The Ladies' Midnight Swimming Club(17)

‘I’m sorry,’ Lucy murmured.

‘It is what it is, now. I hadn’t realised. I really had no idea – what on earth does that say about me, eh?’ It was the reproach that kept rising up in her thoughts: how could she not have known? ‘Anyway, this place, the surgery, everything we’ve built up over the years, I can’t see any way of hanging on to any of it. I’m not the kind of woman who can carry on under a cloud of debt. I’ll have to clear it and then… well, I can’t see there being much left over when I’ve seen all the bills off.’ There it was. She shrugged. Somehow, saying it out loud was not as terrible as she’d have expected.

‘That’s awful. I’m not sure what to say to you, but…’ She made a face, an inscrutable expression that was a mixture of condolence and hopefulness. ‘Look, you’ve just buried your husband; you can’t make any huge decisions here and now. These are things that people mull over…This is your home, your life…No-one is going to come in here and demand immediate repayment in the week after the funeral.’ She caught Elizabeth’s eye. ‘Are they?’

‘No, I shouldn’t think so. All of the debts that I’ve come across so far are from reputable lenders – banks and so on.’

‘That’s good, at least.’ Lucy leant forward, reached her hand towards Elizabeth’s arm. It was a simple gesture, but Elizabeth felt it was an act of kindness, as if someone really cared. ‘Does anyone else know?’

‘Good God no, apart from Jo. I don’t think I could bear to have the whole village talking about me now. I’m not even sure how I’ve told you, to be honest; I think I’ll die of mortification when word gets out.’ In spite of herself, probably due to a touch of nervousness, her tears mingled with an edgy laugh, so it sounded as if she gently snorted out the words. ‘Oh, dear.’

‘Look, you’re in no fit state to make any decisions yet. I haven’t anywhere I need to be for another few months. I was going to take Niall out of school until September to travel and pack in quite a bit of living before I return to my job in Dublin. But that still leaves us a little time to help out here, if you’d like.’

‘So, you will go back, eventually?’ Elizabeth asked, and she wasn’t sure why, but part of her couldn’t quite fit this woman in with a soulless city life.

‘Yes, I suppose we will,’ Lucy said briskly. ‘Here’s the thing though: if it helps, I’ll open up the surgery tomorrow morning for you. I’ll run it for the next two weeks and by then, maybe we’ll have an idea exactly how it’s running and what it’s worth. At least, you’ll be able to make an informed decision and not one based on what you think is the right thing.’

‘You’re very kind. Are you sure?’ Elizabeth had to ask, because she knew that when Lucy Nolan had agreed to come here today, neither of them had truly expected her to say she’d come back another day.

‘I’m not really sure, but I think Mum has been certain since the moment she mentioned it on the phone to me and who am I to disappoint her at this stage?’ She took up her mug and they toasted the next two weeks. It was, Elizabeth knew, just a reprieve, but already, it was one she was looking forward to.

*

Later, when the day had mellowed, in spite of the gushing overflow of water racing down the cliff face and the constant drip of gutters and eaves, it was decidedly warmer than anyone could have predicted. Elizabeth decided on a walk. She would only head to the end of the village, perhaps look out across the pier and thank the heavens for the fine evening it was turning into one way or another. There was, Elizabeth knew, an unmistakable lightness in her step after her conversation with Lucy Nolan earlier. She hardly noticed walking past the familiar houses, so caught up was she in the glorious blue skies and the notion that there was room to breathe.

Soon she was turning onto the road where the fishermen’s cottages stretched off into the end of the village. Jo’s little house sat stout and proud and she remembered the afternoon they’d spent there, when she’d felt the warmth of another person’s home envelop her in a way her own had never managed. It struck her as odd, this feeling that somehow she’d never really thought about it before, but her house – for all its faded elegance – had never been homely.

At the very end of the row, she stopped for a moment, looking back up the hill from Jo’s house, and then she looked back at the cottage. It was the only one with a gable wall and wide entrance lane running about its side. It had its own tiny garden, squaring it off, making sure that everyone knew it was just a little different from the rest. A plaque said the row had been built in the 1920s. There were narrow windows either side of the front door.

Jo had lived her whole life in that house. She tended the roses around the door – ready to bloom again in time for summer and she polished those brasses every single Saturday morning that the weather would permit.

Elizabeth leant against the low perimeter wall for a second. The sky overhead had pushed back any hint of cloud now, a clear blue vista, with a soft, end-of-day sun intent on drying out the land; it was inviting her to walk a little further.

‘Elizabeth.’ Jo’s voice at her back startled her. ‘Just the person I was thinking of.’ She was making her way down the path. ‘Lucy told me – it’s wonderful news.’