And at times like that, when my guard was down, I allowed myself to miss him, to feel sad that he wasn't there. But
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only for a moment. I didn't like to miss him. I didn't really like to think about him at all.
Let's face it, I didn't like what Helen had told me. It was not news that gladdened my heart. Or any other of my internal organs. It's not that I felt he had two-timed me. I was hardly in any position to object, what with me being married. And from what I'd managed to piece together from Helen's garbled narrative, I was fairly sure he was estranged from his girlfriend while he had his little fling with me.
If it's even worthy of being called a fling.
If I hadn't found it so unpleasant I'd probably call it the one-night stand that it so obviously was.
I think I felt a bit, oh, I don't know, set up, I suppose. Fool that I was, I had been flattered by all the attention that Adam had paid me. It had been wonderful to feel so desired and admired. Especially after what had happened with James.
And now I felt that he'd only wanted me because of Kate. Not that he wanted Kate, or anything sick like that. But he wanted me because I was a mother. I probably reminded him of his girlfriend. I didn't know what the setup with Adam and his girlfriend was, but if she had run off with the child, it must have been really hard for him and maybe I was some sort of replacement.
I felt, I felt...a bit mortified, I suppose. I had been thrilled that Adam had chosen me. But it wasn't really me that he had chosen at all. It was my cir- cumstances.
I was hurt.
And I felt foolish for thinking that someone as gorgeous as him could seriously be interested in someone as ordinary as me. What could I have been thinking of?
The only thing I could say in my defense was that I wasn't myself. I'd been through a lot and my sanity was an infrequent caller.
But while we're on the subject of Adam I should admit that I was angry with him.
Not very. But a bit. I was pissed off with him for playing with my feelings. For making me feel special when I wasn't. And then for giving me that sanctimonious speech about going back to James. He had no business doing that if he didn't care about me. People have to earn the right to make me feel guilty.
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It was something that I really should try not to give away as easily as I used to.
But as time passed and I spent more time dozing in the sunny garden, my feelings began to change. I started to see the other side of the coin. In fact, I started to feel downright metaphysical about it. Not something I was normally prone to.
It might have been the excess of sun.
Maybe Adam was sent to me for a reason, I thought. Adam made me feel so good about myself, Adam restored my confidence so much, that it probably gave me the strength to stand up to James. Maybe Adam's judg- mental speech was even instrumental in helping me to make the right de- cision about James.
It would have been nice to think that Kate and I helped Adam to deal with the pain of being separated from his child and his girlfriend. Maybe we'd helped him to realize how important they were to him, depending on whether he had left them or whether they had left him.
It was so lovely to feel the bitterness leave me. I began to feel happy that I had met Adam. I felt that Adam and I had met for a short time for a special reason. It had to be short lived. And I liked to think that both of us benefited from it.
This might well be a load of mystical, superstitious nonsense. But I wasn't normally the kind of person who sees signs and portents and reasons and explanations in events. On the contrary. As I said earlier, I was always making fun of people who claimed that everything happens for a reason. Of course, I wasn't as unkind as Helen, but at the same time I was far from indulgent. Oh, existentialism, thy name is Claire.
My usual approach would have been to say something like "Adam and I had sex because we both were horny. Nothing else to it." But I just couldn't be so cynical, hard as I tried.
Very worrying, of course, but what was I to do?
But it meant that lying out in the back garden was a lot more pleasant now. Every time I thought of Adam I didn't feel as if a knife had been twisted in my gut. Some kind of peace stole over me. I didn't need to feel let down, or lied to, or humiliated or foolish. It had been a pleasure to know him for the short time that I had. Perhaps it was better that way.
You know what it's like. Sometimes, you meet a wonderful
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person, but it's only for a brief instant. Maybe on vacation or on a train or maybe even in a bus line. And they touch your life for a moment, but in a special way. And instead of mourning because they can't be with you for longer, or because you don't get the chance to know them better, isn't it better to be glad that you met them at all?
There was a very discernible feeling that a chapter had ended in my life. I started preparing myself, both emotionally and sartorially, for the return to London.
I began to pack clothes. I gathered enthusiastically and spread my net widely, visiting all wardrobes in the house, especially Helen's, and leaving no drawer unopened, no hanger unexamined.
Although I continued to bicker with everyone in the family, I knew that leaving them would be awful. It would be especially hard leaving my mother. Not just because she was so handy to have around Kate. No really, I mean it. I knew I was going to miss her terribly. It would be like leaving home all over again. Worse, in fact, because when I'd first left home seven years before, I was delighted to be going, couldn't leave fast enough in my haste to capitalize on my imminent freedom.
It was different now. I was seven years older and wearier. I knew that there was no novelty in ironing my own clothes, paying my own bills.
But I had to go back to London.
After all, my job was there. And I hadn't noticed anyone in Dublin breaking down my front door to offer me a job. Although I hadn't applied for any jobs, to be fair.
But more importantly, Kate's father was in London. I wanted her to see lots of him, to know that she had a father who loved her (well, I was sure he would when he got to know her better), and to grow up with a man in her life. Because if she was looking to me to provide her with a live-in father figure, I wasn't sure that I would be able to oblige. Maybe I would meet another man someday, but I didn't feel very hopeful.
And now that I thought of it, that threw up another entirely new set of worries. What if Kate didn't like the new man?
390
What if she got all jealous and threw tantrums and ran away from home? Oh God!
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only for a moment. I didn't like to miss him. I didn't really like to think about him at all.
Let's face it, I didn't like what Helen had told me. It was not news that gladdened my heart. Or any other of my internal organs. It's not that I felt he had two-timed me. I was hardly in any position to object, what with me being married. And from what I'd managed to piece together from Helen's garbled narrative, I was fairly sure he was estranged from his girlfriend while he had his little fling with me.
If it's even worthy of being called a fling.
If I hadn't found it so unpleasant I'd probably call it the one-night stand that it so obviously was.
I think I felt a bit, oh, I don't know, set up, I suppose. Fool that I was, I had been flattered by all the attention that Adam had paid me. It had been wonderful to feel so desired and admired. Especially after what had happened with James.
And now I felt that he'd only wanted me because of Kate. Not that he wanted Kate, or anything sick like that. But he wanted me because I was a mother. I probably reminded him of his girlfriend. I didn't know what the setup with Adam and his girlfriend was, but if she had run off with the child, it must have been really hard for him and maybe I was some sort of replacement.
I felt, I felt...a bit mortified, I suppose. I had been thrilled that Adam had chosen me. But it wasn't really me that he had chosen at all. It was my cir- cumstances.
I was hurt.
And I felt foolish for thinking that someone as gorgeous as him could seriously be interested in someone as ordinary as me. What could I have been thinking of?
The only thing I could say in my defense was that I wasn't myself. I'd been through a lot and my sanity was an infrequent caller.
But while we're on the subject of Adam I should admit that I was angry with him.
Not very. But a bit. I was pissed off with him for playing with my feelings. For making me feel special when I wasn't. And then for giving me that sanctimonious speech about going back to James. He had no business doing that if he didn't care about me. People have to earn the right to make me feel guilty.
388
It was something that I really should try not to give away as easily as I used to.
But as time passed and I spent more time dozing in the sunny garden, my feelings began to change. I started to see the other side of the coin. In fact, I started to feel downright metaphysical about it. Not something I was normally prone to.
It might have been the excess of sun.
Maybe Adam was sent to me for a reason, I thought. Adam made me feel so good about myself, Adam restored my confidence so much, that it probably gave me the strength to stand up to James. Maybe Adam's judg- mental speech was even instrumental in helping me to make the right de- cision about James.
It would have been nice to think that Kate and I helped Adam to deal with the pain of being separated from his child and his girlfriend. Maybe we'd helped him to realize how important they were to him, depending on whether he had left them or whether they had left him.
It was so lovely to feel the bitterness leave me. I began to feel happy that I had met Adam. I felt that Adam and I had met for a short time for a special reason. It had to be short lived. And I liked to think that both of us benefited from it.
This might well be a load of mystical, superstitious nonsense. But I wasn't normally the kind of person who sees signs and portents and reasons and explanations in events. On the contrary. As I said earlier, I was always making fun of people who claimed that everything happens for a reason. Of course, I wasn't as unkind as Helen, but at the same time I was far from indulgent. Oh, existentialism, thy name is Claire.
My usual approach would have been to say something like "Adam and I had sex because we both were horny. Nothing else to it." But I just couldn't be so cynical, hard as I tried.
Very worrying, of course, but what was I to do?
But it meant that lying out in the back garden was a lot more pleasant now. Every time I thought of Adam I didn't feel as if a knife had been twisted in my gut. Some kind of peace stole over me. I didn't need to feel let down, or lied to, or humiliated or foolish. It had been a pleasure to know him for the short time that I had. Perhaps it was better that way.
You know what it's like. Sometimes, you meet a wonderful
389
person, but it's only for a brief instant. Maybe on vacation or on a train or maybe even in a bus line. And they touch your life for a moment, but in a special way. And instead of mourning because they can't be with you for longer, or because you don't get the chance to know them better, isn't it better to be glad that you met them at all?
There was a very discernible feeling that a chapter had ended in my life. I started preparing myself, both emotionally and sartorially, for the return to London.
I began to pack clothes. I gathered enthusiastically and spread my net widely, visiting all wardrobes in the house, especially Helen's, and leaving no drawer unopened, no hanger unexamined.
Although I continued to bicker with everyone in the family, I knew that leaving them would be awful. It would be especially hard leaving my mother. Not just because she was so handy to have around Kate. No really, I mean it. I knew I was going to miss her terribly. It would be like leaving home all over again. Worse, in fact, because when I'd first left home seven years before, I was delighted to be going, couldn't leave fast enough in my haste to capitalize on my imminent freedom.
It was different now. I was seven years older and wearier. I knew that there was no novelty in ironing my own clothes, paying my own bills.
But I had to go back to London.
After all, my job was there. And I hadn't noticed anyone in Dublin breaking down my front door to offer me a job. Although I hadn't applied for any jobs, to be fair.
But more importantly, Kate's father was in London. I wanted her to see lots of him, to know that she had a father who loved her (well, I was sure he would when he got to know her better), and to grow up with a man in her life. Because if she was looking to me to provide her with a live-in father figure, I wasn't sure that I would be able to oblige. Maybe I would meet another man someday, but I didn't feel very hopeful.
And now that I thought of it, that threw up another entirely new set of worries. What if Kate didn't like the new man?
390
What if she got all jealous and threw tantrums and ran away from home? Oh God!
