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13
Early June, One Month To Go…
The morning of the village fete dawned dark and thunderous. Iris lay in bed listening to the sound of a westerly wind blowing in off the Atlantic. An ominous weather forecast had woken her at seven o’clock. The Atlantic hurricane season was sending across an early summer gift; hopefully it wouldn’t fully hit land until later this evening. She meant to spring out of bed and get organised for the day, but honestly, she’d turned over to the sound of the wind in the chimneys and drifted into a half-sleep, remembering that fete so long ago where Myles first noticed her. She could almost feel the sun on her skin, the taste of that first kiss on her lips. It filled her with a sort of yearning that she’d almost forgotten she’d ever experienced.
The unexpected sting of it made her groan. For a tantalising few seconds the memory of it all was so vivid, Myles looking at her with those deep blue eyes from under his floppy fair hair. It had caught her up, so it felt as if she was holding her breath for too long. He had done that to her, made her heart race, turned everything she thought she was and all she knew over in an instant. It had taken just one kiss. She had snuck an extra fairy cake on his plate and hadn’t charged him. Their secret. God. It was a lifetime ago.
By the time she did tumble out of bed she was running late and her mood was as black as the sky hanging low over Ballycove in the distance. As she ate breakfast she tried to convince herself that the day would be fine enough for the fete to go ahead, now the winds had eased.
‘Dry spells with the risk of thundery showers, moving in from the west and spreading across the entire country in late evening,’ Nola repeated the weather forecast glumly. There was a pile of fliers before her for the summer drama club she was setting up.
‘Oh, don’t worry, they never get it right,’ Georgie said with the determined forced smile of one who intends to stick it out to the bitter end.
Iris couldn’t help feeling that they were in for a washout of a day, which was such a pity since the village fete was the event of the year in Ballycove. There was, to be fair, a limited calendar of events to choose from, but certainly, the fundraising fete was right up there with the vigil mass at Christmas and the spring concert in the little library, at which there were never quite enough seats or wine to go round.
In spite of the forecast, Iris enjoyed her walk to the village and soon she was happily arranging the assorted books and other donations on her stall. A small canopy covered over each table and when the rain came at least there would be room enough to stand beneath its shelter. She was intent on enjoying the day.
Her good humour plummeted further when she saw that her stall was full of what looked like the items they hadn’t managed to sell last year or maybe for the last twenty years – you couldn’t give this tat away, never mind sell it. Worse, the three sisters would be working on stalls right next to each other and she had a feeling that the whole village would flock for free samples of Georgie’s gin and the chance to win a tonne of coal in the school raffle.
*
It was mid-afternoon before the crowds really began to arrive. Perhaps it was the long weekend or maybe the fact that between the villages that traced along the coast, there wouldn’t be much more to do on a day like today, but Iris was surprised at the turnout for the fete, especially given the dark clouds overhead. She never remembered it being this busy before. The upside was bumping into a few girls she’d been in school with, which was lovely. Of course, everyone’s life had moved on, but the thing that surprised her was, rather than being the only one who seemed to have lived a life only to return to the point where she’d started, the other women seemed to be in the very same boat. They’d either divorced or they’d reared a family and now, to all intents and purposes they were alone again – maybe even more so, because they were stuck in a house with a husband who they felt they hardly knew anymore.
They organised to meet up for coffee and Iris even agreed to join their badminton game, so they could make up a set of doubles. It was years since she’d played any sports, years since she’d had proper friends, but it was time to change that now.
Iris realised she must have nodded off in the afternoon sunshine because her phone woke her and when she looked about, she saw Georgie standing opposite chatting happily to some people Iris assumed worked in the distillery. She pressed ‘accept’ before registering the name on the screen.
‘Iris?’ She heard her name but was far too bleary-eyed to figure out who was speaking on the other end. ‘Are you there? It’s me – Myles…’
She groaned, suddenly wide awake. She hung up the phone before he said another word.
Half an hour later her solicitor rang. ‘Hello!’ Muriel was unfeasibly chipper.
‘Hello, Muriel,’ said Iris wearily.
‘I’ll get straight to the point: I’m afraid Myles is digging his heels in.’
‘Can he do that?’
‘He’s asking for mediation, saying he wants you two to give things another go—’
‘Seriously?’ Iris felt her head spin and suddenly, rather than butterflies in her stomach, she felt hollow. ‘His girlfriend is about to pop any day and he really thinks that I’m going to go for some sort of counselling with him?’ The words as they flew from her mouth were a complete surprise to Iris. She looked around, suddenly conscious that she might be heard. Georgie and Nola were close enough to hear every word and she automatically lowered her voice. Although, even as she moved away towards the perimeter wall, she wasn’t sure why she couldn’t just tell them and get it over with.
‘If we want to move things along…’ Muriel cut through her thoughts. God, a month ago she’d have been jumping at the chance to get him back – on any terms.
‘Will we be bringing Amanda and the baby along too?’ Sarcasm wasn’t something she did often, but this deserved it.
‘It’s a tactic, don’t worry. Most likely he expected you to be a pushover and we’ve gone in with guns blazing. He’s just trying to win some ground back.’
‘Yes, well, I suppose I have been a sap for most of our married lives.’ Iris sighed.
‘And now, he can’t understand what’s changed. Actually, since I sent out those papers, he’s done everything he can to track you down, even rang here pretending to be the new tenant in your house wanting to report a burst pipe directly to the owner.’
‘He’s just playing games.’
‘Yes. But legally, we can’t afford to hang about. After all, if your father’s estate becomes part of this settlement, it could cost you dearly.’
‘Of course.’ Iris knew with certainty now, she couldn’t bear the idea of the Delahaye fortune feathering Myles’ new nest. Even hearing his voice on the phone earlier had made her stomach churn. Iris took a deep breath, watched as a narrow shaft of light tripped across the sea opposite her. Had she finally gotten over him? Yes. She absolutely wanted nothing more to do with Myles; she’d never been surer of anything in her life. ‘The thought of even being in the same room as him just sends me into all sorts of panic.’ Even now, she could feel her stomach erupt into disloyal somersaults at the idea of it.
