A Dozen Second Chances. Field Kate

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СКАЧАТЬ More than I’d expected. I’d signed up to lots of basic DIY courses over the years, in a bid both to save money and be self-reliant, but had found a real sense of satisfaction in learning how to identify a problem and to solve it – in some aspects of life, at least.

      I followed Tina into the conservatory, a recent addition to the bungalow and her pride and joy. South-facing, and with views across the small patch of garden to the fields beyond, it made the most of the advantage of this side of the street. My garden faced north, and looked out on to Winlow Hill, the highest peak in the area, and one that drew ramblers and tourists to Inglebridge throughout the year. It was a view that I loved; I wouldn’t have switched sides of the street for any money.

      ‘Did Caitlyn get off okay?’

      ‘Yes. No delays, no cancellations. Where are leaves on the line when you need them?’ I glanced at my watch. ‘She’ll be in London now. One night at Gemma’s, and then they’ll catch the Eurostar first thing in the morning. They’ll be in Paris by lunchtime.’

      ‘Lucky them! It makes me wish I’d tried harder at languages at school. I’d have given my eye teeth to have had the chance to drop everything and work in Paris when I was twenty, wouldn’t you?’

      ‘Yes.’ I gazed out through the conservatory windows, seeing nothing. I remembered too clearly how, at twenty, the world had seemed there for the taking; remembered the plans built on excitement rather than practicality, to travel the globe, to take part in ground-breaking archaeological digs across the continents. It had all been so possible, so tangible. But at twenty-one, my world had shrunk; it had all become impossible.

      Tina must have read something on my face, as she stretched across and rubbed my hand.

      ‘Sorry. Me and my big gob. I didn’t mean …’

      ‘I know, it’s fine.’ I clutched my mug between my hands. ‘Sometimes life doesn’t take you where you hoped it would. Better a different life than none at all. I’m the lucky one.’ I sipped my tea, mentally pushing away the guilt that threatened to roll in like the mist over Winlow Hill.

      ‘Are you meeting Rich tonight? Is he taking you out to cheer you up?’

      Tina’s attempt to lighten the mood wasn’t a huge success.

      ‘It’s his access weekend. His children are staying so I won’t see him.’ Despite my best efforts, there was more relief in my voice than regret. ‘Maybe we’ll go out during the week.’

      ‘You can do what you like now, can’t you? Life begins at almost forty! You’re lucky to have an empty nest while you still have the energy to take advantage of it. What plans do you have?’

      ‘Nothing special …’ And then I remembered Caitlyn’s parting gift, and I pulled the box of vouchers out of my bag to show Tina. ‘Although Caitlyn has made me these, and I promised to do twelve things to be kind to myself …’

      ‘Ooh, aren’t they pretty? She should sell these. I’d buy some.’ Tina inspected the cards. ‘Have you thought of anything yet?’

      I shook my head.

      ‘I know the perfect thing to set you off,’ Tina said, reaching for her iPad. ‘Are you free next Thursday night?’

      ‘Maybe …’

      ‘I saw this advertised on my Facebook group for history teachers this morning. There’s a talk on Thursday night at a private school in Yorkshire about the Romans in Britain.’

      ‘A history talk? That sounds more like being kind to you,’ I said, smiling.

      Tina laughed. ‘Hang on, I’m getting to your bit. The talk is a two-hander with a historian and an archaeologist speaking.’

      I sipped my tea, feeling the first stirrings of disquiet. It was foolish – irrational. How many thousands of archaeologists must there be across the country? There was no reason to think it would be him …

      ‘Here we go,’ Tina continued, tapping at the iPad screen. ‘Jeremy Swann is the historian – you might not have heard of him, but he’s written some interesting books about life in Roman Britain. That’s your favourite time, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, when Tina paused for breath. It had been my favourite time. In the days when archaeology hadn’t only been about the past, but my future. Our future.

      ‘And they’ve done well to get this archaeologist,’ Tina continued. ‘He’s been on the telly – did you see that programme, Travels Through Time? Paddy Friel’s his name. Have you heard of him?’

      Paddy Friel … My head began to spin. I put down my mug.

      ‘I’ll find you a photo. That’ll convince you to come with me.’ Tina laughed and swiped the iPad screen. ‘Here you go. Don’t tell me it’s not being kind to yourself to gaze at him for an hour …’

      Tina held the iPad up towards me. A man’s profile filled the screen: a familiar face, if older than when I had last studied it in such detail, from the cleft in his chin, to the dark curls that tumbled around his face, still slightly too long for practicality. I thought I’d set aside my feelings many years ago, but as I stared at the picture, the emotions revived, flashing through my head like a spinning fairground ride: a dizzying blur of love, disappointment, hatred and anger.

      ‘He’s no expert on the Romans,’ I said. I turned away from the photo. Those twinkling eyes stirred too many memories, the good memories, not the bad. I didn’t want to remember those. ‘He was always more interested in the Vikings.’

      And in himself – no subject was closer to Paddy Friel’s heart than Paddy Friel.

      ‘You know him?’ Tina looked more impressed than Paddy deserved. She smiled. ‘You’re a dark horse. How well do you know him? Academically or Biblically?’

      ‘Both, once. It was all over a long time ago.’

      ‘Blimey.’ Tina goggled at me. ‘I wasn’t serious. But, really? You had a thing with Paddy Friel? How could you not have mentioned that before?’

      ‘Because I’d rather forget all about him. I certainly don’t want to meet him again.’

      Tina hesitated, tapping her iPad screen with her nail.

      ‘You won’t meet him. We can sit at the back and sneak out as soon as it ends. There’s coffee and biscuits afterwards, but we don’t need to stay for that. Come on, I don’t want to go on my own. And what about these?’ Tina pointed at the pile of ‘Be Kind to Yourself’ vouchers. ‘This is a perfect example of what Caitlyn had in mind. It’s time to start thinking of yourself again, and what you want to do. Archaeology was once your passion. You’ve no excuse not to pursue it now. You definitely can’t let some bloke put you off going to something that would interest you.’

      Not just some bloke … but still, as I looked down at Caitlyn’s vouchers, a prickle of life stirred within me. I had loved archaeology once, had been fascinated by the opportunity to literally unearth traces of lives lived thousands of years ago. The Romans had been my favourite area of study. And why shouldn’t I attend a talk on them, even if Paddy Friel would be there? He was nothing to me now, and he would have long forgotten me. The time when he, or any man, had any СКАЧАТЬ