by Cathy Kelly
“Thank you,” she said, and surveyed the town.
Avalon had changed in the years since she’d been gone. Her visits could have been counted on the fingers of one hand, and the last time had been what, well over four years ago? During her time with Jethro, at any rate; back in the crazy days.
It was prettier than she’d remembered, and more up to date. The cars weren’t the wrecked old sedans of her youth, and the place looked polished, more modern, despite what was clearly a deliberate attempt to emphasize its heritage. The hotel was a case in point: in her youth, it had been a rambling place where farmers went on market day to fill themselves with giant plates of beef, spuds and turnips. Now, its beautiful old brickwork had been restored, arched stone windows re-created the sense of a Reformation monastery, and it had been renamed The Avalon Hotel and Spa instead of Lawlor’s Hotel, Fine Food & Drink.
The town square was now pedestrianized and glossy SUVs that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Hyannis Port were neatly parked in designated spaces. There was even a Maserati, sleek and gray like a waiting shark.
“Taxi?” said someone.
Mara had found a seat by the window of Lorena’s Café and was sipping her hot chocolate and enjoying a forbidden piece of red velvet cake, when she spotted the glamorous blonde woman standing at the bus stop. Even though Avalon was a tourist town frequented by visitors from all over the globe, the woman with the long mocha sheepskin coat thrown nonchalantly over her shoulders stood out. Her streaky platinum hair matched creamy retro sunglasses, even though nobody but people accompanied by guide dogs needed sunglasses in Avalon in January. Mara watched, transfixed, as the glossy blonde woman reached into a tan shoulder bag and removed cigarettes and a lighter. When she lit up it was like seeing Faye Dunaway in the original Thomas Crown Affair roll into town. Mara felt like a fourteen-year-old with her first girl crush. If she wasn’t totally in love with Rafe, gorgeous Rafe, she’d follow this woman like a schoolgirl.
And then the woman turned so her profile was visible and Mara knew exactly who this glamorous outsider was: Tess’s sister. This was the famous Suki.
Mara did an unheard of thing—she left some of her cake and the last of her chocolate, and raced out into the square. Here was excitement come to town.
“Hello, you might think I’m a bit mad, but you look like you could be a friend of mine’s sister. She described you to me when I was working with her. Tess Power? Am I right? Are you her sister—Suki?”
Suki turned to face a very pretty, short girl dressed like a 1950s soda fountain waitress, with red hair cascading all over the scarlet coat she was struggling into. “You don’t need a taxi, I’ll help you bring your bags over to Tess. She’s in the shop. I’m Mara, by the way.”
“Hello, Mara,” smiled Suki. “Everything in this town has improved since I’ve been away. We had nothing as gorgeous as you around. Except for me!”
Tess was stocktaking. She had so much stock it was unbelievable. As she looked at each item, she found herself remembering where she’d bought it, how much she’d paid. It was the jewelry that really got to her: beautiful pieces that weren’t necessarily worth very much in terms of gold or jewels, but that must have meant so much to the owner. Lovely things that had been sent to country auctions for some much-needed hard cash. She picked up a bronze bracelet with a piece of amber set with a tiny prehistoric insect trapped inside; probably some 1920s lady’s bracelet worn for amusement. There were quite a few exotic things, imported from all over the world, from another time, when the ruling classes had empires. All sorts of interesting carvings from India and the Far East, and a number of small tables inlaid with various woods.
Tess had always tried to get the stories of the things she sold in the shop. She was fascinated by the history of pieces: where they’d been, where they’d come from, what they meant. Most of the time, she was able to find out quite a lot of detail. She wrote it all down in her notebook and then transcribed it onto the luggage label she tied on each item along with the price. She left these labels on the items as she counted up the stock and organized it into categories. She was in the front room of the shop while Zach was helping in the back room. Every so often he’d shout, “Ma, this thing—I don’t know what to do with it.”
“What is it?” she’d call. A lot of the stock in the back room was stuff she hadn’t got around to labeling or else items she had labeled that hadn’t sold.
“Well, I’m not entirely sure what it is. It looks like some sort of sword.” A swishing noise accompanied this, making it clear that Zach was having a play with the sword.
“That’s a samurai sword, darling,” she said. “Well, a copy, at least. It’s very sharp, so be careful. If it was a real samurai sword it would be worth thousands, but unfortunately it’s a nineteenth-century—late nineteenth-century at that—copy, from when chinoiserie was all the rage.”
“Okay,” he said. “So which pile is that to go into?”
“You know, it’s a lovely piece, I just hadn’t got around to putting it in the front of the shop. Bring it out to me with the stuff that we could get a good price for at the auction house. And then maybe we’ll stop for a cup of tea and a digestive biscuit,” she said.
It was painful, going through her beloved shop like this. At least having Zach there kept her from dissolving into floods of tears. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. No, she’d said to Zach that this was a new beginning; the shop was taking up too much time and it was too difficult. She was going to try and get a more settled job where she’d be there more for him and Kitty. Especially seeing as later this year, when he moved into the sixth year, he would be starting to prepare for his state exams.
“But you love the shop, Mum,” Zach had said sadly.
“I do, but we have to be realistic, darling. It’s hard to run a shop like Something Old in the modern world,” Tess had said, keeping her voice bright but altering her story somewhat because she realized he didn’t quite believe her.
“I’d kill for some biscuits,” said Zach now.
“Okay, you put on the kettle, I’ll finish up here, and then we’ll have a sit down,” said Tess.
At that moment there was a frantic knocking on the door of the shop. Tess had locked it and put the CLOSED sign on the front. After all, it wasn’t as if anyone was coming in to buy stuff anymore, and it made it easier and safer just to have the door shut.
“Tess, it’s me, Mara,” said a voice, and Tess smiled. Mara had that effect on people. She brought light into every room she entered.
“Coming,” said Tess, and she swung open the door. Then her hands flew to her mouth in astonishment. For there, standing beside Mara, was Suki, looking impossibly glamorous and in danger of bursting into tears at the same time.
“Oh, Tess,” said Suki, throwing out her arms and wrapping them around her sister. “Oh, Tess, I need you, I need you.”
Zach quite liked being alone in the shop. His mother had whisked Suki off home and he’d volunteered to stay and do a bit more stocktaking to give them some time alone together.
“Only thing is, I’m not exactly sure what to do, Mum,” he’d said.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” said his mother. “You’re great, it’ll be fine.” And then she was gone.
It was sort of cool being seventeen; people trusted you, you knew stuff. When he was fourteen, he used to think he knew everything. How dumb was that? Now, now he knew everything. Pixie often said so.
“You’re only saying that,” he’d say with a laugh, but he liked it all the same.
He made himself his cup of tea and gave a couple of biscuits to Silkie, who was sitting with him, begging, slavering for a nibble of a digestive.
“You’ll get fat,” said Zach, as Silkie gobbled down two biscuits. “Nah, you probably won’t, you were born skinny,” Zach decided, petting the dog.
Dogs were great, you could tell them things and they never told anyone else. Like when Mum and Dad had split up, Zach would bring Sil
kie into his room and lie on the bed and hug her and listen to music and tell Silkie that he’d known Mum and Dad weren’t happy for a long time. That he’d been really scared something like this was going to happen and now it had, and all of a sudden the future was this big unknown. Parents never seemed to understand how frightening the unknown was for their kids. They knew what they were doing, they’d made the choices, but what about you? You didn’t get to make any choices even though you were a part of it.
And yet it had sort of worked out, in some strange way. Mum seemed happy without Dad, and Dad was really happy with Claire. Who knew? Grown-ups were crazy. Once they hit thirty, it was all downhill and their minds started to go.
There was another knock on the door, a very firm one this time.
“We’re closed,” Zach shouted.
“I’m looking for Tess Power,” came a deep voice through the door.
“She’s not here,” Zach said.
“Please, may I come in?”
Zach gave Silkie the last of his biscuit, wiped the crumbs off his mouth, got to his feet and ambled over to the door. He unlocked it and pulled it open to see a very tall, well-built man with dark hair and amazing dark eyes staring down at him. Zach was pretty tall himself, the tallest in his class, but this guy, who was, like, old obviously, had a couple of inches on him.
“She’s not here,” Zach said in a more respectful tone, because this man looked like the sort of person that you had to be respectful to.
For a moment the man just stared at him. Then finally he spoke: “You must be Zach.”
“Yeah,” said Zach slowly.
“I’m Cashel Reilly. I was friends with your mother a long time ago.”
“Oh, okay,” said Zach. “My aunt Suki turned up, so Mum’s gone home with her. She’s not going to be back today.”
“Suki’s come home?”
Mr. Reilly sounded very surprised at that.
“Yeah,” said Zach. “You look a bit familiar. Do I know you?”
“I bought Avalon House so I’ve been around a lot lately.”
“Ah,” said Zach in a much less friendly tone. “It used to belong to my family a long time ago.”
“I know,” said Cashel evenly.
“My mum doesn’t talk about it, she never goes there. But I’ve been there, loads of times with my friends,” Zach said, as if daring the man to tell him he’d been trespassing. “When something’s in your family a long time, it’s supposed to be part of you, you know that? So I didn’t think there was a problem with me going up there with my friends or my girlfriend.”
“No,” said Cashel, “there was no problem with you doing that.”
He stared at the boy in fascination. Tess’s son was a tall, strong young guy, with a warm face, eyes like his mother’s, the dark hair of his grandfather and a firm chin that Cashel couldn’t identify. He was polite, charming and had clearly inherited all his mother’s good manners.
“Avalon House will always be open to you, Zach,” he said. “I promise. It is your birthright.”
“Thanks,” said Zach. “You should tell Mum that, because, like, she must want to go up sometimes. Dad—my parents are separated now—Dad says it means a lot to her but it hurts, and that’s why she doesn’t go there.”
“They’ve spilt up, your mum and dad?” Cashel said carefully.
“Yeah, it’s sort of complicated,” Zach said.
“Oh?” said Cashel, in a way that invited more disclosure.
“My dad’s got a new girlfriend and she’s pregnant.”
“That must be hard,” Cashel said.
“No, not really, it’s going to be fine, Mum says it’s going to be fine.”
Cashel nodded. “That sounds like your mum,” he said, “practical.”
“Yeah, she is kind of practical, and she seems to be taking it okay really. Pixie—that’s my girlfriend—Pixie said that if I went off and had a baby with someone else, well, she’d be pretty mad at me. But Mum, she seems fine about it.”
“Listen,” said Cashel, “I do need to see your mum. Could you give me your exact address, because I don’t know it?”
“Sure,” said Zach. “Bet you she’ll be delighted to see you.”
“I hope so,” said Cashel. “Suki will be pleased to see me, that’s for sure.”
Suki was no sooner through the front door than she dumped her bags on the floor and said to her sister, “Where do you keep the drink in this house?”
“Er, in the kitchen,” said Tess.
“Fine.” Suki marched into the kitchen, opened cupboards and stumbled upon the bottles that were rarely touched. She poured herself a giant glass of Scotch. “Do you have any ice?” she said.
“No,” sighed Tess, “this is not a bar.”
“Oh, stop, Tess, please. I love you, and I’m sorry, but I’m stressed. I’ve flown over. I had to get the bus. It’s been awful. I can’t tell you how anxious I am.”
“I know, my love,” said Tess, and she put her arms around her sister.
Suki laid her head against Tess’s shoulder and felt the peace envelop her. It felt good to be home, she’d been running away for so long.
When they parted, Suki opened the fridge, looking for some sort of mixer to take the hit away from the Scotch. Orange juice, that’d do. She only poured a little in because there wasn’t much room left in the glass. “I’m sorry, I know you disapprove, but I don’t do drugs anymore, I have the occasional drink, that’s all.”
“I’m not your mother,” Tess said.
“I know, I know. That’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” said Suki, sinking down into a kitchen chair and suddenly looking her age. “Maybe if we’d had a mother, things would have been different. We would have known about being women, understood it. It wouldn’t have all gone wrong with you and Cashel. It wouldn’t have all gone wrong with me and bloody Kyle Richardson Senior. I might have understood how to handle myself without putting myself on a plate for men.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Tess, sitting down at the table beside her and taking Suki’s hand in hers. She knew all about Kyle Senior and what he’d done. It was definitely his fault, he’d taken advantage of her darling sister, although Suki had always blamed herself, thinking she had handled it all wrong.
If I hadn’t had so much to drink, if I hadn’t been so convinced I could wrap him around my finger . . . she’d say.
“Looking at Zach and Kitty, I can see how children need both parents, if at all possible,” Tess said. “They need so much guidance. Dad was brilliant and he did his best, but he was only one half of the puzzle.”
At that moment, Tess heard the front door opening. “Oh God,” she said to Suki, “it’s Lydia, my babysitter. She picks Kitty up from school, brings her home, gives her a snack and looks after her until I get off work.”
“Coo-ee, I thought I saw you come in!” Kitty ran into the kitchen at high speed. “Mum . . . Oh, Aunt Suki!” she said. Tess thought it was a miracle Kitty recognized Suki, because she’d only been four or five years old the last time she visited. But Kitty had always been fascinated by her glamorous aunt and used to look at her pictures endlessly: holding them up to the mirror, trying to adopt the same poses Suki did in the photos.
“Look at you, you little darling,” said Suki, hauling her on to her lap for a good cuddle. “You have grown. You’re a young lady!”
“I know,” said Kitty, flicking her ponytail in delight.
“Hello, everyone,” said Lydia, hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, dying to be invited in and introduced.
“Lydia,” said Tess, “this is my sister, Suki.”
“It’s lovely to meet you,” said Lydia, coming forward.
Lydia was a wonderful babysitter, but sadly an inveterate gossip. Knowing that news of her sister’s arrival would be all around the village within the hour, Tess was anxious to send her on her way:
“Thank you so much, Lydia,” she said. “I won’t need you to stay today. I came home early be
cause Suki arrived unexpectedly.”
“A flying visit?” Lydia inquired, determined to get as much information as possible before she had to leave.
Luckily, Suki had the whole situation sized up. “Yes,” she said getting to her feet and subtly steering Lydia out of the room, “a flying visit, I don’t have much time. It’s been so wonderful to meet you. It would be lovely to chat but I want to make the most of every precious moment with my darling nephew and niece.”
And before she knew it, Lydia was at the front door, she was stepping outside and bang, the door was shut behind her. What an interesting lady, she thought as she marched down the path, determined to spread the news.
Back in the kitchen, Tess was fixing a snack for her daughter. She tried to signal that they wouldn’t be able to talk now that Kitty was there.
“Big ears. Big ears,” she mouthed at Suki.
Suki nodded, then opened her beautiful leather handbag and took out a makeup case.
“Do you know,” she said to Kitty, “I have some lovely stuff in here. Look at this.” She opened her Bobbi Brown lip palette, a darling thing she’d treated herself to recently, with every lip color one could possibly need inside.
“Oooh,” said Kitty delightedly.
“You should try some of them,” said Suki. “After your snack, maybe you could sit there at the table and have a go. I have some sparkly eye shadows too. Your mum and I are going to run into the living room to have a chat.”
“Stroke of genius!” Tess grinned at her sister.
“Well, I didn’t think she had much experience of makeup,” Suki grinned. “Although, I have to take that back—you’ve certainly improved your look since the last time I was here.”
“Oh, well, I guess I have,” said Tess, reaching up and rubbing her hair self-consciously. Vivienne had very pointedly given her a hairdressing voucher for Christmas and Mara had given her a cosmetics bag containing eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. She’d started wearing these products and found that putting on makeup was one of those skills that you never quite forget. She used to love makeup years ago, trying on Suki’s while she was out. During her marriage, she’d forgotten that. Forgotten the whole concept of making yourself beautiful in front of the mirror in the morning. It had been lost, the way so many things had been lost.
