Why hadn’t Colleen told me Jake was coming? was my first thought. I could have booked a double room. She’d been at pains to mention her happy marriage, so why not tell me then?
Because she’d been drinking, I reminded myself. It must have slipped her mind.
After a long pause, I said, ‘She didn’t say you were here.’
‘I thought not.’ He gestured inside. ‘Shall we go and sit down?’
My heart raced as I followed him through the foyer and sat on a bottle-green Chesterfield sofa in reception.
Glancing around, he beckoned a passing waitress. ‘Could we please have a pot of tea?’ he said, bestowing the girl with a charming smile.
She nodded and flushed scarlet before hurrying away.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he said to me, sitting so close I could smell his aftershave – something expensive and rather overpowering. Close up, his skin had an unhealthy pallor, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and I remembered he was a surgeon and probably worked long hours. ‘I’ve been so worried about Colleen.’ He rubbed his brow. ‘I haven’t eaten or drunk a thing all day.’
‘That’s fine,’ I said, shifting away a fraction. Things felt surreal without Greg and Maisie to anchor me, as though I was dreaming. ‘I still don’t understand why she didn’t mention you were coming.’
His jaw tightened. ‘I’ll come straight to the point,’ he said. ‘We had an argument before she went away.’ He tipped his gaze to the ceiling, and it took me a moment to realise he was holding back tears.
‘To America?’
‘America?’ His gaze dropped back to mine. ‘She didn’t go to America,’ he said, with a mirthless laugh. ‘I’m afraid my wife’s something of a fantasist.’ He shook his head, as if he couldn’t bear the truth of his own words. ‘When she can’t face reality, she makes things up,’ he continued. ‘Things she’d like to be true. It’s her way of coping.’
I was surprised he’d come out with it so baldly to a complete stranger, but somehow, I wasn’t surprised by his words. He’d confirmed what I’d begun to suspect already: that Colleen hadn’t been honest with me. It hurt, but she must have been unhappy to have invented things to impress me. Perhaps it was linked to her childhood, to Mum abandoning her. ‘You knew she was meeting me here?’
‘No.’ Jake lowered his eyes, smoothing his hands over his knees. They were nice hands, broad with long fingers. Surgeon’s hands. His trousers were dark and expensively cut, and his crisp white shirt box-fresh, but his tie was clumsily knotted and there was a patch of dried blood on his chin where he’d cut himself shaving.
‘I knew something was going on with her,’ he said, his expression collapsing into sadness. ‘I was worried, because she’s not good at handling stress, but she wouldn’t talk about it. I thought it was to do with meeting her father.’
‘Reagan.’
‘She told you?’
I nodded, stomach tipping as I recalled the text I’d sent him.
‘Anyway, I followed her here, but we argued again,’ said Jake.
I wondered when this had happened; why Colleen hadn’t said anything. Because she was trying to give the illusion she was happy, like Greg and me.
‘She told me to leave, said she had things going on that were none of my business and didn’t want me anywhere near her.’ Jake’s smile was taut. ‘I booked myself into another room, but told her I wasn’t going anywhere until we’d sorted things out.’
No wonder she’d been edgy last night, fleeing from the hotel after dinner. And what about her supposed kiss in the lift with Greg? Was she so confused she didn’t know what she was doing? Or had Greg taken advantage of her vulnerable state?
Confusion swirled through me. I stared at Jake’s feet, in their dusty brown leather shoes. First one foot jigged, then the other, as if they longed to race him out of the hotel to search for his wife.
‘I saw her talking to you in the dining room,’ he said. My head jerked up, but I didn’t say anything. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt,’ he went on. ‘I was worried she’d cause a scene. I saw her again later having dinner and thought I’d wait and talk to her.’ He paused, seeming lost in thought for a moment. ‘I knocked on her door about eleven, but she wasn’t here. Or at least she didn’t answer her door.’ He dropped his head and raked his hands through his hair. ‘I couldn’t find her this morning, and you weren’t here either.’
It wasn’t an accusation, but guilt twisted inside me. ‘I couldn’t find her,’ I admitted, my voice trailing off as the waitress returned with our tea.
Jake poured from the silver pot, adding a drop of milk to each cup. I was thirsty, but didn’t trust myself not to spill hot liquid everywhere. I couldn’t stop trembling, despite the mild air drifting through the hotel doors.
‘So, who are you?’ He held his cup in both hands and studied its contents. ‘A friend?’
‘I’m Ella. Her …’ I hesitated, not sure whether it was my place to explain in case Colleen hadn’t told him. Then again, it sounded as if Colleen wasn’t sure what she wanted, and it would be good to have someone on my side who cared about her. If she returned. When, not if. People didn’t discover they had a family, arrange to meet them and then just disappear. I might not have been to her taste, but she’d been so excited about meeting Reagan.
‘Her …?’ Jake lifted an enquiring eyebrow. His pupils flared, making his eyes look almost black.
‘We’re very happy.’ Colleen’s words bounced into my head. Her face hadn’t softened when she’d said it, the way Dad’s did when he talked about Mum, or the way Greg’s did whenever my name came up.
‘I’m an old friend from way back,’ I said on a whim. ‘We lost touch years ago. I tracked her down on Facebook and suggested we meet up. I was coming to Ireland anyway, on a holiday and business trip.’ I couldn’t believe how easily the lie had tripped off my tongue and hoped he didn’t have access to her Facebook account.
Jake nodded, seeming to accept my explanation with something like relief. It was preferable to her meeting another man, if that’s what he’d suspected. Did she often go around kissing men who weren’t her husband?
‘I’d advise you to go home, Ella,’ Jake said. He drank his tea in two gulps and replaced his cup on the glass-topped table in front of us.
‘Sorry?’ I stared, wondering if I’d heard right.
‘Was that your family I saw you waving off?’ He looked over to where a young couple were arriving, laden with bags, their faces flushed and happy. ‘You should have gone with them,’ he said darkly.
‘But … something might have happened to Colleen.’ It was an echo of my words to Greg that morning, which seemed like days ago. ‘Don’t you think we should check the hospitals?’
He barked out a short, sharp laugh. ‘You really don’t know her, do you?’ he said. ‘This is what she does, Ella.’
‘What?’
He leaned forward, arms hanging loosely between his knees, his hair falling forward. ‘She takes off without notice,’ he said, not looking at me. ‘Goes walkabout. Gets everyone worked up and calling the guards, then she walks back in as though nothing’s happened.’ He sounded matter of fact now, as if he already knew deep down that this was what had happened. ‘She was gone for six months, once. Sent me a couple of postcards telling me not to worry. I never got to the bottom of why. Something about finding herself.’
‘But you’re still married.’
He shifted position, flexing his shoulders. ‘I love her,’ he said, and I was instantly ashamed of the flash of annoyance I’d felt, that he was sitting here talking about his wife instead of trying to find her. He’d probably been searching all day, hoping history wasn’t repeating itself, only to come to the conclusion it probably was.
He fished something out of his back pocket. A worn, folded photograph. ‘We used to be happy before she …’ He left the words hanging.
I craned my neck and saw a younger Colleen, looking every inch a rock chick, in a baggy mohair sweater, ripped jeans and chunky books, her smile relaxed and open. She was leaning against a motorbike, a man’s hands – Jake’s presumably – on the handlebars.
My heart turned over. Her hair was fair like mine, but tousled. It suited her. I instinctively reached for the photo, to take a closer look, but Jake thrust it back in his pocket as though he regretted showing me. He was biting his lower lip, and I had the impression he was stemming a surge of emotion.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my hand hovering somewhere near his. It struck me afresh how little I knew about Colleen, and I considered telling Jake who I really was. But what was the point? If she’d run away, she clearly wanted nothing to do with me.
For the first time, I allowed myself to believe she really had kissed Greg the night before. Perhaps it had been her way of ruining any chance of a relationship between us. If so, she’d at least had the decency to leave and not take it further.
‘She told me she’s a film editor,’ I said. ‘Is that true?’
He briefly closed his eyes. ‘She doesn’t work.’
‘Right.’ Hurt slid through me. No wonder she hadn’t elaborated about her job. ‘And does she normally leave without taking her things?’
His gaze sharpened. ‘How do you know she didn’t?’
‘We’d arranged to meet for breakfast and I was worried when she didn’t come down,’ I said. ‘I asked to be let into her room and saw her rucksack with some clothes in it.’
He seemed to deflate. ‘That’s typical, I’m afraid.’
‘Will she have any money?’
‘She’ll have her credit card.’ He massaged his temple. ‘She’s very good at spending her husband’s cash.’ He sounded bitter. Maybe she was in the habit of emptying their bank account. ‘She’ll probably get a job in a bar,’ he added. ‘She likes pretending she’s independent.’
Pity for him rose. It couldn’t be easy, having to explain that your wife kept running away like a troubled teen. I thought of her mobile in my bag, knowing I should give it to him – not sure why I hadn’t. Wouldn’t her contacts be on there? He might want to ring round, but I reasoned he probably already had. All the same …
I was on the verge of handing it over, but remembered it would mean admitting I’d taken it in the first place. Some instinct told me Jake wouldn’t like that; not when he thought I was just a casual acquaintance.
The moment passed.
‘So, you really think she won’t be back?’ I picked up my cup at last, aware my hands were trembling. The tea was cold, but I drank it anyway, overwhelmed with thirst.
‘I’ll give her until morning then I’ll return home.’ Jake sounded as weary as I felt. ‘She might even be there when I get back.’ The sun coming through the window was low in the sky, placing shadows beneath his eyes, making him look older. Not that I looked much better. I was still in my flip-flops and my strappy sundress was patterned with ice-cream stains. My scalp was itchy too, as sand had got into my hair, and I desperately needed a shower.
I wished I could talk to Greg. He would be on the plane by now. I hoped that Maisie was sleeping. ‘Good luck,’ I said, rising, my head full of conflicting thoughts. I felt as if there was more I should be asking, but what? Jake was tormented enough, and he’d told me more than I deserved, considering I hadn’t been honest with him. ‘I think I’ll head up to my room.’ I stuck out my hand, aware it was sticky and hot. ‘Thank you for talking to me.’
He shot to his feet and shook my hand. His grip was cool and dry, his expression neutral, and I wondered if he was disappointed that I couldn’t tell him where his wife had gone. His wife. Sometime during our conversation, I’d stopped thinking of Colleen as my sister. He’d fleshed her out into someone I didn’t know – maybe didn’t want to know. Perhaps Greg’s instinct – and mine, last night – had been right and she wasn’t the sort of person I needed in my life.
‘I hope she comes back soon,’ I said, turning to pick up my bag so he couldn’t see the tears swelling in my eyes. ‘Tell her she can call me when she does. If she wants to.’
‘I will.’
A dense silence fell, pierced by the sound of cutlery clattering in the restaurant. For a second, I thought Jake might say something else; ask what Colleen had been like when I knew her, and my muscles tensed in readiness. I wasn’t sure I was up to inventing something, just to make him feel better.
But he didn’t speak, and when I looked up he was moving through the hotel doors with even strides, fading out into the evening like a ghost. Or, a man who’d grown too used to searching for his wife.
I walked back to my room feeling sluggish and syrupy, my feet dragging, my stomach knotted with tension and hunger. After my shower, I would call room service and have them send up some food, and then I would book a flight home.
But, almost without realising, I’d come to another decision.
Before I left Ireland, I was going to meet Colleen’s father.