Chapter 11 Kate
KATE
When shall we three meet again?
From where she is sitting in the window seat at the front of her cottage, Kate can see her small bit of garden and the path on the right running down to the gate.
She eases her position. Today her scar is sore, itchy.
Sometimes it will be the wrong choice of clothes rubbing her.
Sometimes she just wakes up this way. A reminder of what was and a nudge into the anxiety that at times lies dormant, but never really goes away.
Over the wall to the left, she can glimpse her neighbor’s garden, identical in size and shape to her own, except there is no small patch of lawn, just slate-colored stones—easy for upkeep.
Her neighbors are a young family from Ely who use their cottage for holidays and occasional weekends.
She has to admit she likes it this way and is grateful they don’t rent their house out very often.
Her neighbors are pleasant, friendly people, but she prefers it when she is bordered by an empty house on one side, with fields on the other.
It makes her own home seem larger somehow, like it can breathe out.
It’s been three days since the meeting at the lifeboat station, and when she hasn’t been occupied with the year-end figures for the furniture company, she has been dwelling on a single thought.
Should she tell the group that she is JoJo Rose?
She had messaged the girls on their WhatsApp group and asked their advice.
Jess had said to tell the truth—always a painfully honest child.
Bella had said no, it was no one’s business.
The private one. And Ellie had said it was up to her, and did Kate know there were penguins in Patagonia?
Their responses aligned with what she knew of her daughters and had made her smile, but she was still left wondering what to do.
Her gaze follows the border of blue borage and white comfrey that runs down the side of her garden.
Beside it is a small square of grass, left to grow long, with a procession of snowdrops, crocuses, and now primroses and bluebells.
She looks beyond the garden to the brick-and-flint wall at the front and the triangle of path she can spy through the gate.
She cannot see much more of the path from where she is sitting, but she knows every inch of it.
She knows the drop, too, beyond it, down onto the creek.
She can imagine the lurch in her knees as if she were making the jump—too big to be called a step, too shallow to be a wall to sit upon.
She thinks of Pia, living down the coast where the shingle bank sweeps in a broad arc, protecting the lowlands from the sea.
Maybe she could talk to Pia? Explain about JoJo Rose.
They are meeting for coffee later. Would she have heard of her, though?
Was she living here back then, or was she still in Denmark?
Kate knows she is being ridiculous. She should just come out and say it.
Is it because of Alice? She glances down at her tablet on the seat beside her.
You can barely make out the two dots in the creek.
But it is as if she can feel the chill of the water, goose-pimpling her skin.
She rarely swims now. She tells herself it is not safe on her own.
But she knows it is because she no longer swims with the person who she most loved swimming with, her sister.
The sister who Kate still feels let her down.
She stares once more at the image of the creek. Sky reflecting water.
A mirror.
But didn’t she let Alice down, too?
Kate opens the door to the art gallery coffee shop. She spots her at a table by the window.
Pia is with Bardy.
Does Bardy look surprised, too? She is glad she thought about what to wear.
Well, she had to, knowing Pia was sure to be dressed in beautiful neutral colors, looking effortlessly stylish—which she is.
Kate is also grateful she decided to walk, not cycle.
No helmet hair. Chocolate brown trousers, tweed jacket with a nipped-in waist and kingfisher cuffs.
Contrasting purple buttons, courtesy of Alice. They both half rise.
To kiss or not to kiss? That is the question.
Pia hugs, but offers no kiss. Bardy does neither.
What is he doing here?
Well, there is certainly no way she is going to talk about JoJo Rose now. She is already feeling at a disadvantage. Smiling like this is all great fun.
As they sort out their orders, Kate mentally shakes herself. This could be fun. She likes both of these people. So, she had a five-minute “what-if” moment with Bardy. No one knows. She hasn’t made a fool of herself. She likes the man. Anyway, he is probably still married to the art teacher.
“Bardy suggested meeting for coffee, and I thought it would be lovely if you could join us,” Pia says. “I hope that was okay?” she adds, tentatively.
“Of course,” Kate and Bardy chorus.
Do they both sound too hearty?
Pia turns to Bardy. “I imagine you know many people in the town. Perhaps you have taught a lot of them?”
“Oh, a fair few,” Bardy agrees.
“Did you already know Leonard?” Kate asks, intrigued.
“The lockdown king. For sure.”
“What did you call him?” Pia queries, looking up from her cappuccino.
Bardy repeats it. “Leonard came into his own in lockdown. I knew him before, I mean, he’s one of the biggest employers around here, and so we had kids going there for work experience.
And he’s always been a supporter of community projects.
But he really was amazing when it all kicked off.
He organized fundraising, distribution of stuff, checked in on people who were on their own, and made PPE in the factory. ”
“I imagine he was well paid for that,” Pia suggests, and Kate reminds herself she is a hard-nosed lawyer.
Bardy is silent for a moment before saying, “Yeah, he probably was, but I do know he made a massive donation to the town’s funds when it was all over.”
“How do you know that?” Pia asks.
“You can’t keep much quiet around here. Look, I know it’s just gossip, but my mate on the council hinted that Leonard didn’t feel he should profit from it all when so many had had a tough time. But he didn’t want it generally known.”
“I’m looking at Leonard in a new light,” Kate remarks. She grins.
“What?” Pia and Bardy demand.
“Pasta bake,” Kate replies.
“I didn’t know if you’d overheard that too,” Bardy laughs.
“Oh, yes.” Pia and Kate both grin.
“More coffee?” Kate asks.
“Yes, please, and they look like they have some nice blueberry flapjacks,” Pia suggests, hopefully.
“Sounds good.” Bardy begins to rise.
“You’re okay, I’ll get this,” Kate says and goes to place their order.
This is good. Remarkably easy. But she wonders why Pia didn’t suggest meeting at Luigi’s. Or was it Bardy’s idea? But it is a nice spot overlooking the park, surrounded by art. Maybe that’s why they chose it.
When she gets back to the table, Pia is telling Bardy about her work in lockdown. It seems she had been working from home in London.
“You weren’t tempted to come here?” Kate asks as Bardy helps her unload the tray.
“I was with someone back then, and they . . . well, they were all about London. I didn’t spend so much time here.” Pia is back to sounding forlorn. “But as it was, I was often alone. And then, well . . . then it ended.”
“I was on my own too,” Bardy blurts. He glances at one of the paintings on the wall.
A bright golden sunflower. “My wife was an art teacher. When lockdown came, she left and went home to her family in Wales. Well, half her family. She’s originally from New Zealand, but her mother was widowed when Hana was young, and she eventually married a Welsh sheep farmer. As you do.” Bardy tries to smile.
This makes Kate say, “My husband left me for a woman half his age. He’s in California now.
” She adds, “Living it large.” Word is, Dougie has recently put on a lot of weight and had a Māori symbol tattooed on his calf.
She knows of these details thanks to Bella, who is doing a stint as a physical therapist with a women’s soccer team in the US.
Bella, while loyal to her father in a vague kind of way, feeds Kate tidbits she thinks she might enjoy.
Bardy doesn’t smile.
Oh, this is not a man who is over his wife.
“I am sorry,” Pia says and touches his hand.
Bardy jumps.
He may not be over his wife, but this man has got it bad.
“Were you teaching during lockdown?” Kate asks to get away from exes.
“I’d just retired. The government wrote to teachers trying to get them to go back to work, but I figured I’d done my bit. But I guess I felt guilty, so I did a lot of volunteering. Collecting prescriptions, doing people’s shopping. It’s how I got to see what Leonard did.”
“You sound like you quite enjoyed it,” Pia observes astutely.
“To start with, I was a total mess. And Lou and I . . .”
Kate wonders what it is that he almost said. She glances at him inquiringly. Something to do with lockdown?
But Bardy just coughs self-consciously, and after a pause, continues, “Anyway, my eldest son Tom was in New Zealand, but then Ned, my youngest son, came back home, and it wasn’t so bad.
He’s a great cook. We did a bit of gaming and watched crap TV.
Built a shed. And a pond. And a mammoth barbecue. Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.”
“Did you write?” Kate asks. “Short stories?”
He glances at her, and Kate thinks he is pleased she remembered.
He shakes his head. “No. You’d think I would have had loads of time. But I just couldn’t seem to get started. I don’t know if that was the stress everyone was under, or Hana . . .” His voice trails off.
Kate wants to say, “Stress will do that to you.” But she doesn’t want to go there.
“What about you, Kate? Were you busy during lockdown?” Pia asks.
A rush of memories threatens to topple her.
It seemed that during that time, she was either cramming in everything: life, treatment, and combating her daughters’ fears, or she had periods of nothing, just sickness and her own fear—times when she let the girls take over.
Then there were the hours filled with thoughts of Alice.
She thinks of that time as cave black—the darkness you experience when there really is no light.
“I was diagnosed with breast cancer . . .”
Pia reaches out her hand, this time to Kate.
It looks like Bardy is going to do the same, but he starts to fiddle with a paper napkin instead.
“It was . . . do you know, I think I’d rather not go there.”
Kate glances at them. Both nod. Their lack of embarrassment makes her go on.
“It was the worst time of my life. But my daughters and friends were unbelievable. They got me through. And the NHS was brilliant.” She looks from one to the other.
“But because of COVID, there were times when it was very lonely. And frightening. There was one particular hospital visit that no one else was allowed to attend. It was about how the treatment was going.” Kate takes a deep breath.
“The first medication made me really sick, and it hadn’t done what they wanted it to.
The staff was amazing, so in some ways I felt selfish—that I was being looked after.
But my daughters were all on their own . . .”
With an absent, totally shit father. That was when she found it in herself to really hate Doug.
She sees them watching her. “Anyway, they adapted the meds, and though I lost my hair, this time it worked. And today I just feel so lucky and I’m all clear and have been for a few years now, and I think maybe . . .”
Pia suggests, “Maybe now is the time?” It is said with a gentle lilt, and Kate feels something settle within her.
“I think this could be a good time for all of us. The writer,” Pia nods at Bardy, “the artist. And the woman who is creative as a stone, but who can quilt.” She looks toward the gallery, then turns back, “I don’t know,” she muses, “maybe I will think of something else.”
Kate thinks Bardy is going to say something when someone raps loudly on the window beside them.
A middle-aged woman with curly hair, wearing a purple and pink knitted jacket, is waving at Pia.
“Ah, hello Brenda,” Pia mouths, giving her a small wave.
“There’s Noy,” Kate spots.
“Yes, Brenda’s my neighbor. She’s very good about having him.” Pia looks around. “I wasn’t sure if they let dogs in here, especially with it being the school holidays and busy.”
The woman outside the window is giving Pia a thumbs-up sign. “All’s well with Noy Boy. We’ve been for a lovely walk,” she shouts.
“Thanks a lot, Brenda,” Pia mouths back.
Brenda lurches forward and picks up the whippet, who looks bored but resigned. Brenda has him around the stomach and is waving his legs in the air. Noy appears to have them locked forward like a dog skating on ice. “Say hello to Mummy,” Brenda booms.
A few people in the café turn to look.
Pia starts to get up. “Brenda, shall I take him now?”
“No, no. Noy Boy and I are having fun. You have your coffee.”
Brenda grabs one of Noy’s paws, trying to wave it, still straight-legged, at Pia, “Wave to Mummy!”
Bardy says in Kate’s ear. “Does that look like a fascist salute to you?”
Brenda has now put Noy back on the ground. “See you at my house later,” she calls, and turning, she starts to bound across the park, Noy now happily running by her side.
Pia sinks into her chair. “Brenda is very good.” She looks pained, “But she is . . .”
Pia can’t seem to finish.
“A Nazi?” Bardy suggests.
Kate nearly spits out her coffee.