He loved it best when they were alone. That was love, true love.
6
Meg
The man on the radio said it was going to be the hottest week the country had seen in several years.
Too hot, he implied.
Stu had stayed over the night before and they’d both woken in the middle of the night, sweating in a tangle of sheets.
‘I’ll get us some ice water,’ Stu had said, after he’d leaned over and kissed her very gently on one shoulder.
Meg had sighed voluptuously. The old Stu was always too hungover to do things like get ice water in the middle of the night. The new improved version was happy to prove how different he was.
At first, Meg had thought that people couldn’t change but she knew better now. He really was a different man.
Stu came back with water and a small towel which he’d soaked in cool water.
‘You are a genius,’ Meg said, sitting up and mopping her face and décolletage with the towel.
‘I wish,’ he replied, getting back into bed and sipping his water. ‘Is it worth installing air conditioning here?’
Meg’s railway cottage on the hill in Killiney had the master bedroom in the converted attic and in summer it was unbearably hot. After the wedding and honeymoon, Stu was moving from his house into hers: their first time living together since they’d left the Sorrento.
‘I couldn’t afford air con,’ Meg said, ‘but when there are two of us, we might be able to.’
Inside, she’d felt a smile unfurl in her, like a flower in the sun. Together, again. Meg knew her daughters had misgivings about this wedding but she didn’t. She wanted to be with Stu again, despite all that had gone before.
She’d known true loneliness. She knew she didn’t want to live like that anymore.
Eleven-thirty was an OK time for everyone to meet at the hotel, Meg had decided, even Indy, who had another early morning shift but said she’d be off by eleven because she’d done a shift swap. She’d brought coffees and pastries for everyone as it was too late for breakfast but too early for lunch.
By the time she and Vonnie arrived at the hotel, Vonnie was already halfway through her pastry and was covered in croissant flakes.
Meg, who fought a hard battle to stay away from fatty things, felt hungry but flattened the feeling.
‘Isn’t this exciting,’ Vonnie was saying, wildly excited with the day.
Savannah, eyes hidden behind sunglasses and clad in very dull taupe trousers and a white shirt buttoned up to the neck, took hers with pleasure.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ she said, a sweet smile on her small face.
Meg felt her motherly instincts prickle, as they often did around Savannah. Which was ridiculous, obviously.
Savannah was thirty-seven, a mother, a successful businesswoman. So why did Meg feel the urge to throw her arms around her daughter? She felt silly. It was the wedding, making her feel overly emotional.
‘Where’s Eden?’
Nobody knew.
‘Saving the world, I suppose,’ Savannah said brightly, still wearing her sunglasses, even though they were in the car park under the shade of the trees. ‘I always forget how pretty it is here,’ she added.
‘I know.’
Meg squeezed her daughter’s arm, and instinctively felt for extreme thinness.
Savannah didn’t tense the way she used to – and her arm felt strong and muscled beneath her clothes. Letting go of a breath she had barely been aware she was holding, Meg smiled and looked around.
