Love & The Goddess (38 page)

“Mad as hell,” I fumed, as my foot pounded the accelerator.

“Look, you had the good sense not to sleep with him. Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re better off without him.”

“You’re right, I’m better off without him. He told me a load of lies and I thought he was so sincere.”

“If you ask me, he probably thought you’d have plenty of money between your job and your split with Trevor. You’ve to be very careful with some of these guys.”

“I’d hate to think he could be so mercenary but you never know.” I gritted my teeth. “Anyway, another one bites the dust. At least I won’t be wondering about him
any longer. God, it seems like I wouldn’t recognise a decent man if he knocked me down on the street.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” said James. “It’s early days yet.”

After getting home, I printed off Geoff’s profile page, tore it up and danced a jig on it before binning it. A text from him appeared on my mobile, saying,
“Kate I can explain.
Please call me.”
Two more came in shortly afterwards but I deleted them without looking at them – I was certain it was more lies. God, he could put on a very convincing act. All
that chat about being a devoted father to his Down syndrome child, and he had a younger son he hadn’t even bothered telling me about! That’s what he’d meant about his love life
being complicated – why couldn’t he have told me when I asked? I briefly wondered was Myra in on some plan to scam me but dismissed the idea as old-fashioned paranoia. He’d
probably treated her as badly if not worse than every other woman he met. At least two questions had been answered tonight. Geoff was ruled out and I would definitely be saying no to Billy’s
offer.

Trevor had hurt me by betraying me, yet he now sought my forgiveness. Over a twenty-three year period, he had certainly treated me better than any of the men I’d met in the last three
months, although if Lorna was right and he’d only got rid of Martha because she’d had an affair, it put a different slant on things. Sitting on my sofa with a cup of Lapsang souchong, I
looked at the image of the Triple Goddess and I thought of James’s advice. For some strange reason this painting always soothed me, as though the three Goddesses were enveloping me in a
tranquil mist, wispy as the clouds over the Andes.

I wrote H.A.L.T. on a piece of yellow card and wove it into the net of the dream catcher, which I had moved to dangle from beneath the painting. This would be my new mantra. I prayed to the Holy
Spirit to please help me find the patience to hold back and wait for the answers to come rather than feel I had to rush headlong into things.

M
y return to work in mid September coincided with the arrival of an Indian summer. The sun shone high in an azure-blue sky while a cool
autumn breeze nudged early fallen leaves into a light-hearted dance. I thought I’d dread the start of term but instead I found myself looking forward to the structure that work would bring to
my life. There were many different careers I’d imagined pursuing from anthropology to writing children’s stories, but ultimately there was something about teaching that suited me. I
liked interacting with young people and helping them. Like coaxing fledglings to fly the nest, I was always proud to meet past students and see how they’d blossomed.

Trevor had sent me several texts asking me to come back to see the house. He knew I was sentimental by nature and would have missed the house that I had spent so much of my life living in. I had
always loved returning to it after holidays abroad and would tell him no five-star hotel ever compared to it.

But I told him I needed time; that right now I was busy getting back into the swing of things. I always found the first two weeks back at college draining as my job demanded long hours standing
on my feet. Along with that, classes had to be planned, lecture notes needed updating and ingredients had to be bought for demonstrations.

As I stood at the top of my classroom giving the new first years an introductory talk, I was struck (not for the first time, if I’m honest) by how repetitive this had become after
twenty-three years. Almost boring. But who was I to complain? After all the upheaval I’d had, boring was good in my book. I thought of an old Chinese proverb I’d heard that said
“Pray for an uneventful life!” I used to think that was the most absurd saying I’d ever heard but now I understood too well the wisdom behind it.

My thoughts were interrupted by the bell signalling the end of the lecture as students gathered up their bits and pieces, shoving pencils, pens, spectacles and jotters into satchels and
rucksacks.

“Ms Canavan. Can I have a few minutes?” came a familiar voice as Mike Darcey, head of my department, hovered near the door. Wearing a fawn jacket over a white shirt and with his
hands behind his back he looked every inch the weasel I’d always considered him to be.

“Of course.”

As the last student left the room, Darcey pulled the door closed behind him. “And how are you keeping after your holidays, Kate?”

“Very well, thank you. And you?” I needed to appear composed and capable and not let him think I could be vulnerable after the creepy way he’d come on to me after hearing of my
separation from Trevor.

“I’m very well, thank you. However it appears we have a problem with a certain Mr Clarke’s result in his final cookery examination.”

“Oh? And what’s the problem?”

“He was very dissatisfied with not having received a distinction from you and he’s appealing it. I’m afraid you’re going to have to re-examine him, Kate.”

“I expected something like this would happen with all these cutbacks. Leaving teachers to examine their own students without the assistance of an outside examiner is fundamentally
flawed.” And it would be just like Ron Clarke, of all last year’s students, to be the one to test it.

“Can you set a practical examination for him for sometime next week, Kate?”

“No problem. He certainly didn’t deserve a distinction and I can’t imagine him having risen to that standard. He falls down on procedures and hygiene practice.”

Darcey edged closer to me to the point we were sharing the same air space. The man had no sense of personal boundaries and his breath stank to high heaven. “Kate, if I were you I’d
simply give him what he wants.” He lowered his voice, though we were alone. “We don’t need any unpleasantness here. We don’t want him kicking up a fuss. And you know
he’s well capable of so doing.”

I pulled back, overwhelmed not only by his breath but by his attitude. “I understand. I’ll brief him well in advance. That’s the best I can do. Now if you’ll excuse me,
Mike, I have a meeting with a colleague before my next lecture period.”

As I passed him, I could feel his eyes appraising my legs. I’d chosen to wear a knee-length skirt, but sometimes I felt like wearing a nun’s habit when I saw the lecherous way Darcey
looked at women. I made my way to the staffroom to find James. He was sitting at a window table in a quiet corner, assiduously checking his diary against a sheet of printed paper. In another
corner, three teachers congregated around a kettle, mugs in their hands. Elsewhere, people checked timetables, some looking happy as they discovered a block of free time, others dismayed by how
scattered their hours were. It was always the luck of the draw what you ended up with. I was happy with mine since I’d a few decent free blocks throughout the week.

“You won’t believe what happened?” I said, as I took the chair opposite James.

“Darcey told me Kate. That little brat Ron Clarke. I had him for first and second year. Remember? He was always trouble but nobody says anything because his father’s a local
politician and holds sway with some of the department’s associates.”

“Did Darcey tell you he expects me to automatically give him a distinction this time around?”

“Not in so many words but it was implied. That’s why I got a copy of your timetable to check when we both have free periods. I don’t want you leaving yourself wide open to
controversy so I’ll examine him with you.”

“God thanks a million for that, James. You’re a brick.”

“How about we schedule it for the second Friday in October at nine thirty? First hour is prep and then put him straight into a two-hour exam. Technically I’m not free for the full
three hours but I’ll get someone to cover my classes.”

“Sounds good.”

After I had left James, I headed for my triple cookery period with the third years, an amicable crowd unlike the nasty shower who had recently graduated. I’d ordered in the ingredients for
them to make a variety of pastries from choux to filo and puff pastry. The kitchen had a lot of windows and with temperatures outside higher than they had been all through the summer months, the
room was like a hot house. This made it tricky, even with air conditioning, for the students to keep everything from ingredients to utensils and their hands as cold as possible. “That’s
one of the principal rules of pastry making. Keep everything cold,” I said as I wrote on the board after they’d finished clearing up. “What’s next?”

“Ingredients must be weighed precisely,” called Lucy at the back.

“Why is that so important?” I asked, and lanky Bill put his hand up. “Yes, Bill?”

“Because something like choux pastry won’t be successful unless the ingredients are in the precise ratio. There’s no room for error.”

“Exactly,” I said, as the bell rang. “Now please do out your time plans for Thursday’s class and have all ingredients in. And don’t forget to bring enough jars.
You’ll want to pot your lovely jams and chutneys.”

“Thanks, Ms Canavan. Would you like a profiterole?” A blonde girl held a lunchbox open for me to take one.

“No thanks, Sharon. Not today.” Some classes left me inwardly grinning, despite the jokes remaining the same, with girls teasing the boys by asking them did they fancy me.
You’d think that would have subsided at my age but my newly single status seemed to have re-ignited curiosity. At the beginning of class, I’d noticed them look at my hands as they took
in the lack of rings, followed by whispering and elbowing each other in the ribs, yet the atmosphere was playful and good-humoured. A class like this gelled well; they were part of the reason I
loved the job. I suddenly gasped aloud – I’d forgotten to ring Billy to tell him I definitely wasn’t interested in his offer. I owed him that much.

That evening after dinner, I called him. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and then got to the crux of the matter. “But I thought you didn’t like your job very much,
Kate?”

“Truth is, I’m glad to be back, Billy. I like being part of a team. That’s what I am really – a team player rather than someone who would flourish
independently.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute, but I have to accept that you’re saying no and move on. I’m gutted though.”

“Don’t be. Things’ll work out for the best. You’ll get someone who’s just perfect for the job. I know it!”

“I’ve had lots of interest in it already, and I haven’t even advertised the post – but it’s you I wanted. Anyway, no point in going on about that anymore! I was
thinking about having a party here on Halloween? As it’s your birthday and mine is two days before we can celebrate together. What do you think?”

“Sounds good. Can I bring a friend?”

“Bring as many friends as you like. I’ve a few of my own pals staying but I can sleep an extra five or six. Even more, if they’re happy to sleep on a sofa or in a sleeping bag
on the floor.”

“Great. I’ll let you know nearer the time how many are coming. It’ll be like the old days with you boasting about being a year and two days older than me.”

“Not a boast any longer, Kate. It’s good to be the younger one at this age. We’ll have good craic at the party. Fancy dress, remember!”

It could be fun, I thought as I made a note in my diary to tell Ella and James. I hadn’t been looking forward to hitting forty-five and becoming well and truly middle-aged but now I had
something to look forward to.

T
he next two weeks were spent getting back into my old routine of planning my classes and going for a daily half-hour walk along the prom or
occasionally in Barna woods where I would find a space to sit in quiet meditation. I’d become strangely fond of the woods since that day spent with Geoff and I thought about him often. I had
to keep reminding myself that I’d built up a fantasy in my head of who I thought he was, since the reality was obviously so different. He’d sent texts and emails which I’d chosen
to delete in case I was tempted to read them and fall for whatever line he was choosing to spin. I was curious and it killed me to block him. But I had to stand firm after his obvious deception. I
was still beating up on myself for having been such a romantic fool.