there’s the man-attracting thing I told you about,’ Brigid adds.
‘Oh, I’m sure you’re right, but I’m so not looking for anyone right now.’
Brigid raises a brow. ‘Not even casually?’
‘No, not even that. God, I just feel … I don’t have the headspace for that.’
‘Not even just a quickie in the afternoon while the kids are in school?’
Kerry bursts out laughing. ‘God. No. No, thanks.’
‘Well,’ Brigid says, ‘maybe you should.’
Kerry looks at her and frowns. ‘Why? Do I seem … I don’t know … as if I sort of need it? Like I’m frustrated or something? Don’t tell me I’m giving off desperate vibes …’
‘No, I just mean, it’d be nice for you. You’re either teaching or writing your songs or looking after the children and, well, we all need a little treat sometimes.’
Kerry turns this possibility over in her mind. Even if she were to meet someone – and God knows how she’d do that – would she be capable of desiring a man, of unearthing her libido when her head is filled with shopping lists, school forms, Cuckoo Clock and teaching? When she forces herself to think about sex, she can’t imagine it ever feeling like a lovely, natural thing to do. If it were on the cards, she’d have to regard it as a project – like lagging the boiler – and mentally prepare herself for it.
‘I don’t have a sex drive any more,’ she confides. ‘Maybe it’s the whole Rob thing, or work – I mean, it’s hard to think about being naked with someone when you’re desperately trying to figure out lyrics about birds flying off to Africa for their winter holidays. It kind of kills it for me.’
Brigid eyes her solemnly. ‘Yes, I can imagine, but you still have needs, Kerry. You owe it to yourself.’
Kerry chuckles. ‘No, I think I’m going to turn into a withered old lady with a crocheted blanket over my knees, doing the puzzles in Woman’s Weekly.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake. You’re only thirty-seven. Men are always checking you out, you know.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ Kerry laughs witheringly and glances down the hill where the children are patting snow onto their snowman’s belly. In the distance, a tall figure is marching purposely along the whitened path; spotting him, Buddy tears away from the children and races towards him, leaping up in delight. ‘Oh, God,’ Kerry blurts out, charging down the hill, already apologising, then realising, as the man turns toward her, that it’s James. ‘I guess he’s just pleased to see you,’ she says with relief.
‘Hey, Buddy-boy. Good to see you too.’ James smiles and bends down to ruffle his fur.
Hot on Kerry’s heels, Brigid flashes James a big, bold smile as he straightens up.
‘Brigid,’ Kerry says, ‘this is James, Buddy’s previous owner.’
‘Nice to meet you, James.’ She tosses back her abundant fair hair. ‘Buddy’s such a character.’
‘Well,’ James says hesitantly, ‘he’s been through a lot over the past couple of years.’
‘Oh, what happened?’ Brigid asks, and Kerry flinches at her brazenness.
‘Um …’ James pauses, picking up a stick and throwing it in a huge arc for Buddy to chase. ‘I guess it started when we lost Suzie, then he got even worse when …’ He tails off and shrugs, as if having second thoughts about sharing it.
‘Oh.’ Kerry glances at Brigid, willing her not to fire any more questions.
‘Were they really close?’ Brigid fixes him with wide, concerned eyes.
‘Yes, inseparable really.’ He looks down at Buddy, who’s brought the stick back to him and dropped it at his feet. ‘It was very sudden, you see. The worst part was, it was completely my fault.’
Kerry frowns. ‘God, James, how awful for you.’
‘I reversed over her,’ he adds quietly.
‘What?’ Kerry blurts out. ‘That’s terrible …’
‘You poor, poor man,’ Brigid exclaims.
‘Oh,’ he adds, throwing the stick again, ‘it was awful, and of course I wish it hadn’t happened. But she was getting on a bit, she had terrible arthritis and was incontinent …’
Kerry blinks at him, unable to scrabble together an appropriate response. So James ran over his wife, yet is implying that, as she had health issues, it wasn’t such a tragedy? She looks over to where the children are gathering up twigs for their snowman’s hair. Adding a pleasing finishing touch, Joe manages to locate a dropped cigarette butt – possibly the only one in Shorling – and jabs it into the snowman’s mouth.
‘So I guess Buddy had a lot of readjusting to do,’ Brigid murmurs.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ James says.
Kerry catches Brigid’s eye, wondering how to shift the conversation towards lighter territory, like how things are going at the sandwich shop.
‘I did think about getting another one,’ James adds.
‘Another wife?’ Kerry gasps. ‘Well … I suppose there’s nothing wrong with wanting to meet someone else. I, er … guess you had to move on …’ She wants to leave the park now, maybe head for the seafront and treat everyone to an extortionately priced hot chocolate with whipped cream. She realises James is studying her intently, a look of incredulity in his soft grey eyes.
‘No,’ he says carefully, ‘I mean, I thought of getting another dog.’
Kerry blinks at him. ‘Did you think that might help? Getting another pet, I mean, after losing your wife …’
‘I didn’t lose my wife,’ he says levelly. ‘She left. Met someone else.’
‘Oh, I thought you meant you’d run over her!’ Brigid exclaims with a great barking laugh.
‘So did I,’ says Kerry, blushing furiously, ‘and that maybe it was for the best what with her arthritis and incontinence and …’
James gawps at Kerry and Brigid in turn. ‘You think I reversed over my arthritic, incontinent wife?’
‘Well … yes.’ Kerry tries to trap a laugh. ‘I misunderstood. I’m sorry.’ Her shoulders are shaking now, and she’s convulsing inside while trying to maintain a ridiculously solemn expression.
‘You assumed I’d reversed over my wife,’ James says, ‘and thought that was okay?’
‘No, no of course not,’ Kerry splutters.
‘Suzie was a King Charles spaniel,’ he says levelly.
‘Oh, I’m so glad,’ Kerry exclaims. ‘Not that she
