by Faith Hogan
Anyway, the point now was, Kate Hunt deserved to have her say. It had all been so agreeable last time, standing there in the summer sun. It was though they hardly knew each other, as though they meant nothing to each other all those years ago, as though she had almost forgotten it and him. If they were going to move on, there was air to be cleared between them. The question was; what would he say? He had a feeling the truth wouldn’t be enough. He found himself circling the large outcrop of flattened rock once more. There was no doubt, the bathhouse was quite beautiful. Not at all the kind of place he would have imagined Kate settling for. But then, he had never intended to buy a Norman fortress on the most western coast of Europe.
*
It was great news, wasn’t it? The best news, right? Meg had insisted on flying over for one night.
‘Todd, I actually think you’ve managed to put on weight,’ she said, throwing her arms around him and then holding him away to inspect that he was taking care of himself.
‘It’s the fresh air – I’m eating three square meals a day instead of throwing back two bottles before bedtime.’ Todd laughed at this, but it was the truth. His skin had been grey and his body scrawny when he came here. Now, well, he actually felt himself getting stronger. Meg sent them walking on the beach while she cooked dinner – she had the makings of his favourite shepherd’s pie in her giant handbag.
‘It’s bloody the weirdest thing,’ Denny said. ‘Flipping karma, according to my Meg. Ending up with your ex on your doorstep.’ Denny had laughed when Todd told him the therapist had suggested he ‘seek forgiveness for his past wrongs.’ Denny breathed in the salty air and grimaced, he liked his oxygen more dioxided. He was a city boy; the seaside was for postcards.
‘Fate, it’s like the universe is throwing us together?’ Todd shook his head. He had a feeling Kate forgave him. Certainly, he had not received the bashing he expected and knew he deserved. Perhaps, they could be neighbours. Maybe, they could even be friends.
‘Maybe. The universe would have been better placed to give you that heart attack after the world flippin’ tour.’ Denny grunted. ‘Let’s face it, Todd, everything in life is all about you. Always has been, for as long as I’ve known you.’
‘Well, not any more it seems.’ He shook the sand out of his Birkenstocks. In the distance, the low barrelling bathhouse seemed so bright, airy and carefree. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe Kate actually lived there. Like Todd, she seemed to be entrenched in London life, all those years ago when she’d been the hottest divorce lawyer in London. She had changed little. Perhaps she was thinner. Some fine lines had crept in around her eyes and lips. Her hair had brightened and her cheeks seemed a little hollower. In London, he had never noticed her cheekbones, but then his own skin fell more heavily around his eyes and cheeks too now. Too many of the people he knew in London resorted to surgeons, specialists, and they just looked weird. Kate had colour in her cheeks, life in her eyes and lightness in her step; she looked good. Todd hoped that Ballytokeep would do the same for him, give him that sense of belonging and happiness he craved since Atlantic City, maybe since before it.
‘So, what’s next?’ Denny squinted at him; he was not a sunshine person. Todd had a feeling that he was allergic to the sand and, if he questioned before why he visited so regularly, now he knew. It was all about the tour, the album, and the lads. ‘You’re going to spend the rest of your days here, walking the beach and meditating on what some therapist told you in the cardiac recovery unit and that’s it?’ They both knew that Todd’s attempts at meditation were dismal at best. He liked the idea that people might think he had enough depth to make a go of it.
‘I can think of worse places to hang my hat at the end of the day.’
‘And of course, there’s nothing like the smell of fresh coffee to make a man look at his life choices.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Todd kept his eyes closed, his voice even.
‘I’m saying don’t let you ending up next door to the only woman who came near to getting you to the altar be a reason to give up what you have in London.’
‘Yeah, well nearly never made it first across the finish line, did it?
‘It looks to me like Kate has a very eligible man on her door step night, noon and morning.’ They had watched Kate and a tall bloke sit outside the bathhouse one evening, sharing a bottle of wine while the sun went down. Todd turned away from the window. Sometimes he felt crowded out with the oddest feelings, of course it was just getting over the heart attack, he’d never been jealous in his life before that.
‘She certainly has that.’ Todd smiled.
‘You know damn well, I don’t mean you, Todd.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘You’ve had your holiday; it’s time to get back into the real world again. There’s a big city waiting for you to get back to.’ Denny wanted dates; he wanted the band back on stage. He’d said it at the beginning of this tour, they could sell more music this year than in their heyday. If only he could get them back on stage. ‘If it’s Kate Hunt that’s holding you back, you better forget about her.’
‘Why’s that?’ He had rightly screwed up things with Kate long ago, if they could be friends now, wouldn’t that be enough for him?
‘I hardly need to spell it out for you, Todd. You humiliated her beyond any girl’s worst nightmare and she’s no ordinary girl. We both know plenty who’ll tell you that she’s one smart lady.’
‘Ah, yes, but she’s not a divorce lawyer any more, is she?
‘It doesn’t mean she isn’t smart, Todd. And it doesn’t mean she hasn’t forgotten last time.’
‘She’s not like that.’ Todd said the words low. Kate had plenty of reasons to hate him, but they were older and wiser now, and that counted for a lot.
*
A week later, early morning, when only a few surfers dotted the morning waves, he set off walking before the village woke. It had been a hot and sticky night and, in the end, he left his Caesar bed to take his measure of morning air. Most mornings he kept his head down, his iPod blasting rock anthems that were meant to keep his mind off his proximity to Kate Hunt. This morning, the bathhouse door was open. There seemed to be no one about and, like Goldilocks, curiosity got the better of Todd.
The bathhouse was empty, save for Kate, sitting exactly; it seemed to him, where she should be sitting.
‘You’re my first customer,’ she smiled at him and raised her cup. ‘Actually, I’m not even open yet, but would you like some coffee?’ Her welcome was warmer than he deserved, but he felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t for a very long time.
‘I wouldn’t want to put you to any bother,’ the words did not sound like words he would ever say back in the day.
‘I think, Todd, the days of you putting me to bother are well and truly behind us. Have a seat.’ She went to the coffee machine and expertly set about making him what he truly thought was the best coffee he had ever tasted. It was his first cup, since Atlantic City and even if he hadn’t liked it, he had a feeling he’d have drank it anyway.
‘Perhaps, it’s the company,’ she teased him when he told her so.
‘Maybe. I haven’t seen you about, these last few days, I was…’
‘Worried?’ She smiled at him, but he caught something else in her eyes. ‘About me? Well, thank you, but I’m fine. I’ve just been burning the candle at both ends a bit, so I’ve been taking it easy.’
‘I noticed you weren’t tending the flowers.’ He sounded nervous, knew she’d catch it too.
‘Colin said he’d help me out. My hose is blocked and the water can is so heavy.’ She smiled at him, their eyes locking for a moment too long, and then she turned away towards the kindling fire in the stove.
They made small talk for a while, the season was ending, and she was quite looking forward to it. ‘Lots to be done,’ she nodded towards the back of the coffee shop. ‘Upstairs, I’m still clearing out things that are over half a century old.’
‘Y
ou seem to be enjoying it.’ It was true, she seemed happy, perhaps happier than he ever remembered her.
‘I am. Who’d have thought I’d spend my free hours going through musty old letters and photographs.’
‘Any big spiders?’ She was afraid of spiders, he remembered that.
‘No, I have them all under control.’ She winked at him.
‘Of course, you have Colin.’ Colin Lyons, Todd had asked around, was in and out of here at all hours, hard to miss him, even if you didn’t overlook the place.
‘Colin?’ she said his name as though it was new to her, still somewhat exotic perhaps. ‘Yes, but I also have wonderful sonic devices I bought in the hardware shop. I have them everywhere, had to get something, can you imagine the size of spiders here? No, I’m a technology girl when it comes to spiders.
‘It suits you, here,’ Todd said then; enough of spiders and Colin.
‘I know. I am very happy here, Todd.’ She looked at him for a moment, broke away again. ‘I’m happier than I thought I could ever be.’ She lowered her voice, ‘I wouldn’t want anything to ruin it for me.’
‘I wouldn’t want that either, Kate.’ He leant across and touched her hand, wanted her to know that he meant it too. Her skin was soft and familiar; it sent a tingling current through him. When she pulled away he felt a wrench that surprised him in its ferocity.
‘Good.’ She blushed and sipped her coffee, a small nerve in her lip giving away that she felt it too.
‘It’s probably a cheek, but do you think we could be friends?’ It sounded clichéd, but he had a feeling it was what they both needed.
‘That would be something, wouldn’t it?’ She smiled, traced her fingers about the rim of her coffee cup. ‘Back then, you and I? It is all a very long time ago. That’s where it should stay, too.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You have Claudia now. We are both lucky to have found happiness in the end.’
‘I have to say something, we both know, it needs to be said.’ He thought for a moment she let out a little gasp.
‘Todd, really, there’s no need to…’
‘No.’ His voice was soft and for a second he listened as her breath deepened. ‘It’s something I should have said a long time ago. I was just so…’
‘Up yourself?’
‘Okay, we’ll call that the technical term.’ They both laughed at that, then he stopped, abruptly, this wasn’t funny, not really. ‘I was wrong to do what I did. I mean, I know now, that I was terribly wrong, that I shouldn’t have left you, not like that.’
‘Okay,’ Kate said, getting up to clear her coffee cup. ‘Like I said, you were an arse.’ She kept her attention on clearing invisible crumbs from the table.
‘I’m sorry.’ Todd reached up, touched her arm. Again, that captivating magic coursed between them. ‘I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say, for the way I treated you, I feel terrible about it. It was shabby and cruel and you deserved so much more.’ He let her arm go; gently his hand fell onto his lap. He didn’t need to say anymore. No matter what happened between them, an apology at least was long overdue. He watched as Kate walked towards the counter, dropped her cup slowly, her back still turned to him, her shoulders squared resolutely.
‘Thank you, Todd.’ She did not turn around to face him. She made no movement. He had a feeling that her clipped voice only just held back an avalanche of emotion. ‘You should be going now, I have work to do.’ He watched as she walked slowly to the back of the bathhouse.
The wind, low and cool on the morning waves seemed to breathe something that might have been forgiveness into his face. Todd cried with a candour that came from the very core of him. He walked back to the castle, his face wet with salty tears, but his conscience just a little lighter than it had felt in many years.
16
Robert, 1957
In the weeks that followed, it took him over like a disease. All Robert could think of was Iris. He had never felt anything like this before. He had more women than any other man in the county. It had been easy. Too easy, with most of them. He had it off to a fine art, but now, somehow, when pretty girls came into the bathhouse, it all seemed so mundane. He still smiled at them – of course, he did, it was good for business. Unexpectedly though, now, the will had left him. Iris was there, at the back of his mind all day long. When he went to bed at night, his dreams filled with her. He realized, one morning as he was checking off a delivery, that he would have to formulate a plan. Running the old ritual with Iris was not going to work. He would have to play the long game, but she was worth it. He had to gain her trust first and he knew he would have his work cut out to do that. He stayed away from the hotel for a few days, decided to keep well out of her way. Then, as though providence was looking out for him, he spotted her one day on the pier chatting to Ellie Armstrong who had more children than the woman who lived in the shoe and not a lot more space than she did. On this particular day, she had an especially squally one with her and Robert picked up a sherbet dip with his newspaper before making his way over to them.
‘There you go, son,’ he said as he handed the little bugger the treat. ‘It’s a nice day for a walk on the pier, ladies,’ he said and kept walking back towards the hotel. He could feel the two women watch him. It did not take a lot to have old biddies eating out of your hand. Ellie Armstrong wouldn’t say a bad word against him anyway. He walked on towards the hotel, his step light; in the distance, a fishing boat was making its way towards shore, a halo of gulls proclaiming that they had a successful catch.
‘Good morning, mother,’ he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek when he reached the hotel. He sat at the large scrubbed table that filled the centre of his mother’s kitchen, reached out to feel if there was any heat left in the teapot in the centre. He was out of luck. The pot was warm, but only because it wore a heavy cosy; the tea, he knew, would be black and heavy.
‘Ah Robert, we haven’t seen you all week, what have you been up to?’
‘Not a lot, just keeping busy, you know, summer trade and deliveries.’ It was true, the bathhouse was busy, busier than last year, and the seaweed business was really taking off. He and old Bill Lyons had big plans for the winter. Already they had a decent set-up for drying it out, but Bill was going to convert one of his sheds so they could continue the process over the winter months. ‘I got a call from Cleary’s haberdashery in Dublin, no less, to see if I can supply them with the Carrageen Moss.’ He was delighted; he could already hear the cash register chiming out the sales. Carrageen Moss was little more than seaweed, dried out and put in a fancy box, but the old wives said it held a cure. Robert would be hard-pressed to prove that it actually worked, but he trotted out the line that it helped with everything from asthma to amnesia if you boiled it in milk and ate it as a pudding twice a day.
‘That’s great news, Robert,’ Archie said as he came into the kitchen; he was black with soot. ‘Just doing the fireplaces, never know this time of year what the evening will bring.’ It was true, even in the height of summer the hotel could be cold in the evenings. Robert would not be seen dead cleaning out the chimney in the bathhouse, though; he employed a local lad to do all the dirty work about the place.
‘These are good,’ Robert said, crumbling off the end of a fruit scone from beneath a tea cloth.
‘Oh, yes, Iris was baking earlier. They’re proving a real hit with the bridge crowd in the afternoons.’ His mother gave him a side plate and some jam. There was no picking allowed in her kitchen. ‘Iris served them up with cream and a button of strawberry jam and you’d swear it was the Ritz, the way they went down.’
‘Well, it looks like you struck gold there,’ Robert said, savouring the scone deliberately.
‘For as long as we have her.’ His mother gave a long sideward glance towards Archie. ‘She has plans for one of the big hotels when the season is over. I’ve seen her scouring through the appointments page in the Dublin papers.’ His mother sighed theatrically, as only a woman with forty years in a hotel could. �
�Unless of course Archie was to propose to her.’
‘That’s not very subtle mother.’ Robert laughed to hide his discomfort. The danger with Archie was he could propose to the girl simply because his mother told him to. ‘Perhaps Archie has his own ideas. You can’t rush these things.’
‘Sometimes rushing is the only way to get things done. We both know Archie has no ideas at all. It’s half his problem, it’s what the scarlet fever leaves a man with,’ his mother whispered as Archie washed his hands in the outside sink oblivious to them. ‘No, he won’t do much better than Iris. She’s a good girl.’
‘Is she?’ Robert said, smiling.
‘Robert, you know she is. She would be perfect for Archie and he likes her, I’ve seen him putting flowers in her room. He treats her like she fell from heaven. She’d take the helm of the hotel someday and she’d make sure it remained a place to be proud of.’
‘I’m sure she would, but maybe she has her eye on someone else. After all, her sister married an earl.’
‘An earl’s son,’ his mother corrected him. It was true. Sir Clive probably would one day be the Earl of Mayo. His brother had returned from the war a shattered broken man with poor physical health and a nervous disposition that people tried not to mention. ‘Robert would you have a word with him? You know, just mention that girls like Iris, well, they don’t hang about, do they?’ His mother turned towards Archie, her expression softening at the sight of him.
‘I’m sure that Archie is capable of making his own way in the world when it comes to women.’
‘Come on, let’s put on the kettle and a have a quick cup of tea, I can’t remember when we all sat down together.’ His mother was quick to change the subject.
