Love Me Or Leave Me (36 page)

‘Oh God … it’s been such a downer … but you know, it’s Dawn I worry about most, really. Her anger levels yesterday were so frightening … like a huge ball of negativity … she’s finding it impossible to accept us and to move on … to let go … and I want that for her so badly …’

Ball of negativity? Did he really just come out with that? What a patronizing eejit, Dawn found herself thinking. So typical of Kirk; now that he’d found happiness, he thought nothing could be easier than for the whole world to follow suit, so he could just glide over the mess he’d created and act like everyone got their Hollywood ending.

‘And yeah … Saturday’s protest march against fracking sounds good to me … count on me, man … you know I won’t let you down …’

Oh, spare me, Dawn thought, getting even closer now. That was the kind of thing he used to say to her, way back when. In fact, a day out at some anti-fracking rally was more or less Kirk’s idea of the ideal date. Being brutally honest though, she suddenly found herself wondering if there ever really was a time when she thought that spending her Saturday afternoon with a placard clamped to her, while she marched around in circles trying to look impassioned, was actually fun? But then Kirk’s idea of a good time and hers were so very different, it was actually scary.

Turning a corner onto the very last set of stairs, this time she saw him, with his back to her, long jet black hair scraped back into a ponytail. She could just so easily picture the other side of the phone call too. Her rival, calling to check in of course, doubtless to make sure that Kirk had in no way changed his mind.

He heard her footsteps on the marble floor and turned sharply around. And after a full day of one interminable session after another, where Dawn had studiously ignored him as lawyers discussed dividing their little business up, now she found herself able to look him dead in the face.

‘Be sure to give Shane all my love, won’t you?’ she said sarcastically, then just kept on walking, head held high.

*

By the time she got to the bar, it was already packed out. The champagne reception was in full swing and it looked like most other guests were already here and in high good humour too. From the corner of her eye, Dawn could see Chloe calmly topping up glasses, smiling and engaging in chat all round her.

Such a warm soul, Dawn thought. She’d certainly made this weekend an awful lot more bearable for her. She spotted one new face too, a tall, lean guy, late forties at a guess, who was dressed casually like a guest, but was mucking in behind the bar. Good-looking guy too in that older man way, lean with a Richard Gere, salt and pepper hair thing going on.

Odd Dawn hadn’t seen him before now, she knew pretty much all the guests and staff to see by now, but she thought no more about it and found herself drifting through the melee and out into the cool of the terrace outside. Bit of alone time, she figured, would do her no harm before she had to face Kirk yet again over dinner and pretend to be polite. She had the whole terrace to herself so she found a bench close to the door and sat down, hugging her knees tight to her chest.

Three months, three weeks and five days. That’s how long you’ve lived with all this.

Every now and then she kept reminding herself. And with perfect recall, she could still bring herself back to that godawful night, like it had only happened yesterday. Of course the irony of it was that she wasn’t even meant to be home in the first place; that particular evening she was supposedly meeting Eva after work to go to a movie.

‘No worries,’ Kirk had said, when she told him she’d be out for the night. ‘I’ll probably be late home myself anyway, I’m teaching at the Yoga Rooms till well past ten. So you just enjoy your night out and I’ll see you when I see you.’ All delivered casually, almost like a throwaway remark, so of course she thought absolutely no more about it.

But Eva had been forced to cancel their plans, something about a late evening meeting her project manager had called at the last minute. So Dawn found herself home unexpectedly early. God, had there been one single detail she hadn’t relived over and over again in her mind’s eye, in the three months, three weeks and five days since?

She remembered slipping her key into the lock, hearing music and smelling dope. So Kirk wasn’t working then? Bit strange, she could still remember thinking. His yoga class must have been cancelled. And that in itself was weird, because he never, ever cancelled classes.

Their tiny sitting room was empty, so following the music, she made her way to their bedroom, flung the door open and there they were. Like something out of a third-rate soap opera.

Kirk and Shane, naked and tangled up together. In bed. In
her
bed. Pair of bastards didn’t even have the good grace to look embarrassed about it.

Afterwards, even trying to explain why her marriage had so spectacularly imploded to other people had been mortifying. She’d tried her best to explain to Eva that what Kirk had done was a betrayal not just of her, but of her whole sexuality as well. Because if it had been the old cliché of him having an affair with another woman, in many ways it might have been easier to deal with. If that even made sense.

‘If that roaring eejit is now claiming to be bisexual,’ Eva thundered time and again, ‘then he’s even more delusional than I took him for. Because as far as I’m concerned, bisexuality is just a halfway house until you’re officially out loud and proud. So why put you through that? Why even bother getting married in the first place?’

A very good question and one Kirk had been expert at side-stepping. He was ‘exploring his sexuality’, was one particular gem he’d come out with. And ‘he didn’t feel comfortable being boxed into a corner, like straight or gay’.No, only the best of both worlds was good enough for him. While he just expected Dawn to accept all this and stay in what’s laughingly known as a ‘lavender marriage’.

Yet, sitting alone here on the terrace this balmy summer evening, the more Dawn dwelt on it, the more she seemed to realize that something funny was finally beginning to shift inside her.

Normally dragging up such an acutely painful memory never failed to reduce her to a complete and utter basket case. But yet this evening, looking down over the beautiful gardens with the sun just setting, it didn’t. Instead, for some astonishing reason, she surprised herself by feeling cooler, even calmer about it.

After so long apart, suddenly spending all this time with Kirk under the one roof this weekend was turning out, in a funny way, to be eye opening for her. Being able to let rip at him last night had somehow cleared the air for her, like the way a thunderstorm clears humidity. Finally getting to tell him to his face what she thought of him and what he’d put her through was liberating and cathartic. Healing even.

There was something more to it too. Slowly, Dawn was beginning to see that there was only so much she was just settling for with Kirk. And so much more about him that was actually starting to drive her completely mental. The incessant dope smoking for a start, till Kirk ended up spending approximately ninety per cent of his time going round glassy eyed and slurred and talking complete shite about Shamanism or something equally rubbishy. Then there was his firm belief that for anything to be good for the planet, it had to involve extreme discomfort, a vegan diet and more hemp than you’d normally see at Glastonbury.

But I hate hemp, Dawn suddenly thought. And so what if I fancy a lovely juicy fillet steak every now and again? Just because I don’t visit the compost heap with bagful of kitchen waste as often as I should, doesn’t make me the spawn of the devil either, now does it? And don’t even get me started on yurts, because frankly I’ve sat on Ryanair flights that were considerably more comfortable.

Another thought surfaced: she’d compromised so much for Kirk over the years and yet, had he ever done as much for her? She loved going to the movies and maybe eating out the odd time, nowhere flashy or expensive, but Kirk would have absolutely none of it. Not when they could sit in that poky little flat eating brown rice and tofu and listening to crap Ravi Shankar sitar music night after night.

All I put up with to make it work with him, she thought. While he barely lifted a finger for me. Just expected me to slot into his lifestyle and automatically assumed because he was happy, that I’d be too.

She remembered back to her wedding day, three long years ago. And for the first time since, actually surprised herself by saying aloud, ‘Mother of God, what was I even
thinking
?
’

‘I thought I heard someone out here,’ a man’s voice suddenly came from right behind her.

Startled, Dawn instinctively jumped, then saw that it was the barman, standing just at the door that led out onto the terrace. Tall, broad guy about her own age, with an unmistakable Kerry accent. She remembered him from the fire evacuation, when he’d guided her downstairs and calmly told her everything was going to be okay.

‘Can I get you something to drink … ehh … Miss … Miss Madden, isn’t it? Isn’t that right?’

‘Yeah, sure is,’ Dawn smiled, ‘but please, I’m Dawn.’

‘And I’m Tommy,’ he grinned back. Nice crinkly blue eyes, she thought. And a warm smile.

‘We actually met,’ Dawn said. ‘During the fire evacuation last night, remember? You were good enough to take me down the emergency stairwell.’

‘Course I remember the lovely lady in the white nightie,’ Tommy smiled back. ‘Hope you didn’t get a fright or anything? Terrible bad luck for that to happen on our very first night.’

‘No harm done,’ said Dawn.

‘Anyway, sure I saw you out here all by yourself and just wondered if I could get you anything? Maybe a drink?’

‘Emm …’ Dawn dithered for a bit, as she normally wasn’t much of a drinker, but Tommy here seemed to be having absolutely none of it.

‘Go on,’ he said, twinkling down at her. ‘Just a wee nip of champagne. Sure, it’s on the house.’

‘Just the one then. And thank you.’

She smiled to herself as Tommy disappeared back inside. What the hell.

It had been three months, three weeks and five days. Now maybe it was finally time for her to let go.

*

The very last letter of all had been shoved under the door, just before dinner.

My darling,

I needn’t even ask if you remember events of last Christmas. Or more specifically, just a couple of days before Christmas Eve. You know what I did, you know how badly I messed up and I think you must, on some level, know how much it killed me when I finally ’fessed up and came clean to you. And yet I had to. I couldn’t live with your not knowing. We needed to be honest with each other if we were to move on as I’d hoped. As I still hope. And if it were the other way round, I’d like to think that you’d tell me too.

But my timing, as ever, was a disaster. You weren’t long out of hospital, you were at your lowest ebb and you needed me.

And what did I do? I big, fat went and blew it. There was no excuse for what happened and I’ve none to offer you, my love. I’ve asked for your forgiveness so often now, I’m starting to feel like a broken record.

But believe me when I say if I could only turn the clock back, I would.

If you’d only give me a second chance, I’d spend every hour of every day for the rest of my tomorrows trying to make you happy.

Yours always. Yours forever,

Xxxxxxxxx

Chloe.

Just past seven thirty and I swear, I haven’t felt this strong and confident about myself in I can’t remember how long. Closure really is a wonderful, magical thing. In fact they should make an elixir drug that gives you that same sensation of pride in yourself, mixed with hope for the future.

Because if I thought I’d be a weak-kneed basket case after I saw Frank earlier, I really couldn’t have been more wrong. I called my pal Gemma to fill her in and her whoops of joy when I told her about practically escorting him off the premises nearly deafened me.

And I know just how she feels too.

Anyway, I’m down in the bar and there honestly isn’t room for a cat in here. The entire bar is packed out, the champagne is flowing (no surprises there, it’s on the house tonight) and there’s a definite air of celebration, now that things are drawing to a close. Well, that is among the majority of our couples, but sadly not all.

It’s all hands to the pump and like the rest of the staff here, I’m whizzing about topping up glasses, overseeing things and clipping in and out to the dining room every spare second I get, to make sure everything’s all set up for dinner at eight.

But the person who’s astonishing me most of all is Rob, who saw that we were a bit understaffed, so he just rolled up his sleeves and started to muck in with the rest of us. He’s standing behind the bar now, knee deep in orders and proving to be a more than capable mixologist.

‘Fair dues, you’re a dab hand with the aul’ cocktails,’ I laugh over at him at one point, as I go to grab fresh champagne flutes.

‘Remind me to tell you about the time I worked behind the bar in Raffles, Singapore,’ he grins back, winking at me. ‘And if you fancy a Singapore Sling after work, I’ll make you the best one this side of the Pacific.’

‘Ha, I might just need one after tonight!’

‘You won’t regret it. My Singapore Sling is the stuff of legend.’

By now, guests are spilling out onto the terrace and drifting into the Library next door, so I do a quick whizz around taking fresh orders and topping up champagne glasses wherever I can.

As I head out to the terrace to see if anyone needs refills, I’m greeted by the sound of happy, giggly laughter and when I step outside, I’m surprised to see Tommy deep in chat with Dawn.

‘No,’ Dawn is saying to him. ‘I never even knew it existed!’