Despite the Angels - By Madeline A Stringer Page 0,39
time to find someone to fill in for me. And I can’t go for long, or they’ll find out they can manage without me and then I’m finished. We have to go at a weekend, because of college, but that’s when it’s most awkward for the job.”
“You should be thinking of me, not of them. They’re just a pub. There’s loads of pubs. I need to get out of this place.”
“I’m working on it. But if I don’t have a job to come back to, I can’t afford to stay in college.”
“You can’t afford to go to Rome. I told you. Wexford would be better.”
“So how long will we be away?”
“The basic package is three nights, so out Thursday, home Sunday”
“That’s only two days away! It’s hardly worth going.” Kathleen pushed away from the table and went into the kitchenette, switching off everything and snatching the potato pan up. She drained the potatoes and started mashing them with short hard strokes, throwing in a piece of butter which she cut off the block with the edge of the masher. She served out on two plates, banging the masher against them to dislodge the potato, and then put one plate approximately in front of David and sat back on her own chair with a grunt. Kathleen sat staring at her plate, saying nothing. David got up and fetched cutlery from the drawer.
“We could make it three, if we go on a Wednesday. But I lose more money by not working and miss more at College and have to copy someone’s notes. So the longer I’m away the dearer it is. The flight out is early, so we’d have most of the day there and the flight back is late. So from Thursday it’d be nearly four days. More than half a week.”
They ate in silence. David was aware only of the crashing of Kathleen’s cutlery and the sharp clack of the salt cellar as she put it back down. Kathleen was aware only of her own over-riding misery.
Chapter 15
David gave a small tip to the taxi driver, picked up the bags and struggled up the path to the house, veering awkwardly into the flowerbed as Kathleen’s overstuffed bag won the battle for his balance. The front door was shut. David let the bags drop and stood silently for a moment, wondering. It’s not significant, he thought, read nothing into it. We’re tired after the flight. He rang the bell. After a few minutes when nothing had happened, he rang again, longer. Eventually, the door opened an inch and as he pushed it further he could see Kathleen going back up the stairs. David heaved the bags into the hall, shut the door and hauled himself and the luggage up the stairs to the flat.
“I’ll put on the kettle, shall I?” David asked as he pushed in through the half open door, “then we have to go round to your mum for the girls.” There was an inaudible mutter from the living room.
“What, love?” said David, as he went into the room.
“I said do what you like and go if you want.” Kathleen was lying on the couch with her eyes closed and her coat spread over her legs.
“Why don’t you go in to bed if you’re so tired. I’ll bring you in a cup of something and then you can get some rest before the babies get here. I’ll go for them, if it helps.”
“I suppose.” Kathleen put an arm over her eyes and stayed where she was. David went through into the kitchenette and put some water into the kettle. It’s still cold here, he thought. Maybe a hot water bottle’s a good idea. He set off in search.
After a minute or two more on the couch, Kathleen noticed David making noise in the bedroom. She sat up slowly, and swung her feet down. She sat for a moment, curled forward, trying to dispel the despondency that threatened to overtake her. Rome was all right, she thought. But it’s over now. It feels like it’s all over, all over again. She stood up quickly and swayed as the blood drained from her face. She sat down again and put her head between her knees. David came in.
“Kathleen! What’s the matter?” he knelt beside her.
“I don’t know, I feel faint all of a sudden. Maybe I caught a chill.”
“Maybe you did, lying still in this cold room. Come on. We’ll get you into bed. I’m organising a hot water bottle.” David