Chapter Five #2
‘Yes, he was a... erm... a man. A driving, man.’ She pictured his tanned forearms, his chunky watch, the underside of his wrist, the soft fringe falling over his face.
‘Enya, have you been drinking?’
She laughed loudly. ‘No! I’m just thinking about the crash, although crash makes it sound so much more than it was, more of a bump, a bump with meaning.
Not aggressive, more a second’s lapse in concentration and then.
.. bam! But it was odd, a strange encounter really.
Not sure how to describe it without sounding like a loon, I wasn’t going to mention it, probably won’t tell Jen, but the man was. ..’
‘Enya! You sound a bit giggly? Are you telling me you fancy the man who smacked into your car? Or am I reading too much into it?’
She could hear the excitement in her sister’s voice and wondered if this was a good idea, to open up in this way.
‘Fancy is a strong word.’
‘Is it?’ Angela laughed again.
‘It wasn’t that straightforward. It was nothing, but he was...’ She ran out of words and smiled at the memory of him driving off with that song playing.
‘Enya, I love you, but I’m tired. Mum will already have sent out a search party, Frank will be cursing me for abandoning him, and Dad will have nodded off into his pastel de nata, I’m plonked on wet sand and there’s a young couple necking on a sunbed to my left, so I don’t have time for the preliminaries, just tell me – and I know this is huge, but you liked this man, and then? ’
‘And then nothing.’ She sat up straight and took a deep breath.
‘You’re right, it was huge. I mean it was nothing, but it was the first time I’ve felt, I don’t know how to say it, like I wanted to spend some time with someone, I wanted to look at him.
Wanted to touch him.’ She felt the spread of a blush, this level of candour not something she was used to.
‘So, you found him attractive?’ Angela cut to the chase.
‘I... I did. And it’s weird and new and unwelcome and disrupting.’ She used the words that didn’t come easily.
‘Only if you let it be, my love. Only if you choose to remain in your ice den.’
Enya jolted a little. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means that you choose to hide away. Not physically, but you know how some women are really good at giving off warmth and come-and-get-me vibes?’
‘Yes.’ She knew women like that.
‘Well, you’re the opposite of that. You’re an Arctic fox, cool, mysterious, and quite unapproachable, icy.’
‘I don’t think Jenny would describe me as icy!’
‘Of course she wouldn’t. You only reserve it for men! It’s a skill. A superpower, you can repel an interested mate at fifty paces with no more than a raise of your eyebrow and a fixed expression of disinterest.’
‘Really? An Arctic fox?’ Enya wasn’t sure if she was more offended by the analogy or her sister’s choice of animal; surely if she was any animal she wouldn’t be a fox, they were sly and wily, chicken nabbers.
‘Or a penguin or any other chilly beast you care to name. Any creature who would undeniably benefit from popping on a woolly scarf and having a bowl of soup instead of standing in the cold.’
‘Is that how you see my life?’ It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
‘A little bit, yes.’ Angela took a deep breath.
‘When I call you on a Sunday morning and tell you where we’ve walked, any pub we’ve been to, the mates we’ve seen, trips planned, you reply with something funny that Pickle has done or tell me what Holly has made you as a gift, or you give me an update on how your seedlings have sprouted. ’
‘Because that’s my life!’
‘And that’s exactly my point!’ Angela pressed. ‘You never used to be like this.’
‘I’d like to see how many pub lunches you might fancy if you lost Frank.’ Her fast and sharp retort one that she would undoubtedly ponder and possibly regret later. It was painful to hear her life described by the small things that had become the big things.
‘Not many I’m guessing, for a while, but then I like to think I’d come out the other side and realise that I need to choose differently.’
‘Now, why didn’t I think of that? It’s so obvious, Angela!’ She comically smacked her forehead with her palm. ‘I need to choose differently! Quick, pass my laptop so I can upload Grindr or whatever it is!’
‘I don’t think you’d get many dates on Grindr, my darling.’
‘You don’t know till you try!’ Enya didn’t want to think of herself as undateable.
‘And don’t be so defensive, I’m not having a go at you or criticising.
I’m just saying how I see it, and I’m delighted at the thought that you might be putting your head above the parapet, getting out there.
You’re young and fabulous, and Jonathan wouldn’t want you hiding in your snow den.
He was many things, that brother-in-law of mine, but mostly he was generous and smart, and he loved you far too much to allow you to let life pass you by. That much I do know.’
Enya shrank down on to the mattress at the thought of her lovely husband, placed her hand on her chest and felt the throb of loss, like a drum, beating out its mournful rhythm that sat like background noise to her thoughts.
I don’t want to have to put myself out there, I want you back...
‘Would you say he liked you too, this man, did you get that feeling?’
Enya thought about this.
‘I’d say possibly, yes. Not sure how to tell, he might just be nice to everyone. One of those people.’
‘If you got the sense he liked you, he probably did. The question is, what are you going to do about it?’
‘Oh, nothing! Nothing! God no!’
Just the thought was enough to invite her potential panic to lap at her heels. It was a frightful thought. She was not ready, not nearly ready. No way. She wanted Jonathan. She wanted him to be here, right now!
‘Nope, don’t be a pessimist! You have his number, are you going to call him?’
‘No! Well, maybe, but only to sort the car repair, but even then, I’m not sure.’ She closed her eyes tightly and wanted the conversation to end. ‘I should probably let you go, poor Frank is alone with Mum and Dad right now.’
‘Was he wearing a wedding ring?’
Angela, it seemed, was keener on chatting than getting back to the family dinner.
‘No. But I was. I am.’
Enya closed her fingers around the gold band on her finger that was so much more than a sliver of shiny metal.
‘The thing is, my love, he might right now be on the phone to his brother, explaining how he met a woman, a woman he liked and who he thinks might like him back, but he’s unsure of what to do next, as she was wearing a wedding ring.’
‘I guess so.’
‘The only way to know one way or the other if he is attached, or to find out if it has legs, is to make contact. That’s the advice from your big sister, who always knows best.’
‘Oh yeah? Three words for you, Angela: warm ham sandwich!’
‘Oh don’t, it might have been nearly forty years ago, but I swear I can still taste it! Anyway, better go, you’re right, there’s bound to be something going on at the table that will need refereeing. Speak soon, be brave, I love you!’
‘Love you.’
Be brave . . . if only.
Pickle, disturbed from her rest as Enya shifted her legs, looked less than happy, and coiled into a bun on top of the duvet.
‘What’s up, pussycat? You finding it hard to settle too?’
Pickle purred.
‘Can you believe what your Auntie Angela said? You don’t think I’m icy, do you, puss? No, you don’t. It’s quite insulting really. I’m warm, approachable. If I were an animal, I’d be a faithful hound or a sweet lop-eared rabbit. Anyway, if it is true, how in the world do I stop being an Arctic fox?’
She spoke into the ether as this thought persisted.