Chapter SIXTEEN
Ben
In the evening, I drive on to the lane at Katie’s Cottage, around the back by the row of whitewashed outhouses, and I leave the car engine running while I wait for Lou. Our table is booked for 7.30 p.m., so I’m a little early, but our plan is to take our time over a drink first before we make the short walk from Doc’s Bar to The Taphouse, another local place that’s full of memories for both of us.
Katie’s Cottage is a treat for the eyes, no matter from what angle you look at it. I imagine it’s like a Tardis inside, with all the nooks and crannies from days gone by, as well as a modern-day renovation that has still managed to keep all the old-world charm of the place.
It was once a milking farm according to my late father, with crops of potatoes and vegetables in the adjoining fields, but now the thick white stone walls frame a perfectly manicured garden.
My mind drifts back to the day Lou and I spent a rare day in summer together, before everything went terribly wrong between us. I’d come back from my studies in Paris for my father’s sixtieth birthday and, as chance would have it, Lou was back at home after touring around America.
‘Since it’s usually either lashing with rain or snow is thick on the ground when we’re together, how about we do something totally different when we can?’
she suggested to me.
‘Any ideas?’
She was eighteen then, I was just a year older, and we thought we’d all the time in the world to be together when it suited, both believing that a future together was inevitable.
‘I could borrow my dad’s car and we could hit the coast for a beach day?’
I said, but I knew there was something else on her mind by the way she scrunched up her face.
‘Too obvious? I love how you ask me for suggestions when you’ve already a very firm plan in that clever head of yours.’
She led me to the bike shed at Ballyheaney House, where we found Cordelia’s old Raleigh as well as my Cannondale, which was barely used. Then we raided the fridge and packed a picnic of home-made sandwiches, fruit and a bottle of fizzy wine before we hit the roads of Bellaghy, stopping off right here at Katie’s Cottage along the way.
‘There she is,’
she marvelled, waving at an elderly lady who was washing the windows.
‘That’s Katie, or Kathleen, who owns the place. Isn’t it the most precious place you’ve ever laid eyes on?’
‘It’s special,’
I said, already calculating how much it would take to renovate and modernise the cottage from what I could see from afar.
‘My dream is to live here one day,’
she told me, her eyes like saucers as she drank in its beauty.
‘But I know it will probably never, ever come up for sale. Not in my lifetime, anyhow.’
Yet here she is.
I spot her through the white net curtains that hang on the sash windows, just like Katie had back in the day, but when I look closer I can see that she’s on the phone, so I sit back and turn up some music while I wait.
Seconds later though, I look again to see how she’s wiping away tears while trying not to ruin her make-up. Should I go inside to see if she’s OK? Or should I mind my own business and give her space to come out to me in her own time?
I decide to wait, but I can’t help glancing in every few seconds in case she needs me.
‘Are you and Lou going on a date?’
Ava had asked me before I left Ballyheaney House only a few minutes ago. She, Mum and Uncle Eric had big plans for an evening of board games and gnocchi, as his Italian theme in the kitchen continued.
‘Or is it only a dinner meeting about the party?’
I looked towards my mother, who just shrugged her shoulders while Uncle Eric waved his hands, which told me I was getting no input or advice from them on how to answer.
Not so long ago, Ava had been very keen for me to date, and for a time she was as bad as my friends Matt and Vic as she threw names around like confetti.
The lady who worked in the corner shop. The one off the telly who presented the weather. Everyone, it seemed, was fair game.
Until I tried out dating, that is. Then she couldn’t decide if she wanted a person she hadn’t even met to be her stepmother instantly, or if she wanted to keep me all to herself.
So, even though she’s on the verge of becoming a teenager now, I’m reminded to tread carefully.
‘Lou is a very dear friend to me,’
I tell my daughter.
‘She is very kind and very funny too, but we have a lot of planning still to do for the party. And I promise you that if I ever go dating with anyone, you’ll be first to know.’
Mum nodded her head and kept quiet, as did Uncle Eric. Ava too seemed pleased with my response, but she wasn’t letting it go that easily.
‘I bet she’ll look very pretty,’
she said.
‘I really like her style.’
‘And if you do decide it’s a date and not a business meeting,’
my mother said to me.
‘you can let yourself in quietly. We won’t wait up either way.’
From what I can see from the car, Ava was bang on with her prediction. Lou is wearing red, which was always her colour with her dark hair. I wish I knew what has upset her though.
What could it be? Has she had bad news?
And then it dawns on me. Gracie has decided to stay in New York for Christmas. That will be it, for sure.
I get out of the car and make a dash through the rain for the back door of the cottage, then I quietly make my way into the living area where Lou now rocks back and forward on an old-fashioned floral armchair, still talking to her daughter.
‘I’m not crying. I think I’ve got a bit of a head cold, that’s all,’
she sniffles, even though I can see the tears in her eyes.
‘And you’ve no need to cry either, Gracie, my love. I’m happy for you. I said from the beginning that whatever you chose, I’d be right behind you every step of the way.’
She signals to me to have a seat, so I do so on the armchair across from her, already wishing I could do something to ease her pain. She used to love a cup of hot tea with sugar when she was feeling low, but she might not take sugar in her tea any more. She might not even take tea any more. Plus, I’ve never set foot in her new home before now, so I don’t want to be presumptuous by rooting around her kitchen.
‘Yes, of course I’m disappointed, but I’ll be fine,’
she tells her daughter.
‘No, no, you don’t need to make any plans yet for your next visit. You’re a busy girl and this is a big year for you with your studies. Let’s take everything one step at a time. I’ll see you very soon, baby, I promise. We’ll make it happen. We have lots more happy times to look forward to, you’ll see.’
She hangs up and puts her head in her hands, letting her true feelings show.
‘I’m so sorry, Lou.’
‘Can I get you anything?’
I ask her.
‘Tea? Or wine? Water, even?’
She looks up at me, her beautiful eyes smudged with black mascara.
‘No, I’m fine, but thank you. I’ll go and fix up my face and we’ll get going,’
she tells me.
‘If we hang about here for much longer, I’ll be a bigger mess and I won’t be in a fit state to go out. I’ve been looking forward to our dinner all day, so I don’t want to sit here and stew or it will make matters worse.’
I stand up at the same time as she does.
‘You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’
‘I do want to,’
she says, then she breaks down and properly sobs her heart out. I can’t just watch her cry like this, so I sit beside her and I smooth down her hair and hush her like I used to do in the old days.
‘I held on and held on, but deep down I knew it would come to this,’
she says through her tears.
‘I saw it coming as time ticked on, yet I still held on to hope, even with only a few days to go.’
‘That’s totally understandable,’ I say.
‘I mean, how na?ve of me to think I’d have her all to myself when I moved here?’
she asks.
‘Gracie can’t split herself in two when it comes to special occasions. I’ve created this horrible, heartbreaking situation where we’re oceans apart at Christmas. I put us in this mess by moving away.’
I put my hand on her cheek and wipe away her tears.
‘Please don’t blame yourself for starting a new chapter,’
I say to her.
‘You’ve made a very big dream come true by coming here, Lou. Gracie wouldn’t want that, and you don’t deserve it either.’
‘It really hurts, Ben.’
‘Yes, and it’s OK to be sad,’
I say to her softly.
‘Distance is hard, but it doesn’t in any way take away the love and emotional connection you have with your girl. This is part of growing up, isn’t it? You give them wings and then they fly. And you love it but you hate it too. You and Gracie have so much still to look forward to.’
She looks up at me, her lips still trembling as she does her best to pull herself together.
‘I left here at twenty-one for New York, almost the same age as she is now, and I only ever came back home twice for Christmas,’
she reminds me.
‘I never for one second thought of how my mother felt being so far apart, but now I know what she was hiding. I’m hurting, but I only ever want what’s best for Gracie. If she’s happy, then I’m happy too, even if the rejection stings like a bitch.’
I can’t help but laugh just a little.
‘She isn’t rejecting you, Lou, I promise,’
I tell her.
‘She probably tossed a coin or something similar to help her make a very tricky decision. And no matter which way the coin fell, someone was going to be hurt. This time it’s you, next time it will be her dad.’
‘She put both our names in a hat,’ she says.
‘I thought as much,’
I tell her.
‘Now, as pretty as your home is from what I’ve seen so far, I think you’re looking way too good to be kept indoors, so how about you go get sorted and I’ll wait for you in the car?’
‘OK.’
‘Let’s go and have a wonderful evening together, best we can.’
She stands up and blows out a deep breath.
‘I’ll be right there,’
she says, making her way out of the sitting room through a latched door while I go back outside and warm up the car for her.
The restaurant is thronged with couples, family get-togethers and the odd staff party when we get there, all adding to the bustling, festive atmosphere and the perfect place to lift the spirits.
With our later-than-expected arrival, we’ve decided to forgo our pre-drinks and go straight to our table, which is ready and waiting. It’s just as warm and friendly there as I remember, even if the decor has changed to a tasteful brown and gold, made all the cosier with lit-up garlands along the walls and a vintage Santa Claus as a quirky centrepiece by the modern bar.
‘I’m tempted to go all out and have the Christmas dinner,’
Lou says as she scours the options on offer once we’ve ordered drinks and heard the special dishes of this evening.
‘Everything looks so good, I can’t decide.’
‘That’s a good sign. Take your time,’
I say to her.
‘I’ve never seen you wearing glasses before. You suit them.’
She catches my eye above the menu, flashing a very sultry smile. I already know I’m in trouble. I knew this might be the case in such an intimate setting. It’s one thing going for a drink together, but sharing a table for two over dinner puts us in an entirely different realm.
‘This is surreal, isn’t it?’ she says.
‘Surreal? Yes, I suppose it is,’
I reply.
‘Did you ever think this would happen again?’
She lays the menu down and takes her reading glasses off.
‘It depends on what this is,’
she says, firing the loaded statement at me.
I know exactly where she is coming from, but it’s a bit early in the evening for old wounds to seep through.
‘This. Us.’
‘If you mean us spending time together,’
she says.
‘then yes, I thought coming back here upped the odds of our paths crossing at some point.’
‘It’s nice,’
I tell her, doing my best to keep things as light-hearted as possible, even though she’s had a tough start to the evening.
‘Yes, it’s very nice,’
she says, unable to hide her smile. She takes a sip of her wine.
‘I never thought we’d share dinner alone again, Ben. No. I didn’t ever allow my mind to go there. It was too much to handle, but I did imagine seeing you again. I enjoyed that fantasy a lot. The rest I couldn’t cope with.’
I can only agree.
‘So, what’s it going to be then?’
I ask, swiftly refreshing the conversation before we find ourselves on murky roads.
‘Turkey, ham and all the trimmings? I’m tempted by the fillet steak.’
‘Now, there’s a surprise,’
she jokes.
‘Some things never change,’
I reply.
‘Do you remember when we came here one year on the night before the party?’
She lights up at the memory.
‘How could I forget?’
she says.
‘We sped through the final preparations like Tasmanian devils to get here before they closed.’
‘You gave me a Pink Floyd vinyl.’
‘Wasn’t that the year before?’
No, it was that year because I remember I’d bought you a fine gold chain I’d picked up in a market in Bali.’
‘With a turquoise stone,’
she recalls.
‘That’s the one.’
‘I still have it, you know.’
‘The necklace?’
‘Yes, the necklace,’
she tells me.
‘I never wore it since, but I kept it tucked away and when I moved back here six months ago, I found it in Mum’s house right where I’d left it, at the back of the drawer in my bedside locker.’
I feel my heart soar, even if we are picking at scabs in a way I’m uncomfortable with. I can’t believe she kept it.
‘We have so much old ground we could go over,’
I say, hoping to nip this conversation in the bud.
‘But like you say, we are where we are now, so let’s try and enjoy the present.’
‘Yes, and since we’ve twenty-plus years of life experience behind us, we should hopefully be a lot more mature than we were back then,’ she says.
We both hold up our hands in agreement, then make .
‘peace out’
sign which makes us laugh. It used to be a regular signal between us when we wanted to be friends again after a petty argument.
‘Thanks, Ben,’
she says to me after a few moments of silence.
‘Thanks? What for?’
‘This,’
she says.
‘Tonight. Everything. For asking me to help out with the party. For being you in the way I always loved and remembered. I know I’m being a bit of a nettle over Gracie, but I can’t tell you how much I enjoy being around you again.’
‘Ditto,’
I tell her.
‘You always seemed to have this way of helping me find the right track, or at least you made me feel like my world wasn’t actually falling apart when I thought it was. Thanks for what you said earlier about Gracie too. It helped me a lot.’
I raise a glass and we clink together, in a quiet nod to whatever comes next for Lou and me. She orders monkfish with a total change of heart, which is so Lou Doherty, while I stick to my fillet steak, and as we eat together, we fill in the many gaps of what we’d learned and loved about the twenty years before.
‘It’s the morose stares that get to me,’
I tell her, making a very sad face to illustrate my point.
‘And they’re still everywhere. The school gates were the worst, and don’t even start me on parents’
night. Or the Christmas concert when in junior school. Ava always seemed to have a lead role, making it even more of a pity party, but people forget you’ve got functioning ears when you’re a single parent. The kindness, don’t get me wrong, that was immense too, but the whispers of pity have become a little bit tiring, especially in front of the child.’
Lou covers her mouth as she tries to chew and laugh at the same time.
‘I know my situation was different, but sometimes it was no easier in New York, believe me,’
she says, much to my surprise.
‘I sent Gracie to the smallest school I could find in Brooklyn, where I even made it on to the PTA. There were all sorts of families at that school, yet when it came to the crunch, the kids with anything other than a standard mum and dad and a white picket fence were looked upon ever so slightly differently.’
‘In Brooklyn?’
She pauses, fork in mid-air.
‘Actually, no,’
she says with a giggle.
‘But I felt it was like that. Only because it was common knowledge among parents that John had made off with Gracie’s kindergarten teacher. Yes, that’s what made me a prime case for morose stares.’
We both make a pitiful face at the same time, which makes us burst out laughing again when we stop.
‘What is it about us?’
she asks me when we finish our main course.
‘Even after all this time, there’s no one and I mean no one in this whole world that makes me feel like you do, Ben Heaney?’
I smile at how she uses my full name.
‘Ditto,’
I tell her.
‘I feel like that when I’m around you too. Maybe it’s because we fit.’
‘We fit? You always used to tell me that. You still think so?’
‘Yes,’
I say, doing my best to think of how to explain it further.
‘We understand each other in a way that can feel intuitive. Everything feels effortless and right, like we can communicate without having to say the words. You get me, and I get you. I suppose that’s it in the simplest terms. We’re not perfect, but we fit.’
She reaches across and grabs my hand.
‘How about we buy some ice cream in the supermarket, grab a bottle of something nice and take it back to my place?’
she asks me with a twinkle in her eye.
‘I’d love to show you around some more.’
I shift in my seat, my eyes searching for the waiter to grab our bill.
My voice croaks when I try to speak.
‘I think – I think that’s an excellent idea,’
I tell her.
‘If you’re in no hurry to get back to Ballyheaney House tonight.’
I raise an eyebrow.
‘I’m – I’m in no hurry to get back to Ballyheaney House tonight,’ I reply.
‘I was hoping you’d say that,’
she says.
‘After a very delicious dinner, I’m feeling in the mood for dessert.’
I wasn’t expecting this at all. My hands shake. I can barely pay the bill quick enough, especially when I look at her glowing so happy by my side.
The cold barely touches me when we make our way out on to the street, and with every step we take, the distance feels unbearable.
I stop on the footpath. She does too. And then, without saying a word, she comes into my arms and we kiss.
It isn’t gentle, not at first.
Instead, it’s everything we haven’t said for over two decades. All the longing, the ache, the what-ifs, crash into this single, breathless moment.
My hands cup her face, my cold fingers warming against her skin with her mouth on mine like it has been so many times before. And like before, when we are together it feels like there’s no past or future, only now. Only us.
‘My God, I’ve missed you, Lou,’
I tell her, looking into her eyes as the snow falls down.
‘I’ve thought of kissing you again so many times, never knowing if it would happen.’
‘I’ve missed you too, Ben,’
she tells me, her eyes smiling.
‘Can we do it again?’
‘I was hoping you’d say that,’
I reply, before our lips meet again, more slowly this time, though as sensational as ever.
But there’s something I need to tell her. Something I hope she’ll understand. Something from the past that might hurt her enough for this kiss to be our first and last in so long.
‘Let’s go back to the cottage and get warmed up,’
she says to me, her enthusiastic smile making my insides swirl.
‘Now you’ve started that, you’ve left me wanting more and more.’
We walk towards a waiting taxi, hand in hand, and it’s like I’m walking on air.
I only hope she can forgive me for what I’m going to tell her next.