Chapter 30
Serenity Falls Wine Bar and Café is understated and slightly less kitsch than everything else in the town. It’s on the corner of Main Street, identifiable by a subtle chalk sign and a dark crimson canopy.
I can do this, I tell myself. It’s just a drink.
With someone who looks a lot like my wife.
My missing, presumed dead, wife. Nothing weird about that at all.
In fact, this is probably good for me. Maybe, after tonight I’ll have exorcised that ghost. I almost convince myself.
So, before I can call bullshit or change my mind, I push open the door and step inside.
The lighting is low, the tables are small and most have candles.
I swallow. This immediately feels a little more date-like than I expected.
There are several couples drinking wine or coffee and snacking on olives.
Piano music plays softly. A slowed-down version of an old fifties tune: ‘Life Could be a Dream’.
I walk over and pull out a chair. It squeals on the floor. A few people glance over. I make vague apologetic gestures and sit down, already sweating. Fuck. I am not ready for this. Not at all.
Silently, like a ninja, a waiter glides up to my side. ‘Can I get you a drink, sir?’
I pick up the drink menu, start to flick through and then realize I should probably wait for Lori before ordering anything alcoholic.
‘Err, I’m waiting for someone, so just a sparkling water for now.’
‘Of course, sir.’
He glides away again like he’s on roller skates.
I put the drink menu down. I pick up my phone and debate with myself whether to check in on Sadie.
With everything that’s going on, I’m a little worried about her going out tonight.
But she’s with her friends, I tell myself.
She needs some normality, some fun. She doesn’t need me on her case, embarrassing her.
The waiter returns with my water and I gulp at it, wishing it was neat gin.
I check the time: 8.07 p.m. Maybe Lori isn’t coming.
Maybe something has come up or she’s had second thoughts.
I bring up my messages, but nothing. I put the phone down again.
I wonder if it’s obvious I’m waiting for a date and how long you’re supposed to wait until you accept that you’ve been stood up.
And then the door to the café opens.
Fuck.
I try to breathe. It’s hard. Memories are rushing at me fast, snatching my breath away. Lori is dressed in a simple black vest top and loose jeans. Her hair is down, falling in a slight wave to her shoulders. She looks beautiful. She looks like Nat.
I raise a hand and half stand, unsure how to greet her. She smiles and walks over. I move to pull out a chair and manage to knock the table with my hip, almost sending the candle tipping over. I catch it, but hot wax drips on to my hand.
‘Oww, shit!’
‘Oh God!’ Lori’s face creases in concern. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, fine.’ I shake my hand, face flushing. ‘Sorry. It’s nothing. Just clumsy.’
She smiles. ‘Me too. I’m usually the one walking into a chair or spilling a drink.’
‘Right. Good job we didn’t arrange to meet anywhere where there’s red wine.’
She laughs. ‘Or fragile glasses.’
We both smile at each other. Ice broken. I feel an odd warmth in my chest.
Lori holds out a hand. ‘Good to see you again, anyway.’
‘Yes.’ I shake her hand. It’s delicate and smooth. ‘Thanks for coming.’
She pulls out her seat and sits down. I do likewise.
‘Thanks for asking. Gave me an excuse to put off marking essays. Not that I’m just using you for procrastination.’
Ninja waiter re-emerges. ‘Good evening.’ His smile widens at the sight of Lori. ‘Ah, Miss Hegarty. So nice to see you again.’
‘You too, Carl.’
‘Can I get you both some wine?’
Lori glances at me. ‘I can recommend the Cloudy Bay.’
I swallow. Nat’s favourite. Of course, it’s a popular wine. But it still feels like a ghost has entered the room.
Lori frowns. ‘Or if you’d prefer something else?’
‘No, no. That sounds good,’ I say quickly.
‘Two glasses of Cloudy Bay, please.’
‘My pleasure.’ Carl glides away again.
Lori smiles a little awkwardly. ‘Does it look bad to be on first-name terms with the wine waiter?’
‘Absolutely not. In fact, I’m impressed.’
She laughs again, and a tiny piece of my heart breaks off and crumbles.
‘So,’ Lori says now. ‘What did you really think of the school? You can be honest.’
‘Actually, I really do think it’s fantastic. I’m not sure if you’ve had much experience of English schools.’
‘Can’t say I have.’
‘Well, it’s something of a step up.’
‘It’s good to hear you say that. Lockhart seems to think you’ll be a great addition. An English English teacher. It’s really puffed him right up.’
I chuckle. ‘Well, I’m hardly Hugh Grant.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I can see a likeness … in the right light.’
‘You mean darkness.’
We laugh again. It feels easy, less formal than when we met in the classroom.
Our wine arrives. Lori thanks Carl and we both take a sip. It’s crisp and delicious and it makes me think, again, of Nat.
‘You okay?’ Lori asks.
‘Yes, I just realized I haven’t drunk white wine in a while.’
‘Oh, any reason?’
I hesitate and then decide to be upfront. ‘My wife was the wine buff. But then, just over ten years ago, she walked out, disappeared without a trace.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
I nod. ‘Thanks.’
‘Do you mind me asking what happened?’
‘She had mental health issues … I begged her to get help, but she wouldn’t. I know, rationally, that she’s probably dead. But it’s still difficult—’
‘You can’t grieve or get over it. If you give up hope, it feels like you’re betraying her.’
I look up. Few people get it. But then, I suppose she is a therapist.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘Not exactly keeping it light.’
‘No, that’s fine. I prefer honesty. And if we’re being honest, I should probably address the elephant in the room.’
‘Oh?’
‘Poor Frankie drowning in your pool.’
‘Ah. Yes. I suppose everyone knows about that.’
She nods. ‘Small towns. They’ll know you’ve broken wind before you smell it yourself.’
I burst out laughing. ‘That’s apt.’
She smiles, softer. ‘But seriously, things like that, well, they stick with us, even when we don’t realize.’
I raise an eyebrow.
‘I think of trauma like a tick,’ she continues. ‘You feel the bite, maybe it itches for a while, but then you forget about it. You don’t realize it’s still there, burrowed under the skin, feeding on you. Sometimes you need someone to pull that thing right out, even if it hurts.’
I nod. ‘This therapist talk?’
She holds her hands up. ‘Guilty as charged. Plus, I used to have a dog, and I’ve pulled a lot of ticks.’
‘I guess you’re right, I mean, we’ve got this beautiful pool, but neither Sadie nor I have so much as dipped a toe in.’
‘Perfectly normal. It will take some time. But you’ll get there.’ Another sip of wine. ‘How did your daughter take it?’
I consider. ‘She’s pretty resilient, but, you know, she’s a teen, so she doesn’t tell me everything.’
‘Again, that’s normal.’
‘I worry, but … sometimes I think she deals with stuff better than me.’
‘Well, the young bounce back quicker.’
‘Yeah. She’s out at the fair tonight with friends.’
‘That’s good. D’you mind me asking who?’
‘Erm, Ellis, Principal Lockhart’s daughter, and a couple of her friends.’ I search my mind. Names, what are their names?
‘Oh, Dax and Ramona?’
‘Yes, that’s it.’ I wave at my head. ‘Brain like a sieve.’
‘Curse of middle age.’ She lifts her glass. ‘They’re good kids. Of course, they all have their issues.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, Ramona’s father is the mayor – Major Jenkins – so naturally you get a little rebellion with that. Same with Ellis. Dax is bright but he can be easily distracted.’
‘But nothing I should panic about? No drug-dealing or criminal activity?’
‘Oh no,’ she laughs. ‘None of that. You say they’ve gone to the fair?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, I’m sure they’ll have fun. And I’m sure Sadie will settle down here just fine. There’s a lot to enjoy, and we do try to look after our young people. They’re the future, after all.’
‘How long have you lived here?’
‘All my life.’
‘Really?’ I don’t know why that surprises me. Maybe she seems too smart, too worldly, for Serenity Falls.
She chuckles. ‘What? You think all small-town womenfolk go around baking and dress-making?’
‘No. It’s just—’ I struggle. ‘Okay, you got me.’
‘We moved here when I was a baby. My dad was a family physician here for forty years till he had a stroke. He got over it, but he retired a few years later. The second one took him out ten years ago.’
‘I’m sorry. What about your mum?’
‘Oh, she’s doing okay. She downsized to one of Serenity’s retirement properties, and she has friends, and me.’
‘Just you?’
‘Yep, only child.’
‘And you followed in your dad’s footsteps in a way?’
‘I thought about medicine, but I’ve always been more interested in the mind than the body.’
Her eyes linger on me for a moment, or maybe it’s my imagination.
‘A lot of the problems that we face day to day are problems located up here.’ She taps her head. ‘If we can make this a happy place, then we can live happier lives.’
‘You make it sound simple.’
‘Well, nothing is simple. Here’s the thing. You look around at the world. It’s not in a good place.’
‘To put it mildly.’
‘Division, wars, disease. And people are disconnected from reality because they spend all their time connected to phones or screens. Every day a flood of hatred, negativity, propaganda, flooding their brains.’
‘So, you approve of the no-phones rule here?’
‘I do. Sometimes, we need to reprogramme our brains. Especially young people. I know a lot of them don’t like the restriction on phones, but I think, in the future, it’s going to save their lives.’
She raises her glass and takes a long sip. I smile, although for some reason I feel a weird ripple of unease. Maybe the use of the word ‘reprogramme’. Sounds a little too much like conversion therapy.
‘Interesting,’ I say. ‘Although I’m pretty sure my brain is beyond help these days.’
She laughs. ‘Oh, I think there’s still hope.’
‘And did you ever consider leaving Serenity Falls and working somewhere else?’
She looks down. ‘Well, yes, of course. But there’s something about this place … I don’t know. I applied for other jobs, but when it came to it, I realized I couldn’t leave.’ A shrug. ‘Maybe that makes me unadventurous.’
‘No, not at all. What’s the saying – wherever you go, you can never escape yourself.’
‘Exactly. I’m doing good work here. Making a difference. And I like it, despite or maybe because of its quirks.’
I nod again. ‘I think I’m still adjusting to them.’
She laughs. ‘It may take a while. I’ve had forty years to get used to it. This is my normal.’
‘You know, I’m starting to think there’s no such thing.’
‘As a therapist, I’d have to agree.’
She grins and tips back her glass. I realize mine is empty. Our eyes meet.
‘Another?’ I ask.
‘Why not and, you know, it’s probably cheaper to get a bottle.’
‘Well, I’ll drink to that.’