Who knows how it’s going to affect her in years to come?’
‘She looks fantastic though,’ Connie said wistfully.
‘Yes, she does, but at what cost? Look at poor old Melissa. Aimee’s so busy working, and working out, that child gets fed processed foods and fast foods and, as far as I’m concerned, is sadly neglected. I wouldn’t dream of letting my kids have satellite TVs and computers in their bedrooms. God knows what she’s watching and surfing. She has all the games and the gadgets, the clothes and make-up, but she’s one of those kids whose parents are cash-rich and time-poor. We made time for our children, our careers didn’t dictate our lives. Aimee and Barry’s careers are paramount.’
‘I think they’re quite strict with her though,’ Connie observed.
‘When it suits them. I called one evening to leave a birthday present in for Melissa, and she was in that apartment on her own eating a pizza at five o’clock in the afternoon. Aimee was in that posh gym in Dun Laoghaire and Barry wasn’t home from work. I think that’s appalling. The child should have a decent dinner when she gets home from school.’
‘I know, I gave her some new potatoes the other evening when she and Barry called over, and she told me she’d never had them before, they get their mashed potatoes in Marks or the Butler’s Pantry. Aimee never cooks, that’s why she’s a bloody twiglet,’ Connie grumbled.
‘Lucky wagon.’ Karen tucked into crackers and pâté. ‘I wish I could get away with that with my crowd.’
‘We’re bitches, aren’t we?’ Connie gave a wry smile.
‘Yep, jealous bitches, but at least we’re honest about it.’ Karen giggled. The wine was beginning to hit. ‘Here, have another glass?’ she held up the wine bottle.
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