‘Hi, Jessie,’ she heard Carol call across the bar. She looked exhausted.
‘Hi, you look whacked.’
‘I am.’ Carol eased herself into the chair opposite her. ‘Amanda and I were looking at wedding dresses.’
‘Any luck?’
‘I don’t know. I saw one I kinda liked. Pity we’re getting married together. I’d love your opinion.’
‘I’ll look at it if you want,’ Jessica offered.
‘Thanks, but I want to surprise you, just like Tara wants to surprise me,’ Carol reciprocated.
‘If you like it, buy it,’ Jessica advised, ignoring the barb. ‘That’s what I did. It means you won’t be going around annoying yourself.’
‘I know, but it’s my wedding dress. The most important dress I’ll ever wear,’ Carol wailed.
‘I know that. And I would have been the same as you probably,’ Jessica admitted. ‘I just didn’t have the money to go mad. It’s as simple as that. So I said to myself, make up your mind fast and don’t even look at anything else. Don’t forget Mike’s only started working, we’ll be really skint once the wedding’s over.’
‘Poor but happy.’ Carol smiled at her.
‘Yeah. How are you getting on?’
‘Since “the episode”, do you mean?’ Carol said caustically.
‘Any word from your dad?’
‘Nope, and I don’t want there to be.’
‘How are things with Gary?’ Jessica arched an eyebrow at her.
‘He’s a bit subdued. I think it’s all starting to hit home. Wedding, family stuff. He was fitted for his morning suit the other day. That was a panic-stricken moment for him, I can tell you. I was waiting for him to back out of it all day but he held his nerve, bless him.’ Carol sighed. ‘Nadine’s coming to stay with me next week for an overnighter. We’re bringing her to Temple Bar. If we survive that we’ll survive anything.’
‘He’s doing fine,’ Jessica comforted. ‘He was great that Sunday. He was very good with Nadine and your mam.’
‘I know. I’ll just be glad when we’re married and settled down.’
‘Speaking of settling down, Mike thinks he’s found us a house,’ Jessica said happily.
‘Lucky wagon,’ Carol said enviously. ‘I’m not even bringing up the subject any more, he can only cope with so much at a time. We’re going to live in his place or mine for a while. Once that ring is on my finger, I’ll be looking for a house and if he doesn’t like it he can divorce me.’
‘I’m not going through all this hardship of trying to find you the right dress for you to be talking about divorce.’ Amanda grinned as she plonked a Club Orange in front of Carol. ‘We were this close, Jessie.’ She held up her finger and thumb. ‘And then she chickened out.’
‘It will be worth it on the day,’ Jessica assured her, glad that she’d been spared the trauma of helping to choose Carol’s wedding dress. It was all starting to get exciting, though, and she was dying to see the house that Mike was so set on. Perhaps by the weekend they’d have a home of their own.
* * *
‘Oh! Hi! What are you doing here?’ Katie smiled to see a familiar if unexpected face in A & E.
‘I’m badly in need of a country girl who likes looking at the stars and going to barn dances,’ the man teased.
‘Are you asking me on a date?’
‘Yep. Are you coming?’
‘Why not?’ Katie agreed happily. ‘I’m off duty at ten.’
‘I’ll be waiting,’ he said.
* * *
‘Why don’t we get your mother to babysit and we’ll go out to dinner?’ Bill suggested.
‘No, I’m not in the humour to go out,’ Brona said coldly.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Brona, give me a break here,’ Bill said in desperation.
‘Why? Why should I? It’s always about you. You and your traumas. I’m in the middle of a trauma right now, so you give me the break,’ Brona snapped viciously.
‘Look, we need to talk at least—’
‘You mean you’ll do the talking and I’ll do the listening. I don’t think so, Bill. When I’m ready to talk I’ll talk, but right now I’m so disappointed in you I don’t want to talk to you.’
Utterly fed up, Bill slammed the door and walked out into the back garden. He was a disappointment to her. That hurt terribly. He’d always liked the way she’d looked up to him. The worst thing was that he understood how she felt. Hell, he was a disappointment to himself, he thought glumly as he hauled the lawnmower out of the shed. He couldn’t look himself in the eye any more. His guilt was so all-consuming he felt smothered by it. If Brona only realized how bloody guilty he felt she wouldn’t be rubbing his nose in it.
Women were the most troublesome species that had ever existed. And he should know. All he’d had from every woman in his life was trouble. Poor innocent little Ben, he didn’t know what miseries were in store for him when he grew up.
* * *
Gary groaned under the weight of the barbells as he pumped iron furiously in his local gym. He was spending a lot of time here, trying to dissipate the cloud of unease that assailed him of late. It was only pre-wedding jitters. All blokes went through it, he assured himself as he finished with the weights and headed for the bike.
He and Carol were treading water around each other and it was getting on his nerves. He’d nearly prefer for them to have a humdinger of a row and get it over and done with. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. It had been a scorcher all day, and the gym was stuffy. He saw that a treadmill was free and decided to do some running rather than cycling. He stepped on and set the programme. Steep incline, to really push himself. It was almost August, the summer was flying, and in a couple of months he’d be a married man. The thought filled him with dread.
He’d nearly lost his cool the day he’d been fitted for his morning suit. Alterations had to be made to the one he was wearing and he’d stood like a bloody idiot getting measured and pin-tucked like a mannequin. The hotel was booked, the menu agreed upon, band organized. It was all getting bloody serious.
Carol’s father hadn’t been in touch since the bust-up, and according to his bride-to-be, that was the end of it and things were back to normal. Well, as normal as things could be in that weird family, he thought despondently. Nadine was coming to stay with Carol next week. She wanted to go drinking and clubbing and Carol was having a fit. Carol was so uptight about drink. Now he understood why, but one of these days he was going to go on the tear and get hammered. He’d earned it, he decided, as he increased his pace and began to run in earnest.
* * *
Nancy sat on her lounger in her favourite spot in the garden. It was the corner at the end that faced the western sky and allowed the dying rays of the sun to bathe her in its benevolent, gold, warm light.
The grass could do with cutting, and the shrubs were terribly overgrown, she observed. It was a shame. The garden could be lovely. She’d let it go to pot, she chided herself, looking around at the sheltered private untidy garden that had been so badly neglected.
It was strange, she’d been sitting in this spot on and off for years and had never noticed how wild and untended it was. In the last week especially she’d begun seeing things with clear eyes. The shabby house in need of refurbishing and redecoration. The garden in need of tender loving care. She wasn’t looking at them through drink-sodden eyes any more, she realized, and felt a rising sense of excitement.
That unbearable weight of depression she’d carried for so long seemed to be getting easier to carry. She felt stronger, healthier. She’d cut down her cigarettes from forty a day to twenty. She still drank, but only sips now. No more long slugs as if it were lemonade. She still felt the need to know that she had a bottle in her bag or by her bed if she needed it, but she was weaning herself off it and had only faltered badly three times since that soul-destroying afternoon.
She shivered, thinking of it. Seeing all those neighbours and, even worse, Carol’s fiancé
watch Bill roar and curse at her. She’d wanted to sink through the ground. That had been one of the worst experiences of her life. Her rock bottom, possibly. When Liz had thrown her the lifeline she’d been afraid she wouldn’t have the courage or the willpower to keep holding it but so far she had, and it was getting marginally easier.
Liz was amazing, she thought gratefully. She’d always appeared so positive and together. Her tears earlier and her palpable grief over the loss of her husband had astonished Nancy. You’d never know by her outward appearance that she was still so bereft after all this time.
Liz had put her own troubles aside to help her, the least she could do was try and keep on the straight and narrow at least until the wedding. And even after it, Nancy decided. Liz was right, she could start afresh. Bill Logan was never going to see her in that state again. None of them were.
Feeling more peaceful than she’d been in many, many years, Nancy raised her face to the evening sun and felt the tension slowly leave her body.
* * *
Nadine buttered a slice of bread and butter and cut a chunk off a block of Cheddar. She was hungry. She stood at the kitchen sink, sipping a glass of milk and eating her snack. She could see her mother sitting at the end of the garden. She hadn’t done that for such a long time, and now she was sitting out a lot. It was amazing, Nadine reflected. That haircut that Liz had persuaded her to have had made such a difference. It was like looking at a new woman. Even living with her was different. She was going for her walk with Liz every night. She had cut down on her cigarettes and she had cut down on her drinking.
She was still drinking; Nadine didn’t fool herself there, but not as heavily at all. Her eyes were clear, and she was talking coherently, not in that pissed slurred dead way that Nadine had grown used to.
This was one of the best summers in a long time, she reflected, not only weatherwise. Her mother wasn’t in a heap. Nadine had got a part-time job in a petrol station, and the money wasn’t bad. She had a great new state-of-the-art hi-fi system courtesy of her father. Carol was adamant she didn’t want it and Bill hadn’t come back for it, so Nadine had appropriated it.
And next week she was going to Dublin to stay over and she was going to get to Temple Bar, the coolest place in Dublin. Even Lynn envied her that. Her friend didn’t have family in Dublin and she’d never been allowed to stay over on her own. Nadine would love coming back home with tales of pubs and clubs that Lynn might not get to see until she’d finished school.
She wondered if she could persuade Carol to allow Lynn to come to stay some night. That would be brill. They’d really have a ball.
Nadine rinsed her glass under the tap and smiled. A month ago she’d been in bits, mortified by the carry-on of her parents and sister in front of the neighbours. Amazingly, today, it seemed like a bad dream.
And things were looking up.
33
The traffic was atrocious but at least she was getting off the N11, Jessica sighed with relief, as she indicated left to turn off at Delgany. She drove down the winding country road, admiring the big houses to her left and right. It was an affluent part of the county with a charm all of its own, a million miles away from the helter-skelter rat-race she had just left. She could feel herself relaxing already. She drove along until she came to the turn for Kilcoole and felt a carefree giddiness wrap itself around her. Soon she’d see Mike. She missed him like crazy.
She often looked at married couples she knew and wondered why they had let the intimacy of their relationship slide – the appreciation of being in each other’s company, the pleasure of doing little things together, like watching the news or preparing a meal or going for walks and holding hands. She hoped the joy of such small things would always stay with her and Mike and that familiarity would not deaden their relationship. It all depended on the effort you put in, she reflected, remembering how, even after twenty years of marriage, Ray and Liz had delighted in each other’s company. They were two of the lucky ones, and she hoped she and Mike would fare as well.
She drove along the narrow road gazing with pleasure at the panoramic coastal views away to the left of her. The sea was as blue as the Mediterranean. If she lived in the area she’d be able to walk to the beach from her house and watch the sun sparkle and glitter in summer and the waves swirl and pound in winter. She could smell the salty breeze and she very much hoped that this was to be her new home.
She bounced over the first of the ramps through the village and slowed to a more appropriate speed. She’d have to remember the ramps if she were going to live here, she grimaced, as she bounced over another one. She’d driven through Kilcoole many times, never thinking that she might live here. To her right she could see the church that had been made famous in a TV series called Glenroe that had been filmed in the village. She drove past the vegetable shop with colourful trays of bedding plants outside, and noted the Spar supermarket on her right. It would be her local shop, she thought happily. Following Mike’s instructions, she took the left at the yellow pub and drove past a small well-kept housing estate for about half a mile until she came upon a narrow lane that led to a neat little cottage. This must be it, Jessica thought in delight, noting the freshly whitewashed exterior, the gleaming sash windows and the flower-filled garden.
It was just the way he’d described it. She rummaged in her bag for her phone and dialled Mike’s number.
‘Where are you? I’m here,’ she said excitedly.
‘I’m just coming into Newcastle, I won’t be long. The estate agent gave me the key; he can’t make it, so we have the place to ourselves.’
‘Yippee,’ she yelled exuberantly. What a fabulous way to start the weekend.
Ten minutes later Mike’s red Volvo came rattling down the lane. Jessica flew into his arms. They kissed hungrily, touching each other’s faces as though they had been parted for months.
‘I missed you.’ She drew away breathlessly.
‘I missed you too. Do you like it?’ He turned to look at the cottage.
‘It looks gorgeous. Come on, let’s have a look.’
‘It’s small enough now,’ he warned. ‘Small but perfectly formed.’
Hand in hand they walked up the path and Mike inserted the key into the lock. Impulsively he swept her up into his arms. ‘I’ve a feeling this is going to be our place so I’m going to carry you over the threshold.’
He kissed her before carrying her into a small wooden-floored hall that had old-fashioned cream-painted wooden doors to the left and right. Mike carried her to the door at the end that led to the kitchen and pushed it open with his foot.
‘Ohh!’ she said appreciatively, looking at the neat little kitchen, dominated at one end by the big cream Aga. Cream and green fitted cupboards lined the walls and a big window faced on to a large tree-lined garden that had its own overgrown vegetable patch.
‘We’ll be able to grow our own cabbages and spuds,’ Mike said cheerfully. ‘We’ll be able to have organic vegetables.’
‘We’ll be like Tom and Barbara out of The Good Life.’ Jessica nuzzled in to him.
‘You might need to lose a stone or two to be mistaken for Barbara,’ joked Mike, easing her down to the floor.
‘You stinker!’ Jessica poked him in the arm before turning her attention to the kitchen. It was well fitted, with a fridge-freezer and microwave. In a little utility room that led out to the back there was a washing-machine and drier. A small archway led to a cosy dining-room with a cream table and chairs.
They moved on to the sitting-room, which was a bright, sunny room with an old-fashioned tiled fireplace, wooden floors and two squashy terracotta sofas made for sinking into. A low coffee table in the centre of the room held a trio of cream candles.
‘It’s been refurbished to let,’ Mike explained when she remarked on how modern the interior was, belying its old-fashioned exterior.
The bedroom on the opposite side of the hall had a big brass bed, two bedside lockers and a fitted wardrobe whose cream
doors cleverly matched the old-fashioned latch door into the room. It was a nice touch, in keeping with the cottagey feel, and Jessica was entranced.
‘Oh, Mike, I love it. Imagine what it will be like when the bed is dressed.’
‘And imagine us romping around in it undressed!’
‘Yeah,’ she agreed, eyes sparkling.
‘And we have a guest room,’ Mike said happily, leading her into the room next door which, though compact, held a double bed and two bedside lockers and a pine chest of drawers.
The bathroom was tiled from floor to ceiling in apple green and white and the bath was new.
It was perfect.
‘Will we go for it? It’s a thousand a month.’
‘You bet, Mike.’
‘Right. I’ll drop the key back and confirm to the estate agent that he’s definitely got two new tenants,’ Mike declared, taking Jessica in his arms and kissing her hungrily.
* * *
Liz had the patio table set for tea. Chicken breasts stuffed with cream cheese and wrapped in bacon were cooking in the oven. The Caesar salad was prepared, and a bottle of wine was chilling in the fridge. Jessie and Mike had phoned to say that they were on their way and her heart had lifted at the sound of her daughter’s happy voice.
While she waited she sat at her computer, logged on and opened her emails.
‘This is lovely,’ she murmured, reading an inspirational email Tara had sent her. The words were so loving, so kind, she felt a lump in her throat as she scrolled down to the final most comforting words of all. Pass it on, it said, and she sat thinking of all the dear friends who had helped, whose lives she’d like to enrich with the gift that had just been sent to her. She forwarded busily for ten minutes and then she thought of Nancy. It couldn’t but help her, she decided, clicking on the print icon. The printer rattled into life and she picked up the pages that slid out and started to read the email again. It was called The Interview With God, and it was written in the form of a poem. Liz read it slowly, savouring every word.
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