Making Peace

Home > Other > Making Peace > Page 2
Making Peace Page 2

by Fiona McCallum


  Poor, darling Tristan. Damn, she thought, don’t go there.

  She straightened up, turned and made her way down the hall. Peering into the spare room, she smiled at seeing Beth on the bed, curled on her side, and Holly pressed into a ball against her stomach. Sensing Hannah’s presence, the cat opened her eyes, yawned, stood and stretched. Hannah thought she looked a little sheepish.

  ‘Yes, sprung, you little minx,’ she said to herself, smiling. Seeing Holly made her feel warm and happy. The cat jumped off the bed and came over and rubbed against her leg. ‘Yes, darling little thing, I missed you too,’ she whispered, picking her up and hugging the cat to her chest as Holly nuzzled her chin and began purring loudly.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Beth said, looking up at Hannah with sleepy eyes. She sat up. ‘Did you have fun?’

  ‘I thought you might have gone home.’

  ‘Miss Holly here wouldn’t let me. I think I may have been converted into a cat person.’

  ‘You and me both,’ Hannah said and kissed the cat gently on the head. Holly responded by giving Hannah’s nose a quick lick.

  ‘Do you want to head straight home or would you like a cuppa, Auntie Beth? I’m not tired enough to go to bed yet. And you had better go and check on your kittens, missy,’ she said as she put Holly down on the floor.

  ‘A cuppa would be lovely, dear, thank you,’ Beth said, getting up and giving the bed covers a quick smoothing down. ‘Oh, and happy New Year,’ she said, wrapping an arm around Hannah as they made their way to the kitchen.

  ‘And you,’ Hannah said. ‘I wonder what’s in store for us this time around.’

  ‘Good things,’ Beth said sagely.

  ‘Yes. Only good things.’ Hannah hoped she hadn’t just jinxed the year – or that annoying Nate person, for that matter, had – not that she was all that superstitious. Though, she couldn’t say she didn’t believe in serendipity and kismet – look how she’d rushed home from New York and was there in time to save Holly and her kittens. And she really did have the feeling that Holly had saved her as much as the other way around.

  Hannah thrived on being helpful, it’s what made her so good at her job as executive personal assistant. But after a year of feeling consumed by her grief, being constantly asked how she was and scrutinised by well-meaning friends and colleagues all the time, Hannah loved her life suddenly being consumed by Holly and her kittens. She often shook her head with wonder at how, literally overnight, she’d gone from someone who would never have entertained the thought of having a pet, let alone in the house, to welcoming a cat sleeping on her bed. Not to mention digging the poo out of the litter tray using the little scooper without batting an eye. Once she probably would have gagged.

  ‘I still can’t believe you’re suddenly a cat person,’ Beth said, settling on a stool at the kitchen bench.

  ‘Spooky. I was just having that exact thought.’

  ‘She certainly is a lovely cat. And those two kittens, well … just scrummy,’ said Beth. ‘I’m actually erring towards not getting another dog and becoming a cat lady instead.’

  ‘Really? Do you think you’ll go to the RSPCA to start looking tomorrow – er today, later?’

  ‘No, I’ll wait a bit longer on account of the heat – they’re forecasting a few scorchers. But I’ve definitely decided it’s time to have some furry company again.’

  ‘That’s great.’ Hannah thought she probably should offer Beth one of the kittens, but couldn’t make herself say the words. They were tiny now, but how would it be having three full-sized cats, two boisterous toddlers to keep track of? Cats were untrainable, weren’t they? Oh well, it’ll be entertaining, if nothing else, she silently conceded.

  ‘I’m leaning towards a cat or two at the moment – kittens or adult, I don’t mind. They say animals should choose you, not the other way around, so I think it best to go and see what cats and dogs are on offer at the shelter. Maybe I’ll get one of each. Ah, thank you,’ Beth said as Hannah placed a mug of tea in front of her. ‘So, tell me about this party. I have to say it again, you do look very cute dressed as a cat,’ Beth said, grinning.

  Hannah looked down herself. ‘Oh, I’d forgotten about that. Thanks.’

  ‘The party …?’ Beth prompted after a few moments.

  ‘Well, Sam wasn’t there. She sent a text to say she wouldn’t make it after all.’

  ‘Oh, that’s disappointing. I hope she’s okay?’

  ‘She said she had a headache. I’m a little worried about her. I think she’s worrying too much about the market next week. When we were at uni she’d get stressed about assignments, but nothing like this. I keep telling her how good the things she’s made are – and she’s managed to put together a great variety. She really is very talented. I’m not just saying that.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see her work.’

  ‘She’s suddenly desperate to make a career out of her art and I’m afraid she’s hoping for too much from the market stall and putting too much pressure on herself. It’s a good quality event and well known, but I think the shoppers will be mainly tourists having a wander rather than serious art collectors. She’s always been quite laidback and not so focussed on the money side, but suddenly … Oh, I don’t know …’

  ‘You’re really worried about her, aren’t you? Do you think something’s happened?’

  ‘It’s just a feeling. She hasn’t said anything, but something seems different. Not quite right.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s anxious about the twins starting school this year?’

  ‘Who knows? I just wish she’d talk to me. Once upon a time she would have and we’d have analysed it until the cows came home.’

  ‘If something’s up, she’ll confide in you when she’s ready.’

  ‘Hmm. I can’t help thinking that burying herself in her work is an avoidance tactic, though I know she’s working to get as much stock done for the stall as she can. Oh, I don’t know, Auntie Beth,’ Hannah said with a sigh, ‘I just can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong and I want to help.’

  ‘There are so many stories right throughout history of how complex creative people are and how they’re often plagued with self-doubt. They can suffer exhilarating highs one moment and excruciating lows the next. I guess that’s why you hear of so many talented, clever people turning to drugs and alcohol or becoming reclusive,’ Beth said. ‘Without a creative bone in my body, I really don’t know. At least Sam knows she can rely on you. I am very keen to visit her stall since she’s been so coy about it all.’

  ‘Yes. I’d have been worried she might not have anything to sell if I hadn’t seen for myself. She’s been very productive.’

  ‘Good. I can’t wait. But right now I’d better go and get some sleep,’ Beth said, putting a hand over her mouth as she yawned.

  ‘God, it’s nearly three,’ Hannah said, peering at her watch and beginning to yawn herself. ‘I’m so sorry to keep you up so late.’

  ‘I’m not here against my will, dear. Anyway, I never sleep for more than a few hours at a time these days.’

  ‘What do you have planned for the first day of the year?’

  ‘Edna mentioned a movie or two – it sounds like it’s going to be good weather for sitting in an air-conditioned cinema. How about you?’

  ‘I’m not sure. If I don’t get an invitation to go to the beach with Sam and Rob and the boys I think I’ll try to invite myself over and check if she’s really okay. And see what else needs doing for next weekend.’

  ‘Good idea. Let me know if there’s anything I can help with.’

  ‘Thanks. And thanks again for staying over with the kitties,’ Hannah said, as they made their way to the front door.

  ‘No problem. Any time. I can see why you find them so hard to leave.’

  ‘Yes, well, we’re all going to have to toughen up - I’m back at work in a fortnight. The kittens will probably be climbing the curtains and driving me nuts by then and I’ll be happy to go to the office.’
r />   ‘Oh yes, fun times ahead. Good night. Sleep well,’ Beth said, drawing Hannah into a hug.

  ‘And you.’

  Beth waved as she crossed the street and made her way up the path. Hannah went inside and closed the door on the balmy early morning and sounds of the shrieking crickets and cicadas.

  Chapter Three

  Hannah was surprised to find Sam still in her pyjamas when she opened the door to Hannah at around noon.

  ‘Hi, happy New Year,’ Hannah said.

  ‘And you.’

  Hannah was further surprised when Sam just stood there. Normally they would be enjoying a warm, generous hug.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Yeah, just having a quiet day while Rob and the boys are out.’

  ‘Oh. Would you rather I left you to it?’

  ‘No. God, sorry. Here I am standing here all vacant. Come in,’ Sam said, stepping aside.

  Hannah wrapped her arms around her friend as she entered and was again a little surprised at Sam’s brief, half-hearted hug in return.

  ‘I missed you last night at Caitlin’s,’ Hannah said as she followed Sam down to the kitchen.

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just so tired at the moment. Coffee?’

  ‘Yes, please. Have you been burning the midnight oil in a creative frenzy?’

  ‘Sort of. I’ve got a few more things done.’

  ‘Are you feeling okay about it all?’

  ‘Well, thanks to you we’ll be organised on the day. So, how are the cats, newly crowned cat lady?’

  ‘Good. Oh, Sammy, I love them so much. It’s like there was a big piece of my life missing before and I didn’t even realise it.’ Hannah felt herself grinning widely. She found she smiled whenever she talked about Holly and the kittens.

  ‘That’s great. I’m so pleased for you. Here you go,’ Sam said, putting two mugs on the table before returning to the kitchen and retrieving a plastic container from the bench.

  ‘The boys insisted we make cupcakes yesterday. Don’t worry, it’s a packet mix, so completely edible. But you’ll have to excuse the overzealous use of icing and sprinkles.’

  ‘Very cute.’

  Hannah looked at her friend and tried to stop herself from frowning. Something really was not quite right with Sam. Usually they would have had a barrage of back and forth banter and jokes about the brightly coloured cupcakes until they were in fits of laughter. Instead, Sam was quiet, morose. There were dark circles under her eyes too.

  ‘Yum,’ Hannah said, after unwrapping a cake and taking a bite.

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Is everything okay, Sam?’ Hannah asked, when she’d finished her mouthful and Sam was still just staring at the cakes with her hands wrapped around her mug.

  ‘’Course. Just tired.’

  ‘Why? What’s going on? Anything I can help with?’

  ‘Not really. You know, just the usual – on top of the market stall.’

  ‘Don’t worry too much about it. I know it’ll work out. As you said, we’ve got the logistics sorted. Just as long as you’ve got plenty of pieces to sell, and you had quite a few the other day. Unless you’ve had a creative meltdown and smashed everything?’ She smiled at Sam, hoping she’d take the cue and say something funny. Anything to lighten the awkward mood.

  ‘No, but I am starting to think everything I’ve done is crap.’

  ‘Well, stop it. Right now. What I’ve seen is great. And, no, I’m not just saying that.’

  ‘Tell me about last night. What did you end up going as?’

  ‘A black cat. Remember, I told you? I looked very cute according to Auntie Beth – and Caitlin and everyone else.’

  ‘Did Beth go?’

  ‘No. She stayed at my place and babysat the kitty-pies.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  It was clear Sam’s mind was elsewhere, so Hannah stayed silent and concentrated on her cake and coffee. She didn’t want to talk about the party, anyway, because if she did she’d invariably mention the incident as she was leaving. She was trying to forget it had happened at all. Besides, she was here because she was concerned about Sam.

  Oh, Sammy, what’s wrong?’ Hannah asked silently. I’m your best friend. I might not be able to help, but it couldn’t hurt to tell me. After all you’ve done for me this past year. She was almost on the verge of tears and thought Sam might be too. But she knew Sam; if she didn’t want to talk about something there was no getting it out of her. Sam could be stubborn and proud to a fault, but Hannah was often awed by her discipline and strength.

  ‘So, the boys are off at the beach?’

  ‘Yes. Can you believe Olly and Ethan start school in a few weeks? Where does the time go?’ Sam said.

  ‘No idea. It’s nuts. How are you feeling about it – sad?’ Perhaps that’s it. Hannah felt bad that she didn’t already know how her friend was feeling about this milestone. They’d talked about Hannah’s trip and the upcoming market stall since Hannah had come back from New York, but not this.

  ‘I don’t know, to be honest. I think I’m too busy and tired to really think about it. It might be nice to have some more quiet time to focus on my art, but I’ll probably miss them like crazy and not be able to concentrate – sit here pining and stuffing my face, watching the clock until it’s time to go and collect the little monsters,’ Sam said with a hint of a smile.

  There you are. There’s my friend. ‘I’m sure that feeling will soon wear off and you’ll be able to settle into work.’

  ‘Yeah. God, remember that time I left them sitting in their capsules in the supermarket trolley?’

  ‘You were a new mum, sleep deprived.’

  ‘Exactly. It could easily happen again – I’ll leave the little darlings standing there until I realise there are two less mouths to feed at dinner time.’

  ‘Aren’t you sleeping? Is there something going on?’ Hannah persisted, knowing full well Sam might just snap at her to stop fishing and leave her alone. It was a risk she was prepared to take.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ Sam said, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Though, I’m not sure I know what a good night’s sleep is any more.’

  ‘Well, maybe you’ll feel better once the market is over and done with and has been a huge success.’

  ‘It’s only a market, Hann, imagine what a basket case I’d be if it was a real opportunity.’

  ‘It is a real opportunity, Sam. You never know who’ll wander past. That’s the point.’

  ‘Come on, Hann, it isn’t really. I know it as well as you do. I haven’t completely lost my mind.’

  ‘You still want to do it, don’t you?’

  ‘I’ve committed, Hann, if I don’t do it Tabatha will lose her stall. I couldn’t let her down like that.’

  ‘Maybe we could find someone else to do it.’

  ‘At this late notice? Yeah, right. I’m fine. Sorry I’m being a sad sack. I’m a bit all over the place. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Okay. But it’s only a market stall. It’s not worth putting your health at risk.’

  ‘I know. And thanks. But, seriously, Hann, if I can’t handle that, what hope do I have of carving out a career as an artist?’

  ‘Please don’t doubt yourself. You’re very talented. You just need a gallery to take you on and look after the business side of things.’

  ‘Look, Hann, thanks for coming over, but I’m really tired. I’m going to try and have a nap before the boys get back,’ Sam suddenly said, pushing her mug aside and getting up.

  ‘Oh. Okay. Yes, good idea. I’ll leave you to it,’ Hannah said, shocked, leaping to her feet.

  They hugged at the door, but again it was stilted and a little awkward. Hannah got into her car feeling hurt, frustrated and sad.

  On the drive home Hannah fought back tears and ran through worst-case scenarios of what could be wrong with her friend. Get a grip, Hannah. Whatever it is, it’s Sam’s story. It’s not about me until she chooses to share, she told hersel
f firmly as she waited at the red traffic lights. Please don’t be sick, Sammy, she was saying over and over as she pulled into her driveway.

  Inside she plonked herself on the lounge, and then smiled when Holly hopped up onto her lap and began rubbing against her chest.

  ‘Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes, as my dear mum would say, Holly girl,’ she said and let the tears flow.

  After she’d stopped crying and sat stroking Holly’s fur for a few moments, it struck Hannah that, really, if Sam was seriously ill – with cancer or something – Rob would have told her if Sam couldn’t. Yes, so whatever is going on, it’s not that serious, she concluded. And with that thought she felt much better.

  Chapter Four

  ‘There. It looks great,’ Hannah said, standing back to survey their stall at the Sunday Arts Centre Market at Southbank.

  ‘Yes, it does,’ Jasmine agreed.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Sam said, putting one arm around Hannah and the other around Jasmine. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you both. Fingers crossed these things sell.’

  ‘If they don’t, it won’t be because of the quality,’ Jasmine said. ‘You really are very talented, Sam, and in so many different media. It’s incredible.’

  ‘Yes. And it won’t be because the prices are too high, either,’ Hannah said. ‘I still think you’re selling yourself short.’

  ‘I agree, but Sam is the one who has to be comfortable with the prices,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘Thanks, Jasmine. Hannah’s been giving me a hard time. I just don’t want to seem too full of myself.’

  ‘I don’t think you could ever seem like that, but I do understand where you’re coming from,’ Jasmine said.

  Lined up were some gorgeous whimsical ceramic female figurines, all white but with one brightly coloured accessory – a hat, scarf, pair of gloves, an umbrella or parasol. Hannah had been stunned to see the little figures when Sam unpacked them and carefully placed them on the table.

  ‘You didn’t show me these! They’re incredible!’ she cried.

 

‹ Prev