‘It’s not fucked up,’ she said, frowning. ‘I’m not going to be breastfeeding them or anything.’
‘Aaargh!’ Dan grimaced. ‘Thanks a million for that image.’
‘I mean, it’s true that whenever I thought about having kids, I imagined them being a bit younger …’
‘Younger than you at least.’
Stella laughed. ‘Yeah. Even Scott’s a couple of years older than me, and he’s the baby.’
‘What about the fame thing? It doesn’t worry you?’
‘I could do without it. But we’re keeping the wedding small and low-key, and it’s not as if Peter’s going to sell it to a magazine or anything. Anyway, even if photos did get out, what are the chances of anyone from back then recognising me now?’
‘You’ve changed a bit all right,’ he said with a grin. ‘You look fantastic.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled. ‘I do my best.’
‘So, what’s Peter Bradshaw like, then?’
‘He’s lovely. He’s been very good to me.’
‘Christ, Stella!’ Dan huffed, running a hand through his hair. ‘You’re not a fucking rescue puppy! You don’t need someone to be “good to you”.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just … we take care of each other. It’s nice.’
‘Nice!’ Dan rolled his eyes. ‘It sounds very exciting!’
‘Maybe I’ve had enough excitement in my life,’ Stella said quietly.
‘Yeah.’ Dan’s expression softened. ‘I guess you have. I just don’t think you should sell yourself short.’
‘I’m not “selling myself” at all.’
‘Hey, that’s not what I meant.’ He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I just think you’re settling for so much less than you deserve.’
‘This is already way more than I ever thought I’d have, Dan.’
‘I know,’ he said, throwing her a look that was at once apologetic and frustrated. She knew he only wanted the best for her.
‘Peter’s just what I need,’ she said, anxious to convince him. ‘I never thought I’d find a man I could be with like that – a man I could marry. I’m tired of being alone all the time. With Peter I can have a real family, someone to come home to at the end of the day.’
‘And you’re in love?’
She picked up the pot and poured them both more tea, not looking at him as she spoke. ‘I think we can be really happy together.’
‘That’s not what I asked.’
Stella turned to face him. ‘No, I’m not in love. But I like him a lot, and we get on great. I think we’re good together.’
Dan shot her a pitying look. ‘That’d all be great if you were looking for someone to keep you company in your twilight years. But you’re twenty-six. It’s not as if this is your last shot.’
‘But maybe it is. Who can say?’ She shrugged. ‘Why does everyone think that’s such a great basis for marriage anyway? I mean, look at all the arranged marriages that work out really well – and all the people who start out madly in love and wind up hating each other’s guts after a few years.’
Dan sighed. ‘I guess you’re right.’
‘Peter and I are already ahead of the game. We don’t have any unrealistic expectations to live up to. And we won’t have the disappointment of falling out of love because we’ve never been in love in the first place.’
‘So he’s not in love with you either?’
Stella gave a wry smile. ‘If he’s in love with anyone, I think it’s his ex-wife.’
Dan’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Bloody hell! And you still want to marry him knowing that?’
‘It just proves my point. So what if he’s in love with her? It didn’t make any difference, did it? He still couldn’t make his marriage work. They still ended up getting divorced.’
‘When did you get so mature?’ he said, his expression softening.
‘School of hard knocks, baby. I wouldn’t recommend it.’
‘And you’re happy?’
She considered before answering. It wasn’t a casual question. He really wanted to know.
‘Yes, I am. Peter’s a good man. I think we’re going to have a great life together.’
‘Well, that’s all that matters,’ Dan said.
11
‘What’s this?’ Al asked, nodding to the whiteboard in the corner of Lesley’s study. At the top she’d taped a photo of Stella and Peter that she’d printed off the internet, and she’d written Stella’s name in large capitals with a big question mark beside it. Underneath there was a list of the information she had gathered so far –
West of Ireland (seaside town?)
No social media??
It was a very short list.
‘It’s my incident … area,’ Lesley said. ‘There’s not much to it so far.’
‘Well, it’s early days.’
‘Yeah. I’m going to keep digging on the internet, but I haven’t found anything so far. It’s kind of weird someone her age not having any social media footprint at all.’
They were interrupted by Al’s phone ringing. He took it from his pocket and frowned down at the screen.
‘It’s Peter,’ he said as he tapped in a reply, ‘asking if I’m at your house for some reason.’
Another message pinged and he read. Then he looked up at her, eyes wide with panic. ‘They’re on their way over, him and Stella.’
‘They’re coming here? Why? How do they even know where I live?’
‘Apparently you’re having one of your drop-in meditation workshops tonight,’ Al said with a weary look. ‘You sent Stella the details?’
‘Ah feck!’ Why hadn’t she checked Madeleine’s content more thoroughly before sending it to Stella? She’d switched her photo and contact details, but she hadn’t thought to check the class details at all. She turned to the laptop on her desk and pulled up the website. Sure enough, there it was on the home page, big and bold – a drop-in meditation session every Thursday evening at seven, free to first-timers. Bloody Madeleine and her hippy-dippy, all-welcome ways!
‘Tell him ... it’s full up—’
But even as she spoke, there was a ring at the door. ‘Right,’ she said, snapping her fingers. ‘Sit on the floor.’ She threw her eyes around the room. ‘Oh Christ, the board!’ she exclaimed, her eyes landing on her ‘incident nook’.
‘What?’ Al looked up at her. He had already obediently settled himself cross-legged on the floor.
‘The board, the board!’ She waved at it frantically. ‘Get rid of it.’
Al jumped up to grab the board as she left the room.
‘Hello!’ she said as she threw open the door to find Stella and Peter standing in her porch. ‘Lovely to see you again. But I’m afraid I’m a bit busy at the moment.’ She lowered her voice and threw her eyes towards the living room.
‘Yes, that’s why we’re here,’ Stella said. ‘For the meditation.’
‘Oh! But ... you’re not enrolled,’ Lesley said, thinking quickly.
Stella frowned. ‘It says on your website that it’s a drop-in class.’
‘Oh, yes. Well ... come in and we’ll discuss it,’ Lesley said, waving them both inside. She needed time to think, but it felt rude to leave them standing on the doorstep any longer. She thought quickly as they stepped past her into the hall.
‘The thing is,’ she said, turning to them as she closed the door, ‘I’m afraid this evening’s workshop is full.’ She was so pleased with herself for coming up with this excuse on the fly that she couldn’t help smiling. She hoped she didn’t look too happy about turning them away.
Stella glanced through the door into the living room, where Al was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. He smiled and gave her a little wave.
‘It’s just Al,’ Stella said to Lesley.
‘Yes, that’s right. I like to give all my students one-to-one attention, so I only take one at a time. So like I said, the class is full. Sorry.’
‘Oh.’ Stella’s face
fell. ‘I see.’ She looked so disappointed that Lesley felt like a prize heel.
‘You really ought to put that on your website,’ Peter said.
‘You couldn’t even squeeze in a couple more?’ Stella looked at her hopefully. ‘Just this once?’
‘I’d love to. But it’s, um … it’s a health and safety issue!’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes! I’m not insured. What if you had an accident?’
Peter frowned. ‘What sort of accident? Meditation isn’t exactly a high-risk activity.’
‘No, but ... you could trip and fall, for instance.’
‘Really? I don’t see how.’
‘Well ... you might need to go to the loo. It’s down two steps. You could have a fall then.’
‘What if Al slips on his way to the loo? If you have public liability insurance—’
‘Okay, it’s not really about health and safety,’ Lesley said. ‘The truth is, I prefer to stick to just one student at a time. Any more ... um, drains too much energy from the room,’ she said, trying to sound mystical.
‘Oh. Okay.’ Stella nodded. ‘I understand. Some other time, maybe? Only I was hoping it was something Peter and I could do together.’
Oh, screw it, Lesley thought. It would give her an in with Stella, and it wasn’t as if she had no experience to draw on. She’d done that meditation course. It was mostly just telling people to breathe in and out. How hard could it be? She’d just wing it as best she could. Besides, thinking on your feet and toughing out tricky situations was all in a day’s work for a PI. At least she hadn’t pretended to be a yoga teacher. She didn’t fancy her chances of leading everyone in a downward dog.
‘All right, then. You can stay,’ Lesley told them. Her eyes flicked to the living room, and Al shot her a panicked look.
‘Oh, great!’ Stella beamed. ‘Thank you.’
‘Okay,’ she said, clapping her hands. ‘Follow me, and we’ll get started.’
Al gave Lesley a ‘what the fuck’ glare as she led Stella and Peter into the living room. She shrugged helplessly in reply. She was glad to see the incident board was nowhere in sight.
‘Okay, find a space,’ she said, spreading her arms in a Christ-like gesture to encompass the room.
She stood by the mantelpiece as Peter and Stella joined Al on the floor and looked up at her expectantly.
‘Right,’ she said, stalling for time, ‘since we have some newcomers tonight, why don’t we start by going around the room and introducing ourselves?’
Al gave a hoot of laughter that he quickly turned into a cough, while Stella and Peter looked at each other in bewilderment.
‘We all know each other,’ Stella said.
‘Well, yes, but … I don’t really know you, Stella. Tell us a little bit about yourself and what brought you here today – your meditation journey, if you like,’ she said, hitting her stride.
‘Um, okay.’ Stella gave Peter a bemused smile. ‘Well, I’ve been living in LA for the past few years. I’m engaged to this lovely man here,’ she said, nodding to Peter, ‘and we’ve just moved back to Ireland. I’m supporting him in his journey back to health and working on building a healthy, happy life together. I thought meditation would be a good place to start.’
Peter looked touched, and reached across to squeeze Stella’s hand.
‘And you have some previous meditation experience?’ Lesley prompted.
‘Oh, yes. I do a daily practice, and I’ve done a lot of training over the years in various disciplines. Last year I went on a Vipassana course in Nepal. Have you ever done one, Lesley?’
‘No, I ... haven’t got around to it yet. It’s on my bucket list.’ Just her luck Stella would turn out to be a meditation buff.
‘It’s pretty intense – ten hours of meditation a day for ten days, no communication, no contact with the outside world.’
‘Oh.’ Lesley gulped. ‘Not even ... a mobile phone?’
‘No. My teacher used to joke that we could have email, but no attachments.’
That was a joke? ‘Ha ha. Very funny. Well, you’ll find my style a little more ... easy-going.’
‘What tradition do you follow?’
‘Oh, it’s quite eclectic, really – a sort of rag-bag I’ve picked up over the years. I originally trained with the Buddhist Monks of Rathmines. Have you heard of them?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I guess they’re big fish in a small pond. I’d say they’d be the top dogs on the Dublin enlightenment scene.’
Al’s lips were twitching, and Stella looked bemused.
‘Right.’ Lesley clapped her hands. ‘That’s enough chit-chat.’ Improv was fun up to a point, but she was starting to break into a sweat. ‘Let’s get on with the show. Everyone close your eyes.’
They all obediently did so, and Lesley looked around quickly for some suitable accoutrements. She had a feeling there should be candles and incense, possibly even a gong. She didn’t have anything very spiritual-looking, but there was a fat Jo Malone candle on the mantelpiece; that would have to do. She lit it and placed it on the floor at her feet.
‘Focus on your breathing,’ she said, softening her voice. ‘In through the mouth and out through the nose.’ She took a few deep breaths to demonstrate while she tried to recall everything she’d ever heard in meditation or yoga classes. ‘Think about the space between your eyebrows – your third eye – as you breathe in. Feel the warmth of your breath on your face – that bit under your nose and above your lip ... where your moustache would be, if you had one. If a thought comes into your head, just let it go and bring your focus back to your breath. Empty your mind of all thoughts.’
She checked her watch. Christ, there wasn’t even five minutes gone yet and she was already running out of steam. How was she going to keep this up for an hour? ‘Notice the sounds and smells in the room ...’ Gah, why had she mentioned sounds and smells? She hoped no one farted and thought she was drawing attention to it. ‘Listen to the breathing of the other people around you ... focus on the lovely smell of the scented candle ... lime, basil and mandarin by Jo Malone ... just be aware of it, and let it go.
‘Imagine you’re on a beach,’ she ploughed on. ‘Feel the softness of the sand under you, the warmth of the sun on your skin. Listen to the sound of the waves on the shore, going in and out ... in and out ... in with the good, out with the bad. Out with the old, in with the new,’ she said, pleased with this sudden flash of inspiration. ‘Just be in the now ... experience this moment ... observe all the sounds you can hear going on around you ... on the beach, I mean, not in real life ... the waves swooshing in and out ... seagulls squawking overhead. Maybe there’s a yappy dog or a child howling in the distance ... just notice them and then let them go. Try to empty your mind—’
Peter opened one eye and squinted at her. ‘If you’d stop wittering on for a couple of seconds, it might help,’ he said.
‘Oh, yes. Good point. Okay ... be alone with your thoughts ... lack of thoughts ... I’ll shut up now. Just focus on your breath ... be with what is ... in the now ...’
She trailed off, relieved that she could stop talking. But she was still in a sweat at the thought of having to stand here watching them breathe for another forty minutes. Maybe she could get them to open their eyes and stare at the candle flame for a while, just to mix things up a bit. She decided she might as well sit down, and sank to the floor. She wished she could get a book, but she didn’t want to be caught on the hop if Stella should happen to peek. It would look very unprofessional. Al opened his eyes briefly and grinned at her. She smiled back and they exchanged a friendly eye-roll over her predicament.
After half an hour, Peter was starting to shift and fidget. Stella was still and serene, and looked perfectly relaxed sitting in a full-on lotus, her back ramrod straight. When Peter opened his eyes and started making faces at Lesley – comical grimaces of pain, silent calls for help, miming hanging himself – she decided enough was enough. She couldn’t hold o
ut any longer, and if Peter kept up his antics, she was going to either burst out laughing or go over and give him a clip around the ear, neither of which would be in keeping with her dignity as a meditation guru.
She got to her feet and grabbed a poker from the set of fire irons in the grate. Using it as a makeshift gong, she clattered it against the brass stand. ‘And you’re back in the room,’ she announced, snapping her fingers for good measure.
Al sputtered a laugh, and Peter and Stella looked like they were only just holding it in.
‘Well, that was ... interesting,’ Stella said, slowly unknotting her legs and stretching her limbs. ‘It was certainly different.’
‘Yes, well ... that’s the Rathmines lot for you. They’re very cutting edge.’
‘The time flew.’ Stella glanced at her watch. ‘I can’t believe it’s been—Oh!’
‘Yes, as it’s the last class tonight before we break for the summer, I decided to just do the half hour. I thought we could have tea and cake for the rest of the time, to celebrate the end of term.’
Lesley was relieved to be back on familiar territory as they all sat around the kitchen table. She and Al had big mugs of coffee and were tucking into doughnuts Al had brought, while Peter and Stella sipped green tea.
‘Are you sure you won’t have one, Stella?’ Lesley asked, holding out the plate of doughnuts. ‘They’re really good.’
‘No, thanks. We don’t eat cake. Poor Peter can’t, so I don’t either. It makes it easier for him if it’s just not around.’
‘That’s very nice of you.’ Lesley was impressed. She didn’t know if she’d have it in her to be so self-sacrificing. ‘You obviously take great care of him.’
‘She does.’ Peter put an arm around Stella and smiled at her fondly. ‘I’m very lucky to have her.’
Stella smiled back at him, blushing.
‘So you’re finished classes for now?’ she asked Lesley.
‘Yes. Probably for good, actually.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. I don’t think teaching meditation is really my forte.’
For Love or Money: A laugh out loud, heartwarming romantic comedy Page 8
