Love Letters (42 page)

‘I’d need to go on a course for copy-editing, wouldn’t I?’

He nodded. ‘Possibly, but you could do it by mail order.’

She laughed. ‘Don’t you mean by correspondence?’

‘As near the same thing as makes no difference.’

Her moment of levity vanished. ‘I’ve just thought of something. If I’ve been living in your holiday cottage say for . . .’

‘Three months.’

‘And if I’ve made any friends, I won’t want to uproot myself again. Is there likely to be anywhere to live in Bally— what you said? Or is it just a holiday place?’

‘Oh no. It’s also full of commuters. Lots of young families live there. It’s a great place. It has a real buzz to it.’

‘It sounds brilliant!’

‘So you’ll come?’ Gerald seemed eager.

‘Well, what’s to stop me? And if there’s a house thrown in – well.’ She smiled reflectively. ‘This morning I was about to be jobless and homeless and now both seem to be sorted out, in the best way possible.’

‘Oh, good girl,’ said Eleanora who Laura now suspected might have been listening to a good bit of the conversation. ‘You’re sounding really positive now. Shall we have a bottle of champagne to celebrate? Waiter!’

‘I hope it’s not all too good to be true,’ said Laura to Monica on the phone three weeks later. She’d already thrashed out all the pros and cons with Fenella and Rupert and there seemed to be more of the former than the latter. This was the first time she’d had a chance to run it all past Monica, who’d been on tour. ‘The thing is, while I’m living rent-free I can decide if I like it over there, and if I don’t, well, I can find something back in England. Now I’ve done that copy-editing course Eleanora arranged for me, I could get work here, possibly.’

‘You have been busy since I’ve been away.’ Monica was impressed. ‘When did you do that?’

‘Last week. It was only for two days, although they were quite intensive. I feel I’ve learnt a useful skill. I stayed with Eleanora and I’m surprised I’ve got any liver left, frankly, the amount we drank. I’d totter in through the door, she’d give me a huge whisky, then I’d fall asleep until suppertime. Then we’d have wine.’

Monica laughed. ‘Well, I’m definitely coming with you to check it all out. Seamus is on tour – he’s so much more confident these days since that reading. Anyway, if you’re going to live in some godforsaken island, bloody miles away, I want to make sure it’s not just some hole in the hedge.’

‘Mon, this is Ireland we’re talking about! You love Ireland!’

Monica’s anxiety subsided. ‘I know I do, but I’m going to miss you.’

‘And I’m going to miss you! And everyone! It is all quite scary for someone like me.’

Now Laura was revealing her nerves Monica felt she could afford to be reassuring. ‘Oh, you’ll be fine!’

‘I know I will when I get there it’s just the going part.’ She paused, sounding a little plaintive. ‘You can come and stay as often as you like.’

‘And I will! And we’ll drive over there together. But we must have a farewell party before you go.’ She paused. ‘Have you heard from Dermot?’

Somehow she didn’t want to tell Monica about the unanswered calls.

‘Of course I haven’t. Why would I? I don’t even want to hear from him!’

‘Sweetie, this is me, Monica, you’re talking to. You don’t have to pretend.’

‘I’m not pretending anything! I don’t want to speak to him. I will admit to you that I’m in love with him, but he’s not in love with me, he never was. Everything we did was just a wonderful, passing, temporary thing. Speaking to him would only make it worse. I’ve just got to get over it, and I’ll do that better if I don’t have any contact with him.’

She’d had a hard time convincing Eleanora that she wasn’t to divulge her address or land line or her new mobile number – she’d changed it just in case – or anything to Dermot, especially as he’d already been trying to reach Laura through her. But she had eventually managed it by confiding in her. Eleanora had obviously led an exciting romantic life and the scene in the shop with Bridget was somewhat familiar to her. After that she said, ‘Fine. I absolutely understand and I won’t say a word.’

And Fen was on board too, although she just thought it was because Laura didn’t want to get roped into any more slave labour as far as Dermot was concerned.

Monica was silent for a bit. ‘OK. I do see your point. Now, what shall we do for a farewell party?’

‘Well, I would really like to do something for Fenella and Rupert. I thought about a picnic. We can have it in the grounds so we’re not too far from cover if the weather lets us down. They’ve got a lovely patch of meadow by a stream. It would be perfect.’

‘Oh, I’ll help you and Grant will probably, too. There’s a shop near me that does brilliant pork pies.’

‘And I thought I’d order some sausage rolls and bits and pieces from Sarah’s Catering Ladies – the ones that did the food for the festival dinner party. Then we just need some bread, a bit of salad and some strawberries or something.’

‘And champagne. I can’t wait.’

The weather didn’t let them down. A small gathering made their way down from the house carrying rugs, cool bags, chairs, cushions and bottles. Rupert insisted on bringing a mini barbecue down to the water’s edge and he and Hugo cooked lamb chops, sausages and steaks. Despite it also being a thank you to Fen and Rupert, they’d insisted on organising most of it themselves. Henry, Laura’s old boss from the bookshop, and Eleanora were the only ones allowed steamer chairs, whence they presided over the proceedings and gossiped about the book world, enjoying themselves hugely.

Fenella, Monica, Grant and Laura became a little nostalgic towards the end as they talked about the festival and how much fun they’d had.

‘Of course, we’ve forgotten how much hard work it was,’ said Sarah, who was less emotional, ‘but I think you should definitely do it again next year, Fen.’

‘Only if Laura agrees to come and run it,’ insisted Fenella, dipping a strawberry in a bowl of cream and eating it.

‘Oh I will!’ Laura said, this time with genuine enthusiasm. ‘After all, we’ve learnt so much from doing it this time, it would be nice to use the experience.’

‘So what would you do differently?’ asked Grant.

Laura lay back and closed her eyes for a few minutes. ‘I can’t think of anything really.’

‘It would be better if the star act hadn’t been so elusive,’ said Monica, ‘but in a way that added to the fun.’

‘I thought we weren’t supposed to mention the D word,’ said Grant.

‘No one did, until just now,’ said Monica, pushing Grant’s elbow and causing him to spill his mug of tea.

‘It’s all right,’ said Laura. ‘He is the elephant in the room, after all.’

‘Jaysus,’ said Monica, putting on her best brogue, ‘I’ve heard you call him a lot of things, but never an elephant before.’

It was a wonderful afternoon and Laura felt sad when it was time to leave, but she was soon off on her own adventure and everyone had promised to keep in touch.

Two weeks after the picnic, Laura and Monica set off from Somerby to Ireland. They were going to travel to Fishguard on the daytime ferry, spend a night in a bed and breakfast on their arrival, and then set off again in the morning. They planned to reach Ballymolloy in the afternoon.

‘I’m so glad you’re coming with me,’ said Laura as they turned out of the drive into the road. They were in Monica’s VW Beetle again, Laura having sold her car. She felt it was a sign that she was committed to making her new life in Ireland work and she wouldn’t really need one over there. She went on, ‘Now it’s actually happening, I’m really nervous.’ She paused. ‘I haven’t lived in many places in my life.’

‘It’s a big step for anyone,’ agreed Monica.

‘I know! I mean, it’s more like emigrating than moving.’

‘What do you parents think about it all?’ asked Monica after a suitable pause.

‘Full of their usual lack of enthusiasm for yet another of my madcap schemes,’ Laura said dryly. ‘I do feel a bit guilty about them actually. I meant to go over and visit them but there just wasn’t time, what with the course and everything. And Fen and Rupert needed a bit of help with a wedding and after all they’ve done for me, it seemed the least I could do. I’ll come back and see them when I’m settled in and can reassure them a bit. But this suited Gerald best. He’s got lots of work waiting for me, apparently.’

‘Your parents should be thrilled for you,’ said Monica indignantly. ‘It’s your ideal job.’

‘I know. But they don’t do “thrilled”. And they worry about it being part-time, and freelance, and in another country. All that stuff. It’s only natural.’ Although she found her parents intensely negative and irritating, Laura was aware a lot of it was caused by genuine concern, and she didn’t want others to think badly of them.

‘Well, I’m thrilled even if I will miss you.’

‘We haven’t known each other long, have we? And yet I feel we’ve been best friends all our lives. I’m going to miss you terribly.’

‘It’s because we were girls on the razz in Ireland all those months ago. It bonded us. And now we’re going to be on the razz in Ireland again!’

Laura laughed gently. ‘I wonder whether, if I knew then what I know now, I’d have “razzed” quite so much.’ But only a moment’s thought told her that despite everything she regretted nothing.

Dermot seemed to fill her every waking thought, even when she was concentrating on something quite different, and knowing that she might never see him again was intensely painful. But less painful, she decided, than seeing him while knowing he would never be hers. And she wouldn’t turn the clock back: the pain she was now going through regarding Dermot was worth it. She truly believed she was happier to have known Dermot and be left with possibly a lifetime of heartbreak, than to be living a more contented life without the memories of that mad, ecstatic time.

‘It was great,’ said Monica, also pensive. ‘For both of us. I’m just sorry it hasn’t—’

‘It’s OK. It wasn’t destined to “work out”.’ She chuckled. ‘Can you really see me married to a great literary lion like Dermot? Nor can I!’

Monica said something with her head turned away which sounded a bit like, ‘I can, actually.’

Laura ignored this.

‘You know,’ said Monica, sounding tired and not just because they’d been travelling for what felt like hours. ‘I always thought those jokes about Irishmen saying, “You can’t get there from here” were just jokes! But they’re horribly real!’

‘We’re here now, thanks to Gerald. Our call to him got us back on the right road. It’s just a matter of finding the house, which shouldn’t be too difficult.’

‘I hope to God this house of yours has the electrics done, or I’m checking in to the nearest hotel. And taking you with me.’

The house definitely had had its electrics done, as all the lights were on when they finally found it and pulled up outside. The door opened and Gerald stood there to welcome them.

‘Hello! How was your journey? I wanted to be here when you arrived, to make sure everything was all right. Besides, Cara – that’s my wife – insisted. Said it was only fair.’

Warmed by his concern, Laura kissed his cheek and introduced Monica. ‘She came with me—’

‘Just to see she wasn’t living in a sheep pen or something,’ Monica finished for her with a smile.

‘It’s not that bad although there are some floors still up and the kitchen’s not finished yet,’ said Gerald. ‘Come in while I bring your bags. When you’re a bit settled, we’ll go out for dinner.’

‘Well,’ said Monica some hours later, when they were back in the house, ‘I think you’ve fallen on your feet here. And Gerald is sweet! Imagine! Coming all the way from Dublin when he could have just left the key with a neighbour and let you sort yourself out!’

‘It was kind.’ Laura flicked the switch on the kettle. The kitchen may not have been finished, but it was going to be very well equipped eventually. ‘He has another cottage here he wanted to check out, so he didn’t come all the way from Dublin just to welcome me.’ Still, Laura had been very touched.

‘And don’t forget he’s arranged a little drinks party on Sunday so you can meet some of the neighbours.’

‘That certainly is kind. Do you want tea? Or hot chocolate? I’m not sure I want anything now I’ve boiled the kettle. I think I’ll just fall into bed.’

‘Mm, me too. It’s been a long day. Fun though.’

‘Yes,’ said Laura. ‘A bit of a big day, but definitely fun.’

It was difficult saying goodbye to Monica early on Monday morning – she was flying off to visit Seamus, on tour in Germany – but not as hard as it might have been had Gerald not been so thoughtful. She stood on the doorstep, sensing a hint of autumn in the air, waving her friend off in the taxi. She couldn’t help remembering another trip to the airport in a taxi, and she fought back her melancholy with an effort.

But Gerald had made things as easy as possible. Apart from greeting her and Monica, and arranging a party so she could meet her neighbours (which Monica had agreed had been a ‘gas’), he had also left her with quite a lot of work. It was this pile of Jiffy bags, lurking in a corner, that stopped Laura slumping into a heap; it was her new job, she had to get on with it. And she wanted to – she felt ready for the challenge. As soon as she’d waved Monica off, she went to the room she and Gerald had designated her study, and had a look at the pile.

Gerald had admitted that he’d been neglecting his slush pile, waiting for her to come. Her first job was to go through everything, decide if there was any merit in any of it, and write a report on anything she liked. Although she’d spent enough time with Eleanora to know that slush piles rarely threw up anything interesting, she couldn’t help a slight feeling of excitement as she picked up the first parcel. She had found her scissors and was attacking the staples that held it together when there was a ring at the back door, swiftly followed by a cheery ‘Halloo!’