Chapter Eighteen #2
‘But his other cousins weren’t interested. He was the only one.’ I don’t know why I feel I should defend him, but I do. ‘They’d all moved abroad.’
Maire shrugs and we walk on, searching for shells. When we reach the end of the beach we turn and walk back the other way, letting the wind fill the silences between us.
‘I thought you coming here might’ve changed all that,’ Maire suddenly says sadly.
‘Me? How could I change things?’ We reach the end of the beach and I look up at the stone steps.
‘Sometimes it takes someone from outside to … see things from a new perspective. No one ever mentions the oyster festival, until the other night.’
‘I didn’t realise—’
‘Oh, it wasn’t your fault, dear. It’s this lot.
It’s time they all learnt to forgive and forget, to move on and leave the past behind.
For just a minute I saw a glimmer of hope,’ she smiles.
‘What this town needs is someone to put it back on the map.’ She rummages in her bag and pulls out a large shell.
‘Here, a souvenir,’ she says. I’m touched.
‘Thank you.’ I take the curled cream shell and look at it. ‘I’m sorry it couldn’t be me,’ I say apologetically.
‘Don’t worry, dear. Hope you find what you’re looking for.’ We walk up the steps together with Grace following behind.
‘I hope so too,’ I say into the wind.
I head for the petrol station, still looking at the shell in my hand.
‘It’s promised rain,’ Rosie says scanning my bottle of white wine and large bag of Doritos into the till.
‘Yes,’ I look out of the window. ‘I think you’re right, Rosie.’
‘Coming to the meeting this week, Fi?’ She holds out her chubby hand for the money.
‘No, ’fraid not, Rosie. In fact, I’m not going to be coming to any more meetings. I’m leaving. Just off to look up flights on the internet.’ I take my change.
‘Ah no, what a shame. We were just getting used to you,’ she says, shutting the till, and I half laugh, not sure if she’s joking or not.
‘D’you hear that, Margaret?’ I turn to see Margaret, with her newly painted blue nails with silver lightning strikes, coming into the shop.
‘What?’
‘Fi’s leaving us.’
‘Ah, no way. I’ll be the only young one in town again!’ Margaret grabs a bottle of white wine and some Pringles.
‘You two should have a party,’ Rosie laughs, pointing to our wine.
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Margaret turns to me hopefully.
‘Oh, I can’t. I have to get back to the farm.’
‘Hey, Seamus, d’you hear that, Fi’s leaving us.’ Rosie is passing on the news to the pub’s regulars. ‘Isn’t it a shame, Padraig?’
‘Aye. Going anywhere nice?’
I shrug. ‘Maybe Malta, to see my mother.’ I cringe at the thought. But staying here isn’t an option any more, especially after I nearly made a fool of myself last night. I go to leave the shop and Margaret falls into step beside me.
‘How’s Sean?’
‘Good,’ I say, and smile.
‘His horoscope says he’s moving into a lucky phase.’
I smile again as I make my way back to the café.
‘Thought I might pop in and see him. See if he fancies a drink. I’ve got the evening off.’ Margaret holds up her bottle.
‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’ I think I should tell her straight.
‘But I thought you said that you and he weren’t …’ She looks crestfallen.
‘We’re not!’ I interrupt her, almost too keenly. ‘He’s with his partner.’
‘His partner?’ She stops me in my tracks.
‘Nancy. She’s French. She’s his oyster broker – you know, sells his oysters on for him. They go way back.’
‘Yes, yes, I know what an oyster broker is. It’s her, in the black BMW?’ She flops down onto a bench looking out to sea. She looks up at me and I confirm it apologetically.
‘I’ve seen her around. Heard rumours, y’know?’
‘I’m beginning to understand.’ I smile, thinking how much I’ve realised this place runs on rumour. I turn to look at the café. The door is shut and there’s a sign but I’m too far away to read it.
‘Ah, no. The café’s shut.’ I flap my hands against my thighs.
‘Gone to Dublin to pick up a new urn.’
I turn back to see Margaret with the cap off her bottle of wine, swigging from it.
‘Here,’ she offers it up to me.
‘No, really, I can’t. I had to do something in the café and then I have to get back.’ I point with my thumb over my shoulder.
‘Well, the café’s shut. This is the only place you’ll get a drink now.’ Margaret takes another swig.
Oh, what harm could it do? The least I could do is sit with her for a while; it was me that delivered the bad news in the first place after all.
‘You and Sean. Were you …?’
‘I wish,’ Margaret says, taking big swigs. ‘But it will happen,’ she says confidently.
‘Really? How do you know?’ I wish I could be that confident about my life falling into place.
‘It’s in my stars,’ she says with a dreamy look on her face.
‘And how long have you thought you two were … fated to be together?’ I ask, taking the bottle and sitting down beside her. Grace lies down at my feet. I take a swig from the bottle. It’s warm but somehow hits the spot after the day I’ve had.
‘For ever, I think,’ Margaret replies flatly. ‘I remember the day he turned up here, out of the blue, after he’d been … y’know.’
‘Hello again, ladies.’ Seamus and Padraig stop beside us. The squeaking on the bike Seamus is pushing stops. He touches the brim of his hat. I try to hide the bottle behind my leg but don’t think I manage it.
‘Making a night of it, are we?’ Padraig laughs.
Just then a black BMW drives past with a blast of its horn.
‘It’s him, isn’t it, going out with her? Staying in town, no doubt at some swanky hotel.’ Margaret grabs the bottle and swigs deeply.
‘Her place.’ I’ve given her all the facts now.
Seamus touches his hat again. ‘Should be a nice night.’ He nods at the reddening sky. ‘Enjoy your evening.’ The bike starts up its squeak again. Padraig walks beside him, talking in a low voice.
‘Where will you go?’ Margaret asks while staring straight out to sea.
‘Probably to my mum’s in Malta.’
‘You don’t sound keen.’
‘I’m not. She left me to my own devices just before I turned sixteen, and hasn’t really bothered with me since. I can’t see her welcoming me with open arms. And to be honest, I don’t think I can take all the “I told you so” looks.’
‘I told you so? What about?’
I sigh, and instead of drinking from the bottle rest it down on the bench and open the Doritos instead. I take one out and bite it so the pieces shatter everywhere. I sigh again.
‘She told me my marriage wouldn’t last. I’d never make him happy.’ It’s my turn to look out to sea.
‘And did it?’ Margaret sticks her hand into the big bag and grabs a handful, tossing them into her mouth.
‘No. The ink wasn’t even dry on the register when he left me.’
Margaret’s crunching faster and faster, her eyes fixed on me. I’ll probably be the talk of the town by this evening, but what does it matter now – I’ll be gone tomorrow.
‘We said “I do”, then he realised he couldn’t.’
‘Not one of the bridesmaids?’ Margaret’s still throwing Doritos at her mouth at superfast speed.
‘The best man,’ I say flatly.
Margaret nearly chokes.
‘I thought it was the belly-dancing outfit he’d found in my going away bag at first.’
‘Belly-dancing outfit!’ Margaret bursts out, spraying Doritos. And, taking me quite by surprise, I find I laugh too.
‘Don’t!’ I say, waving my hand around, enjoying the sense of freedom the laughter’s giving me.
‘Betty and Kimberly’s idea of a honeymoon present!
’ I say through gasps for air. The thought of Brian’s face if I’d actually put it on is making me laugh even more.
‘Something to spice up our sex life,’ they said.
‘Well, after years of doing it in the dark on a Saturday night I thought it might actually help. But now I think about it …’ Laughter washes over me again and I don’t know if I should feel bad for laughing or just realise how ridiculous it all was.
‘So the sex was shite then?’ Margaret throws more crisps at her mouth, barely chewing them. I’ve hardly had anything to drink but my tongue seems to have taken on a life of its own.
‘His idea of foreplay was separate showers. He found the outfit just before the wedding, when we were packing. I saw the colour drain from his face. I wasn’t really going to wear it.
It was just a bit of fun. But it wasn’t that.
Now I think about it, I can remember exactly when the lights went out in his eyes. ’
‘What?’
‘Well, when I first met Brian I was doing the sandwich round from Betty’s Buns, as it was then.
I had to deliver the sandwiches to the radio station next door.
Brian’s studio was my last stop. When I got there his assistant had let him down, the girl who did the phones.
It was a Saturday afternoon sports phone-in.
Well, I helped out. I could answer phones.
His assistant never came back and I helped out every Saturday after working in Betty’s.
By way of a thank you he took me to the staff Christmas party.
It was fancy dress. I wasn’t keen but he convinced me.
He went as Becks and I went as Posh in a pair of sunglasses and some of Kimberly’s high heels.
D’you know, for the first time in my life I actually felt like I was somebody.
’ I sipped at the wine bottle. ‘After that we just slipped into being a couple. I’d always hated all that dating malarkey, far too shy.
This just became habit. I went out with him to work dos and in time he moved into my flat above Betty’s because it was closer to the radio station, and he, well, he planned our lives.
We saved for the next two years for a deposit for a flat, a new one, the show-home.
And two years later, planned to get married.
And the following year …’ I swallow, ‘we’d start a family,’ I say quietly, suddenly feeling the need to blink quite a lot.
Margaret grabs the bottle and swigs before handing it back.
‘So what went wrong?’
‘By the looks of it he was just hiding from who he really was, using me. It was all for convenience … a bit like the flat,’ I laugh, but it’s hollow.
‘Then when I suggested we throw the life plan out of the window and start trying for children straight away, well, I guess that’s when he realised he couldn’t do it any more. ’
‘So where did the best man come from?’
‘We went on holiday to Greece a few years ago, a sailing holiday. My idea, a bad one. Anyway, to cut a long story short we met up with some other people our age. There was one particular friend, Adrian. He and Brian got on really well. We stayed in touch for a while but lost contact when everyone started getting married and having kids. But when we finally got engaged, Brian went Facebook mad and got back in touch. Looks like he couldn’t hide from his real feelings any more. ’
‘God, no wonder you went loopy.’ Margaret slugged again.
‘I didn’t go loopy! I just remember seeing all those faces staring at me and I couldn’t bear it.
So I just ran. The camper van had been delivered for us to leave the reception and go on honeymoon in, so I just jumped in it and drove.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I just followed what the satnav told me to do but I went wrong.
Ended up here. And the camper van company thought I’d stolen it. ’
‘Jeez, makes my shit look like a breeze,’ Margaret says, holding the empty Doritos bag. I feel chilly. ‘Are you good for money then?’
I push my hand into my pocket.
‘I’ve got this.’ I show her the diamond engagement ring.
‘For feck’s sake, that’s not a stone, it’s a rock!’ Margaret takes the ring from me and holds it up. But it doesn’t shine. Maybe it’s because I’ve been wearing it so long, or maybe it’s a reflection of life – it’s lost its shine.
‘Time I was off.’ I stand up. ‘Thanks for the laughs.’ Tomorrow’s going to be a new beginning. I feel ready to move on. I mustn’t beat myself up about this any more.
‘I’m sorry you’re going,’ she smiles up at me. ‘We could’ve had fun.’
‘By the way, Margaret, what did you mean earlier, when you said about Sean, when he first came here, after he’d been …?’
‘Released. From prison. Didn’t you know?’ Looks like Margaret thought I should have all the facts too.