Despite more breathing exercises, I was a little shaken by my experiences of the day when I got home. I wanted to tell somebody what had happened. I thought of ringing Stella but she was at work and I was in the act of ringing Martha when I remembered what Tina had said about empathy. Maybe it would be hurtful to Martha to hear that Caroline was racist. But I could tell her about the man. Or could I? How would I explain how he started the conversation with me without explaining what Caroline said? I stopped the call. I needed more friends.
That was the day I decided to move house. I didn’t like to feel unsettled on my own. For the first time in my life, I wanted to be around people.
I rang Geoff Barrington, the solicitor, who told me to ring an estate agent. He gave me a phone number for one and told me of a website where I could look at properties for sale. He also told me that I should start looking for a house, preferably before I put mine up for sale. He said that this was one of the big decisions and that I should seek guidance from someone. I thought I was seeking guidance from him. But he said he would handle the business end of things.
I guessed he meant that I should call Angela. I would wait until the weekend, when she was free. In the meantime, I logged on to the website and spent a happy few hours perusing houses in the county. I didn’t want an apartment, although there was one for sale in the village. I wanted to be in the middle of things but I didn’t want to share a corridor. Most of the houses available had three bedrooms but I only needed one, maybe two.
On Saturday afternoon, I called at Angela and Nadine’s house and discussed my options. Nadine immediately suggested the run-down, derelict cottage on Bracken Lane, opposite Martha’s yoga studio. ‘It’s been for sale for years.’
‘I can’t live in that,’ I said.
‘Use your imagination,’ she said. ‘Think of what it could look like.’
‘Don’t you ever watch home-makeover shows on TV?’ said Angela.
‘Yes, I love them, but I want a shower like yours. It would take up half that cottage.’
‘But you could build an extension, double or triple the footprint of the property? I bet you could get the place for half-nothing. You’d need a surveyor and an architect. Look at our kitchen. You think it was built with the rest of the house in 1904? Do you think our paradise shower is a Victorian fixture?’
Nadine began to sketch on the back of a letter. She drew the front of the cottage. ‘How far back does the property go? Probably fifty feet? Do you want a garden? Or maybe a small patio? Low maintenance? I’ve often thought that place could be beautiful, with skylights in the right places. You’d need to look at the drainage situation, though. There must be a reason why nobody has touched it in twenty years or more.’ Nadine was excited. ‘Let me ring the council on Monday. See what they say. You’d be doing them a favour. The only reason it hasn’t been condemned is because it’s up a laneway and out of sight. But you’d be in the middle of Carricksheedy. I wonder who owns it.’
Angela laughed. ‘Uh-oh,’ she said, ‘Nadine’s got a bee in her bonnet. I always said designing furniture was too small potatoes for her.’
‘Sorry, sorry! I’m getting carried away. Loads of potential. The other options are small three-bedroom terraces on main street or the bland three-bed semis on the housing estate beside Mervyn Park. I heard they’re building more, though, since the business park is expanding. Your own house could be worth a lot Sally. You’ve a few acres, don’t you?’
I thanked them and explained I had to go because I was going to Martha’s party.
‘A party?’
‘Yes, I haven’t been to one since I was a child. I’m nervous.’
‘Don’t be nervous, have fun!’
‘But I don’t know anyone there except Udo and Martha and the children. They’re holding a party for the new recruits at Mervyn Park.’
‘You’ll be fine. Have a glass of wine or a cup of sugary tea before you leave the house, to relax you. Remember, most of those people will be new to the area too. You are part of the welcoming committee. Make an effort to talk to the new ones. They know nothing about you. Everyone else in the village knows your story.’
‘Most of it. Nobody knows all of it. Not even me.’
Angela looked at Nadine, who busied herself chopping vegetables.
‘What are you going to wear?’ said Angela. I looked down at my black skirt and indicated the sweater they’d given me for Christmas the previous year.
‘Ask one of your friends to go shopping with you some day. Your dad was tight with money, but you don’t need to be scavenging in second-hand shops. You’re well off, you know. Jean used to love her shopping sprees and you might enjoy one too.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Really? Talk to Tina about it. You might find it therapeutic.’
‘I might find it hellish.’
‘Not necessarily. You won’t know unless you try it.’
Martha and Udo lived in the new housing estate at the edge of the village. At the beginning of the party, I stayed on my own in a corner of the kitchen, pretending to take an interest in the plants on the windowsill. Gradually, people introduced themselves. I met the people that Caroline had been talking about. One couple was Brazilian, Rodriguo and Fernanda. There was a divorced Indian woman, Anubha, with two children, and an English Black couple, Sue and Kenneth, and their three children. The garden was large and, despite the grim weather, the children all played together at the end of it in a treehouse that Udo had built. They were extremely noisy. As a compromise, I inserted one earplug.
Remembering all the tips that Tina had given me about socializing in advance of this party, I told them one or two facts about myself: I live on my own and I like to play the piano. Debussy is my favourite composer. I was looking for a job.
The other challenge was to ask them something about themselves. I asked Rodriguo and Fernanda if they were planning on having children. Martha interrupted me and took me aside and quietly explained that I shouldn’t ask personal questions. I wished Tina had written out some rules that I could memorize. Fernanda later told me that they were trying for a family. I knew that meant they were having a lot of sex and realized why the question was so personal. Rodriguo asked me what my work experience was. I told him that I had never worked. ‘My mother died when I was young and I looked after my father until his death fifteen months ago.’ They sympathized with me. Rodriguo’s father had also died in the previous year. I asked what his funeral had been like and Rodriguo described Brazilian funeral traditions as a lot like Irish ones, though he was surprised that people brought food to the bereaved here.
‘Who can eat at a time like that?’
‘I can eat all the time,’ I said.
There was a kind of lull then, and I thought I’d move on to Anubha, the small, pretty Indian woman. After my introduction, she said she’d love to learn to play the piano, but that she wouldn’t have time, being a single parent with two little ones.
‘What happened to their father?’ I asked. Martha was behind Anubha, I think monitoring my conversation. She put her face in her hands and I thought maybe I’d asked the wrong question again.