Chapter 30
The next day Luca tried to throw himself into his work, but he spent most of the time standing pointlessly in front of the canvas, utterly uninspired and unable to focus.
He tossed down his brush in frustration.
This had felt so futile lately, like he was bashing his head on a brick wall.
He knew he was good, it wasn’t that. He had no insecurities about his art, no real doubts about his ability.
But he also knew that talent wasn’t a guarantee of success or even recognition – either critically or commercially.
Sometimes it seemed completely arbitrary, and it was incredibly frustrating to see all the money and acclaim lavished on artists who weren’t half as good as he was.
Maybe he should pack it in and get a real job.
He’d never cared about materialistic stuff before.
He had been content making art that satisfied his own creative objectives, and was prepared to live with the consequences.
But the trouble with wanting Claire was that it made him want all this other stuff too.
He had never been bothered about being the kind of guy who could show a girl a good time or provide her with creature comforts.
Claire made him want to be that guy. He wanted to be someone she could depend on – someone who could make her life easier, instead of being another drain on her energy and resources.
He wanted to be able to do nice things for her – take her to New York and buy her presents. In short, he wanted to be bloody Mark.
In the days afterwards, Claire felt adrift.
Despite his assurances that they would still be friends, she felt that Luca was distancing himself from her.
By the following Monday she hadn’t heard from him for a week.
She told herself that he was probably just concentrating on his work, but she couldn’t help wondering what else he might be doing.
When Yvonne talked about a party she’d gone to at the weekend, Claire asked casually who’d been there in the hope that she would mention Luca, but she didn’t.
‘But what’s happened to you?’ Yvonne asked sharply, peering into her face. ‘You’ve lost that glow. You look all lackluster and— Oh my God! You’re not doing it any more.’
‘No,’ Claire admitted, with a wan smile. ‘I’m not.’
‘But what about the guy in London?’
‘Well, first we were doing the five-date rule, and then—’
‘I should never have told you about that stupid rule,’ Yvonne interrupted. ‘It’s not for everyone, you know. And it obviously doesn’t agree with you. Anyway, it doesn’t work for long-distance relationships – you don’t see each other often enough. You could be a hundred before you’d get a shag.’
‘Well, now he’s in London and I’m here, and he’s going to New York next week…’
‘Well, hop on the minute he gets back. And in the meantime you’ve always got Luca.’
Claire shook her head. ‘Luca and I aren’t a… thing now.’
‘Oh,’ Yvonne said, apparently unsurprised. ‘I guess having a regular fuck buddy would be too much of a commitment for him.’
Claire wanted to spring to Luca’s defense, but she had a feeling Yvonne might be right.
Luca wasn’t the only one Claire was fretting about.
She was also anxious about what Mark did when she wasn’t with him.
Though they had spoken almost daily on the phone since she’d got back, it had done nothing to put her mind at rest, and when she asked him what he was doing in the evening, she was always on full alert for any mention of Sophie.
She thought she trusted Mark, but she still felt insecure at the thought of him spending time around Sophie, even if it was in a group.
‘So, what are you up to tonight?’ she asked, when he called her on Tuesday night.
‘Oh, nothing much. Just having a quiet night in with Millie. I have a lot of reading to catch up on.’
‘Anything else planned for the week?’
‘Well… it’s Patrick’s birthday on Thursday, so we’re going out for that.’
Had she imagined it or was there a cautious note in his voice?
‘We?’
‘Yeah, everyone – the usual suspects.’
‘Will Sophie be there?’
‘Sophie, Olivia, Andy, Jamie – the whole gang,’ he said casually – perhaps too casually?
‘Well, have fun,’ she said, determined not to sound needy or paranoid. ‘I wish I could be there.’
‘I wish you could too. Hey,’ he said then, ‘why don’t you hop on a plane and come?’
‘Nah, I can’t,’ Claire said, happy he’d asked. He wouldn’t want her there if he had something to hide. ‘Wish Patrick a happy birthday for me.’
‘Will do.’
‘And enjoy New York.’ A thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘Mark… is Sophie going to the wedding?’
The moment’s silence on the line told her all she needed to know before he said, ‘Er… yes, she’ll be there.’
‘Oh. Well… have fun.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, subdued. ‘And when I come back I’ll organise a trip over to Dublin as soon as possible.’
‘Great! Looking forward to it.’
When Thursday evening rolled around, she still couldn’t help feeling anxious at the thought of Mark being out with Sophie. There was no doubt in her mind that Sophie would go all out to win him back. She would just have to trust Mark not to let himself be won.
‘Luca hasn’t been around for ages,’ her mother said to her that evening, when they were watching TV together.
‘I know.’
‘No chance he’ll come over tomorrow, I suppose?’
‘No, I— I think he’s busy.’
‘Aw, that’s a shame. He’ll be missed.’ This was true. He was already a great favourite with Espie’s friends, who had been asking after him last Friday, obviously disappointed he hadn’t turned up.
‘Ah, well,’ her mother continued. ‘I suppose a guy his age has better things to be doing at the weekend than hanging around with a bunch of old fogeys.’
Yeah, Claire thought sadly – like going out on the prowl.
‘And so do you. You should be off out with him. You know you don’t have to be here, don’t you? Not that we don’t love having you…’
‘I know. But I wouldn’t be out with Luca anyway.
’ She sighed. Maybe she was kidding herself that they could be friends.
Thinking back, he had been humiliatingly eager to get rid of her when she had called round to his flat after coming home from London.
Besides, where would she fit into his life now?
If his social life centered on picking up women for casual sex, she would only cramp his style.
‘Like I said, he’s busy. He’s doing a lot of work at the moment. ’
‘Well, I hope he’ll still come to my birthday party next week. You’ll ask him again, won’t you?’
‘I will,’ Claire said, glad she had an excuse to ring him. If he was offhand with her, at least she could cover her embarrassment by saying her mother had insisted she call so she was only following orders.
‘I miss Luca,’ Espie said.
‘Me too.’ Claire sighed. ‘Me too.’
‘Hi, honey, I’m home,’ Claire called, as she let herself into the house the next evening.
She had spent all day at work rehearsing her phone call to Luca and was resolved to make it as soon as she had finished helping her mother get the food ready for tonight’s gathering.
In her more optimistic moments, she thought maybe she would even persuade him to come.
She was greeted with silence. Her mother didn’t respond as she usually did, like a cheery fifties housewife, with some crack about having her martini ready or fetching her pipe and slippers.
She was probably in the loo, Claire told herself, trying to shake the sense of foreboding that settled on her, but as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, she knew something was wrong.
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the house felt different somehow.
A thought came into her head: There’s nobody here.
She raced to the stairs, her heart pounding as if she already knew. When she pushed open the door of her mother’s room, she found her lying on the bed, her head at a slightly awkward angle, her shoes kicked off on the floor beside her.
It took a split second, and then it hit her like a series of punches to the solar plexus that kept coming, robbing her of breath, draining the strength from her muscles so she fell to the floor, every thought in her head reduced to a single word that repeated on a loop. No.
The next hours passed in a blur of phone calls, tears and her brothers’ ashen faces as they turned up at the hospital.
Later, the three of them went back to the house and Claire made tea.
As she switched on the kettle, she noticed the bowl of raw cake batter on the worktop, the spoon abandoned as if mid-stir, and she realised that that was what she had seen when she came home, without registering it.
On some subliminal level, she had noticed it and known that her mother was dead.
‘Do you want one of us to stay the night?’ Ronan asked her.
‘No,’ she whispered, pressing a tissue to her raw eyes. ‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ Neil asked.
‘Yes. You should go home.’
They all agreed there was nothing they could do for now, so they might as well go home and try to get some sleep.
‘We’ll be back first thing in the morning,’ Neil said, as they left.
She had never felt so alone as she did when she had closed the door behind them.
Already the house felt so empty, like the heart of it was missing – the thing that had made it home.
She went into the living room and flopped onto the sofa, letting the tears roll down her face, too numb even to wipe her eyes with a tissue.
She didn’t know how she’d ever have the energy to get up and go to bed.
Maybe she should have got someone to stay, so she would be forced to behave in a more normal fashion.
But suddenly she knew there was only one person she wanted now.
She had been so afraid of calling him lately, but now she grabbed her mobile from her bag and dialled Luca’s number without a second thought. It didn’t even occur to her to worry that it was Friday night and he might be out.