My Husband's Wives (30 page)

But she did it all – binned the offending razor and any other dangerous items, and dropped them at nursery – without having to call Madeline.

*

Annalise could see in an instant why Kasia thought Jake Marshall would be perfect for Grace. To Annalise's mind, he'd be perfect for anyone. She'd put him in his late thirties. His sandy brown hair was a little too long, dishevelled in a good way, with just a few grey strands beginning to show through. His skin was tanned, his eyes were bright but thoughtful, his shoulders broad. He was the kind of man who could sort things out. She'd fall for him herself, if she wasn't still getting over losing Paul.

‘This is Annalise,' Kasia said as she handed Jake a bag full of brown bread and pastries. ‘Don't sit on it,' she said. They ordered glasses of beer, perfect for a hot afternoon.

‘How's the bakery going?' he asked. This was a perk: since Kasia started baking, she had brought him different cakes and pastries to try out. They met, generally if he was close to Howth, but Kasia told Annalise she thought he really hoped to bump into Grace.

‘You tell me?' she said opening the bag to let the aroma of fresh brown bread escape.

‘No complaints from me.' He smiled across at Annalise. ‘Are all your girl pals famous?' Jake teased Kasia.

‘Almost! You've just met nearly all my friends.'

‘So,' he said, ‘no Grace Kennedy today?'

‘You sound disappointed?' Annalise said and she was glad they came here. She loved this pub. The Stag's Head was one of Dublin's oldest pubs. She scanned the room, with its dark wood, glittering glasses and smoke-stained mirrors. The other customers were a mixture of commercial types, old men and art students. It was the kind of place you couldn't be nervous.

‘Hmm.' He blushed, sipped his beer thoughtfully.

‘You could always drop into her studio. She's there most days painting, on her own,' Kasia said, looking towards the bar.

‘You didn't have to come and give me this,' he said, pointing at the bag of goodies at his side.

‘I did. You were very kind to me, and anyway, now we are friends. I have learned that when you meet nice people, it is better to keep hold of them. They are far, few and between – that is how you say it?'

‘Surely you don't believe that,' he said. ‘I meet nice people all the time.'

‘Well, the good ones are beginning to outnumber the bad ones over the last few weeks, but still…'

‘So, you had a…' Jake leaned forward a little, lowered his voice as though they might be talking about something illicit, ‘a proposal for me?'

‘Yes. I have. Well, we have…' Kasia nudged Annalise. It was her opportunity to pitch.

‘You told Kasia that you're making a documentary?'

‘Yes, we're just at the start actually, but already, with the likelihood of a general election, I have a feeling we're on the button.'

‘Well, I guess I'm applying for a job as a presenter and… before you say anything I have to qualify that with a number of caveats.' She had found the word on a parenting website she'd been browsing before Jake arrived, and hoped it made her sound intelligent. ‘First of all, I'll be honest with you. I have no presenting experience, but…' she raised a slender finger. ‘People know me. I'm a face they recognize.' She didn't go into details. ‘I'm comfortable in front of the camera, and best of all, I'll work free of charge, if I can have a little of the footage to put into a show reel for my portfolio.'

‘Well,' he considered his glass of beer. ‘When you said proposal, I thought maybe it was… well anyway, it's not.' Had he expected Grace?

‘You don't have to decide right away, obviously,' Kasia smiled at him and Annalise could see that he, too, had been charmed by her. Most people warmed to Kasia immediately.

‘Well, I can't anyway. I'd have to talk to Aiden. I'm just the cameraman. Production and sound is with my business partner, Aiden Lafferty. I can see – sorry if this makes you feel a bit like a commodity – but I can see how the nationals are much more likely to want the programme with you fronting it than some old bore turning up in a rain jacket here and there.'

‘So, that's a positive?' Kasia asked.

‘Well, yeah, I suppose it is. But I still have to run it by Aiden.' He sipped his drink again. ‘Just checking, there would be no expenses, no payment of any kind, right?'

‘Right.' Annalise didn't want him to hear even a twinge of excitement. ‘I can even do my own make up,' she said, holding her glass up to toast what might yet come her way.

*

Annalise had it all worked out. They'd call it the Starr Car if they could get the money. Evie fancied paintwork in lavender with a lucky lady on the wing – she'd picked the car out weeks ago. The garage name would have to go on the side, but these were all details to be ironed out after Evie impressed her dad. It was strange to think of Evie here, comfortable in this very male world. It smelled of oil and engine grease. Annalise couldn't hear herself think with the roar of engines or the spits of profanity from the garage boys when things went quiet. Evie loved it. She loved the exhaust fumes, the time counts, the flags and, Annalise suspected, she loved the speed. Her eyesight and co-ordination were razor-sharp and she was fearless on the track.

‘Dad, sit here.' Annalise picked out two seats high up in the spectators' arena. ‘Just watch, okay? That's all I'm asking.' Her dad waved across at some of the mechanics – they all knew him.

‘Least I can do. Sure, don't they all come and buy their cars off me anyway, one way or another?' It was true, if they didn't buy directly through his dealership, chances were he had imported whatever they were driving at some point. ‘So, this driver you want me to see, does he have a name?'

‘I'm sure he does, but it doesn't really matter, does it? All you need to know is that he can drive and that he has some chance of winning a few races, right?'

‘That's my girl.' He smiled at her. ‘You haven't got your eye on some old grease monkey, have you?' He managed to keep his voice light. Annalise knew it would be hard for her father to think of her diving into another relationship so soon. To say they'd all been upset when Paul died was an understatement, but her dad took it especially hard that Kasia was in the car with him. Funny though, once they got to know Kasia, it seemed to matter less with each passing day. Life was turning out well for Annalise. Perhaps not as she would have dreamed of only a couple of months ago, but Kasia had taught her to count her blessings. It surprised her when she realized she was more content than she'd ever bargained on.

‘Dad, don't worry; I'm sworn off men for the foreseeable. This is just…' She nodded towards the car taking position at the flag. ‘It is just an opportunity that I wouldn't want you to miss.' She smiled at him, watched as his eyes creased in return. ‘I think you're going to be pleasantly surprised.' As Annalise expected, the little car blasted off from the start.

‘That's a belter.' One of the older men who'd been talking to the mechanics plonked himself down beside Annalise.

‘Yes. A good driver. Experienced, too,' Annalise agreed. She was fit to burst with pride, not just because Evie was a really good driver, but because she felt as if she had somehow helped her back to where and who she was before she met Paul. Evie was getting better every day, and not just in the MG. She was, Annalise thought, slowly transforming into the woman she should have been before Paul left her all those years ago.

‘Let's wait till we see what he does on the turns.' Her father was non-committal as the car raced into the first turn and held tight to the inside as well as any professional. The laps continued, each one better than the last, until finally they raised the chequered flag.

‘Well, Dad, what do you think? Worth putting your money on?'

‘Granted, probably as good a shot as any I've seen, but…' Her Dad was watching the car closely. ‘What do you think Edwin? Likely to be coming your way or mine?' He winked across at Annalise. ‘Edwin runs an undertaking business out in Howth – still at it, Ed?'

‘I'd say he can drive all right.' The man reached across his hand towards Annalise. ‘Nice to meet you, luv.' But he was hardly looking at her. Instead, he seemed to falter over his next words. ‘Blow me, that's Evie blooming Considine in that car.'

‘Bloody hell, Annalise, you might have warned me,' her father said, then he waved at Evie. ‘It looks as if you've got a backer. Let's go tell her I'd be delighted to sponsor her.' Annalise threw her arms around him. He really was the best dad ever.

*

It was three days later that her phone pinged. Aiden Lafferty wanted to see her for an audition. When would suit her?

When would suit her? She wanted to call him back,
I'll be there in five minutes
, but instead she Tweeted him that tomorrow was good for her.

It was too early to ring Kasia with her news. She'd be up to her eyes in flour and chocolate chips. She found herself ringing Grace instead.

‘Oh wow! I'm delighted for you!' Grace sounded as excited as Annalise felt. ‘Do you need me to do anything to help you out beforehand?'

‘No, I'll try and get nursery to hold onto the boys until I'm done. Apart from that, I think I'm good to go. They're not going to ask me anything about current affairs, are they?'

‘I don't know, but it'd be good if you knew a bit of background on what the documentary is about. I think most of those presenters do their own research, prepare their own scripts. If you're really serious about it, then…'

‘Hit Google?' Annalise kept her words light, but she couldn't disguise the panic. She'd never been interested in current affairs. What could they possibly have to do with her? ‘Grace what have I done?' The familiar feelings of inadequacy began to creep towards her heart like spiders on a fly. ‘I'm so totally clueless about current affairs or politics or anything that doesn't involve fashion or reality TV.'

‘Stay where you are, I'm coming over.' It seemed to Annalise that Grace was standing on her doorstep within minutes.

‘Come on, put the kettle on.' She pulled an iPad from her bag. ‘We're going to get you ready for this audition.' They spent hours cramming like kids in secondary school. Grace gave her a test run at the end, firing a volley of questions at her.

‘Better if you volunteer the information. Work it into the conversation. Don't mention your fashion career, not unless they ask about it,' said Grace. It was comforting how seriously Grace was taking it all, as though she believed in her, as though she might actually have a shot at this. ‘It's actually better if they ask about that than about this stuff, so get in there with as much as you can about the documentary. Let them see you've done your homework. Then, with a little luck, the off-the-cuff stuff they'll ask you will be things you're expert on.'

‘Grace, thanks so much for all of this. I really wouldn't have thought of it. I was just planning on arriving and looking good. I would have been so unprepared!' Her head was spinning, but in a good way. She felt more confident than she'd ever felt going for an audition and she knew it was in no small part down to Grace.

‘I'd really go for it, if I was you. It's a great chance, Annalise. Even if they're not paying you, it's the kind of thing that could open all kinds of doors for you. It could change how people see you. You could really do something with it.'

‘I never thought that you would be… well, that I'd like you as much as I do.'

‘Stop it; you're going to get us both emotional if you're not careful.' Grace's voice wobbled. Then she laughed. ‘But, I will say this, when you were married to Paul…'

‘Was I married to him? I'm not so sure anymore.'

‘Well, when you were together, I probably hated you.' She lowered her voice, ‘I used to call you Barbie.'

‘Really? Was that all? I'd have expected something much more highbrow than that. I called you Binky Banksy.' They both laughed at that.

Grace wasn't sure how the weeks had passed by. As she stood by Paul's grave almost four months after that terrible day, she thought of Evie, Annalise and Kasia. She knew that things had changed. They were not all bad. They missed Paul; his absence for each of them meant something different. She thought Evie felt his loss most fiercely. Having Kasia close was making a difference to her, but there was an unspoken fear – what would happen when the baby arrived?

Grace went out to Carlinville most days to draw. It would have been unthinkable before. She confided in Delilah that she hadn't drawn since Paul had died. But Carlinville was soothing, and then, before she knew it, she was painting again. At first it was random things: the garden, capturing moments when the light was right or Evie sitting quietly in the shade – soon she was losing herself in the process. Now she was consumed by the energy it took to put the colours and contours on the page, the giddy excitement as the fluid strokes began to take shape. Each piece meant more to her than the one she'd just finished; each had, successively, a brighter, lighter touch. Delilah came with her when she could. Sometimes she listened while Evie and Delilah talked and laughed. They seemed to click, as though the decades didn't count. Their connection went beyond the normal paradigms.

‘An exhibition, here?'

It was Evie who murmured the idea first; as though it were a secret she'd been keeping for a while.

‘Could you, Mum? It could be for Dad, like a commemoration,' Delilah pleaded.

She'd never painted Paul. She had sketches of Delilah, right through her childhood: moments she'd captured so she could hold onto them forever. She'd started drawing Evie surreptitiously, just charcoal lines, weaved together from the furthest end of the garden while her subject was lost in the book she was reading. It was then that she realized: they had to do this.