“Oh, please!” Freya looked up at her, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “I’m as fine as I can be. I’m just not fine enough for him.”
Arthur scooped an enormous portion of food onto his fork and swallowed it. This was not how he’d intended the evening to turn out. He hated seeing a woman upset and Freya was clearly very upset. He hoped that she wouldn’t cry because he truly couldn’t cope with them when they cried, but he wasn’t certain that she’d be able to keep the tears at bay. And as he watched her, a single tear tumbled from her eye and rolled down her cheek.
“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Maude.
“I can’t.” Freya gasped. “I really can’t.”
“If it’s a problem, maybe I can help.” Maude gestured. “Not that I was ever much help with my own daughters, but you never know.”
Freya said nothing.
“Your parents died, didn’t they?” Maude continued. “I’m sure you did really well on your own, but it’s nice to have someone to share things with from time to time.”
“I really don’t need to share this,” said Freya. She glanced at Arthur, who was eating as though someone would take the plate away from him at any time.
“You remind me of Carey,” said Maude. “Determined to do your own thing even if it means making a mistake. Determined not to admit that you might need help.”
“She’s like that?” Freya wiped her hand over her cheek.
“Absolutely,” said Maude. “Thinks she can work it all out by herself, but of course she can’t. She’s being really offhand about the break-up of her marriage to your brother, but I know she was devastated.”
“Was she?” Freya was genuinely surprised. “I got the impression that she was annoyed at first but that she’d almost expected it to go wrong. And, well, I kind of heard that she might have someone else too.”
“You got that impression from him, I suppose,” said Arthur, unable to stay silent at what he thought could be a slur on Carey.
“Sort of,” said Freya. “Ben wouldn’t talk about it much. He said that they were both complete fools and that it was doomed from the start. And that there was someone else in her life anyway.” She looked apologetically at the two older people.
“D’you blame her for telling him that?” asked Arthur hotly.
“I suppose not.” Freya sighed. “I love my brother, but I’m not sure that he’s that good with women.”
Maude smiled at her. “Carey’s not that good with men either. Perhaps they were both to blame.”
“Perhaps.”
“But neither of them have anything to do with why you’re so unhappy.”
“It’s really nice of you to take an interest, Mrs. Browne…”
“Maude,” she interrupted.
“Yes. Well. Maude. It’s nice of you to ask, but it’s a private matter.”
“Of course,” said Maude, “I understand. But if you’d like to talk to me, you can phone me any time.”
Freya looked at her in puzzlement. “Why? I’m nothing to you,” she said.
“At the moment you’re still connected to me by marriage.” Maude grinned and Freya suddenly realized that she’d probably been a very beautiful woman when she was younger. There was a sparkle in her dark eyes that held the promise of mischief and more. “I keep telling Carey that she needs to sort things out legally, but — like I said — she pretends to herself that they’ll sort themselves out without her ever having to do anything. I haven’t pushed her yet because I think she needs a bit of time. I will eventually, and she’ll hate me for it. But not yet.”
“I doubt that anyone could hate you,” said Freya.
“You’d be surprised.” Maude grinned again. “I remember when my elder daughter, Sylvia, was about sixteen and going out with the most unsuitable boy. I wouldn’t let her go away for a weekend with him and a group of friends. She yelled at me that she hated me then. And I’m sure she did.”
“I talked to Sylvia on the night of the party,” said Freya. “I liked her.”
“Sylvia’s very likeable,” said Maude. “We all are. Even Carey.”
“I’m sure.”
“Anyway,” she told Freya, “if you do feel like getting something off your chest at any time, ring me. It’s not as if I have so much else to do that I don’t have the time. And Arthur insists that I’m an old busybody anyway.”
“I never said that,” said Arthur.
“You think it sometimes.” Maude looked fondly at him.
Freya drank the vodka shot and stood up. “Perhaps I will phone some time,” she said. “You never know.”
“It’d be lovely to hear from you,” said Maude.
“It was nice meeting you again,” Freya told her, “though I wouldn’t have dreamed that it would be.”
“Take care of yourself,” said Maude.
“Thanks.” Freya smiled faintly at her and at Arthur, and walked out of the restaurant.
Maude dug her fork into her buglama and said nothing. Arthur had almost finished his food. “You’re an interfering old woman,” he said eventually.
“She’s very unhappy,” Maude told him.
“It’s none of your business. And if Carey knew…”
“This has nothing to do with Carey,” said Maude.
“You’re not trying to win the boy back through the sister?”
“No!” Maude looked shocked. “No,” she repeated. “I liked Freya the night we first met her. She does remind me a little of Carey, but she reminds me more of me.”
“She’s nothing like you.” Arthur looked at his wife in bewilderment.
“It’s a woman thing,” said Maude. “Trust me.”
“Oh God.” Arthur groaned. “I hate it when you say that. I really do.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
YLANG-YLANG
A well-known soothing oil with an exotic fragrance
Some of the reporters who’d covered the story of the Jeep plowing into Herbal Matters were there to cover the re-opening. Ben, Freya, and the shopfitters had worked really hard to get everything done and the paint was still a little tacky when they opened the doors at noon on Monday, but they were finally back in business. The shop looked wonderful with its new displays, better lighting, and additional stock. Mike and Des, the two men in the Jeep, had turned up too, despite the fact that Des’s right arm was still in plaster. The reporters joked that maybe Ben could treat him with some kind of herbal remedy, and Ben, beaming broadly at the marketing opportunity, presented the brothers with two baskets which he’d already made up containing a variety of different potions. Including arnica for bruises, he told them, and Hypercal cream for the cuts. Photographers snapped away happily as the men shook hands and a small knot of customers applauded. Then the reporters drifted off to file their stories while Susie, the sales assistant, had one of her busiest days in ages.
Later in the afternoon Ben and Freya opened the pile of cards that had come from well-wishers, from other local stores, from their friends, and even from people they’d never met before. Ben was astonished to realize that there was still a community spirit in existence, that others were genuinely sympathetic to the accident and full of praise for his promptness in administering first aid to Mike.
“It’s your fifteen minutes of fame,” Freya told him as she opened yet another card. “Better lap it up while you can.”
“I don’t want the fame for me,” said Ben, “but I sure as hell want the publicity for the shop. D’you know both Tallaght and Drumcondra have seen increased sales since the accident?”
“Yes.” Freya laughed at him. “If you recall, it was me who printed out the report.”
“I know, I know. Sorry.” He opened another card and grinned. “From Phil and the blokes on the footie team.”
“That probably means more to you than any of the others.”
“Probably.”
Freya slid her finger under the flap of the last envelope and drew out the card. She opened her eyes wide when she read it.
&
nbsp; “Who’s it from?” asked Ben.
“Um — Carey,” said Freya baldly.
“Give it to me.” Ben held out his hand and Freya handed him the card. “Best wishes on your re-opening,” it said. “Carey.”
“That was nice of her,” he said carefully.
“Why did she bother?” asked Freya. “Is she looking for something?”
“Why should she be looking for anything?”
“Maybe she’s decided that she’s going to sue you for maintenance or something.”
“Hardly,” said Ben. “She wouldn’t get very far. Besides, she’s not like that.”
“She’s not your best friend either,” remarked Freya as she threw the envelope into their recycling bin.
“No. But I’d like to think that she might be a friend.”
“I beg your pardon?” Freya stared at him. “Are you joking?”
“Well, maybe not exactly a friend,” admitted Ben. “But not an enemy either.”
“I thought the last time you spoke to her, one of her manic house-mates grabbed the phone and told you to fuck off,” said Freya. “I wouldn’t call that the hand of friendship.”
“I’ve seen her since then,” he said defensively, “and we’ve patched things up.”
“You’ve seen her? And patched things up!” Freya’s voice rose an octave. “What d’you mean ‘patched things up’?”
“Not that kind of patching,” said Ben hastily. “We’ve just agreed that, you know, it was all very silly and we were fools and life goes on.”
“So when was this friendly meeting?” demanded Freya.
“I met her in Habitat.”
“Habitat?”
“Yes,” he said. “I was meeting…I was meeting Leah for brunch and I had some time and I was thinking of buying some new furniture for the house so I went into Habitat and there she was.”
“You never said anything to me about it.”
“What did you want me to say?” he asked. “We spoke, we were polite, that was it.”
“What was she doing in Habitat?”
“What d’you think?” Ben looked at his sister impatiently. “She was buying furniture and stuff too.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s bought a new apartment.” He laughed. “Though she bought it furnished and then went out and bought a second sofa.”
“Ben, that girl is a complete nutter,” said Freya.
“No, she’s not. Just a bit impulsive. So I’m taking the extra sofa from her.”
Freya stared at him. “Why?”
“Because that’s what I was looking for myself. I wanted to buy it, but she’s giving it to me as a divorce present.”
“I’m bewildered,” said Freya. “I thought I understood you, but I just don’t.”
“And I thought you’d be pleased,” said Ben, “that I’ve managed to get through a difficult situation and come out on top.”
“You think taking her unwanted furniture is coming out on top?” asked Freya.
“From where things were a few weeks ago, probably.” Ben grinned at her and Freya couldn’t help laughing. “Anyway, where’s Brian?” Ben had had enough of talking about his meeting with Carey. “I thought he was coming along today.”
“No,” said Freya.
“Busy?”
“No,” said Freya again.
“What then?”
“OK, don’t freak out on me,” she said, “but me and Brian have split up.”
It was Ben’s turn to open his eyes wide in surprise. “You’ve what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But you were engaged!”
“No,” she corrected him. “We were going to get married. We changed our minds.”
“When?”
“Recently.”
“Freya, I don’t believe this. I thought —”
“Listen,” she said. “I thought the wrong things about you and Leah, and, apparently, about you and Carey too. So don’t tell me what you thought, Ben Russell, because I just don’t want to hear it.”
“OK, OK,” he said quickly. He looked at her with concern in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Perfectly,” she assured him. “There were reasons and good reasons, but they’re personal.”
“God Almighty,” said Ben. “You didn’t discover that he had a criminal past or anything, did you?”
“You have a totally over-active imagination, you know that?” said Freya. “Of course not. Now can we please drop the subject?”
“One more question.”
“What?”
“Did you dump him for another man?”
“I haven’t quite managed to rack up your conquests of the opposite sex,” said Freya tartly. “No other man, nothing like that. Just personal. Now forget it.”
“Sure, sure,” said Ben. “I’ve forgotten it. For now.”
They were closing the shop for the night when Leah arrived wearing a new wool coat with a red fake-fur collar, a black beret sitting jauntily on her head.
“It’s starting to rain,” she informed them as she pushed the door open. “Oh, my goodness, this looks wonderful.”
“Glad you like it,” said Ben.
“I wish I’d been here for the actual re-opening. Did the newspapers come?”
He nodded. “Though we’ll probably be bumped out of the pages by a cocaine-snorting celebrity who’s had her boobs reduced or something.”
“I hope not,” said Leah. She kissed Ben on the cheek. “I met Karen and Juliette just before I came here. We’re signing the lease at the end of the week.”
“Great,” he said.
“Lease?” Freya looked at her enquiringly.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Leah. “Meanwhile I’m taking this man out to dinner.”
“You are?” asked Ben.
“Absolutely,” Leah told him. “I’ve booked a table in that new place in Ranelagh.”
“I hadn’t —”
“You’ve been working like a maniac,” she told him. “It’s your night off.”
“Go on, Ben,” said Freya. “I’ll lock up.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Certain.”
“You wouldn’t like to come too, would you? I don’t like to think —”
“Ben, just go,” said Freya impatiently. “I’m fine. I’ve stuff to do at home. I don’t want to go out tonight, honestly.”
“OK.” He couldn’t quite keep the reluctance out of his voice.
“Come on,” said Leah. “We’re doubly celebrating, Ben. You and your place. Me and mine.”
“True.” He smiled while Freya shot him a puzzled look. “See you later,” he told her.
Freya liked being in the Rathmines shop on her own. Although she enjoyed visiting both the Tallaght and Drumcondra stores too, this was their start-up shop and the one with which she identified the most. And while she’d been totally horrified at the idea of having to completely refurbish the place, she had to admit that it had worked out well in the end. The displays were less cluttered, the lights were brighter, the stock more inviting. Regardless of anything else that goes on in my life, she thought as she ran a cloth over the glass-topped counter, this is something that I achieved for myself. And even though Ben was with me, I could’ve done it without him. Maybe I wouldn’t have expanded to the same extent, but this would have been a success anyway. I would’ve made it a success. I wouldn’t have been a failure.
She sprayed more glass cleaner on the counter. Just because there’s one little thing that I can’t do it doesn’t mean to say that I’m useless, she told herself as she rubbed at a nonexistent stain. She folded the yellow cloth and closed her eyes. She couldn’t pretend that being a woman and unable to have a baby wasn’t useless. It was like being a computer with no software, a perfume with no scent. Brian had been right to walk out of Oleg’s and out of her life. If they’d married, the day would have come when he’d resent her uselessness in the baby department
and he’d think of all the other women he could have married instead. Women who weren’t reproductive failures. And perhaps he would eventually have left her and found someone else. Someone who hadn’t been stupid enough to leave having a kid until it was far too late. Someone who’d already realized what her primary purpose on earth was. Not spending years in the boring trade department of a boring bank. Not building up a chain of damned herbal shops. Just having babies. Like women were supposed to do.
It wasn’t fair, she thought miserably. She’d had it all mapped out, all planned, and everything had turned upside down. She wished that she could turn back the clock. If she’d known a few months ago that the baby issue would suddenly become so important, if she’d known then what she knew now, maybe she could have talked to Brian about it. Maybe they could have tried for a baby then. Only maybe he wouldn’t have wanted one a few months ago. She rubbed the back of her neck. Why was life so bloody complicated? Why didn’t people love each other at the same time, want babies together at the same time, want the same things at the same time? And why did you never realize the value of what you had until one day you found out that it was gone?
Leah opened the door to her apartment and stepped inside, followed by Ben. She slid out of the dark wool coat and removed her beret, shaking her river of black hair so that it shimmered across her shoulders.
“Coffee?” she asked. “Or a drink?”
“Coffee,” said Ben, although he’d made a promise to himself to cut back on it. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately and he knew that his increased intake of caffeine over the past few weeks was probably to blame.
“Java or Colombian?”
“I don’t care.”
“I thought you were fussy about coffee.”
“Only when I’m making it,” he said.
Leah went into the kitchen and Ben flopped onto her squashy sofa. The last time he’d been in this apartment had been the day before he’d gone to New York. It made him dizzy to think that his life had taken a different road since then and yet he’d ended up here all over again. And he wondered, uneasily, whether or not he’d spend tonight with Leah lying on her exquisite cream silk sheets with her equally exquisite body wrapped around him. Was being together their destiny, like she sometimes said? He’d thought so too once. Maybe he’d been a fool ever to leave her. Women were better at these things than men.
Too Good to Be True Page 34
