‘How’s the writing going?’ she tried instead.
‘Fine.’ Ruby knew that she sounded petulant, but she couldn’t help herself; something about Opal always got her back up.
Opal sighed and pushed her plate away. ‘Listen, Ruby, I’m sorry that we could never seem to get on …’
Ruby put her fork down. ‘It’s not about getting on, Opal, I’m sure you’re perfectly nice or whatever; it’s just that we have absolutely fucking nothing in common. I mean this …’ Ruby gestured around her ‘… this is your life. You can’t even imagine what my life is like. This is all some vanity project for you, so you can avoid your cheating husband without actually having to leave him … because that just wouldn’t do, would it?’
Ruby was shaking her head now, and becoming angry. ‘For you this is a game. For me it’s like, where the fuck am I goingto live after tomorrow?’ Ruby hadn’t expected to get so worked up, but here she was with the sting of tears in her throat.
Opal looked down at her hands for a moment, stunned maybe, or angry herself. Ruby could hear only the blood pumping in her ears, as she tried to calm down.
‘You’re right, Ruby.’ Opal looked up. ‘I will never be able to imagine what it is like to be you, but thanks to even the one piece of your art you did share with me, I can say that there are small things we do have in common. And it’s a testament to you as an artist that you can bridge that gap. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Shared humanity?’
It was a lofty idea, the sort of thing that Ruby would usually dismiss as pretentious, but she was curious, despite herself.
‘What’s that then? That we have in common?’
‘I never knew my father either, and I think you made me realise that even though I’ve always blamed my mother for making me who I am, it’s probably more fair to place some of that blame at his door, wherever he is.’
Ruby felt calmer. ‘Funny, isn’t it, that we both ended up with jewel names, like our mothers were determined to find something beautiful in the rubble.’
Opal smiled. ‘And that’s why you’re the poet …’ she hesitated for a moment ‘… and by the way I asked Martin for a divorce this very morning.’
Ruby wasn’t sure what to say. It was disconcerting to witness this side of Opal, vulnerable and open. ‘Congratulations, I guess.’
‘Thanks.’
There was an awkward silence for a moment, punctuated only by the sound of their cutlery against the china plates as they finished their food.
‘So what made you do it in the end?’ Ruby was compelled to ask and Opal’s longing to share felt palpable.
‘I just realised that I was holding on to a version of myself I’d outgrown, and he didn’t fit with me anymore …’ Opal took a contemplative bite of toast. ‘And that I was tired of catching him screwing the neighbour.’ She laughed, but it was a hollow sound.
Ruby nodded. She sort of understood that. She’d felt the same way about all the men she’d been with. In the end they always felt like they were holding her back. Aggravating and distracting her like ill-fitting, scratchy clothing. All her best work was usually done when she had just thrown one out of her life, once she felt free and calm again.
That’s how she’d felt once she’d discarded Johan. But then … with Heather she had felt energised. The words had flowed; there had been none of the usual creative block. That had happened only afterwards, after their falling-out.
‘Have you seen Heather at all?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Suddenly Ruby felt a visceral need to see her again. It was obvious to her in that second that she would not be able to write another word until she could speak to Heather again. The sudden strength of that certainty was overwhelming.
‘Not for a few days, although I think she comes down to help herself to leftovers between meals. Hetty leaves her plate in the fridge.’ Opal was staring at Ruby intently. ‘What’s going on between the two of you?’ Opal’s voice was hesitant, as though she knew it was an impertinent question.
Ruby was asking herself the very same question.
‘To be honest, Opal, I don’t really know. I think that rightnow all I know is that I have to find her.’ If she could just speak to Heather, maybe she could finish this last challenge and actually stand a chance at winning. And then once that was done they could talk properly about what would happen next. One step at a time.
Opal was already on her feet. ‘Well let’s go then.’
Ruby realised now why she had chosen this morning to finally come down to breakfast. She had been kidding herself that avoiding Heather was the answer to her creative block. She should have known by now that the same rules did not apply to women like Heather, as they did to men like Johan.
As Ruby followed Opal up the stairs, she couldn’t help but think of Cindy. She would not repeat the same mistakes. This time she wouldn’t run away from her feelings.
Opal knocked on Heather’s door but there was no answer. Ruby tried to keep her expression composed as panic began to bubble through her blood. Opal pushed the door open and the dread in Ruby’s stomach crystallised as she clocked the perfectly made bed, the neatly folded towel, the drawn curtains. Ruby rushed into the room and threw open the wardrobe. Everything was gone. The bedside table drawers were empty too, and there was no toothbrush in the bathroom.
‘She’s gone,’ Ruby whispered to herself, but Opal seemed several steps behind.
‘Maybe she’s down in the studio. She could have just packed everything up in preparation for Sunday …’
‘She’s gone,’ Ruby repeated in a daze. She felt the pressure of a hand on her arm, and she was led out, back down the stairs and across the lawn. She already knew they wouldn’tfind Heather in the studio, but the silence of the empty space still felt painfully deafening.
