we’ll show your mum how it’s done.’
As well as Sundays by the sea, I begin the new season with a bang by making a decision that this will be the one where I finally put my energy into doing something I feel passionate about, and so far it’s keeping me up late at night, but it’s making me very excited indeed.
I’ve thought of names for my future brand of home-made candles and I stay awake at night, dreaming of one day stocking some of my supplies in local shops including Truly Vintage of course, in addition to some of the unique little gift shops in nearby Dunfanaghy.
‘There’s something about this smell that reminds me of Mabel,’ Aidan tells me one Sunday morning as we walk the Strand with Ben. I’d brought a candle in my handbag to see if I could pluck his business mind to help me come up with a brand name. ‘It’s so simple, yet so her.’
‘That’s it!’ I say, stopping in the sand as the answer came to me. ‘It’s simply Mabel. I’ve got it! Simply Mabel! Thanks Aidan.’
‘Nice to see I’m useful for something,’ he says, looking very gloomy in comparison to my upbeat enthusiasm at my big revelation. He closes up and walks over to a sand dune before I can dare to ask what might be on his mind.
Our push and pull mode of communication continues like this every Sunday, but I’m quite happy with the distance we’ve created even though we live so closely. He’s a married man, obviously in some sort of despair with whatever he has on his mind; it’s not my place to intervene, nor is it my intention to. I’ve Ben to focus on and my own mental health, and I’m quite happy to keep a comfortable space.
I start the new season by writing daily affirmations in the spare room, which I made a ‘room of one’s own’ in true Virginia Woolf style, to become my new workshop. I also practise my violin in there until my fingers bleed, I write poetry to express the anger of my past and the hope for my future. I meditate and I swim. I walk and I cook. I even garden, and it’s when I’m trying to figure out the best way to attack a patch of weeds by the fence that I overhear Aidan, who is pacing the garden on the other side.
‘I don’t know how much longer, Bruce,’ I hear him plead. ‘Yes, I know the time difference is shit but I’m doing my best. Jesus, give me a break! I’ve just lost the last family member I have and I’m sorry if it’s affecting the business, but I’m barely sleeping to try and keep up. I just need some space. I need this space and so does Rachel. You know it.’
I crouch down, unable to erase what I’ve just heard and praying that he doesn’t notice me so close by.
‘Fuck!’ I hear him as he hangs up on the call and then the back door slams as he goes back inside. It’s later that afternoon when he lands at my door, trembling and exhausted.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him. It’s a gorgeous spring day, the clocks have just gone forward to give us an extra hour of daylight, and yet Aidan stands in front of me looking like it’s the end of the world.
‘I was wondering if you’d time for a chat?’ he asks and I step aside to let him in, then lead him out to the back garden where I’ve taken great pride in trying to mirror Mabel’s masterpiece next door now that we don’t have it at our disposal to dine outside.
I put the kettle on and bring him out some tea and home-made scones, another of Mabel’s recipes baked by Ben, all the while wondering what has made him take this change of pace of communication.
‘Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting your day,’ he tells me, squinting in the sunshine when I join him. ‘I know I don’t like being landed on sometimes, so don’t be afraid to say if you’ve to go somewhere or if you’re busy.’
I think back to the conversation I overhead earlier from the garden.
‘It’s Saturday, it’s my day off, and I like to do as little as possible around Ben’s sporting timetable,’ I explain to him as I pour us some tea. ‘He’s horse riding at the moment with his best friend, Gino, after spending the morning playing soccer. He’s