The New Woman (45 page)

‘I make that mistake all the time.’ Eilish waggled her head. ‘Dad, Luke, Lucia. I’m getting better at it. I thought it would be impossible and stupid to think of Luke as a
she
. . . after thirty years of
he
. But it’s not impossible, is it? You get used to it. I think it just takes time.’

Kate could almost hear Chloe’s laughter. ‘How’s Lucia doing?’ she asked.

‘Sad,’ said Eilish. ‘Just very, very sad. He—no, get this right—
she’s
been researching the law, but she can’t see any practical way to make the family respect Chloe’s wishes. Her only victory was forcing the paper to print a tiny addition, saying that Chloe was living as a woman and wanted to be known as Chloe.’

‘Are you worried about her?’

‘About Lucia? You mean do I think she might have some kind of breakdown?’ Eilish narrowed her eyes, thinking. ‘No, I think she’ll come through this. There’s a whole group of them, all supporting one another. They’re going to hold a memorial vigil soon. I thought I’d go along.’

‘I’ll come too.’

They’d reached East Yalton; past the church, up the lane. Kate knew every pothole. It all seemed so peaceful and ordered, and a million miles from Chloe’s world.

‘Mum,’ she said. ‘Now Dad’s home . . . Lucia’s home . . . how long is she going to stay? What’s the plan?’

Eilish glanced quickly at her, then looked back at the road. ‘Decree absolute came through yesterday. We’re divorced.’

‘I don’t think that answers my question.’

‘No.’ They were turning into the driveway of Smith’s Barn. ‘No. I don’t think it answers any of my questions either. Love’s a complicated thing, isn’t it, Kate?’

Kate wasn’t sure how to phrase her next question. They’d passed the copse and parked at the front door before she came out with it.

‘You can’t stay together, can you? I know some wives do stick it out, but I really can’t imagine it working unless you’re a little bit bi. Are you a little bi, Mum? I mean, it’s a continuum, isn’t it?’

‘
A little bit bi
?
’
There was embarrassment in Eilish’s smile. ‘This is not a conversation I ever expected to be having with my daughter.’

‘It’s not a conversation I expected to be having with my mother, either. But then, quite a few things aren’t what we expected.’

Eilish turned off the engine, and rested both her hands on the steering wheel. ‘No, Kate, I really don’t think I am. Not even a little bit. I had a crush on the head girl when I was at school. I was eleven, so I don’t think it counts. But . . .
but . . .
I think I really do love your father. I mean, what is love? I’ve no idea, I only know how it feels. When I married him I was infatuated, couldn’t keep my hands off him. I don’t imagine you want to hear about that.’

‘Certainly not.’

‘After ten years I appreciated him more than ever . . . his empathy, his wisdom, his friendship. We’d lost Charlotte, we had you and Simon. I knew he wasn’t perfect and he knew I wasn’t, but we rubbed along. By the time we got to
thirty
years he was simply part of my landscape. There’s a depth of understanding after all that time. Our marriage didn’t rely on sex, certainly not by then.’

‘Hell, no!’ exclaimed Kate. ‘I bet it didn’t—not after thirty years with just the one guy. Doesn’t bear thinking about.’

‘I didn’t mind.’ Eilish sighed. ‘And then my man became a woman. So now I’m having to rethink it all. One of the things
I’m thinking is that this is still the same person. I loved him. I love her.’

‘But without sex?’

‘Well . . . yes, I think so.’

‘You can’t be celibate forever!’ Kate was appalled. ‘No, no, no. That’s just awful, even if you are fifty-six . . . I mean, sorry. I’m not saying fifty-six is old. It isn’t very old, nowadays. Anyway, you don’t look it.’

Eilish was smiling. ‘If you’re in a hole, stop digging.’

‘Dad wouldn’t ask you to give up your sex life forever. You didn’t sign up for that.’

‘Nuns do it. They’re celibate all their lives. They do it out of love. What’s the difference?’

Kate had a brief, surreal image of her mother in a wimple. ‘You’re not a nun, Mum,’ she protested, chuckling. ‘You snogged Mr Chadwick on New Year’s Eve.’

‘What if my husband had been in a car accident, had a spinal injury and was wheelchair-bound and impotent forever? Or what if he’d got cancer, and the radiotherapy meant . . .’

‘Meant he couldn’t get it up anymore? That’s different.’

‘Why? Why is it different? If he were impotent as the result of an accident, would you want me to leave him? Would
I
want to leave him?’

‘Well, no. Obviously not.’

‘What’s the difference?’

‘The difference is . . .’ Kate thought for a moment, and then gave up.
Love
, she thought.
Love. I never really believed in it until now.

‘I’m getting used to it already,’ said Eilish. ‘To her. You told me, that night in the Bracton Arms, and you were right. At first I was upset by the effect of the hormones, but now it just seems a good thing, because it’s making her whole. I can hug her, kiss her on the cheek at least. I’m having to think again about what intimacy means. After all, it’s just what we make it.’

Neither of them made any move to get out of the car. It was an oasis of quiet; time to think and talk. Kate watched a pair of blackbirds flying in and out of the copse. They might have been the descendants of birds she’d watched when she was ten years old. Some things didn’t change.

‘In an odd way,’ said Eilish, ‘I feel as though my love for Luke had been dozing for years. Lazily and complacently dozing. All of this has reawakened it—reawakened me. I’ve had to question everything I thought I knew.’

‘You and me both, Mum. So . . . you two might stay together?’

The front door opened, and Lucia appeared on the step. Eilish immediately unclipped her seatbelt.

‘We’ve tried living apart,’ she said, ‘and we didn’t like it. If giving up our sex lives is the price we have to pay for being together—well. I think we might decide to pay it.’

Kate’s mind was reeling from this conversation, but it was time to think of other things. Lucia was already hurrying across to the car, and Kate leaped out to throw her arms around her.

‘I’m so sorry!’ she cried. ‘So sorry. Poor Chloe, oh my God. Twenty-two years old. I can’t believe it. The frigging bastard.’

Lucia looked as though she’d thrown her clothes on. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes red-rimmed. A string of bottle-green beads had somehow become caught up in her hair, but she seemed too distressed to notice.

‘The coroner’s released the body,’ she said.

‘So there’ll be a funeral?’

‘Yes, but—Kate, it’s so awful. They’re going to make her be Callum. They’ll dress her in a suit, they’ll cut her hair. A private cremation in her home town. Family flowers only; I can’t even send her flowers. I can’t say goodbye. I can’t do anything for her. I’m letting her down!’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘I looked online. There was a notice in the family’s local paper. In the death column.
Callum Robertson, beloved son and brother
.’

A cold breeze had sprung up, and Eilish shepherded them indoors.

‘Why would her family do this?’ asked Kate, as she stamped her feet on the mat. ‘After all she’s been through, why deny her now? I just don’t get it. Is it to punish her?’

‘I think it is,’ said Lucia. ‘And to control her.’

‘Do you think so?’ asked Eilish. ‘Maybe they just want their son back? They lost him once, probably never understood what it was all about, and now they can have him back in some way.’

It was warm in the kitchen, and there was a lovely smell from something in the oven. It felt like home again. Her mum was looking after Lucia. She made suggestions and cups of tea, and constantly touched her arm or her back. They were physically close—like sisters, perhaps? No, that wasn’t quite right. In the end, Kate gave up on trying to understand. Other people’s relationships often seemed baffling.

Later, when Eilish was drawing the curtains, she paused to peer out into the darkening garden. ‘We should plant a tree for Chloe.’

Lucia came to join her. ‘We’re going to end up with a vast rainforest out there, at this rate.’

‘I think there’s room for Chloe in our forest,’ said Eilish.

Forty-eight

Simon

Their things were all around: Nico’s favourite cereal, Rosa’s baby gym, books Carmela had been reading; even her scent followed him everywhere. That was why he spent more time at the surgery than at home. He didn’t stop by the pub anymore. It didn’t bring any comfort. Carmela had sent short texts each day, and twice he’d spoken to Nico on the phone. They were having a lovely time, apparently, and from the Visa bills it looked as though they’d been eating in a lot of cafes.

‘Carmela’s in Suffolk,’ he told Eilish when she phoned for advice about Baffy’s diet. ‘Bit of a holiday with the children. I’ll join them if I get the time.’

She didn’t notice he was lying. The only person who seemed to have rumbled him was Sven.

‘Simon,’ he said one lunchtime, after Carmela and the kids had been gone about ten days. ‘This holiday in Suffolk. How long’s it meant to be?’

‘Couple of weeks.’

‘Then they’re back?’

‘Absolutely.’ Simon picked up the phone. He had a list of owners to call with progress reports on their animals. ‘Absolutely.’

Sven’s expression was cynical. ‘Okay. And where are they, exactly?’

‘On the coast . . . Hello, Catherine? Simon Livingstone here; yes, the vet. I’ve got good news about Gandalf’s results.’

Fortunately, Sven had been called away to an emergency appointment before he could ask more questions. Simon made several home calls, which took up the rest of the afternoon. The last one was to euthanise a labrador with heart failure. She was a beautiful creature and had grown up with the family’s children, two of whom had come home to say goodbye. The whole family was in tears. Simon wasn’t confident in the pastoral side of his job, but he did his best to say the Right Thing.

The mother saw him to his car. She was clutching a tissue. ‘Sorry we got so emotional. It’s the end of an era, you see. She arrived as a puppy when George was four, and she’s been such a friend ever . . . oh dear. Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ said Simon. ‘She was part of the family.’

‘That’s so true. She was. It won’t feel like home anymore.’

He remembered her words later, as he walked along his own street. He longed for his empty house to be full again—of noise, of chaos, of getting ready for swimming lessons and cheering when Rosa managed to sit up by herself. He even longed for a good old tantrum from Nico.

He was almost at his front door when he noticed a familiar car jammed into a very small space on the street outside. It looked like Carmela’s. He shouldn’t get his hopes up; lots of people owned dark blue Passats. He walked closer, not taking his eyes off it. Yes—surely that was Nico’s car seat? And there was Rosa’s mobile!

He broke into a run, wrestled with the key in the lock and burst through the front door. He heard childish shouts, and the next moment Nico had galloped out of the sitting room and been swung into his father’s arms.

‘Hi there, big fella!’ cried Simon. ‘You’ve grown!’

Carmela appeared at the kitchen door. She’d lost weight—surely she couldn’t have lost so much in ten days? She was
wearing her pre-baby jeans, he noticed, and her hair was clipped up in a messy bun. She seemed wary of him.

‘Hello,’ she said.

Relief made Simon euphoric. Still carrying Nico, he strode across the hall, threw his free arm around her, and kissed her.

‘You’re home,’ he said. ‘Thank you for coming home.’

Meanwhile, Nico hadn’t stopped talking. He wanted Simon to know about the little house they’d had, and the beach, and the noisy seagulls, and how he slept in a top bunk but sometimes he went and found Mummy in the night, in case she was scared of the dark. Then he remembered he was starting a museum, and had collected a whole box of sea glass.

After climbing down, he trotted off to fetch this treasure. Simon left his arm around Carmela’s shoulder as they walked into the kitchen. To his shame he hadn’t been looking after the place, and she’d obviously decided to air it. All the windows were open. Simon looked into the garden and noticed that the sun was shining, despite a fresh wind. The neighbour’s apple trees were all decked out in pink blossom. When did that happen? Winter was over, and he hadn’t even noticed.

‘I’d have tidied up, if I’d known you were coming,’ he said.

‘I didn’t know we were. We made the decision this morning. Just like that. Nico said it’s been a very nice holiday, but is it nearly time to go home and see Daddy? And I agreed with him.’ She put one of Rosa’s bottles into the microwave and pressed the buttons.
Beep . . . beep
.

‘Where’s Rosa?’

‘Asleep. She was tired and grumpy. But she should wake up now, or there will be hell to pay tonight.’

‘I’ll get her,’ said Simon eagerly. He set off with the bottle in his hand, but turned back at the door.

‘Please don’t go away again,’ he said.

She didn’t answer him.