The J M Barrie Ladies' Swimming Society

by Barbara Zitwer

  Lily rolled her eyes and sighed in annoyance. “He could have looked it up. It’s public knowledge. You could have, too.”

  “So he didn’t know.”

  “I have no idea what he knows or doesn’t know,” Lily answered defensively. “Come on, Joey! I’m not a baby.”

  Joey sat back, took a deep breath and thought for a moment. Fine, they would stay and see the play and later, say as little as possible about it to Ian. If he found out and was angry, Joey would just have to deal with it as best she could. In Joey’s opinion, a little nudity on stage wasn’t going to scar Lily for life. Joey would show Lily just how fair and open-minded she could be.

  But on one subject, she wasn’t open-minded at all.

  “Okay,” Joey said. “All in the name of art.” She turned to Lily and gave her a forceful, direct gaze. “But I expect a truthful answer to a question I’m about to ask you.”

  “What?”

  “Were you smoking today?”

  Lily looked away.

  “Lily?”

  Lily nodded.

  “Where’d you get the cigarettes?”

  “I had them.”

  “You brought them? From home?”

  Lily nodded sheepishly.

  “So I’m assuming this isn’t your first time?”

  “Loads of people do it. Half my class…”

  “Well, I’m not interested in ‘loads of people’, Lily. I’m interested in you, and I beg you not to take up a habit that you will spend the rest of your life trying to break. Hand them over. Come on…”

  “What? Why?” Lily wailed. “They’re mine.”

  “Hand them over. Right now.” Joey was surprised by the firm tone of her own voice. When Lily didn’t immediately comply, Joey went on.

  “I mean it, Lily. Give me the cigarettes or we’ll leave. We’ll skip the play and head home.”

  The house lights were going down as Lily fished the crumpled packet out of her bag and handed it to Joey.

  “You’re too smart for this, Lily. I’m not cool with fifteen-year-olds smoking. Not cool with it at all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lily whispered.

  “Don’t try it again,” Joey said, flexing a maternal muscle she barely knew she had. “Smoking is a really, really stupid thing to do.”

  Chapter 15

  “Off to bed with you now,” Ian finally said. “It’s very late and I don’t want be hearing that you’re too tired to go to school in the morning. Not after I let you bunk off today.”

  They were sitting in Ian’s kitchen. Joey and Lily had no sooner got off the train and into Ian’s warm van than Lily had announced that she was starving. This was not unreasonable. The last thing she and Joey had eaten was gelato at tea time, and it had been after midnight when the train pulled into the station at Cheltenham.

  “Didn’t you feed her?” Ian had asked, as he steered the van out of the car park and onto the road.

  “Of course I did!” Joey exclaimed. “But we were trying to make the ten o’clock train and we didn’t have time to stop for –”

  “Joey!” Lily said.

  “I thought we could get a sandwich on the –”

  “Joey!” Lily snapped, cutting her off abruptly.

  Joey glanced at Lily, who was seated between her and Ian.

  “He was kidding,” Lily said calmly.

  And sure enough, there was a wry grin on Ian’s face.

  “Got your knickers in a bit of a twist there,” he said dryly. “Anyway, what else is new? She’s always starving.”

  “I am not!” Lily cried.

  “I’ve never seen a girl put away the quantity of food that –”

  “Daddy!”

  “It’s a wonder I don’t have to haul you over to the school in a wheelbarrow!”

  It was true, Joey thought, when they had got back to the house, Lily certainly had a carefree appetite. As Tink, who Joey had left with Ian that morning, dosed contentedly by the kitchen stove, more at home in this space, it seemed, than in the apartment she was occupying, Joey tried not to stare as Lily wolfed down several pieces of buttered toast along with camomile tea with spoonfuls of honey, then a banana, then two plums, more tea, more honey. It was kind of wonderful to see an adolescent girl eat freely and even greedily. To hear people talk about it back in the States, girls of Lily’s age were already hardened veterans of the diet wars.

  Joey sipped wine, listening to Lily recount every twist and turn of the play’s plot. She wisely steered clear of any mention of the nudity in the play, focusing on how great the costumes and sets were. Lily had spent much of her morning, before she’d had to make the emergency run to Boots, at the museum’s fashion exhibit. It made Joey feel incredibly ancient to have to explain to Lily who Grace Kelly and Jackie Kennedy were.

  “Anything else you’ve forgotten to mention?” Joey prodded as Lily carried her dishes to the sink.

  “Nope,” Lily said studiedly.

  “No?” Joey goaded.

  Ian glanced at Joey; he could tell she was alluding to something specific. He peered at his daughter curiously.

  Lily shook her head. “Thanks for a great day, Joey. I had a wonderful time.”

  “Me too,” Joey said. “We’ll do it again.”

  “Can Tink stay here tonight?”

  Tink, hearing her name mentioned, roused herself and looked up sleepily.

  “Sure,” Joey said, “if you want.”

  “Tink!” Joey called brightly. “Tink, come!”

  Tink was on her feet in an instant.

  Lily hugged them both then headed for the stairs. “Come on, Tink! Come with me!”

  Tink bounded over to the staircase and began the climb, without so much as a backward glance.

  “If I think of – anything we forgot to – mention,” Joey called after them, “should I –?”

  “Sure,” Lily said, racing up the staircase. They heard the slam of her bedroom door.

  Joey took a sip of her wine.

  “What was that all about?” Ian asked.

  Joey sighed. “She had kind of a big day.”

  Ian cocked his head. If he was supposed to compre-hend what Joey was being so elliptical about, he wasn’t getting it.

  “Today,” Joey said quietly, then paused. She felt suddenly very gauche before this man she hardly knew. She had always despised the use of the word “period” to describe that portion of the female cycle. It was such a brusque and ugly word for something so organic and full of purpose. But how better to put it?

  “Your little girl became a woman,” she said finally – this phrase, too, sounding like something you’d encounter in a film made for school sexual health classes.

  “Oh my God!” Ian said, looking suddenly stricken. “Really?”

  Joey nodded.

  “Is she all right? Is she –?”

  “She’s fine. We had a bit of drama, but we got everything sorted out.”

  “Drama?” he asked.

  “It happened while I was at the meeting. She didn’t have anything with her.”

  “Oh, no! I should have – I just never –”

  “What were the odds?” Joey asked quietly.

  Ian got up and began to pace. He seemed to be having a hard time processing this information.

  “If you ask me,” Joey said, “I don’t think it was completely accidental.”

  Ian paused and fixed her with a questioning look.

  “I’m not saying it was under her conscious control, but maybe something in her subconscious felt free to – let go. Maybe it was easier for her this way.”

  “Because she was with you?”

  “No no. Not me, necessarily. Just – another woman.”

  At this, Ian looked up sharply.

  “Ian, listen, I wasn’t criticising, I just – you’re a fantastic father! And she’s an amazing girl.”

  Ian responded with a wounded nod. “And she likes you. I can see that. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I –”

 
; Joey stood up, and moved toward Ian. In her wildest imagination, it would never have occurred to her when she walked through his door an hour earlier that it would feel completely natural and imperative that she kiss Ian with every bit of love and tenderness she possessed. But this is what she now did.

  Ian relaxed into her embrace, kissing her back with rough, deep, pent-up feeling. Their coming together felt inevitable.

  “Come back with me,” she whispered.

  “Back where?”

  “Stanway House.”

  He shook his head.

  “Please,” she pressed, kissing him again, putting her hand at the small of his back and drawing him toward her. She pulled him to his feet and kissed him again. As he felt the pressure of her hips, he gasped. He kissed her more deeply, with more force and urgency.

  “There’s no one over there,” Joey murmured.

  Ian glanced toward the stairs, as though fearing that at any moment Lily would appear on the landing and find them entwined.

  He took a deep breath. “I haven’t been – with any one. Since Cait.”

  “I know.”

  Pain seemed to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “How do you know?”

  “I don’t, not really. I just assumed.”

  “Because of how I –?”

  “No!”

  He shook his head desolately. “I can’t,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not right. It’s not fair.”

  “To whom?”

  Ian shook his head. He couldn’t speak.

  “To Cait?” Joey asked. “Ian, surely…”

  She knew she was treading on dangerous ground. “You think this is what Cait would want? For you to be alone for the rest of your life? For you to be unhappy, and for that unhappiness to hang over your home, your child’s home, her child’s home?”

  Desperation was in his eyes when he gazed at her, and she met that gaze with another kiss. This time it was a gentle kiss. When they finally drew apart, Ian extinguished the lamp on the kitchen table, took Joey by the hand, and led her across the living room to the front door. Something had changed. She wasn’t sure how exactly it had happened, or even why – was he saying yes out of need, anger, dawning affection? But she knew that for reasons she might never fully understand, Ian had made up his mind. He was going to come back to Stanway House with her.

  “Hold on,” he said, tiptoeing up the staircase. He was back in a minute with a bundle of duvets and pillows.

  “What’s that for?” Joey asked.

  “I’m not going up to that depressing apartment.”

  Joey smiled as they opened the front door, closed it silently behind them and tried to cross the gravel as quietly as possible.

  The next three hours, until Ian kissed her one last time and went back to the gatehouse at four am, were among the most precious and delicious that Joey had ever experienced. They carried the bedding into the huge entrance hall of the house. There was a vast stone hearth on one side of the space, and just next to it a little recess in the wall which once must have provided a warming seat for visitors and new arrivals. They lay down there, bathed in the glow of the fire, and were soon entangled in the soft, worn duvets, their teasing kisses alternately fierce and tender.

  Time slipped away. Was it three o’clock? Five o’clock? Had this closeness, this giddiness, this pure joy been going on for minutes? Hours? Joey had no way of telling. She was suspended in one glorious, ardent, blazing now, and more than anything she had ever wanted in her life, she wanted this not to end, not ever. Never in her life had she abandoned herself so completely to the essence and movements of another human being.

  And then, it was over. They had been dozing by the embers, and Ian gently detached himself from her embrace, wrapping her up against the air.

  “I’ll go now,” he whispered decisively.

  She didn’t protest. He needed to go, and she felt that.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

  “It is morning,” he said, pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.

  Chapter 16

  At about six o’clock, Joey gathered up the duvets and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She flopped down on her back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, where the paint had cracked into a map of tiny roads and byways, crisscrossing the expanse of yellowed plaster. Had it really been only twenty-four hours since Lily had pounded on her door, anxious for Joey to sanction the questionable outfit?

  Lily! Tink! She had to get Tink! Joey sat upright, glad for a legitimate reason to cross the gravel to the gatehouse. Lily would be leaving for school before long, and Ian had been nice enough to take care of Tink so that they could make their trip to London. But Ian and Massimo had a full day of inspections planned, tedious and time-consuming assessments of the foundations, supporting walls and masonry of each and every building on the grounds. Joey really had to relieve Ian of the responsibility of the dog.

  She stepped into the bathroom, turned on the light, and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were bright pink, partly due to the roughness of Ian’s beard, her lips plump and nearly crimson. She looked as fresh and vital as if she had just stepped off a ski slope.

  She debated taking a quick shower and decided against it. She loved the smell of Ian on her skin, her hands, her hair, and she wanted to inhabit that glorious, redolent cloud for as long as she could.

  She pulled on her jeans, and a thick wool sweater. She brushed her teeth, stepped into her boots and dabbed on a little lip gloss. Giving her reflection a final once-over in the mirror, she smiled. What was happening to her? Was she actually going to greet her new lover without carefully applying make-up and coordinating all her clothes to deliver just the right impression? She’d barely even registered the fact that her jeans were a little tight. No surprise, really, given the copious amounts of wine she had been drinking and her gradual forsaking of every single one of the eating habits that had kept her slender for twenty years. A leaf of lettuce hadn’t crossed her plate in nearly a week.

  Oh well, she thought. A few more nights like last night, and a pound or five didn’t stand a chance in the world.

  Lily answered the door and gave Joey a spontaneous hug.

  “How you feeling?” Joey whispered.

  “Lousy,” Lily replied. “Did you tell him?”

  Joey nodded. Lily covered her eyes.

  “What did he say?” Lily finally asked, peeking out from behind her fingers.

  “Oh, you know your dad. Kind of the strong, silent type.”

  They were interrupted by Tink bounding across the room and jumping up on Joey. She rarely did this these days, and it signalled to Joey that Tink must really have missed her. This dog had such an uncanny sixth sense. Did she know something?

  “Good morning,” Joey said quietly.

  Ian was standing at the stove, tending to a skillet of eggs and some kind of pork or bacon.

  He turned and smiled warmly. “Good morning. Care for coffee?”

  “I’d kill for coffee.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Ian said, reaching for a mug from one of the open shelves and pouring the fragrant amber liquid from a thermos on the counter. He handed it to Joey. Their fingers touched, and then their eyes met. Joey winked. He winked back.

  “And for some of whatever it is you’ve got going there,” she said, pouring cream into her coffee and nodding toward the stove. “I’m really hungry.”

  “Coming up,” said Ian, not rising to the bait.

  They lingered at the table for close to half an hour, until it was time for Ian to drive Lily to school.

  “What time’s Massimo coming?” Joey asked.

  He and Ian had spent the day together while Joey and Lily were in London, creating a master schedule for all phases of the reconstruction. Joey was going to be spared today’s inquiry into the intimacies of the aged substructure. She was glad they didn’t need her for this, as she had several important repo
rts to submit to the folks back in New York and at least two dozen phone calls to make.

  “Eight forty-five,” Ian said, as Lily headed across the room to gather up her books.

  Lily looked from Joey to her father, who had quickly got up and was carrying dishes to the sink. She glanced back at Joey with a puzzled stare. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing! Really!” But Joey couldn’t keep from smiling. She looked down at her plate.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Ian said brusquely.

  At about four o’clock, Joey decided to walk into the village with Tink to mail some documents at the post office. At least that was the official reason for the walk. The unofficial reasons were many: she was restless, she was sick of being inside, and Tink was driving her crazy, hopping to her feet every time Joey got up, staring at her sadly with moony eyes. Joey had almost nothing with which to make dinner, no wine, and no coffee for the morning. Secretly, she also hoped that if she poked her head out into the world, she might just happen to run into Ian and Massimo. But she didn’t, and she didn’t hear voices from the gatehouse as they passed. The house was closed up tight and Ian’s van was gone.

  Walking the mile and a half into the village, Joey admired the rosy streaks in the midwinter sky. She just made it to the post office before they closed, and when she stepped back out onto the pavement, she saw Aggie coming out of the bakery across the street.

  “Aggie!” she called.

  Aggie looked up and waved. Joey manoeuvered Tink through the cars parked at both kerbs, stepped up onto the pavement and gave Aggie a hug.

  “Those look yummy,” Joey said, admiring two crusty baguettes sticking out of brown paper sleeves.

  “They are,” Aggie replied. “You should get one.”

  “I should.”

  “Go in right now,” Aggie suggested. “They only have a few left. I’ll watch her.”

  “Thanks!” Joey handed Aggie Tink’s leash, stepped inside and made a dash for the bread shelves. She stepped back out and reclaimed Tink.

  “Well, there’s a start,” she said brightly.

  Aggie gave her a puzzled look.