Chapter 49
‘I need that note,’ Ruby croaked, and it took Opal just a moment too long to work out what she was talking about. ‘The note from Heather’s studio, I need it now,’ Ruby repeated. ‘And also the number for a cab.’
‘Where are you going?’ Opal asked as she searched for the scrap of paper, even though she knew the answer.
‘Glasgow.’
‘But it’s the final showcase tomorrow and it’s an awfully long journey!
Can’t you wait a couple of days? I’d love to read your final piece.
’ Opal realised at that moment that she’d always assumed she would give the prize to Ruby.
There was something about Ruby that had always impressed Opal.
She saw in Ruby all of the things that she was too afraid to be.
Even now, with this spontaneous romantic gesture, Opal felt a pang of something like envy over Ruby’s ability to figure out wholeheartedly what she wanted, and then just …
make it happen, regardless of the consequences.
It was a fierceness that Opal had always lacked, and something she had long considered in her mother as a failing, a weakness. In Ruby, it looked like strength.
Still, though, she couldn’t help but remind Ruby of what she was giving up.
‘If you leave now, I can’t award you the prize fund.’ Opal held out the note and Ruby took it immediately.
‘You see the thing is, Opal, I came into this piss poor, so what’s the difference if I leave piss poor?
’ Ruby shrugged. ‘But if I can speak to Heather, maybe I can at least have learnt something from this, something about myself. You said so yourself, Opal, all great art … birth, death and sex, there’s only one common thread that runs through them all, one thing that makes each brighter, or darker, or harder or softer, something that makes them more vivid, more felt, more beautiful, and it’s love. ’
Ruby laughed. ‘Sounds fucking corny, I know, but it’s true. How can I ever become a great artist if I can’t learn to face love head on, in all its forms?’
Opal pulled Ruby into an embrace, which took them both by surprise. She found herself swiping at her own tears as she pulled away.
‘Here, let me …’ Opal could sense Ruby’s impatience as she rummaged through her drawers. ‘It’s at least enough to get you there.’ She pressed twenty pounds into Ruby’s hand. ‘And I’ll call you a taxi.’
Opal watched as the headlights disappeared down the drive and she felt a pride that she could only describe as maternal.
In another life perhaps she would have encouraged her own daughter to follow her heart.
Opal didn’t get back to sleep. For the second day in a row she watched the dawn settle, and with it a slight shift in how she saw the world.
It was around 8 a.m., with the sun now firmly settled in the sky, that Opal heard the honking of a horn. She was sitting at her dressing table and it crossed her mind, along with a flash of disappointment, that Ruby had turned back; maybe she had gone for the sensible option after all.
From her new vantage point, back in the master suite, Opal peeked out the window. It wasn’t Ruby; it was Gareth. He leant against the bonnet of his car, cigarette in one hand and what looked like a white cloth in the other, as though he was signalling surrender.
Opal waved, feeling as though she had never been so pleased to see a friendly face. There was so much to tell. She pulled on her kimono and rushed to the front door.
‘Hello, darling,’ Gareth greeted her, with a face full of smoke and a hug. She was slightly taken aback. This new affection between them was something she was still getting used to.
He pulled back and dangled the cloth in front of her face; it was dripping wet. ‘I fished these out of the fountain … Care to explain?’ His expression was one of bemusement, and only then did she realise what he was holding. A sodden pair of Martin’s briefs.
Opal burst into a fit of giggles, and Gareth couldn’t resist, although he must have no idea what they were laughing about, Opal thought.
‘They’re Martin’s,’ she managed between her gasps for air. She was doubled over now and tears were pooling in her eyes. Before she knew it she was crying and Gareth’s face had turned from mirth to concern.
‘My God, Opal, are you OK?’ He pulled her back into his arms and she swallowed frantically against the comfort of his shoulder.
‘I did it,’ she spluttered. ‘I threw him out.’
Gareth rubbed her back soothingly, his voice cooing, ‘I’m so proud of you, my darling; that bastard deserved nothing less.’ He held her as the sobs racked through her.
When it was over she felt pounds lighter. Gareth pulled away and held her face in his hands as he looked down at her. ‘You’re glowing.’ He smiled and she smiled back. ‘You look twenty-one again.’
They both chuckled, and as she stared into his warm brown eyes, she realised something. ‘You know, I was right about one thing,’ she began.
Gareth swiped a thumb over her eyebrows. The smoothness of the arches over her eyes calmed her. It was something he hadn’t done in years. ‘What’s that then?’
‘I did meet the love of my life at university, just like I planned, it just wasn’t Martin.’
It was Gareth whose eyes twinkled with tears now. ‘Yes, and unlike Martin I’ve always known that you’re not just the most beautiful woman in the world, you’re also a force of nature.’
Opal rested her head on Gareth’s chest and they stood for a while as she listened to his heart beating. Martin had never really liked Gareth, and now she understood why he was jealous of the love that Gareth could give her, that he never could.
Because with Gareth it wasn’t conditional; he didn’t need the house, the sex or the baby.
He loved her for who she was and nothing more.
The only other person in the world who she had felt that kind of love from was Debbie, and once again Opal’s heart ached with all that she was desperate to share with her friend.
Opal tried to shake the thought from her mind.
She looked up at Gareth with a sad smile on her face. ‘Shall we go inside? I need your advice, as usual.’
‘What is it this time?’ he asked with mock exasperation.
‘I have no idea who the winner should be,’ Opal admitted as they walked through the front door and towards the kitchen.
‘What should I do with these?’ Gareth was still holding the wet underwear. Opal giggled, despite herself, as she snatched them from his hands and threw them in the bin.
‘Gareth, I’m serious! The only one of them who’s actually completed all the challenges as I set them out is Johan … and I mean, given his circumstances it just doesn’t feel right to give him the prize.’
Opal blushed just slightly as she spoke. She hoped that Gareth wouldn’t notice; she wasn’t quite ready yet to reveal all the goings-on he had missed.
‘What do you mean?’ Gareth asked as he sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Do you have any coffee?’
‘Gareth, concentrate, please.’ He didn’t seem to be grasping the urgency of it all.
‘But yes, I’ll put a pot on.’ Opal busied herself with the espresso pot as she continued.
‘You know with Johan’s wealth, well not right at this moment, but I’m sure his parents will come around eventually and then it’ll feel like the prize fund was all a bit redundant … ’
‘Wait, what do you mean?’ Gareth interrupted. ‘Johan’s wealth? He’s not got a pot to piss in, Opal.’
Opal realised only then that Johan must have pulled the wool over Gareth’s eyes as well; of course he had. Why else would he have been nominated as an ‘underprivileged artist’?
‘Oh yes, sorry I should probably explain,’ and Opal did.
Gareth was speechless, and when she was done, it was only the gurgle of the coffee pot that pierced the stunned silence. Opal poured two cups and passed one over to Gareth. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d sat and had coffee together, not since their days in the college café.
It occurred to her then that he was here, in her house, very early, and that considering last night had been a Friday, she had not been expecting him until afternoon. Now she thought about it, he hadn’t smelled of booze when she’d embraced him either.
‘I can’t believe it. What a scoundrel!’ Gareth’s outrage snapped Opal out of her musings. ‘And to think of the favours I did that boy, the time and money I invested thinking he hadn’t two pennies to rub together.’
The revelation of Johan’s provenance felt so long ago to Opal that she struggled to sympathise with Gareth’s indignation.
She shrugged. ‘Well, that’s the state of things anyway, but you can see why I’m reluctant to crown him the winner, even if his photographs are …
well.’ Opal blushed again at the thought of them. ‘They’re quite exquisite.’
‘I’m sure they fucking are.’ Gareth took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. ‘You absolutely cannot give him the satisfaction of winning. I’ve half a mind to cancel his next exhibition in Toad to be honest with you.’
‘Oh don’t do that, Gareth. He’s just young and ambitious, and you have to admit he’s talented.
’ Gareth huffed in response. Opal surprised herself with her defence of Johan, but despite everything, he had been invaluable to her.
He had given her back a belief in the power of pleasure.
The unadulterated joy of it, and a yearning to pursue it for herself again.
‘So, what do you think I should do?’ Opal pushed.
Gareth looked her in the eyes then, seemingly trying to bring himself down from that precipice of rage, and really consider his answer.
‘I’ll tell you what I promised Ruby, when I found her in that dump in Vauxhall. I told her that the winner would be whoever commits themselves most to process and creates most authentically.’
Opal let the words hang between them.
‘So who do you think that is then, Opal?’ It was Gareth’s turn to push.
‘Honestly, I think it’s all of them.’
Gareth nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well then, maybe that’s your answer.’ They finished their coffees in silence.