Cathy Kelly 3-Book Collection 1: Lessons in Heartbreak, Once in a Lifetime, Homecoming

‘I never actually met Mrs Shanahan, but we talked on the phone. I came to visit her because I feel…’ She bit her lip. ‘I feel responsible.’

Anneliese stared at her, taking in the friendly, open face. She hoped the tranquilliser wasn’t making her stupid, but this didn’t make sense.

‘How?’

‘I phoned her, you see,’ Jodi went on, even more anxious now, ‘asking her about the history of Rathnaree, and she said she’d meet me, and Yvonne, who’s my next-door neighbour, says Mrs Shanahan hasn’t been to Rathnaree in years but I still asked her and then she has a stroke, and it’s all my fault!’

‘You poor thing,’ said Anneliese. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault.’

‘You don’t understand – it is!’ insisted Jodi. ‘She’s an old lady and I knew I should have talked to somebody else about it. I upset her, I must have, because one day I’m talking to her on the phone arranging to come and see her, and the next, Yvonne tells me she’s in here in a coma.’

‘You didn’t cause the stroke,’ Anneliese soothed. ‘You clearly didn’t know my aunt. Lily could cope with just about any bit of news you cared to throw at her and the fact that she’s an old lady doesn’t matter a whit. She’s young on the inside and she has the most open mind of anyone I ever met. If she didn’t want to see you or if you upset her, she’d have said, I’m sure of it. Tell me, what particularly did you want to research?’ Anneliese asked curiously.

‘All about Rathnaree House. I found this photograph, you see, and I mentioned it to her…’

‘Was there anybody called Jamie in it?’ Anneliese asked.

‘No, I’ve only got the name of one person, a Lady Irene. Why?’

‘The thing is, Lily hasn’t been conscious since her stroke, except for one moment when she called out “Jamie”. None of us knows of any Jamie in her life and, well, her son-in-law thinks it might be important. Now that you tell me you were talking to her about the past, it makes sense that she was thinking about it. He might be someone connected to when her parents worked in Rathnaree.’

‘I could try and find out,’ said Jodi. ‘I mean, if you want me to, if it’s not being intrusive. It’s just that…’ She stopped.

‘That would be great,’ Anneliese said. ‘I think Izzie, my niece, and her dad would like to know who Jamie was.’

‘Oh Izzie, she’s the one from New York,’ said Jodi excitedly. ‘Yvonne told me all about her. It sounds so exciting.’

‘Yeah, it is,’ said Anneliese, who thought she would never find anything exciting ever again. But then, excitement was overrated. Calm was nicer. ‘The thing is,’ she added, ‘the doctors don’t know if what Lily is saying is important or what it is. I suppose it’s like dreams, nobody knows what they mean. So it might be useful to know who Jamie is, and then again it might mean nothing.’

‘But it could put all the puzzle together and let her go happy,’ said Jodi.

Anneliese looked at this eager Australian girl with the kind eyes and open heart. To Jodi, it was very simple. Lily was probably going to die and the best thing to do for her was to put all the pieces of the puzzle in place so that she could go happily, with her life sorted out. And of course, Anneliese thought bitterly, nobody’s life was ever sorted out.

If she died right now, nobody would be able to put her pieces back together, or if they did, it would look like a pretty weird jigsaw puzzle.

In her pharmaceutically induced calm, she felt able to look at her life from a distance and see how out of control it suddenly was.

‘We could check the local records and the census,’ Jodi said, enthusiastically. ‘I did some historical research and archaeology modules in college and I know how to research correctly. It’s fascinating once you get into it. I feel there is so much history here, so much to be told. Would Mrs Shanahan like that, do you think?’

Anneliese considered it. Normally, she felt as if she had the answer to most questions, but right now, she had no clue what Lily would want her to do – if Lily would like the past gently opened up and examined, or if she would prefer it left alone, all neatly and mysteriously packaged up. None of them had ever heard of this Jamie person, so perhaps Lily had her secrets after all.

Perhaps Izzie would like this man tracked down. Izzie had a closer claim on Lily than she did. Yes, that made sense: Izzie could make the decision. Anneliese was fed up making decisions. All the ones she’d made hadn’t turned out very well, had they?

‘Jodi,’ she said now, ‘let’s talk to Izzie. If she thinks it’s a good idea, we’ll go for it. But it might be a good plan to wait a few days before suggesting looking for clues. It’s probably a little raw now. I know you think it might help her come out of the coma, but we’ll give it a few more days.’

‘Of course,’ Jodi agreed. ‘I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset her: she sounded so lovely on the phone. It’s sad to think of her calling for somebody and we don’t know who that person is. It’s like in a film, isn’t it? Like there’s so much we don’t know about other people.’

Anneliese nodded. She couldn’t quite trust herself to speak.

‘You must be worn out,’ Jodi added kindly. ‘Would you like to go and get a cup of coffee or tea or juice? Hospitals can be tiring. My granddad died a couple of years ago and it was rough.’

The idea of a simple cup of tea, with no intense conversation and no need to think of the person sitting opposite her mentally working out why Edward had left her and what she was going to do about it, suddenly seemed very appealing to Anneliese.

‘That would be lovely,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to sit with Lily for maybe ten or fifteen minutes and maybe we could go then? We could go into town and have something there.’

Tamarin shone like a little jewel nestled in the curve of the hills as they walked out of the hospital and down into the town twenty minutes later. Anneliese saw her home through Jodi’s eyes and she thought how beautiful it must look.

Their path took them along the curve of Plunkett Street, where all the residents had painted their houses in pretty pastel colours like a row of houses in a child’s colouring book. It had rained heavily the day before and the combination of the downpour and the beautiful sunlight of the previous few days had done wonders for the window boxes and small gardens. The fierce colours of hot pink and red geraniums blistered out at them, offset with snowy tufts of pale lilac lobelia.

It was all so calm and beautiful, and for the first time since Edward had left, Anneliese found herself able to take pleasure in its postcard prettiness.

‘Dorota’s?’ suggested Jodi as they reached Harbour Square.

Anneliese was about to say yes, and then she remembered that she’d been avoiding it lately, in case she bumped into Edward and Nell. There were so many places she was avoiding, including the supermarket, except late at night, because she knew she couldn’t cope with a chance meeting with either her husband or Nell.

Moral superiority was no match for the double whammy of betrayal and depression. Anneliese knew that no matter how much she’d want to glare at the two of them should they meet, she’d be far more likely to collapse in tears on the floor.

‘How about we try the Nook?’ she suggested. The Nook was a small bar-cum-restaurant, with a cosy name, but a modern décor. Anneliese wasn’t much for minimalism, but they always had lots of pastries from Oma’s Kitchen, the Austrian pastry shop next door. Although Anneliese hadn’t felt hungry lately, the thought of a sugar hit from lots of almond, honeyed pastry, made her mouth water. Plus, Edward hated the place. Perfect.

They ambled along towards the Nook and, once there, Anneliese pushed open the door. Standing directly inside, talking to a couple at a table set up for dinner, was Nell.

Anneliese stopped as if she’d been turned to stone.

Thanks to her late-night shopping and careful choosing of places to go in Tamarin, she hadn’t seen Nell since that day a week ago when Edward had left. After so much time spent obsessing over her, it was odd to actually see Nell in the flesh and realise that she didn’t have horns or a forked tail but was still a middle-aged woman with frizzy hair and pale eyelashes. At the table beside Nell sat Geraldine, a friend of both of theirs, and her husband, Benny.

The three of them looked shocked as well as guilty and Anneliese had a suspicion that she was the subject of the conversation.

The sharp pinprick of another betrayal struck Anneliese. Geraldine hadn’t rung her to commiserate or talk, even though she clearly knew what was going on. Without Anneliese’s realising it, Geraldine had turned into an ex-friend. She’d already picked which side of the split she was on.

‘I was going, I’m just going,’ said Nell hurriedly, her eyes dark with shock and embarrassment.

‘Isn’t this the cutest little place,’ said Jodi, who’d come into the Nook just behind Anneliese and was looking around the pub. ‘It’s so pretty. Look at those suede purple seats. They’re fantastic!’

Nobody answered her.

‘Anneliese, I meant to call,’ said Geraldine, getting to her feet, clearly even more embarrassed than Nell. She attempted to hug Anneliese, but Anneliese shrugged her off. Every bit of staid conservatism seemed to have left her and the effects of the tablet must have suddenly worn off because she felt wild with rage. Who cared what people thought of her? She must have been mad to be avoiding her normal haunts – Nell deserved to face her rage.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she snapped at Geraldine. ‘You’ve chosen your side and I bet you’ve been sitting here listening to Nell’s story.’

‘It’s not like that,’ Geraldine said soothingly. ‘We’re worried about you.’

Anneliese snorted. ‘Worried about me? You’re not worried enough to pick up the phone to ask how I am when my husband walks off with this cow! And she –’ she gestured fiercely towards Nell ‘– she’s hardly worried about me, no matter how she tries to paint the situation in a flattering light. Isn’t that right, Nell?’

Some core inside Anneliese told her she shouldn’t be doing this, that she would regret standing in a bar in Tamarin, screaming everything that came into her head. But she couldn’t help it, she wanted to say it. She could as lief stop herself as the sea water could stop pouring into the harbour, ebbing and flowing in the tides.

‘Actually, I’d give anything to know what Nasty Nell has been telling you, Geraldine. Has she been giving you the edited, poor-me-and-poor-Edward version or the truthful version? Hmm, let me see: the edited one, I think.’

Nell flushed even more. ‘I don’t have to listen to this,’ she said. ‘This isn’t the time or the place.’