211
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
‘This. Being charming. Reminiscing. Flirting,’ I added, because there was no other
word for what he’d been doing today, whether he had meant it or not. ‘Trying to make me fall
in love with you again.’
‘Again?’ He turned away from the view to look at me. A loose curl, drying in the sun,
blew across his face. ‘You mean you stopped?’
‘Of course I did. It’s been a long time. What did you expect, that I spent the years
wearing black and pining for you?’
‘Would have been nice …’
I laughed. And this was exactly why it was so dangerous to spend time with him.
Whatever I said, whatever I thought, my heart had a mind of its own where Paddy was
concerned.
‘Would it be such a bad thing to try again?’ Paddy asked. His finger traced an entrancing
loop around my wrist and across the back of my hand.
‘Yes. Been there. Done that. Got the scars. Don’t want to do it again.’
‘You think you can stop yourself?’
And that was the question, because, despite everything, I really wasn’t sure I could.
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘But you can stop it. If you ever cared about me in the past,
do this for me now. Don’t let me fall for you again. My heart’s been broken too many times
already. Leave it alone, won’t you?’
‘I won’t break it again,’ he said, and sealed his promise by pulling me into a damp hug
and kissing the top of my head.
212
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
CHAPTER 20
‘So have you invited him to your birthday party?’ Tina asked. ‘Now that you’re on such close
terms?’
‘Not close,’ I corrected, wondering if she had listened to a word I had told her about
the time I’d spent with Paddy at the dig. She was definitely putting her own interpretation on
what I had said. ‘Not as distant.’
I was splitting hairs, we both knew that – luscious curly black ones. I deserved the
withering look that Tina gave me as she pulled up a weed and threw it into the wheelbarrow. I
began to wish I hadn’t volunteered to help her renovate her back garden over the summer, but
when she’d mentioned the plan and that her husband Graham would be at work, I hadn’t been
able to resist offering my assistance. I had plenty of time to kill now, as she was fond of pointing
out, and plenty of experience at digging. And aside from the relentless inquisition, and although
I still ached from the excavation the week before, I was enjoying it. If I couldn’t find a future
in archaeology, I could always fall back on labouring …
‘Anyway, it’s not a party,’ I said. ‘Only some friends gathering for a meal. It would
seem very tame after the sort of parties he’s used to, with wall-to-wall celebrities, champagne
by the bucketful and goodie bags worth more than we could earn in a month.’
It wasn’t an exaggeration; he had told me about attending a party just like that. After
our trip to Bath, we had taken to sharing dinner together in the pub each night, and he’d made
me laugh until I cried with his description of some of the things that the more desperate minor
celebrities had done to catch the attention of the press at one of those parties. Paddy had sold
his free gifts afterwards to raise money for his mum.
Perhaps I had hoped that Tina would contradict me – insist that Paddy would want,
even expect, me to invite him to join us on my birthday. But she missed her cue, and instead,
she nodded in agreement.
213
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
‘The French place is posh, but it can’t compare to The Ivy, can it?’ She straightened up
from where she had been bending over a flower bed, and rubbed her lower back. ‘Did you see
him on the sidebar of shame yesterday? He was leaving a London club, with a busty blonde
clinging on to his arm. It’s a pity she didn’t cling so tightly to her modesty. Her dress left
nothing to the imagination.’
‘I didn’t see it.’ I was deliberately not looking online. I didn’t want to stalk his
movements, or to keep thinking about him when my feelings had tiptoed so close to the edge
of forbidden territory during our time in the Cotswolds. On the other hand, perhaps it would
cure me of any softer sentiments if I watched him parade around with a stream of attractive
women, and hang out with busty blondes only hours after sharing a farewell breakfast with
me? But that would only work if I believed what I read in the newspapers. Paddy had already
told me how contrived it was – how his agent would often pair him with someone on a night
out, specifically to boost his career or hers. Blondes were the preferred choice because of the
contrast with his dark hair, he had said. His personal taste had never been for blondes, as I well
knew …
I shoved my spade into the ground again, trying to push away such thoughts. Tina had
decided to dig up a row of rose bushes to make way for a vegetable patch, and that was my job
for the day. The bushes did look tired and straggly, and I should have approved of the interest
in healthy living, but I couldn’t help a pang of sadness as I levered the spade under a root to
lift out the plant. I would miss seeing them when I visited Tina. Paddy had been the first person
to buy me roses – the only person who ever had: six perfect red blooms, because it was the six-
month anniversary of the day we had started going out. He had said that six was his lucky
number, and that he would buy me six more for our six-year anniversary. Would he have
remembered, if we had made it so far? One more thing that I would never know.
214
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
‘Have you no plans to see him again?’ Tina asked. She had the easier job, resting on
her kneeler, genteelly weeding. I was beginning to wish she had a more physical job so that
she would run out of breath for talking.
‘No. Why would I?’ I carried on quickly, in case she felt inclined to answer that.
‘Although I suppose I will see him on Friday. Only because he’s coming to officially name and
launch the minibus at The Chestnuts,’ I added, when Tina looked more interested than the
comment deserved. ‘Gran is insisting that I attend too, although I’m not sure why. I’ve done
my bit with the fundraising.’
‘But don’t you want to see him?’ she asked. ‘I thought you said you got on well when
you met in the Cotswolds. Did sparks not fly again?’
‘Absolutely not.’ There she went again, putting words in my mouth. I was sure I hadn’t
told her that we had got on well; although if I was being honest, it was probably accurate. We
had got on well, better than I could have expected – and definitely better than I could have
wanted. It wasn’t sparks flying that I was worried about. They could be stamped out. It was the
slow-burning fires causing the sparks that were much more dangerous, quietly taking hold and
spreading until it was too late, and you were consumed. That wasn’t a position I wanted to be
in again.
‘I’ve managed without Paddy in my life perfectly happily for seventeen years,’ I said.
‘I don’t need him in it now.’
‘D
on’t you?’ Tina smiled at me. ‘I’m not sure you can claim perfect happiness unless
you try the alternative, can you? What if there’s more happiness on offer? You wouldn’t want
to miss out on that, would you?’
*
‘I’m glad to see you’ve got your glad-rags on, our Eve,’ Gran said, when I wandered into her
room at The Chestnuts on Friday evening, to see if she was ready for the official naming
215
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
ceremony of the minibus. She was exaggerating: I was wearing a floral tea dress, which
matched the month rather than the weather; I hadn’t made any special effort – or not much. ‘Is
this in honour of the bus or are you seeing a fella later? Do I need to start looking for a dress?
Perhaps an emerald green one for the Emerald Isle …’
‘You already have a gorgeous dress,’ I said, ignoring her insinuations and kissing her
cheek. I pointed at the yellow frock she was wearing. ‘Another of Mrs Pike’s? That woman
must have to pay for an extra room to house all her clothes.’
‘I’ll have you know this is brand new,’ Gran said, smoothing the fabric over her knees.
‘We’ve been having lessons on the internet. Who knew that all the catalogues were on the one
screen now? Isn’t that a grand idea? I picked this up in a summer sale. Seventy per cent off!
You’d be hard pressed to better that.’
‘It was a bargain,’ I agreed. Probably because no one else wanted to buy that colour,
but I refrained from making that observation to Gran. ‘Stick to the online shopping, though,
and don’t browse elsewhere. There are things on the internet that would make your hair curl.’
‘Really?’ Gran grinned. ‘Happen I could save a bob or two on that girl who comes in
to do my perm …’
I prowled round the room, picking up her bag and stick and all the other things she
insisted she needed for the ceremony, as if she was going out for the day rather than into the
car park for an hour. I didn’t often come into her room, as she liked to hold court in the
conservatory when I visited on Sundays. She had updated her photographs since I had last been
in, and now a picture I had given her of Caitlyn in Paris sat between one of me and one of Faye
when we had been of a similar age. I had never asked Gran to update my photo; I didn’t think
either of us wanted to be reminded that I was growing old and Faye wasn’t.
I stared at the photos of Faye and Caitlyn side by side. Although I had pictures of Faye
in my house, I rarely looked at them now, and it was possible to forget, sometimes, how similar
216
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
they were. Over the years, as Caitlyn had grown older, she had stopped being an extension of
Faye in my eyes and become herself. It hadn’t always been that way. At first, I had seen Faye
in every look and gesture of Caitlyn’s, a comfort and a torment in equal measure.
‘They’re so alike,’ I said, as Gran joined me in front of the pictures.
‘Looks-wise, maybe,’ she replied. ‘Caitlyn’s a proper bonny lass, like her mum. Takes
after you in all other ways, though.’
I glanced at Gran, wondering if she meant that as a criticism, but she smiled at me. ‘You
did a grand job, love.’ Her voice gave an unexpected wobble. ‘You should be proud of yourself.
I couldn’t be prouder of the pair of you.’
That ‘did’ burrowed into my heart and left a hole. I wasn’t ready for the past tense. My
job wasn’t done. I loved her too much to ever stop looking out for Caitlyn; I owed it to Faye to
never stop looking out for her.
‘Is it time to go?’ I asked, unwilling to pursue this conversation and to accept praise I
didn’t deserve. Gran glanced at her watch – a gold Rotary given to her by my granddad on their
wedding day, and brought out for special occasions along with her chunky sapphire
engagement ring. I never met him; he had died after ten years of marriage, and Gran had never
married again. ‘I struck gold the first time,’ she had always said, if anyone asked. ‘You don’t
settle for brass after that.’ I took her arm and squeezed it, touched once again by her devotion
to him after so many years; her devotion to all of us.
‘I reckon we’ve kept them waiting long enough, don’t you?’ Gran said, and grinned.
‘Best foot forward. Time to make our entrance.’
It was a cloudy but dry evening, with the muggy warmth of early August, and this
display of decent weather had helped to draw a small crowd to The Chestnuts for the naming
ceremony. I looked around as I led Gran out of the front door. A minibus-sized object stood on
the drive, covered in a blue cloth and gold ribbon – the corporate colours of the motor company
217
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
who had provided it, I noticed, from the conspicuous sign next to it. Some of the dining-room
chairs had been brought outside and set up in rows nearby. A couple of trestle tables on the
lawn were laden with drinks and cakes donated by the families of the residents; I’d sent in a
bottle of elderflower pressé and some of Gran’s favourite shortbread, and I hoped there would
be some left for her. And there was Paddy, standing in front of the cake table, a cupcake in his
hand, which he couldn’t seem to find time to eat because of the determined conversation of a
young boy.
‘Shall we rescue him?’ Gran asked, nodding in Paddy’s direction.
‘I don’t think he needs it,’ I replied. Despite being hampered by the cake, Paddy looked
wholly absorbed in the conversation, leaning down towards the boy, answering every question
seriously and gesturing with his free hand. This was just how I had seen him with the volunteers
and students on the dig: patient, enthusiastic, a natural teacher. The thought flashed into my
head: is this what he might have been like with Caitlyn, if he had stayed? But I felt no bitterness
on my account, only sadness on hers, that she had missed having this man in her life.
Without any intention on my part, we gravitated towards Paddy in time to hear him
answer an earnest question about how he rehomed any worms he uncovered on a dig.
Apparently satisfied that the worms were treated kindly, the little boy ran off. Paddy looked up
and caught me watching. He smiled.
‘Phew,’ he said, pretending to wipe his brow. ‘That was the toughest interview ever.’
The joke didn’t reach his eyes, and I felt a pang of sympathy for the man who had sat with me
in the pub, regretting the missed opportunities in his life, and yearning for a child who would
never be his. But perhaps it was empathy, not sympathy, because hadn’t I spent much of my
life doing something very similar? Maybe we both had the life we deserved.
Paddy bent down and kissed Gran’s cheeks. ‘Look at you, Phyllis. Bringing some much
needed sunshine to the occasion.’
218
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
‘What do you mean?’ Gran said, pretending to object while she merrily soaked up the
attention. ‘This is grand weather for Lancashire. You’re a soft southerner at heart, Paddy Friel,
despite being half Yorkshire.’
Laughing, Paddy turned my way and kissed my cheeks too. The young Paddy had never
kissed my c
heeks – there were no memories attached to the gesture – and yet … It was all one
great mass of confusion. So much about him was familiar and so much alien. Was the essence
of the man I had loved still there? Were the parts I had hated? Or – and perhaps this was the
biggest danger – had he genuinely grown into someone else, someone I might fall for all over
again? His brown eyes smiled right into mine. I mustn’t fall. I had bolted the door of my heart
long ago, so that no one else could reach in and touch it. But a little voice whispered inside me:
what if someone had never truly left?
‘Look sharp,’ Gran said, giving me a nudge with her elbow, and drawing my attention
away from Paddy. ‘I think the action’s about to start.’ She looked at Paddy, who was still
holding the cupcake. ‘Could they not run to a bottle of champagne to christen the bus? What
are you supposed to do with that? If it was made by Mr Craig’s daughter, it could smash the
windscreen if you’re not careful.’
‘Don’t worry, they haven’t got me doing anything more strenuous than cutting a ribbon.
Even that has to be done under supervision.’
‘In case you injure yourself?’ I asked. ‘Are you that valuable?’
‘Not me.’ Paddy laughed. ‘They’re more concerned about the bus’s bodywork than
mine. It does nothing for the old ego, I tell you …’
‘I suppose that’s the way of fame,’ I said. ‘One day you’re enjoying the champagne and
red carpets, the next you’re lucky to have a hard cupcake and a patch of muddy grass.’
Paddy roared with laughter, much more than my comment deserved. Gran nodded at us
both.
219
Kate Field
Eve and Paddy
‘About time you two were friends again,’ she said. ‘No one’s getting any younger. Shall
we head on over? I don’t want to miss anything.’
She linked her arm with Paddy’s, gathered me in with her stick, and led us back to the
drive where the chairs were beginning to fill up with residents and dignitaries. Ignoring the
seats, Gran made a beeline for a man with a camera in his hand, and I sidestepped the stick and
A Dozen Second Chances (ARC) Page 25
