Two Days in Biarritz (15 page)

Suddenly she wasn’t feeling so defiant any more. The tears started to trickle slowly down her cheek – first from her right eye, then from her left.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered.

Then Damien saw a look in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. A mixture of defiance and fear wrapped up in one. She had batted those eyes on the day he had proposed and he had worn the mantle of the dutiful husband ever since. Now looking at her, he felt more than pity. She had probably been miserable for most of their married life too.

* * *

Shane beckoned at the Polish girl to bring over the bill.

“Thanks,” Kate smiled. “That was really nice.”

“Fancy a wander round the Green?” Shane tilted his head slightly, hoping she would agree to spend the afternoon with him.

“Yeah, great!”

Kate loved St Stephen’s Green. They had spent many a lazy afternoon on their school holidays feeding the ducks and philosophising on life. They were no different to most teenagers then and felt they were an authority on every subject. Stephen’s Green was where he had told her that he loved her for the first time as they lay on his denim jacket in the newly mown grass, he leaning over her slightly, resting on his left arm . . . then those eyes, those penetrating blue eyes that sat across the table from her now . . .

“Kate? Kate, are you alright?” a puzzled expression on his face.

She awoke from her trance with a smile. “I’m fine, let’s go.”

He stood back from the door and let her walk through first. She brushed by his arm for an instant, skin touching skin, and felt a shock shoot through her body. The nameless faces rushing around them in the café and on the street seemed to be operating in a different timeframe. She knew they couldn’t touch each other overtly – this was his hometown and he had a wife and friends that could pop out from the woodwork at any moment. But she longed to touch his fingers, his face. The small talk had been covered in Bewleys. They approached the arch that led into the Green in silence. Shane put his arm on the small of her back as they walked through the gate and she felt a shiver race up it.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been in here,” she commented.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear,
“Eighteen years, give or take a month.”

The bushes were bursting with foliage and every corner of the Green showed the promise of new life and the impending summer. The ducks wandered out onto the pathway, quacking as they demanded bread.

After a few minutes’ silence Shane spoke.

“Are you happy, Kate?”

“Funny question, I think I am. I mean my poor mum is ill and I’ve still got to tie up the loose ends of my marriage but I feel good – even turning forty tomorrow doesn’t bother me!”

“You always were an optimist.”

“And what about you, Shane, are you happy?” Kate looked up straight into his eyes.

He stared back, unwilling to answer at first. Then he turned his head and gestured over to an empty park bench. Kate took his cue and sat down on the wooden seat.

“Well?” she asked again once they were both sitting comfortably, close to each other.

“I don’t think I’m ever happy.” His tone was melancholy.

“Jesus, Shane, you’ve a great job that anyone with an ounce of sense knows is money for old rope, you’ve a lovely wife . . .” She stopped, waiting to see the reaction his face. He was motionless. “You are happy with Natasha, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, she’s a great girl,” he nodded.

Kate was secretly disappointed. “So why aren’t you happy?”

“I don’t know,” he started to shake his head. “There’s this constant weight drags me down for no reason and I just go into myself.”

Kate knew what he was talking about. She had pushed it to the back of her mind but now that he mentioned it she remembered – it was one of the reasons why she hadn’t asked him to join her in the States when she left college.

“What do you think it is?” Kate asked. “Some latent trauma from a previous life?”

“I’m afraid of losing things that are important to me.” He spat out the words as if they tasted bitter on his tongue. “I’m not sure but I think it goes back to losing my dad so young.”

“That can’t have been easy.” She put her hand on top of his and gently tried to brush away his pain with soft strokes.

“But look at you, Kate, how do you do it?” Shane tilted his head in admiration. “You’ve had a fair few dints over the years and here you are at the height of it and you’re still upbeat.”

“It’s just the way I’m made, I guess!” She didn’t know how to answer properly.

“It’s one of the things I love about you.”

They both sat still and silent. He hadn’t used the past tense. Kate didn’t want to read into it but she felt him look at her the way he used to and she froze.

“Maybe we should head back,” she gulped – loud enough for him to hear.

The conversation was entering a dimension that she felt unprepared to deal with. She had to sort her own feelings out carefully before she could delve in too deeply with Shane.

He seemed disappointed that their day was over so soon but acknowledged her suggestion with a nod.

The roof stayed up on the car as they drove back to Greenfield Close. Damien’s Saab was parked in the driveway and Kate hovered on the seat of Shane’s car, glancing at the front door every now and again.

Shane didn’t wait to be asked in – he could see that she was keen to talk to her father.

“It’s been really great seeing you, Kate.” Shane’s mouth widened as he looked into her eyes one more time.

“Thanks for a lovely day, Shane.” Kate appreciated his tact and gently touched him on the cheek before getting out of the car.

“Can I ring you again, while you’re here – and see how Betty is?”

“Of course,” Kate grinned. “It’s always good to see you.”

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut. He gave a short wave and swung his car around in a ninety-degree turn before speeding off down the road.

Kate hesitated for a moment as she walked up the drive. She knew that her father would have all the facts after speaking with the consultant and part of her didn’t want to hear the final analysis of her mother’s operation.

Her father’s silhouette was clear through the glass as he sat at the kitchen table.

“Kate, is that you?” he called.

“Yeah,” she replied as she opened the kitchen door. She went in and sat down opposite him. “How did you get on with the doctor?” Kate was frank like her father and wanted to know the facts.

“The results of the tests are what we expected,” he said with a shake of his head. “I can’t believe it, Kate.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

Shock filled her but the thought of him betraying her mother with her best friend helped her to fight back the tears. She didn’t want to hold her father. A few weeks ago she’d have hugged without reason but now she didn’t want him touching her.

“When is she coming home?” she asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ll get her room ready,” she said coldly.

Damien was stabbed by his daughter’s lack of warmth. This was not like her. Was she angry with him or was it just her way of coping with the impending loss of her mother? Either way, he knew better than to try and reason with Kate when she was like this.

Chapter 9

Annabel licked her fingers clean. The sun-dried tomatoes were definitely an excellent addition to the recipe.

“Annabel, you have been cooking all day!” Rosa gasped.

“I’ve been really enjoying myself,” she said, handing the spoon over to
Rosa to taste. “What do you think?”

Rosa
nodded approvingly as she licked the back of the spoon. “That is very good.”

“I’m going to make humus to sell in the Sunday market!” 

“Very nice,” Rosa said, amused that a woman in Annabel’s position would want to cook for other people. “I go see to the children.”

Annabel continued packing her savoury delights into plastic containers. She chuckled to herself as she pictured Melissa’s face on hearing about her new venture. She and all the other trophy wives would be horrified. She only had one more day to wait before the market, when she would do some research into setting up a stall. She felt a tingle of excitement about this new scheme that sent her blood racing through every sinew in her body. But even better than the thought of the horrified look on Melissa’s face was that of the look on Colin’s when he found out!

Her daydreams were interrupted by the familiar ring of her house-phone.

“Hello?”

It was Damien.

She braced herself on hearing his voice. “Damien, hi! No, this is a good time, how are you?” She froze for an instant on recalling Betty’s illness. “How’s Betty? Oh, I see.” She hesitated for a moment. “Kate hasn’t been in touch,” she said quietly. “I’ve been trying to ring her but we had a bit of a falling out in
Biarritz . . . oh, it was nothing . . . nothing important . . . I will try to ring her again. When is Betty home?” She listened, hoping she wouldn’t have to tell Damien about her confession to his daughter. “I promise I’ll keep trying to contact Kate,” she sighed. “Will you give Betty my best wishes? Bye, Damien.”

* * *

Damien shook as he put the phone down. It had been an attempt to try and find out what was really troubling his daughter but the conversation with Annabel had only left him more curious than before. What could those two possibly have quarrelled about? In all the years he had known Annabel, she was the most solid and trustworthy friend that Kate had. He had never even seen the girls argue. It must be pretty serious for them to fall out totally. Either way it didn’t help his situation. He would just have to humour Kate until she decided to inform him of why she was so upset with him. A thought flashed into his head for an instant and he pondered the chances of Kate finding out about his affair with Annabel. He brushed it aside quickly. Annabel would have told Kate years ago if she was going to at all. But it would explain why she was so angry with both of them.

His thoughts were interrupted by the hall-door opening and Philip and Gloria entering the kitchen.

“Dad,” Philip said with a nod of his head, “what’s the word?”

“Hi, Damien,” Gloria sai
d with an anxious smile.

“Kate’s gone out for a walk, I’ve already told her.” He swallowed hard. “It’s bad news . . . definitely spread to her liver and maybe to some other organs.”

“Shit!” Philip cried out loud. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth. “Is she coming home?”

“Tomorrow,” Damien nodded.

“I’ll put the coffee on,” Gloria said, feeling inadequate.

“Where did Kate go?” Philip asked.

“Burrow beach.”

“How is she?”

“Not good. Philip . . . have you noticed anything strange about her since you got here?”

“She’s going through a divorce, Dad, give her a break,” Philip said, shaking his head.

“But she isn’t taking it out on you!” said Damien.

“And she isn’t taking it out on you either – this isn’t about you – none of it!”

Damien felt the harshness in his son’s words like the slap of a whip – maybe he was in shock.

Gloria rushed over to her husband and combed her fingers gently through his hair. “You’re upset – don’t say any more,” she whispered softly into his ear.

Damien looked at his son and his wife and wished that he could achieve a fraction of their intimacy with someone. He couldn’t honestly say that in their forty years of marriage he and his wife had ever been united. It was no wonder that he had resorted to numerous liaisons to fill the gap.

* * *

It had been a wonderful, horrible day. Kate’s stomach was in a knot as she twisted and turned in bed. The glimmer of moonlight poked every now and again through the gap in her bedroom curtains. She had dreamt of spending a day with Shane like the one that had just passed on the lonely nights when Stefan had started coming home later and later. She used to work in her studio until midnight and then retire for the night with a book before her thoughts would drift off in his direction. But those imaginary days were different to the one she had just spent. Shane was much the same in so many ways but she was aware all through that he had a wife that he was going home to. Would it have been a different type of day if they were both single? 

Hanging over her were images of her mother in
Cornhill Hospital. How must she be feeling tonight? She felt helpless and wished she could do something more proactive for her. Her stomach churned slowly and she felt herself retch slightly. Her bedroom had an en-suite fitted and she was glad of that now. As she approached the white ceramic basin she spewed up the contents of her stomach, missing the tiled floor by centimetres. She knelt down and held her forehead. It was no surprise that her day should end this way. She glanced at her watch and saw that it had turned midnight nearly an hour earlier. She was forty.