by Martha Long
‘Kitty!’ I shouted. ‘Get stuffed. I had enough of you and your trying to fix me up with a man! Remember that gobshite Andy Simmonds, or whatever he was called. Arrived on my door with the bunch of daffodils! You bloody sent him without giving me a word of warning. I went crazy! The nutter stalked me day and night for months!’
I watched her getting red in the face, spluttering the wine all over me and herself.
‘No! No more, Kitty! I mean it!’
‘OK! OK!’ she said, spitting and laughing, holding her dripping hands and mouth out, looking for the napkin.
‘Right! Time to hit the road. I hope my car is still where I left it! Are you coming? The night-time crowd is starting to pile in!’
‘Aww, darling. The night is young!’
‘Yeah, but I’m going home, Kitty. I need to get me health back to full bloom. Remember, it wasn’t too long ago I was a bloody invalid.’
‘You?’
‘Yes, me, Kitty!’
‘Oh, all right! Come on. Where’s the bill?’
‘Oh, Jaysus, Kitty!’ I said, feeling me nerves beginning to rattle. ‘I hope you have enough money for this! How much is it? Twenty quid?’
‘No, darling. Forty-two!’
‘Oh, fuck! I knew it!’ I looked around, seeing where the escape hatch was.
‘Oh! No panic, darling! Take it easy,’ she said, going cross-eyed looking at the bill. ‘Honestly! We really do have enough. Let me check my wallet.’
‘Oh, Kitty! I hope we’re not in trouble. I swear, one of these days you are going to give me a heart attack!’
‘Where’s the notes?’ she mumbled, pulling out a five-pound note.
Oh, sweet Jesus! I tore open me bag, taking out a five-pound note, looking at it longingly. Oh, well! No grub for a week.
‘Here, take this, Kitty! How much have you got altogether?’ I asked, feeling me face go red with the blood pressure flying to the roof.
‘Ahh! Back of the wallet. Here we are. Look! Fifty-pound note!’ she said, waving it at me. ‘Now, that is class!’
‘Oh!’ I sighed, feeling the life coming back into me. ‘What was I thinking, letting you drag me in here without first checking if one of us – you, Kitty – had the bleedin money?’ I roared.
‘Right! Let’s get out of here. What about your car, Kitty? Will we go and see if it’s OK?’ I said, worrying it might really be taken.
She shook her head, not interested. ‘Home! Forget the car. I am going to buy myself a little sports job.’
‘What? That will take most of your money!’
‘No! Don’t be silly. A couple of thousand should do it. A runabout really. Something second-hand but good. Ohh, poppet, it really is great seeing you looking and sounding so well,’ she said, wrapping her arm around me shoulder.
‘Yeah, it sure is, Kitty. It sure is!’ I mumbled to myself.
Thank you, God, for staying with me. It looks like I made it through, I thought, saying a silent prayer as I walked through Grafton Street, looking at the lights from the street lamps reflected in the shop windows, then seeing the light seep out, throwing their shadows back to us, two companionable friends, both lost in their own thoughts, walking along the dark side street. I could feel my face settle into a smile, enjoying the warm sultry air of an Indian-summer night. As it caressed my face, I gave a big sigh of contentment. Life is back to being a bowl of cherries. How long is it since I last thought that? A hundred years ago, it seems.
‘Isn’t life just great, Kitty?’ I said, wrapping my arm around her waist. ‘Come on, let’s hope the car is still there.’
She shook her head, grinning at me. ‘No problem, darling. We can always take a taxi!’
‘Huh! You’re incorrigible!’ I laughed, feeling God is in his heaven and all is well with the world.
57
* * *
I finished drying up the dishes and put everything back in its place, then wiped down the sink. OK. What now? I wandered into the sitting room and switched on the lamp. The nights are drawing in very quickly now. I could see the leaves beginning to fall off the trees. Nearly another year over. Just over a week and we’ll be into October!
Wonder whatever happened to Sergei? He never came back! Hmm! Just as well you didn’t lose the run of yourself. Yeah, seems like he was just interested in a little interlude to fill in the gaps between his life here and moving on to his new one. Oh, well! Hope he finds what he’s looking for. It certainly wasn’t me! I thought, giving a little laugh. Blondie was convinced I had met the man of me dreams. No such thing. Happens only in schoolgirl dreams.
I wonder what’s on the television? Or maybe take the mutt for a run? No! It’s getting too dark out. Anyway, I’m feeling too lazy. He got his run today. Hope he’s still in the garden. I don’t hear him. Jaysus! That dog will be the death of me with his carry-on! I’m sick of walking the streets always searching for him. Good! Television it is.
I switched on the television and sat back to watch an old black-and-white film just starting. Lovely!
I leaned forward, munching on a chocolate biscuit, sipping me tea. Jaysus! He’s going to kill her! I knew all along he was the neighbourhood strangler. Now he’s run outa bodies, he’s after the wife! I watched as the poor woman clucked around the kitchen getting his tea ready. She didn’t hear him creep in the back kitchen door. Now he’s silently making his way towards her with one of her nylon stockings stretched out, gripped between his two hands. The music got more haunting, and the tension was increasing. I held my breath, leaving me mouth open, still waiting for the next bit of me biscuit. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I screamed, letting me tea spill all over my skirt. Fuck! What happened? Then the bell rang again. I put the cup and biscuit down on the little table, and went out to see who it was. Bet it’s someone dragging that bleedin dog home!
I whipped open the door and stood staring into the face of Sergei. My mouth dropped open. ‘Oh! Hello! It’s you!’ was all I could get out.
He stood staring at me, trying to read my face. ‘I have missed you,’ he said, stepping into the hall.
‘What?’ I said, staring up at him, trying to figure out what’s happening.
‘I am sorry, very sorry. But I was not free to contact you.’
‘No! What happened?’
‘Please! Let us go inside. Here, take this,’ he said, handing me a plastic bag that was heavy. ‘Wait, I will put it on the kitchen table,’ he said, going in and switching on the light.
I watched as he concentrated his attention on taking out a bottle of vodka and the biggest piece of white cheese I ever saw, wrapped in greaseproof paper. You only see that getting delivered to shops.
‘Where did you get that?’ was all I could say.
‘From the monastery,’ he mumbled, still keeping his attention on the bag. ‘Here! Take these.’ He handed me three boxes of tobacco.
Me eyes lit up. ‘Where did you get them, Sergei?’ I said, looking at him.
‘From my friend, the captain who comes on the cargo ship. Also the vodka,’ he said with a shake of his head and shoulder.
He unloaded all the stuff, sitting it on the table, then reached around, taking down two glasses.
I watched as he poured the drinks, then reached to the table, taking a full bottle of tomato juice he just brought.
‘Come! We will talk inside,’ he said, stepping back to let me go first.
I wandered into the sitting room, seeing the man and woman wrestling on the floor. She was screaming and desperately trying to claw away from him. Fighting for her life. I moved over and switched it off, turning back to look at Sergei.
He handed me the drink without saying a word, then gulped down his own. I watched as he poured another one and sat down.
‘Come,’ he said quietly, waving his hand for me to sit on the sofa.
I sat down, looking at him, then took a sip of my drink, then another bigger mouthful. It tasted cold, but then the heat hit me, and I sat back to hear what he had to say.
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‘I am leaving the order!’
I stared at him, seeing his face serious as he clamped his mouth, giving a shake of his head, meaning it’s definite.
‘You are leaving?’ I whispered, taking nothing in but the shock.
‘Yes!’ he boomed. ‘My decision is made. That is why I have not been here. I needed time. Also, a lot of things need to be arranged. I have spoken to my superiors at length. They have agreed to help me. They have offered me a job. I will work in their hospital. It does not matter to them where I go. They will help me. I am going abroad, Martha, and I want you with me!’
Me heart flew, rattling in me chest. I could feel the colour draining out of me. ‘What do you mean, go with you, Sergei?’
‘I would like to marry you,’ he said quietly, staring at me, then letting his eyes drop, staring at his hands making a steeple.
I went into shock, then noticed the drink in me hand and took a huge gulp! I couldn’t say a word. Questions flew across my mind, but there were so many, they vanished like the wind.
I reached out, grabbing my tobacco, rolling a cigarette. Then I took huge sucks and gulped on my drink. I felt it warming me, then a haze formed in my mind, relaxing my body, shifting out the shock. I still waited, letting myself drop back against the sofa, saying nothing. Then I heard myself whispering, leaning over to him, ‘Why, Sergei? Why do you want to marry me?’
He stared at me, letting me see the gentleness and with it a pain that was coming from the fear of what I might say.
‘I love you! You have captured my heart!’ he said, sounding as if there was no other explanation.
‘But why? When did this happen?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I know you! You are different. You are crazy with life. It burns in your belly. But you hide it, like a sleeping volcano! I see the wisdom of an old woman in you. Yet your soul holds too many tears. It cries like the terror of a child in the night. I see this. I am drawn to you. I want to waken you! I want our passions joined. I need your softness. I need your fire, your passion! We will drive each other crazy! I am a Russian man. We are patriarchal. I do not want us crazy. So I will not try to tame you! I will lead you. You will lead me! I understand you must not be told. I will not do this! I will be gentle. This is how you listen. So!’
I looked at him, waiting for him to finish. My heart was flying. I wanted to throw my arms around him and sprawl next to him. But my head wouldn’t let me do that. So I stared, seeing him look at me with exquisite gentleness. I stared at him, seeing all the vulnerability that was in his soul. He has left himself wide open to me, knowing I could hurt him. I could see it through his incredibly green eyes, and I wondered how someone who could have their pick of any woman with blood flowing through her veins, how is it he could have chosen me?
‘I don’t know what to say, Sergei,’ I said, hearing it come out in a croak.
‘No! Say nothing. Do nothing. Of course it is a shock! I could not make my feelings known to you. First, I had to be sure. Then, to be secure with the new direction my life must take. For that, I had to find a job. I do not want you to give me your answer now. Take time. I must return to Russia. I will live in a monastery there until this is all sorted. Then I will take up a new post in Canada. This is what I want. But if you do not like this, then we can choose. The order will help me to go where I decide.’
I lit up another cigarette, not wanting to make eye contact with him. I felt I needed to be on me own and absorb it slowly.
‘Sergei,’ I said, turning to look at him, then look at me drink, taking a big gulp. ‘My feelings for you are very strong. But my mind has closed down.’
‘Yes!’ he said, standing up and reaching for me.
‘Martha,’ he whispered, holding my shoulders gently and looking into my eyes. ‘I don’t want you to feel pressure. I am holding out my heart, offering it to you on the palms of my two open hands. I want you to know this. Then it is you who will decide to take it or not. I can wait. We can speak on the telephone. If necessary, I will go to Canada. You can follow me if you wish. Or I can come back to you, and we can decide our future together.
‘I am a patient man, Martha. I have waited this long for you. Now I have found you, I hope you have been waiting for me. We will see. This is where my path has been taking me all along. You also, I believe. We were destined to meet in the hospital. This is where our paths finally crossed,’ he said, lifting his crossed palms and slowly shaking them up and down. ‘Now, all that is left for you is to heal. You are finally out of the darkness, Martha. You are safe. God has spared you for a purpose! He is revealing himself to you. You must get used to the bright light. It blinds you. Now you are afraid to believe. But you will slowly trust. Then you will see. Your destiny stares at you!’
Then he sighed, holding out his arms, saying, ‘Dorogaya prihodyat ko mne moya lyubov. Darling, come to me, my love,’ as he wrapped his arms gently around me, squeezing me to him. I could feel the softness of his skin as his face brushed mine. Then he pulled away, kissing my hands, saying, ‘OK, I must go.’
I walked after him, watching as he opened the door and then stepped out and walked down the path. He stopped at the gate and bowed, putting his open hand to his heart, then waved it at me. Then he was gone. Off into the night. Leaving me staring at the gate, wondering had I fallen asleep.
‘No, you are not dreaming, Martha. You are wide awake,’ I said, astonished.
58
* * *
I stood, staring out the window, seeing the robin pounce on the worm. He took off, heading for the garage roof, then landed, trying to wrestle the big fat worm that was nearly as big as himself. I watched, seeing him make mincemeat of it. Jaysus, what a tenacious little beggar, managing to dig him up even if the ground is frozen solid.
I sighed and turned away, gripping the hot mug of tea, letting it warm my hands. I wish Sergei was here! It would be great to sit here now, talking and having breakfast together. Still, as he said, everything takes time. I’m still not ready yet to take that jump into the unknown.
I heard the letter box rattle. Oh, that must be the postman. More bloody bills. Yeah! But maybe there’s a letter from Sergei!
Me heart lifted. I put down the mug and hurried out. One letter. I picked it up and looked at the handwriting. No! Not Sergei! Wonder who this is? Someone writing to me?
I walked back inside and sat down at the dining-room table and lit up a cigarette, then opened the letter. My eyes flew down the page. I could feel me heart stopping, then flying, as my eyes opened wider as I read:
Dearest Martha,
I do hope, when you receive this letter, it will not come, dare I say, as an unpleasant surprise.
Earlier this year, while in Dublin on a short visit, whom should I meet but the sister from your convent. I had no idea of your whereabouts or way of knowing. I was on my way to the airport and actually sitting in the back of a taxi when there she was, walking across the road while I sat waiting for the traffic lights to change. On sudden impulse I told the driver to pull over and bounded after her. I gave the poor woman quite a shock. She was momentarily startled. I introduced myself, asking after you.
It was then I learned about your difficulties. You had poor health, she told me. I was terribly distressed on hearing this. I also learned you have a daughter. How lovely! But it saddened me to hear your marriage was not a success. Oh, but we knew, did we not, dearest one?
Martha, if you would care to contact me – perhaps not! But I would dearly love to hear from you. Do please write. Or you may even telephone me. I have enclosed my phone number. I have only quite recently returned from working abroad. I was a missionary doctor working in the Congo. Yes, medicine! Old loves do not die, my loved one. That, my dear one, is where I have spent the last sixteen years. The same age you were when we first met! Now, I am based in France. Not too far from home.
Do please take care of yourself. I have not forgotten you. You are always in my heart.
My deare
st wishes to you.
Ralph Fitzgerald.
Sweet Jesus! Sweet divine Jesus! It’s him! Ralph! Ralph Fitzgerald. The only man I have ever truly loved. Writing to me after all these years. The wheel has turned full circle. Now, here he is again. He wrote this letter, his hands were on this paper!
I read the letter again. Then put it down on the table and stared out at the garden, not seeing it. Then I picked up the letter and read it again, very slowly. Word by word, line by line. Trying to work out what each word meant.
Then I got up and walked out to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to get myself a fresh hot mug of tea. I carried it back and sat down, lighting up a cigarette. What does he mean, working as a missionary doctor? Has he left the Church? Maybe he could even be married, I thought, feeling me heart sink.
No! If he was, he wouldn’t have written to me. He would never play with people like that. He must still be a priest. But then why is he writing to me? Obviously he knows I am not married. Sister Eleanor told him that. She said the marriage didn’t last long. So he would know! Even understand I am vulnerable. I couldn’t have him coming into my life just to open up old wounds.
No! I think he may want more from me, for him and me. I don’t know. One thing is sure, I have never stopped loving him. Sergei and me, that is different. I could love him, even maybe marry him. I am sure we would be happy together. He is a good man. Very solid. But Ralph! Oh, my God! I would walk to the ends of the earth for him.
Jesus! Right this minute I could phone him. What’s the number? I stared at it, seeing the long number. He has even put the access code from Ireland. Yes! He would have thought about that.
I smiled. Seeing the picture of him. Always so precise. So English. So aristocratic! A gentleman to his fingertips. But he is Irish. He will tell you that, quick enough. Ring him, Martha!
