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Authors: Erin Kaye

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance

The Art of Friendship (39 page)

BOOK: The Art of Friendship
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Clare smiled contentedly and sliced half a pepper into lengthwise strips.

‘This is really important, Clare,’ said Patsy. ‘It could be the kick-start your career needs.’

‘Well, let’s see what happens, shall we? If success is meant for me, it won’t go past me.’

Kirsty eyed Clare curiously. ‘You mean like serendipity?’

‘That’s right. I’m delighted to be asked to contribute of course, don’t get me wrong,’ said Clare, piercing Patsy with her intense stare, the knife frozen in mid-air. ‘And I’d be thrilled if it led to exhibitions and commissions. But if it doesn’t, there’ll be other opportunities.’

‘You sound a lot more relaxed about your career,’ observed Kirsty.

‘I guess I am,’ said Clare, bringing the knife down onto a hard carrot. ‘And yet, I’m just as productive as when I was worrying about it all the time. In fact, my recent pictures are better than the ones I did for Patsy’s exhibition.’

‘Well, you know what they say,’ said Janice and everyone looked at her. ‘You can’t force creativity.’

‘And yet without discipline, creativity can be squandered,’ said Clare and everyone nodded. ‘Like everything in life, it’s about getting the balance right.’

‘And have you?’ said Patsy.

‘I think so. It’s a real juggling act most days, but Liam’s getting better. He’s helping around the house more.’

‘And how are things between you and Liam?’ said Janice. ‘Are you still going for counselling?’

‘Oh, yes, it’s helped enormously. We’re much happier now, both of us. I’m not saying it’s perfect, but we’re getting there.
We book a babysitter and go out – just the two of us – twice a month. And Izzy’s a lot better than she was. The malice towards me has gone. We’re quite good friends now and it’s absolutely lovely.’

Janice observed, ‘Maybe with less tension in the house between you and Liam, Izzy feels more secure. That might partly account for her improved behaviour.’

‘Mmm,’ said Clare. ‘I think you might be right.’

There was a short silence and Patsy said, ‘Well, things are looking up in the Devlin household too.’ She set her glass down on the smooth granite of the island unit and helped herself to a sliver of crumbed ham. Kirsty smacked her hand playfully and they both laughed.

‘How do you mean?’ said Kirsty.

‘The café and gallery did really well over Christmas. Far better than we’d thought. We’re never going to get rich from it, but it’s bringing in enough to live on.’

‘And is Martin enjoying it?’ asked Clare, peeling a carrot with rapid flicks of the peeler.

‘He absolutely loves it. Honestly. Ask him yourself. He’s like a new man. He loves working with people and all the old ladies that come in just adore him.’

‘Your Martin’s lovely,’ said Kirsty, rolling a slice of ham up into a tube. ‘He’s so sweet-natured.’

Patsy nodded, gracefully accepting the compliment on behalf of her big, gentle husband. ‘It was his idea to introduce the breakfast menu, you know. It means we’re busy all day, from when the doors open until we close at night. And when people come in for lunch, or whatever, they often buy a small gift or one of those handmade cards we introduced.’

‘Doesn’t Martin miss the bank?’ asked Clare.

Patsy threw her head back and chuckled. ‘Like a hole in the head. He’s happier now than I’ve seen him in a long
time. And I’m really proud of him. He’s not afraid of rolling his sleeves up and getting stuck in.’

‘So has he given up looking for another job in banking?’ persisted Clare.

Patsy paused and adopted a thoughtful expression. ‘Yes. Even if we had the choice, we wouldn’t go back to the way we were living. Sure, we don’t have as much money as we used to but there are more important things in life than money, aren’t there?’

The others were silent then. Janice wondered how much of this statement was Patsy putting on a brave face. And yet there was an undeniable, essential truthfulness in her words too.

They worked companionably, Patsy chatting on, entertaining them with indiscreet, funny stories about her customers at the gallery. Janice smiled. It was good to see Patsy back to her old self – upbeat and cheerful – though she knew that her friend would always carry within her a deep and hidden well of sorrow for Laura and her unborn child.

Janice had always enjoyed a comfortable life with Keith, but the things that made a life happy were beyond price – love, inner contentment, a sense of contribution and personal fulfilment. So too were the things that made her unhappy and which she could not change – pain, sorrow, grief for her lost innocence and a close relationship with her son. Pete had come home, mellowed a little, for the holidays and Christmas had passed off tolerably enough, but the barrier that prevented true intimacy between them would be for ever impenetrable.

When there was a lull in the conversation, Janice said, ‘Patsy, I have something for you.’ She wiped her hands on a towel and went over to a drawer and pulled out a fat, plain white business envelope.

‘I thought we weren’t giving each other gifts this year,’ said Patsy, eyeing the envelope suspiciously.

‘Well, it’s not a gift exactly. In fact, it cost me nothing at all. Here. Take it.’

Patsy took the envelope, pulled back the flap and stared at the thick wad of banknotes inside.

Janice beamed. ‘There’s one thousand pounds in there. Exactly.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Patsy, her face falling. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s your deposit. For the holiday.’

Patsy set the envelope down on the counter and pushed it away. ‘I can’t accept that, Janice. You know I can’t. It’s very generous but…’

‘You don’t understand, Patsy. It’s not my money. It’s yours. I got it from McCurdy Dobbin, the travel agents. They agreed to return your deposit.’

Patsy opened her mouth, and formed her lips into a shape. No sound came out. She re-shaped them and said, at last, ‘But how?’

‘Let’s just say I pulled a few strings. There’s no point having a well-connected husband if you can’t do that now and again, is there? Keith and Jimmy McCurdy are both in the Rotary. I went to see Jimmy first – in fact I went to see him on the day of the café opening – and explained the situation. And, after a little bit of gentle persuasion from Keith, Jimmy agreed to refund the deposit in full.’

‘Oh, Janice,’ cried Patsy, holding the envelope to her breast. ‘I can’t believe you did that for me.’

‘It was the least I could do,’ said Janice quietly. Her heart skipped with happiness – the joy in helping her friend was far greater than any pleasure money could buy. ‘I thought you might be able to have that second honeymoon after all. Maybe not to Botswana but…’

‘That’s exactly what we’ll do,’ said Patsy and she opened the envelope and looked at the money again as though she had not quite believed her eyes first time round. ‘We’ll have a lovely romantic break somewhere, just the two of us. Do you know, neither of us have ever done the Ring of Kerry. Isn’t that awful? Maybe we’ll go there.’

‘I have something else to tell you,’ interrupted Janice, before the conversation drifted too far away.

‘What’s that?’ said Clare, arranging the cut-up vegetables artistically on a plate.

‘I’ve been accepted to do a one-year foundation degree course in counselling at the University of Ulster.’ Pleased with herself and finding she was suddenly, inexplicably shy, Janice blushed.

‘Counselling!’ exclaimed Kirsty, looking at Clare in astonishment.

‘But why counselling?’ said a perplexed Clare. ‘Is it something you’ve always wanted to do?’

‘Not exactly.’ Janice wiped her hands on a cloth. She glanced at Patsy and said, ‘I think it’s something I might be good at. I’d like to help people. And I’ve far too much time on my hands these days,’ she added briskly. ‘I might as well do something useful with it.’

‘Good for you,’ said Patsy, still clutching the envelope to her breast.

‘I think that’s absolutely wonderful,’ said Kirsty quietly. ‘I really do.’

‘It’s going to be tough going back to studying at my age. But I always regretted not finishing my degree.’ Janice shifted her gaze away from her friends and fussed with a plate of mini vol-au-vents. ‘I’ve always felt a little…inferior in the company of educated people.’

‘Well, this’ll change all that!’ said Patsy brightly.

‘It’s the most exciting thing I’ve done in years,’ said Janice. ‘And the most scary.’

But she wasn’t daunted by the fear – she understood now that fear was something to be tackled, overcome, faced up to. Because once you broke through the fear, there were multiple rewards to be reaped, not least of which was selfconfidence. She would never again let fear hold her back in life. She had learned so much from her experiences; she felt she had so much wisdom to share. It would be a sin to let it go to waste.

‘You’ll be absolutely fine,’ said Clare, in that serious way of hers. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Thanks,’ said Janice, buoyed by the vote of confidence. ‘And meantime I’m going to train as a Samaritan.’

‘You mean on the helpline?’ said Kirsty, incredulously.

‘That’s right.’

Patsy, who already knew of this development, let the others do the talking.

‘That’s amazing,’ said Kirsty. ‘They do an awful lot of good.’

‘They save lives,’ said Janice simply.

A short, reverent pause followed this comment and then Janice said, ‘It’s quite a big commitment. You have to do a three-to-four hour weekly shift and one overnight stint a month.’

‘And what does Keith think about it?’ asked Kirsty, aligning the last slice of roast beef on the plate and going over to the sink to wash her hands.

‘He’s amazingly supportive. You know Keith,’ Janice said and half-laughed. ‘So long as I’m happy, he’s happy.’

‘You’re a lucky woman, Janice,’ said Patsy with feeling.

‘I know.’

Clare nodded. ‘But why the Samaritans? Why not volunteer
in the local Oxfam shop? Or help with the Thursday lunch club for the elderly at the church?’

Janice shrugged again. ‘I could do, I suppose. If truth be told, there’s need everywhere you look. But I’m drawn to the idea of helping people on a one-to-one basis. People in really desperate situations that have no-one to turn to.’ She fixed her gaze on Patsy. ‘If I can make a difference to just one person’s life – if I can save someone from…from a terrible situation, it’ll be worthwhile.’

‘Well, I think it’s absolutely wonderful,’ interrupted Patsy.

‘Now, you mustn’t tell anyone about this, all of you. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone in my local community but I know you can keep a secret.’ Janice waited for the murmurs of assent to die down and then she added, ‘I’m going to be doing some fundraising for them though, and I’ll be expecting you all to dig deep!’

The tension was broken and Janice, riding on the ripple of gentle laughter, steered the conversation into happier waters. ‘What’s the latest on you and Chris?’ she said to Kirsty and, finding her mouth parched, took a drink of wine.

Kirsty finished wiping her hands on a towel, threw it on the counter and said, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

She beamed happily at them each in turn and Janice, the suspense killing her, let out an exasperated sigh and said, ‘Well, go on. Tell us.’

Kirsty, still beaming like someone demented, said, ‘Chris asked me to marry him.’

‘He has not?’ gasped Clare, stunned.

Kirsty nodded girlishly. ‘He has. And I’ve accepted. We’re getting married at February half term in the registrar’s office on Victoria Road.’

‘Oh, my God!’ cried Patsy and she ran over to Kirsty and embraced her. Janice followed suit and Clare, the least
demonstrative, even managed a reserved sort of hug and a peck on the cheek for her friend.

‘Congratulations!’ cried Clare.

‘Oh, I love a wedding,’ said Patsy, sniffing back tears. She fumbled for a hankie in her handbag, which lay discarded on one of the kitchen chairs.

Kirsty laughed heartily, her eyes sparkling with happiness. ‘It’s going to be quite a low-key affair but I couldn’t do it without you three! And Liam, Keith and Martin are all invited too.’

‘Great!’ said Patsy. ‘Now tell us what we really want to know – what are you going to wear?’

‘I don’t know! I haven’t had time to think about that.’

Patsy frowned and exchanged a concerned look with Janice.

‘You’re going to have to buy a wedding dress,’ said Patsy.

Kirsty screwed up her face. ‘I don’t know if I want to wear a dress. I might have a suit that’ll do.’

‘We’ll have to take her shopping,’ said Janice with finality, rolling her eyes at Patsy and Clare. ‘Or God knows what she’ll end up wearing. Some old mothballed creation from the back of the wardrobe, no doubt, that hasn’t seen the light of day in years.’

Kirsty put her hand on her hip, and said in mock indignation, ‘I’ll have you know I don’t have any moths in my wardrobe.’

‘I didn’t say you had,’ said Janice, and she found herself laughing so hard her stomach ached.

‘Alright. Stop taking the piss,’ smiled Kirsty. ‘You can take me shopping and help me pick an outfit.’

‘When?’ said Clare with a grin.

‘How about next Saturday?’ said Kirsty, sobering. ‘Dorothy and Harry would take the boys. And if Liam’s playing golf,
Clare, just drop Josh and Rachel off there too. The boys would love to see them. And Dorothy and Harry wouldn’t mind. You know that.’

It occurred to Janice then just how much Kirsty was giving up in following Chris to Dubai. She hoped her friend hadn’t underestimated how much she relied on the support network around her. Life would be tough in a foreign land, even with Chris to help. And yet, when she looked at her glowing face, happiness radiating from her like an aura, and when she thought of how honourable Chris was, she knew she had no reason to worry for her.

‘Is Chris coming over again before the wedding?’ said Janice.

‘No, that’s him until the weekend before. Oh God, I can’t wait to see him!’ Kirsty made no attempt to hide her sheer joy at the mention of his name. ‘After the wedding we’re going to have lunch at The Marine,’ she said, referring to the smartest local hotel. ‘And Chris and I are going down to the Slieve Donard in Newcastle for a couple of nights for our honeymoon. Chris can’t afford to take more than a week off work. So as soon as we come back to Ballyfergus, he’ll fly out to Dubai. And then in April, all being well, we’ll join him.’

BOOK: The Art of Friendship
6.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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