Two Days in Biarritz (4 page)

“Did he contact you after that?” Annabel was engrossed.

“He texted me the next day when he got home to Dublin, then I rang him about a week later and we must have been on the phone for a good hour. There was a gap after that, then he texted. I returned a message but then no more replies. I did text him later on that year to wish him a Happy Christmas but he didn’t answer.”

“It was probably
a bit too much for him,” Annabel suggested.

“It was probably a bit much for both of us. I couldn’t concentrate on my work or anything for that matter for a good six months.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Annabel was shaking her head slowly in disbelief.

“I guess I was having mixed emotions after seeing him again,” said Kate. “The only way I was going to cope was to try and forget him.”

“Did it work?” Annabel asked in anticipation.

“
What do you think?” Kate said as she let out a sigh. “Hey, it’s a pity we didn’t have a bit of a snog though!”

Annabel grinned. She hadn’t heard that term in a long time.
“I thought you might have – I mean you’ve been a bit of a slapper in the past!”

Annabel was the only person in the world that
Kate would take this kind of jest from.

“You know, I’ve been faithful to Stefan since the day I took my wedding vows.
And look where it got me! Mind you, I had a bit of a problem on the run-up to the wedding day, didn’t I?”

Annabel knew what she meant
.

“You put me through hell,” she recalled. “There was I starving myself for months, preparing to be the perfect bridesmaid, and then you go and tell me about that gallery owner and your passionate fling over a pile of canvases in his studio!”

“Christophe was some mover. My one and only older man. Boy, am I glad I copped on though! He would have just turned sixty this year. The thought of that!” Kate scrunched her face until it contorted, in disgust at her own behaviour.

“But you were happy with Stefan when you met Shane, weren’t you?”
Annabel said, anxious to change the subject and concerned at what her friend might say next.

“I was always content with Stefan and he paid the bills which gave me the freedom to paint. He
supported my sons as if they were his own. But if I were to do it all again I sometimes wonder . . .”

Lost in her
thoughts, Kate walked across the stone bridge leaving Annabel standing at the wall and gazing at the turquoise ocean crowned with rolling white-horse waves.

“They were never like this
on Dollymount beach,” Annabel said out loud, but she was the only one to hear it.

Her mind was transported to the June of 1983
. Everything was different that summer. She could clearly picture Kate and Shane on the silver sand, her in a little cerise bikini looking like “The Girl from Ipanema” and him in his T-shirt and Levi 501 jeans . . .

* * *

Annabel didn’t mind being on the sideline. She liked Shane’s friend Josh and since the boys were best mates the foursome fell into place nicely. Josh was easy company and put no pressure on Annabel although it was plainly obvious that he fancied her. Annabel had a passion of her own for a man who was unobtainable so she happily passed away the idle summer days with the protection of Josh at her side.

Kate sprang off the blanket
and ran towards the incoming tide. “Come on, let’s jump in!”

“I haven’t got my trunks with me,” Shane laughed.

The current was deceptive in Dublin Bay and the friends usually only swam in a crowd. It was windy and the wave crests rushed in with ferocity. The three pals left behind on the seashore sat on the tartan rug and laughed at their hardy friend. Kate didn’t seem to mind as she dived in and was quickly engulfed by an incoming wave. She bobbed out of the water and swam into the next wave. Beyond it, she raised her arms in the air, as the others waved back. She disappeared again and Annabel noticed a look of concern in Shane’s eyes.

“Is she
okay?”

“She
’s a strong swimmer, she’s fine,” Annabel assured him.

“She’s gone under the waves a long time.”

“Look, there’s her arm, she’s okay.”

Sh
ane jumped up, ripped off his chunky white boots and ran to the water’s edge with his socks and the rest of his clothes still on. He waded into the sea as quickly as he could until he was waist high in the water and then catapulted his body into the air, diving beneath the waves where he had last seen Kate. She came out of the water beyond him for a few brief seconds, then disappeared again. Shane frantically swam out further. It wasn’t made easier by the fact he was still wearing his clothes.

Kate erupted ou
t of the water like a mermaid, her body glistening in the sunshine and her long dark hair clinging to the back of her neck, droplets of water spraying off her skin.

“I k
new I’d get you in here somehow!” she cried with a wicked smile.

Shane was so
relieved he grabbed her and tried to derobe her of her bikini but she was too quick in the water for him and he had to chase her all the way back to the sand dunes where the others sat laughing.

“You’re drenched! Now you’
ll have to take your clothes off.” Annabel grinned.

Shane sat in a pair of
wet underpants while they ate Mars bars and drank coke, the staple diet of the summer. Kate had Shane enthralled with her every move. Annabel had to admit she was a foil to Kate’s charms as well. While Kate was out there in the sea causing the commotions and making everyone fall in love with her more, Annabel stayed on the sideline and that’s the way it always was. Things hadn’t changed much.

* * *

“You should have gone over. The view is spectacular. I can make out four surfers on the water.” Kate was shaking the spray from her hair. “It must be some buzz.”

“Come on
, let’s take a closer look,” Annabel said, linking her by the arm. “I want to get a photo on my phone and send it to Sam – he’d love it.”

The
two walked along the edge of the seafront until they came to another viewing point that was near the winding roadway. They stood watching the brave young men fighting through the waves, trying to get as far out to sea as they could. The power of the ocean was relentless and continued pushing them back towards the shore. When they did get up on the waves they didn’t last long before tumbling back under the water like skittles.

“Do you miss the sea?”
Annabel asked.

“Sometimes, but I love the mountains. The
ir colours are spectacular and they really enhance my painting.”

Annabel steadied her phone and took a shot of a surfer before he fell beneath the waves.

“I think I’d miss the mountains more if I left them,” Kate said, staring out at the waves. “What do you want to do now?”

“
I think we’re due some shopping time,” Annabel said, putting her phone back into her bag. “What do you think?”

“Now this is your area
, Annabel. You’ll have to show me the way – after all I’m a country bumpkin now.”

“It would be
my pleasure. I saw a sign for your favourite clothes shop,
Galleries Lafayette
, on my way in the taxi.”

Annabel and Kate
meandered down the curved sidewalks past the town square and neo-Gothic church. They passed an antique merry-go-round that had been entertaining children since bygone days. Every side street was dotted with
patisserie
shops, chocolate
ateliers
and boutiques.

“Shall we?” said Kate as she held open the glass doors of the huge department store.

A cornucopia of delights awaited them on entering. Displays of exquisite handbags and scarves took up their interest for much too long.

“If we stay here any longer we’ll
never get upstairs to try anything on,” Annabel said, ushering her friend up to the escalator.

But Kate was distracted en route.
“What do you think of this?” Kate held a stripy multicoloured wrap up to her face.

“Very Bohemian and art college –
you
are
tapping the door of the big four-O, may I remind you!”

“There you go, taking the wind out of my sa
ils. Come on, onward and upward!”

Kate
was only joking but Annabel winced at the comment. Yes, she was the more conservative half of the relationship but that’s the way they always had been.

They finally made it to the moving stairs. The women’s New Season range was waiting for them on the first floor. Annabel rummaged through a rail of early season shirts and tops. She threw the turquoise and rich-sienna garments over her shoulder.

“Are you in the fitting room yet?” she called out.

“Yes, Mum,” Kate replied.

“This should do you for starters,” Annabel smiled, passing the clothes through the gap at the side of the curtain.

“I hope
you
are going to try something on?” Kate called from under her cotton cover.

“Plenty of time for that when you’re sorted out,” said Annabel.

She grabbed at a pair of chocolate-brown Capri pants. They would be perfect.

“Are you still a size
12 in jeans?” she asked Kate.

“You are too cruel, Annabel Hamilton! I resorted to a 14 earlier in the year. I can’t stand people who lose weight when they get divorced. I ate tons of chocolate for weeks.”

It was ironic, Annabel thought. In their twenties it was Annabel who was fighting off the pounds but now she was the trimmer and fitter of the pair. But those extra pounds somehow only served to make Kate even more voluptuous than usual. Life was never fair!

“You’re not going to make me put these on?” Kate said with a gasp.

“Trust me,” Annabel replied.

When Kate emerged, Annabel applauded her own powers of colour-coordination. It was one of the paradoxes of their relationship that the artist looked better when dressed by the pragmatist and
it was some consolation to Annabel for having such a seductive friend

“I have to say I love it and in a million years I’d never have picked them off the rail
for myself,” Kate said. “Do you remember that time in
Prisunic – it was one of our later trips to France? You got me to try on that floral sundress? I wore it for years.”

Annabel smiled. She remembered that holiday well. That was the summer of ’85 and that trip to
France was the most special journey in her life. How could she forget it?

“Annabel, what’s up? You’re in a trance. What do you think? Am I deluding myself here?” Kate asked with her hands in the air she gave a twirl, displaying her new ensemble. The contrast of the patterned blouse and brown pants was flattering. 

“No, no, not at all– you look fabulous. And I’m going to buy it for your birthday present.”

“Well, then you’d better get looking for something yourself, so I can buy it for you!”

Annabel sifted through the next rail trying to yank her thoughts back from 1985 with each slide of the coat hanger. “You know, I don’t see anything here at the moment. We can come back tomorrow or we might see something somewhere else.”

“Are you sure?” Kate asked.

“Positive,” Annabel assured her. “Let’s go for a coffee or a drink in one of the cafés that we passed on the main street.”

When they got out on to the main street they were spoilt for choice. The thoroughfare was littered with lots of cosy chocolate, coffee and cocktail bars. Annabel spied an advertisement for Leffe beer, one of her favourite treats whenever she visited
France. Kate followed her into the charming bar and they sat at a small round table with a view of the road outside.

“Do you remember drinking this in Britanny? It’s strong stuff – I don’t know how you do it,” Kate said, as the waiter put the large bulbous glass of frothy brown beer in front of Annabel.

“How could I forget?”

“We really had a great time on those trips. Remember my dad letting us get vodka in the duty-free? Mum would have had a fit if she knew what we were up
to.”

Annabel nodded silently. “Those holidays were special,” she agreed.

“It was great having you along. My little brother was so painful. It was like having two holidays when we took the car on the ferry with my dad and then later met Mum off the plane with little Philip. I can’t believe he turned out to be such a pillar of virtue.”

“Did you tell me that he got a new job now? That he’s a registered psychologist?” Annabel asked.

“Yes, and working for the Department of Education. He’s still married to Gloria, God love her.”

“No kids yet?”

“Mum said they’re trying – it’s the IVF road. I feel sorry for them both,” Kate paused. “I’m so glad you came on those holidays – you know, you’re better than any sister could have been.”