Happy People Read and Drink Coffee (11 page)

“You haven't forgotten that we're going back to Mulranny tomorrow, have you?” Edward asked me after dinner, while we were smoking a cigarette outside.

“I'd stopped thinking about it,” I replied, suddenly feeling a heaviness in my stomach.

“Are you all right?”

“I feel free here. I don't want to go back.”

“Let's go to bed.”

He held the door open for me and I walked ahead, brushing against him; he followed me up to my room. I paused in the hallway. When I turned around, I was surprised at how close he was to me. His head was down and he had one hand pressed high against the wall.

“Thank you for these three days.”

“I was happy to have you with me.”

He looked deep into my eyes. My heart was racing. He moved closer to me, put his lips against my forehead, and lingered there. I couldn't fight it any longer. I clutched his shirt. He stepped back a little and leaned down towards me. Our foreheads brushed against each other. I couldn't control my breathing any more; my stomach was in knots. His lips brushed against mine once, then again. He put his arms around me and kissed me passionately; I returned his kiss. When we finally stopped kissing, he leaned his forehead against mine and stroked my cheek.

“Stop me,” he whispered, “please.”

I lowered my eyes and saw I was still gripping his shirt. All my senses were aroused, but I had to work out how I felt. Reluctantly, I let go of his shirt and, as gently as possible, pushed him away. He let me, a little too easily.

“I'm sorry,” he said, “I . . .”

I put my finger against his lips to silence him.

“I think it's better if we leave it here, for tonight.”

I kissed the corner of his mouth. I opened the door and went into my room. I turned towards him; he was watching my every move.

“Sleep well,” I whispered.

He wiped his face with one hand, smiled at me, and took two steps back. I silently closed the door and leaned against it. It was only at that very moment that I realized my legs were shaking. I listened for noises in the house; I heard Edward go back downstairs. I smiled; he'd gone for a cigarette, I was sure of it.

Still shaken, I slipped under my duvet. In the half-light, I ran my fingers across my lips. I'd liked feeling his lips on mine. I could have gone further but hadn't. Moving too fast, perhaps. I settled down in the middle of the bed. In spite of my heavy eyes, I stared at the ray of light under the door. Then I heard footsteps on the staircase; they stopped in front of my door.

I sat up. Edward was there, very close. I got out of bed, trying to think fast about what I should do. I'd decided to open the door for him when I heard him go into his room. Total darkness now; I stretched out in bed again. As sleep overtook me, I told myself that I would see Edward the next day. I couldn't wait.

I opened my eyes and my first thoughts were of him. I looked at my watch; our boat was leaving in an hour. I got showered and dressed, packed my things, and closed my bag. In the hallway, I glanced over at his room; the door was open. I went to see if he was still inside. No one. The room had already been cleaned. I went into the kitchen. Only the owner was there. He smiled at me and gave me a cup of coffee. He was about to give me one of his breakfasts, which seemed to be his specialty.

“No, thank you. I'm not very hungry this morning.”

“As you like, but it's better to have something in your stomach for the crossing.”

“I'll be fine with the coffee.”

I took a few sips, still standing.

“Have you seen Edward?” I asked.

“He rushed out early. Even less talkative than usual, can you imagine that?”

“Hard to believe.”

“He went down to the port, then came back to pay your bills.”

“And where is he now?”

“Pacing like a lion trapped in a cage; he's waiting for you outside.”

“Oh . . .”

I gulped down the rest of my coffee under the mocking eye of my host.

“You're all white. Is it because of the crossing or Edward?”

“Which is worse?”

He burst out laughing.

I gave him a little wave to say goodbye and walked towards the front door.

Edward didn't notice me. His face a blank, he was smoking a cigarette like a maniac. I softly called his name. He turned around, stared at me with a vacant expression, and walked over to me. Without a word, he picked up my bag. I took his arm to hold him back.

“How are you?”

“And you?” he asked dryly.

“Fine, at least I think so.”

“Let's go.”

He smiled slightly, took my hand, and led me to the port. The longer we walked, the closer I stood to him. In the end, our fingers were interlocked.

We had to let go of each other when we got to the boat, so he could load the bags. I followed him onto the deck. There was a fierce, howling wind. He lit a cigarette, handed it to me, then I watched him light one for himself. He was leaning against the rails. We smoked in silence.

The boat left the island. We hadn't moved.

“It's going to start rocking,” Edward told me, standing up.

“Are you staying here?”

“For now. Go inside if you like.”

I got my footing and grabbed onto the railing like him. The boat was already pitching, and the wind was hurting my ears, but nothing in the world would have made me want to be anywhere else. Suddenly, I was being sheltered. Edward had gone to stand behind me; he put his arms around me and his hands over mine.

“Tell me if you feel sick,” he whispered in my ear.

There was laughter in his voice; I elbowed him gently in the ribs.

We spent the whole crossing holding each other tight and not saying a word. It felt so good to make the most of it, just the two of us. When the boat reached the quayside, Edward went to get our bags. He held my hand again as we walked towards the parking lot. He loaded the trunk while I got in the car. When he climbed in, he sighed deeply. He must have felt me watching him; he turned towards me and looked straight into my eyes.

“Are we going home?”

“You're the driver.”

Throughout the whole journey, we each sat engrossed in our own thoughts, lulled by music by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, a mixture of sweetness and brutality, just like Edward. The only sound was the cigarette lighter. We took turns lighting cigarettes. The countryside sped past my eyes; I fiddled with my necklace and wedding ring. I didn't dare look at Edward now. When I saw the sign for Mulranny, my whole body tensed. He parked the car in front of my cottage but left the motor running.

“Well, I've got work to do.”

“No problem,” I replied quickly as I got out of the car.

I slammed the door harder than I'd intended. I got my bags out of the trunk. Edward didn't move and still hadn't driven away. When I got to the door of my cottage, I started fishing around for my key. By the time I finally found it, I was so furious that I couldn't get it into the lock. If he had nothing to say to me, all he had to do was leave.

I dropped everything and suddenly turned around. I bumped straight into Edward. He caught me and put an arm around my waist so I didn't fall backwards. Several second passed. Then he let go of me. I ran my hand through my hair; he lit a cigarette.

“Would you come to my place tonight?” he asked.

“I . . . yes . . . I'd like that.”

We looked at each other for a long time. The tension was mounting. Edward slowly nodded.

“See you later.”

I frowned when I saw him lean over. He picked up my key and opened the door.

“It's better that way, don't you think?”

He kissed my forehead and walked back to his car before I had a chance to say a word. I watched his Land Rover take off in a cloud of dust.

8

I'd just gotten out of a long, steamy, relaxing shower. I stood naked in front of the mirror and looked at my body. It had been a very long time since I'd cared about it. My body had died along with Colin. Edward had gently awakened it last night. I knew what would happen between us tonight. Up until now, I'd thought that no man would ever touch me again. Would I let Edward's hands and body replace Colin's? I mustn't think about that. All my past feminine habits came back to me: applying moisturizer, putting a drop of perfume between my breasts, combing my hair, choosing my underwear, dressing with a desire to be seductive.

Night had fallen. I was in a real state, self-conscious, like some teenager in love, but over a man I'd only recently hated. And now, a few hours without him and I missed him. I glanced out the window; the lights were on in his house. Instead of biting my nails, I smoked a cigarette. I wandered around the room, feeling suddenly very hot, then shivering with cold. Why wait any longer? I put on my leather jacket, grabbed my bag and left. Even though our cottages were only a few yards apart, I still found a way to light another cigarette. I stopped half way there, told myself I could just turn around and he wouldn't know; I'd call him and tell him I wasn't feeling well. I was terrified; I was bound to disappoint him, I didn't know how to make love any more. I laughed at myself. Ridiculous, that's what I was. It was like riding a bike, you don't forget how. I stubbed out my cigarette and knocked on his door. Edward took a few seconds to answer it. He looked me up and down, then stared deep into my eyes. I started breathing quickly, and the appearance of calm I'd hope to give him went up in smoke.

“Come in.”

“Thanks,” I replied, very softly.

He stepped back to let me pass. Postman Pat greeted me enthusiastically but that didn't relax me in the least. I jumped when I felt Edward's hand on my back. He led me into the living room.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

He kissed my forehead and went behind the bar. Rather than watch his every move, I looked around to convince myself that this was the same Edward from before our trip to the Aran Islands, that we were going to spend a completely normal, friendly evening together, that I'd been inventing what had happened between us. His notoriously messy place and overflowing ashtrays would reassure me. I looked around several times, feeling even more panicky as I realized something was different.

“You cleaned up?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Maybe. I'm not sure.”

“Come and sit down.”

I glanced over in his direction. He gestured for me to sit down on the couch. I perched on the edge. I took the glass of wine he handed me without looking at him. I had to find some way—any way—to overcome my nerves. I took out a cigarette and didn't have time to get out my lighter before a flame appeared in front of me. I thanked Edward.

He sat on the coffee table facing me, drank some Guinness, and looked at me. I dropped my head. He lifted my chin up.

“Is everything all right?”

“Of course. What did you do today? Did you work? What were the pictures like? You know, the ones we took together.”

My monologue had left me breathless. Edward stroked my cheek.

“Relax.”

I gave a great sigh.

“I'm sorry.”

I jumped up and walked around the room before stopping next to the fireplace. I finished my cigarette and threw the butt into the fire. I could feel Edward standing behind me. He took my glass, set it down on the mantle and put his arms around me. I stiffened.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Everything . . .”

“You have nothing to fear with me.”

I turned around to look at him. He smiled at me, pushing my hair off my face. I fell into his arms. I breathed in his scent. He stroked my back. We stayed like that for a long time. I felt good. All my doubts disappeared. I gently kissed him. He took my face in his hands and leaned his forehead against mine.

“You know that I nearly turned back when I was coming over here?”

“Then you nearly got yourself torn to pieces.”

“You mean you would have come over and demanded an explanation?”

“You'd better believe it.”

I was fiddling with a button on his shirt.

“I thought about you all day long.”

I looked up at him and he held my gaze. It was up to me to decide how far we would go. That was the moment I asked my brain to switch off; my body was taking the lead. I stood on tiptoe.

“I trust you,” I said, pressing my lips to his.

I kissed him the way I thought I would never kiss anyone again. He grabbed my hips and crushed me against him. I clung onto his shoulders. I felt his hands reaching under my clothes, touching my back, my stomach, my breasts. His caresses made me feel more confident; I pulled his shirt out of his jeans and unbuttoned it. I wanted to feel his skin, feel his warm, living flesh. We only stopped kissing long enough for Edward to take off my T-shirt. We looked at each other. He lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Then he lay us down on the couch. I gave a sigh of pleasure at the feel of our naked flesh touching, pressing against each other. I felt his beard tickling my neck; he kissed my ear.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

I looked at him, stroked his hair, smiled, and kissed him. At that very moment, the dog started growling, which was a little unsettling.

“Bed,” Edward ordered.

We both looked in his direction. He was snarling, still growling and staring at the front door. Edward put his fingers against my lips so I wouldn't say anything. Someone was knocking at the door.

“You should go and see,” I whispered. “It might be important.”

“We've got better things to do.”

He pressed his lips to mine while unbuttoning my jeans. I had no desire to stop him.

“Edward, I know you're in there!” a woman's voice shouted through the door.

It was an order. Edward closed his eyes and his face hardened. He started to get up but I held him back.

“Who is it?”

“Open the door,” the woman cried impatiently. “I need to speak to you.”

He pulled away and got up. I sat on the couch, covered my breasts with my arms and watched him. He rubbed his face and ruffled his hair, as if he were trying to wake himself up. Then he lit a cigarette and picked his shirt up from the floor.

“What's going on?” I asked, quietly.

“Get dressed.”

His voice was harsh. Tears in my eyes, I went to find my T-shirt and bra. As soon as I was dressed, he went to the front door without even looking at me. He shoved Postman Pat out of the way so he could get by. The dog came and hid against my legs. Edward grabbed the doorknob so hard that his veins stood out. Then he opened it. The entrance was hidden by his body, but I could hear everything.

“Megan,” he said.

“My God, I'm so happy to see you. I've missed you so much.”

She threw her arms around his neck. This was some kind of bad joke. I coughed; I couldn't help myself. Edward's body tensed. The woman raised her eyes, saw me, pulled away from him, and moved back.

She was gorgeous, slender, with a good figure, and looking wide-eyed at him. Long black hair flowed down her back. Her demeanor and bearing were very feminine, and very studied. Her features were arrogant, and she reeked of self-confidence. She looked back and forth at us. Edward had turned towards me, his eyes blank. He seemed to be somewhere else, somewhere hellish. She ran her fingers through his hair. He didn't react.

“I see I got here just in time,” she said.

Then she walked over to me.

“Whoever you are, it's time to leave us alone.”

I paid no attention to her; I walked over to Edward. I tried to take his hand but he pulled away.

“Say something. Who is this?”

He stared into space and sighed.

“I'm his wife,” she said, putting her arm through his.

“Megan,” Edward cut in sharply.

“I'm sorry, my love, I know.”

“What the hell is going on?” I said angrily.

For the first time since the woman had arrived, Edward looked into my eyes. He was cold and distant; he wasn't the same man any more. He was even more frightening than when I first got to Mulranny. I recoiled in pain. At that moment, I glanced over at the mantle and saw the photo. I understood. The woman on the beach was not no one. What a fool I'd been. He'd really taken me for a ride. I picked up my bag and jacket and walked out of the cottage without bothering to close the door or look back.

I had to stop on the way home to throw up. Once inside, I took a long shower to scrub myself clean of any trace of that bastard from my body. I'd been that close to sleeping with a married man. It hadn't even occurred to me to ask him if there was anyone else. I'd simply assumed that if he wanted to be with me, it meant he was free. In fact, I was just a stand-in. What would Colin think from where he was? All it had taken was two or three smiles and a romantic weekend for me to be willing to spread my legs. I was disgusted with myself.

Impossible to fall asleep, so I sat down in front of my bedroom window, in the dark, folded my legs under me, and rocked backed and forth. I finally fell asleep and had terrible dreams all night long. Edward's and Colin's faces merged in my dreams, conspiring against me.

I hadn't left the house in three days. I couldn't sleep at all any more and kept going over and over the past few weeks I'd spent with Edward. I wanted to figure out exactly what had gone wrong, exactly when I'd decided to close my eyes and ears about the main topic: Mrs. Edward.

I'd forced myself to go and do the shopping and had managed to go unrecognized at the grocery store. I was closing the trunk of my car.

“Diane?”

I recognized Jack's voice. My body drooped; I put on a false smile and turned around.

“So how's our little Frenchwoman? It's been a long time since we've seen you.”

“Hello, Jack. I'm fine, thanks.”

“Follow me back home, Abby would love to see you.”

And she was. As soon as I went inside, she threw her arms around my neck. The warmth they showed me cooled my anger. I felt comfortable with them, so I answered their gentle questions and soon found myself talking about Clara.

“Do you think you'll go back to France one day?” Abby cut in.

“I haven't thought about that yet.”

“Don't you want to pick up the life you had back there?”

“Do you need the cottage?”

“No.”

They couldn't fool me. They were lying. There it was: the Frenchwoman was getting in the way and should make way for Edward's wife. The front door opened and closed. I froze.

“You've turned completely white all of a sudden. Aren't you feeling well?”

“I'm just suddenly feeling tired, nothing serious; I'll go home now.”

“Ask Edward to take you back.”

“Definitely not,” I said, my voice rising. “I'll be fine.”

I hurriedly stood up and picked up my things.

“See you soon,” I called before running towards the door.

I passed Edward in the hallway. I couldn't look at him. He didn't try to speak to me. I locked myself in my car and collapsed over the steering wheel. I was afraid, afraid of him and afraid of my reaction.

I was sitting in front of my bay window and saw Edward walking along the beach with his dog. I knew I'd have to confront him at some point; I needed an explanation. I wanted proof that I hadn't imagined it all.

A trip to the bathroom was required. Out of the question to give him the satisfaction of seeing me look a wreck. I took particular care in choosing my clothes and putting on make-up to hide my nights of insomnia.

Impossible to back out now; I'd just knocked on his door and I could hear Postman Pat barking. It seemed an eternity until he answered: my hands were cold, I was shivering, and there was a knot in my stomach. All these symptoms disappeared when Edward opened the door. A feeling of anger rushed through me. I wanted to hit him with all my might, but what really made me furious was my desire to kiss him and fall into his arms. I hadn't expected to feel those emotions, and the beautiful speech I'd practiced in front of my mirror vanished into thin air.

“What do you want?”

“Hello,” I stammered.

He sighed and ran one hand across his face.

“Hurry up, I have things to do.” I stood up tall, shoulders back, and looked straight at him.

“You owe me an explanation.”

His face was full of surprise, then anger.

“I owe you nothing at all.”

“How can you look at yourself in the mirror?”

He looked at me darkly and slammed the door in my face. One of his old habits.

In spite of the low sky and threatening clouds, I decided to get some fresh air. I walked back and forth along the beach for more than an hour. When I was heading back to my cottage, I saw Postman Pat running towards me. I petted him before continuing on my way. I didn't want to stay there. A car pulled up in front of Edward's house. His wife got out just as I was passing. I could feel her watching me.