The Wife Before Me(86)
Kayla stands, water streaming from her. ‘Are you going to the summit now?’
‘As soon as I take a photograph of your lamb. What’s his name?’
‘Bluey.’
‘You stand beside Bluey and I’ll snap the two of you.’ She swipes her mobile and hits the camera. ‘Lovely.’ She checks the photograph and shows it to Kayla. ‘Now, let me take one of you and your mummy together.’
‘I want my lamb in the photograph as well.’ Unselfconscious in front of the camera, Kayla calls Bluey back to her side and crouches beside him.
‘Annie, will you stand over here?’ Moira gestures to her. ‘I’d like to get the ocean in the background.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t take photographs.’ She can no longer ignore the uneasiness that besets her when unexpected people call to the cottage.
Moira lowers her mobile immediately and clasps it between her hands. ‘I’m invading your privacy. How rude of me. I don’t think before I act, that’s always been my problem. I’ll leave you in peace. Thank you so much for your hospitality.’ Her eyes alight on the studio. ‘Oh, my goodness, Annie. Is that your studio?’
‘I told you, it’s no longer in use.’
‘But have you anything I can buy?’
‘You have dolphins, don’t you, Mammy, and lots and lots of butterflies like the ones in my room.’
‘Stained-glass butterflies? Oh, please, Annie. Let me buy one from you.’
Reluctantly, she opens the door to the studio. Moira gasps with delight when she sees the display case. ‘You’re so talented. Why on earth would you give up such a wonderful skill?’
‘I lost interest.’ She removes a small frame containing a butterfly, its wings in flight, from the display cabinet and puts it into a carrier bag. ‘Please accept this as a gift, Moira. Now, I’m afraid I really must get back to work. It’ll take no time at all to reach the fork in the road and you’ll be at the summit shortly afterwards.’ She holds the studio door open until Moira, gushing her thanks, moves away from the display case.
‘This view of the ocean is amazing.’ Once again, Moira is taking photographs. She swings around, her camera still raised. ‘It must be inspirational to live here.’ She slips the phone into her backpack, along with the carrier bag. ‘This beautiful butterfly will always remind me of your kindness.’
Forty-Nine
The Past
On the morning of her departure, Amelia walked through every room in Woodbine. She breathed in the smell of the old house and breathed it out again. She called to see Billy, who insisted, as he always did, that she have tea and Kimberley biscuits with him.
‘Goodbye, Billy.’ She hugged him so hard he gave a small gasp of surprise.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked. ‘I hope that man of yours is treating you right?’
Coming to say goodbye to him was a mistake. Better a clean break – but he was her last link with her father. John always seemed a little closer when she was drinking tea in Billy’s kitchen.
‘No, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Just running a bit late, so I’d better be off. Take care of yourself.’ A few kisses flung from her fingers and she was gone.
Nicholas had wanted to come to Galway with her and extend her overnight business trip into a short holiday. They would eat oysters in Clarinbridge and trek through Connemara, as they had done on their first weekend away together. Did she remember how happy they were then? Amelia remembered that happiness, the lightness of their footsteps, the music of their laughter. Nothing, she had believed, could ever come between them.
She should have spotted the cracks. There must have been signs she’d overlooked, swept up, as she was, in a delirium. A few days of relaxation would put the bloom back on her cheeks, he said. As he planned what they would do, where they would stay, she hid her panic, knowing that this would only increase his determination to come with her. She needed to unwind and become again the woman with whom he had fallen in love, he said. Not this nervous shadow who flinched at sudden movements and lay like a statue with her back to him at night. Being in love meant being patient. Very patient. He had taken to emphasising certain words and turning them into threats. He was willing to work through this difficult stage in their marriage as long as she showed signs of appreciating his efforts.
She showed him her work schedule for the coming week. Meetings with architects, tilers and painters, an office outfitter, the managing director of a company considering a revamp. Bored by her busyness, he eventually lost interest.
‘Another time,’ he said.
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she replied. ‘I’m only going to be away for a night. I’ll be back before you know I’ve left.’
* * *
She reached Galway in the early afternoon and presented her proposal to the management of a pharmaceutical company. They were moving to new premises and at this, her third interview, she was awarded the commission. It would be one of her most prestigious projects. After lunching with Betsy Poole, the human resources manager, they drove to the industrial estate where the new premises were nearing completion.
By the time they parted, the peak hour traffic was moving sluggishly through Galway City. Stalled at the entrance to a roundabout, she chewed her knuckles and allowed the fear that she had controlled throughout the day to take over. Madness… she had to turn back… there had to be another way. She would take the next exit on the Dublin route and drive home. It was the only sane decision she could make.