Living with Shadows (15 page)

Kate awoke next morning to find Jim had already left for work. The absence of a cup of tea told her she wasn’t completely forgiven. This peevish act conjured up a negative train of thought. He had a daughter somewhere he hadn’t seen in years. When he split up from his wife she decided it would be better if they had nothing more to do with each other. The deal was she wouldn’t take any money from him provided he never saw her or his daughter again. The whole thing became so acrimonious that in the end it was easier to give in to her demands. What kind of father could do that? He never mentioned either of them. It’s as though they never existed. His daughter would be about the same age as Ben, late twenties. She thought about her sometimes, wondered if she ever blamed her father for abandoning her. It’s difficult to know how a child’s mind works when parents divorce, except perhaps the need to put the blame on someone. Yes, she knew something of that, the need for someone to blame. For years Sam blamed her for the break up of their marriage; then as the years went on and her father distanced himself both physically and emotionally from them, the blame shifted to him. She wanted answers. But there are no answers. Things happen. People change. It’s for the best. But that’s nowhere near good enough when you’re a child who loves both parents equally. Something breaks inside and no excuses or reasoning can mend it.

There were times she asked herself if it could have been different. If they’d stuck it out, would things have turned out all right? And then she remembered the rows, the cheating and lying and realised it could never have worked. There could only have been more heartache. Right now, she knew she had to try and hold things together between Jim and her son.

At least Sam seemed happy enough. It was the trend these days to live together. Most young people seemed to suffer from commitmentphobia, and who could blame them with so many from broken homes, forced to experience things they have no control over. She thought of her own parents. At times it had seemed her mother hated her father. Yet, in spite of their battles, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing either one of them. Sometimes her mother would pack a case, walk out of the house and swear she was never coming back. They would be left in a state of fear and anguish. And then one day she was discovered in the washhouse sitting on her suitcase, comforting herself with a packet of biscuits. Kate often wondered what went through her head as she sat alone in that gloomy place among the bikes and garden tools and the cobwebs that spawned every dark corner. Once her cover was blown she never left again; not because the rows stopped but, with nowhere to go, all she could do was retreat into herself and set about her daily chores with a bitter heart.

So Ben was up to his old tricks; creeping back home to sponge off his mother when he wasn’t around. Why Kate thought she could handle the situation was beyond him.

He could not understand her naivety in lending him money yet again. It was as if she’d been dipped in the waters of Lethe and had no memory of what had gone on before.

He contemplated the analogy—remembered discussing the waters of Lethe with Kate when she was studying for her degree. Was it in a poem or something she’d read in Greek Mythology? He wasn’t sure. She never realised how he envied her the chance to go to university, something he had always wanted to do but never got the opportunity. So while he had his hand down someone’s drain, Kate was soaking up literature and philosophy and would bring him home a few snippets to enlighten him and show him what he’d missed.

Jim wondered if he ought to go and see Ben but quickly dismissed the idea. It would only cause trouble. It always had in the past. Being a stepfather hadn’t always been easy, never quite knowing what authority he had over someone else’s children, or getting accused of not having the same feelings for them because they weren’t of his blood. Looking back, he’d never had much of a problem with Sam but somehow he’d always felt that Ben resented him. Perhaps it was because his own child had been a girl. The memory was a stab in the heart and he quickly closed his mind to it.

He pulled up in front of Helen’s place. He was pleased with his progress there. Things were going well. He realised how lucky he was to have this job and was determined to keep on top of things, though sometimes Helen’s love of coffee breaks, which she insisted he take with her, could eat into his working time. They would sit and talk for hours in the day but he still didn’t know what she did when she disappeared upstairs into the room at the end of the landing. Another thing that intrigued him was the fact she never mentioned her husband and there was no sign of him in that house. Still, that was her business. She wasn’t going to tell him, a handyman, everything about her.

‘Coffee?’ she called as he walked into the kitchen.

Jim shook his head. ‘I haven’t even got my coat off.’

‘Then take it off and sit down and have coffee with me.’

She was her usual bright self, convivial and . . . uncomplicated. Yes, that was it. She never mentioned any complications in her life though there
must
be some. Wasn’t everyone’s life complicated sometimes? ‘I’ve brought this back.’ Jim handed her the DVD.

‘Ah, Vertigo! Did you like it?’

‘Yes. Never guessed the ending, though. Quite sad really.’

‘You like happy endings?’ Helen poured their coffee, waiting for his reaction.

‘Not necessarily, but I felt I’d been set up for one.’

‘But when you knew what she’d done, could you still have loved her?’

Jim had to relay the story in his head, try to gather the facts. He hadn’t been concentrating all that fully. The thing he remembered most was how much Helen resembled Kim Novak. ‘It’s hard to know what I’d have done in his shoes.’

‘I guess that’s true. In a story, everything is worked out in advance. The reader is led through a series of events that are already pre-ordained. In real life, it’s different. The individual is governed by his own emotions and will act accordingly. Love is a pretty strong emotion so it’s understandable that he was prepared to overlook her part in the crime. You might
think
you know how you would react in a particular situation but you can never
really
know for sure.’

Jim sipped his coffee and wondered what she was trying to tell him. She sounded too intense for this to be a hypothetical scenario. Before he had time to ask, Helen changed the subject.

‘I’m going away for a few weeks.’

‘Oh!’ He felt a slight sense of regret.

‘New York. It’s business.’

Again, Jim wanted to ask questions but felt it would be too much like prying. ‘I wouldn’t mind doing a spot of business in New York.’

‘I’m not sure about that. It can be quite hectic getting things organised and chatting people up for the sole purpose of getting their business.’

‘Oh, I bet.’ He held his mug in both hands and took another sip, smarting at having made such a flippant remark.

‘Can I trust you?’

Jim looked into her eyes. Her expression was serious. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Then follow me.’

She went out into the hall and up the stairs. Jim was aware of an unexpected feeling of excitement. He followed closely as she headed towards the door at the far end of the landing. Taking a key from out of her pocket, she placed it in the lock, opened the door and walked in. Mannequins striking various poses and dressed in fashionable dresses and gowns adorned the room like distinguished guests at a ball.

Jim gave a long low whistle. His comment, ‘So this is what you do,’ made it seem obvious he had wondered.

‘Yes, I’m a designer. What do you think?’

Jim didn’t know what to think. Fashion was not his forte and Kate was far from any sort of design guru as far as he knew. ‘They’re certainly very colourful, and . . . um . . .’

Helen laughed at his awkwardness. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re either into fashion or you’re not. This is my latest exhibition. I’ve put everything into this so it had better pay off.’

Jim might not know much about fashion but the words that came to mind were vivacious and ambitious. The colours, styles and fabrics were nothing short of amazing. He watched her flit to each mannequin adjusting bows and straps or pulling out skirts as though tending to a child, and felt honoured to be invited into this room to share in her pleasure.

‘It really is impressive. I’m sure you’ll do well.’ Jim used this opportunity to ask a question. ‘Will your husband be going with you?’

Helen finished tucking in a sleeve and turned to face him. ‘We’re separated.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry . . . I thought you said . . .’

‘Yes, I wanted you to believe I had a husband but now I don’t need to anymore.’

There was something imperious about her and Jim was taken off guard by the sudden change in her manner. He almost wished he hadn’t asked but at the same time was mindful that the discovery was not a disappointment to him.

‘I’d better get on. I need to make a few adjustments here before I start to pack. Remind me to let you have a set of keys before I go.’

He realised he was not going to hear any more about why she let him think there was a husband around somewhere and could only assume it meant she hadn’t trusted him at first but now she did. Nor was she going to divulge just when she was leaving for her trip. Jim got the impression she didn’t like answering questions. She had already resumed what she was doing and so he closed the door behind him and went back to work with the feeling that he’d been put in his place and now he was dismissed. It was just as well she was going away for a while as he wasn’t sure he should be giving so much thought to the way she treated him.

When Ben rang to say he had found work as a clerk in an office, Kate felt a massive sense of relief. It didn’t pay well, just enough to cover his outgoings, but the fact he was trying to sort his life out was enough. He told her he would advertise for a flat mate so that he could pay her back what he owed more quickly. She told him it wasn’t necessary to share his home with anyone and he could wait until he was able to afford to pay her out of his wages. She did not tell Jim she had said that. He would expect Ben to pay her back immediately even if it left him with nothing. Also, she was slightly concerned about him taking a lodger. It would not be easy to live with a stranger. Yet it was a two-bedroom flat and it proved that Ben was eager to put things right with her. And it might not be such a bad idea as he’d have to maintain certain standards. She was sure no one would put up with the appalling state his flat was in when she last visited. She had thought about that quite a lot, wondered how he could have let things get so bad, but now that he had called her with good news she began to feel better. Whether Ben shared his home with someone else or not really had nothing to do with her. Jim was right about one thing, she worried too much.

Jim was constantly busy these days working on Mrs. Duncan’s kitchen but having to tie it in with a few smaller jobs so that he had a regular income. He regularly went out in the evening pricing up jobs or just for a few drinks at the pub to ‘break the monotony’. On the occasions he was home he would pour over paperwork while Kate prepared lessons for her classes. Sometimes she thought he was deliberately avoiding her. She knew she hadn’t been complete ly forgiven for helping Ben and given the amount of times she had bailed him out in the past, it didn’t surprise her.

One day Sam called in to see them on her way home from work with some ‘exciting news’. She and Alex were to be married. Kate should have been pleased, was pleased . . . but thought her timing could have been better.

‘That’s wonderful.’ Kate gave her a hug. ‘Have you set a date?’

‘5
th
September.’

‘September next year?’

‘No, Mum, this September.’

Kate did a quick calculation. ‘That’s less than six months away!’

Sam’s pleased expression turned to one of concern. ‘We got a cancellation at the church and managed to find a venue. I thought you’d be glad we were finally getting married. Is something wrong?’

‘Of course not. I am pleased for you . . . it’s just a bit sudden.’