They hugged and Lexie excused herself, leaving the other women to say goodbye. She waved her parents off too, then noticed Sam had arrived back and was sweeping the floor.
‘Amélie is waiting outside for Kathleen and she’ll walk home with her. I said we’d be along shortly,’ he said.
‘Right,’ Lexie said tiredly.
‘Will I mop the floor now or would you rather leave it until tomorrow?’
‘No, you go on, thanks. I’ll do it. I don’t want to come in and face it first thing.’
‘I’ll do it for you,’ Sam said. ‘I don’t mind.’
‘Actually, Sam, I’d be better left to do it. I need a bit of breathing space.’
‘I’ll see you at home, then. I’ll accompany Kathleen and Amélie. Are you sure you don’t want me to wait and walk with you?’
‘No. Thanks, but no.’
She watched through the window as Sam held his arms out for Kathleen and Amélie to link and they departed, chatting animatedly.
As soon as she knew she was alone, Lexie threw the mop at the back wall. Sitting on the floor, she savoured the silence.
Chapter 32
Kathleen was doing her level best to appear fine but as they approached Cashel Square all she could do was look at the sky. She checked her watch twice during the short walk home. It was almost ten o’clock. The light was fading and she knew that, unless some sort of miracle happened, the chance of a rainbow appearing right now was highly unlikely.
She forced her eyes downwards and concentrated on the cracks in the ground as they walked. She convinced herself that if she avoided the big ones, the rainbow might appear.
‘Is everything all right?’ Sam asked her, as they reached the house.
‘Oh, yes, dear, I’m just tired,’ she lied. ‘It’s been a long and lovely day.’
‘I was thinking you might come up to the living room and have a nightcap with us,’ Sam said. ‘But if you feel you’ve had enough …’
‘I appreciate the offer, dear, but I’d rather go to my bed if it’s all the same to you.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I’ll be up for a while so if you change your mind, knock on the door and I’ll be delighted with the company.’
‘Will do.’ Kathleen kissed his cheek. ‘Nighty-night, Amélie, love,’ she said. As they waved to her, she did her best not to run like a scalded cat down the steps to the basement door. As soon as she got inside it was as if a dam had burst. Her shoulders shook and she wanted to climb into the back of the closet and hide behind the clothes the way she used to as a small child.
Instead, she half staggered, half ran to the bedroom, managing to shed her coat and shoes in time to collapse on the bed. Burying her face in the pillows, she let loose. A well of tears she’d thought had long since dried up poured forth.
‘Jackson, how could you disappoint me like that?’ she shouted into the mattress. Then, afraid Sam might hear her and think she was in trouble, Kathleen forced herself to regain control. Flinging herself wildly off the bed, she strode into the dining area and found the laptop.
Forcing it open she clicked on the usual icon and hit play. As the speech she knew so well began, she walked back to the confines of the bedroom clutching the machine. Through gritted teeth, she growled, ‘Why did you build my hopes and shatter me like this, Jackson? You left me once and that was bad enough. Now I feel as if the only taste you’ve left in my world is one of bitter disappointment. You’ve destroyed me.’
For a split second she considered throwing the laptop at the wall. The sound of it smashing and crashing to the floor might have been satisfying – for a moment. But Kathleen knew that was all it would be – momentary. She’d never been violent or destructive and she knew that seeing her laptop shattered would traumatise her further.
She padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Perhaps if she lathered her body in a fresh-smelling shower gel, she’d feel less awful. Knowing she wasn’t going to sleep much, she took her time patting her skin dry and applying body lotion. By the time she had cleansed, toned and moisturised her face and brushed her teeth, she needed to lie down again.
Her anger was gone. A slight hangover had started to pulsate at her temples. The sparkling wine that had been such a wonderful idea earlier was now causing heartburn and making her feel ill. All that remained as she slid between the cool sheets was a dreadful sense of emptiness. Determined not to cry again, she flattened her bedspread and rearranged her pillows. She flicked on the bedside radio, turned off her light and lay back, hoping she might be able to relax.
Just as she forced her eyes to close, a soothing late-night DJ’s voice came over the airwaves: ‘I haven’t played this song for many years, but for some reason it came to mind the second I woke this morning. It’s an old favourite of mine and I sincerely hope you will enjoy it too.’
Kathleen felt as if she was floating above the bed as the dulcet tones of Judy Garland filled the room. The instant the lyrics of ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’ began, Kathleen knew it was a sign. ‘Oh, Jackson,’ she cried. ‘You kept your promise, darling.’ This time as the tears coursed down her cheeks, Kathleen was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
As the song finished, she blew a kiss skywards. ‘Good night, sweetheart, and thank you for my birthday rainbow.’
It was after ten when Kathleen woke the following morning. Glancing at the radio, she tucked her hands behind her head and smiled.
‘Jackson, I’m so glad I didn’t break the laptop last night. I would’ve felt like such an old fool.’ She sighed happily and lost herself in thoughts of her late husband.
As she climbed out of bed, she couldn’t wait to tell Lexie all about her first rainbow from Jackson.
There was no sound above as she put on the kettle for a cup of tea. Figuring Sam and Lexie had gone to work, she planned to have breakfast, then stroll to the gallery.
Chapter 33
Lexie was sitting cross-legged on the purple spongy yoga mat she’d fished out from under the stairs. She’d bought it ages ago, with a pair of stretchy yoga pants, a matching singlet and a zip-up hoody. She’d signed up to a course at the local gym, fully intending to become a regular. The thought of a bronzed, toned midriff had enthused her.
She’d done really well for the first three weeks. But as soon as she’d allowed herself to miss one, that had been it. The spell was broken and she knew the gear would just add to the pile marked ‘waste of wad’ on the ledger in her mind.
Sam had slipped out to work this morning after hesitating several times, then tiptoeing over to her side of the bed. ‘Lex?’ he whispered. She didn’t answer. She could hear him and knew he was anxious, but she didn’t put him out of his misery.
As soon as he closed the bedroom door gently, her eyes had snapped open. She stared at the wall, wondering why she was being so awful. She knew she ought to call him and wish him a good day. But she didn’t do it. The front door banged and she sat up in bed, pondering.
Yoga. That would solve it. She’d try to soothe herself with yoga. She’d never felt like this before. It was weird. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She was angry but not in a shouty-screamy way. It was more a deep, simmering fury that was dangerously inking its way through each and every fibre of her body leaving a trail of poisonous negativity in its wake.
The deep breathing exercises were a waste of time so she walked purposefully into the bathroom and leaned on the heels of her hands at the edge of the basin. She examined her face in the mirror. She arched her eyebrows as high as they’d go, then scrunched them down, making as many wrinkles as she could. Relaxing her face, she brushed her teeth. The deep line between her eyes appeared again. Blowing out loudly, she wondered if she should think about getting Botox. Lexie wasn’t sure if she liked the idea. Maia was addicted to it, but she’d resisted so far.
‘If you had a four-year-old keeping you awake and making you feel fifty years old, you’d be getting regular shots too,’ Maia told her. ‘Keep the wrinkles at
bay, Lex. Once they set in you’re headed for Prune City.’
As she pulled on a layered Indian cotton blue-grey maxi dress and twisted her hair into a pretty knot at the back of her head, Lexie suspected that no amount of Botox would help with the tugging sense of foreboding that had wormed its way into her heart.
Her mobile phone rang, flashing up Kate’s name.
‘Hiya!’ Lexie said, injecting as much cheer into her tone as she could.
‘Lexie?’ Kate sounded alarmed. ‘Where are you? I’ve just arrived at the gallery and it’s still locked up.’
‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I’ll be along soon. Can you open up and get started? A few things have come up and I didn’t have a chance to call you.’
‘Oh, sure,’ Kate said, sounding relieved. ‘Take your time. I was just having a mild heart attack there. I had a terrible feeling you’d told me to open up and I’d forgotten.’
‘No, all my fault. No hassle. I’m sure the world will keep turning if the gallery isn’t open on time,’ Lexie said.
‘Eh … Is … is everything okay?’
‘Certainly is. I’m on my way. I’m about half an hour away,’ she lied, ‘so I’ll see you soon. I’d better get going.’
Lexie grabbed a pair of sandals from her wardrobe and a long blue-grey cardigan to match the dress, then walked woodenly down the stairs. Raising her eyes to Heaven, she picked up Sam’s breakfast things and put them into the dishwasher.
A wave of anger washed over her. Stabbing at her phone, she texted him.
Would it be 2 much trouble 2 put your stuff in the dishwasher? Are you quadriplegic all of a sudden???
She hit send and made coffee. Her phone beeped.
What’s eating you? If it’s that much hassle leave them and I’ll do it when I get home.
Lexie balled her fists. As if he’d clear away the stuff that night! Why hadn’t he just done it earlier? Who did he think she was – a servant?
She made some coffee. Then, rooting in the cupboard, she found a packet of foil-wrapped chocolate-covered marshmallow biscuits. Ripping it open, she ate one after another. She barely chewed. There was an odd sense of satisfaction in boycotting multigrain toast in favour of unhealthy fattening fodder.
Before long there was a small pile of wrappers in front of her. Draining her coffee, she scrunched them up, flung them into the bin and grabbed her bag and phone. She’d go for a quick walk around the block before heading to the gallery. Her phone beeped. It was Sam again.
You ok????
Feeling a bit mean, she answered, albeit abruptly.
All fine. I’m busy.
Sam threw his phone on to his desk. What was with Lexie? He’d done his best to support her last night. He’d walked Kathleen and Amélie home, then grabbed a half-bottle of bubbly and waited for her in the living room. He’d hoped a glass of champagne and some soothing music might ease their addled minds.
He’d had another session with John yesterday. He’d told Sam to try to woo Lexie. That often gave a couple a fresh start. He was nowhere near the mood for being nice to her after her snappy behaviour at the exhibition, but he’d tried all the same.
He had been ready for a bit of romance and loving when she’d crashed through the front door, poked her head into the living room, announced she had a ‘pain in her face with today’ and strode upstairs.
He was so peeved that he’d popped the cork on the champagne and guzzled it anyway. The fizz had clawed at his throat and made him cough roughly. Such a fine drink wasn’t designed to be glugged to drown sorrows. It was meant for sipping with smiles.
When he’d made his way upstairs he’d found her cocooned in the duvet with a pillow over her head. She didn’t speak, so he didn’t bother attempting to cajole her.
He’d probably stay late at the office tonight, Sam thought, or call Josh to see if he could meet for a beer. Whatever happened, he wasn’t going home to that house full of female hormones.
It was sunny and bright outside and the scent of blossoms should have cheered her but Lexie couldn’t shake her irritation.
‘Good morning! I wasn’t expecting to see you at this time.’
‘Hi, Kathleen,’ Lexie said, forcing a smile.
‘Sorry to be the one to point it out to you,’ Kathleen said, ‘but you’ve got chocolate on the front of your dress.’
‘Oh, bloody hell …’
‘Sorry, dear, but I hate nothing more than discovering these things. I never understand why folk don’t alert me. I suspect you’d rather not go around for the morning looking like you’ve been on a date with Willy Wonka.’
Lexie dropped to the bottom step and sighed.
‘Hey.’ Kathleen rushed to her side. ‘I’m so sorry if I upset you.’
‘Ah, it’s not you,’ Lexie said. ‘I’m having the worst time, Kathleen. I … I don’t know who I am any more.’
‘What’s brought this on?’ Kathleen asked.
‘I just feel like I’m drowning. I keep having dawning realisations that I’m this awful sort of person. That I’m selfish and crass and totally obsessed with my job and nothing else.’
‘Whoa there, cowgirl!’ Kathleen said, holding up her hand. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Nobody – everybody … I don’t know. I’m snapping at people left, right and centre and I want to run away. I’m not fit company for anyone right now. Maybe if I went off for a few days it would make things better.’
‘Maybe,’ Kathleen said carefully. ‘But it might just make you feel even more alone and upset. Why don’t you come down to the basement and we can have a cup of tea?’
‘Or a pint of gin?’ Lexie suggested, with a wry smile.
‘I don’t think I’ve got any, but I have wine. Would that do? You could drink it by the neck and smash the bottle against the wall out back.’
Lexie grinned. Standing up, she followed her friend. ‘I feel a bit sick too. I just ate an entire box of chocolate marshmallows.’
‘That’s very good for you every now and again,’ Kathleen said. ‘I’ll make you some peppermint tea – it’ll cut through the chocolate.’
Lexie pulled out a kitchen chair and watched Kathleen fill the kettle. ‘Can I tell you about my rainbow?’ Kathleen asked.
‘Oh, dear Lord! Your birthday rainbow. Kathleen, I’m so sorry! How could I have forgotten? You must think I’m the worst friend. Tell me! What happened? Did it appear?’
‘Yes!’ she said, with a glint in her eye. ‘But not in the form I’d been expecting.’
Lexie sat up straight and listened as Kathleen filled her in. As the older woman described the lows and wonderful final high of her day, guilt washed over her again. How could she behave in such a juvenile and self-centred way? Here was poor Kathleen, thousands of miles away from her home and in the throes of grief, yet she could still find a reason to smile.
‘You amaze me, Kathleen,’ she said. ‘You’re going through this massive trauma and you’re so upbeat and positive. I’m trying to cope with a totally measly issue in comparison and I’m so awful at it. I don’t know how to be me any more,’ she said miserably. ‘I can’t help feeling I’m always in the wrong somehow.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I’ve upset everyone over the last few days. I raised my parents’ hopes and dashed them again. Amélie thinks my one true love is my gallery. Sam is looking at me as if I’m a murderer …’
She pushed the chair back and began to pace the room. Kathleen stayed where she was and made no comment.
‘I’m starting to think this is Mother Nature’s way of telling me I should have a child after all. What else am I doing on this earth? Maybe if I had a baby the indescribable sense of failure that’s infecting my psyche would go away. Maybe then I’d be more socially acceptable.’
Kathleen remained silent. Lexie continued to pace.
‘I always thought that other women became obsessed with the desire to have a child because they felt they couldn’t go on a second lon
ger without having a little bundle to hold.’
Kathleen nodded.
‘But now I’m wondering if body clocks tick in different ways for us all. Maybe I’m feeling it this way … Maybe it’s manifesting itself by producing a hopeless sense of uselessness. If I were someone’s mother, would that give me more of a purpose in life?’
‘I don’t know what to say, Lexie. I can’t tell you how to feel or promise you this awful hurt you’re experiencing right now will go away if you become a mother.’
‘But you said you felt it. That for years there was an emptiness inside,’ Lexie said.
‘Yes, darling, I did. But only because I had that longing you mentioned. I’d watch babies in strollers and imagine for a split second that they were mine. I used to wake at night crying for the baby that I never got to hold. It was a want that was physical as well as emotional.’
Lexie exhaled loudly. ‘I’m sorry for making you think about all that,’ she said. ‘I’m doing it again, you see. Everybody I come in contact with ends up sad. I’m like a disgusting slug leaving a slime trail behind me.’
‘Hardly.’ Kathleen smiled. ‘You haven’t made me sad again either. That sadness never goes away, Lexie. I reckon I’ll mourn the children I never had until the day I die.’
‘That’s heavy,’ Lexie said.
‘Isn’t it?’ Kathleen wrinkled her nose. ‘But it’s the truth.’
‘How come you aren’t in the depths of depression? How do you manage to keep going? You’re so calm and sweet-natured and cheerful. How do you do that?’
‘Thank you, dear. But the simple answer is that I know I’m blessed. I may not have children of my own, but I’ve known true love with my Jackson. I have many wonderful people in my life. I’ve had plenty of adventures and I know there are still some to come. Life is full of hope and expectation, Lexie. Sometimes we just need to delve a little below the surface to find it.’
‘Right now I think I need a hammer and shovel to help me,’ Lexie admitted.
The Summer Guest Page 24
