‘Do I have any joy though?’ It was Callie’s turn to interrupt.
‘Of course you do! Is that what’s behind all this introspection?’
‘It’s just that my parents have no enjoyment in anything. Never opened up their life to anything new. I don’t want that for me and Frida.’
‘Rubbish. You’ve done the absolute best for Frida. Given her lots of joy.’
‘On a budget,’ Callie said, bitterly.
‘Like lots of parents, single and otherwise. And Frida’s not going to be around for ever, my love. She’ll spread her wings at some point. She already has in a way. I reckon this Ibiza holiday will be the making of her. Then maybe you can investigateyournext adventure in life.’
‘Maybe it’s important that I learn how to live now?’
‘Youdoknow how to live. You’re just like ninety-nine per cent of the rest of us, concentrating on emptying the dishwasher, doing the school run, paying the council tax.’ Donna stopped to take a breath and then continued more kindly. ‘Look, I think you’ve had a shitty year at work and this is the first chance you’ve had to put your head over the parapet, have a look around and breathe. Life’s busy, babe, but maybe it’s a good thing it doesn’t give us the luxury of time for navel-gazing.’
‘You think I’m being self-indulgent?’
She heard Donna blow out a frustrated breath. ‘Maybe. A little. Look, you’re on holiday. Enjoy it. Drink some wine. Eat ice cream. Get some sun. Relax, love. And then come back to reality to–’
‘Pay the bills.’
There was a silence.
‘What’s the alternative, Cal?’
‘There isn’t one. You speak words of wisdom as ever.’ Even as Callie admitted her friend was right, a little shard of rebellionlodged in her heart. She wanted a different way of living. Wanted to break free. But how could she? And was she brave enough?
‘Got to go. I can hear Graham thundering down the stairs. We’ll speak again. Don’t do anything hasty, will you? Send me a postcard and I’ll treat you to a humungous glass of Chablis when you’re back. Love you.’
‘Love you, Donna,’ Callie said softly and clicked off the call. She stared out to the now inky-blue velvet sky. Was this it? Was this all she had to look forward to? Work until into her late sixties at a job with which she was disenchanted and which was stressing her out, the odd break away, painting as a hobby? What had Grace said?Make art your life force!
Callie refilled her wine glass and sipped some, feeling the cool liquid glide down her throat. It was easier said than done. She had a life most people would envy. A secure job. A roof over her head. A loving daughter. Good friends. To change it would risk losing it all. Did she want change that badly? She gulped down more wine. But her life wasn’t enough. She now knew it wasn’t. It just remained for her to be brave enough to do something about it. But had she the courage?
Her phone buzzed. A text from Frida.
All good here. Missing u mummy. F x
Callie stared at the mummy endearment in shock. Frida never reverted to the childish term unless something was very wrong.
Sixteen
THURSDAY EVENING 15TH AUGUST
Georgia O’Keeffe 1887–1986
American modernist painter. Look at technique, especially in still life – how does she capture texture? What makes it so sensual?
(Taken from Calliope Thorne’s teaching notes.)
The following day dawned hot and humid. Callie spent the day painting, had a quick phone call with Frida who assured her, despite her best mummy interrogation techniques, that all was well, and returned home to get ready forTwelfth Night.
Callie felt curiously uneasy and it wasn’t just the call with Frida. Her daughter’s blithe tones hadn’t convinced her that everything was okay in Ibiza. She was also apprehensive about spending more time in Johnny’s company. The more she saw of him and learned about him, the stronger the attraction. No longer denying the effect he had on her hormones, she recognised he represented something she’d never had in her life, a sophisticated well-travelled view that was very attractive.He’d lived,reallylived, had travelled all over the world, had experienced so many more things than she had. As she’d said to Donna on the phone, she’d had her head down slogging away, too busy worrying about paying the bills to swim to the surface of life, take a breath and appreciate all that was on offer.
Her phone buzzed just as she’d stripped for a shower. Standing naked in her bedroom, she read the text that had just landed. It was from Donna.
Meant to tell you this yesterday but you went all existential on me. Remember Vivek Patel?
Callie did. He’d been at college with them all. She and Sunil had done teacher training and Vivek and Donna had studied business studies. Donna had always said Vivek had a mind like a steel trap and was destined for great things.
