As she followed the wave of Carol's hand, Therese's stomach felt like a piece of clay being shaped and moulded. She looked at Carol's face, which had now turned back to the man sitting opposite her. As she approached the table, the low hum of his voice slowly tapered out and they both turned towards her.
"Therese this is Miles" Carol said smoothly. He stood up and grasped Therese's hand. "How do you do Therese. Please, join us" .Therese hesitated for a second, looking over at Carol, who with a smile and a flash of humour in her eyes graciously added "Yes, please do".
Therese stared incredulously, remembering the way she herself had been after Carol had left her on the road those months ago. How just the sight of a painting that reminded her of Carol had caused her to run from the library in Sioux Falls. How she had been a shell of herself for months, unable to feel anything apart from emptiness. And now she had done the same, yet Carol seemed so unmoved by it all. Her stoicism filled Therese with admiration and panic at the same time. Had she meant that much to Carol? Just a few hours ago Carol had said she loved her, and she had seen how much she meant it. But Carol had also loved Abby too. Therese remembered how Carol had spoken so casually about her and Abby, how the love she had felt for her was like a disease that had quickly been cured. Therese worried that she would be doomed to the same dismissive anecdote that Carol would tell her next suitor; of just some silly girl with crush that only lasted a few months and a road trip.
She squeezed uncomfortably into the booth, the physical feeling of her arm next to Carol's causing a stabbing pain in her chest. Miles continued the conversation but Therese did not hear a word. She studied him for a moment; his thin lips, the tortoiseshell glasses, his ivy league lilt and slicked back hair. She thought back miserably to all those months ago, all those trips and evenings wasted with Mrs French and other unimportant people, when all she had wanted was to be alone with Carol. And now she had ruined it. She had been given the chance to be with Carol, only ever with Carol, and she had thrown it away.
"Therese?"
Therese turned her head sharply at the sound of Carol's voice.
"Miles is leaving, another engagement to attend to". Therese felt her stomach jolt again, more powerfully than before. She looked up to see him now standing, holding out his hand to her again.
"A pleasure" he said charmingly.
Therese squeezed his hand in gratitude and mumbled "likewise". Miles bent down to Carol, and kissed her on each cheek.
"I will stop by on Monday, I'd like to see some of the new pieces you have in".
"Of course," Carol replied graciously, "see you again".
Therese watched him put on his coat and leave. Now they were finally alone. She looked at Carol's hands, the hands with the freckles on them that had touched her and held her, had brought her pleasure and comfort all those mornings and nights on the road. The memories of them filled her with joy and pain at the same time. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came.
Carol stubbed out the remainder of her cigarette in the ashtray, grinding it down slowly and unnecessarily as it had already long since extinguished. She let the butt fall from her fingers and as if anticipating that Therese was desperately trying to fill the every growing silence, she began to speak, her eyes never leaving the ashtray.
"Miles is a new client, very interested in antique furniture. It helps to keep business going if the customer sees you in a more personal light". She pushed one side of her hair back looking tired. She turned to Therese.
"I thought you had a party to go to".
Therese felt Carol's stare slice through her. The grey eyes that had looked at her so tenderly earlier that evening were now cold, shining like steel. She felt a sudden urge to grab Carol, to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness. But she was conscious of the people around her, people perhaps like Richard, who would point and gasp in revulsion.
"Carol…I"
Carol rose abruptly from the booth and walked over to the coat stand, sweeping on the fur she had been wearing earlier at the tea room, the same one she had been wearing in the department store the day they had met. Therese stared into the ashtray, at the imprint of Carol's deep red lipstick on the cigarette butt. With a sick feeling she realised that this would be the last moment she would ever spend with Carol. She looked at the cigarette butt, nestled amongst the clumps of ash. For a mad moment she considered stealing it out of the ashtray and putting it in her pocket, anything that would serve as a permanent memento. Out of nowhere came Carol's voice.
"Are you coming?"
Therese looked up.
"Coming where?"
"Home" Carol replied simply.
It had begun to rain. Therese watched the raindrops chasing each other down the window of the taxi, one catching with the other and merging. She could see grey figures hurrying, umbrellas being caught and tangled above heads, rain splashing from gutters down walls and onto the sidewalk. As they slowed down on Madison Avenue, she felt her heart start to thud powerfully again. Carol cut off the engine and they stopped outside the apartment block, the only sound came from the rain beating against the car roof. She squeezed the steering wheel a couple of times before gingerly pushing opening the door.
"We had better make a run for it" she said plainly.
Up one flight of stairs, leaving small puddles of water in their wake, they made it to Carol's door. They had not spoken the entire ride over, and Therese's heart was now beating so loudly it was almost deafening her. She was surprised that Carol couldn't hear it too. She stood a foot away, staring at the floor whilst Carol rummaged in her handbag for the key. Her body felt paralysed and damp from the rain, like a rodent cowering in a sewer. Carol turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.
"Home sweet Home" she said wryly, flicking on the light.
Therese observed the tastefully decorated lounge, the individual pieces of furniture that Carol had selected so carefully so they seemed original yet complemented each other at the same time. It was as if Carol was in every object, every molecule and fibre of each room. Therese lightly ran her hand over the polished mahogany sideboard wishing she was touching Carol's skin.
"Would you like a drink?" came Carol's voice from the kitchen.
"Whatever you are having, thank you".
Therese removed her coat and sat down in the lounge. She could not conceive where the evening would lead to, even though Carol had said once that Therese knew her better than Abby ever had. She ran through all the possible scenarios: Carol telling her she never wanted to see her again, Carol throwing Therese up in arms and forgiving her, Carol laughing and saying it was just a silly idea she had to live together…
She scrunched her fists into balls and pushed them into her eyes. She had suddenly grown extremely tired, but the lurching of her stomach had not dulled. She wondered whether she should just leave her things, run out into the night and never come back.
Carol appeared in the doorway of the kitchen holding two drinks.
"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice cold but with a flicker of concern.
"Yes, sorry, a bit tired" Therese replied.
Carol joined her on the sofa. They were not sitting as closely as they had been on the booth, and Therese ached for the solid warmth of Carol next to her. They sipped their drinks. The grandfather clock mounted on the wall sounded so loud that Therese felt they could be cannons firing in her head. With each tick tock she felt she was growing slowly mad.
Carol looked around the room, as if she was seeing it through Therese's eyes. "It's smaller than where I used to live, but I quite like it".
"It's lovely", Therese replied, "the way you have decorated everything, it's wonderful".
Carol looked over at her and smiled. "Better than some of the places we stayed on our little trip hey".
Memories of Waterloo came flooding back to Therese like flames licking at her brain. She remembered the taste of Carol's skin, the sounds they had made together, the trembling of their bodies. How till that first morning she had felt like a stranger locked outside a secret world. She gripped the glass tighter in her hands, wondering if Carol had mentioned it deliberately.
Carol drained the last of her drink and set it down. "Well, I must confess I'm awfully tired. I think it's time for bed for me".
Therese rolled the glass in her hands, frustration beginning to rise. Why had Carol invited her back? To bring her here with everything unsaid was too much. It was typical of Carol to chop and change her mind, and she felt stupid for having fallen for it.
Therese stared into the glass at the ice cubes bobbing in her drink, disintegrating before her very eyes. "I'd best go then".
"No no", said Carol casually, "it is getting late. You can stay if you wish".
Therese's heart leapt into her mouth, but to her surprise she blurted out "But… I haven't any pyjamas". Carol scoffed, but a look flashed through her eyes, that same look that she had given Therese that day at the store. "You can borrow some of mine silly".
They got ready for bed, much like they had done all those months ago on their trip, but it felt strange, as if they were rehearsing for a play. The room was pregnant with anticipation as Carol disappeared into the bathroom to finish her toilette, closing the door behind her. Therese undressed, sliding into the silk pyjamas she had been given. She felt strange wearing them, like an imposter. Hugging herself, she imagined she had her arms around Carol, caressing the softness of the material against her own body.
The sound of the bathroom door opening caused her to start. Carol came out in her robe fluffing her hair. Therese wasn't sure where she was supposed to be sleeping and was afraid to ask. It had grown dark outside, and Carol switched on her bedside lamp, covering the room in a decadent orange glow. Pulling back a corner of the covers, she got into bed whilst Therese remained standing a foot away, feeling foolish in the pyjamas that didn't suit her.
"Come on in then wee willie winkie" she said impatiently.
As she walked towards the bed Therese felt as if she were moving through molasses. Her heart was fluttering as she pulled back the other corner of the bedcovers and lay down, her head sinking into the pillow like a stone. They still hadn't touched, and Therese could feel the hairs on her body standing up, straining to be closer to Carol.
They lay in silence, both looking up at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity. Therese could feel her eyelids starting to hover, it had been only a day but she felt as if she had been awake for a hundred years. Her head felt heavy, the darkness of sleep began dancing before her eyes.
Then Carol spoke.
"When I watched you leave that day at the Ritz Tower… I thought that I would never see you again". Therese turned her head, and with shock saw that Carol's eyes were brimming with tears. Still looking at the ceiling Carol continued to speak, running one hand through her hair as her voice threatened to break with each word. "I thought, I shall never see your face, never kiss you, never be able to touch you or hold you again". She looked over at Therese, a sad smile breaking across her face. "But I pictured you, years from now successful and smiling in your new clothes, with your new haircut and perhaps even a new girl on your arm, and I was glad, glad that you could move on from me".
Therese felt tears prickling her own eyes as she shifted across the bed, taking Carol's face in her hands. "But I came back to you" she said, softly kissing Carol's lips. It was like the first kiss all over again, yet different at the same time. Like being washed up in a beautiful place but realising you had been there before.
Carol responded to the kiss with a desperate yearning, and began to desperately unbutton the shirt of Therese's pyjamas . Therese pulled at Carol's robe, and they both half sat up, slipping the remaining clothing from each other's bodies. Therese pulled Carol onto her and buried her face into Carol's neck, locking her arms around Carol's shoulders as they began to rise and fall together, their bodies fitting as one, gasps and moans escaping from their mouths. It was paradise, a paradise Therese thought she could never experience again. Carol, with one hand against Therese's face and the other nestled under her back suddenly stopped. She looked deep into her eyes for what seemed like eternity and whispered softly against Therese's lips, "My angel flung out of space…You came back".
Therese woke first, the eerie morning light in the room casting shadows across the floor. She became aware of her nakedness and a pervading soreness between her thighs. Carol was asleep, her back to Therese with one arm flung up across the pillow. Therese noticed faint red lines down Carol's shoulders and surmised that she must have caused them. She thought back to the previous night, remembering the ecliptic moment when as she had begun to arch and shake beneath Carol, she had dug her nails deep into Carol's shoulders, as if she was trying to pierce her and become part of her.
She slipped quietly out of bed and into the bathroom, looking in the mirror and noticing the red blemishes across her neck where Carol had kissed her too roughly. As she placed her fingers over the blotches, craning her neck in the mirror Therese worried that Carol had been trying to punish her in some way for leaving.
It was cold in the apartment, and Therese hurried back into bed. Carol had not moved in her sleep, and Therese lightly touched between her shoulders, not wanting to wake her. Her skin was softer than she remembered, paler in the morning light, like a bowl of cream unctuous and unspoiled. Unable to resist anymore, she lay down next to her, pushing her breasts into Carol's warm back and slipping an arm over her waist. With her head in the crook of Carol's neck she inhaled her scent deeply. It was the smell she had craved the whole time they had been apart: a heady cocktail of perfume, cigarette smoke, and something else, perhaps Carol's natural scent. Therese inhaled deeply again, it was intoxicating. She wondered if every morning could be like this, waking up together safe, without the fear of being chased on the road, without detectives watching them from corners of hotel bars. But she felt unsettled. Carol was so prone to changing her mind about things, and there was still so much to discuss. The morning felt fragile, like the slightest thing could smash it into a thousand pieces. She breathed in tightly, hoping for just a few minutes more.
Carol began to stir. With Therese's arm still draped around her waist, she slowly rolled over to face her. Her eyes opened and she smiled.
"Good morning my darling".
Therese's heart throbbed with joy. To see Carol's face next to hers on the pillow after so many months apart…heaven was on earth this morning, in this room, in this bed. People spoke of the beauty in art and music and poetry and nature, but nothing could be more beautiful than waking up with Carol in the morning. The world's beauty had been ruined for her, in this moment and for always. For a jealous second she wondered if Abby or Harge had ever felt the same but as Therese looked deep into Carol's eyes in the growing light of the room, she forgot all about the people who came before her.
Therese smiled shyly as she moved her hand up to Carol's collar bone, gently tracing her fingers along it. Carol watched the fingers as they moved. The city stirred into life outside: car horns, men's shouts, police whistles, trucks rolling by; but in their cocoon of intimacy, the sounds seemed muffled. Nothing could cut through the happiness of this morning, Therese thought. All the things she felt they needed to say to each other had disappeared, falling away like fragments of a bad dream.
"Come here" Carol said quietly.
Therese shifted over and curled into Carol's outstretched arms. She nestled her face against Carol's chest and inhaled deeply. Carol closed her arms around her, running her hand through Therese's hair, burying her nose in the crown of her head.
"Would you like to stay here then, for good?" Carol asked into Therese's hair. Her voice though more relaxed than the first time she had asked, still carried a hint of trepidation. Therese knew how proud Carol was, and how difficult it must have been to ask a second time. Therese lifted her head.
"More than anything, more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life".
Something flashed across Carol's eyes, a look of mistrust. "You are sure? Because yesterday you said something quite different".
Therese unpeeled herself from Carol's embrace and sat upright in the bed, pulling the covers over her breasts. She felt the beauty of their moment shrivel and die around them. The room felt colder and darker, even though the morning sun was now streaming in.
Carol moved over and reached for her cigarettes. Propping herself up as she lit one, the aromatic scent soon filled the room, clouding the already thick atmosphere. Therese stared at the closed door of the bedroom. She took a deep breath.
"The truth is, I was still angry about you leaving me. I know now why you had to do it, and I know I was stupid and selfish of me to carry on holding onto it, but I resented you for it. And when we met, after you had lost Rindy," Carol flinched at the mention of the name but Therese continued "I felt that you were… trying to pick up where we left off like nothing had changed, but after those weeks apart, it just didn't feel the same. I didn't feel it would ever be like it had been before".
Carol took another drag of her cigarette. As she leaned and knocked it over the ashtray placed on the bedside table she asked disinterestedly, "So what made you change your mind?".
Therese pushed up her knees under the covers and hunched her shoulders and arms over them.
"At the party I went to after we left the Ritz, I met this woman, an actress. Genevieve Cranell."
"Never heard of her" Carol exhaled the last of her cigarette and distractedly ground it down into the ashtray.
"Well, she is playing the lead in a show, Harvkey introduced me to her. Anyway, I, I had a sense she had…similar inclinations…". Therese hesitated for a second.
Carol looked at her quizzically, "Go on".
"I thought she was attracted to me. And I was attracted to her as well. I felt excited by it, giddy, like a stupid teenage girl with a crush. She invited me for drinks in her suite, some party of some sort and I was going to go with her…Then suddenly, I realised."
"Realised what?".
Therese looked over, her eyes veiled with a thin layer of tears.
"I could never love her the way I love you. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. I knew that if I went with her, I would have woken up in a strange room, hating myself for not being with you. And then I realised, you had offered me a chance to be together, really together, and because I had been so full of resentment I had nearly thrown it away".
Carol frowned for a second as if she hadn't heard correctly, but then her face softened. She moved over and put her arms around Therese's shoulders, kissing the tears beginning to fall down Therese's cheeks. Therese clung to her as Carol pushed her gently onto her back. She held Carol's face in her hands as they kissed, their tongues combining together. She remembered how Richard had tried to kiss her that way, and how it had felt so unnatural and wrong. With Carol it felt like the most natural thing in the world, like their mouths had been created for it. Carol began to move slowly over Therese's breasts, her ribs, kissing her way down. But something made Therese hold back. She touched Carol's head, and whispered "stop".
Carol looked up at her, confused. "I want to touch you" said Therese, her voice quiet but assured. She did not know where this sudden boldness had come from, but she felt it uncoiling like a spring inside of her, rippling through her body. Therese pulled Carol's leg over her hips, and touched her gently as she moaned softly, her hands grasping at Therese's shoulders, moving to her face and into her hair. Therese shifted to lie on her, still touching Carol as they moved together feeling Carol's fingers digging into her back, pressuring their bodies to meld even more, before the tension finally broke leaving them quaking and gasping into each other's mouths. Exhausted and panting, Therese lay with her head on Carol's chest, losing herself with the rise and fall of Carol's breaths. She slowly lifted her head and looked into Carol's eyes. She felt as if a needle had pierced through her heart, and a single thread been pulled through between them, a connection that could never be broken, that something existed between them that defied earth and time and space. That truly they now were one.
They lay naked in each other's arms until mid-afternoon at which Carol eventually decided that that was enough. Despite protestations from Therese, she rose from the bed and pulled on her robe which was tangled at the bottom of the bed, chiding "the world is still turning" and "One cannot lie around all day". Therese was inclined to disagree, she felt she could have stayed in bed for ever. However begrudgingly she realised that Carol was right, the world was still going on around them regardless and she had to engage with it. She could hear Carol clattering around in the kitchen making coffee. Reluctantly and with an enormous sigh, Therese heaved herself from the bed and carried on with what was left of the day.
Later that evening, Therese's meeting with Harkvey had gone well and he was pleased with her suggestions. He wanted her to start on the models straightaway and told her to be at the television studio the following day. She could not wait to get home and tell Carol. She had declined Harkvey's invitation for drinks with the cast, she just wanted to be home with Carol in their sanctuary away from the world. She rushed back to the apartment block and fumbled for the spare key outside the door, now her key. Carol had given it to her before they had both left the apartment, placing it ceremoniously in Therese's hand and folding her fingers over it. Therese held it tightly as if she had been given a precious stone or a diamond. It was worth more than any of those.
As she turned the key in the lock and pushed the door she heard sounds of laughter coming from the lounge. Walking through the small hallway with a sinking heart she saw Abby and Carol on the sofa, drinks and cigarettes in hand. They stopped laughing when she came in. Abby got up, throwing her arms around her.
"Good to see you Therese! How are you?" she asked, always speaking in exclamations.
"Fine…thank you, lovely to see you too" Therese replied unconvincingly. She was never sure about Abby. She reminded her of a tropical fish, beautiful and poised but ready to sting at any moment. Abby ushered Therese to sit and Carol went back into the kitchen, returning with more drinks. They continued their conversation, lasciviously gossiping about a woman they had both known from their childhood. Therese sat there, feeling like an outsider. As the evening wore on they ran out of soda water, and Carol round to the corner store to fetch some, leaving them alone.
Abby began to speak animatedly about a woman she had a crush on at a bookshop, describing how she always taking suggestively titled novels up to the counter. She laughed as she told the story and Therese tried to reciprocate but she couldn't seem to show enthusiasm in the right places, and the anecdote fell flat, like an egg dropped to the floor. Therese's thoughts were clouded with jealousy once again. Every time she saw Abby she thought of her and Carol together, of all the wonderful first experiences and pleasures Carol had had with Abby before her, how Abby was the first person she had loved. The jealousy gripped her throat and she could hardly breathe.
As if she could somehow read Therese's thoughts, Abby said into the silence "There's no need to be jealous you know".
"What?" Therese shot back, embarrassed that her feelings had been so clearly written on her face.
"Of Carol and me. There's no need".
"I'm sorry Abby," Therese sighed.
Abby picked at the bright varnish on one of her nails. "I've seen the way she looks at you Therese. She looks at you like…like you are her answer to everything in the world. I've never seen her look that way at anyone before," she smiled sadly for a moment, "even me".
She turned to Therese. "The truth is, she and I would never have worked out. As friends, always, we have known each other all our lives, but as lovers no. I loved socialising and going to parties, being around big groups of people. She never wanted that. Yes she loves being the centre of her small circles, but she is quite an introvert at heart, quite serious at times. I am too boisterous, too rowdy for her".
Therese felt a sudden pang of sorrow for Abby. Perhaps they had more in common than she had thought. They had both loved Carol, but all Abby had were the most painful feelings of all, a continued love for Carol that would never be requited. Therese reached out and touched Abby's arm. "Thank you" she said.
Abby placed her hand over Therese's and gave her a nod. They sprung apart as they heard the front door unlock and the sound of Carol's heels clicking through the hall. "What's going on here?" she asked benignly as she came into the lounge.
Abby, reverting back to her usual animated state laughed and said "Well I was just telling Therese about how I plan to take The Well of Loneliness up to the rather cute clerk at the bookstore and see what she makes of it".
Carol laughed, "Oh you".
As Abby was leaving Therese hugged her goodbye. They clasped each other tightly, a new understanding between them. Therese felt that for the first time she liked Abby, and would even call her a friend. Abby gave Carol a kiss on each cheek and Carol shut the door behind them. At last they were alone.
Carol suddenly grabbed Therese and pushed her against the wall, her hands in her hair, kissing her hard.
"My goodness, I have been wanting to do that since you walked in", she said breathlessly, "Abby was in the neighbourhood though and popped round, I couldn't not invite her in could I?".
"No, no it's fine" Therese felt light headed, with Carol's lips less than an inch away from hers.
They walked into the lounge, their arms round each other's waists. Therese helped Carol take the glasses into the kitchen and wash them. The radio was on in the background and as Carol dried the last glass, a recording of (I love you) For sentimental reasons by Nat King Cole began to play.
Therese looked at Carol and smiled shyly. Carol set the last glass carefully in the cupboard, and smiling back, held out her hand, pulling Therese into an embrace. They slowly swayed together to the music, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Therese pressed her face into Carol's shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling the comforting weight of Carol's hand caressing her neck.
As the song came to an end, they gazed into each other's eyes. Therese realised what Abby had been talking about. The way Carol was looking at her, the feel of Carol's body pressed against hers combined with the music made her swoon. She felt like she was hovering above the ground, as if the tips of her toes were skimming the clouds. Carol took Therese's face in her hands, moving in as if to kiss her.
"You take my breath away," she whispered.
"Take me to bed Carol" came the desperate reply.
Once Therese had moved into the apartment, their lives quickly took on a routine. Carol would not have to be at the furniture shop until ten, and Therese would not have to be at the theatre until lunchtime, so mornings were theirs together. Each morning she woke with Carol next to her felt like a dream that she was fearful of waking from, but as the months went by, the feeling gradually assuaged. She felt safe in Carol's arms. Nobody could tear them apart now.
She no longer trembled at the thought of touching Carol. When they made love she felt equal. But still even after months of living together, the sound of Carol's key in the door, her freckled hands as they caressed her cigarettes, her voice on the telephone always made Therese's heart beat faster.
Their love making, at first so frequent and new and exciting also began to ease. Therese's work kept her extremely busy, especially in the run up to a show, and she would often arrive home late. But no matter how stressful the day, being able to crawl into bed with Carol, who would sleepily pull her into an embrace, made all the pressures fall from her shoulders like the leaves which were now beginning to bunch around the sidewalks that they strode down. Carol's furniture business was thriving, thanks to the natural talent she seemed to have for carefully choosing objects and making them come to life. It was as if she poured a small part of herself into each item and brought an attractiveness to them just by touching them with her hands.
Even though their lives seemed complete Therese knew how much Carol missed Rindy. She could only see her a few afternoons out of the year, and all the time with an officer accompanying them. Each time Carol came back from one of those awful afternoons, Therese saw a small piece of her die. She would sit in silence with a cigarette and rye before taking herself to bed early in the spare room. It upset Therese to see her that way but there was nothing anybody could do. She was powerless, a disgrace in the eyes of the courts, dangerous even.
Harge was ruthless. He would book treats for Rindy such as horse riding or trips to the zoo when Carol was due to see her, and Carol would always relent and allow her to go, melting at the excitement in her daughter's eyes. Rindy began to parrot phrases that only Harge could have inspired. Carol came home in floods of tears after hearing Rindy say "my real mother would have stayed with Daddy and me". She would send letters, cards and presents to Rindy every few days, but it became clear that Rindy hadn't received any of them. Carol suspected that Harge had been intercepting the mail.
One day, Rindy had said she didn't want to see Carol anymore, and had refused to come downstairs. It seemed that Harge's sustained campaign of poisoning his daughter's mind against her mother had succeeded. When she had finally lost Rindy, Carol sunk into a deep depression, not bothering to go to work or even get dressed. Therese was so concerned that she rang Abby, pouring out her worries down the phone to her, clutching the receiver as if it were a magic wand that she could wave and solve everything. Abby's voice had provided little comfort, merely repeating "she is strong, she will be all right you must give her time", but Therese didn't see how. She would periodically check in on Carol, who would often be lying on one side of the bed with her hands under the pillow, staring into nothingness. Therese would put her arms round her and try to comfort her, but she felt like she was embracing marble. Carol felt so stiff and cold.
Weeks went by and Carol was much the same. Therese was at a loss of what to do. She thought they were so strong, that nothing in the world could destroy them, but she feared that losing Rindy was too much. She began to feel as lonely as she had done when Carol had left her to go back to New York. In a way she felt responsible, that she was the reason Carol was so unhappy. The apartment felt like a morgue, a deathly silence so thick that Therese could not bear to be there. She started throwing herself more into her work, spending less time at home. A production assistant had been flirting with her, and Therese flirted back. One night the cast and crew had all gone out and the girl had tipsily tried to kiss her in the restroom of the bar. She had resisted, and though she was wracked with guilt after, she felt a twinge of excitement for the first time in a long time.
In the last week of production Therese had been invited to a party but had decided not to go. The incident with the assistant had shaken her, and she was fearful about what would happen if she saw the assistant again. That evening as she made the journey back to Madison Avenue, she tried to think of the happier times with Carol: the road trip, the times they had laughed together, the places they had visited, Carol's grey eyes sparkling as she made a disparaging comment. The memories took her all the way home, until she was outside their front door uneasily turning the key in the lock.
As she opened the door, the sound of "Easy Living" hit her, as if she had been physically struck in the face. She walked slowly through the hall to the kitchen, confused, as though she were an intruder in the wrong apartment. The table was laid and accompanied by a bottle of wine and two glasses. A delicious smell was coming from the oven.
"Darling you're home" came a voice.
It made Therese jump and she gave a scream, clutching her heart. She turned around, and there was Carol. She was wearing a blue dress, her hair was styled and lips were perfectly painted. At that moment she had never looked so beautiful. Therese felt the wind knocked out of her and could barely speak.
"You haven't even taken your coat off silly billy" Carol laughed softly. She helped her out of it and went to hang it up. Therese stared after her, frozen to the spot as Carol breezed past and began to pour the wine.
"Florence would usually do a lot of the cooking at home", she said casually, "But I had a go this evening and I must say I quite enjoyed it". She looked up at Therese and gestured to a chair at the table, "Bon appetite".
Therese felt tears prickle in her eyes. She was back, her strong beautiful Carol was back. The one who could confront a detective on the road, who could fire a gun, who could break the speed limit and light a cigarette at the same time. The one who knew more curse words than a sailor. It became too much. "Oh Carol!" Therese wept, putting her hand to her eyes. Carol set the wine bottle down and came to her, putting her arms around her and rubbing her back gently as Therese sniffed like a small girl. "There there my little crybaby,no tears now", she said gently rubbing away a tear from Therese's face with her thumb.
"I'm sorry I've been in such a wretched slump over Rindy. I know I haven't been very easy these past few weeks, but as a mother it is the hardest thing to let your child go. But one has to move on from these things. It took me a while to realise it, but in the end I didn't lose everything. I still have you, and that is what matters now".
She squeezed Therese's shoulders and said firmly "Now I want you to sit down, eat and tell me all about your day". Therese gave a wobbly smile back and moved towards the table.
That night, Carol didn't go to the spare room.
During the very act, just before the passion broke within them, Carol had whispered "I love you" in Therese's ear, like a secret that only the two of them knew as they clung to each other trembling. Therese felt Carol's arms quickly encircle her from behind. One arm under her neck and round her shoulders, the other slipping over her stomach, holding her tightly. Therese could feel Carol's warm breath on her neck, her chest rising and falling against her back as she drifted into sleep. Therese clasped her hand around Carol's wrist and pressed her face into it, feeling the delicate throb of Carol's pulse against her cheek. All was right again with the world.
"Would you like to go to Paris?"
Therese flapped down the latest script she had been reading and stared hard at Carol. It was a Monday afternoon, the equivalent of a Sunday for them. They were lying at opposite ends of the sofa, their legs mixed together. The radio was on, the faint sound of Billie Holiday struggling to be heard over the heavy rain bashing against the windows.
"Paris?" Therese repeated.
"Yes. A client of mine has an apartment there. He says we can use it this summer if we wish". Carol replied.
Therese felt jealously pop within her like hot fat sizzling in a pan. Who was this person, and why was he offering his apartment so freely? She tried to keep an even tone in her voice. "Who is this client?".
Carol looked at her narrowly. She placed the bookmark carefully at the page she was reading and took off her glasses, twirling the arm of them between her fingers.
"If you must know, he is a regular client of mine, very interested in antique furniture. He is frightfully wealthy, family money. And also he is a quite a fruit".
Laughter erupted from Therese's mouth. "That explains the love of antique furniture" . A smile broke across Carol's face, "Yes, you might say that quite a lot of my clients have that in common," she laughed, "So are you interested?".
Paris? Of course she was interested. It was somewhere she had always wanted to go, so romantic and beautiful. She thought of sets she had helped design, the Parisian backdrops and how she had longed to experience the real thing. When Richard had asked her to go to Europe her absence of excitement had been palpable. But to go to Paris with Carol… to share together the new sights and smells, the language, the architecture, the food; it would be beyond wonderful.
"I'd love to" she replied simply.
Carol returned to her book and put her glasses back on. "Then it's settled. Find the time off work and we shall go".
She turned back to the script. It was an off broadway show, some murder mystery set in the 1920s. She had no idea where to even start with the models. She threw the script down with distaste and commented, "How about now?".
Carol's client's apartment was in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Full of cafes, artists and bohemians, it buzzed with the feel of a place where the sight of two women discreetly touching hands across a table did not raise any eyebrows. In a place where the inhabitants had seen everything before, they felt freer here than they had done in years. They travelled all over Paris, walking down the cobbled streets, eating in restaurants, buying postcards from the artists' markets around the Sacre Coeur. They posted pink macaroons to Abby, "if they make it without the postman eating them" Carol complained.
A small heat wave gripped the city for a day whilst they were there, and in the afternoon it was too hot to go out. The small but sumptuous apartment that Carol's client owned was one large room with a roll bathtub near the balcony window. Arriving back from a sweaty morning excursion to the Eiffel Tower, they filled the bath and got in, sighing in unison at the refreshing coolness of the water. Therese lay between Carol's legs, her back against Carol's torso as she idly adjusted the lens on her camera. Carol smoked a cigarette, one arm stretched across the rim of the bath looking out onto the balcony and the street beyond. The apartment was in the café quarter, and the sound of Gigi Gryce "Paris the Beautiful" played out from one of the establishments beneath them.
"Will you put that thing down" complained Carol. Being deliberately obstinate Therese turned to face Carol and snapped a picture. She sighed exasperatedly, "For goodness sake Therese".
"Just a few more" Therese pleaded. Carol looked at her annoyed but did not argue. It was too hot. She coquettishly looked out the window or at her hands and every so often, but each time Therese went to click the shutter, Carol would look up directly into the lens.
"Carol you are beautiful" Therese gushed.
Carol moved towards to her, causing the water to slap lightly against the bath. She kissed Therese slowly, sucking on her bottom lip. Therese carefully placed the camera down on the floor and returned the kiss, their tongues meshing together lazily. Therese snaked her arms around Carol's neck as the sound of the jazz music grew louder in her ears, exhaling sharply as she felt Carol's hand first begin to softly graze her nipple, before moving lower down towards her stomach.
Therese felt her head start spinning with desire but managed to stammer "not in here, in bed, love me in bed".
They carefully rose from the bath and dried each other with towels, the arousal between them growing stronger. Carol led Therese by the hand and pulled her onto the bed as they melted together into the sheets, the scent of summer clinging to their skins as they buried their faces in each other's necks and hair. Therese kissed her way down Carol's body, pausing between her legs for a second before caressing her with her tongue. Carol's hips writhed beneath her, her moans becoming louder and soon she felt Carol's hands tugging through her hair as she finally gave in to the pleasure. Smiling to herself for a second, Therese unhurriedly moved up Carol's body, hovering her face above Carol's, unsure whether to kiss her. Making the decision for them both, Carol leaned in and kissed her hungrily before sitting up and pulling Therese onto her lap. She was unsure of what was happening, but an instinct within her caused her to wrap her legs around Carol's hips, feeling the faint prickle of the hair between Carol's legs brushing against her own. She breathed in sharply as Carol slid her hand between them and holding the other hand against Therese's lower back, she pushed her fingers gently inside. Therese moaned at the ecstasy of it digging her fingernails deep into Carol's shoulder and clutching at the back of Carol's hair, as Carol moved them together in perfect rhythm. Feeling the tension beginning to build inside her, an animalistic urge took over her body and she began to move hard against Carol's fingers, sounds coming from her mouth that she never thought possible. Suddenly she felt an explosion within her and cried out loudly as if she had been burnt, her pleasure rolling and breaking like waves as she slowed, gasping into Carol's mouth.
Taking all her strength Therese gently moved off Carol and fell onto her back, her head at the foot of the bed. Her entire body felt as if it was made of jelly, the sweat from her back causing the bedsheets to cling to her. Her eyes were screwed shut with exertion as her stomach concaved further inward with each breath that she took. She flung one arm over her eyes, and repeated over and over again "oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh". Carol crawled over and lay down next to her, propping herself up on her elbow and looking at Therese's prostrate and weakened body with an ever growing amusement.
Therese removed her arm from her eyes and turned her head to Carol.
"Have you ever done that before?" she asked breathlessly.
"I haven't no," shrugged Carol, "though I must say, it makes one feel awfully powerful, like a man must feel".
Therese was pleased that it was something new for them both, an experience that Carol had had only with her. At long last she began to breathe normally, and her senses began to retune. She could hear the outside sounds of the Parisian street: the soft put-put of the car engines, male and female voices shouting beautiful words to each other that she couldn't understand but still loved to listen to. The downstairs café was still playing music, and the faint sounds of Line Renaud's Moulin Rouge floated softly on the air. Carol moved over to her and kissed her, a slow deep kiss that made Therese's heart quicken again. As she smoothed her hand through Therese's hair, gently stroking her forehead with her thumb, she said softly "You know you have ruined me don't you?".
Therese's eyes widened in alarm. "What do you mean?"
Carol continued, "I could never love anybody else now".
Therese took Carol's face in her hands and looked into her eyes. They looked different now, now that the final piece of armour had disappeared. For the first time, Therese felt that Carol was as vulnerable as she was, that any resistance she had been holding onto about her feelings had drifted away floating on the air with the music out on the street. Therese looked deeper. She could see herself reflected back in Carol's eyes, as if she was now a part of Carol, and Carol a part of her. She had never felt so sure of anything.
"I know" , she replied.
It was a perfect Parisian evening, and the heat had subsided enough for them to venture out and buy ice creams, eating them as they walked along the Seine. They stopped for a while on the bridge, a perfect spot for Therese to take pictures of the Notre Dame as the sun began to set over the river. A boat carrying eager tourists slowly chugged its way down, the sounds of its engine mixing with laughter and the faint melodies coming from various jazz bars on the air. Therese felt as if she had walked into a painting, as if she could reach out and touch the scene in front of her. The Notre Dame looked like it was made of paper and she felt she could reach out, fold it up and put it in her pocket.
Therese put her camera away in her bag and leaned both arms on the wall of the bridge. She felt Carol standing close beside her, their shoulders touching .The sky had turned a deep orange, its shadows spreading out, the river looking like treacle spilling across the landscape. Carol's hand pushed under her arm and took hold of Therese's, their fingers clasping together, shrouded by the privacy of the wall. Therese looked at their hands interlaced and smiled, before gazing out onto the river. A V of birds flew ahead of them, their silhouettes absorbing into the growing shadows of the evening as a warm breeze blew past, slightly ruffling Therese's hair and causing a lock to fall away from behind her ear. Carol reached over and tucked it back, her hand remaining on Therese's cheek.
As she turned to face her, Therese could see the look in Carol's eyes. She knew then that Carol loved her, and would always love her. Like the river stretching out into the distance, she could see their lives before them. Of course, there would be times when they quarrelled and bickered, when they would say hurtful and bitter words to each other, when doors would slam and voices would be raised and she would question whether Carol loved her at all. But there would be so many wonderful moments too. Mornings together, evenings together, sex, travel, plays, movies, parties, dancing, music, walks, birthdays, Christmases, celebrations. And love. Always they would love, a deep enduring love that nothing could ever break. They would always have each other, together for always, in good and bad, in heaven and in hell.
Suddenly Carol kissed her lips. It was a quick movement, so quick that none of the people trundling past them on the bridge even saw it. But to Therese it felt in that moment as if time had stood still, that nothing in the world existed apart from Carol's lips against hers. She felt as if they were standing at the top of a mountain, safe and protected from the world below them. That in that moment nothing could ever break them.
45 years later
The senator stood looking out of the office window, lost in the slow steady journey of the boats as they trailed slowly by across the river. It was an early afternoon in summer and work seemed to be the last thing on everyone's minds. Suddenly the intercom buzzed, shattering the serenity like a lightening bolt to the brain.
"Senator, there is a woman here, she is asking to see you" came the secretary's nasal voice.
"Does she have an appointment?" the senator asked impatiently, annoyed at the intrusion.
"No she doesn't. She has a box with her, and she insisted that she gives it to you in person. We had it scanned, there's nothing much in there, just some letters and postcards and junk. We said we would pass it on but she said she insisted on giving it to you personally".
The senator looked down at the desk piled with papers. The word processor blinked sedately, its cursor flicking on and off on a policy document waiting to be finished. Anything to detract from this would be welcome. And like any good politician her thoughts drifted to re-election time. A senator being accommodating to a potential voter could only be good for the polls.
"For God's sake", grumbled the senator, "has she been searched?"
"Yes senator, no weapons, literally just a box of junk," replied the secretary, before adding cryptically "she says she knew your mother".
The senator felt a shock pass through her. Her mother? She had not seen her mother since she was a child. She knew nothing about her. All she knew was that she had lived in New York, and according to her father had walked out on them when she herself was very young. Her mother had never been anything more than the dim memory of a tall blond woman in a fur coat hugging her in a car. She could remember the feeling of the seatbelt against her chest, but not the warmth of the arms or a kiss on her head. And now someone was here, who claimed she knew her. Suddenly her mother became an actual person, a being that had lived and breathed, not someone banished to the backend of memory. She felt slightly nauseous.
"Senator?"
"Er, yes um send her in".
She sat down in her chair, apprehension creeping over her body. She glanced at the documents on her desk, the words seemed to jumble and bleed into each other. She felt dizzy. A few minutes later the sound of feet clattered towards the office door. The secretary knocked and opened, before shouting back "Right this way mam".
A lady walked in, clutching a shoe box between her hands. She looked around the office, impressed at the lavish decoration and the stunning view of the river.
"Let me help you with that" offered the senator, reaching for the box and placing it on her desk.
"Oh thank you," replied the woman.
"Do sit down" the senator gestured her hand to one of the chairs opposite the desk. She sat down, idly tapping her finger on the edge of the desk as she studied the woman closely. She must have been in her mid sixties, her grey hair tied into a bun. Her brown eyes glistened and she smiled shyly, her cheekbones sculpting themselves along her face.
Breaking the silence the senator asked, "Can I offer you a drink?"
"Oh no thank you, I won't stay long, thank you for seeing me Senator Matthews".
"Please, call me Rindy" she replied cordially.
The woman looked at Rindy in a way that unsettled her. It was as if they had met before, yet she had no recollection of her face. She struggled to think of all the people from the various fund raisers, benefits and parties, but she couldn't place the woman at any of them.
"So, how can I help you, Mrs er…"
"Therese", replied the woman "Therese Believet".
The name was not familiar, but she continued regardless. "Therese, yes, what can I do for you?" she asked.
Therese looked out the window, and Rindy followed her gaze. The tug boats had vanished now, and the sun was balancing on the stillness of the river, turning the evening a deep shade of yellow. Still looking out the window, Therese spoke, almost to herself.
"I knew your mother" she said.
Rindy took a deep breath and replied, "Well I'm sorry to tell you that she died recently".
"I know", replied Therese turning her head to face her, "I was with her when it happened".
Rindy sat straighter in her chair, slightly taken aback. Therese continued, "I knew her for a long time, over forty years. We were very close friends". The way that she spoke, the softness in her voice when she mentioned her mother, caused Rindy to suspect that there was so much more that she didn't know.
Therese gently placed her palm on the box, her hand caressing it for a second.
"What's in it?" Rindy asked, desperately trying to appear that she had control of the situation when really it felt like sand slipping between her fingers.
"It's some things I believe she wanted you to have" Therese replied. She looked down at her hand on the box then brought her eyes back up to Rindy's face. "It took me a while to find you. Obviously when you got married you changed your name. But then one day I opened the paper and I found an article on some high flying lawyer called Rindy Matthews who was taking the political world by storm. The second I saw your picture I knew." She added wistfully, "you look so much like her".
Rindy felt her ears redden. Who exactly was this woman? She was growing more and more perplexed, more and more unsettled by the way she was looking at her. She felt hundreds of questions buzzing around in her brain, too many to articulate, too many to choose.
Therese spoke, breaking Rindy from her thoughts. "I don't want to take up too much of your time Senator, I just wanted to drop these off". She got up slowly to leave.
"Wait a minute" Rindy said half leaping out of her chair.
Therese rummaged in her bag and brought out an envelope.
"This will explain more," she said, "but I beg you, don't read it first. If after, you want to speak again, my phone number is at the bottom". She handed the envelope over and walked towards the door. Before she opened it, she turned round for one last look around the office and then to Rindy.
"It was lovely to meet you properly Rindy…at last".
Rindy remained sitting for a couple of minutes staring at the empty chair where Therese had sat. She guessed she was still in shock, and struggled to keep her voice steady as she buzzed the intercom with a shaking hand. She instructed her secretary to cancel all her appointments, that she had some urgent work to focus on and she couldn't be disturbed. Next she picked up the phone and called her husband.
He answered after a few rings. Trying to keep her voice as calm as possible, she told him that she would have to work late, and could he collect the children from school. She hated lying to him, but she knew she needed to preserve this moment for herself for just a bit longer. He replied that it was fine. He was always so supportive of her, and she felt a lump in throat. She told him that she loved him, and that she was sorry that work had got in the way of spending time with him and the children. He sounded concerned. "Is everything alright darling?" he asked. "Yes, fine darling" she replied, unconvincingly.
She hung up the receiver and took a deep breath. She reached for the box and gingerly lifted the lid before peering inside.
A few hours later, the sun had set and the only light in the whole building came from the small lamp on Rindy's desk. She sat there, tears tricking down her face. Spread across the elegant mahogany of her desk covering the documents and briefs she still had to read, were birthday cards, Christmas cards, postcards, and letters, each one carefully written by her mother in beautiful sloping handwriting. Postcards from all over the world: London, Paris, Berlin, Lisbon, Chicago, Dublin, Rome, Venice, Reykjavik. Her mother had travelled all over the world, and had written her a postcard from every single place. She ended each one with "wish you were here, love your Mother, Carol". Rindy felt a fresh pang of sadness every time she saw that each item had been addressed to a "Miss R Aird", but with the address box left blank. Obviously her father had never told her mother where they had moved to.
She had been so close to her father, it was always just the two of them. He had never remarried, and had raised her by himself, had been there for all the difficult times she had growing up. He refused to speak about her mother, and when she had asked he shut down, crossly saying Carol hadn't wanted her, and not to mention her again. Eventually she stopped trying, and managed to cope through life without her. When Harge dropped dead on a golf course some ten years ago, taking all knowledge of her mother with him to the grave, Rindy considered trying to find her, but by then she had a family of her own and a fledgling political career that took up so much of her time. What was the point in trying to make up for over forty years of nothing?
But now, from the letters and cards spilling over her desk, it was clear that her mother had not forgotten about her. Every day she was in her mind, the letters full of questions that her mother had tried to answer herself. She reread a paragraph from one again, "I wonder what you are doing, now that you are grown up my girl" Carol had written. "I imagine you perhaps are a career woman, flying high in a job somewhere, living a wonderful exciting life in the city. Or perhaps you are a mother yourself, married and happy somewhere in the suburbs, with children and a white picket fence. Either way, whatever you are I want you to know that I am proud of you. I know that you are already a better woman than I will ever be".
Rindy folded the letter in her hand, clutching it tightly to her chest. She thought of all the moments her mother had missed – her first cycle, her first prom date, the morning of her wedding day, her first child. All those moments when she had needed her. "I'm sorry" she whispered out loud, though whether it was to Carol or herself, she didn't know.
She looked into the box again, seeing if there was something she had missed. It was empty, everything spread out across the desk having been read and reread several times. She felt as if she had lost her mother for the first time all over again, yet she could hear her voice in her letters, as if she was present in the room. She tried to picture her, screwing her eyes closed trying to retrieve a shred of a memory, the smell of her mother's perfume, the colour of her hair, but she couldn't. All she had left were the letters and cards, the last reminder of a woman she never knew. Rindy gathered them all up and carefully placed them back in the box. Suddenly she noticed that there was one envelope she hadn't opened. It was the one from Therese.
She tore carefully at the opening of it with her thumbnail, not wanting to rip the contents inside. It was another letter, handwritten. She began to read.
Dear Rindy,
Please excuse me for the way I approached you today. I know much of it must have come as a shock. I have struggled with whether I should have even contacted you at all, but there is always more than one side to a story, and I wanted to tell you the side you probably never got to hear.
I met your mother when I was just nineteen. I was working in a department store at Christmas in the toy section when she came in, looking for a present for you. The second I saw her, I think I fell in love with her there and then. She came over to me behind the counter, and that was it. Even though we had never met, I felt that we had known each other all our lives. I didn't understand what the feeling was, there were no words for it back all those years ago, but it was something I had never experienced before. She and your father were going through a bitter divorce, and she wanted to escape it, and she invited me on a trip. We drove across the country together and we ended up falling deeply in love. But your father had sent a detective to tail us, who had set up recording equipment in one of the rooms we stayed in. Your mother found out that if she wanted to keep seeing you, she could not be with me. These were different times to how they are now, there was very little anybody in our situations could do. I want you to know that in the first instance she chose you, and she came back to fight for you in the courts. She said she couldn't see me because it would mean not being able to have you. It was terrible for us both, but what she had to face with those hearings was something no person should have to face. I know that she was so proud and brave, she never cowered in even the most awful of situations. But eventually it became clear that your father was threatening to use the evidence from the detective in the courts, and she couldn't fight it any more. She simply surrendered.
Your father made it very difficult for her to see you. She never blamed you for anything and when she lost contact with you, I had never seen her so melancholic. She did not eat for days or even leave the house when she lost you. Even though she eventually pulled herself out of it she never forgot you. We travelled all over the world together, and every trip we went on, she would look at gifts and ask aloud, almost to herself, which of them you would like. You were always at the forefront of her mind. She was always so proud of you, and always thought that one day you might change the world. From the article I read about you in the paper recently, I have a feeling she was right.
Your mother and I spent over forty years together. We shared an apartment on Madison Avenue, and she worked as a buyer for a furniture store. She had such a talent for picking things out and bringing them to life, much like I think she did with me. Even though we had our moments, as any pair of people in love with each other have sometimes, we were able to make a life for ourselves, one that brought us both happiness, a happiness that I never thought I could have.
She died in her sleep three years ago this November. One morning I woke up and she had just gone. The doctors said it was probably a stroke or an aneurysm, that she didn't feel anything. Part of me knew that was how she had wanted to go, quietly and peacefully, not causing any fuss. We always used to take walks through Central Park in spring, and so I took her ashes to be scattered there. I think that is what she would have wanted.
When I was finally able to clear out her things, I came across the box at the bottom of the closet, where I found all the things that she had ever written to you. I had no idea about any of it and it came as a shock to realise that she had been keeping this secret all this time. I didn't read them, but part of me was sure that deep down she would have wanted you to have them.
I have always carried guilt that I was responsible for you not having your mother around when you were young. There is a certain irony in that I grew up without a mother, but then I went on to deprive you of yours. I know that she wasn't happy with your father, and now I think I am able to feel sorry for him. He loved your mother, just as I did, but for him she could not return it. He tried to use you as a bargaining chip for her to stay. Desperate men will do desperate things. She knew that if she stayed she would have not been happy, and she would have ended up resenting you for it. Your father adored you, and she was sure that with him you would have all the happiness in the world. The idea of dragging you through such awful pain in the courts was worse to her than not seeing you at all.
I know you never really knew her, but she was a proud person, beautiful, intelligent, witty. She knew more curse words than a sailor and wasn't afraid of using them. But she was passionate and brave, and we loved, we really loved. She changed my life the second she came into it, she suffused it with colour and vibrancy for almost forty years. Now she has left, I don't think I am quite ready for the greyness that the world has to offer now…
I hope one day you can understand why she made the choices that she did, but please understand that the one choice she could never make was about who she was. It was a terrible thing for her to have to decide between the two people she loved, and even though she never showed it, I know the decision she had to make tore her up inside. You were always one of the great loves of her life, please don't forget that. I do not expect you to forgive me, but I hope that one day you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive her.
Therese Believet
Rindy exhaled as she finished the letter. There were still so many unanswered questions. She scanned again at the handwriting. It was small and neat, so unlike the illustrious scrawl of her mother's hand. The sun had set, and she couldn't see the river any more. In the gloom of her office, the only light seemed to come from Therese's letter, the words illuminated on the page. She looked over at the framed picture of her family, her husband, her two sons and daughter smiling back at her. At that moment all she wanted was to go home and hold them tightly in her arms.
She picked up Therese's envelope and examined it between her hands. There was something still in there, something that she hadn't noticed before. She slipped her fingers and pulled out a photograph. It was a colour picture of her mother on a beach, standing in the sea. Her trousers were rolled up to her knees, one knee slightly bent. She was wearing a white shirt with a red scarf wrapped round her neck, and her hair blowing away from her face. She was laughing, her hands clasped together, a slight reflection in sunglasses of a person holding a camera. The sun was shining brightly and the sky and the sea had merged into one colour behind her, as if nature was responding to the perfection of Carol.
Rindy studied the picture for a moment, smiling. In that snapshot, that moment of time frozen forever, her mother had looked happy. She felt that she understood what Therese had meant in her letter, at the sacrifices her mother had had to make to have a chance at some happiness.
There was so much for her to come to terms with, the feeling she had were raw and she didn't yet know if she would ever forgive her mother for not being there. But she knew that she wanted to know more about the person in the photograph, more about who she was, what she was like, how she had lived, and she knew that there was one person in the world who had known her better than anybody. She turned the image over, and saw in Therese's same neat writing the words Carol, New Maine 1960.
Rindy reached her fingers over to the telephone receiver, hovering for a split second. She picked up the phone and began to dial.
The End