An Ocean Apart (25 page)

“Sorry, I should have left a note. I decided on the spur to go out for a walk—see a bit of Leesport.”

Richard smiled at him. “Good for you. So—how are you feeling?”

David nodded. “Better, thanks. Kicked off the flu, anyway.”

“Right. And, er, how about, well, sort of in yourself?”

“Okay—I think.”

“Good.” They stood, an uneasy silence between them, the reservation of their male emotions making it difficult for either to know how to react to the other. The moment was broken by Carrie, who appeared through the French windows, rubbing her hair dry with a huge blue bathing-towel.

“Hi, Richard!” she said in a singsong voice. “What a nice friend you have! Look what he brought me!” She walked over to the jugful of carnations and took a deep inhalation of their sweet smell before turning back to David. “That really was the
nicest
thought!”

She was wearing a pink cheesecloth dress pulled over her wet swimsuit which made it cling to the contours of her slightly overweight body. Not a classically pretty girl, David thought, her nose was too pointed and her front teeth protruded a little. Nevertheless, she had an inexplicably attractive aura. Her skin was clear and unwrinkled, belying her age, which David reckoned as being not far off his own, her mouth seemed to be set in a permanent smile and her eyes sparkled with life.

However, all this ethereal beauty was more than offset by the appearance of her constant companion, Do-die. Seen close up, she looked as though someone, heavily under the influence of an hallucinatory substance, had set about her coat with a pair of curling tongs, so that she resembled more a discoloured old powder puff than a poodle. Only she didn't smell like one. Having jumped up onto the sofa, she now sat panting, looking directly at her mistress, and a doggie odour filled the room of which all except Carrie seemed to be aware.

“Jesus, Carrie,” Richard said, wrinkling his nose up in disgust, “do we
have
to have Dodie inside? Can't you leave her in the car?”

“No, I can't,” Carrie retorted, bending down to the dog. “Can I, Dodie-wodie? Last time I was cruel to you like that, you ate my steering wheel, didn't you, my little darling.”

The dog responded by giving Carrie's face the onceover with its tongue.

“Jeez, Carrie, that is quite
revolting!
Her breath stinks!”

“Oh, well, you get used to it!” Carrie said lightheartedly as she straightened up. “Say, I'm kinda thirsty after that swim. Any chance of a beer?”

Richard glanced up at the wall clock. “Are you being serious? It's only eleven o'clock!”

“Well, it's Saturday, so there's nothing doing, and it's a beautiful day, and I want to get to know your friend.”

Richard gave this a moment's contemplation before shrugging his shoulders and glancing at David. “She's right, of course. Always is.” He made his way over to the refrigerator. “Three beers coming up then!”

They spent the rest of the day together by the pool, talking only when they felt like it and at odd intervals heading off into the house to bring out food and more beer. During the course of their intermittent conversation, David found out that Carrie was an artist whose itinerant lifestyle had, in her own words, resulted in her being “more successful at capturing scenes on canvas than men in matrimony.” Yet there was not an ounce of bitterness or self-pity in the way that she said it. Both she and Dodie were free spirits, she said, living totally for themselves in their little house down by the marina.

That evening Carrie prepared a meal for them that was the complete antithesis to the inedible mess that David had had to endure on his first night in the house. They ate outside on the deck, the light of the setting sun bathing them in a warm red glow which seemed to match the spirit of the occasion. Carrie then succeeded in reducing both men to tears of laughter by recounting stories of her hippie days in San Francisco and her brief involvement with Hare Krishna.

“I was chucked out! I mean, I thought I was so
cool
at it! Then one day, I was out on the street and no one, I mean
no one
was interested in what I had to say about reaching the higher echelons of pure life enhancement, so, well, I had these big Doc Marten boots on, and I just sort of levelled a kick at this guy who was passing—and, er, I caught him between the legs. By mistake, I promise! I didn't mean to—sort of not, anyway!”

As night closed in around them, David sat back in his chair, a smile on his face, quite happy to allow the good-humoured, laid-back atmosphere flow over him, while Carrie continued to dominate the conversation, her scatty, disconnected monologues now directed towards giving a full account of her past painting trips abroad and the “true fulfilment” that each had brought her.

“Talking of which,” she said, glancing at Richard, a sudden look of trepidation on her face, “do you have any idea when Angie's getting back?”

“Well, I spoke to her last night at your mother's and she thinks Wednesday. I hope to hell it is because I want to get this wretched conversion finished.” He let out a deep sigh. “In her infinite wisdom, she decided to put off all further work until she returned.”

“Uh-huh,” Carrie replied absently.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, it's just that, well, I'm heading off to Florence to paint for a couple of months, and she
did
say that she wouldn't mind looking after Dodie.”

Richard groaned. “Oh, God, yes, she did mention that. I thought life was looking too good. When are you heading off?”

“Well, the flight's tomorrow evening.”

“Oh, for heaven's sakes! What's going to happen to the dog between then and Wednesday?”

Carrie bit at her lip to stifle a laugh. “Well, I thought she could have just stayed—”

“Oh, not in the house, Carrie!”

“Why not?”

“Because she'll stink the place out! Anyway, I'm going to be at work all day, so there'll be no one to let her out. She'll just pee and shit everywhere!”

“She will not either! I've left her all day in the house. She just sleeps. I promise you, Richard, she has a constitution of a camel—or is it a hen?
Please,
Richard, all you'll have to do is let her out into the garden in the morning and when you come home in the evening.” She paused and looked pleadingly at Richard. “It'll only be two and a half days.”

Richard glanced a long-suffering look towards David, then took a long gulp from his wineglass. “Oh, what the hell! Okay, I'll agree to it on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“That you give me full permission to attack her with a bottle of shampoo and some toothpaste every now and then!”

“Sssh!” Carrie held her index finger to her mouth and looked round through the fly-screen to where Dodie lay prostrate on the sofa in the kitchen. “Don't say it too loud or she'll hear.” She turned back to Richard. “You can certainly try, but it never seems to make any difference!”

“Well, I'm going to give it a go, anyway.” He tilted his head in the direction of the dog. “
AREN'T I, DODIE
?”

Dodie immediately lifted her head and pricked up her ears, then letting out one single bark, she flopped once more onto the sofa.

“Richard!” Carrie exclaimed in open-mouthed horror. “That is
so
cruel! You promise me you won't make her into a nervous wreck while I'm away.”

“What is she now?” Richard laughed, then seeing his sister-in-law on the verge of rising to the bait, he leaned across the table and patted her arm in mock reassurance. “Don't worry, I'll look after her as if she was my own.”

“Yeah, I bet!” Carrie gave him a distrustful look which she immediately managed to convert into one of sweet seduction. “Could you keep an eye on my house as well? Just when you're around, that is.”

“Okay,” Richard replied resignedly, leaning forward and pouring out more wine into their glasses.

“Thanks … and, Richard?”

Richard's face broke into a smile at the persistence of her requests. “Yes, Carrie?”

“There wouldn't be a chance,” she said slowly, as if already expecting a negative answer to her question, “that you could get Star Limos to take me to the airport?”

“On my account, I suppose!” He laughed. “What time tomorrow?

“About four-fifteen?”

“Okay, I'll organize that,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Just a pity it's not Monday. You could have shared a car with David.”

“Oh, are you going back to Scotland on Monday, David?” Carrie asked, and the sound of her voice resounded out loud and clear into the evening as a sudden profound silence descended upon the table. Her two dining partners eyed each other in turn, the smiles no longer on their faces.

Richard eventually cleared his throat and rubbed at his chin nervously. “I hope that's all right, David. I actually, er, spoke to your mother on Wednesday just to say that you weren't, well, quite up to scratch, one way and another, and I thought that you'd probably want to get back to Scotland as soon as possible. So I thought the Monday-evening flight would probably be the best one. Your mother said that there'd be someone to pick you up at Glasgow on Tues——”

He tailed off at the end of this explanation, realizing that David was not really listening to him. He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Listen, my friend,” Richard continued quietly, “I'd hate you to think that I'd gone behind your back. It's just that, well, I was actually quite worried about you, and I wasn't quite sure what I was meant to do.”

David smiled and shook his head. “No, it's me that should be apologizing—not you. You've both been brilliant over the past few days, and I know that I haven't really shown you much appreciation for everything you've done.” He shifted his weight on the chair, sticking his hands under his thighs. “It's just that…” He released one of his hands and scratched at the back of his head. “… Look, I have something to tell you which will no doubt come as a bit of surprise to you. I actually went into the little employment agency in Leesport this morning and lined up a job for myself as a gardener, and I'm, erm, starting Monday.”

There was a complete silence, and David looked up to find both Richard and Carrie staring at him with looks of disbelief.

“But what about going home?” Richard asked eventually. “I mean back to Scotland?”

David let out a long breath. “To be quite honest, Richard, I … really … don't think … that I could face being back in Scotland just yet. I was walking around Leesport today, and I don't know quite what triggered it off, probably just the atmosphere of the place, but for the first time since Rachel died, I started to get everything into perspective, and I realized that heading back right now would just put me back to square one. I
know
that I have commitments, but well, I have a feeling that I've just reached rock bottom over the past couple of days, and I'm pretty sure that I'm on the way up again. So, in every way, I don't want to waste it—not only for myself but for my children and parents as well.”

He took in a deep breath again before continuing.

“What you probably don't realize is that since Rachel became ill, I haven't been at work. I took time off to nurse her, and then, really as a form of, well, escapism, I suppose, I started to reinstate part of the gardens at my parents' house, and that's what I've been doing ever since … and I love it. I came over here on business because there was no one else in the company able to make the trip at that precise moment and … well, you know the rest of that story. Anyway, it was a complete fluke that I saw the job advertised today, and, as I said, I start on Monday.”

David looked across to Richard and Carrie, who sat in silence, their sad eyes fixed on him. He let out a quiet laugh to try to break the gloomy atmosphere that he had created.

“I mean, I don't think that it'll be for very long,” he said light-heartedly, “but it'll just give me time to get things in order, and I promise you, Richard, I won't burden either you or Angie with my presence. I'll get somewhere to stay as soon as I can.”

“Hey!” Carrie suddenly exclaimed, making both Richard and David straighten in their chairs with surprise.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” she said again, waving her hands in the air, looking as if she was trying to say something but couldn't work out how to put it.

“What's the matter, Carrie?” Richard asked, scowling at his sister-in-law for being so ebullient at a time when joyous reaction seemed totally inappropriate.

“It's obvious!” she said, jumping up from her chair and starting to dance around the deck in excitement. “David can stay in my house! That's it! He can stay in my house, and look after it. He can use my car, and well…” She stopped and grinned at the two men. “… Isn't that just a great idea?”

Richard raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. “Well, it's an idea.” He turned to David. “What do you think?”

David rocked forward in his chair, an excited look on his face. “Are you sure about that, Carrie?”

“Of
course
I'm sure!” Carrie said, resuming her dance around the deck. “Isn't it the greatest idea? You'd be doing us all a favour by looking after the place, because Richard wouldn't then have to be checking it out the whole time, and the battery wouldn't go dead on the car. Oh, it's great! I'm so pleased with myself!”

They broke out laughing at Carrie's flighty celebrations, and Richard reached for the bottle and began pouring out great splashes of wine into their glasses.

“Great thinking, Carrie!” he said, picking up his glass and raising it high in the air. “Well, I think we should all drink a toast to the newest resident of Leesport Village!”