Two Days in Biarritz (20 page)

“Where’s Sam?” Annabel asked
Rosa.

“He wanted to stay and play with his PlayStation.”

“It’s going well here, I can’t believe it but I’m nearly sold out. I didn’t make nearly enough.”

“Would you like me to get you a cup of coffee?”
Rosa asked, pointing to a stall over on the other side of the road.

“That would be lovely. Actually, can you get me a latte?”

Her daughters ran behind the stall and started pointing at the box full of blue and brown euro notes.

“Mummy, you’re very rich!” Rebecca said.

“Thank you, darling! Yes, Mummy made that money today!” she said proudly to her daughter.

When
Rosa returned she took the paper cup from her appreciatively. She hadn’t noticed the cold setting into her hands until she held the warm cup and she understood why so many of the traders were wearing fingerless gloves. She tittered to herself as she pictured Melissa seeing her in this new guise.

“I will take the girls to the playground, Annabel.”

“Thanks, Rosa,” she said appreciatively. “See you later, girls!”

“Bye, Mum!” her daughters called as they walked away, getting smaller and smaller until they were specs in the distance.

By three o’clock Annabel was getting tired and she only had a few cartons of humus left. Some of the larger traders were closing up their stalls and getting ready to go.

Then, out of the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure walking towards her stall. He was the last person she expected to see at a market like this but he was on his own and wandering, like a lost soul, from stand to stand.

It took a few moments for him to recognise his daughter’s friend in such unfamiliar surroundings. He was sure it was her when she waved at him. He strode over to her stall with speed and alacrity.

“Annabel, hi, I never expected to see you here –” Damien paused. “Well, at least not behind a counter.”

Annabel grinned bashfully. “It’s my new venture, part of turning forty and doing something for myself.”

“Good for you,” he said and pointed down to the small hexagonal containers filled with different pastes. “What is it?”

“Humus. That’s lemon and coriander and that’s sun-dried tomato –” She stopped when she realised the futility of the information she was giving. “You’re not a big humus man, I’d imagine.”

“More your steak and chips!” Damien agreed with a nod.

They both laughed, pleased to be meeting on their own terms and not in connection with Kate.

“I hope you didn’t mind my ringing – I’m worried about Kate.”

“So am I,” Annabel sighed.

“I really need someone to tell me what’s going on with her. Philip thinks I’m being selfish but she’s acting like her mother’s cancer is my fault.” Anguish showed in Damien’s voice.

“I think she must be very stressed,” Annabel nodded. She hoped her guilt didn’t show. “How is Betty? I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.”

“She is in denial. She thinks she can fight this cancer on her own but the disease has eaten through most of her organs – it’s a very hard time.”

“If there’s anything I can do . . .”

Damien nodded his head appreciatively. “How is life for you, Annabel?”

“Picking up since I started doing this!” she smiled. “It’s busy with three kids but I needed to do something that wasn’t based around them and their activities, if you know what I mean.”

“Good for you, I hope it’s a great success.” Damien pointed at the small dishes again. “And judging by the way these have sold, it looks like it is already.”

Annabel was consumed with pride. Damien had changed little in all the years she had known him. He still managed to make her feel in a way no one else could.

His brown eyes twinkled as he stood back from the counter. “I’d better head,” he said. “Betty wanted me to get a special jam that apparently I like!”

Annabel nodded. “It was good to see you.”

“I hope you make it up with Kate, whatever it is.”

“So do I,” she replied.
So do I

* * *

Kate sat up in the bed and glanced at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. It was Stefan’s idea to have it against the wall at the end of the bed and she decided there and then to move it. She barely recognised herself. Had this happened because she turned forty or was it because she was pregnant at forty? 

Fabian was a rock, she loved him dearly, but the one person she really needed help from at the moment was gone. Annabel was the only person she could speak to about something as traumatic as this. She had managed to block her out in the hustle and bustle of everything else going on but, sitting on her own in the
Pyrenees, she missed not being able to pick up the phone and hear her friend’s voice at the other end of the line. The sense of loss filled her until tears started to trickle down her face. She thought she had cried enough the night before but that was probably only the beginning. Decisions had to be made, things had to be done and she didn’t know where to start.

Annabel would have told her gently and firmly how to tackle this situation. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Annabel’s face. Should she have the baby or abort it? They were really the only two options open to her. Financially she could manage a baby on her own. The exhibition would pay for a nanny and support her for a good eighteen months. She thought of Stefan and wondered if the news would affect his feelings on the settlement. He was happy to give her the house at present as she was the injured party but if he discovered that she was pregnant he might not feel so generous. Then there was the overriding matter of Shane. There was no way she could tell him the truth at the moment. She wasn’t sure how he would take the news.

“Oh, Annabel, I miss you!” she cried out loud. “Why did you have to sleep with my father?”

Her crutch was gone. She would have to sort her life out on her own in future. She felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life.

* * *

Rosa
spread a dollop of homemade strawberry jam on her toast.

“What are your plans for your day off?” Annabel asked as she started to clear the breakfast plates away.
Rosa had already taken the children to school.

“I might go into the city and maybe visit the Guinness, eh, hoop store?”

“The hop store, that’s a great idea, Rosa,” Annabel agreed. “You’ll find it very interesting. Colin, can you give Rosa a lift into town so she can get the Luas from Connolly Station?.”

“I can do that,” Colin said, lifting his head from a pile of papers that he was checking over. “I’m going in about ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Colin,” Rosa smiled coyly.

“I’m going to the gym,” Annabel said as she slipped out the kitchen door. “Have a good day, you two.”

Colin grunted without looking up and Rosa nodded her head.

“So, how are you liking
Ireland?” Colin asked, his tone lightening as his wife left the room.

“Very well, thank you,”
Rosa’s cheeks turned pink. “I think I am lucky I have good family.”

“I think we are the lucky ones getting you to look after us, Rosa,” Colin snorted. “Do you want to go now?”

“Any time,” she smiled.

Colin swaggered out to his Mercedes coupé with his briefcase swinging by his side.
Rosa was impressed to be having a ride in his car at last. As she opened the passenger door, the smell of leather from the plush cream seats hit her.

“Belt up!” Colin chortled, before putting on his own seatbelt.

He put his foot on the accelerator, keen to make an impression. It wasn’t often that he had such an attractive woman in his car, apart from his wife.

Rosa
’s mini-skirt rode up as she sat back into the sporty seat, giving Colin a good view of her long slender legs.

“How old are you,
Rosa?” Colin’s words rolled out of his mouth subconsciously.

“I am twenty-one but soon I will be twenty-two.” She flashed a smile across at him showing her pearly white teeth off to their best advantage.

Colin could feel himself becoming aroused. This Spanish girl was an absolute cracker. He fancied himself as something more than a father figure to the girl. Young women nowadays were far more mature than when he was in his twenties.

His eyes wandered up her legs again as he stopped at another set of traffic lights.

“Have you got a boyfriend in Spain?” He couldn’t control the words as they continued jumping out of his mouth.

“Yes, well, I did have a boyfriend. He was thirty-two but not with a good job. I like older men but they must be a success.”
Rosa batted her eyelids carefully at Colin.

Colin could feel his erection harden as the car behind beeped him to move – the lights had turned green.

“I think you are right,” he nodded. “Women are more mature than men and should look for an older partner.”

Rosa
ran her right hand up and down her thigh slowly and rhythmically, causing Colin’s breath to quicken.

“We are almost at Connolly Station,” he announced, half relieved that he she was getting out of the car. He hadn’t felt as aroused in a very long time.

“You have a very nice car, Colin,” Rosa said as she stepped out. “I will see you this evening?”

“Yes, Rosa.” Colin panted slightly and craned his neck to look out through the passenger door. “See you later. Have a good day!”

Colin parked his car in his personal space in the IFSC car park and walked awkwardly to his shiny office on the seventh floor. Carrie sat at a desk outside his room and watched her boss loosen his collar and tie.

“A cup of coffee, Carrie, please,” he said as he passed her by.

“Of course Mr Hamilton,” she replied dutifully. He didn’t usually come to work so ruffled.

* * *

Rosa flicked through the rails in G Wear on Grafton Street. She had to find the right top – definitely a plunge line. He would be putty in her hands before the week was out. She put a red jersey halter-neck up to her chest and smiled. That was the one. She had a smart black mini that would finish it off perfectly. Her wedge heels made her much taller and her long legs would have him hypnotised. He was certainly dim enough to fall for her. She made her way over to the counter to pay for her purchase.

The cream paper bag swung freely in her hand as she sauntered down the street.

“Hello, dear!” a voice called from behind. “Rosa?”

She turned around and saw Lily waving at her from a few yards back.

“Hello,” Rosa said with a saintly smile and flutter of her eyelashes. “I was buying some clothes.”

“That’s nice,” Lily said. “I was just looking to see if there was anything in the midseason sales myself.”

“It is so nice to meet a friendly face.” Rosa smiled naively.

“You poor dear, are you homesick?”

“A little,” Rosa shrugged.

“Would you like to go for a cup of tea?” She paused for a minute thinking that her company might not be appreciated. She was more than a generation too old to make good company for
Rosa.

“Yes, that would be nice. I miss my grandmother so much.”

Lily’s heart melted. What a sweet girl!

“Now this is my treat,” she insisted as she slid the tray of lush pastries and tea along the self-service counter of the Kilkenny Design Centre. “This shop has lots of typically Irish handmade products.”

“It is very nice,” Rosa nodded.

They took seats at a table overlooking
Nassau Street and Lily talked incessantly about her daughter and son-in-law.

“She is such a lucky girl, my Annabel, but I wonder at times if she appreciates her Colin.”

“He is a nice man but Annabel is a good person.” said Rosa.

“Yes, yes,” Lily agreed flippantly. “But I worry about Annabel. She is never happy. For all she has, she seems to drift through her life and there is always an absence of joy about her.”

Rosa smiled inwardly. It was as she had expected. There was no great love between Colin and his wife. It appeared that it had never really been there.

Chapter 12

Kate packed her suitcase resolutely. She wasn’t sure how long it would be before she returned to her oasis in the mountains. The week had flown by and she wasn’t nearly as organised as she had hoped she would be before returning to
Ireland. She did have a lot of the groundwork of her divorce sorted so that was one positive thing. Stefan was going to be co-operative. The tiredness that went with pregnancy wasn’t abating and she hadn’t done any painting. She had cancelled the exhibition until some time later. The curator of the Gallery in Paris was very nice about it but explained that he had a business to run and didn’t have any space on his calendar for at least fourteen months. A German lithograph artist had filled her allocated space in November already.