What She Wants (41 page)

‘I’d like to stop being afraid,’ she said, and startled herself. ‘I don’t know where that came from!’ she gasped, ‘I’ve never thought that out loud before now.’ ‘Keep going,’ Sam said warmly. Hope did her best: ‘Afraid of lots of things,’ she said. ‘I worry about the children all the time. When they were babies, I had this compulsive thing about checking them every few hours at night in case they stopped breathing.’ ‘That’s perfectly normal,’ Giselle pointed out. ‘And before we came here from Bath, I was afraid that Matt was having an affair,’ Hope revealed, feeling ashamed even to be saying it. ‘He wasn’t, but I was so sure he was seeing someone else, so sure that I wasn’t good enough for him, that I’d convinced myself he was.’ Sam patted her sister’s shoulder. ‘That makes two of us who can convince ourselves of things without having actual facts.’ ‘You at least have been feeling ill,’ Hope argued. ‘I based my notion on absolutely no evidence apart from my own insecurity. You see, it’s fear. I’m always afraid of the thing that’s over the horizon.’ ‘It sounds as if you’re afraid of people you love being taken from you,’ Mary-Kate said wisely. Hope nodded. ‘That’s part of it, too. You know that our parents died when Sam and I were young and I suppose I’ve never got over that feeling that people I love are going to leave.’ ‘We understand that,’ Delphine said. ‘It must have been incredibly traumatic’ ‘Yes but because of that, I…’ Hope paused. It was hard to find the words to describe it. Hope knew that she yielded to Matt’s will purely because she was sure that if she didn’t, he would be angry and leave. ‘As a direct result of that, Matt and I hardly ever argue,’ she said. ‘I know that sounds crazy but we don’t or we didn’t. I thought that if we fought, he’d leave. That makes me sound like some dimwit with room temperature IQ but that’s what’s always going on in

my head. As if I’ll do something wrong and he’ll go. So I avoid fighting with him. I sulk a bit, mind you.’ They all grinned. Hope said. ‘We never fought until we came to Redlion, to be honest. If I got angry, I hid it.’ ‘People who hide their anger have a big furnace of rage boiling away inside them,’ Virginia pointed out. ‘It has to go somewhere when you don’t vent it on anyone else, so it eats you up. It’s supposed to be much healthier to lose your temper occasionally instead of bottling it up forever.’ ‘I do get angry now,’ Hope said. ‘I do say what I want. But it’s not a dramatic change, mind you. It’s such a big step for me that it’s happening very slowly. Matt wouldn’t be able to cope if I turned from a yes-woman to a harridan in one fell swoop.’ ‘Slow but sure, like an ass eating thistles,’ quoted Delphine. ‘What does that mean?’ laughed Sam. ‘That it’s happening slowly but that eventually, the donkey will eat all the thistles,’ Delphine said. ‘It’s my dad’s favourite saying.’ ‘But you do argue now?’ Virginia asked. ‘So you are already changing what needs to be changed. It’s not easy changing the habits of a lifetime but you have to think that you are important and special, you need to think that Matt is lucky to have you and that maybe one day he’ll be scared of you leaving him.’ ‘I doubt it,’ laughed Hope. ‘Why would Matt ever be worried that I’d leave him?’ Virginia shrugged. ‘I’m not saying it’s going to happen that you’ll leave, just that you should start to see yourself as a valuable person.’ Hope smiled, pleased at this thought. ‘This is a great idea, but it’s exhausting.’ ‘Yes it is,’ said Virginia. ‘I’m sorry, girls.’ She held her hands up in surrender. ‘I’m exhausted, I don’t know if I have the energy to bare my soul.’

‘There’s no need,’ Mary-Kate said swiftly. ‘You mean we only have to bare if we need to bare?’ Virginia asked shrewdly. ‘That’s it.’ The doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of the taxis. ‘Good,’ said Giselle, getting stiffly to her feet. ‘I’m also too tired to bare anything. Till the next time, yes?’ ‘Yes,’ they all said, tipsy but happy. ‘I feel healed, calm, wonderful,’ announced Sam as she said goodbye to Mary-Kate at the door. ‘And it’s not just the martinis.’ ‘I know it’s not,’ Mary-Kate said. ‘It’s a first sight of what you’re looking for, Sam. Most people think they have no option but to settle for what life has shown them. A few lucky ones know that they can change their lives and go searching for something better.’ Sam smiled beatifically. ‘Tonight was great. Can I come again?’ ‘You can come any time,’ replied Mary-Kate warmly.

After the Macrame Club, Teddy the taxi drove Virginia home at precisely fifteen miles an hour. Virginia sat beside him and wished he’d go a bit faster because she was so tired that she felt she might fall asleep and she didn’t particularly want to drop off on his shoulder. ‘The roads are terrible,’ he muttered, eyes on the rainswept road ahead of him. It was the fourth time he’d said it. Virginia, incurably polite, had replied the first time that yes, the roads were terrible. Now, she realized that no response was necessary. She felt mildly drunk thanks to Mary-Kate’s martinis but she’d eaten enough cheese and crackers to soak it up. At least she hoped she’d eaten enough. She was too old for raging hangovers and she simply had to tackle the guests’ bedrooms in the morning. They were coming on Friday, which was only two days away, and the dust wouldn’t disappear magically. But it had been a lovely

evening, very intense when everyone had been talking about their hopes and dreams, but somehow very healing. ‘Would you look at the size of that pothole,’ demanded Teddy. Virginia looked wearily out into the bleak, lashing night and saw, suddenly, not the pothole, but a small white dog huddled beside the verge. A terrier with white fur plastered to a shaking body, it cowered as the taxi’s lights shone on it. Even from inside the car, Virginia could see the animal’s heartbroken little face and knew that this wasn’t the sort of dog that should be out on such a night. ‘Stop the car,’ she commanded in such a firm voice that Teddy put the brakes on immediately. He’d barely stopped before she’d jumped out into the lashing rain to run back to the shivering animal, which shrank down at she approached. ‘Hello,’ cooed Virginia crouching down. ‘Hello you poor little pet.’ She held out a hand but the dog still cowered. Virginia wasn’t a country girl for nothing. And she loved dogs. This poor thing needed to be rescued and she was the one to do it. ‘Come here, boy,’ she crooned, reaching further until she could touch the soaking wet fur. The little dog shivered but when Virginia’s hand started petting the wet white head, it looked up anxiously and whimpered. ‘It’s OK,’ repeated Virginia, oblivious to the lashing rain. She edged closer to the dog and reached for its neck, seeking a collar. There was none. Still petting, Virginia got close enough to pick the bedraggled creature up, wincing as she realized how thin the animal was under its covering of thick fur. She could feel delicate ribs and the poor dog’s heart beating fiercely with fear. But it didn’t growl or show its teeth. It lay frozen with terror in her arms. ‘You poor little thing,’ she said softly. Teddy had reversed the taxi until he was beside Virginia, who, still carrying the dog and seemingly oblivious to how wet and dirty it was, motioned to him to roll down his window. ‘I’m bringing the poor dog home. We can’t leave it here,’ she said.

Teddy gulped. He didn’t want a small, scruffy wet dog in his immaculate taxi and if any other passenger had tried to rescue a roadside stray in the middle of a downpour, Teddy would have told them where they could get off. But he got the impression that Mrs Connell could be formidable when she wanted to, for all that she was so quiet and ladylike. ‘Well … yes,’ he said, looking at his clean seats. ‘I’ll wrap her in my coat and you won’t got a bit of dirt or rain in the car,’ Virginia said imperiously. There was nothing you could say to that. Teddy meekly opened the passenger door and Mrs Connell got in, the dog bundled up in her expensive coat like a baby. At the house, she grabbed the first banknote that she could find in her handbag and gave it to Teddy. It was twice the fare and Teddy stared at it for a moment as if contemplating whether he had change or not. ‘Consider it a tip in case there’s any dirt on the seat,’ Virginia said graciously. Then she was gone, with the dog still bundled up in her coat. Teddy watched Mrs Connell walk gracefully up to her front door, coatless in the lashing rain. Women, he thought. What hope had a mere man of understanding them. Once they were inside, Virginia unwrapped the little dog and quickly found a big towel to dry it off properly. The kitchen was always warm at night, so they went in there and Virginia rubbed the dog gently, talking nonsense to it all the time until the worst of the nervous shivering was over. It was a West Highland terrier, a sweet little white dog that should have been sitting in front of a warm fire instead of dumped by the side of the road on a wet night. ‘I’m so sorry to have called you a boy when you’re a little girl,’ Virginia said, looking fondly down into the still anxious eyes. ‘What’s your name, pet?’ The dog blinked up at her, as if disbelieving that somebody was being nice to it. Virginia got some milk from the fridge and put a bowlful on the floor. The dog looked at the bowl mournfully and then back up at Virginia. ‘Go on,’ she urged.

With another mournful look, the little dog began to delicately lap up the milk with her little pink tongue. Even in her hunger, she lapped gently and without slopping a drop of milk. ‘You’re starved, you poor thing,’ Virginia said. She found a left-over bit of chicken and gave the dog that too. Finally fed, the dog seemed to relax a bit and slowly wandered round the kitchen, sniffing here and there. She stopped at the back door and looked up at Virginia anxiously. ‘Somebody trained you well, darling,’ Virginia smiled and let the dog out, standing in the doorway all the while in case she wandered off. ‘I wonder who you belong to,’ Virginia said when the dog came back, not quite as nervous now, and sat at her feet. ‘We’ll phone the police and the dog pounds in the morning to see if anyone’s reported you missing but until then, we both need our rest.’ Virginia made up a bed beside the radiator in the kitchen, left a bowl of water beside it and then went to the kitchen door. She looked back at the little dog who was now looking at her with an expression of abandonment on its small white face. Virginia’s heart melted. The poor little thing had obviously been abandoned often enough. ‘Would you like to sleep upstairs with me?’ she asked. Was it her imagination or did the doggy face smile? Virginia picked up the make-shift bed made out of an old blanket and carried it upstairs, the dog stepping neatly behind her. ‘I can’t keep calling you dog,’ Virginia said as she patted the blankets into shape in a neat nest beside her bedroom radiator. ‘What name will we give you?’ The dog tilted her head to one side as if considering the matter. Virginia cast her mind back to the dogs she’d known. Her mother had a lovely little terrier called Dinky, a family pet as distinct from the sheep dogs that slept outside. Dinky had been sweet-natured and docile, like this little dog.

‘How does Dinky sound to you, as a stop gap?’ Virginia asked. ‘Bed Dinky.’ Dinky licked Virginia’s hand and trotted off to her bed, curling up in it snugly. ‘Dinky it is,’ smiled Virginia. She got ready for bed, chatting all the time to Dinky who lay watchful in her bed, big eyes following Virginia’s every move. It was nice to have someone to talk to again, even someone who couldn’t talk back. Virginia climbed into bed and turned out the light. In the dark, she thought of the evening and the marvellous Truth Drug session. What a clever idea and Mary-Kate, in her inimitable way, had known that Virginia wasn’t ready to talk about what she wanted from life just yet. Peace, Virginia thought suddenly. That’s what she wanted. The peace of feeling at ease and not having that tearing in her heart when Bill came into her head. And she thought she might slowly be getting peace. She could chat to Bill when she went about her everyday chores, telling him about her day, sharing the stories she’d read in the morning paper. She could think about him without bursting into tears and she could now remember the good times without feeling her heart clouding over because the good times were over. Being able to remember and be thankful for the good times was a huge step for her and she thanked God for it. That’s what she could have said tonight. Still, there were more nights to talk about it. Virginia snuggled down on her pillow and slept better than she had in a long time. In the morning, she was awakened by Dinky standing on her hind legs and tentatively sniffing the bedclothes. Virginia patted the covers invitingly, and without hesitation Dinky jumped up and snuggled down beside her. ‘Aren’t you a little pet?’ Virginia crooned. Dinky licked her hand lovingly. After breakfast, Virginia forced herself to phone the police station and told them she’d found a little white dog. ‘No mention of it here, Mrs Connell,’ said Sergeant

O’Hara. ‘But we’ll keep your name and number in the book in case someone does come along looking for her.’ Next, she rang the animal rescue agency and the local animal protection organization. Neither had any notice of a lost white terrier. ‘I can’t believe that someone hasn’t missed her,’ Virginia said. ‘She’s such a dear little thing.’ ‘You did say she was very nervous of you at first, wasn’t she?’ said the animal rescue woman. ‘That doesn’t sound like a dog that was well treated to me. She was probably dumped.’ ‘But how could anyone just dump her on the side of the road?’ Virginia asked. ‘It’s cruel.’ ‘That’s nothing to what some people do to dogs,’ the woman said sadly. ‘If nobody comes forward, do you want to keep her?’ ‘I’d like nothing more,’ Virginia said genuinely. ‘I already love her. I know it sounds awful, but I hope nobody comes forward because she’s a beautiful little dog.’ ‘She was lucky you found her,’ the woman said, ‘or she could have been run over. Lots of lorries use that road and at night, sure they’d have her run over before they’d see her.’ Virginia reached down to pet Dinky who was sitting loyally at her feet. ‘It was lucky for both of us,’ she said fondly.

The morning after the Macrame Club, Sam was up earlier than anyone else and was making Rice Krispie buns with Toby and Millie when Hope wandered downstairs. ‘You’re up early,’ she said, feeling decidedly woolly-headed after their late night. ‘Yes and I feel wonderful. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve booked myself on the evening flight so I can be home tonight.’ Hope stared at her sister. ‘I thought I was going with you.’ ‘No you’re not. You’re too busy here. I’m going to go