‘I see,’ said Marilise, and I was grateful that she hadn’t argued with me, or offered any platitudes. ‘And your family?’
‘My parents and sister live not far from here. They–they think that I should have moved on by now. They don’t like to think about Paulo – my husband. And now my sister’s getting married, very close to the anniversary of his death.’
My mouth snapped shut. I had said enough, and I was worried that I might cry. What a horribly unprofessional start this was. But Marilise didn’t seem remotely bothered.
‘So they are not respecting his memory, or your grief?’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t blame you for finding somewhere else to be.’
‘I am happy for Steph – that’s my sister,’ I burst out. ‘But it’s too hard to be steeped in it all. And there’s alot.’
A whisper of that mischievous grin touched her lips again.
‘Ah, there is a splendid word, maybe you think it fits her:bridezilla?’
She rolled the word around her mouth with relish, and I laughed.
‘Poor Steph, she wants everything to be perfect, but she can be scary about it at times.’
‘And you and I know,’ said Marilise, ‘that life is not perfect, nor is love, but that does not take away from its wonder.’
Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. I had been pushing that wonder away, I knew that, but now I spoke a bit too brightly.
‘Well, I love the life I have. I meet so many different people and have freedom and flexibility – I’m not sure most can say that.’
‘I certainly could not,’ replied Marilise. ‘Not now, not ever, really, but I had my family and this beautiful home and that, for me, was enough. But we are all different.’
I wanted to tell her that I was not different, that, if I was being honest, a home and a family of my own was what I longed for. But this was a truth I could barely admit to myself, let alone someone else. If I were to say it out loud, it would feel as if I were being somehow disloyal to Paulo. This life I had created honoured his memory and gave me some relief from my guilt over his death. It also protected my barely mended heart from being torn to shreds all over again. I changed the subject.
‘What would you like to do this morning? We still have an hour or so before lunch.’
‘I normally swim, as you heard, but not today. I do want to go to the party tonight, and that means lots of rest. Perhaps you could help me dress, and then I would like to sit quietly downstairs and read.’
‘Of course.’
Letting her guide me as to how much aid she needed, I helped Marilise wash and dress. She wore a smart pair of black wool crepe capris with a neat cotton shirt and a rich purple cashmere cardigan, which had little pearls for buttons. She then applied a little make-up, and I helped her brush and arrange her hair.
‘There, Laura, I think I will do.’
‘I think so,’ I replied. ‘You look nicer than I do when I’m going out, let alone spending the morning around the house with my family; maybe I should start making more of an effort.’
She surveyed me seriously.
‘Your clothes may be casual and comfortable, but you have good taste, I can see that. The cut suits you and the colours are flattering. But I never regret making that little bit of effort. Speaking of which, please could you find the small pearl earrings in that box on the dressing table?’
I opened the box as directed and found it was full of earrings, all neatly pushed into padded velvet slits. Several were pearl, but I selected the pair I thought might go well with the cardigan buttons and held them up.
‘These ones?’
‘Clever girl. I said you had taste.’
I felt absurdly pleased as I helped her put them in, then took her arm to support her. We moved slowly, but she took care to step properly, not shuffle as so many older people do. As we came out on to the small landing, my bags were waiting for me outside another door.
‘Ah, good,’ said Marilise. ‘Someone has brought them up. I asked for you to have that room; it’s near me but, more importantly, it’s one of the nicest rooms in the house. It’s the one my sister always used to stay in, and she wouldn’t have anything but the best.’ She laughed gently. ‘I also have a “bridezilla” in the family; one day I will tell you about her.’
We moved towards the stairs.
‘I look forward to it,’ I said. ‘Maybe we can exchange notes on how to manage them.’
‘I found living in another country to be an excellent solution,’ said Marilise, holding firmly to the banister with the other hand. ‘But maybe that is too drastic.’
