Chapter Five
As Enya settled back against the bamboo and rattan headboard, happy in the knowledge that Aiden was in Rome, safely ensconced in his hotel and not chained to a grimy wall somewhere dark and dismal, she couldn’t decide whether to read a book or watch something on her laptop, unable to fathom her mood.
In truth, it was a little early for bed; she was tired, but not sleepy, desiring rest, but not escape.
It was moments like this she felt the whip of widowhood across her skin, and it stung.
What she wanted was Jonathan by her side for a good old natter, or to speak to Jenny, who she knew was out for supper with Phil.
Angela, her sister, also a good candidate for an uplifting chat, was currently in Portugal with her husband, Frank.
It was a rare and fortunate thing that she, Angela and Jenny lived happily in a triangular friendship.
There was no jealousy if two were together and one was otherwise occupied, a treasured thing for them all.
Angela and Frank had gone to stay with Enya’s parents, who had retired a few years back to a new-build estate in the Algarve.
Angela, who looked like their dad’s side of the family, loved the sunshine, the cuisine, and her afternoon siesta, whereas Enya, who missed her parents dearly, was not a fan of beach life, preferring to be at home with her favourite mug, latest novel, her own bed, and Pickle to curl up to on the sofa.
‘ Boring! ’ was how Angela described her.
‘A little homebody!’ Jenny’s slightly kinder suggestion.
They were both right, but she was resolute. Without Jonathan to accompany her on trips, to chat to at the airport, help put her bag in the overhead locker and give their destination to the taxi driver in his phrasebook Portuguese, it all felt like a bit too much.
The quiet of the house had a rhythm of its own, a singular note of silence that grew loud in her ears.
She wished Aiden were in his room along the corridor.
She wished Jonathan were downstairs checking the doors and windows, about to appear at the top of the stairs on the landing.
She wished for a lot of things. Taking a deep breath, she tried to figure out how she had let her life bleed into other people’s to the point where she now felt almost entirely lost without their definition of her.
How had it happened to her that at almost fifty-five she was defined only as a wife and mother, or worse, a widow! How could she feel this lonely!
She figured there was no harm in trying Angela.
‘Were your ears burning? We were just talking about you.’ Angela answered the phone with this question.
‘They were indeed, hence, the call.’
‘Right, I’m putting you on loudspeaker. We’re out for dinner!’
There was a vague rustling. Enya cringed, knowing her sister would have no qualms about broadcasting their conversation to whomever might be within earshot.
‘No, don’t do that, Angela! I wanted to ask you—’
‘And why, exactly , shouldn’t she do that, young lady?’
Enya closed her eyes; it was obviously too late, Angela had pressed the button. ‘Oh, no reason, Mum! Just wanted to ask her some boring questions and thought I’d spare you all,’ she lied, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘Have you all had a lovely day?’
‘We have. Despite your dad having a bit of a funny turn.’
‘I did not have a funny turn! Ignore her, Enya,’ her dad growled.
‘Not a funny turn?’ her mum shouted. ‘He’s right, it’s perfectly normal to have to pull over in the car and vomit on the verge for no good reason. I’ve told him to go to the doctor in the morning, but you know what he’s like!’
Enya cringed, wondering if they were in a busy restaurant, but sincerely hoping they were the only customers, or that if there were others in close proximity, they were deaf.
‘ He can hear you, you know; I am right here!’ her dad countered. ‘As I say, ignore your mother, love. The reason I was sick was that someone insists on wearing that heavy perfume that makes me gag. We were in a very hot car at midday because Frank wanted to visit the Benagil Caves.’
‘I only said I’d never been, and the next thing I knew I was being bundled into the back seat, don’t blame me!’
‘Hi, Frank!’ she called above the din.
‘And do I have to remind you, it’s the perfume you bought me, Michael!’ her mother shouted.
‘I am well aware of that, Linette , but what I didn’t do was sniff it first. Lord God, I wish I had!’
‘Listen, folks, sounds like you’re having a great time, but the line is really bad, crackly, so I’ll say goodbye and call tomorrow, when we can...’
Enya ran out of steam and ended the call. It was quite possible they wouldn’t even notice she’d gone but might in fact carry on squabbling and shouting for the world to hear.
Her parents had been married for sixty-two years, happily married for the first fifteen, apparently.
Jonathan used to find it a source of much amusement that they so disliked each other that neither would give the other the satisfaction of a divorce and the opportunity to find happiness elsewhere, likening their marriage to a finger-trap puzzle where both were pulling hard.
She wasn’t so sure, but thought their bickering was in fact how they communicated, so used to the tussle back and forth they’d grown used to it, completely unaware of the toll it took on others.
It was, at least, preferable to think of them in this way, irritated by the other, yes, but still happy, deep down.
She lay back and opened up her laptop, staring at the keyboard, and yet with the whole world at her fingertips, any number of movies to choose from, re-runs of shows she’d loved, and two episodes of The Great British Sewing Bee to catch up on, not to mention the endless digital rabbit holes down which she could wander, nothing, absolutely nothing appealed to her.
Without the energy to seek entertainment, she closed down the screen and sank into her pillows.
Reaching over, she ran her palm over the mattress next to her. A cool spot, awaiting the warmth of a person who was not coming back. Not ever.
‘How? How can you not be here, Jonathan? This was not the plan!’
She felt the familiar tightening in her chest and breathed slowly, wanting to keep the demons at bay, not to feel the panic that started in the floor beneath her and rose up like water, until she was engulfed, surrounded and certain that one more second of it would see her drown.
These feelings too were something that she kept secret.
It was a delight to see Angela’s number flash up on her phone.
‘Oh my God! Sorry, Ens, I had no idea Mum and Dad were going to go for it like that. It’s been non-stop all day, they’re driving me nuts!’
‘They’re your parents, they’re supposed to drive you nuts. It’s the rule.’
She pictured Aiden leaving the car and walking to the terminal without looking back to offer a smile or a wave.
It did feel a little like the natural order of things, the slow twanging of the frayed ropes that kept children and parents bound, so that come the inevitable, the loss was not half as acute as it could be.
Unless they were taken too soon. Aiden had been twenty-four when he’d lost his dad, and this, she knew, was way, way too soon.
‘If you say so.’ Angela sighed. ‘Frank’s driving me mad too, moaning because he can’t get the snooker on the telly, and the internet is slow and his knee is playing up.
I honestly don’t know why we bother coming away at all.
I looked at a map today and saw that I could probably get a bus to anywhere in Europe – I was tempted to grab my water bottle and Kindle and leave them all to it.
Not that they’d notice I’d gone. Not till someone needed a wet wipe or a mint imperial. I always carry both.’
Enya laughed. ‘You can’t jump on a bus or run away, because you’re there checking on our parents. You’re an angel. I can see the glint of your halo from here.’
‘You’re right, I really am!’ Angela laughed too. ‘Anyway, I’m hiding on the beach right now, said I was going to the loo, and I’ve snuck around the back of the café to call you. What’s up, chick? And don’t say nothing, we both know you only call late at night when something’s bothering you.’
Enya felt the swell of love for her sister, who knew her well enough to understand a return call had been needed. ‘It’s been a strange day.’
‘Did Aiden get off all right?’
‘Yep, I dropped him at the airport, and he’s arrived safely.’
‘And Holly has managed to survive in the hours since he left, have we checked on her, sent a care package?’
She could hear the humour in her sister’s tone. It was funny, this all-round concern for Holly, yet no one seemed to be checking on Enya, who had spent many, many hours on her own, trying to survive. ‘Yes, she has, so far.’
‘Good, good. So, what’s up?’
Enya took her time, enjoying the connection that felt unrushed, as good as chatting face to face.
‘I was in a minor . . . erm, car thing . . . car-crash thing . . . someone bashed my car.’
‘No! Oh Ens! Are you hurt?’
Her lovely sister’s concern was instant and obvious.
‘No, no, nothing like that. I was stationary. He just...’
Hit my car... made me smile... I liked the look of him... liked talking to him even more... I’m aware I sound like some saddo who’s been flattered by a wink from a passing driver as I stood at the bus stop...
‘He just what, love?’
She had momentarily forgotten that her sister was on the end of the line.
‘Oh! He drove into me, the... the passenger door in fact, there’s a big old dent.’
‘Jeez, well thank goodness no one was standing by your car, they’d have been squished!’
‘Yup.’ This a very Angela path to walk, straight to the worst scenario, the unpalatable. ‘But they weren’t. So...’
‘Did you get his details?’