‘I just wondered if you had,’ he smiled, desperately, ‘forgotten to pay for anything. In your bag, like. Just, you may have… forgotten.’
‘What?!’ she said. ‘I don’t think so, Fintan, but you can have a look.’ She had no choice but to open her bag wide to expose the face of the bunny peering out. ‘How did that get there? Oh dear, this is embarrassing. I have no idea…!’
‘Oh no harm done, Mrs Fitzpatrick,’ said Fintan, beginning to babble with the excruciating embarrassment of the situation. ‘It happens to us all. Me, I’m always forgetting things. I forgot to pick up Ciara from the crèche yesterday.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I must be losing it,’ laughed Steph. ‘I am so sorry, Fintan.’
‘Shall I put it through the till for you?’
‘No, please don’t. No, it’s fine. I don’t want it,’ she said, smiling a weird crazed smile. ‘If I did I would have paid for it! I’m in a bit of a hurry, anyway. Thanks for understanding!’
I can never go there again, she thought as she dashed out of the shop, leaving Fintan to replace the bunny on the shelf. And I am never stealing anything ever again.
She had gone about her day, but just as she was coming into town on the train to meet Melissa and Eilis, the shock kicked in. I can’t let that happen again, she told herself. Why am I making my life so stressful? Why am I making things worse? Why can’t I stop? And it’s not as though I can’t pay for it. Why the compulsion? She had taken things before and she didn’t know how to stop. Suddenly an urge, an opportunity, would present itself and she seemed powerless to control it. Was it the need to feel powerful, to feel alive, to feel something?
And now she had to pretend to be the Steph everyone expected, the calm, assured grown-up Steph, with the lovely life and the lovely family. Plastering a smile on her face, she walked into the bar and spotted Eilis. She waved cheerily.
But when they pulled away from the hug, Eilis was sure she could see tears in Steph’s eyes.
‘Everything okay?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ said Steph laughing it away. ‘Never better. Now, you are looking great! It’s so wonderful to see you!’
Steph was wearing diamond earrings and a gold necklace. Rick must have bought them, Eilis thought. Rick was, what certain women (definitely not Eilis) might call, quite the catch. He had that look about him of the lascivious male, which some women found irresistible but Eilis had always found slightly creepy, not that she would ever admit such a thing to anyone. Steph looked the same, but her eyes were bloodshot and she looked a little tired.
‘So, how are you?’ Steph asked, setting herself down, and smiling as though everything was perfect.
‘Great,’ said Eilis. Great, just great. I didn’t tell you on the phone but I’m living in Dalkey as well now,’ she said, slightly sheepishly. ‘We moved in a year ago. I meant to call you…’
‘Don’t worry, I understand… I get it. I’m the same. So busy. And… and we hadn’t seen each other for so long.’
They looked at one another.
‘It’s good to see you Steph,’ Eilis said.
‘You too.’ And it was, it really was good to see her. Just seeing that familiar face and Eilis’ kind, gentle manner was soothing. Steph could feel her nerves being calmed just being there.
‘I can’t believe it’s been ten years.’
‘I know,’ said Steph, sadly. ‘Why did we let time pass?’
‘I don’t know. But it did. I have discovered,’ said Eilis, ‘that life gets more complicated as you grow older and it’s harder to keep up with it all sometimes.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Steph. ‘It is hard to keep up.’ But where had the time gone? She had been busy with Rachel, of course, and then there was her utter confusion in trying to manage and normalize living with Rick. At first, she was stupefied by his behaviour and it took a great deal of her energy just trying to make everything okay. She had stopped that now and was living a half-life, living in the shadows.
‘Why don’t I call in, for a cup of tea sometime?’
‘That would be brilliant.’ Steph looked so delighted that Eilis wished she had made that call a year ago.
‘When suits you?’
‘Oh anytime, I’m always at home. It’d be great to see you and you can meet Rachel…’ Steph brightened. ‘Anyway, I have a proposal. I’ll explain when Melissa gets here. But it involves helping out with our twentieth School Reunion.’
Eilis groaned. ‘And I thought we both claimed to be so busy!’
‘It won’t be too much work. I promise! And it’s a chance to have regular meet-ups,’ she added, shyly. ‘Anyway. It’s all the fault of Sister Attracta… Oh look, there’s Melissa!’
‘Well, well, well!’ Melissa called over as she walked towards them. ‘Fancy meeting you two here!’ They all hugged. Melissa had spent the day picking up the Beetle, meeting a dead-line, arguing with her boss about the edits and looking at her phone to see if Alistair had changed his mind. He hadn’t. But she won the debate with Liam, her editor.
‘I have missed you, Eils,’ said Melissa. ‘We’re not going to lose each again, okay? Now I’ve found you both again, you won’t be able to shake me off so easily. I’m like a terrier with a ball, these days.’
The other two laughed as they always had at Melissa, she was always the lighter one, the funnier one, the life and soul. It was so nice to see them, thought Steph, these two women, her two old friends.
‘And,’ continued Melissa, ‘I just saw Rob as I was crossing St Stephen’s Green. I’m sure it was him. Has he cut his hair really short, practically shaved?’
‘Yes,’ Eilis said. ‘But he didn’t say he was going out. But maybe…’ Maybe he had gone out. But where, and why hadn’t he mentioned it?
‘Maybe it wasn’t him… this guy looked a bit more built-up anyway…’
‘Well… he has been going to the gym a lot, but I don’t think it could have been him…’
They ordered a bottle of Prosecco and sat at the bar.
‘So, we’re thirty-eight. How did that happen?’ Steph asked, smiling at them.
‘I have no idea,’ Melissa answered. ‘It’s a trick and someone is going to jump out from behind that curtain in a moment and tell us all we are really eighteen again. That’s how I feel anyway.’ She washed down a handful of roasted nuts with a large gulp of wine. ‘Why do they serve this in such small glasses?’ she wondered. ‘The constant refilling is exhausting.’
‘Anyway, I like being old. I have been waiting to be middle-aged my whole life. I am thinking of investing in a pair of elastic-waisted trousers,’ said Steph, signalling to the bartender by waving the empty bottle.
She was far from stretchy trousers this evening; instead, she was wearing a little boucle jacket with her jeans. Her bag was buttery leather, handmade and Italian. Life was obviously going well, thought Eilis, still beautiful Steph. But there was something different about her. She looked different like her light, her glow, had gone. Was that age or something else?
There was Melissa, thought Steph. Her best friend, looking exactly the same as before. She was in jeans and trainers and smart jacket, her battered leather bag was full of notebooks, pens, which all tumbled out when she delved for her purse. Her brown hair had not changed since school; long, curly and defiantly un-styled. And her face was the same, thought Steph, slightly older, yes, but still that spark, that energy.
Meanwhile, Melissa looked at Eilis, her old friend, who, she was pleased to see was looking her usual cute self, Audrey Hepburnish. A bit peaky, though. She always had too many worries. Even when they were teenagers Melissa was aware that Eilis never had as much fun as the rest of them, permanently worried about something or other. Now it was work probably and all that dealing with life and death every day.
She smiled at Melissa, then, and Melissa could see the old Steph, the art history student Steph, the one who loved Botticelli and Bernini more than life itself, the one who had long hair that she would tie up into
a loose bun and who wore kaftans which trailed along the filthy pavements.
‘I just want to be comfortable,’ Steph said. ‘Is that too much to ask? Soft shoes, no bra and nice stretchy tracksuit bottoms all day long. Give up the pretence.’
‘Pretence at what?’ asked Eilis.
‘Being normal.’
‘I quite agree,’ said Eilis. ‘You should dig out your old kaftans, Steph.’
‘Long gone, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, I think it’s time you bought some more.’
They all raised a glass.
‘To comfort,’ said Melissa.
‘To slippers,’ said Eilis. ‘That’s what I want to wear all the time.’
They all giggled a bit too loudly. The Prosecco was working and they drained their glasses and, more importantly, they were friends again. It really was that simple. But, thought Melissa, if only everything else in life was so easy, like relationships or stroppy bosses.
Steph thought of Rick and how much it had taken out of her, just trying to keep herself afloat in the marriage. That hadn’t been simple. And Eilis thought of Rob and the hospital, and the how everything seemed so full-on, and that no one ever seemed to want to hear her, to listen to her. Except here, right now, with her friends. They were interested, they cared. She smiled at them and felt a deep love and affection for them.
‘So, let’s get the business out of the way,’ said Steph. ‘Melissa, I was telling Eilis that we have been asked to organize part of the school reunion.’
‘I’m not going,’ said Melissa. ‘No way.’ But it was clear she was ready to be persuaded as her protestations sounded half-hearted. ‘My emotional scars from school still haven’t healed.’
‘Aw, come on. You have to. It’ll be fun,’ said Eilis, thinking that it was a chance to hang out with Steph and Melissa and revisit the old days. ‘Fun-ish.’
‘Well,’ said Melissa. ‘I want more than fun-ish. I think we deserve actual fun.’
‘Well, then, it’ll be fun. Forget the ish.’
Melissa looked sceptical. ‘But the nuns,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to meet the nuns again.’
‘They can’t hurt you now,’ said Eilis, laughing. ‘They are powerless over you. They are not going to slap you with a ruler on the back of your legs if your skirt is too short at this age.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ said Melissa.
‘You have to face your fears, Mel,’ said Steph, joining the cajoling. ‘Come on. We won’t go, if you don’t.’
‘Okay, if you are hanging it on me, I’ll go,’ said Melissa, faux-reluctantly. ‘I suppose there is the slight, vague possibility that it might be fun. But let’s not get too rash. And what do you mean we have to organize it?’
‘It’s not much… I’ll do most of it. It’s not like I work or anything,’ Steph laughed but looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Anyway!’ she said. ‘The reunion is in December, just before Christmas. Sister Attracta has arranged it for here, in the Shelbourne. That’s why I thought we’d meet here, in the bar.’
‘Sister Attracta? Is she still there?’ marvelled Melissa. ‘She must be ancient.’
‘Yes she is. But even more ancient. And even more wizened,’ said Steph, looking around desperately for the waiter. ‘Now, there is someone doing the decorations and all that malarkey.’
‘Who’s doing that?’ said Eilis.
‘Joanne Hanratty!’
‘Big Jo!’ Eilis laughed.
‘The very one,’ said Steph.
‘I bumped into her at the hospital once, years ago now. Her little boy was ill. Only a small thing. But she was amazing. Had us all running around after her. Took total charge.’
‘Sounds right,’ said Steph. ‘That woman is a powerhouse. Just back from Singapore, it seems. Big job in banking. Or something. And,’ she continued, ‘guess who’s organizing the drinks and the food?’
The others shook their heads and shrugged.
‘Paula O’Dowd. Or rather should I say Paul? I bumped into him in the village a few months ago. He recognized me.’
‘No!’ said Eilis.
‘Jesus Christ. Paula! She kept that quiet. I mean, he did,’ said Melissa.
‘Yes, he has been transitioning for the last ten years. Told me, he should have done it while at school. Wasted years of his life. Says he wishes he’d been braver.’
‘That would have gone down well with Sister Attracta and the rest of the Abbey,’ said Eilis.
‘Well,’ said Melissa, raising her glass. ‘Here’s to Paul and being brave.’
‘To being brave,’ they echoed, smiling.
‘So, as you can see we all have tales to tell. Some more interesting than others. So, all we have to do is get a list together, track people down and send out invites and gets responses.’
‘Simps!’ said Steph.
‘Easy peasy.’
‘So…’ said Steph. ‘Now the business side of the evening is out of the way… how’s life, how’s work going Melissa?’
‘Still there, at the paper. Still typing away. Won the O’Brien prize last year… having a bit of a run of it at the moment. But we’ve got a new editor… Liam Connelly… and I don’t think he’s as keen on me as the judges of the O’Brien prize are. He’s all about “the bottom line” and “entertainment”. And I’m all about the story. But that doesn’t sell papers, unfortunately.’
‘So, what’s going to happen?’
‘Well, either he’s right or I am. We’ll have to wait and see,’ she shrugged. ‘So,’ she changed the subject, ‘Eilis, how’s life at the hospital?’
Eilis had never been exactly voluble, she was quiet and reserved, not one to blather and blabber, and Steph and Melissa knew and respected this and never expected fully in-depth answers.
‘Grand, you know. Busy, stressful. Not enough tea breaks. The usual. Nice patients and narky relatives.’
‘Narky?’ said Melissa.
‘Well,’ said Eilis, thinking of that man with the blue eyes who was so worried about his mother. ‘I don’t blame them, you know, if they are narky. And get annoyed.’ She smiled. ‘Actually, one sent me flowers.’
Steph and Melissa raised an eyebrow and shared a glance.
‘Flowers?’ said Melissa. ‘That was nice.’
‘Was there a card?’ asked Steph. ‘What did he say? Does he know you’re kind of married?’
Eilis laughed. ‘It’s not like that at all… he was just saying sorry for shouting at me and to thank me for looking after his mother.’
‘Well,’ said Melissa. ‘That sounds very nice, I must say. I can’t remember the last time anyone did something like that for me. The closest I get to someone showing appreciation is Jimbo, who sits beside me, buying me a drink on a Friday night. But then forgetting his wallet.’
‘What was his name?’ said Steph.
‘I don’t know, I didn’t ask and he didn’t say on the card. He knew I would know who he was. To be honest,’ she said, ‘they were quite nice. The flowers. Not your normal posh roses or anything like that. More rustic, like they were from a very fancy florist or from a really amazing garden, all berries and viburnum. Really lovely, actually.’ She smiled at the memory and Melissa and Steph caught each other’s eye.
‘You would notice them,’ I suppose, ‘you being green-fingered and all,’ said Steph.
‘What would Rob say if he knew you were being sent flowers?’ teased Melissa.
‘I don’t think he would care,’ said Eilis ‘Anyway there was nothing romantic about it. He was just saying sorry.’
‘Why had he shouted at you?’
‘His mother hadn’t been seen. Lovely woman, she was.’ That evening on the ward, she had seen his mother as soon as she could, gave her every test going and asked one of the nurses to make her and the man a cup of tea. They both looked as though they needed one. ‘It was a suspected stroke,’ she continued, ‘but in the end it wasn’t. High blood pressure, dizziness, hadn’t been taking her tablets. She’s just old,
you know. And he’s worried… about losing her. Anyway… that’s enough about work.’ She changed the subject swiftly, deflecting all the attention away from her. ‘How’s Rachel, Steph?’
‘A genius,’ smiled Steph. ‘Must take after her father. But she’s good at everything… just a few teenager things going on. She’s sixteen now.’
Melissa watched her two old friends. Two women she had known for a lifetime. She had missed them. Their lives were much more settled and grown up than hers. There was Eilis, still with Rob. A great guy. One of the best. He had swooped in just when Eilis could have crumbled after her mother died. And there was Steph, mother to Rachel, and still with Rick. He wasn’t exactly lovely or easy, that was obvious, but they had made a home together. It always made Melissa slightly wistful – she had never found anyone crazy enough to want her back.
‘Didn’t you say you were back from Paris, Mel?’ Steph asked, interrupting her thoughts. ‘The day of the crash. I never even asked who you were with.’
Bloody Paris. Why had she said anything? ‘Oh no one, not really. Just a guy… Alistair. It’s nothing.’ She waved it away, hoping there wouldn’t be any follow-up questions. ‘Anyway, it’s Paris,’ said Melissa, shrugging Gallicly and smiling enigmatically, as though she was the one to have finished with him, or that he was just some fling that she could take up or down whenever it suited her. ‘It does all the work for you.’
‘Well, you in Paris,’ said Steph, ‘and I’m off to Rome next month.’
‘I’m not going anywhere until the summer,’ said Eilis. ‘Greece. I wish we were going right now. Bit of heat on my bones, ouzo in my veins.’ She turned to Steph. ‘Who are you going to Rome with? Just you and Rick?’
‘Him and some of the gang. A rugby weekend. You know Miriam and Hugh… from next door? And some of their friends. It’s going to be fun. And you know how much I love Rome. All that art, the churches. I can dust off my art history.’ Except, she thought, I might as well have not bothered doing a degree. I can’t remember the last time I went to a gallery. She vowed to sneak off, leave the rugby crowd behind, and get to the Pantheon, her favourite Roman church.
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