‘Good woman …’ Claire was never interested in that part of my life.
I stopped dead at the sight of several cardboard boxes on Kate’s floor. ‘Claire … Did you order all of Net-a-Porter?’
‘Nearly. Okay, let’s go!’ Gleefully, Claire produced a high-necked, sequined mini-dress and swung it at Kate. ‘Try that. With these …’ She rummaged through one of the bigger parcels, emerging with a shoebox. ‘… flatforms!’
Kate complied, then stood before the mirror. I was biased and I knew it but with her long legs, shiny hair and clear, fresh skin, she was gorgeous.
‘I don’t think so,’ she decided.
‘You’re wrong!’ I exclaimed.
‘It’s too …’ She shrugged. ‘Shiny? I’m not a sequins person.’
‘Try it with these trainers.’ Claire produced another shoebox.
‘Better,’ Kate concluded, once she’d put them on. ‘But still not me.’
‘No worries.’ Claire was undaunted. ‘Try this.’
‘This’ was a corset dress in pale pink. ‘Burberry,’ Claire said.
But once she was zipped into it, Kate shook her head, ‘It looks … medicinal.’
‘Then take it off.’
I had to hand it to Claire. There were no attempts to persuade Kate to change her mind. She just moved on to the next option – which was a black organza cape dress.
‘God almighty,’ I gasped. ‘That’s so beautiful.’
And it suited Kate. Unlike the previous two dresses, this was quietly thrilling.
‘How much is this one?’ Kate asked. ‘Is it a million euro?’
‘Who cares!’
‘Ah, Mum!’
‘Listen, I’ve to go,’ I said.
‘Rachel, stay!’
But I couldn’t. Tonight was a special night: Nola’s anniversary. She was twenty-seven years clean.
I drove like the clappers and got there just in time.
At the end of the meeting, an elaborately decorated cake, bearing twenty-seven candles, was placed before her. After we sang Happy Birthday, she blew the candles out. It took a while.
‘Lord save us!’ Laughing, she put a hand on her chest. ‘You need strong lungs for twenty-seven of them.’
‘Twenty-seven years.’ The boy beside me stared at Nola. ‘That’s literally unbelievable. I’m sixty-four days.’
‘Sixty-four days is amazing.’ I was so eager to encourage him. ‘We all have to start somewhere. And for any addict to get through twenty-four hours without using is miraculous.’
His eyes lit with interest. ‘Seriously?’
‘Of course. When you think of how hard it was – well, if you were anything like me – to just do a single evening without taking anything, sixty-four days is a triumph.’
‘How long are you …’
Nola had appeared at my side. She slid her hand into mine.
‘Months?’ The boy asked. ‘Years?’ Mischievously, he said, ‘You’re not going to tell me you’re twenty-seven years as well.’
Oh. I took a breath. ‘It’s a long time but I don’t count it that way. All that matters is today. And I’m clean today.’
‘Does that mean you don’t get an anniversary cake?’ He seemed disappointed for me.
‘Haha, no cake.’
‘I want a cake.’ He said it with conviction.
‘Do you, pet?’ Nola seemed delighted by him. Although she was that way about most people. ‘You’d better keep coming and keep staying clean, so. And when you’re one year, we’ll get you a fabulous cake.’
36
I’d blocked off Tuesday afternoon’s group to focus on Trassa. ‘How are you?’ I asked her.
‘I’m –’ Then she clutched her stomach and sobbed for what felt like several minutes. The hand-to-hand medieval-fire-putting-out with the tissues started up.
‘I’ve been remembering things,’ she eventually managed. ‘I pawned my engagement ring. It had belonged to Seamus Senior’s grandmother and it was worth something. Michael found out, he was raging, he gave me the money to buy it back but I … you know, spent it. That’s why he won’t talk to me.’
Another storm of tears began. ‘It’s gone now. Long gone. And I feel …’ She choked. ‘Like my heart is broken.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it was beautiful. It was the only good thing I’d ever owned. And it meant something, when Seamus put it on my finger, I was glad of it. And I gave it … awaaaay.’