Love & The Goddess (5 page)

“Of course,” I said defensively. “You know how important this is to me. I’ve taken off my engagement and wedding rings, though I feel quite exposed without them. But
I’ll never part with this one.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort, Kate.” He placed his palms together in his prayer-like manner and raised them to his lips. After what seemed like a considerable
time lapse, he asked, “How’s Julie?”

“She’s in bits. I’m worried about her and worried that I will try to poison her against her father.”

“At least you’re aware of that. The most important thing is to reassure her that it’s not her fault. Children regularly blame themselves when their parents split up. And try
for her sake to hold back on criticizing her dad. After all, he is half of her.”

I nodded. He was right. I wasn’t sure if it helped to hear it out loud or not, but he’d given me a lot to think about.

He said, “Call me if you feel you are getting worse, but between now and our next session I want you to think of all the things you wish you had done in life but haven’t been able to
because of your marriage.”

A
fter four consecutive attempts to brown my toast, I turned the switch on the toaster up to maximum and went off to the bathroom. One of the
problems with a new kitchen was getting the hang of everything. I felt a pang for my Aga and my copper pans, for the huge granite work surfaces. I’d designed it to be a real cook’s
kitchen. As I was washing my hands, I was suddenly shaken by the sound of a deafening
bleep … bleep … bleep.

Heart thumping in my chest, I raced into the kitchen where I was enveloped by a cloud of thick black smoke. Wading through, I hastily unplugged the toaster. Flames were leaping from the slot
where my toast had been. I grabbed a fire blanket and threw it over the choking appliance. Then, like a maniac, I searched for the fire alarm, scanning up and down walls through the thick fog only
to discover it embedded in the high ceiling. No chair or counter high enough to reach it, I opened a window in the hope it would stop bleeping of its own accord. Just as the smoke was dying down
and the alarm stopped, the doorbell rang. I looked at the intercom screen. Surely it wasn’t the fire brigade? Relief flooded over me at the sight of Ella’s face peering into the camera.
I pressed the button, opening the front door, flapping my hands madly to clear the smoke as I ran down the hall to meet her.

“God, Kate, have you set the place on fire already?” Ella was fighting a smile as she handed me a bottle of wine, her mane of dark hair framing her heart-shaped face and swinging
about her shoulders.

“No, just burned some toast. How was your trip?” I hugged her close. “I’ve missed you.”

“Good, conference was mad, did you get my messages? I must have tried to phone a hundred times, the reception is terrible out there and I kept missing you. How are you?”

“Much better than I was – I can’t get used to living alone, and I think I might have ADHD, but I’m alive.”

She hugged me hard. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me. I should have come.”

I stepped back and looked at her aghast. “Ella, this is your biggest client, your biggest gig yet. You couldn’t just up and leave in the middle. You’ve spent too long building
your business.”

“But…” A concerned look came over her face as she studied me up and down. She put her two hands on my upper arms, kind blue eyes focusing intently on mine. “Kate, love,
I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there and it’s terrible. I should have been here.”

“Ssh, and let’s get this bottle open. I want to hear all about the conference and Greece.”

She followed me into the living room. “Have you been eating? You’re no more than skin and bone.”

“You know me. I always eat, but if I’m anxious my metabolism races and I lose weight. I spend most of the night tossing and turning, so that fairly burns the calories.”

“Yes, divorce is a sure fire way to lose weight. Calories going up in smoke! But you need to mind yourself, Kate. Promise me you’ll mind yourself, lovey?”

“I promise,” I said, smiling at her concern. “Wine?”

“Would you mind if I had some tea? I know the wine will go straight to my head – how about some of that Lapsang Souchong you always have?”

“Coming right up.” I headed into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil.

Ella followed me. Leaning over the white Formica worktop she reached across to pick up the box of tea, inhaling the scent. “What’s your fascination with this stuff?”

“It reminds me of childhood. There was a storage shed at the back of our house where I used to go to read. It was filled with my father’s old furniture from his parents’ house,
piled up in a sort of kamikaze mountain. As I climbed to the top, everything would slide and slip threatening to disintegrate beneath me. I could have killed myself.

But I always felt elated when I finally got to sit up there.” I pulled down the teapot, warming it with water from the boiling kettle. “I used to curl up beside an old tea chest
– it smelled of Lapsang and was full of old books, Greek mythology, anthropology, books on ancient civilizations and fairy tales. Sometimes I’d find tea leaves stuck between the pages.
The scent of Lapsang brings me back to those magical worlds I read about.” I poured Ella her tea.

“No wonder you’re such a romantic, Kate. When I was a kid I read nothing but the Beano.”

“My father loved those books. He used to read to us at bedtime. I think he would have liked to be an anthropologist but he was afraid to follow his dream and did law instead.”

“Following the dream isn’t always easy. Look at me – with this recession, everyone is organizing their own parties and launches.”

“But you have a great client base built up.”

“Thank goodness, and as long as they need conferences organized in far-off places with sunshine and beaches, I’m there!”

We laughed.

“Here, come and sit down inside – are you shattered?”

In the living room, Ella eased her shapely legs into the velveteen tub chair as I took the sofa. She tapped manicured nails against her mug as she spoke. “You need a bit of fun in your
life, Kate. Trevor’s crushed your spirit. Why don’t you have a look at one of the Irish dating sites and see what the talent’s like? A lot of people are using them now. You need
to be careful though, you’re in a vulnerable place and men can take advantage, but you need to start getting out again.”

“God, Ella, aren’t those dating sites just the same as the personal ads in newspapers? I thought only people with no personality used them?”

Ella grinned at my surprised face. “Not at all. That thing of meeting someone in a pub or a club doesn’t work when you’re over forty. Everyone’s on the internet now. In
fact, I’m thinking of putting up a new profile.”

“I never knew you did that. You never told me.”

She smiled mysteriously. “It never arose because you weren’t in the market for a man. Have you got the computer set up?”

“Yes. It’s in my bedroom.”

“Ooh, come on then, let’s have a look. Listen, I’ll open that wine while you do a search. We’ll need a glass or two to get us in the mood – go on ahead in and
Google dating sites. I’ll be there in three minutes.” Seeing my worried expression, she continued, “Ah come on, you need a bit of fun in your life. What harm can it do?”
Ella’s advice ran contrary to everything James and my shrink had said, but then Ella never went for safe and sensible if there was a fun alternative. Her enthusiasm reminded me of the good
old days at boarding school when she was always up for a laugh. Seconds after I’d logged onto the site, Ella sashayed in with two glasses of wine. “How are you getting on?”

“I have to use a username. What’ll I call myself? I mean I’m not really going to use this, but I can’t use my own name.”

“Use some name you like from the myths you’re always talking about. How about the Goddess of Love?”

I smiled, glancing at her nervously. “I can’t use something obvious like Aphrodite. That could be misconstrued as slutty. How about Athena? She’s the goddess of justice, war
and industry.” I bit my lip, thinking hard. “No. She’s too serious. Oh, I’ve got it. Persephone. I feel like Persephone right now – I spent a long time in the
underworld, living under Trevor’s obsessive compulsive regime of constant cleaning.”

“Nice name,” nodded Ella. “Who is she?”

“She’s the daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest, and Zeus, king of the gods. When she was playing in a meadow, Persephone was seized by Hades and carried off to the underworld
to be his bride. Her mother was so distraught, she searched for her throughout the world with help from the crone goddess, Hekate. Demeter refused to attend the earth until her daughter was
returned. In the end, Hades gave in but because the girl had tasted of the food of the underworld she was forced forever to spend half the year there. She comes back to the world in spring each
year, bringing new life and new growth with her.”

“Hmm … Sounds rather depressing.”

“But the story ends with the spring arriving.” I was convinced it was the right name for me. “She was a victim and as vulnerable as I am. But it’s a tale of hope, with
her growing into her role as queen of the underworld. Persephone’s return each spring shows her becoming a powerful woman as she helps her mother in nurturing the earth. The fact that she can
walk between both worlds signifies her ability to balance her emotions – sorrow, loss and anger, set against joy, peace and serenity.”

Ella’s brow creased in a thoughtful frown. “Okay, I get it now. I took psychology in my first year at university. I think Carl Jung was into that stuff.”

“That’s right. I have his biography there.” I cocked my head in the direction of the book shelf.

“Type in Persephone, then. See if the site accepts it.” Ella took a sip of her wine.

I clicked. “It’s accepted. Oh, no … There’s a questionnaire before you can continue.”

“Crap, I forgot that bit. We’ll do that later when I’ve convinced you this is the way to go. Click ‘answer later’ to all questions. Same on the next two
pages.” I did as Ella said and came to a page with the words “find your match”. “Now you can start a search.” Ella sidled in closer to have a full view of the screen.
“Fill in the age group. What ages are you interested in?”

“Hmm … Trevor was fourteen years older than me, so maybe go younger this time. How about ‘twenty-five to thirty-five’?” I laughed at Ella’s horrified
expression. “I’m joking!” I typed in forty-four to fifty. Photographs appeared down the side of the page, with age and occupation stated opposite. The usernames and captions were
listed on the right. It was quite a range.

“Click on him – he’s a fine thing!” said Ella, enthusiastically pulling my clothes off the bedroom chair and pulling it over beside me. “It’s quite addictive
you know.”

We looked through nineteen profiles, which included photographs along with a list of what each man was looking for in a woman. Age, profession, marital status and whether someone drank or smoked
were filled in along with what kind of relationship they were seeking: friendship, a date or a casual fling. Many of them sounded a bit overly serious and quite off-puttingly needy. I looked
wide-eyed at Ella. “I can’t believe the number of men on this. And some are better-looking than you’d see around. Is it really that difficult for them to find the right
girl?”

“Too busy to socialise. But we haven’t looked at what’s available in Dublin yet. Go on, do a search for men in Dublin. The choice is bound to be miles better. Then we’ll
have a look at the women.” She reached for my empty glass. “I’ll top you up. Have you any nibbles?”

“Peanuts in the cupboard beside the fridge.” I started a new search. “You’re right, they are
much
better in Dublin!”

She was back moments later, grinning, the bottle under her arm and a bowl in her hand. “Move over! I’m dying to have a look.”

“There’s still some strange looking yokes but I’ve saved six of the best in a favourites option. What’d you think?”

“God yer man with the dark hair is gorgeous. Oh, he’s a doctor.” She nudged my elbow. “Imagine if you nabbed him! You could swan back into the village with a younger,
better-looking version of Trevor. Give him a taste of his own medicine.” She giggled at the pun.

“That sounds totally corny … But you know something, it would be such fun!” I was laughing. “But you know, I won’t. I mean, you said yourself it’s not the
right time.”

Her face fell as the prospect of mischief seemed to disappear. “Let’s look at the women, age thirty-five to forty-five.”

I clicked on the next section. “God, Ella. Some of these women are fabulous. What are they doing here?”

“Kate, if you ask that one more time, I’ll punch you. I’m telling you, this is the way it’s done now. Everyone wants to be online in case they miss out on their perfect
match. After all, you’re really widening your net here – anyone could end up contacting you. My sister’s friend Jennie is gorgeous and she’s doing internet dating. Do you
know who she met?” She lowered her voice to a whisper.