Chapter 15 Truth Piñata
TRUTH PIN?TA
PRESENT DAY
In the watery light of day, Catherine stripped down to her swimwear and wriggled her toes in the dewy grass. The cool morning air prickled her skin with goosebumps, and she wrapped her Dryrobe tighter around herself.
The Dryrobe had been another thoughtful gift from Penny, the woman who anticipated Catherine’s needs before she’d even realised them herself.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have given up on Penny so easily. But perhaps she’d never really had a choice; Penny had fallen in love with someone else, after all.
A small group of swimmers — three older women and a man — were already wading into the river, gasping as the fresh water lapped their bare skin.
She used to watch these sorts of people with concern, wondering why anyone would want to swim in the river when there was a perfectly good swimming pool nearby, without the hazards of rocks, reeds, and any other unsanitary things that might be adrift in the British waterways.
However, after a while, her concern had turned to curiosity. She observed people emerging from the fresh water invigorated in a way she’d never seen at the local leisure centre — the only glow one got there came from irritated skin courtesy of the chlorinated water.
When she’d first suggested wild swimming to Penny, her friend had looked at her sideways.
But within a fortnight, Penny had done some research, bought them both Dryrobes, and they hadn’t looked back since.
If too much time had passed, Catherine longed for the sharp gasp of air as the icy water jolted every nerve awake.
She closed her eyes and tipped her face to the pale-yellow sun streaking the sky with the pinky-promise of a nice day.
“Oi oi, Dryrobe wanker!” Penny panted up alongside her, breaking the moment’s reverie.
“You’re wearing yours, too.” Catherine beamed at the sight of her dishevelled friend and leaned in to kiss her rosy cheeks.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, babe. Lawrence got home last night, and—”
Catherine held up a hand. “Spare me the details.”
“There are no details to spare; I just couldn’t get back to sleep with all his snoring.” Penny sat on the bench to pull off her yoga pants.
The two of them piled their belongings at the end of the picnic table and hobbled along the grassy bank to the water’s edge.
“It’s going to be freezing,” said Penny, rubbing her arms.
“It’s good for us; reminds us we’re alive.”
“What does that even mean?”
Catherine tilted her head at the question. “It’s just something people say, isn’t it? I suppose it’s about mindfulness, remembering to be present and live in the moment. Like meditation, but wetter.”
“Or perhaps it’s that once you’ve felt how cold the water is, you know you couldn’t possibly be dead?”
Catherine scoffed a laugh, and in a rush of affection for her cynical friend, she hugged her arm. “Think of all the endorphins; you’ll be in a great mood after this. Maybe you’ll even forgive Lawrence for snoring.”
“Not likely, but he’s taking me out to dinner tonight, so that might make up for it.”
“Right, here goes.” Catherine released Penny’s arm and waded in.
The cold gripped her ankles, but she pushed past the initial pain and took long strides into the river.
The water squeezed around her middle, pushing the air to the top of her lungs until it caught in her throat.
She slowly let the water support her weight until her shoulders were submerged, then she lightly kicked off from the riverbed.
Once her breathing relaxed, the gentle flow of the river pulled the thoughts from her mind, and calm descended over her.
Blossom, bees, birdsong… and Penny thrashing through the water.
“Jesus H. Christ. I think my tits have frozen. They’re like a couple of iced buns, look.” Penny thrust her chest through the surface, exposing the taut fabric of her swimsuit over pebble-hard nipples. Catherine laughed and gave her a light splash.
“Loz says we’re mad, by the way, and on this one isolated occasion, I think he might be right.”
“It’s lovely.” Catherine sculled through the water, taking in the lush green surroundings. “Peaceful,” she added. Penny seemed to take the hint, and for a blissful moment, soft silence rippled between them.
“Very mindful, very demure.” Penny sucked in a deep breath and exhaled with a hum.
Catherine prised one eye open and looked at her peace-shattering friend, which Penny took as a cue to resume conversation.
“So, how’s your hungry little pussy doing?”
Catherine shook her head and turned away to hide her grin. “My neighbour’s cat,” she pronounced each word slowly. “Juni—”
“Juni?” Penny’s lips twisted in a teasing smile.
“Yes, short for Juniper. He’s fine… he’s a sweetheart, actually. I’ve rather enjoyed his company. You know we were talking about fresh starts the other day?”
Penny narrowed her eyes.
“Well, I’ve been thinking… maybe I should get myself a cat.”
Penny vigorously shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll be another excuse for you to avoid putting yourself out there. You’ll wither into one of those lonely old cat ladies.”
“Pen! That’s an awful thing to say. I just thought it might be nice to have another being to come home to in the evenings.”
Catherine often recommended pet ownership to her clients.
She’d even written a blog about it after reading up on the myriad health benefits of pets — lowering cortisol, increasing serotonin and dopamine, not to mention the joyful distraction…
from the yawning canyon of emptiness stretching out before me.
Penny frowned.
“Juni makes these cute little chirping noises. It’s very endearing.”
“I think this freezing water is addling your brain.”
Penny turned to swim for the bank, but Catherine stayed put, trailing her fingers through the water and trying not to think about how similar Penny’s words had been to Francesca’s.
Shrivelled old spinster.
Lonely old cat lady.
Was that really how people saw her? At fifty-six, she wasn’t old. And she certainly wasn’t withered, especially not here, in this cold water where she felt so alive with her blood pumping and endorphins soaring.
But the word lonely echoed in her mind, and she had to admit that loneliness had crept up on her when she hadn’t been looking.
At first, it had just stood quietly in the corner.
Now, more often than not, it walked alongside her, weighing her down like a cold arm draped around her shoulder, corroding the shine off even the brightest of occasions.
And now here she was considering companionship from a feline friend.
Something steady, warm, and constant in her life, other than work. Was that really so dysfunctional?
No — dysfunctional is constructing your neighbour’s flatpack furniture without being asked, just so you can hang out with their cat. Best not to mention that part to Penny.
“Are you staying in there all day?” Penny waved an arm in the air and jiggled about in her Dryrobe.
Catherine sighed and started swimming back towards the grassy bank.
“Can you swim a little faster? I’m starving and I have very cold boobies,” Penny yelled.
Catherine had to giggle at her ridiculous friend and the shocked faces of the passing elderly couple walking a white Scottie dog.
With a forced smile, Penny turned to them and curtsied in her robe.
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’m a lawyer.”
They eyed her up and down, shuffling away as fast as their withered legs would allow.
Dried and dressed, they wandered through the park, past the Royal Pump Rooms and over the bridge toward the restaurant they loved — the one with the terrace that overlooked the river.
Despite the chill in the air, they opted for a table outside and were shown to one of the few that were bathed in sunshine.
Catherine relaxed into the chair, relishing the sun warming her through to her bones, as Penny rummaged around in her oversized tote bag, muttering something about sunglasses.
Overhead, a jet stream scored the sky with a white slash and conjured thoughts of the woman in red — the flight attendant, ex-flight attendant, whose name Catherine still hadn’t learned despite their recent encounters around town.
“Ah-ha!”
Catherine opened one eye and observed Penny liberating a pair of tortoise-framed sunglasses from a tangle of headphones, which were also looped around a bunch of keys.
She sometimes wondered how the two of them were friends — former lovers — when they were so categorically different, but she loved Penny because of who she was, not despite it.
Maybe that was why their friendship worked as well as it did.
“What are you grinning at?” Penny slid the sunglasses over her eyes and sat back.
“Nothing. Just enjoying the sunshine, the sound of the river, and your company. This is lovely.” Catherine angled her face back to the sun.
“What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?”
Penny’s question was innocent enough, but like a pin, it popped the bubble.
Because as lovely as this was, afterwards she’d go home alone, the rest of the weekend stretching out like an ocean to the horizon.
She wouldn’t admit it to Penny, but Juni really was the only bright spot, and he wasn’t even her cat, which somehow made the whole thing seem sad and desperate.
“Oh, not much on. Just relaxing really,” she mustered.
Their drinks order came, a bucket-sized cup of tea for Penny, and Catherine’s oat milk latte served in a tall glass, which she wrapped her cold hands around.
“So, are you going to fill me in on all the latest with the deplorable Daltons?”
“Can I ask you something first?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want you to think… to think I’m being weird.”
“But you are weird. That’s precisely why we’re friends. We’re two big weirdos together.” Penny chuckled and sipped her tea.
“No, I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m dredging things up that we’ve put behind us. You’re so happy with Lawrence and I love him to bits. So, I don’t want you to think for one moment that I’m not delighted for you. It’s just that…” The words stuck in her throat.
“Oh, out with it, babe!”
Catherine sighed. “When you and I were… you know…”
“Fucking?”
Catherine’s eyes widened, and she glanced around at the other diners, thankfully all enjoying their meals and paying them no heed whatsoever.
She leaned in and spoke three times quieter than Penny had.
“Yes, fucking.” The word felt awkward in her mouth.
“Well, did you ever want more? You know, like a proper relationship with me, more than just…”
“Being fuck-buddies?”
Catherine pressed her lips together and nodded.
At that moment, the waiter arrived from behind her with their food.
There was zero possibility he hadn’t just heard Penny, who was jiggling with laughter and hiding her mouth behind her mammoth mug of tea.
Whilst the waiter set their plates down, Catherine’s question hung over them like an ominous pinata, because now that she’d put it out there and handed Penny the stick, she wasn’t sure she wanted it cracked open.
Penny picked up her cutlery and tucked into her poached eggs. She popped a loaded forkful into her mouth and released a satisfied groan. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, fuck-buddies.”
Catherine shot her a disapproving look and made a start on her own meal — creamy avocado toast with sautéed mushrooms.
Penny smirked. “Babe, you were emotionally unavailable,” she said matter-of-factly before crunching down on a piece of toast.
As Penny’s response registered, Catherine’s eyes grew round. “What on earth makes you say that?”
“Well, for one, you’d never let me stay at your place. You always insisted we went back to mine, even when yours was closer and it meant we’d have to get a taxi.”
“I—”
“Don’t deny it. You know it’s true. But it wasn’t just about your flat. You were never really prepared to let me in. I’m not the shrink here—”
“Psychotherapist.”
“Sure.” Penny grinned and took a long sip of tea. “I’m not the therapist, but if I were to take a wild stab, I’d say you closed yourself off after Francesca hurt you like she did all those years ago.”
“That was literally decades ago.”
“And it’s been how long since you let yourself have a proper relationship?”
Catherine opened her mouth to respond.
“I’m not talking about flirting with internet weirdos or having fuck-buddies.” Penny gestured with her fork.
“Fork-buddies?”
Penny narrowed her eyes. “I see you, Catherine Truscote.”
As much as Catherine didn’t want to believe that her emotional growth had been stunted by a love affair that expired over three decades ago, Penny’s theory made sense.
She’d spent her entire professional life helping other people fight their demons but had never raised the courage to confront her own.
She’d turned her space into a fortress and wrapped her routine around herself like a thick layer of bubble wrap; nothing could penetrate it — not even joy.
Penny placed a warm hand over Catherine’s cold one and peered into her face. “Love can only grow in the soil of vulnerability.”
Catherine frowned. “Did you just quote Brené Brown at me?”
Penny gasped with mock offence. “How dare you! I made that up. But I do love Brené with all my heart. Maybe you need to see a therapist?”
“I am a therapist.”
“All the more reason you of all people should know it’d be good to talk to someone qualified!”
“Who needs qualified?” Catherine grinned. “You’ve just sat there like Bargain Brené with your glossy-magazine psychology and managed to unpack over three decades of my bullshit in a single breath.”
Penny shimmied her shoulders and fluttered her eyelashes. “Penny Weiss, lawyer and life-coach.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get carried away.”
Something shifted in the weighty pause that settled between them.
“Not that it changes anything now, but I tried, you know,” said Penny.
“Tried what?”
“Tried to get you to open up when we were…”
“Fucking.” Catherine finished the sentence quietly before Penny did.
“You’re so sexy when you swear.”
“I know,” Catherine smirked.
“Things might’ve been different between us, is what I’m saying. But I needed more than you were able to give at the time… and then there was Lawrence.”
“Lovely Lawrence.”
“He is rather.” Penny nodded in agreement.
“Well, at least it wasn’t because I’m unlovable.”
Penny leaned across and cupped Catherine’s face in her hands. “Far from it. You’re wonderful. And who knows what might come along if you open yourself up.”
“Maybe, just maybe… it’ll be a lovely little kitten who cracks open my withered old heart.”
Penny smooshed Catherine’s cheeks together, and laughter bounced between them.