And in this regard, Enya truly envied her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A march was now required for Enya to make the train, not that it mattered; she was glad that she’d been there to let Holly in, to make her feel welcome. She decided not to tell Aiden about her visitor, not today, anyway.
Her train was on the platform. She ran to avoid missing it and climbed aboard, a little short of breath, out of puff, yet with a sense of relief. It was everything she tried to avoid about travel; cutting it so fine, she now had to meander through the crowded walkways, sidestepping backpacks, suitcases and the protruding legs of those inconsiderate enough not to sit in a more compact manner. Her preference was always to arrive early, choose a window seat, adjust her clothing, take a deep breath, and familiarise herself with her surroundings before the journey commenced.
As the train pulled out of the station heading towards Bath, no more than a short hop really, she felt anxiety flare, and wobbled on her feet as it picked up speed. It felt easier to stand by the loo, resting her bum on the litter bin and staring out of the door window as the concrete of the station gave way to red-brick walls and pantile roofs, bigger and bigger gardens, then the light industry and sprawling estates of the suburbs, before finally her eyes dancedacross fields. Acres and acres of countryside where deer gathered, crops swayed, rabbits hopped, and the sunny blue sky sat like a backdrop to the kind of watercolour Jonathan would have wanted to hang above the fireplace, and she’d have wrinkled her nose at his chocolate box taste.
The view and the gentle breeze hitting her face from the slightly open window did much to ease her thoughts and meant it wasn’t until the train pulled into Bath Spa station that the string of nerves in her stomach began furiously to knot itself.How?How was she to spend the afternoon with Dominic, in Dominic’s home, with Dominic’s family, smiling, pretending, knowing the way he felt?
The way she felt.
Even before she set foot in the place, she felt warmed by the prospect of saying her goodbyes, wanting it all to be over. More specifically, she wanted it all to be over and to have passed without incident. It all felt horribly sneaky, understanding that even the smallest interaction with the man meant other things were spoiled, the butterfly effect.
Aiden, she knew, deserved more, as did Iris. This was supposed to be a happy day of celebration and planning, and for that reason she pulled back her shoulders and found a smile that would do, before waving in the direction of her little Audi, which had pulled up on the cobbles, lights blinking, driven by her boy.
The sight of him, someone familiar, someone she loved, in the little car Jonathan had bought, was enough for her to feel the rise of emotion in her throat. As she approached, Aiden leaned over and opened the passenger door just as his dad would have done. Another little thing, a kindness, behaviour both witnessed and inherited that warmed her heart.
‘You look nice.’
She jumped into the passenger seat as he indicated and eased out into the stream of slow-moving traffic. ‘Do I?’
‘I wouldn’t say if you didn’t.’ He sounded a little snappy. He had always done this, vented his anger, frustration, sadness in the one place he knew he could do so freely – in front of her. Not that it made her feel any better to be on the receiving end.
‘Well, thank you.’ She meant it, unwilling to share the agony of trying to decide on an outfit, the kind of thing Jenny would have helped with. His words enough to untangle a couple of the smaller knots that took up space in the base of her gut. ‘How are you feeling, love?’ she asked cautiously, having picked up on the undertone of his words.
‘Excited! Happy!’ He shook his head. ‘Overwhelmed! So many things, Mum.’
‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’
‘No!’ Both his tone and expression were emphatic. ‘Why would you say that? Of course I’m not! Jesus! I thought you might be a little more on board by now!’
His foot on the gas, she knew, was nothing to do with the fact that the speed limit was more forgiving here, but rather in direct response to her words, which had clearly irritated him.
‘I am on board! I only ask because you’re flying high, sitting on top of a whirling tornado comprised of hormones and new love, excitement, sex and energy, and it has real momentum. And as your mum, and as your dad is not here,Iam the person who has to provide the checks and balances. It’s dull, I know. It’s not fun. It’s negative, all the aspects that you’d probably rather not consider, but it’s my job to point them out.’
He sighed.
The truth was, she didn’t want him to fall foul of the old infatuation trap, didn’t want to see him act in haste and repent at leisure. The image of Dominic sitting at the kitchen table crystallised in her mind. ‘You’ve got to be so certain with these things. Especially when people have paid a high price for your choice.’
Whether she was speaking to Aiden or reminding herself was neither here nor there.
‘I get it.’
She watched his shoulders release some of the tension, as again he indicated and turned from the main road, travelling now up a steep hill with grand Palladian mansions on either side. It had been an age since she’d been to Bath and she had almost forgotten what a beautiful city it was.
Unsure if he did get it, she tried a new analogy.
‘Where I work at the solicitors’, I deal a lot with people buying houses. But of course, they’re not just buying houses. It’s never just bricks and mortar with an outside space if they’re lucky. Never just that. What people are buying is where they will eat their meals, picturing themselves with their friends, partners, or the people they love around a table, laughing, playing board games, sharing stories. The hallways are where they imagine their children, grandchildren or pets running. It’s never just grass or a patio or balcony, it’s where they envisage summer days, lazy nights, weekends, flowers, footprints in the snow in winter, even a BBQ with a cold beer in their hand. I often have to speak to them, these dreamers, to give them details of a report or the results of a survey, which are not always what they want to hear.Oh, I’m sorry Mrs Smith, but the kitchen you were picturing at Christmas, full of all the people you love, has actually got dry rot, and needs to be pulled down, orI’m afraid Mr Jones, the attic in which you imagined building your model railway and whiling away your retirement, hiding from Mrs Jones, was converted without planning permission so you can’t set foot in it at all.They don’t want to hear it, any of it, but it’s necessary to keep everyone safe.’
‘Mum, please. I know you mean well, but even sayingsecond thoughts, and the way you asked it – almost suggesting that I should be having doubts.’
‘Of course you should be having doubts! Not because it’s the wrong thing to do or because I have anything against Iris or even because of the whole Holly situation,’ she pictured the broken-hearted girl, probably asleep by now, curled on to the sofa with Pickle, ‘you should be having doubts because that’s how you figure out whether it’s right for you, working through all of your concerns and asking the difficult questions. That’s how you get to a point where, as far as you are able, you can say with certainty that it’s the right thing for you to do.’
‘I know it’s what I want. It’s definitely the right thing for me to do. No hesitation, no doubt. It’s her. She’s the one.’
Enya nodded; she disliked how quickly this negative interaction had occurred, having sprung from the most promising of starts. Was Aiden right? Did she always hoover up his joy? Such a horrid phrase, unsure in the moment of how to support him unconditionally while harbouring doubts that what he and Iris felt for each other might not be a forever kind of love.
