by Lucy Coleman
He sighs, lapsing into silence, and I say nothing. It’s calming, and a little time passes while he sits staring down into the mug in front of him.
‘Reid, there really is no need for you to feel you have to explain your actions. I’m just glad that Ana is safe.’
‘Please, Seren, I need you to understand what’s going on because you matter to me. Beatriz is using our daughter as a pawn between us and it sickens me. Our divorce was acrimonious, but the family ties will remain forever, so it’s something that needs handling. But it’s as if Beatriz is trying to punish me by turning Ana against me, insinuating I don’t care that she’s unhappy. Now it’s backfired on her because she’s gone too far, and her family agree. They’ve been extremely supportive these last few days.’ I can see he’s relieved about that at least.
‘If you continue a dialogue with Ana, hopefully you’ll be able to find a solution that works for everyone.’
‘Well, at least Ana is now aware that I never stopped caring. Tonight’s party was important, and everyone will wonder why I wasn’t there, but putting her first made her realise I will always drop everything if she needs me. It’s taken her two years to settle down after Beatriz insisted that they move to Porto. It was the third big move in Ana’s life and although she still misses the friends she made here, it would interrupt her studies too much to change schools again now if they returned to Lisbon. At least that’s something on which both Beatriz and I are agreed. But I will encourage Ana to come here for weekends and during the holidays.’
Just Ana, I wonder, or Ana and Beatriz? Whatever Beatriz has to say about him, she can’t dispute his love for his daughter. But if she’s looking for a way to ease herself back into Reid’s life on a daily basis, would she consider putting her daughter’s best interests second to her own?
‘It sounds like you are moving forward positively, Reid. It isn’t all your fault, though,’ I reply, trying to comfort him.
‘I know. Beatriz has her own agenda, too, and she is good at extracting information from the people around me. I don’t think she regrets the divorce, but she feels it’s her right to keep an eye, not only on her share of Casa da Floresta, but on our daughter’s inheritance. That’s the excuse she uses to keep meddling in my affairs, despite the divorce settlement. She no longer has any financial interest in the London property, or any of my other assets, but it is still all about money. The problem is that there’s no way I can raise half the value of the place and I can’t sell it. It cost way too much to build and it’s too big a hit to take. When I finally get to realise my dream, as an art school and a gallery, it would fulfil its potential and bring it to life. Until that happens it’s simply another drain on my finances.’
‘That’s a tough situation to find yourself in. But you still have a life to lead in the meantime, Reid, and everyone is entitled to their privacy.’
‘Beatriz is trying to back me into a corner before it’s too late and that’s what triggered this incident.’
‘Too late for what?’ I ask. Now I’m confused.
‘You’re an intelligent and beautiful young woman, Seren. You might not be aware of it, but your presence has caused a stir. Beatriz perceives you as a threat.’
Now I understand the icy cold look behind those eyes of hers.
‘Oh, Reid. If she knew…’ I feel sick to my stomach.
‘And if she knew how I felt about you, she could make both of our lives unbearable if she had a mind to. Beatriz isn’t above portraying someone in a bad light if it suits her. That’s why I’m here now to apologise for my stupidity. I had no right to drag you into this because I couldn’t help myself and that’s pathetic. She won’t target me, because financially that would affect her and Ana’s future, but she has Filipe’s ear as the two families have had a close relationship for many years. It’s something she nurtures whenever it suits her interests.’
Is Reid trying to imply that my career – and my life in Lisbon – could be over if Beatriz sets her mind to it? And if things turned nasty, it could set back any progress he’s making with Ana. Tonight, Beatriz made it crystal clear to everyone that she still sees herself as a big part of Reid’s career, if not his life. How that fits in with his own plans, I have no idea.
It’s heart-breaking. Reid and I aren’t doing anything wrong. We can’t ignore this connection we feel and why shouldn’t we be allowed to explore it? My eyes fill with tears that I’m unable to hide. It’s not fair and it’s not right.
‘Now I’ve upset you and that wasn’t my intention at all. I’m just steeling myself for what comes next. I know that when I get back home, I’ll probably say something I’ll live to regret.’ He lets out the deepest of sighs, as he reaches out to touch my hand for a few moments.
‘Then stay here, with me, tonight. Things will look brighter in the morning after a few hours’ rest.’
Reid stands, reaching out his hand to draw me up out of my chair, holding me close to him. After several minutes, we head into the bedroom and lie in each other’s arms, until exhaustion allows an uneasy sleep to claim us both. It’s enough to reassure me that what we feel is honest and it’s real. Despite what’s going on around us, we have this innate trust in each other and that’s something I’m experiencing with someone for the first time. It means I’m letting down my guard and I don’t quite know how I feel about that.
10
A New Day Dawns
I wake early, disturbed by the birds, but reluctant to move as Reid is sleeping peacefully after a fitful night. Are all divorces this messy? I wonder. Money doesn’t solve problems, I reflect, it creates them.
At just after six a.m. I turn over to look at Reid, knowing he’ll begin to stir when he feels the movement next to him.
Slowly, he opens his eyes and blinks rapidly for a second as he stares at me uncomprehendingly. Then he smiles in the tenderest of moments. We look at each other mesmerised, before everything comes flooding back.
‘Good morning,’ he mutters, softly, reaching out to touch my cheek. ‘I should go before your neighbours stir.’
‘I know. We can’t make any mistakes now, Reid. I’ve been mulling it over and, at some point, Ana will leave home and begin a life of her own. Everything will change then, and adulthood will give her a different perspective on life. That would allow you a sort of freedom, wouldn’t it, and lessen the hold that Beatriz has on you?’
He shifts position to lie on his back, so that he can slide his arm beneath my head and pull me closer to him. ‘I guess it would. But Ana is only fifteen, she might not leave home until she’s twenty-something. I can’t expect you to put your life on hold. I come with too many problems, Seren. What’s that saying… you get what you deserve, or something like that. I made some bad decisions and yet if I’d done things differently, I wouldn’t have Ana in my life. So, I guess there’s always a price to be paid. But you don’t deserve to pay that price, too.’ He tilts my chin with his thumb, forcing me to look directly at him. ‘Your best years are yet to come. This is just the start, Seren. My advice to you is let go before you get pulled even further into this madness. Can you imagine how difficult it would be going forward, constantly having to be careful whenever we are around each other? It wouldn’t be easy and that’s no way to begin a relationship.’
We lapse into silence.
‘I agree, but you are entitled to have a life of your own, Reid. Nothing changes that fact. You aren’t married any longer.’
‘To Beatriz that’s a small, insignificant detail. In Portugal, it is family first and foremost. Her connections were what helped establish me and it was a true partnership in that respect. Without her influence, I wouldn’t be where I am today and everyone around us is well aware of that fact. Including me.’ He begins to laugh at the irony of the situation. ‘I’m not just trapped, my hands are also tied.’
Reid needs Tomas and Beatriz if he’s going to plough forward. If not, the sacrifices that he’s made will all have been for nothing.
He
holds out his hand and we intertwine our fingers.
‘Do you think we knew each other in a previous life?’ he muses. ‘The moment we met in person for the first time, you took my breath away. You walked towards me as I opened the car door, and the connection was there. That’s crazy, isn’t it?’
Closing my eyes, the image of Reid’s face doesn’t fade away, it remains strong like an imprint and I wonder if he’s right. Was it a coincidence I ended up here, in Lisbon, or is there a thread that runs through time, joining people together?
‘I’m not sure I’ve figured out what I believe when it comes to fate and what lies beyond this life. My mother always says that like-minded people gravitate towards each other. Maybe it’s more about empathy. We’re two individuals who are determined to make a better future for ourselves and perhaps we give off a vibe only fellow sufferers can feel,’ I suggest.
Reid laughs. ‘Of what – desperation?’
‘No!’ I retort firmly. ‘Of optimism and of welcoming change into our lives. I came here believing it was time to live each day without regret and that meant turning my back on the negativity that was around me. It’s still my aim,’ I reply with sincerity.
‘Well, I’m good and ready for change but I’m a little short on optimism at the moment. Realistically, for the foreseeable future, it’s a case of creeping around and snatching moments together until I manage to undo all of the constraints,’ Reid’s tone is sombre. ‘The risks are very real, Seren, and I can’t labour that point enough.’
‘If you can live with that, so can I. Let’s not pre-empt what might, or might not, happen. Dreams often change over time and people do, too,’ I reply, gently.
Could there be a middle ground between us? I wonder. A perfect compromise where our very different aspirations could live side by side?
‘You’re not going to give up on me, are you?’ His smile is tinged with sadness. Reid seems to feel his situation is hopeless and that it’s a battle he can’t win. But the decision is his entirely and I can’t understand why he doesn’t see that.
‘I believe in fighting for what matters. It’s the way I’ve lived my life so far, and I’m not about to change.’
‘Let’s take it one day at a time, Seren, but if you tire of it, you only have to say. Now, I think I’m going to need a strong coffee before you push me out the door. Beatriz will be feeling triumphant, having wheedled her way back into the house. Goodness knows what trouble she’s stirred up in the last twenty-four hours. Let’s hope it’s as easy to get her to leave as it was for her to slip back in without my permission.’
Left alone with my thoughts, I decide to head out to the workshop. It’s time to start a new sculpture inspired by one of Reid’s atmospheric paintings looking out over the Tagus Estuary Natural Reserve. He had captured a kestrel in flight and its wings were spread wide as it seemed to float on the breeze. There was something about that solitary little bird that resonated with me. It wasn’t that he was alone, but that he was free to glide and wheel over a landscape that stretched out over a massive expanse beneath him. He looked so regal, as if that split second in which Reid managed to capture him was his one defining moment in time. There was a sense of total freedom, as if the wind, the sky and the landscape had been created solely for him.
I blew up the photo and printed it out, and today it’s time to make a start. There’s always a little bubble of nervous excitement which rises up within me whenever I begin a new piece. Every single detail matters. The size, the perspective, the right technique to bring the vision alive. Reid’s brushstrokes are light and the beautiful markings on the bird’s feathers seem to shimmer, like tiny individual mosaic pieces. It’s going to take hours of work to recreate this and it will be a labour of love, a tribute to the quest for freedom. Each individual piece will be hand-cut from thin aluminium sheets and hammered over the bevelled edge of the old vice on the workbench.
As I begin using the tin cutters to form the largest feathers, the repetition is calming, the effort and concentration involved stilling my troubled thoughts. Even the sounds filtering in through the open door of the neighbourhood as it stirs around me aren’t a distraction. I feel peaceful and I’m grateful that life has brought me here. For all the problems and the anxieties that I’ve been through, no one can take away the promise of tomorrow and what it might bring. I refuse to give up, to let other people place constraints upon me and I won’t live in fear. Reid and I will grab our moments of happiness and if that’s all we are destined to have, so be it. It harms no one and, if we are discreet, the days and weeks will pass and who knows what might happen in the future?
I look down at the phone lying next to me as it lights up and begins to skitter across the pitted wooden bench. Pulling off my gloves, I snatch it up and see that it’s Carolina.
‘Olá, Seren. How are you this morning?’
‘I’m good, thank you, and you?’
I lean back against the wooden bench, gazing out over the garden.
‘Antero just called to see if we were doing anything at lunchtime. The band he’s in are doing a little performance at the Time Out Market. He says if we are interested to head over early, elevenish, and they will do their best to reserve some seats. You know how busy it gets. What do you think? It sounds like fun, yes?’
‘I’d love to come along. Shall we meet at the ferry? What time?’
‘Ten-thirty?’
‘Perfect, see you later and I’ll look forward to it.’
I continue working for a while, thinking about Carolina and Antero, and how excited she sounded. It’s good to be able to accompany her, because something tells me she would have felt awkward turning up on her own. It’s nice to do something for her for a change, to repay the kindness she’s shown me. The world is full of good people and yet isn’t it ironic how the bitter, vengeful and selfish minority grab our time and attention as we battle to undo their harm.
Everyone who comes to Lisbon ends up walking around the Time Out Market. The food hall is located in the Mercado da Ribeira, taking up over half of this old area of the city. A stone’s throw from the Cais do Sodré ferry terminal, it opened in 2014 and tourists and locals flock here. Without a doubt, it is one of the top ten places to visit for anyone perusing the guidebooks and planning a trip.
Some people drop in to grab a quick bite, others are weary tourists grateful to rest and refuel, but the atmosphere is always lively and congenial. You hear languages from all around the world and if you can’t understand what someone is saying you simply smile, point and show your delight at the wonderful food you are tasting.
Carolina and I hurry through the huge fruit and veg hall. Staff are still in the process of setting up and clearing a long line of trolleys piled high with the morning’s deliveries. The hollow space, and the metal support structures overhead, seem to take each little noise and expand it. It’s like watching a machine in action, where you can hear the constant workings of the interior. Metal upon metal as the trolleys make contact, the clatter as a newly emptied tray is thrown onto a growing pile. People call out to each other and it’s a general hive of activity.
Hurrying past the fish stalls, where the scallops look like white pearls, the pungent smells of the sea assault our noses. Then we approach the meat section, where our ears are filled with the sound of heavy cleavers crashing down onto well-scrubbed butchers’ blocks.
We walk into the next part of the market, along an aisle of booths. There’s a florist’s, every inch of the space burgeoning with blooms that spill out into the gangway. Then a little stall where two servers are busily slicing buns, the sign above their heads advertising hot dog de polvo à lagareiro – octopus. We take a right turn as we weave in and out of the staff, everyone in a hurry to prepare for the mass influx of people who will soon begin to stream in through the doors as lunchtime approaches.
Carrying on past Garrafeira Nacional, the walls lined with glass-fronted cabinets and an Aladdin’s cave of wines, liqueurs and spirits, we ev
en resist the temptation to stop and admire the next concession. An array of mouth-watering cakes and tarts are being rearranged and a woman calls out in Portuguese, offering us a sample plate. We smile apologetically, as we move on.
Crossing over into the main food hall, there are probably less than a hundred people in here, but it will fill up very quickly now, as it’s almost eleven o’clock. Scanning around, it’s easy to spot Antero and a group of guys towards the far end of the cavernous room. The interlinking metal structures supporting the roof, which is made up of opaque panels, make it light and airy. A long run of lights is suspended the full length of the beams which traverse the open space. All four sides of the hall are lined with eateries, counter after counter tightly packed together, and within each, a team of chefs turning out the most exquisite food.
Everything here has been chosen, tasted and passed by a panel of Time Out’s own journalists and critics; make no mistake, this is a five-star dining experience. With representatives in all of the various food categories, it celebrates the true taste of Lisbon’s gastronomic experience together under one roof. This place is the main reason I was keen to tie in a celebration of the local cuisine with the gallery’s fashion shoot. If we can create even a little of this buzz, I will be delighted.
These micro-restaurants belong to some of the most well-known Portuguese chefs in the business and I could spend all day walking around the vast rectangular space, watching them beavering away and fussing over the smallest of details – incredible given the sheer volume of customers they serve each day.
Carolina glances at me, her eyes sparkling as we walk past the vast run of tables which extend along the entire length of the room. As we take a short cut, passing one of the handful of small bars and gaze briefly at two large tanks filled with lobsters and crabs scuttling around, Antero hurries forward to greet us.
