by Alex Brown
‘Sorry, Bernie. But I have to go.’ And Grace did what she wished she’d had the courage to do at least a year ago, and pressed to end the conversation with her sister, Bernadette, because there was no point in trying to make her see how far removed from the reality of the situation she was. Bernie was perpetually busy, and blinkered, and convinced that her life was a trillion times more stressful, or indeed important, than anyone else’s, and that’s just the way she was. Grace doubted if Bernie would ever change; she had been like it as a child, always trying to curry favour with their mother, to be her favourite, even if it meant telling tales or defending Cora’s criticism of her siblings. But it didn’t mean Grace had to put up with it any more. So, after dropping her phone back inside her bag, she drained the last of her wine and vowed to enjoy the rest of the evening, in fact all of the time she had left here in Italy. She would call home later. But for now she was going to work on the assumption that Jamie would, as he had promised to, let her know right away if Cora really was upset by her absence.
‘Top-up?’ Ellis said, lifting the bottle of wine.
‘Oh, yes please,’ she said, gratefully, pushing her glass towards the centre of the table.
‘I see what you mean, Bernie sounded very fierce,’ Ellis said, softly.
‘Could you hear?’
‘Sure, it was hard not to with her yelling at you like that. And sorry for probing you like I did before … guess you should have ignored the call after all. You look totally ashen.’
‘Sorry,’ Grace instinctively said, her kneejerk reaction to perceived criticism born from learning early on with caring for her mother that it was the best way for an easier life.
‘Hey, don’t apologise. I shouldn’t have been a jerk and interfered. It was none of my business.’ And he shook his head apologetically.
‘You did me a favour, I think …’ Grace said, tentatively.
‘I did?’ he asked, looking baffled.
‘Yes, standing up to Bernie isn’t what I would normally do, but I actually feel better for doing so,’ she said, nodding her head in confirmation.
‘Then that’s a good thing. Want to talk about it? I promise not to interfere again,’ he said, pouring her an extra generous measure of wine.
‘I shouldn’t really, it will only ruin a perfectly lovely meal.’ She busied herself with taking a piece of rustic bread from the basket and biting into it.
‘You wouldn’t be doing that. But I knew something was up, you’ve been …’ he paused, clearly searching for the right word, before settling on, ‘different, for the whole day.’
‘Oh, that’s not the reas—’ she muttered through a mouthful of the bread before washing it down with a big gulp of wine, but he quickly cut in.
‘Well, I’m a good listener, if you change your mind.’ And he momentarily touched his fingertips to the top of her bare arm, quickly moving his hand away seconds later, but not before Grace had felt a tingle that swirled right through her, almost making her gasp out loud. Inhaling through her nostrils, then letting out a long puff of air, she finished the wine, and then, after studying his face momentarily, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange, she told him all about it. Told him what her life was really like caring for a challenging parent and trying to navigate her way around Cora’s needs, plus dealing with her three oblivious siblings.
Ten minutes later, and Ellis was shaking his head in bewilderment. ‘Grace, I had no idea. I mean, I know that you’re a carer for your bedbound mother,’ he started, and then when she didn’t say anything, he expanded with, ‘Aunty Betty mentioned it.’ She glanced downwards at the table as he added, ‘But only in passing, and certainly not in any kind of judgemental way, I promise you, Grace.’
‘Why do you say that?’ she asked, picking at the cuticle on her left thumb.
‘Well, the way you shy away from talking about it, for starters, and the losing eye contact thing you do … that’s a dead giveaway that you feel embarrassed, or ashamed, perhaps. That others are judging you. Why is that, Grace?’ And he stared directly into her eyes.
Grace blinked and went to look away again, but swiftly brought her eyes back to meet his, determined not to prove him right about the eye contact thing. Yes, she knew she did it, but gosh, must he be so direct? Was it an American thing? Or maybe she just wasn’t used to people, men like Matthew and Phil, actually being interested in how she felt. Jamie of course did, but then they’d been friends for absolutely ages and so that was different somehow. And Grace hadn’t ever properly confided in Matthew, or Phil, about how she really felt about being Cora’s carer, so it was her own fault really …
‘Oh, um, err … I’m not really sure,’ she managed, taken aback.
‘Come on, Grace. What’s so wrong with being a carer? Other than it being damn hard work, I imagine.’
‘Yes. Yes, it is.’
‘Then hats off to you, it’s an admirable thing to do.’ And he nodded his head and laid his hands palms up on the table as if to underpin his statement.
‘I’ve never really looked at it like that,’ Grace said, letting her gaze fall now on the candle between them on the table. Ellis was looking at it too and so she figured he couldn’t really pass comment about the eye contact thing.
‘Why the heck not?’ he asked, his New Yorker accent seeming stronger all of a sudden.
‘Because … I don’t know, it’s not exactly something everyone needs to know about and, like you said, it’s damn hard work,’ she ventured, unsure from being put on the spot, but it was an answer at least.
‘Oh, I see. So it’s modesty. You’re doing a good thing, but must keep quiet about it in case people think you’re humble-bragging.’
‘Well, not exactly. I can’t just leave my mother on her own … someone has to look after her.’
‘Then tell me, because I honestly think you should be proud of yourself. What you do is amazing. I don’t think I could do it and I hope I’m never put in a position where I have to find out. But why don’t you talk openly about it? I imagine your mother appreciates you caring for her very much.’
Silence followed as Ellis waited for Grace to talk to him some more.
‘I might keep quiet about it because …’ She let her voice fade away.
‘Go on,’ he prompted.
‘Well, it might be because my mother can be very difficult and very unappreciative.’ There, she had actually said it out loud.
‘Grace, I’m sorry to hear that. In what way is she difficult?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Yes, I know it must be very hard for her with nothing to do except lie in bed all day watching TV, but she can be very ungrateful,’ Grace said quietly. ‘And unkind. Hurtful even,’ she added when Ellis didn’t say anything. He just listened, his eyes softening when she glanced up from the candle to look at him, wondering if she was saying too much, but he seemed interested. Really interested. And so she added in almost a whisper, ‘The stuff she says to me makes me feel utterly rubbish about myself. She knows all the buttons to push to make me doubt my capabilities, appearance, morals … everything. And it makes me feel ashamed.’
‘Oh Grace, that’s terrible, and it would be wrong of me to criticise your mother, so I won’t. But I will say that you must try not to let her manipulation and controlling behaviour define you. I imagine she is jealous of you and that’s her problem.’
‘But she’s my mother. I can’t just abandon her.’
‘Sure, I get that. But it doesn’t mean she has the right to deliberately hurt you. You are more than that, Grace. From where I’m sitting I see someone wonderful. You’re kind and compassionate – just look at how much you care about finding out the truth for Connie. And you are smart too.’ Grace felt her cheeks blushing. ‘Don’t ever doubt that. And you’re beautiful – the way your gorgeous green eyes light up when you smile. And your red curls—’ And for some unfathomable reason that Grace couldn’t explain, she interrupted him by blurting out, ‘What colour hair does Jennifer have?’ whic
h momentarily seemed to throw him off kilter as his mouth opened and then closed before his forehead furrowed, he opened his mouth again and said, ‘Jennifer? Um, blonde. But it changes all the time. It could be pink the next time I see her.’
She nodded and pushed her chair back. ‘Err, I need the bathroom. Sorry. Be right back.’ And she dashed off inside the restaurant.
In the safety of the bathroom, she stared at her face in the mirror, wondering why on earth she would say such a ridiculous thing. Ellis was mostly likely sitting there now thinking she was some kind of fruit loop to come out with such a random question about hair colour. But she couldn’t work out where she was with him.
Is he flirting?
Or just being kind, trying to give me a boost?
If he’s flirting then he has no place to be and I should tell him so.
But I like it.
Splashing her face with water, she took a deep breath and willed herself to get a grip, telling herself he was just being friendly and kind. Of course he was.
After smoothing her sundress down and tidying her hair, she returned to the table where Ellis stood up and pulled her chair out.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks,’ Grace said, busying herself with sorting out the napkin which had dropped onto the floor in her haste to get away.
‘I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with compliments, and you don’t need my seal of approval at all, definitely not in a patronising, arrogant way … I hope it didn’t seem like that.’ Grace quickly shook her head. ‘I just wish you could see your qualities for yourself.’
‘Thank you,’ she smiled, swirling the last of her wine around the bottom of the glass. ‘Honestly, it’s OK, I appreciate you being kind.’ Ellis studied her for a moment, as if trying to work out whether to say something else, before seemingly deciding not to, then nodding and settling on, ‘Cool. And I say, more power to you for coming away to Italy. You sure need the break by the sounds of it and, from what you’ve told me about Jamie, I reckon he will take great care of your mother,’ Ellis said.
‘I’m sure he will. But I wish Bernie and the others could see it like that.’
‘I imagine Bernie probably does … deep down.’
‘Really? Why do you think that?’ she said, curious to hear his reasoning and feeling more relaxed now that he wasn’t paying her loads of compliments.
‘Because she knows that you do it all for your mother, and that she isn’t taking a fair share. And she feels extra guilty knowing that a neighbour is now taking care of Cora. That’s why she takes it out on you. Tries to make out you’re the inadequate one. They call it deflection.’
‘Do they?’ Grace marvelled, for she had never seen it this way. Only ever feeling as if she just wasn’t doing the caring for Cora well enough. But if what Ellis was saying was true, then it would make sense that Bernie, Sinead and Mikey were so keen to pack their mother off to a home or pay for her to be cared for by strangers. They would be doing their bit, albeit financially, but they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving it all to her.
‘Yes, those psychotherapist types,’ Ellis grinned, and nodded as if attempting to convince himself that he really did know what he was talking about.
‘Ah, those types,’ Grace teased, making Ellis laugh by cupping her chin as if pondering deeply, the wine having made her a bit tipsy. But it was nice to be able to chat about being a carer, without the judgement that she had envisaged, which she had now come to realise was mostly in her head. The shame of how her mother made her feel, with the abusive comments and stuff, now eased slightly, and she felt stronger for sharing it with Ellis. Maybe she’d even look into care-home options when she got home … or at least start discussing it with Cora so they could come up with a longer-term plan for her care that worked for all of them.
Grace was determined to build on her new-found feelings of confidence and become more independent. She might even find a flat to rent. Now felt like the right time to do that; as much as she did love her mother, Grace couldn’t continue living the way she had been for the last year or so. Ellis was right, she was worth more than that. More than the daily taunts and jibes that Cora meted out.
‘Come on, you. How about we get out of here and find a gelato place,’ Ellis said, bringing her back to the moment. He pushed his chair back and stood up, then, after pulling his wallet out, he left more than enough euros on the table to cover the bill.
‘OK, I’d like that. But please let me pay for dinner,’ she said, going to hand the notes back to him. ‘You’ve paid for practically all the meals so far.’
‘No way. It’s my way of thanking you for being such great company this evening,’ he said, chivalrously. And, after helping her with pushing her chair back across the bumpy cobbles, he gently took her arm and looped it through his before leading them off towards the seafront.
*
Later, after strolling along the promenade, the lights from the boats twinkling in the warm, starry night sky, her arm still looped through his because Grace had convinced herself that he was just being friendly, in a brotherly sort of way. Or was she still secretly liking the way he was with her? Being so close to him. And so had thrown caution to the wind about Jennifer ever finding out? They had enjoyed deliciously creamy salted-caramel gelato in buttery waffle cones from a little café crammed full of locals – children too, even though it was late in the evening by the time they discovered it. And Grace had thought how marvellous it was that whole families were spending time together, socialising and laughing and chatting like they actually loved and cared about each other. Unlike her own family, which always seemed to be at loggerheads. But Cora had a lot to answer for with it being that way, as she had often set out to cause division between them all as children, often pitching Sinead, Bernie, Mikey and Grace against each other instead of fostering unity.
Grace and Ellis had eventually got back to the hotel, having laughed and teased each other all the way, trying each other’s gelato and rating it on a scale of one to ten, where he had asked if she wanted to share a nightcap in the hotel’s small bar. The way he had looked at her, brushing a stray strand of hair back over her shoulder had implied the possibility of the nightcap turning into something much more, and so Grace had politely declined. Ellis hadn’t pressured her, instead giving her kiss on the cheek and wishing her goodnight.
In her bedroom, Grace flopped on the bed and called Jamie, forgetting how late it was. He answered with, ‘What time do you call this, lady?’ in a low voice, presumably so as not to disturb Cora.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?’
‘Yes you did, but don’t worry about that. Are you having a fabulous time?’ And then not waiting for an answer he continued with, ‘Don’t tell me you’re calling to check on your mother because I can tell you that she is absolutely golden. In fact, she is currently snoring away, perfectly contentedly. I can hear her from across the landing.’
‘Really?’ Grace said, imagining Jamie in the spare bedroom trying to block out Cora’s thunderous snores.
‘Yes, really.’
‘Sorry, I know how loud she can be.’
‘Don’t you dare apologise,’ he chastised halfheartedly. ‘And her ladyship hasn’t once called out in the night since I’ve been on duty, so you might want to have a chat to her about it when you get home. All that wanting the lamp switched on and needing the loo and stuff is a ruse, I reckon. Designed to get you at it … to make a fuss of her.’
Grace fell silent for a moment, taking in what Jamie was telling her. So Bernie really had been fibbing in that case. Grace knew it, but part of her couldn’t believe it for sure, until now.
‘But why would she do that?’
‘I don’t know, and I’m not about to waste time wondering what goes on in her head. And nor should you, sweetheart. Not when you are in bella Italia.’
‘Hmm. Has Bernie been in touch?’ Grace ventured.
‘Oh, yes, that madam called the house phone
and then had the temerity to tell me off when I answered … for “letting you run off to Italy at the drop of a hat”.’ And Grace could just see him doing quote signs in the air with his fingers before rolling his eyes.
‘I’m sorry, Jamie,’ she groaned inwardly.
‘Oh purlease, honey, stop apologising. I soon put her right. Bernadette Quinn doesn’t rattle my cage. And she should know that from the time she tried to lock me in the shed when we were kids.’
‘Ah, yes I remember that. Her face was a picture when you found that loose panel and escaped, only to tip a bucket of freezing cold water all over her new Sarah Jessica Parker-style perm, complete with the oversized pink bow on top,’ she laughed.
‘Yes, hilarious – howled for hours she did!’ he replied, laughing too at their shared memory.
‘And sorry about Phil turning up … he phoned me, and—’
‘Ugh,’ Jamie responded dramatically. ‘What did you ever see in that caveman? He said you were dumped so I’m presuming it’s OK to slag him off now?’ He paused and Grace could hear him drawing breath as he checked.
‘Ah, yes. Sorry if he was rude to you,’ she swiftly confirmed.
‘Grace, the guy could barely string a sentence together properly, and as for his silly alpha-male posturing when he managed to galvanise his two brain cells into action and work out that I’m gay … well, it serves him right that he tripped over his own feet when he stormed off down the street. Face-planted the pavement, he did. Trust me, he won’t be knocking on your door any time soon.’
‘Why, what did you say to him?’ Grace resisted the urge to giggle.
‘Only that he should think himself lucky you were on the rebound after Matthew, as he was punching so high it’s a wonder he didn’t get altitude sickness. Honestly, Grace, he really is a bit bottom of the barrel, to be fair. Anyway, enough about Bernie and that dollop, Phil: tell me about Italy. And Ellis. What’s he like? He’s American isn’t he? Has he made a move on you yet?’
‘Shhhussshh,’ Grace instinctively said, conscious that Ellis was on the other side of the adjoining wall. ‘That’s the other reason I’m calling you.’
