by Laura Elliot
Was she seeing someone? To imagine her in another man’s bed, her hair riotous on his pillows… those sea-green eyes deepening to the lambent glow of desire. It was an uncomfortable image, unsettling. His phone rang. He checked his watch, surprised at how quickly the time had passed. He was due in Karin’s apartment in an hour.
‘Why not answer it?’ Nadine said. ‘I won’t eavesdrop.’
‘I’ll take it later.’ He cut the call but the lightness had gone from their conversation. Nadine, appreciating that the mood had changed, finished her wine and pulled on her jacket.
Outside Sea Aster they hesitated, awkward at parting.
‘See you round,’ she said. ‘You should ring Eleanor and see if she’s okay. This won’t have helped her stress levels.’
‘Stress levels, my foot. That was a con job if ever I saw one.’
‘She wasn’t faking, Jake. Keep in touch with her.’
* * *
He stopped for petrol on the way to Karin’s apartment and, on impulse, plucked a bouquet of roses from a bucket beside the pay station. Every traffic light seemed set at red to deliberately thwart him. He eyed the roses lying on the passenger seat and recalled a conversation on talk radio in which a women claimed she broke off her relationship with her partner when he presented her with a bouquet of garage roses. Too tawdry and cheap, she said. A lazy, thoughtless gift that reflected his view of their relationship. Afterwards, the phone lines zinged with women who claimed they would have welcomed roses, no matter where they originated, as a sign that their husbands thought about them, even for those brief moments when they filled their cars with petrol. Should he dump the roses in a refuse bin and arrive empty-handed? Better keep going. Karin was ignoring his apologetic texts and he was already forty-five minutes late.
He heard a dog barking when he stepped from the elevator. High yelps that belonged indoors, probably a small dog with scurrying legs and a puffed-up sense of its own importance. The yelps rose to a crescendo as he hurried towards Karin’s apartment.
‘You’ve arrived.’ She made this terse, self-evident statement when she opened the door. ‘Thank you for taking the trouble to show up.’
‘Sorry I’m late. It’s mayhem out there tonight. You should have seen the traffic on the Eastlink. There’s a concert on the – ’
‘Why didn’t you answer your phone when I rang earlier?’ She faced him, arms folded. Her pouting bottom lip, glossily purple, told him roses would not appease her. She strode ahead of him into the kitchen. Tonight she had promised to cook her special signature dish. He had no idea what it was but he had expected the kitchen to be redolent with spices, steamy and warm. Instead, the chrome fittings glittered coldly and the hob was empty, not a saucepan in sight. She had been cooking earlier. The faint smell of turmeric and cumin still lingered, despite the low, determined purr of the air extractor above the hob.
‘I was driving.’ He laid the roses on the counter. They looked even more wilted now, the petals turning brown on the edges. ‘Didn’t you get my texts telling you I’d been delayed?’
‘If you’d taken my call it would have saved you the trouble of texting. I rang to tell you tonight was cancelled.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’re a liar,’ she stated. ‘That’s what’s wrong.’
‘Don’t make that accusation again, Karin.’ The dog was still barking, its high-pitched yaps adding to Jake’s unease. He was unsure if it was the persistent yapping or her shrill certainty that fanned his anger. ‘You’d better tell me what’s bothering you or I’m leaving right now.’
The dog, as if exhausted or muffled, fell silent.
‘You should see this before you leave.’ Karin flounced from the kitchen, her high heels sparking against the tiled floor and stood in front of the television in her living room. She pressed the record button. ‘How do you explain this?’
His heart sank when he saw the banner Protecting Marriage in a Dysfunctional Society draped above his mother’s head. The conference had featured on the six o’clock news and Karin had recorded it. He listened to Eleanor’s forceful voice declaring, ‘I also want to thank my family, my son Jake and his beloved wife, Nadine, for their unwavering support over the years and for the years to come.’
The camera swept over him and Nadine. Why was his arm around her? They looked like besotted teenagers staring into it. Why on earth were they smiling? He remembered the moment. Their anger at Eleanor’s duplicity. The invasive lens. The news item then cut to the protest and an interview with Eleanor when she emerged from the conference room.
‘You told me you were getting a divorce.’ Karin’s eyes glittered. ‘Now I discover that you’re living happy ever after together.’
‘We are getting a divorce…’ He gestured towards the television. ‘That’s not what it seems – ’
‘Oh, really.’
‘We did it for my mother’s sake. She’s been unwell.’
‘More lies.’ Her voice quickened. ‘I was foolish enough to believe you. You’re just the same as the others. Every word from your mouth was a lie… what a fool I’ve been… you’re just another lying, deceitful bastard…’
He tried to grasp what she was saying but she spoke too fast. He caught some words – abusive, manipulative, controlling – and tried to recognise himself in the verbal storm flaring around him. He grasped her shoulders. The fine blades tensed at his touch. Her head jerked back as if avoiding the smack of his hand. In the midst of his confusion he understood that he was no longer the target of her anger.
She had told him about her relationships with other men. Relationships that had left her scarred and suspicious. A thug called Hal who cut up her clothes one night and flung them from the window of their New York apartment when she went clubbing with her friends. Malcolm, an alcoholic, Cody, a control freak, Jason, married but desperately pretending otherwise when he placed an engagement ring on her finger, and Carl, so physically abusive that she needed two years of therapy before she had the strength of will to leave him. She wore her scars lightly or so he had believed until tonight. Now, the veneer was stripped aside, her hurt fully exposed.
‘Listen to me, Karin,’ he pleaded. ‘Today meant nothing. Do you understand, nothing. Nadine agreed to do it for my mother’s sake. We’re worried about her health. Otherwise we’d never – ’
‘We… we… we. You’re supposed to be single. How can you be apart when you’re still living under the one roof?’
‘Believe me, it’s possible. I’d leave Sea Aster tomorrow if I could. So would Nadine.’ He brought her hand to his chest, allowed her to feel his heartbeat, the pumping rhythm, part shock, part exhilaration. ‘You told me that space doesn’t matter. It’s how close we are here that counts.’
He watched the anger drain slowly from her face, ease from her shoulders. She undid the buttons on his shirt and pressed her ear to his chest.
‘My God, your heart is thumping. I’ve really upset you… I’m sorry… so sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘But it does. If we don’t have trust between us, we have nothing except deceit and disloyalty.’ Her voice was muffled against his skin. ‘Does Nadine know about us?’
‘No.’
‘Why won’t you tell her?’
‘I will… when the time is right.’
‘There is no right time. If we’re serious about each other she needs to know the truth.’
‘She will… soon.’
‘I love you, Jake.’
She was waiting, poised to fly if he hesitated too long. She had saved his sanity, stopped the onslaught of depression when the structures in his life collapsed around him.
‘I love you, too,’ he said and hoped she could not hear the hesitant crack in his voice.
The row was over, their passion heightened by the ferocity of her anger. She marked him with her teeth, drew blood with her nails. Astride him, under him; her body arched and hollowed as a cat at play, she allowed him no res
t that night.
‘You and I belong together,’ she murmured when they were finally sated, exhausted. With the tip of her finger she gently pressed the mouth she had kissed so violently, sliding it between his lips to touch his tongue once more. ‘Don’t ever lie to me, Jake.’
CHAPTER 26
NADINE
Tomorrow morning I fly to London with Liam Brett to attend a jewellery trade fair. The idea of spending an overnight trip with Liam is off-putting but he’s made it clear that, outside of business hours, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ve arranged to meet Stuart in the evening to say goodbye before he leaves for Alaska. I’ll see Ali on Sunday before I fly home. I need time with my daughter. She tells me so little about her life, the auditions that end in dashed hopes, the struggle to keep believing in herself, the new drama group she’s joined.
I stop outside Brown Thomas. It’s late July and the colours on display in the department store windows are becoming more subdued. I need to buy something new for the London trip and have thirty minutes to spare before I’m due back at Lustrous. The magazine is being redesigned and updated. A graphic designer has not yet been appointed and interviews are being held this afternoon. Jessica has asked me to join her and Liam on the interview panel.
I take the escalator to the fashion floor. The dress I choose is moss-coloured and slim fitting. I’ve become aware of my body in a new way. The glance I used to cast at my reflection has become a lingering examination, critical and objective. I enjoy the sleek feel of my stomach, the easy glide of a zip over my waist. And I’m beginning to notice looks from men. Have I been blind to the signals in the past or am I exuding a primal spoor, pheromones, the subtle scent of freedom, availability, desire? Occasionally, I go to pubs with Gina from Admin. Three men have invited me to their beds. It’s a direct invitation. Time is precious these days so why waste it on irrelevant conversation? I refuse politely and wonder if it was that brutal with Jake? Memories gather a softer skin over the years… but, no, we made love but we also talked. We confided slights and hurts, perceived or otherwise, to each other and breathed secrets with promises never to tell. But that’s also untrue. Some secrets lie quiescent until something, a song, a casual meeting, a face that looks familiar but belongs to someone else cause memories to rise in a clamour.
I see her as I emerge from the department store with my carrier bag. She moves, vanishes. My forehead feels clammy, the crowd too dense, pushing, shoving as I walk towards the top of Grafton Street. Did I imagine her? Or is she once again in my space, stealing my oxygen?
The afternoon passes quickly. We interview four graphic designers. None of their presentations excite me. Jessica and Liam feel the same way. I’m about to close my file when Liam says, ‘There’s someone else we should interview. She came late to me with her portfolio. Said she didn’t realise we were looking for a designer until the submission date had passed. She’s worth a look.’
He passes a CV to Jessica who scans it and hands it to me. Saliva fills my mouth when I see her name.
Jessica glances across at me when she hears my intake of breath. ‘Do you know her?’
I nod and press my hands flat on the table to keep them still.
‘Did you tell her to submit her portfolio to us?’
‘No. I haven’t seen her for years.’ I sound unruffled. How strange. I touch my wrist and scars, faint as silvery skeins, seem to ripple the surface of my skin.
Jessica’s eyes skim over the pages of Karin Moylan’s CV. ‘Liam’s right. She certainly has an interesting track record. Bring her in.’ She nods at Liam and leans back in her chair.
They rise to greet her. I force myself to stand with them and lean across the table to shake her hand. She still has the ability to render me once again in a gauche, shambling teenager but I’ve learned poise and pretence in the years since. My grip on her hand is firm. If she’s surprised to see me she hides it well. Her smile is as white as I remember.
‘It’s nice to meet you again, Nadine.’ She’s dressed city-smart, a charcoal-grey skirt and jacket, the waist emphasised by a wide blue belt.
‘I didn’t realise you were back in Ireland.’ I concentrate on sitting down rather than collapsing back into my chair and Jessica waves Karin to a seat.
‘I returned some months ago,’ she replies. ‘I wanted to be close to my mother. She’s not getting any younger.’
‘But she’s well, I hope.’
‘She is indeed, thank you.’
‘So, how do you two know each other?’ Jessica asks.
‘Oh, we go way back,’ I reply.
‘We certainly do.’ Karin addresses her directly. ‘Nadine was my best friend in secondary school. We haven’t seen each other for years. How long do you reckon that is, Nadine?’
‘Twenty-five… could be twenty-six years,’ I reply. ‘You haven’t changed at all, Karin. I’d have recognised you anywhere.’
‘Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment and return it to you. You’re looking wonderful.’
Are we really fooling the others with this civilized exchange? From their polite expressions as they glance at her application letter it would seem so.
I glimpsed her at the airport and she gave voice to a discontent I’d barely acknowledged. A discontent that could be ignored because I was afraid to squander my marriage with notions of freedom. Then her card fell from Jake’s wallet. I stared into the kingfisher’s chilling gaze and stopped pretending to be satisfied with the predictability of the life Jake and I had moulded from our rough beginnings.
I turn away, unable to look at her and stare at the wallpaper. An abstract swirl in lurid colours. The room feels as if it’s shifting on its own accord. The effect is nauseating and brings me back to the journey home from Monsheelagh in the back seat of my father’s car. Eoin drove too fast around the bends on the cliff road and my stomach churned as I lowered the window, seeking fresh air too late to prevent me from throwing up.
Karin had a new friend when we returned to St Agatha’s in September. Vonnie Draper was thrilled by the secrets she confided to her. A whispering campaign began soon afterwards and grew implacably. Each day brought new distortions, new lies, all making their way back to me by those who believed I should ‘know’ what was being said behind my back. I smelled, according to Vonnie: bad breath, body odour, sweaty feet. I had ‘lesbo’ tendencies and always tried to kiss Karin whenever I slept over in her house.
I cleaned my teeth until my gums bled, stood under scalding water in the shower and refused to walk to school with Jenny in case this gave rise to new rumours. I sat alone in the school canteen and lived in dread that Karin would tell Vonnie about the letters I’d written during our holiday. Love letters that she had stolen from me.
Jessica’s brisk voice snaps me to attention. ‘Liam was very interested in the ideas you submitted with your CV, Karin.’ She makes a steeple with her fingertips and taps them together. ‘Could you begin by telling us how your specific design skills could benefit Lustrous.’
Karin swivels her chair slightly to the side and opens her portfolio case.
‘I’ve developed my skills through years of experience from working abroad,’ she says. ‘I’ve worked mainly in New York but also in other major cities. However, my most important attribute is my creative talent, which, I believe will be of enormous benefit to Lustrous.’
‘Can you elaborate on those talents?’ Liam asks. He’s more animated than I’ve seen him all afternoon. Before the interviews began we worked out the specific questions we would ask each interviewee. I hesitate when my turn comes. Jessica inclines her head towards me as the pause lengthens.
I clear my throat and ask Karin to tell us what she knows about Lustrous and its readership. She answers without hesitation, trots out circulation figures, statistics, history. She quotes headlines from the first issue of Lustrous, mentions some spectacular photographic shoots that have featured in the magazine over the years. Jessica is warming to her. She and Liam lean forward expect
antly when Karin removes mock-up drawings from her case and hands them around. She switches on her laptop and does a Powerpoint presentation. She’s worked on other magazines, a film company, some banks and corporations.
Her designs reflect the latest graphic trends from New York. She demonstrates how the fonts from Vanity Fair and Hello would look on Lustrous and suggests various alternatives. One of the fonts catches my attention when it flashes on the screen. It’s gone before I can figure out why it looks familiar.
Liam’s eyes glide over Karin as she speaks. I can almost hear the smack of his lips. No chance he’ll ever call her ‘Babe.’ She shows the magazine pages on the screen from different angles and is obviously used to presenting her ideas to a panel.
‘Nadine, would you like to give us your opinion on what we’ve just seen?’ Jessica waits expectantly for my reply. I scrabble around for something constructive to add to the discussion. I know that she and Liam have already made up their minds.
‘I like the overall design.’ I’m amazed at my self-control, the conviction I convey as I explain why the pages should be less crowded with content. More white space would make them easier on the eye for the average Lustrous reader, whose attention span could be compared to that of a gnat. I keep the latter opinion to myself. Jessica takes her role as her celebrities’ chronologist quite seriously.
‘I have to leave now.’ Liam stands and shakes Karin’s hand, speaks directly to her. ‘There’s someone waiting to see me in my office but I’m interested in discussing your ideas in more detail, especially in the context of Core, my other magazine. Call in on me before you leave and we’ll talk some more.’
Jessica’s mobile phone rings. She checks the screen. ‘Apologies, I need to take this.’ She moves towards the window and out of earshot.
Karin sits, legs crossed, poised. I hoped desperately that she would do a bad interview but she hasn’t put a foot wrong. The bows on her shoes, the buttons on her white blouse, the brooch on her jacket are the same blue as her belt. Each co-ordinating detail trails attention over her body.
