‘Hi,’ I said and gave him a small, awkward wave.
He raised his head and gave a tight smile.
‘How are you?’ he mouthed and I gave him a thumbs-up.
He pointed to the phone and I motioned for him to carry on, I was on my way out anyway. And that was it. He disappeared into the building and Logan carried on talking about an idea for a character he had – a superchef who fights crime or something. I felt so cold all over. It was as though we meant nothing to each other now.
I couldn’t help but think of a quote from Persuasion: ‘Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.’
Chapter Forty-Two
HENRY
‘So you’ll come?’ she repeated.
‘I’m sorry, how did you get my number?’
‘From Martha’s phone, naturally. Now, she’s invited some of her chums from university …’
I didn’t even know it was her birthday. There was still so much about Martha that was a complete mystery to me. She had built her defences so high, it made the rare occasions she had let me in all the more meaningful.
‘So you’ll come at seven,’ she ordered.
‘I’m not sure she’d want me there,’ I replied, looking out of the window at Nora’s husband pottering around the back garden. I still hadn’t forgiven him for telling Martha I’d left the country for good. It was easier to blame him than to accept that maybe she just didn’t want to be with someone like me. She certainly hadn’t invited me and I wasn’t sure why her employer was taking it upon herself to interfere.
‘Tosh! She will want to see all of her friends. It’s been something of an annus horribilis for Martha, wouldn’t you say? So I don’t think it’s asking the earth for you to put your own insecurities aside for five minutes and come and eat some cake! Men, honestly.’
With that final damning indictment of my entire gender, she hung up.
The weather was mild for the time of year and as I walked along the canal, daffodils created a golden path into the heart of the city. Dublin had started to feel like home to me. It wasn’t long ago that I had fully planned to move here. The thought embarrassed me. Love, in retrospect, makes one look utterly foolish. To make such sweeping plans based on nothing more than a feeling – a bunch of chemicals, to be technical about it – seemed nonsensical in the harsh light of day. But there was no denying that I had felt more alive and awake in those weeks with Martha than I had done in my entire life. I had the sense that I was sort of sleepwalking through my life until I met her, making decisions based on what I thought was expected of me. How was that method of plotting a course for one’s life any more correct?
I recalled something Lucinda had said to me before I left; that it didn’t matter whether the decision you made was right or wrong, as long as you made it. That’s what moved you along in life. In fact she had used the word ‘journey’ because she was still in her earth mother phase.
Buying gifts was never exactly a forte of mine. A horrible panic always set in, followed by a gaping realisation that I knew absolutely nothing about the interior life of the person I was buying the present for. So I stuck to books as a rule. You couldn’t go wrong with a book. That wasn’t strictly true. I once bought my father a book about problem drinking, which he chose to use as kindling for the fire. But this time, I knew exactly what gift to get.
‘Would you like it gift-wrapped?’ the shop assistant asked.
I nodded and took my debit card from my wallet, slotting it into the handheld machine.
‘Oh, can you just try popping it in again? Sometimes it does this,’ he said graciously.
I popped it in again. Again it was declined.
‘Actually, I think I’ll put this on my credit card instead,’ I said, as if it was a choice. They’d wasted no time in cutting my funding, I realised. But as I watched him wrap the box in black paper with gold flourishes, I knew I would have robbed a bank （well, metaphorically） to get her this.
I arrived at the house just after eight and, like I always did, I took a quick check around the side, just in case. Just in case what, Henry? That the bookshop with the manuscript inside has suddenly reappeared? I threw my eyes heavenward and shook my head.
‘Utter fantasist,’ I muttered to myself as I walked up the steps to the front door.
I stopped mid-stride as I saw movement in the window. It was Martha in a sapphire blue evening gown cut low at the back, framing the large tattoo on her skin. Her bright blonde hair was styled in a braid that she wore like a crown around her head.
I felt my knees weaken. It was no use. No matter how much I talked myself out of it when I was alone, as soon as I saw her, all of the feelings came flooding back. Then I saw him, the same guy I’d seen with her at Trinity. He was telling some anecdote that had everyone in stitches. He was older and balding, but clearly he had something I didn’t.
‘Reliability?’ a voice said, reading my mind. I looked up to find Madame Bowden standing in the front doorway, walking stick in one hand, cigarette in the other.
‘How long have you been there?’
She didn’t answer.
‘Are you coming inside, Mr Field?’
‘Actually, I don’t think I can,’ I said. ‘I’ve just realised, um, I have a previous engagement. Perhaps you could give her this?’ I asked, offering the wrapped gift.
‘I beg your pardon? You seem to be mistaking me for some kind of courier! I am the lady of this house and if you were a gentleman, you would come inside and give it to her yourself.’
I exhaled heavily. That woman.
The house looked magnificent, twinkling with a terrific amount of fairy lights. I could hear light chatter and the sound of glasses clinking in the drawing room. I waited to let Madame Bowden enter ahead of me, but she’d acted out of character and made herself scarce. Walking through the open double doors, I saw the table was laid with hors d’oeuvres and a large iced cake. It seemed the old dear had really begun to take a shine to Martha, looking at the spread she had laid on. But then, who wouldn’t? I said hello to a few people, then slowly made my way towards the birthday girl, resisting every step that took me closer to her. She looked up and gave me that blue-eyed stare I remembered from the first morning I met her, looking through the basement window. But now, like this, with her beautiful dress, the look was even more disarming.
‘Happy birthday, Martha,’ I said.
She stepped away from her group of friends and let her hand rest on my wrist before leaning in to kiss my cheek.
‘Oh, Henry!’
Yes, exactly the kind of reaction you want when gatecrashing a party. Oh, Henry.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ she tacked on, giving me an awkward hug. Or maybe I was just an awkward person to hug. The jury was out.
‘Me too,’ I said, as if swerving tonight had never crossed my mind. ‘You look beautiful.’
She put her hand up to touch her hair.
‘Thank you. Madame Bowden insisted that I borrow one of her old dresses. She had it altered by a dressmaker and everything,’ she said, her eyes wide with disbelief.
I watched as she swished the silk skirt.