idea what it must have been like for her, desperate to have a baby and not receiving the support
she wanted from Paddy. How could I say whether I would have made the same decision in her
position? Although it was hard to imagine being with Paddy, and choosing to give him up.
‘I’m sorry, Paddy,’ I said, and reached out and fleetingly brushed my thumb against
his. He let go of his glass and grasped my hand.
‘I loved her. Amy. Not like …’ He broke off, squeezed my hand. ‘In a different way,
but a good way, you know? We were happy. And when she left, and I realised she wasn’t
coming back …’ He looked at me and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the expression on his
face. ‘Jeez, it hurt like hell. And it made me realise what I’d done to you. What you must have
felt back then – and Caitlyn too. I’m sorry, Eve. I got it all wrong. I made the wrong call. You
deserved better than that. You both did.’
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I pushed back my chair, breaking contact with Paddy. I didn’t want to hear this. What
was the point? I had spent years learning to live with my own regrets. How would it help to
know that he had regrets too?
‘Another drink?’ I didn’t wait for an answer, but headed to the bar and ordered another
whiskey. I dithered over my own drink. I had never come so close to craving alcohol – or
rather, the numbness, the oblivion it could bring. Why had I thought it a good idea to have this
sort of conversation with Paddy tonight? I should have stuck to my decision not to rake over
the past. It was easier to keep an emotional distance from him when I could focus on the bare
facts of what he had done – leaving me and Caitlyn when we were both bowed down with grief,
and counting on him to carry us into the future.
But now I could see the facets and nuances of another Paddy: the man at the table
behind me, with tears in his eyes, aching over a child who could have been his; the man who
prostituted himself on television to help his dying mother; the man whose enthusiasm for
archaeology had revived my own interest and who I wanted to learn more from. He had grown
up, become more introspective, more thoughtful and more sensitive. A new Paddy, with the
looks that I had loved and the character I wished he could have shown before … It was a
dangerous mix. I could feel the emotional distance closing day by day, whether I wanted it to
or not. Alcohol would be a terrible idea tonight. I resisted temptation and ordered myself an
orange juice.
Paddy smiled when I put the drinks down on the table.
‘You won’t help me drown my sorrows?’
‘You’re more than capable of doing it on your own.’
‘I hate being on my own.’ He picked up his fresh glass. ‘When I look at Mam and Dad
… still together, despite everything. Still strong. Stronger, if anything. Why can’t I have that?’
‘You’re seriously asking me to answer that?’ I said.
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‘Wouldn’t I like the answer?’
‘Probably not.’ Because what other answer could I give, but that he’d had all that with
me – or the potential for all that – and he had chosen to throw it away?
‘And what about you? Still on your own? Or have you had a change of heart, and
forgiven your man?’
I sipped my drink and gazed around the pub. It was beginning to fill up now as the night
grew cooler. The landlord had switched the lights on, making it seem pleasantly warm and
snug, even on a summer’s evening. It struck me how much I’d missed this: nights out in cosy
pubs, being part of society, being with someone else. I’d probably shared more conversation
with Paddy this evening than I had over months with Rich. The appeal of the independent life
seemed to have dulled tonight.
‘Eve?’ Paddy needled when I didn’t say anything.
‘There won’t be a change of heart.’ Should I be honest? I supposed Paddy deserved it,
after some of the things he had told me tonight. ‘I’m not going to forgive him. I don’t care
enough about him to try.’
He looked at me then with unexpected clarity for someone who had drunk several
whiskeys.
‘Will you ever forgive me?’
The question hung, suspended between us. At last, I gave the only answer I could.
‘I don’t know.’ And the moment stretched, because that answer seemed too much, too
bare, and we both knew it. Why couldn’t I give the same answer as I had done about Rich?
That I didn’t care enough? Because it wouldn’t have been true. How I wished it was.
I finished my orange juice and began to push back my chair.
‘Wait,’ Paddy said. ‘What are you doing on your day off tomorrow? Have you made
plans?’
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‘Yes,’ I said, relieved to be back on safe ground. ‘I’m going to Bath.’
Paddy laughed. ‘Let me guess. The Roman Baths? I should have known. Haven’t you
had enough of the Romans this week?’
‘As if I ever could.’ I smiled. ‘Anyway, I’m not just visiting the Roman Baths. I’m
going to the thermal ones too. It’s one of my Be Kind to Yourself treats.’
‘Your what?’
‘It was Caitlyn’s idea.’ I’d forgotten I hadn’t mentioned them to him. I rummaged in
my bag. ‘She made some vouchers for me when she left home. She insisted I had to do some
things to treat myself after she’d gone, and send her the vouchers to prove what I’d done. Look.’
I held out one of the cards to him. I’d already filled it in.
BE KIND TO YOURSELF
VOUCHER NINE
I, Eve Roberts, have been kind to myself by going to the thermal baths!
‘Caitlyn designed this? She’s artistic?’ He ran his finger over the floral pattern that
filled the edge of the card. I wondered if he was thinking back, remembering the times he had
spent colouring in with Caitlyn. It had been one of her favourite activities, and Paddy had
always been first choice to help her with it. ‘She’s talented.’
‘She takes after Faye.’
He nodded. Faye’s paintings had been like her: full of life, colour and brilliance,
extraordinary in their imagination and execution. It was the only career she had ever
considered, and her paintings were beginning to sell well in the months before she died. ‘No
interest in archaeology?’ he asked.
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‘None at all. She hated history.’ I smiled. I’d done my best, but she had still dropped
the subject at the first opportunity. ‘She settles the nature not nurture debate. None of my
influence has rubbed off.’
Paddy tapped the card in his hand. ‘This is your influence. This is kindness. Faye
wouldn’t have done this. She never spared a thought for anyone but herself …’
I stared at him, surprised. What was he talking about? Everyone had loved Faye; she
had dazzled and charmed wherever she went. But he only met her after Caitlyn was born;
perhaps she had been wrapped up in herself and her baby then, but wasn’t that normal? He
didn’t know her like I did. She had spared a thought for someone else: me. She had always
look
ed out for me and protected me; he and Faye had been the two people I had counted on
most.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘Why would you say that?’ But he looked at me, took a
swig of his whiskey, and shook his head.
‘Forget it. I didn’t mean a thing. Too much whiskey and it starts doing the talking for
me …’ He smiled. ‘Let me come with you,’ he said. ‘It’s years since I’ve been to the Roman
Baths.’
I was about to say no, but even drunk he knew how to find my weak spots.
‘Help me out, Eve. I could do with a distraction, you know? Take me with you or I’ll
only have the whiskey for company, and you wouldn’t be wanting that now, would you?’
How could I say no when he put it like that? I couldn’t in all conscience leave him to
spend the day assaulting his liver, and weeping over a baby that in another life might have been
his, could I? That was the only reason I agreed. It certainly had nothing to do with the brown
eyes that twinkled at me in a way I had never managed to resist; nothing to do with the warm
smile that wrapped around me like no one else’s had ever done. This was a favour for him, not
something I would have ever chosen. So I gave him a reluctant, ‘fine’, and headed off to bed.
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*
I drove us down to Bath the next morning, not confident that the alcohol would have cleared
from Paddy’s bloodstream yet, although he looked perkier over breakfast than I did. I don’t
know how he managed it; no one would believe that I was the one who practised healthy living.
There was no sign of a hangover as he spent the whole journey talking. He told me about some
of the most memorable digs he’d been on over the years; about how he had set up his own
archaeology business and the sort of work he undertook with that; and he made me snort with
laughter at the behind-the-scenes gossip from his TV show, and the celebrity programmes and
events he had taken part in. He was indiscreet and irreverent, seeming wholly unimpressed and
unswayed by the celebrity world other than as a means to an end. He didn’t mention his mum
or anything about his personal life, and I was glad; there had been enough soul-baring last
night.
We found a space to park near the Royal Victoria Park, and strolled in the morning
sunshine towards Hot Bath Street, where the thermal baths were located.
‘Shall we meet up later?’ I asked, when we arrived. ‘I’ll be a couple of hours.’
‘No need for that,’ he said. ‘I’m coming too.’
‘Coming where? In here?’ I pointed at the entrance to the baths. Surely he wasn’t
serious?
‘Yes. We agreed last night. And I thought I was the drunk one …’ He grinned.
‘But I thought you meant you wanted to come to Bath. Capital B. Not actually in here.’
‘What’s the problem? It’s not a ladies only session, is it?’
‘No.’ I despaired as soon as the word slipped out. Why had I admitted that? He’d thrown
me the perfect excuse and I’d let it slip through my butter fingers. ‘You don’t have any
swimming trunks,’ I said, with a flash of inspiration.
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‘You mean I can’t skinny dip?’ He threw back his head and roared with laughter,
presumably at the look of horror I could feel freezing my face. ‘Ah, you’re so easy to wind up.
There must be somewhere I can buy a pair. Know anywhere that sells tight Speedos?’
He was having far too much fun at my expense. I rallied.
‘Go straight down there to Stall Street,’ I said. ‘But don’t go for the Speedos. They
show every lump and bump – or lack of them. They’re so unforgiving to the less well-endowed,
aren’t they?’
Paddy grinned and leant close to my ear. ‘No worries there,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t tell
me you’ve forgotten.’ And he headed off towards the shops, leaving my cheeks flaming and
my head whirling with memories I’d tried hard to hold back, and that I definitely didn’t want
to be dwelling on when I was about to see Paddy in a state of undress.
He was a quick shopper and soon returned brandishing a carrier bag. We entered the
baths and after a protracted argument, he insisted on paying the entrance fee in exchange for
my having driven to Bath. I thought I’d be able to give him the slip in the changing room, but
after being given our wristbands, towels and dressing gowns, we were directed to a unisex
changing area.
‘I like this place already,’ Paddy said, and smiled in my direction. Ignoring him, I shut
myself in a cubicle and changed into my bikini as quickly as I could, hoping to be safely hidden
in the Minerva pool before he could see me, but my luck was out again. He was clearly as quick
at changing as he was at shopping. When I peered from the door of the cubicle, Paddy was
waiting for me. At least he was wrapped up in the waffle dressing gown he’d been given – no
one ever looked sexy in one of those. And that was exactly how I wanted to think of him – as
not sexy – not like in those memories that were fighting so hard to take root in my head. Why
had I ever agreed to him coming here with me? I should have known it would lead to trouble.
It wasn’t emotional distance I was struggling with today, it was physical.
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My heart sank when I realised we needed to shower before entering the pool. Paddy
stripped off his dressing gown without hesitation and stepped under the water. I watched. I
couldn’t help myself. Not sexy? Who was I kidding? He didn’t have a six-pack, but the years
of digging had given him a solid, well-defined chest that the skinny young Paddy would have
loved. And I had to be honest – the young Eve would have loved it too. The old Eve wasn’t
immune to it either.
‘Had a good look?’ Paddy called as he stepped out of the shower, brushing back his
damp hair and smiling at me. If he was interested in upgrading from television to film, I would
have cast him as a leading man on the spot. It was a mesmerising performance. I pulled myself
together.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘They’re not bad shorts for a quick purchase. Shame about the price tag,
though. Ruins the look. Unless you’re selling yourself? In which case, I don’t think you’re
worth it.’
I shuffled over in my robe, grabbed the price tag that was hanging out of the back of
his shorts, and yanked at it to remove it. Or that was the plan. The actual result of my yanking
was that Paddy’s shorts gaped away from his body, revealing a very shapely buttock. The label
finally came off and the elastic waistband of the shorts snapped back in place.
‘When you’ve finished playing with me, Eve, do you think you could get a move on?’
Paddy grinned as I stood rooted to the spot in mortification. ‘We’ve only paid for two hours.
Much as I’m enjoying the foreplay, on this occasion I think we’d better skip to the main event.’
Sod him, I thought, as he continued to watch me, waiting. Why was I dithering? I wasn’t
normally so self-conscious. I didn’t care about stripping off in front of a group of strangers.
Paddy was just another one, wasn’t he? There was no reason to think he might look and judge,
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mixed with celebrities now. My pale, athletic body would hold no interest for a man used to
orange skin and surgical enhancements. I stripped off my robe and stepped under the shower.
I closed my eyes as the water ran over my face. When I opened them again, Paddy was
standing in front of me, offering a towel.
‘Looking good for forty,’ he said.
‘I’m not forty yet,’ I pointed out – although I hoped I wasn’t going to go to seed in the
few weeks left before my birthday. ‘And that’s not even old. You should know.’
‘You’re right. There’s still a lot of life left to enjoy.’
‘We can only hope so,’ I said. He reached out and rubbed my shoulder, his bare flesh
touching mine for the first time in years, but it was the understanding behind the gesture that
affected me more than the physical contact. I had lost Faye and Dad, and he would lose Alison.
There was a new bond between us that had never been there before.
I could have filled out every remaining ‘Be Kind to Yourself’ voucher over the course
of the morning and still have needed more. The spa was fantastic, and I would have enjoyed it
on my own, but Paddy made it special in the way only he could. We swam, relaxed in the
whirlpool, floated in the open-air rooftop pool, and all the time we shared conversation, laughs
and an easy silence that made me feel twenty again and as if anything was possible. But it was
all an illusion, as temporary as the steam rising from the pool and drifting away beyond sight.
I wasn’t twenty, and there were no possibilities here. I should know better than this.
When our time was nearly up, we stood at the edge of the roof terrace and looked out
over the Bath skyline, seeing the Abbey, the Circle, the Royal Crescent in the distance, and the
hundreds of people hurrying about their daily lives. It was time for a reality check.
‘Don’t do this, Paddy,’ I said, as the sun dried our hair and his arm rested against mine.
‘Do what?’
A Dozen Second Chances (ARC) Page 24
