The sun was high in the sky as Maggie made her way to breakfast. She had already done a few laps of the pool and had enjoyed it so much that she vowed to take up swimming in her local pool when she got back home. The dining room was quiet and she grabbed a copy of the Sunday Times and retreated to a small table with her fruit and yoghurt. She refused the offer of eggs and bacon and stuck to toast and tea.
There was an open-air kick-boxing session at eleven and she decided to give it a go before another good walk. After lunch there were only a few therapists on duty and she was fortunate to have managed to book in for a seaweed wrap followed by a full body massage.
Quite a large group gathered on the front lawn and it was hard not to laugh as they kicked and punched and aimed at unseen assassins. Myles was over at the back kicking hard, his tall frame towering over everyone else as their instructor demonstrated one move after another.
‘That was fun,’ he admitted afterwards as they downed a sparkling water.
‘I’m going to go for a walk,’ she said, putting her trainers back on and grabbing a spare bottle and her zip-up jacket.
‘Would you mind if I joined you?’
She hesitated. She had enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of yesterday. Maybe having Myles along would spoil it?
‘A long walk is exactly what I’m in the mood for, and that ridge near the woods you told me about last night sounds great. Otherwise I can set out a bit after you!’
There was no point following each other, she thought, almost reluctantly agreeing to his company.
Down by the lakeshore they stopped to drink in the view as a pair of swans dabbled in the water, before following the uphill path through the woods. Maggie was relieved that Myles was not set on talking the whole time but happy to fall into step with her without saying too much. When a rat scurried from the bushes, she jumped and grabbed his arm, relieved that he was with her.
‘You OK?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded, continuing. ‘Sorry, but I can’t bear rats!’
It was even warmer than yesterday and she slipped off her jacket and tied it around her waist as they began to climb through, the sunlight splattering the woodland floor.
‘What a beautiful spot!’ agreed Myles as he stood at the top taking in the view of the woods and fields and lake below them. The sky was clear and it seemed that they could see for miles over the surrounding countryside.
‘I told you that it was worth it,’ she said, conscious of his broad shoulders and sturdy legs standing in front of her.
‘Thanks, Maggie,’ he said slowly.
She grinned. ‘No problem.’
‘I don’t just mean for bringing me up here,’ he said, ‘but for the past two days. I was dreading coming to this place but having a bit of company, a bit of female company . . . I guess has made the difference!’
‘I was going to cancel too,’ she admitted, ‘but now I’m glad that I didn’t. Sometimes it’s just so awful doing things on your own when you’re not used to it.’
For some strange reason she suddenly felt shy with him and she gazed in the distance trying to compose herself and hoping that he didn’t notice.
‘Come on, we’d better get back,’ he said, taking her hand.
They slipped and slid and laughed the whole way back down through the woods, giggling like a pair of kids, Maggie in a rush for her seaweed wrap while Myles was heading off to a foot treatment.
Maggie joined him again for dinner, letting him order the wine as they perused the menu. The noisy group of Americans sat at the other end of the room quizzing the dining-room manageress about every item on the menu and how it was cooked.
He toasted her. ‘You look great.’
‘So I should.’ She laughed. ‘Mind you, if you’d seen the state of me this afternoon covered in layers of a seaweed jelly kind of thing . . . I looked like the monster from the lagoon. Then that lovely girl from Cork, Hannah, gave me the most wonderful massage ever. Every knot of tension or stress in my body has been unravelled. I feel great.’
They opted to share a platter of sushi to start and both went for the tender Wicklow lamb.
‘Back to the grindstone tomorrow,’ said Myles, filling her glass.
‘I phoned home and thank heaven the house survived the party! Sarah and her pals had a great time and nothing was broken or destroyed, thank the Lord!’
‘That’s the difference having daughters; my lads would have trashed the place. One time Patricia and I came back from a weekend in Prague to find Alex had burned every pan in the place frying sausages and blocked the toilet bowl. It wasn’t pretty! We had to get that Dyno-Rod drain-cleaning crowd out!’
‘Yuck,’ she grimaced. ‘Though you have to let them have them! I’m dying to hear about Sarah’s party when I get back.’
‘Lads never tell you a thing,’ he complained. ‘I guess that’s why I find it so hard without Patricia. Miss the chat. She was a great talker!’
‘You had a good marriage . . .’ she ventured.
‘We suited each other,’ he said simply.
She thought about that for a second, realizing that in a few words he had said a lot about his wife. They had balanced each other out, shared routines, cared for each other over many years. Leo had suited her. He had come along when she was young and flighty and insecure and rescued her. Over the years she supposed they had taken it in turns to rescue each other; like a sturdy boat tossed on the ocean their marriage had weathered quite a few storms and also enjoyed many calm balmy days.
‘Leo suited me too,’ she said, playing with the stem of her glass. ‘That’s why it’s so hard without him.’ She sighed, thinking of her return to the house on Pleasant Square and the loneliness of it.
‘I hope that you won’t think me too forward,’ Myles said slowly, his gaze concentrated on her, ‘but would it be all right if we kept in touch? Perhaps went to a play or a film together or even a walk?’
She considered. It was not as if she was being disloyal to Leo, nothing on earth could change her love for her husband, but it would be nice to see Myles again: two friends enjoying a meal out or a walk together.
‘I could phone you.’
‘Myles, to meet up as friends again back in Dublin would be lovely,’ she assured him, ‘absolutely lovely.’
The lamb was perfect, delicious and moist served with a sweet mint jelly. For dessert she had been tempted to try a pear and almond tart, promising Myles a piece of it. The food here, though simple, was better than most of Dublin’s finest restaurants and she could understand how it attracted those living in the locality.
‘Have you a photo of Patricia?’ she found herself asking as their waitress brought them coffee.
Myles passed her a photo from his wallet. ‘It was taken in Tuscany, outside a little villa we used to rent. Patricia loved the place.’
She stared at the tanned face of his wife with her cropped dark hair and merry eyes and flamboyant scarf. A row of tall cedars stood behind her.
‘She looks lovely,’ she said, returning it to him and reaching for her photo of Leo taken when they had hired a boat on the Shannon, six months before he died. Leo and herself were trying to steer the stupid boat and not ram the prow into the riverbank.
‘A man after my own heart,’ said Myles, studying it carefully. ‘They’re awful things to get the hang of but once you master it you’re away.’
‘It was a crazy week,’ Maggie remembered. ‘We were hopeless sailors! My sister Kitty and her husband Harry talked us into hiring the boat between us.’
He returned the photo to her and, putting it back safely in the compartment in her wallet, she sighed, relieved that it was out in the open. They were both totally aware of each other’s past and partners.
It being their last night they decided on a nightcap. Maggie opted for her favourite, a glass of Baileys on ice, while Myles went for a port. They took their drinks out on the deck, and sat overlooking the garden. The weather was still warm and the place was quiet; the Americans had already retreated to bed.
‘They’re early risers by all accounts,’ Myles said, pulling his chair close to hers as they began to reminisce about favourite holiday destinations.
‘What time are you leaving at tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘I’ve a meeting at ten o’clock in town, so I plan to get up and be on the road by seven thirty.’
‘I’m in no hurry so I’ll try and get a last swim in before breakfast.’
‘Actually I’d better call it a night,’ he admitted, yawning. ‘Let me walk you to your room.’
Maggie could feel her cheeks turn crimson. She hoped that he had no notions of joining her there.
As if reading her mind, he burst out laughing. ‘Maggie, my intentions are totally honourable.’
She giggled as he walked her across the huge lobby and down the glass-sided corridor to her room. His room was over on the other side of the complex.
‘It’s been great meeting you,’ he said sincerely, taking her hand, ‘and I’ll be in touch.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she found herself saying as he kissed her cheek. ‘Goodnight, Myles,’ she whispered. She watched him walk slowly back down the corridor. Smiling, she turned her key and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her.