Happy People Read and Drink Coffee

by Agnes Martin-Lugand

  “I have a proposition for you,” she said after a few moments.

  I looked at her, even more suspicious than ever.

  “I’m prepared to admit that there’s something going on between you,” she began. “You’re a worthy opponent, so I can’t help admiring you.”

  News to me.

  “Get to the point.”

  “Edward belongs to me, no matter what you do, but he’s got you on his mind and I have to deal with it. So I propose to disappear for a few days; you can seduce him and sleep together. That way, he can move on . . . and come back to me.”

  “I think you need to see a doctor.”

  “Don’t play the prude. Something tells me that you haven’t had a man in your bed since your husband died.”

  I wanted to throw up.

  “You know, getting back to the joys of sex with Edward is a very good way to ease yourself back in. I’m doing you a favor, actually.”

  This was becoming really sleazy. I couldn’t string two words together.

  “You refuse? Too bad.”

  She glanced at me one last time before getting her phone out of her bag and dialing a number.

  “Edward, it’s me,” she simpered. “I’m at the pub . . . I was thinking about you. Can we see each other tonight? . . . We need to talk . . .”

  As the conversation continued, her voice changed, becoming softer, more tender. She fiddled with an imaginary crumb in her hand.

  “I’m really sorry about yesterday. I know you need to be alone to work.”

  I couldn’t hear Edward’s replies, but I could guess by what Megan was saying.

  “And I shouldn’t have reproached you for spending time with Diane,” she continued. “You’re a good man, you’re helping her get back on her feet. It really wasn’t my place after what I did to you.”

  I was going crazy. Edward couldn’t possibly be that gullible!

  “But it’s so hard to see you with another woman,” she whimpered. “I know how badly I hurt you. I want to go back to the way things were between us . . . like before . . .”

  It was laughable. It couldn’t work. Impossible. Edward wouldn’t fall into such an obvious trap. He wouldn’t let himself get back into the claws of this tigress who tried to pass herself off as a harmless little kitten.

  “I’m begging you,” she whispered. “Say yes. Just for tonight, please. We can talk about me moving here . . .”

  An evil smile spread across her face.

  “Thank you . . .” she sighed, sounding as if she were about to die. “I’ll wait for you.”

  What a moron! The bitch hung up, got a mirror from her bag, and checked her makeup. She put it away and turned to me.

  “Edward will never change. I know exactly what he wants to hear.”

  “You’re disgusting. How can you talk about him like that? And all your lies?”

  She swept away my remark with the back of her hand.

  “A bit of advice: don’t spend your whole evening waiting for him.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “Poor Diane. I warned you!”

  I headed out to the terrace. I took long drags on my cigarette like a fanatic.

  When I went back inside the pub, I found that Edward had arrived. He and Megan were getting ready to leave. She put her arm around his waist and he let her. I clenched my fists. She was the first to notice me.

  “Isn’t that Diane over there?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” he replied, looking at me.

  She dragged him over to me. Edward and I stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Hello,” Megan said. “What a shame, I didn’t know you were here; we could have had a drink together and really gotten to know each other.”

  She smiled at me looking extremely kind. Edward was watching her with an expression I hadn’t seen on him before. Dumbfounded by the talent of Megan the actress, I let her keep talking without managing to put her in her place.

  “We’ll have to say goodbye, I reserved a table. We’ll get together soon, all right?”

  Completely thrown, I nodded like an idiot.

  “Go wait for me in the car,” Edward told her.

  She gave him a peck on the cheek then said “See you soon” to me. I watched her go. So did Edward. She stopped at the door, turned around and gave us a wave.

  “Are you really going to spend the evening with her?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Don’t forget what she did to you.”

  Edward’s expression hardened.

  “You don’t know her.”

  “Don’t let her hurt you.”

  “She’s changed.”

  He turned and was about to leave, but I held him back by his coat.

  “Are you really sure about that?”

  “Good night.”

  I let go of him; he looked at me one last time, turned, and left.

  He didn’t get home until late that night. I knew he’d locked himself in his darkroom when I saw the red light filtering through the blinds. Megan must have failed.

  My hopes were dashed the next morning when I saw the two of them on the beach. I watched them, hidden behind my bedroom curtains. She wouldn’t let go of him, smiling and batting her eyelashes, I was sure of it. Yet, he was keeping her at a distance. They headed up to the cottages and he walked her to her car. They stood facing each other. I could make out Edward’s blank expression; she put her hands on his chest. He shook his head and pulled away. Megan stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. She got into her car and left. He lit a cigarette before shutting himself away in his house.

  A few hours later, someone knocked on my door. I opened it and found Edward there.

  “Can I come in?”

  I stood aside and he went into the living room. He seemed nervous, walking in circles.

  “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

  He turned around and walked over to me.

  “I’m only going away for a few days. I need some space.”

  “I understand. What about Megan? What is she doing?”

  “She’s staying at the hotel.”

  I stroked his cheek; it was full of stubble. Then I ran a finger over the dark circles under his eyes. He was looking more and more exhausted. He couldn’t stand any more.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  He kept staring at me. To my great surprise, he took me in his arms, held me close, and buried his head in my neck. I held onto him and couldn’t hold back the tears. He looked up, kissed me on the forehead, let go of me, and left without a word.

  As soon as he was gone, I felt miserable. I wandered around my cottage like a lost soul.

  The days passed and each one seemed the same. The tension dissipated. I didn’t go out. I didn’t want to run into Megan and start playing her childish games again. No surprise that Edward had run away. I didn’t hear from him, but that didn’t surprise me. I spent hours sitting in an armchair, opposite Mulranny Bay. I thought back to the time when Colin and Clara had died, my coming to Ireland, meeting Edward.

  One afternoon, my phone rang. Felix. I hesitated a few seconds before answering.

  “Hi.”

  “Still sober?”

  “You can be so silly sometimes. What’s new in Paris?”

  “Oh, nothing special. What about you?”

  “Me neither.”

  “You sound peculiar. Are you OK?”

  “Yes, yes, everything’s fine.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m thinking about my future.”

  “And?”

  “I have no idea, but I hope to find some answers soon.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “I promise. OK, I’ll say goodbye now.”

  I hung up and lit a cigarette.

  Edward had been gone a week. A week when I’d gone over the situation from every angle, imagining every
possible outcome. When someone knocked on my door late that afternoon, I knew it was the moment of truth.

  Edward stood at the door, looking serious. He looked deep into my eyes and I was afraid. My heart was racing. Without saying a word, he came inside and stood in front of the bay window. I followed him and stood a few feet away. He passed one hand over his face and sighed deeply.

  “When Megan showed up, I was overwhelmed by what was happening. I was afraid of what was going to happen. Though I already knew the answer, and I’d known for a long time. If I’d been honest with myself from the beginning, I could have avoided this whole mess.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  “I asked Megan to leave, to go back to Dublin.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “She’s out of my life, once and for all. It’s over. Now, it’s just the two of us, just you and me.”

  I couldn’t speak. I looked at him; never before had he been so calm, so relaxed. He smiled at me, came over, and held me by the waist. I clutched onto his shirt so I wouldn’t fall. I couldn’t look at him, his expression was so intense. He leaned his forehead against mine.

  “Diane . . . I want a real relationship with you . . . You’re the one I . . .”

  I put one finger over his lips. Silence filled the room; it was so quiet I could hear my heart beating. I saw my hands against his chest; I could feel his breath against my skin. I gently pulled away. I walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it. He followed me, sat on the coffee table opposite me, and took my hands in his.

  “We’ll start over, from the beginning,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

  I looked into his eyes. The tenderness and love I saw in them was overwhelming. I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to say something.

  “Listen to me, all right?”

  He smiled at me; I squeezed his hands. I breathed in deeply before starting to speak.

  “I didn’t think it would be so hard . . . while you were away, I thought a lot about everything that happened to us since I got here. You came into my life and I wanted to fight, to laugh, to live again . . . You became so important to me, almost essential . . . I believed in that . . . I believed so much, but . . . in fact, I was deluding myself by hoping you would fill the void within me and . . . that . . . I could love again . . .”

  I was overcome with emotion. I made no effort to hold back the tears. My hands were shaking; I squeezed his tighter. I could tell from his expression how much I was hurting him. But I had to finish what I’d started.

  “But I’m not ready . . . I’m too haunted by the past. I can’t shut out Colin the way you just did with Megan. If I start a relationship with you, I’ll resent you some day for not being him . . . for being you. And I don’t want that . . . You aren’t my crutch or some cure; you deserve to be loved unconditionally, for you alone, not for your healing powers. And I know . . . that I don’t love you the way I should. Not yet, anyway. First I have to get back to being myself, become strong again, feel good on my own, without anyone’s help. Then, and only then, I’ll be able to love again. Completely. Do you understand?”

  He dropped my hands as if I were burning him. He clenched his teeth. I got my breath back, stared into space before delivering the final blow:

  “I’m leaving, because I can’t be near you.”

  Or far from you, I thought. My tears kept falling; we looked at each other.

  “I have my plane ticket. In a few days, I’ll be leaving Mulranny; I’m going back to Paris. I have to finish building my life, and I have to do it alone, without you.”

  I tried to take his hand. He pulled away.

  “Forgive me,” I whispered.

  He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and took a deep breath. Then, without looking at me, he got up and headed for the door.

  “Wait,” I begged, running after him.

  He opened the door halfway, left it open, ran to his car, got in, and left. At that moment, I realized I’d never see him again. And it hurt. It hurt very much.

  The easiest part of all was telling Felix. I called him.

  “You again!” he said when he’d picked up.

  “Yep . . . are you ready to put up with me again?”

  “What?”

  “I’m coming home.”

  “You’re doing what?”

  “I’m coming back to Paris.”

  “Hooray! I’ll plan a big party. And you’ll move in with me . . .”

  “Stop. Absolutely no party. And I’m going to live in the studio above Happy People.”

  “You’re crazy; it’s a hovel.”

  “It’s just fine. And it means we’ll be able to open on time.”

  “Because you’re planning to come back to work? Tell me another.”

  “And yet, it’s true. See you at Happy People.”

  “Not so fast, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

  “Not necessary. I’ll manage by myself. I know how to do that now.”

  Three hours later, with a heavy heart, I went to see Abby and Jack. Judith opened the door.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  She threw her arms around my neck.

  “Where’s my brother? I ran into the slut last night; she was trying to pick up anyone she could in a pub. I jumped into my car to come and congratulate you.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to all three of you.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Let’s go see Abby and Jack.”

  She let me pass. Abby gave me a hug and kept calling me “darling.” Judith must have given them a head’s up. She must have told them that Edward and I were deeply in love. My eyes misted up; I noticed Jack’s knowing look; he’d already understood. I was about to kill the atmosphere.

  We sat down. Abby and Judith were fidgeting on the couch. Only Jack kept his cool; he was watching me.

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Judith cried.

  “My life is in Paris.”

  “What about Edward?”

  I lowered my head and my whole body drooped.

  “I thought you loved him. You’re no better than her; you took advantage of him and now you’re dropping him!”

  “Judith, that’s enough,” Abby cut in.

  “When are you going?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  “So soon!” Abby exclaimed.

  “It’s better that way. There’s something else . . . when I explained my decision to Edward, he left and hasn’t come home. That was three days ago. I don’t know where he is . . . I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jack said.

  Judith leaped off the couch and got out her phone.

  “It’s his voicemail!” she shouted. “He’s going to treat us to his wild animal routine again. We’ve already been through that once! Now a second time? Fuck!”

  Crimson with anger, she threw her phone down and acted like I wasn’t there.

  “I think I should go,” I told them.

  I headed for the front door. All three of them followed me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack put his arms around his wife’s shoulders. Sadness and concern were visible on their faces. At the doorstep, Abby gave me a hug.

  “Keep in touch.”

  “Thank you for everything,” I replied, fighting back the tears.

  I hugged her back, kissed Jack on the cheek, and turned to Judith.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” she said, without looking at me.

  I opened the car door and threw my bag inside. Judith said nothing.

  “Have I lost a friend?” I asked.

  “You decided to be an idiot! I’ve already got enough problems managing my brother . . .”

  “You’ll look out for him?’

  “You can trust me to give him a kick up the butt.”

  “I don’t know what to say.
I would have wanted it to . . .”

  “I know,” she cut in, looking me straight in the eyes. “Can I come and see you in Paris if I feel like it?”

  “Whenever you like.”

  I started to cry and saw that Judith’s eyes were also filling with tears.

  “Get going now.”

  I hugged her tight before getting in the car. I left without looking back.

  I did a big spring clean to erase any trace of my stay. My suitcases were piled up in front of the entrance, then in my car. As I closed the trunk, I looked at the cottage next door, hopelessly empty, no sign of life. My final hours in Ireland passed in great loneliness.

  I spent my last night sitting on the couch, waiting for something, no idea what. Dawn had only just broken when I ended my ordeal. I drank some coffee and smoked a cigarette while going around the house.

  It was gloomy outside, raining, and strong gusts of wind hit me. Right until the end, I’d have to cope with the Irish weather; I’d miss it.

  I felt sick as I locked the door. I leaned my forehead against it. It was time to go; I turned towards my car and froze. Edward was standing there, his face inscrutable. I ran and threw myself into his arms, crying. He held me tight and stroked my hair. I breathed deeply to remember his scent. He kissed me on the forehead, pressing his lips hard against my skin. That gave me the courage to look at him. He put his hand on my cheek and I rested my face against it. I tried to smile but couldn’t. I was still clutching him. I let go. He looked deep into my eyes, for the last time, I knew that, and headed for the beach. I got into my car and drove away. My knuckles were white from holding the steering wheel so tight. One last look in the mirror. He was standing there, in the rain, looking at the sea. Tears blurred my vision; I wiped them away with the back of my hand and drove faster.

  10

  I got out of the taxi in front of Happy People. The driver put my suitcases on the sidewalk. It was closed. No sign of Felix. I stood at the door and pressed my face against the window. Everything was dark and looked dusty. I sat down on one of my suitcases. I lit a cigarette and started looking around.

  Back to square one. Nothing had changed: people in a hurry, the awful traffic, the hustle and bustle of the shops. I’d forgotten how miserable Parisians always looked. A training course in Irish human warmth should be required in school. That was what I was thinking, yet I knew full well that in less than two days, I’d have the same pale face and unfriendly expression as them.