Love & The Goddess (3 page)

Trevor collected her from the train station in Galway city. I stayed at home, busying myself in packing the clothes she had asked for from her wardrobe. As I was filling a plastic toilet bag
with sun-block, sachets of shampoo and conditioner, I heard a key turn in the front door and hurried out on to the landing.

Julie came through the door first and I ran down the stairs to embrace her, stroking back her long dark hair. “What’s going on, Mum?” Her tear-stained brown eyes studied me in
disbelief. “He told me you two were breaking up!”

Trevor was walking in behind her. “Come and sit down,” he said, steering us both into the living room and pointing to the sofa. I sat down, but Julie remained standing.

“I can’t understand why you have to divorce at your stage in life,” she screeched at me.

Taken aback, I jolted upright. Obviously, Trevor hadn’t told her the full story. “You’d better ask your father.”

Trevor was shifting uncomfortably in his armchair. “Like I said, your mother and I simply grew apart. Our relationship has become a battleground. It must have been difficult for you to
witness during the past few years.”

“Oh cut the crap, Trevor, and have the guts to tell her,” I snapped.

“Julie.” His eyes searched hers. His voice was pleading. “I’ve fallen in love with Martha. I’m not proud of the fact, but we can’t choose who we fall in love
with …”

Julie interrupted, her voice raised. “Martha? Your pathetic little secretary?” She moved to stand over him and he also stood up and tried to embrace her, but she crossed her arms
like two swords to fend him off. A glimmer of satisfaction almost caused a smile to escape my lips. But I suppressed it. Right now, Julie’s feelings were more important than revenge.

Trevor drew a shaky breath. “You have every right to be angry, Julie, but a part of me will always love your mother. I think she is the most wonderful woman I ever met. You were born out
of love and nothing will ever change that.”

“You love me …?” I was on the point of blurting out more, but thankfully stopped. A voice inside my head was telling me to hold still. Getting over-emotional could cause me to
lose control and make a fool of myself. I wanted to be calm for my daughter’s sake. Julie didn’t seem to notice my tone; her eyes remained fixed on her father. “Well, don’t
expect me to give you a blessing. For an intelligent man you’re a self-centred idiot. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to finish packing.” She moved away abruptly.

I said, “I have the big black case laid out for you, Julie. I’ve added everything you put on the list. All you have to do is finish up. The kettle’s on for tea and there are
sandwiches and scones in the fridge.”

“Thanks, Mum.” She closed the door firmly behind her. Her footsteps faded down the marble tiles of the hall to the kitchen.

I turned on him. “Why didn’t you tell her about Martha?”

He avoided my eyes. “The words just wouldn’t come out. I knew this would be deeply upsetting for her.” He paused nervously. “I want to thank you for not labouring the
fact that I am the one to blame. I appreciate that you didn’t point the finger at me, Kate.”

“Good. I’m delighted you can appreciate something about me after twenty-three years together.” As I spoke, his head was turning in the direction of the Goddess picture. His
face assumed a look of incredulity before filling with grave concern. He was obviously worried about the whereabouts of the hunting scene. For a moment, I wondered what he’d say if I told him
I’d slashed it and thrown it out with the rubbish. I waited. He could choose to ask me directly or sweat it out until he came across it at the back of the wardrobe in the spare room.

“Kate?”

“Yes? What?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m suggesting anything to you, but should you ever wish to live in Galway city, I’d have no hesitation giving you the apartment. You’ve
always loved it.”

Live in the apartment? It took me a moment to register what he was saying – he was expecting me to leave the house? I took a deep breath. “Well, thank you, Trevor. That may come in
handy for the odd weekend. Yes, I think I could avail of that.” Judging by his expression, his offer hadn’t been received in the manner which he’d intended. I wasn’t going
to give up my home that easily.

There wasn’t much time to spare before Julie had to leave. Trevor waited in the car while we said our goodbyes. Julie threw her arms around me and kissed me. “Look after yourself,
Mum. I can’t believe he fell for her when you are so much better in every way.”

“I know Julie. Don’t worry about me. I love you. Be gentle with yourself and eat well, won’t you?” She’d always seemed so capable, but I knew she could be hard on
herself. I worried about her going it alone in a strange city after finding out her parents had separated, but the decision had been made months ago.

“Yes, Mum.” She was smiling. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Look after yourself.”

But as she sat into the car beside Trevor, she was obviously struggling to hold back the tears. Trevor was fussing over her, checking the seat was in the right position, that she was
comfortable. It reminded me of the early days of our dating, when he used to call me ‘Princess’. I felt a strange tinge of jealousy that he would never again regard me as special.

I knew it was only a matter of time before the whole village would be talking about the doctor ditching his wife for a younger model. Rumours must be spreading like wildfire
with, I was sure, bits and bobs embellished as they went from person to person.

I tried to live like a hermit by parking my car around the back of the house and avoiding people as best I could. But eventually, I knew I had to venture out. I needed bread and milk and I
couldn’t drive into Galway again or call Tesco’s to deliver the basics. It was a case of visiting the local supermarket or living like a hostage for the rest of my life.

I knew if Ella had been here she’d have come to my rescue with the essentials, but she was in Greece running a conference and I still hadn’t been able to speak to her. I’d left
her all manner of messages but usually turned my own phone off, so when she did manage to get free from team building and marshalling two hundred executives from breakfast to dinner, all
she’d been able to do was to leave voicemails: “Hang in there, Kate. I’m back next week. Just hold on.” She was my best friend, and I knew from her voice that she felt
terrible about not being able to be with me.

I drew in a deep breath, as I parked my car in the supermarket car park. I had to do this or I might starve. Heading for the back entrance, I passed the local bank manager’s wife, who I
knew well. She had her head stuck in her car boot as she meticulously rearranged her bags of shopping. I glanced back as I passed her, to find her staring at me. “Hello, Sandra. How are
you?” I summoned as cheery a voice as I could manage.

“I’m fine. In a terrible hurry.” She blushed as she scurried around to the driver’s door. I felt my stomach turn over. Was this how it would be? People I’d met and
chatted to every day until now, suddenly avoiding me, too embarrassed to speak to me? Grabbing a shopping trolley, I braved it and headed into the supermarket. It was early in the morning and
members of staff were stacking the shelves. I lingered by the vegetables. Orange baby carrots gleamed through their clay coating, smelling of freshly turned earth. Cauliflowers plump like cabbage
patch dolls winked at me, suggesting a killer soup, bursting with vitality. Beside them sat velvety aubergines and crinkly celery in pale green corrugated sticks. Focusing on what I could do with
all these lovely ingredients distracted me for a moment. Food had always been my thing. Family celebrations had seen me spend days preparing gargantuan amounts of food to thrill everyone, from my
gourmet father to my sister Liz, who qualified as the crankiest dieter on the planet. The role of nurturer sat well with me and I’d developed all sorts of tricks for making food irresistible.
Nothing pleased me more than to see guests stagger out my door, not from drink but from a belly weighed down with overeating.

Now there would no more celebrations to cook for. I found myself thinking it would seem like too much trouble to cook for myself. A shiver ran through me as I registered how lonely I felt as a
single woman. Then a voice in my head scolded me with:
So, are you going to abandon yourself and let yourself become a waif? A pathetic victim? And what about always warning Julie to eat well?
You hypocrite!
No. I wasn’t going to let Trevor take away my enjoyment of food and cooking. As I was filling my trolley, a voice cut through my thoughts: “So, how are
you?”

I spun around. An old woman was peering at me. Her face was familiar but I didn’t know her name. I said, “I’m well and how are you?”

“I heard about your break-up.”

I opened my mouth to reply but nothing came out.

It didn’t stop her. “You’re lucky to be breaking free at your age. Men get very bossy as they get older. Set in their ways. Your fellah was too old for you anyway. I had to
wait for my auld fellah to die before I could get a bit of peace.”

How could I answer that? “Well, thanks for telling me.” I smiled and turned away. I understood the veracity of her words. But advice, no matter how wise or kindly the intention, now
seemed overly intrusive. I somehow numbed out and began hurling whatever came to hand into the trolley. In my search for tinned tuna, I stumbled into the pet food aisle, looking at food for a pet I
didn’t own. Instead of kitchen paper, I mistakenly pulled down a bag of disposable nappies. My heart sank as I registered this mocking reminder of my passing years. I suppressed an urge to
scream and hurl them down the aisle before a cheeky thought intervened to cheer me up. Maybe I should bring them to the checkout counter. That would really give the locals something to talk
about.

It was clearly well known that Trevor had moved out, yet it didn’t stop some of his patients calling to my door “looking for the doctor” after hours. That was
the problem with being married to the only doctor in a small village, especially one held in such high esteem. Later that evening an old man arrived, puffing pipe smoke into my face as he spoke.
“As you know yourself, this house has been in Doctor Canavan’s family for three generations. I’m not taking no sides but I have to tell you the doctor’s family
wouldn’t be too pleased to have you staying on here.”

His words rattled me. I closed the door as politely as I could without slamming it shut and collapsed against it, my back to the cool wood. I felt the tears pricking. I knew it would be foolish
of me to uproot my life in response to an old man’s ramblings, yet it felt like he was right. The house belonged to Trevor and I’d always felt it was only on loan to me. His family
might descend on me at any time, like praying mantises. He had offered me the Galway apartment, an investment property he had purchased in the Celtic Tiger years. Clearly he didn’t think he
had any chance of selling it for a profit now. And so why shouldn’t I live in it? I was beginning to think that it might be in my best interests to make a clean break from the small world of
the village and start my new life elsewhere.