The Blue Pool

by Siobhan MacDonald

  Charlotte guessed that Kathy was thinking of her own brother Lawrence, dead a long time now.

  “Yep, me and Richard, we’re a team,” Charlotte said, jokingly pumping a fist in the air. She tried to lighten the mood. “Oh, by the way, Kathy – don’t tell Richard I told you about the promotion. He’d kill me. It isn’t in the bag just yet.”

  “My lips are sealed,” said Kathy.

  Charlotte sighed and glanced at Kathy. “It would have happened years ago, you know,” she said. “If only Richard had been a little more political. He should have done the golf thing. That’s where all these decisions are made, you know, on the golf course. You’ve got to play the game, stay in with the right people. But Richard’s never been like that. He’s too straightforward.”

  “Richard’s just an all-round nice guy. You can’t blame him for that,” said Kathy. “But tell me more about this handyman.”

  “Okay then,” Charlotte said taking a deep gulp of air. “Well, he has a stutter. There’s damage to his hand from the assault in Egypt, oh – and I think his wife died a few months back.”

  “The bastard was married?” exclaimed Kathy.

  “Yes. Yes, he was.”

  “What kind of women marry men like that, Charlotte? I mean good God, what kind of world is it?”

  Charlotte could see Kathy joining the dots making exactly the same connections she herself had made when presented with the sketchy description of the guy who’d been up at the Blue Pool that day. This guy they wouldn’t charge.

  “That’s everything you know?” asked Kathy.

  “Until tomorrow, yes.”

  “Roll on tomorrow,” said Kathy, pulling a face.

  As they drove through the countryside, Kathy continued to talk. Mainly about her daughter, Emma. She spoke at length about the hazards of kids drinking from plastic water bottles. Was Charlotte aware that they released toxic substances when reused? Kathy didn’t wait for a reply to any of her queries. Charlotte found she couldn’t squeeze a word in edgeways. Some things never changed.

  On first glance, Kathy looked in reasonable shape. The clothes were a bit on the raunchy side. Charlotte admired Kathy’s spirit. And she seemed to dote on her daughter. Of course life had taken its toll. The episode in Berlin had probably been the worst. When she’d been hospitalised with a full-blown nervous breakdown. It had been shortly after that that Charlotte had lost contact with Kathy. There may have been one or two Christmas cards but nothing more.

  Abruptly, Kathy changed the subject.

  “Do you ever hear from Tomas Walsh?” she asked.

  It was the second time in a week Charlotte had heard that name.

  “Tomas Walsh – that blast from the past,” she said.

  “You two were good together,” said Kathy. “You know of all the university relationships, I thought you two would make it. I thought you’d live in an old rambling house in the country with the country doctor, or emigrate to Australia and live in the outback. Tomas, a flying doctor, both of you surrounded by a bunch of kids. I was pretty stunned when you two broke up.”

  Charlotte flinched, surprised at how Kathy’s ramblings could open up old wounds. It hurt even now. In her mind’s eye, he hadn’t changed, Tomas Walsh – clever, funny, and oh so very handsome.

  “Yeah…,” Charlotte said after a bit. “I was crazy about Tomas. But you know how it was, Kath. There was so much bad feeling after Sarah. So much suspicion. Believe it or not, it got even worse after you left university. Ruth and I had a pretty rough time, I can tell you. The fact that no one ever came forward… And we three were the last people to see her alive. You know what they say…” Charlotte didn’t finish. As she clenched the steering wheel, the memories came rushing back.

  “None of the reporting was supportive,” Charlotte said after a lull. “God knows what Angela Nugent had said about us to the press. So, I guess it wasn’t that surprising that Tomas dropped me like a hot potato. I hadn’t expected it, you know. I was really cut up…”

  Charlotte hadn’t foreseen it, never anticipated such a consequence. “So, to answer your question, Kath – no, I’ve never heard from Tomas Walsh. I have no idea where he even is. I haven’t set eyes on Tomas Walsh in years.”

  Charlotte’s emotional outburst silenced Kathy. “We lost a lot, didn’t we?” she said after a while. “Much more than just a friend.”

  “We sure did,” Charlotte agreed.

  “So, your husband Mark, what’s he like then?” Kathy said breezily. “Anything at all like Tomas?”

  The bluntness of the question surprised Charlotte. No one had ever asked her to compare the two men before. Few people knew Charlotte’s history well enough to even pose such a question.

  “Oh, Mark’s a great guy,” she said, “great with the kids. He’s fairly easy-going except where Tom our eldest is concerned.” Charlotte slowed to check a road sign. “He’s a hard worker and he’s sweet.”

  “Sounds like a find,” said Kathy, staring straight ahead.

  But Charlotte could tell her friend was unimpressed. It was not surprising. Charlotte had painted a flat, unremarkable, portrait of a man who’d kept her company for the last twenty years. How could Mark ever compare to the memory of the handsome med student that had amused them all in university, a lifetime ago now?

  “You’d like Mark if you met him, I know you would,” Charlotte added, flicking away a tiny fly that danced on the windscreen. “That’s something I’ll have to organise. When all of this is over.”

  Should Charlotte now enquire about the state of Kathy’s marriage? Hell, Kathy had asked Charlotte enough blunt questions. She’d go for it.

  “I take it that life isn’t a bed of roses with your own marriage?”

  “Oh, me? I married a prize ass,” Kathy laughed scornfully. “You know, the fucker tried to divorce me on the grounds that I’m unstable and unsuitable for marriage.”

  “No way! Surely not?”

  “Yes, way. Not content to sue for divorce like a normal person, he wants to put the boot in, and go for a catholic annulment as well. He isn’t even religious. The bastard will probably get his way too, dazzling everyone with his weasel words.”

  Jesus. Poor Kathy – she knew how to pick them.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be reciprocating with any social occasion for you to meet my soon-to-be-ex-husband,” Kathy said, sounding grim.

  “There’s a pool in the hotel,” Charlotte said, changing the subject.

  “Nice,” said Kathy.

  “Yeah, Ruth said she’d go for a swim while I came to get you.”

  “And what does she make of this guy wanting to meet us?” asked Kathy. “Ruth has an opinion on everything. To tell the truth, I’m a bit nervous of meeting her after all this time.”

  “Don’t be daft. You’ll be fine,” Charlotte said. “Ruth thinks the same as us really. That it’s creepy and it’s weird. That apart from the mention of some kind of St Christopher’s medal that’s supposed to be significant somehow, we don’t have much to go on.”

  “You mentioned the medal to Ruth? What did she say about that?”

  “I don’t recall. She’s as nervous as we are about tomorrow.”

  “She didn’t think the medal thing was weird?” Kathy asked.

  Kathy was getting weird herself. Obsessing again.

  “Yes. Of course she thinks it’s weird, Kath. This whole business is nothing if not weird.”

  “Too right.”

  Out of the corner of Charlotte’s eye, she could see Kathy chewing her nails. The love-hate relationship between Ruth and Kathy had always fascinated her. In university, Kathy had always allowed Ruth to take over, to provide advice – wanted and otherwise, to drag her out of whatever crap she found herself in. In a way, there was a strange bond between the two that Charlotte felt was not entirely healthy.

  All along, Charlotte suspected that something else had happened near the Blue Pool that day. Something that only Ruth and Kathy knew about. B
ut nothing was going to bring Sarah back, so what did it matter?

  “What a lovely hotel!” Kathy exclaimed. They’d parked the car and were entering the ochre colored building. “It’s got real charm.”

  “The whole village is like this,” said Charlotte. “You should see Richard’s cottage,” she said proudly. “I think this hotel used to be an old shooting lodge.”

  “I guess I check in here.” Kathy was making her way to the desk. Charlotte looked at her watch. “See you in the dining room at seven thirty then, Kath? That’s the arrangement I made with Ruth. Is that okay with you?”

  “Perfect,” said Kathy. “Time to freshen up and gather my thoughts.”

  “I could do with that myself,” said Charlotte, hoping she betrayed none of the pity she felt for this emotionally fragile woman whose forty-plus years had seen her weather more storms than most.

  “Richard joining us?”

  “No, Richard’s working tonight. He’ll be here in the morning at eleven,” Charlotte replied. “See you so at seven thirty? You know what a stickler Ruth is for time. I hardly think that’s changed.”

  “I get the picture,” Kathy said, throwing her eyes to heaven.

  An hour later, three old friends sat by a window in the dining room with crisply starched table linen and a bottle of chilled white wine. The starters were on their way.

  “Not quite Lydon’s, is it?” Ruth said smiling, recalling the days when Richard would take them out for chicken Maryland and black forest gateau at university.

  “We’ve come a ways since then,” said Charlotte, grinning. “But I know we all appreciated Richard’s kindness at the time.”

  “I think Lydon’s is gone now. There’s something else there now,” said Kathy.

  “Really? I hate to think of things closing or changing hands. It make me feel I’m getting old.” Ruth fingered the black tassels on her evening bag.

  “We’re all heading that way, whether we like it or not. Everything’s going south,” Charlotte made a pretence of hoisting up her breasts.

  The other two laughed.

  “What would you give to roll the clock back?” Kathy asked suddenly. She perched her chin in her hand, looking from Ruth to Charlotte. “Just to roll it back to the end of our first year in university, before all this happened, before Lawrence, before all that?”

  “We’d all like to be able to roll the clock back,” Ruth answered immediately. She looked out the window.

  A coach load of American tourists had pulled up outside.

  “I thought I’d put all of this behind me for good. I thought it was well and truly over. How wrong I was,” Ruth said, looking from Charlotte to Kathy. “I’ve had to relive the whole sorry saga over the last twenty-four hours. I don’t know about you two, but I’d never told my husband, you see. Last night I had to sit down with Colin and I had to tell him everything that happened for the first time.”

  Ruth stopped fiddling with the threads of her bag and sat quite still. “Colin said something then that I’ve known for years,” She paused. “So now, I’ve got something to tell you that I should have told you years ago. It’s not something I’m proud of. But I’ve lived with the shame for too long now, and all I hope is that you won’t think too badly of me. But I’m afraid you probably will.”

  Charlotte stared at Ruth. She’d been right all along.

  Ruth did know something.

  Ruth

  Present Day

  “Stop!” said Kathy.

  Ruth had scarcely opened her mouth before Kathy jumped in.

  “There’s something I need to say first,” Kathy said, her face now blotchy. “Please… please don’t interrupt or I won’t be able…” Kathy put up a hand signaling for quiet. “I was thinking about it coming down on the train,” she said, looking at Ruth. “You’ve covered it up for far too long, Ruth, and I’ve been such a coward.”

  Ruth stared at Kathy, gobsmacked. Trust Kathy to hijack her disclosure. Exasperated, she indicated that Kathy should continue.

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Charlotte looked from one to the other, bewildered.

  “It’s okay, Charlotte,” said Ruth. “It’s just a misunderstanding that’s gone on far too long. That’s all. Let me explain.”

  Kathy banged her fist on the table. The cutlery shook.

  “No, Ruth, it wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was deliberate. It should have been me on that day, twenty-five years ago. I was the one supposed to hitch alone. Me. It was never supposed to be Sarah. I was a cheat.”

  Nearby diners glanced in their direction.

  “What are you talking about, Kathy?” said Charlotte, sharply.

  “Let me –” said Ruth.

  “No, no, no!” Kathy had gathered up a head of steam. “For once and for all, please let me explain myself.” She banged on the table again.

  “It’s alright, Kathy. Go on then, we’re listening,” said Charlotte, looking apprehensive.

  Their waiter looked over, alarmed. They were causing a scene. Ruth also indicated that Kathy should continue.

  “That day on the road, we’d been waiting for ages but nobody would take three of us,” Kathy said, gulping. “We were there for hours. We decided to split up. To split up into two and one. So we tossed a coin and I lost. I started blubbing like a fool.” She ran her hands distractedly through her hair. “But here’s the thing, Charlie…”

  “Yes?” Charlotte said, listening intently.

  “Sarah volunteered to take my place. To hitch alone. She said she didn’t mind.” Kathy’s hair looked ludicrous, she’d been pulling it this way and that, her high-pitched rambling resonating around the dining-room. Ruth wished she’d quieten down.

  “Sarah’s the one who should sitting here today – not me!”

  “Is everything okay, ladies? Sorry for the delay. Your starters are on the way.” The waiter had sidled over to their table.

  “Fine, thanks. Just catching up,” Ruth snapped, then reddened at her rudeness.

  This wasn’t an ideal venue for their tête-à-tête. But there was little Ruth could do. She breathed deeply. Her turn now. Kathy’s distress made what Ruth was about to say, seem all the more callous. But Kathy was a head-wreck, one minute Ruth wanted to throttle her and the next to give her a hug.

  “Kathy, you’re wrong,” Ruth said firmly. “Please, let me –” Ruth raised her hand to request a hearing. “It should never have been you in the first place, Kath,” Ruth continued. “It was never supposed to be you. That’s what I’ve been trying to say, if you let me get a word in edgeways. You should never have been in the second toss. That toss should have been between me and Sarah, not you and Sarah. I lied.”

  “I’m completely lost,” said Charlotte said, exasperated.

  “Okay,” said Ruth. “It isn’t that complicated,” she said. “I was the one who suggested we split up, that we toss a coin to see who would hitch alone, and who would hitch together. And we were so broke that we didn’t even have a coin – so we used Kathy’s St Christopher’s medal instead.”

  Kathy was clutching her wine glass.

  “I tossed the medal,” said Ruth. “The first toss was between Kathy and myself. And here’s the thing – I told Kathy she’d lost that toss.” She looked Kathy directly in the eye. “I lied. You never saw the medal land.” She spoke slowly now. “That meant that you, Kathy, were never meant to hitch alone.”

  Kathy stared, absorbing this new information. Ruth felt as if the whole dining room was listening, as if knives and forks were suspended in mid-air.

  “And Sarah won that second toss. Fair and square.” The words were sticking in Ruth’s mouth. “I lied,” she said. “You didn’t lose, Kathy. You won – not me. No matter what the outcome, you were never meant to hitch alone.”

  Her grubby secret was out in the open.

  Silence.

  Ruth felt the slow burn of Kathy’s gaze as it was slowly sinking in. In the background, the low chatter in the dining r
oom seemed to resume. Charlotte was looking at Ruth with an expression she couldn’t fathom. Ruth waited for their response – a penitent in the dock.

  As she’d been speaking, their starters had appeared on the table, but remained untouched. Ruth started to shake, surprised at the well of emotion churning around inside her.

  “Is that it?” said Charlotte, surprisingly unfazed.

  “I don’t understand, Ruth…” Kathy’s voice was small and baffled. “Why would you lie? Why would you do that to me?”

  This was going to be hard. The truth was cruel and spiteful. Why had Ruth lied? She’d lied because she was sick of clearing up Kathy’s mess. She’d lied because she was tired of Kathy’s constant martyrdom. She’d lied because she’d felt that it was Kathy’s fault they’d all been in that mess in the first place. She’d lied because if Ruth hadn’t spent so much time sorting Kathy out, she might have passed her exams. She’d lied because she’d been irritated by Kathy savaging her chocolate. She’d lied out of something small and spiteful.

  Ruth’s head was swimming.

  “It’s petty,” she said. “It’s going to sound pathetic and mean because it was pathetic and mean. I lied because you were wrecking my head, Kath. You got under my skin that morning.” Ruth bowed her head. “Remember you had a hangover? You were grumpy and moaning and generally being a pain.” Ruth tried to sound apologetic¸ not daring to look up. “I know it sounds dumb and stupid and pathetic but then you ate most of the chocolate I’d been saving… and that really bugged me…”

  Ruth snatched a brief look at Kathy who was gawping at her.

  “You’re not telling me you lied because I ate your chocolate?”

  Ruth could hear her disbelief. “I know. It’s pathetic,” Ruth whispered. “But, that was one of the reasons, yes.”

  “Christ Almighty, do you have any bloody idea?”

  “Take it easy, Kath,” Charlotte tried to avert a complete explosion.

  “I don’t believe this.” Kathy pushed her plate of shrimp away as if it might poison her. She turned and stared out the window.

  Ruth’s stomach was churning. She shook from top to toe. She topped up her glass with the bottle in the ice-bucket, sending a nearby waiter into a frenzy of apology. No matter what the women thought now, it was done. The wrong Ruth had committed was acknowledged.