by Caragh Bell
‘Sure, I’m A-Okay. I just fucked another girl a month before my wedding.’ He looked stricken. ‘This is a giant mess, Lyd. Surely you can see that?’
She knew exactly what he was talking about. She could easily imagine the guilt and shame he was feeling; she had experienced the same thing when she was with Dominic.
‘I’m sorry.’
He started to pace. ‘We’ve got to stay away from each other. I can’t see you again. You’ve got to leave.’
Something clutched her heart.
‘Luca, I …’
‘Just go.’ He turned away.
She turned on her heel and walked away, tears flowing from her eyes. She deserved it. She had taken what didn’t belong to her. Now she would have to pay the price.
Standing in the shower later, she let the powerful jet beat down on her incessantly. Every part of her body ached and her back was covered in angry red marks.
She had arrived back to the room to find Mathis’s stuff gone and a note telling her never to contact him again. No one had seen her return and for that she was grateful.
Viciously she rubbed shampoo into her hair, which was a tangled mess. How had things turned so crazy? One minute she was eating melon with him, the next she was having sex with him against a tree.
She shuddered. It was all so wrong; she was mortified that she had lost control like that. Why was their relationship always tainted? Why was it always complicated? Charlotte flashed through her mind. A young girl who didn’t deserve to be treated this way. In a month’s time they would be married; she would just be a last-minute fling, forgotten and buried.
She was sad that it had ended the way it did. Luca had changed. He was no longer the playboy with the morals of an alley cat; he was more responsible and genuinely recognised the enormity of their actions. She understood and empathised with how he must be feeling. The stomach-churning guilt – the self-loathing.
If her mother knew what she had done. Or her dad …
She shivered.
She couldn’t go back to that. Not after clawing back some respectability.
The facts were simple. Luca saw it as a mistake and regretted it. It was plain from the look on his face.
It was all over.
Chapter 34
The next morning, she procrastinated before going down for breakfast as she didn’t want to meet him. Or her. She didn’t think that she could handle it.
When she finally arrived down to the dining room only Colin and Val were left. Colin had managed to eat most of his pancakes and Val was mopping up his egg yolk with some bread.
‘Lydia!’ Colin called. ‘What the hell? Sam is gutted you missed her.’
She took a seat opposite them and smiled wanly. ‘Where is she now?’
‘Getting packed.’ Colin beckoned to the waitress to refill his coffee cup. ‘You’d better call up to her room before she goes.’
The waitress held up the coffee jug and gestured to Lydia.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Lydia said.
The waitress poured.
‘Have the pancakes, they’re fab.’ Colin nibbled on a croissant. ‘So, you cried off early last night. You missed Ollie and his Irish dancing.’
Lydia giggled, despite the sick feeling in her stomach. Luca could walk in at any moment. She struggled to concentrate.
‘He was a regular Michael Flatley. Hopping around on his tiptoes, doing his one, two, threes like a madman. At one stage, he swung Anthea around so much she nearly took flight.’
She tried to imagine that but failed.
‘Mum and Dad are off to Mallorca today,’ she said, changing the subject.
‘Luca and Charlotte took off early,’ Colin said. ‘He looked terrible. I always say it – I think he drinks too much.’
Val, busy reading The Times, grunted. ‘Luca isn’t my favourite guy in the world, but you are in no position to judge.’
Colin scowled at him and turned back to Lydia. ‘Anyway, he barely said goodbye to anyone.’
‘Really?’ She poured herself some juice with a beating heart. ‘Is Tyler still here?’
‘Oh, upstairs with Laura, I presume. They were a disgrace last night. I thought he’d kiss her face off.’
Lydia couldn’t focus. Luca was gone. He had gone back to America.
She tried to identify her feelings but failed; she was too emotionally wrought to understand. The love of her life had made love to her but had regretted it. It was a no-brainer. He would never speak to her again.
‘Lyd, you should eat something,’ advised Colin. ‘You’re looking very skinny lately.’
‘Jesus, I’m going to have some eggs!’ she protested.
‘Good,’ retorted Colin, sternly. ‘No one likes a stick insect.’
Colin’s flat was deserted when she got home. Dropping her keys on the hall table, she lugged her bag into her room. All traces of Mathis had been removed. He had beaten her to it. His bag was gone and his toothbrush was no longer standing next to hers in the bathroom.
She sighed. She felt bad about the way she had treated him, but it was a relief to be alone again. She was in too much of a mess emotionally to deal with a relationship. He would be better off without her. Long-distance relationships rarely worked and she had no intention of moving back to France.
Samantha rang half an hour later from the airport.
‘Lyd! We’re about to board the plane!’
‘Oh, Sam! Have a blast!’
‘I’ll text you! Thanks again for being so great yesterday.’
Lydia blew kisses down the phone. ‘See you when you get back.’
She envied Sam. Italy sounded amazing. She was due a holiday herself – maybe Colin would take a week and accompany her to somewhere sunny.
The doorbell rang just as she was pouring a cup of tea. She padded over to the door and looked through the spy hole. She gasped. It was Mathis. His brown curls filled the lens.
With a beating heart, she opened the door. ‘Hi,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Hey, Leedia.’ He didn’t smile. ‘I forgot my phone charger.’ He walked by her and straight to the bedroom.
She loitered at the door, unsure of what to say. He arrived back almost immediately, the white cord hanging out of his pocket.
‘So, I go back today.’ His brown eyes looked straight into hers.
She could sense his wounded pride. He truly was a great guy; he just wasn’t the guy for her. His dark-brown eyes looked wary and hurt. He paused awkwardly, as if not sure whether to leave or not. She reached up and kissed his cheek.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
He inhaled her hair and sighed.
They stood like that for a few moments, both wanting different things.
Suddenly, he grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the lips. ‘You will regret zees. Je te promets.’
He slammed the door behind him.
She rested her head against the wall. She was too confused to process how she felt. Fate was a funny thing; she imagined the gods playing with her life like puppet masters to her marionette. Luca had loved her, she had rejected him. Now, she loved him totally and absolutely and he was in love with someone else. Mathis, in the background, had offered her everything but she was emotionally unavailable. The gods were cruel; she imagined them laughing as they watched her life unfold like a Greek tragedy.
Laura rang her at that moment. ‘Darling girl, I’m off home.’
Lydia couldn’t grasp what she was saying. ‘What? Why?’
‘Mummy rang. I need to get back. There’s some crisis about an interior decorator. Sorry to cut everything short.’
‘Don’t worry, Laura. It’s no problem.’
‘I’ll text you – maybe we could meet in London?’
‘Sure, sure. Buzz me.’ The line went dead.
That was a welcome surprise. She couldn’t handle meeting anyone right now. Laura was astute and would have known something was up immediately.
She wondered what h
ad happened with Tyler. She made a mental note to text her when she had her brain back together.
She noticed a message on her phone from her mum.
Flight is at 3. Text u ltr X
She had forgotten about Mallorca. Oh, thank the Lord for small mercies! Her mother would have guessed straight away. She had a sixth sense when it came to her children.
She tried to gather her muddled thoughts. With all the action, she had no time to think about Luca.
Luca.
In a flash, the night before came flooding back. It seemed like a lifetime ago. His lips on hers, his hands on her body. Her cheeks reddened when she thought of how she had scratched his back. She had marks from the tree, but he must have some from her nails.
She went straight to her bedroom, flopped on the bed and closed her eyes. She felt exhausted but exhilarated. Unsure of what to think or how to feel. Her emotions were all over the place, trapped in a paradoxical whirlwind of elation and self-loathing, delight and guilt.
The fact that Luca was gone filled her with sadness, but she didn’t blame him in the slightest. She knew only too well the pain and guilt of having an affair. Not that she could call it that.
There had been no messages; no contact whatsoever. She had half expected a text or a sign. The reality was hard to face but it was obvious that she would never see him again. The line had been crossed.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
Joe studied the photos of the wedding on her phone. They were sitting in their usual spot, next to the photocopier. The office was buzzing with life; everyone was in a good mood due to the heatwave that had seized the country.
‘You look sensational, girl,’ he concluded after much analysis. ‘That dress was like a glove.’
She immediately felt a new wave of guilt. That dress was lying in a crumpled, torn heap in her wardrobe. It was beyond repair: a symbol of passion and forbidden love.
‘It’s not a dress you’d wear too easily,’ she said. ‘It’s too posh.’
‘Your own wedding, maybe?’ he suggested. ‘Although word on the street is that you’re back on the market.’ He sipped his coffee.
‘Let me guess … Colin!’ she muttered, frowning. ‘He just can’t stop yapping.’
‘What happened?’ he asked, his head to one side. ‘He was so hot – it’s an awful shame.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she answered firmly. ‘Now, do you want me to pick up that parcel or not?’
‘Right, bossy,’ he said, putting his hands up in defeat. ‘Message received loud and clear.’
‘Joe? The parcel?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Pick it up at the post office.’
She picked up her bag. ‘I’m just sick of talking about my problems, Joe. No offence.’
‘None taken. It’s refreshing to meet a girl who’s so self-aware. The amount of break-up stories I’ve had to endure …’ He yanked his head in Chloe’s direction. ‘Boring tales of egocentric woe. I’m a saint.’
She blew him a kiss. ‘See you at lunchtime? We could go to the English Market.’
‘Sure thing. I need to pick up some sushi for dinner anyway.’
Chapter 35
Two days later, her gloominess had still not abated. She kept checking her phone for a message, but none came. Each time she unlocked her phone to look, disappointment flooded her being. As a result, she was emotionally drained from it. She began to resent her phone; she hated it when it beeped as it filled her with hope.
As her parents had flown off to Mallorca, she decided to take some annual leave and go home to West Cork. She was exhausted from the wedding and work was punishing too. Adam had been understanding; he could see that she was at a low ebb.
‘We’ll miss you, Lyd,’ he’d said gruffly.
‘I’ll be back next week,’ she said in surprise. It was not like Adam to show any emotion.
‘Rest up and come back refreshed.’ He turned back to his Apple Mac. She had been pleased as Punch. She was valued at work and that meant the world.
The house was quiet when she arrived. The air was stuffy due to the heat of the summer, so she opened all the windows. Dust particles were clearly visible as the sunlight streamed through the sitting room, dancing as they floated through the air.
It was weird to be here without her parents. Her mother’s habitual domain was the kitchen and it seemed empty in her absence. All her bowls and recipe books were stacked away neatly and the fridge was empty except for some smoked salmon and a carton of buttermilk. She made herself a coffee and, grabbing her book, she headed upstairs to lie down.
Three hours later, she woke up suddenly. For a second, she didn’t know where she was. Slowly she remembered that she was in her own childhood bed, clutching her worn version of The English Patient. It was still bright outside as it was close to the solstice. She could hear noise downstairs and her heart froze.
Who the hell’s here?
‘Lyd!’ Molly clear voice floated up the stairs. ‘Are you here?’
She relaxed immediately. She should have guessed it was one of her siblings. The thought of conversation was not appealing, so she remained quiet.
‘Lydia! I know you’re here. Colin rang me!’
She forced herself to answer. ‘Yeah, I’m here.’
Molly trudged up the stairs and burst into her room.
‘What’s this I hear about Mathis being single?’ Her blonde curls bounced in the sunlight which was streaming through the window.
‘Not now, Mol.’ Lydia turned towards the wall. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Her sister ignored her and flopped down on the bed. ‘You’re like a black widow,’ she continued. ‘No man stands a chance.’
‘You’ve got it in one.’
Go away, Mol.
Molly shook her gently. ‘Get up, for God’s sake. It’s a beautiful day outside.’
‘No. I’m staying here.’
‘So, what happened? Why the split?’ She shook her again. ‘Ollie and I had a bet. He won, of course.’
‘A bet?’ That got her attention and she sat bolt upright. ‘About what?’
‘How long Mathis would last.’
‘What?’ Her eyes flashed angrily. ‘Molly!’
‘Calm down. It wasn’t for money or anything.’ She smiled.
‘I’m glad you’ve so much faith in me.’
‘I had!’ she protested. ‘That’s why I lost.’
‘Just go away.’ She sniffed dolefully. ‘I’m in a bad mood.’
‘It was obvious, you see – at the wedding,’ Molly continued breezily.
‘What?’ Lydia was weary of it all.
‘That Mat didn’t stand a chance.’
‘Oh?’
‘You’re mad about that Luca guy, aren’t you?’ Molly’s blue eyes regarded her steadily.
Lydia opened her mouth and shut it again. There was no point denying it. She flopped back onto the pillows. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She fingered the edge of her blanket sorrowfully.
Molly got up to leave. ‘I was watching you two all day. He likes you too. It was as obvious as anything.’
Lydia smiled sadly. ‘It doesn’t matter, Mol. It’s all too late.’
Molly paused at the door. ‘Never say never. Do you want to open a bottle of wine and watch a movie later?’
‘I suppose.’
‘Cool. I’ll make some spaghetti. We can make a night of it.’
The door banged shut.
Molly and Lydia Kelly had been thick as thieves throughout their childhood. Initially, Lydia had been put out when the new addition had come home from the hospital: a little blonde bundle who had usurped her as the baby of the household. She had eyed her warily for weeks until suddenly little Molly became Lydia’s ‘baby’ and her sole responsibility in life. They became inseparable; they shared a room and often a bed. Lydia made Molly do all the mischievous things she didn’t want to do herself. They stole sweets from the larder and hid them in their ro
om for a midnight feast. Molly knew Lydia better than anyone; she understood her.
A night in with a bottle of wine sounded amazing. Lydia smiled. Life had to go on. She had to get over her melancholy. Luca was gone, never to return. She had to start again.
Colin rang after dinner.
‘Are you two pissed already?’ he tutted as Molly giggled loudly in the background.
‘We are perfectly sober, thank you,’ Lydia insisted. ‘Mol just made the best bolognese I’ve ever eaten.’
Molly put her hand on her heart. ‘That’s so sweet!’ she mouthed.
‘Best bolognese?’ shrieked Colin. ‘Take that back!’
‘Oh, besides yours,’ Lydia smoothed it over. ‘That goes without saying.’
‘What are you up to for the evening?’ he asked casually. ‘Did Mathis ring or text?’
‘No,’ answered Lydia in a small voice. ‘I’ll never hear from him again.’
‘She’s a black widow!’ shouted Molly in the background. ‘Deadly to the male species!’
Colin giggled. ‘So, you heard about the bet then?’
