The Rose Garden (3 page)

‘The world is full of bankers,’ one of the recruiters had told her, suggesting she return to college or retrain for some other type of career, or emigrate.

Gareth had been really supportive at first: encouraging when
she went for interviews, helping her to re-draft her CV over and over again, but as time went on and no job offers came, his attitude to her began to alter. Her finances were tight and she struggled to pay her share of the rent and expenses, and as her savings dwindled and her cash dried up things had somehow changed. Maybe Gareth had lost respect for her, found her less interesting, less attractive. She had no idea.

It was disheartening sending out CV after CV and getting so little response, but she tried to stay positive, keep in touch with people, tried to make contacts and chase up jobs. Gareth worked long, crazy hours. His job in aircraft-leasing was stressful enough, but her seeming lack of career focus irritated him.

She signed up for a diploma in website design, a course her friend Evie had told her about. It was tough and very technical, but she was really enjoying it. Then one night a week she was doing a digital photography class – something she really liked; and she had taken up running, as it was much cheaper than being a member of a gym. At home she made great efforts to keep the apartment looking well and to cook healthy organic meals, but Gareth barely noticed what she put in front of him, protesting he was on a high-protein diet or not hungry. He stayed late at the office and often did not return home until she was in bed. Instead of coming together as a couple, they had bit by bit grown apart.

Then last Saturday, after they’d had breakfast, he sat down seriously and said, coldly and calmly, that it wasn’t working out, and that he believed it was time for them to call an end to a relationship that clearly wasn’t going anywhere. Stunned, Kim had begged him to give them a second chance, that once she’d found a job things would go back to the way they were before, but Gareth had made it clear that this decision was final and what he was doing was for the best for the two of them.

‘You’ll see that, Kim, believe me you will.’

Being a gentleman, he had offered to move out and let her continue to live in the apartment, but knowing the state of her finances Kim had realized that there was utterly no way she could
afford to stay on and rent such an expensive place. So Gareth had gone to stay with his best mate, Cormac, for a few days while she packed up and got ready to move out.

Liz lived in one of the many estates built in the foothills of the Dublin Mountains. Kim edged her car up past the massive Dundrum Shopping Centre, trying to force herself to concentrate as she changed lanes and headed on to the busy Sandyford Road. She cursed as she almost missed the turn off the Stepaside Road, but somehow she managed to swing the car into Holly Park. A minute later, as she pulled up, she spotted her sister’s silver family car, then her three-year-old niece Ava waving madly at her from the window.

Liz ran out the front door to meet her. Kim sat frozen solid in the car, unable to move as heavy tears slid down her face. It was as if a huge dam had burst inside her. Wordlessly, Liz opened the passenger door and, lifting two big plastic bags on to her lap, sat in beside her.

‘It’s okay, Kim – everything is going to be okay, I promise.’

Kim clung to her sister as Liz hugged her and told her that she was safe now …

KIM MANAGED TO STOP CRYING, DRY HER SNOTTY NOSE AND BLOT
off her smudged mascara before she went inside. Ava and Finn, her little niece and nephew, flung themselves at her like two puppies, as her brother-in-law Joe welcomed her and offered to carry two or three of her bags upstairs.

‘The dinner is just about ready,’ said Liz, lifting Finn into his highchair.

Three quarters of a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc later, and after a plate of Liz’s renowned spicy chicken Madras with poppadums and all the trimmings, Kim had to admit she felt somewhat better … certainly less alone.

‘I’ll never see Gareth or talk to him again!’ she declared, feeling utterly desolate as they sat around the kitchen table.

‘Highly unlikely. We’re living in Dublin,’ Joe reminded her, ‘not London or New York.’

‘But it’s so awful. I’ll never wake up in his arms or sleep with him again.’

‘I should hope bloody not!’ added Liz furiously. ‘Gareth doesn’t deserve a girlfriend like you. He’s a cold-hearted shit to treat you the way he has done, Kim. You have to realize that! A decent guy wouldn’t care if you are broke or unemployed. He’d have stood by you and loved you for just being you, warts and all!’

Kim said nothing. What Liz was saying was true. She would
have loved Gareth and stuck by him no matter what his career situation was. It wouldn’t have changed anything.

Joe, clearing the table and packing the dishwasher, insisted on opening another bottle of wine before scooping baby Finn up to take him upstairs to change his nappy and put him to bed.

‘Let me give him a kiss,’ Kim pleaded. Her little nephew was the cutest baby ever with his blond curly hair and brown eyes – a real mix of his mum and dad.

‘Be careful – he stinks!’ laughed Liz as she handed him back to Joe.

‘I’m not going to bed yet,’ insisted Ava stubbornly, stomping around the kitchen in her Batman suit and rabbit slippers.

Forty minutes later both kids were in bed and Joe had discreetly disappeared off to watch a football match on Sky Sports. Kim and Liz sat at the kitchen table, talking and polishing off the remains of the chocolate-chip cookies Liz had made.

‘Do you want coffee?’

‘No, thanks – I’ll stick with the wine. It might help me sleep.’

Kim had barely slept for the past week. She felt exhausted, battered and bruised all over. It was like she had been in a car crash but with no car involved.

‘Heart sore!’ said Liz wisely, giving her a hug.

Liz had put her in the small bedroom at the front of the house where sixteen-month-old Finn normally slept.

‘I’ve moved his cot and the changer into Ava’s room to give you a bit of space.’

The room was bright and sunny, but how she would fit all her stuff and clothes into such a tiny space was beyond her.

‘Joe says he’ll put some of your bags in the garage.’

Liz had made up the single bed and put a bunch of flowers and some books and magazines on the chest of drawers, and done her best to transform the blue-and-white pirate-themed bedroom into a place for Kim.

‘Liz, I really appreciate you and Joe letting me come and stay here.’

‘Shush – we’re family. What else would we do?’

Kim knew how lucky she was to get on with her older sister. There was only five years between them, yet Liz had always seemed far more grown up. A straight-A student, she had studied engineering and now worked for Microsoft. She had always had a proper job. While on her J-1 Visa to San Diego, Liz had fallen madly in love with Joe, a tall, long-haired student from Belfast who made her laugh. They got married and now Liz had two wonderful kids, a career, a home and family of her own. She always did everything perfectly! Kim tried not to be jealous of her sister, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself …

‘My life is such a disaster,’ she admitted, taking a slow sip of wine. ‘I don’t even know where to start.’

‘Forget Gareth, forget that bloody bank … forget the past,’ said Liz hotly. ‘You deserve far better than Gareth. He was never good enough for you, Joe and I both thought so.’

‘But I thought you liked him!’

‘I did. He’s an okay guy, but he’s not really good husband or father material.’

‘But you never said anything.’

‘You were living with him. You loved him!’

Appalled, Kim remembered all the family meals and dinners and events she’d brought Gareth to, imagining him as a part of the family. She’d presumed they all liked him, but how wrong she had been!

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know. Almost three years together – it’s a long time. I’m used to having him around, to us being together. I hate being on my own, Liz … I hate it!’

‘I know, but sometimes things happen for a reason.’

‘If you say this is for the best, Liz, I’ll bloody strangle you!’ she gulped.

‘Fate plays tricks on us,’ her sister insisted.

‘Do you know how many weddings I went to in the past year?’ Kim sighed, topping up her glass. ‘Nine. Nine bloody weddings! Call me crazy, but I just presumed that one of these days it would
be my turn – Gareth and me being the ones walking up the aisle.’

‘I know,’ sympathized Liz. ‘I thought that I’d be your bridesmaid and maybe Ava would be a little flower girl.’

‘I never, ever thought about us breaking up, and me ending up alone and single again. It’s so shit!’ Kim found herself crying again, overwhelmed with a sense of fear and panic.

‘I know it’s shit,’ said her sister, hugging her. ‘I know you’re scared, but you’ve got me and Joe and the kids, Dad and Carole, and of course Mike.’

‘Mike’s in Canada and Dad—’

‘You have told them?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Kim, they’re family!’

‘Carole’s not! She’s Dad’s new wife, that’s all.’

‘She’s part of the family now – you know she is.’

Kim still found it so hard to accept that her dad had remarried four years ago, Carole Lennon totally changing his life …

She wished she could have run back to the comfort of her old bedroom in Ingleside, their home on Waltham Road, but Carole had got their dad to sell the house they had grown up in and move to a small townhouse in Milltown. Number twenty-five was now owned by a young dentist and his family.

‘I’ll talk to Dad tomorrow,’ she promised. ‘Sometimes I just wish that Mum was still—’

‘I know,’ Liz said, wrapping her in her arms. ‘I know …’

It was almost 1 a.m. before they finally went to bed, the two of them talking back and forward for hours about her break-up with Gareth.

‘I have to go to bed,’ pleaded Liz, yawning. ‘Finn wakes up between six thirty and seven for his bottle and I have to get some sleep before I go to work tomorrow or I’ll be like a zombie.’

Collapsing drunkenly into the small, narrow bed in her room, Kim prayed that the pirate room would not shift or spin or make her feel dizzy as she fell into a deep, heavy, exhausted sleep.

PULLING THE DUVET OVER HER HEAD, KIM TRIED TO IGNORE THE
noises from the bedroom next door. She glanced at her phone. It was barely 7 a.m. and already both kids were wide awake. She could hear ‘Old Macdonald Had a Farm’ blaring somewhere and the shower going.

Ava shyly opened the door to peek in at her.

‘Ssssh, let’s leave Kim alone – she needs to sleep,’ whispered Liz, grabbing her daughter’s hand and taking her downstairs to have breakfast.

Turning over, Kim closed her eyes and tried to pretend that she was asleep in her own bed and that Gareth was busy making some Nespresso coffee for them in the kitchen. When she woke four hours later, the house was quiet, absolutely deadly silent, with everyone gone. She felt awful, dehydrated and hungover as hell as she went to the bathroom and then downstairs.

Liz and Joe had both gone to work and the kids were at the crèche where they were minded. The remnants of breakfast lay scattered on the kitchen table and, as she made some toast, she automatically began to clear up the mess. She checked her phone and emails to see if there were any messages from Gareth … but nothing. The silence was oppressive, so she flicked on the TV in the far corner as she sat down to eat. She spent the next hour watching
Cash in the Attic
as she drank mug after mug of coffee and got through almost half a sliced pan toasted and covered with chocolate spread.

Then, after a long shower, she got dressed. She pulled on her jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt and sleeveless zip-up navy jacket. She looked wrecked, circles under her eyes, a huge spot on her chin – brought on by sheer stress – and her brown hair all split ends, as she couldn’t afford to get it cut for another few weeks. She was almost out of perfume and stole a little of Liz’s Acqua di Giò.

Getting out her laptop she began to trawl through the online jobs section of the
Irish Times
and also the job and career sites she had registered with.

Nothing. Today absolutely zilch …

Sipping her coffee, she looked out at the houses and could see that most of the driveways were now empty, family cars gone, windows shut. The kids in the road were all gone to school or crèche. The place was like a morgue, except for a young Filipino nanny who was laughing and talking on a cell phone while pushing a baby in a buggy towards the house at the bottom of the road. She’d go crazy living in a place like this. She didn’t know how Liz stuck it.

Making another mug of coffee, she went and sat in front of the TV, torn between an old episode of
House
or
Come Dine with Me
, where the guests were almost coming to blows across the dinner table.

Evie phoned her and spent half an hour patiently listening to her talking about Gareth. The two of them arranged to meet up next week for lunch.

‘My treat,’ insisted her friend, who knew she was absolutely skint.

Then Liz called.

‘Have you talked to Dad yet?’

‘Can’t you tell him?’ Kim begged. ‘Please.’

‘No deal – you have to tell him yourself!’

Since there was utterly no point trying to have a long conversation with her dad on the phone, she texted him to tell him she was calling over to see him.

Her father’s silver Audi was parked on the neat, cobble-lock driveway at the front of the townhouse. He opened the door
almost the minute she rang the bell. She’d seen him only two weeks ago, when he’d treated her to lunch and tried to encourage her to consider going back and doing a postgraduate degree in university. The fact that so many postgraduates were still struggling didn’t seem to register with him.

‘Hello, Kim – what a lovely surprise!’

At sixty-three years of age Bill O’Reilly was still a very handsome man, tall and grey-haired, wearing navy trousers and a classic white shirt with pale-blue cashmere jumper.