by Paula Daly
She sees a mixture of relief and deep gratitude on Sean’s face.
‘Thanks,’ he says.
‘Any time.’
He walks towards her and goes to retrieve a pint glass from the cupboard, but as he reaches out, Eve touches his arm. ‘Let me,’ she whispers. ‘Sit down, let me be useful.’
He stops and, for the first time since she’s been here, Eve feels something alter. The space between them is changing and Eve knows from experience she’s close to exposing that rare spot where Sean’s blockade is weak. The spot where if just the right amount of energy is channelled, the blockade could very well fall apart.
Sean doesn’t sit as Eve instructed, he stays right next to her as she pours the beer.
As the last of the liquid slips from the can, she hands him the glass, saying, ‘For you,’ and hooks a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, holding his gaze a moment too long.
She parts her mouth, moistening her lower lip with her tongue, and lets the possibility of her, the possibility of what she can do for him, start to sink in.
‘You’re letting me have wine?’ Alice says, staring at the table. ‘Seriously?’ She turns to Sean, her eyes wide. She’s dressed in MC Hammer ‘Can’t Touch This’ pyjama bottoms and a pink Hollister hoodie.
‘Half a glass,’ Sean tells her. ‘No more. Eve persuaded me, so you’ve got her to thank. Don’t tell your mother.’
Alice is fit for bursting. She spins around to Eve. ‘Oh . . . my . . . God,’ she mouths, ‘you . . . are . . . amazing.’
They sit down to eat and Alice downs her half a glass of wine quickly, too quickly, and starts babbling about how utterly lame it is that her mother won’t let her drink. All her friends drink. Not stupidly, or anything. But their parents let them drink at home.
‘Your mum thinks she’s doing the right thing,’ Eve says, ‘and, to be honest, Alice, she is. You’re only sixteen. If you lived in the States you’d have to wait another five years for your first taste of alcohol.’
Sean asks, ‘Do they honestly stick to that?’
Eve nods. ‘Pretty much. It’s an offence in some states if you supply alcohol to anyone underage. So if you leave liquor in the house and the kids get at it, then you’re liable.’
‘That’s nuts,’ says Alice, twirling her fork in her chow mein. ‘They’re, like, “You can get married, you can have a baby . . . you can even have plastic surgery if you want to, but you can’t drink.”’ She shakes her head. ‘That is so totally screwy.’
‘Where we live, lots of teens go across to Canada on the weekends so they can drink.’
Emboldened, Alice says to Sean, ‘See, Dad? If you ban people from doing something, they will always find a way.’
Sean stands to get another can from the fridge. ‘Is that so?’ he says, amused. ‘Eve? Can I get you anything?’
‘I’d love another glass of white Rioja – can’t get that at home.’
‘No?’
‘Washington state’s a big wine-growing region, but there’s not a huge variety to choose from.’
‘What will you do when you have children, Eve?’ Alice asks. ‘Do you think you’ll be all strict and unreasonable . . . like someone we know?’
‘Alice!’ Sean says, flustered by her faux pas. ‘I don’t think Eve wants to discuss—’
‘It’s okay,’ Eve says. ‘It’s fine, Sean.’ She smiles sadly at Alice. ‘To be frank, I don’t know if that’s going to happen for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to become a mother.’
‘Oh,’ says Alice in a quiet voice, ‘but . . . but you’d be a great mum.’
Eve reaches across to Alice’s hand, touching it briefly. ‘Thank you, that’s a lovely thing to say.’
‘I mean it.’
Sean refills Eve’s glass as she drops her gaze. For added effect, she blinks hard a couple of times before speaking. ‘To be frank, Alice, I never imagined I’d find myself in this situation,’ she begins. ‘I always thought I’d have a brood of children by now. It just didn’t work out that way, I guess.’
‘But you’re not too old, are you?’ Alice says. ‘I thought . . .’
Eve tries to smile. ‘No, I’m not too old . . . but my relationship with my husband has ended and—’
Alice’s hand flies to her mouth. ‘Oh!’ she blurts. ‘Oh, I didn’t know. Eve, I’m so sorry. I’ve really put my foot in it, haven’t I?’
‘’Course not. It’s no secret. I hadn’t got around to telling you yet because of what happened to Felicity. It’s okay, Alice, I’m not completely heartbroken.’
‘You’re not?’
‘Things had not been right with Brett and me for a long time. It was best to end the marriage. I’m only trying to be realistic about the fact that by the time I meet someone else, someone I might want to marry and spend the rest of my life with – well, I’m going to be nearly forty. And then the chances of my becoming pregnant after forty are not as great. And the chances of meeting a man who wants a child, perhaps when he already has a family of his own . . . well, they’re not so great either.’
Alice looks away as if she’s suddenly going to cry. ‘Everyone at school bangs on about not having kids till they’re forty . . . but I never looked at it that way. I never thought that if you left it too long it might not happen at all.’
‘Girls say that. Girls were even saying that when I was at school. And education is the most important thing, Alice. I took my education as far as it could go, and it’s brought me the freedom and the chance to do countless amazing things I never expected. But don’t leave having a family too late. You’ll regret it, you really will.’
Alice nods seriously, digesting this new information.
Eve knows that Natty has pushed and pushed her daughter in school. Told Alice to not make the same mistakes she did. Told her not to get landed with a child at such an early age, cutting off her opportunities. And when you’re fourteen, fifteen, that stuff makes sense. But when the hormones kick in, and the nesting instinct starts to strengthen, the desire to be a mother seemingly coming from out of nowhere, it can be a confusing time for girls. They become frightened to acknowledge what a few million years’ of evolution is telling their bodies.
‘And the reason I tell you not to leave it too late, Alice, is because I think you will make a fabulous mum, too.’ Eve then makes like she’s sneaking more wine into Alice’s glass, even though it’s in full view of Sean. He doesn’t object. He’s watching his daughter carefully. Proudly.
‘But what if someone came along for you right now, Eve? Someone who wanted to get married. Then what?’ Alice asks.
‘Then I’d jump at the chance,’ Eve replies. ‘Because if I was really lucky, it might mean I’d get to have a daughter a little bit like you.’
When Alice leaves the table, going upstairs for a bath, Sean leans back in his seat and rests his hands behind his head. ‘I’m glad you spoke to her in that way,’ he says.
‘Like what?’
‘Like an adult. Natty has a way of babying her . . . perhaps “babying” is a little strong, but I think she’s overly protective of her. I worry sometimes Alice might rebel against it.’
‘It can be a fine line,’ Eve agrees.
‘Do you deal with many teenagers at your practice?’
‘Sure. You know what they’re like over there – kid starts acting out, they have issues. It’s a different mindset. Give a British woman a wild child and she’ll say, “This must be my fault. How did I cause this?” Give an American one and she’ll say, “We need stronger meds and therapy” . . . I’m not complaining, though – kids are my bread and butter.’
‘Well, you really know how to talk to Alice.’
Eve makes light of the compliment. ‘She’s a great girl.’
‘No,’ he says, ‘I mean it. You get the best out of her. It’s rare we see her relaxed . . . opening up like that. Lately it’s been one long argument between her and Natty.’
‘It’s my job. Besides, I li
ke to listen. Most people don’t, but I do.’
Eve clears away the plates and takeaway cartons from the table. Sean goes to help but she tells him not to and grabs him another beer.
After he’s downed half of it he asks, ‘Are you really okay, Eve? About Brett, I mean.’
‘I will be. There’s a lot to sort out. I was telling Natty I’m not sure if I even want to go back over there. I might stay here instead. See if I can make a life for myself. What about you? Are you okay?’
‘Of course. You know me.’
‘Do I?’
He looks at her, confused. ‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘I did know you, Sean. Once. I’m not certain I do any more, though.’
‘Things change. Life changes,’ he says. ‘What I wanted at twenty is certainly not what I want now.’
‘But does it ever get too much?’
‘Does what ever get too much?’
Eve gestures around the expansive custom-built kitchen. ‘This,’ she says. ‘The need to keep moving forwards, to keep succeeding, the incessant drive for the beautiful house, the perfect life—’
Sean stops her mid-sentence. He’s mildly affronted. ‘That’s Natty,’ he says quietly, ‘not me.’
‘I know,’ she replies, and he looks away.
After a moment he tips his head back and exhales. ‘It can get to be too much . . . sometimes,’ he admits. ‘I wonder what she’s trying to prove, or to whom.’
‘Does she ever get uptight?’
Sean laughs. ‘Natty? When is she not uptight these days? It’s become that she doesn’t know how to be any other way.’
‘What do you miss?’
‘About Natty?’
Eve reaches out her hand and seizes his wrist. ‘About you, Sean.’
‘Whoa!’ he says, and Eve panics she may have mistimed her approach. She stares at him, gauging his reaction, and to her relief he doesn’t pull away, as she thinks he might. She sees a glint of interest in his eyes, rather than the cold rebuke she thought was on its way. ‘Whoa!’ he says again, sighing. ‘Mrs Psychologist, you are good.’
‘Not good,’ she replies softly. ‘Just concerned about an old friend.’
Sean thinks for a minute. After a time he says, ‘I miss my youth. I miss feeling young and spontaneous. We became parents so early and since then Natty has had every year mapped out. We know what we’re doing and when. Nothing ever just happens any more. The girls are almost grown, we’re on the cusp of the first freedom we’ve ever had, but I’m not certain Natty wants that freedom. I keep trying to talk her into selling the hotel, but—’
Eve releases his arm and sits back in her seat. ‘When did you last get a blow job, Sean?’
For a second he’s thrown off balance. Shock registers on his face. Then, almost reluctantly, he says: ‘I asked for one on my birthday.’
‘And did you get it?’
He shakes his head, laughs derisively.
Eve moves from her chair and down on to her knees. She holds his gaze steady as she pulls off her sweater, removes her bra. He doesn’t stop her. Even though his daughter is upstairs in the bath, even though she’s just moments away, he doesn’t stop her.
She releases his dick from his boxers and gives him a slutty smile. The sense of power she gets from this has always been a turn-on. The ensuing dependence these men have on her always useful.
She slides her tongue around the tip, lustily, and hears him say, ‘Fuck,’ breathlessly, when she takes him inside her mouth fully.
His hands are in her hair, on her face. His movements are urgent.
‘Don’t stop,’ he whispers. ‘Please don’t stop.’
She looks up at him from beneath her lashes and his face is bordering on anguished; he’s almost at that critical point. So she quickens her rhythm.
With his body braced and his hands locked to the sides of the chair, he comes violently, his entire body shuddering.
‘Fuck!’ he says again, astonished this time. ‘You swallowed? You actually swallowed?’
And Eve looks deep into his eyes and frowns. ‘Of course,’ she says innocently. ‘Why, doesn’t everyone?’
Ten Days Later
10
WE’RE FIVE MINUTES from home, driving along the Crook road towards Bowness-on-Windermere. I’m taking it steady, but the sharp bends, the rises and falls in the road, are making Felicity groan.
An Aston Martin is right up my rear end and, after having been patient with him for the first mile or so, he’s starting to piss me off. I’ve taken to touching the brake with my left foot while at the same time keeping my right foot pressed to the accelerator. Each time he slows in response to my brake lights, I pull away from him. Smiling at my petty triumph, I look in the mirror and see he is not amused. Good.
Before leaving France I bought flowers and chocolates for the nursing staff and two bottles of premier cru champagne for the wonderful surgeon who saved Felicity’s life. He’s been a real sweetie. Popping in more than he probably needed to, helping me with the insurance forms, even bringing English DVDs from his own home for Felicity to watch. I developed a minor crush on him, which is only to be expected, I suppose.
Felicity is weak and thin but generally okay. She’s eating almost normally now, though her skin still has that grey hue and they tell me it’ll take time – around a month – for her to return to full health. So she’ll be off school a while longer yet.
We pass the Wild Boar Hotel, Windermere Golf Club, and we’re almost home. I can’t wait to get her there, can’t wait to get Felicity into her own bed and spoil her rotten. And Sean really needs us back where we belong. He hasn’t been coping at all well on his own – I could hear it in his voice.
He has been uncharacteristically quiet on the phone, and though he was insistent nothing was wrong, it’s clear he’s been lonely. He’s one of those men who doesn’t do well without his wife; without regular meals and his usual routine, he goes all to pot.
I am longing to see him. Longing to love him. After one day in France I found I was aching for his presence, and it occurred to me that because we are together almost every minute, I have been taking our love for granted. I couldn’t get rid of the thought: What if I put us first? What if I put us above the girls, above the hotel? What would our life look like if I simply shifted emphasis?
Every time I imagined this scenario Sean was smiling (and naked). And, uncharacteristically, so was I.
Of course, Eve’s been a godsend. Thank heavens she was able to stay for a time to take care of Sean and Alice – though, sadly, she’s now gone, flown home to Washington state. While in France I finally managed to get an internet connection on my phone, so I sent flowers to say thanks for all the help she gave us. I’m totally indebted. And I only hope they were there when she arrived back to brighten things up a little, because I hate the thought of her returning to an empty house.
I look across to Felicity. She’s happy. ‘It’s so pretty, isn’t it, Mum?’ she says. ‘Every time we go away I forget how lovely it is around here.’
‘I know. We’re lucky.’
There have been floods while we’ve been in France. Nothing catastrophic, just excess surface water after days of persistent rain. Rain that fell on to already saturated ground.
Today there are large pools in the fields adjacent to the road, with Scots pines standing oddly erect in the water. I say ‘fields’, but this is not really farmable acreage, not ploughed regular spaces used for growing crops. Mostly, they’re used for sheep.
South Lakeland fields are small, small and scattered with the same giant, rocky boulders that were broken up and used to build the dry stone walls which enclose them.
Felicity gestures through the windscreen to the new spring lambs on the rocky outcrops gathering together to avoid the wet, just as we hit a flooded patch of road and water sprays up high in sheets. Everything is a deep, lush green. British racing green.
We pull into our driveway and see Alice has hung a banne
r above the front door: ‘Welcome Back Felicity!’ and Felicity turns to me, arches an eyebrow. It’s starting to sink in that there might be some mileage to be had in almost dying.
‘She might be nice to me for a bit,’ Felicity says mischievously.
‘Enjoy it while it lasts,’ I reply.
I climb out, and I’m about to go around to Felicity’s side to help her when in my peripheral vision I’m aware of Sean approaching from the house. I go to greet him and stop for a second because, immediately, I see something is wrong.
I stare at him, frightened.
‘What?’ he says, walking up to the car, trying his hardest to smile. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Natty.’
‘What’s happened? Where’s Alice, is she all right?’
He lays his hand on my shoulder, something he never does, and I am panicked beyond measure.
‘Alice is fine,’ he says soothingly. ‘Absolutely fine. She’s at school. She didn’t want to go this morning, obviously. She wanted to be here for when you two got back. I told her she had to—’
‘Who’s dead?’ I demand.
‘What?’ he laughs awkwardly.
‘Has someone died? Where’s my dad?’
‘Natty, calm down. No one has died. Everyone is fine.’
‘What is it, then? Sean, I can tell by looking at you something bad has happened. Tell me. You look like you’ve not slept in a week. Are you ill? Have you been to the doctor?’
He sighs. ‘Let’s go in.’
‘No. Tell me now.’
He holds my gaze for an extended moment before shaking his head. His whole body appears conflicted and I don’t know what to make of it.
He bends forward to talk to Felicity across the driver’s seat.
‘Hey, Miss Wonderful!’ he says jovially. ‘How are you doing? Shall we get you inside? Wait till you see what Alice has done to your bedroom – you’re going to love it.’
He makes no comment on her pallor, which I’m grateful for, and I watch through the windscreen as Felicity goes to lean towards him. Without warning, though, as she attempts to kiss his cheek, the pain in her abdomen forces her back in her seat and, reflexively, Sean and I bolt to her – Sean around the back of the car, me around the front.