Two Days in Biarritz (3 page)

“This place looks nice,
” Kate said and Annabel nodded in agreement.

The women sitting
on the other side of the glass were startled by the two Irishwomen gaping in at them.

“It’s couscous
– have you had it?” Kate asked.

“Please give me some credit –
even Patrick Guilbaud’s have been known to have couscous in some shape or form. To say nothing of my local SuperValu!”

“Patrick who
’s?”

“You’ve been away
from Ireland a long time, haven’t you?” Annabel grinned.

“Too long by the s
ounds of it.”

A
waitress welcomed the women in and placed them at a table for two at the window. The red and white gingham tablecloths gave the restaurant a cheerful ambiance and the walls were painted a bright chalky blue that was set off by navy mosaic tiles. Orange lampshades shaped like tulip heads hung over each table.

“This pl
ace is perfect. Red or white?” Kate asked.

“White or r
osé.”

“
Une carafe de vin rosé, s’il vous plaît
.”

“Your accent is perfect! D
o they think you’re local now?” Annabel applauded her friend.

“You must be joking. I’m always spotted as a foreigner. The bloody gallery owners in
Paris pretend they can’t understand a word I say . . . ten years in the country and they look at me sometimes as if I’m speaking Greek!”

“How’s the painting going?”
Annabel asked.

“I have
an exhibition coming up in November and I have a few galleries that keep me ticking over in between. I’m proud to say I am making a living out of my work which is one major goal achieved before reaching forty.”

“I think you’re fabulous. I wish I were creative.”

“But you are! What about all those parents’ association things you do? See, I do read your emails.” Kate’s brown eyes twinkled as she spoke.

“Thanks
, but to be honest they’re more of an excuse for housewives to get out mid-week and drink too much wine.”

“What about going back to college and finishing your degree
– you always said you would?”

“I wouldn’t have the
time, Kate. There is so much to do in my week. Then of course my main job as chauffeur takes up every afternoon.”

Kate looked at Annabel wit
h a bemused expression, while the waitress poured wine from a ceramic jug into their glasses.

“You like to order?” she asked.

“We’ll have two of those,
s’il vous plaît
!” Annabel said, pointing over at the plates of juicy chicken and couscous in front of the women at the table next to them.

“
Ah, Couscous Royale,”
the waitress exclaimed and took off.

“Yes
, Kate, while you are off painting your mountains in Haute-Pyrenée I am driving from ballet to tap-dancing and rugby to piano lessons. Most of the women in Howth spend half their time in the car or jeep.”

Kate couldn’t hold the laughter back.
“You’ve turned into Mrs Webb!”

Annabel was slight
ly peeved at the remark but after a few moments saw the funny side. As teenagers the two girls would stand at the main road waiting for the Number 86 bus to Howth and when Mrs Webb and her daughter Trudy flashed by in a shiny new BMW Estate they always felt like paupers. Trudy’s dad owned a string of chainstores and everyone knew that they were the richest family in the town.

“Jesus
, Kate, I never thought of it that way. The only difference now is that Howth is teeming with Mrs Webbs and nobody uses the bus any more.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m deadly serious.”

“Not even the teenagers?”
Kate was aghast.

“Once they
’re old enough they drive.”

“Flipping heck, I’m glad I live in
France – most kids can’t afford it over here.”

“How are the boys getting on?”
Annabel asked.

“Do you mean in school or coping with the fact that their father has gone and imp
regnated his personal assistant?”

Annabel felt an
“ouch moment” coming on. She had hoped their conversation about the separation would have come a bit later but Kate was frank and open unlike Annabel’s other friends in Howth – with them she had become too accustomed to skirting around the edges of delicate matters.

“Oh Kate, I’ve been so worried about you
!”

“Me? Annabel, I will be fine and in th
e words of my good friend Ivana: ‘
Don’t get mad, get everything!
’”

“K
ate, I’m so glad to hear you’re taking it this way. When you called me that time I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know how I was going to find you. Little did we know, when organising this trip last year, that things could change so quickly.”

“Only they don’t really happen that quickly. To be honest, I could see it coming for a while.”

“What do you mean?” Annabel tilted her head, surprised at the revelation.

“I mean Stefan was showing al
l the classic signs – away with work for longer periods than usual and not so interested in sex. Washing the pots after dinner and leaving funny receipts from places he couldn’t have been all over the house.”

“You poor pet!
” Annabel’s eyes clouded over. The thought of losing her secure position on the arm of her Colin left her feeling shook.

“It’s not that bad
,” Kate went on. “I’m trying to create something positive out of it all and my paintings are shit-hot at the moment, even though I say so myself. What is it about creativity and crisis that go so well together?”

“At least you have your work,” Annabel nodded.
“It must be lonely with the boys in boarding school.”

“The funny thing is the house has never been busier. I have a mish-mash of interesting friends and artisans living all around and we do a rota of sorts eating in each other
’s houses. There’s Julian – he’s a writer and his wife Eva grows organic vegetables for the market. Fabian who does my garden and everyone else’s around – he’s gay as Christmas but has never said it straight out to any of the rest of them except me, so we don’t comment on his sexuality. Joy and Simon run a holistic centre and hold yoga retreats at different times during the year. They get some array of characters staying with them! Then I have a selection of teacher friends from my dabbling with the young French minds in the local lycée.”

“Don’t you miss the buzz of
Paris?”

“I still get up there
a couple of times a month and then I have a whole crew who whisk me away to the Bastille and Montparnasse to remind me of what civilised, or rather not so civilised, society is like, especially at three and four o’clock in the mornings!”

“You are making me jealous. Your life is so
. . .”

“French?”

“I was going to say well rounded and balanced. I really wasn’t expecting you to be so together when I got here. I’m not quite sure how I expected you to be but this wasn’t it.”

“Honestly. Stefan and I have been coming to the end of our time together for a while.”

“You make it sound like a contract.”

“Well
, that’s what it is, a contract of sorts,” Kate said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Annabel was horrified and her mouth started to d
rop as the waitress placed the
plat du jour
down in front of her. She picked up her glass of rosé to disguise the expression on her face but Kate remained unphased.

“Tuck in,” she said.
“This couscous looks even better from this side of the glass.”

* * *

After lunch Annabel still couldn’t get the word ‘contract’ out of her head. The two women walked along the breathtaking cliffs that swept along the coast. Could Kate really feel that way about her marital vows after all of this time? If the shoe were on the other foot she could imagine feeling very differently. She was defined by her status as Mrs Annabel Hamilton and she wished to remain that way until she died. She had her kids to think about and her mother while she was still alive. They would be distraught if her marriage failed. Annabel had a lot of other people to think about in every aspect of her life and she couldn’t be as flippant as Kate. But it had always been that way. Annabel watched from the sidelines as Kate went ahead and did everything she wanted to do.

“I think in life,
there are two types of people,” she blurted out. “Those who know what they want and go out and get it and those who don’t know what they want so they go around doing what everyone else expects of them!”

“Where did that come from?
” Kate asked. “I was busy taking in the spectacular view and dodging the twenty-foot spray!”

Annabel paused. She had hardly noticed the rugged rocks in hues of yellow ochre and burnt umber jutting out of the sea. Kate was standing at the footbridge that
led to a viewing point and was considering crossing.

She beckoned to Annabel.
“Will we?”

“You see what I mean. I don’t know if I want to go over there and get battered by the waves but you just do it.”

“Are you Okay?”

“I’m deeply troubled by the way you called your marriage a contract actually.”
Annabel’s voice was a pitch higher than usual.

“
I think you were the one who came up with that word. Anyway life’s full of change and that’s the time I was allocated to spend with Stefan, that’s all.”

“How can you be so matter of fact?”

“Annabel, I was married before, remember? It might only have been for a few months but when Harry died I dealt with it and I had two babies waiting to be born inside me.”

Annabel felt naïve and inadequate next to her friend who had experienced so many different facets of human life.

Kate sighed. “Have you ever known me to be without a man . . . well, apart from now.”

“Apart from now? No
, actually.”

“There you go, there’s someone better out there just waiting for me. I did love Stefan
, I was with him long enough, but to be honest he wasn’t the love of my life and you know that.”

Annabel knew exactly what Kate was saying. More than that
, she understood exactly how that felt, but unlike her friend she couldn’t admit it to anyone, much less herself.

“I saw him in
Toulouse, you know, about three years ago,” Kate said in a calm voice. “He was doing a refresher course on the Airbus. He’s a captain now for AirJet.”

“You mean Shane?”
Annabel asked quietly.

Kate didn’t flinch but stared out at the rolling waves.

“I heard he moved to the south side,” Annabel continued. “His wife’s from Dalkey. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“He told me all about his wife. He was only just married and still fid
dling around with the thin gold band on his wedding finger. It didn’t sit comfortably, he said. Do you know it had been ten years since I’d seen him? He hadn’t changed a bit. He still rocked me.”

“I can only imagine. What did you do?”

“I was visiting a small gallery that Fabian told me about. His brother’s friend’s or someone like that. It was a Saturday and I was meant to bring the kids with me but as luck would have it one of the neighbours took them. I had just parked the car and was walking along when I saw him, in a T-shirt and jeans like he used to always wear. Only I think the T-shirt was
Lacoste
.”

“He wouldn’t have been seen dead in that in the old days.” Annabel
was wondering how she didn’t hear this story from Kate before now.

“He walked straight towards me as if we’d arranged to meet. It was so bizarre. He had three hours until the flight simulator was free and he was looking for so
mething to bring back to
Natasha.”

“Easy does it
, girl, I can hear the cattiness in your voice.”

“I’m sure she’s a lovely girl. She’d have to be,
for Shane to marry her. I hated listening to him talk about her though. I mean, the hypocrisy of it! I had a husband and two strapping boys at home and I was so jealous of this woman who I’d never met.”

“
So tell me, what did you do?” Annabel asked.

“
We had the most wonderful lunch . . . then I gave him a blow job!”

“You didn’t?” Annabel’s mouth dropped open.

“Of course I didn’t,” Kate grinned. “But the thought did strike me! It was three bliss- filled hours spent recalling the old days. We sat in a cosy brassérie drinking coffees and staring into each other’s eyes like we were sixteen again. I even drove him back to the airport for his flight test. He said he comes down to Airbus at least once a year for his annual line-check.”