twenty – I can’t believe it. She’s here somewhere. As are Benjy and Kirsten, actually. I suppose the weddings have rather dried up since then, haven’t they? I shudder to think of the number of people I’ve not seen since Jonathan’s funeral.’
Misty murmured an apology. She would have gone to the funeral, but she and Eusebio were in Chile at the time. Karen brushed off her condolences but the word ‘funeral’ jarred Misty back to a sleety April day. A flat fenland churchyard and a gaggle of college friends in black, their heels sinking into the mud. She shivered, wondering if Karen was also thinking of the last funeral they did both attend together. Hoping to banish that from her mind, she asked tentatively how Karen had coped in the years since Jonathan’s death.
‘God, I’ve missed him every day. I mean, not like he ever did anything.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘He was a City dad, you know, expected a pat on the back if he was home for bath time once a week. Took them to the park at weekends and they’d come back missing a glove – or even a bike!’
Misty smiled. The set-up was familiar enough even if she’d never experienced it herself. ‘But they adored him, and he adored them. I had adult company when they went to bed and the chance to read a novel while he taught them to swim on holiday. Luckily, we’d made some investments and he had great life insurance cover – he was always very nerdy and cautious about that sort of stuff, which turned out to be a great blessing. So, I’ve had it easy compared to a lot of people.’
‘I bet it doesn’t always feel that way, though.’
‘No. It doesn’t.’ Karen’s deep inhalation signalled the end of that part of the conversation. ‘But what about you, Misty? Are you still with … Estabio?’
‘Eusebio. Yes. He’s just got back from a trip or he would have come along. I’m afraid Andrew was rather free with his invitations.’
‘And now he’s disappeared. It’s almost like he’s trying to be a very unsubtle matchmaker. So, are you married?’
‘No. I used to say “not yet”, but I think I’m probably safe to stick with “no”.’ She struggled to find a label for Eusebio. They were too old to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and she disliked the word ‘partner’. They had no children and his work took him back to South America for weeks on end. Most of her friends struggled a little to compute their relationship. In the scheme of things, Karen’s reasonable attempt at his name counted as a good effort. Her distraction had caused a pause in the conversation, which threatened to become awkward. Casting her mind about, she recalled the strange comment Andrew had made introducing them.
‘What did Andrew mean, about bringing you a ghost?’
‘Oh.’ Karen paused, flagging down a waitress to offer Misty some canapés. ‘You remember there was that terrorist incident on the tube a few weeks ago, the bomb that didn’t go off properly?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, there was a picture they were using in the news footage …’
Misty knew exactly what she was going to say next. ‘The woman behind the girl in the burn mask …’
Karen nodded, and there was a glow in her eyes that looked almost fevered. ‘You saw it too?’
‘Yes, I mean I saw the news report. I saw the resemblance.’
Karen lowered her voice and grabbed Misty’s arm. ‘But what if it wasn’t just a resemblance? What if it actually was her? I mean, she could have chosen to disappear, couldn’t she? Even Andrew didn’t see the body.’
There was something surreal about it. Karen was a woman of substance, able to gather all these people about her, in the beautiful gardens of her enviable villa. In the blink of eye, she’d changed entirely. Misty shifted uncomfortably.
‘Whoever was in that picture, it definitely wasn’t Alex.’
The change that had fallen over Karen disappeared as though a veil had been lifted.
‘Of course, you’re right. My imagination is running away with me. You were always the practical one.’
Misty let the remark pass, neither confirming or challenging it but choosing to take another canapé from a timely passing teenager instead.
‘So,’ continued Karen, apparently trying to steer the conversation back to something less controversial, ‘did you continue with medicine then?’
‘Yes, yes, I did.’
‘And do you still do it now?’
‘Yes. I’m a consultant. I run a clinic attached to a teaching hospital. It’s busy but rewarding. I can’t imagine doing anything else to be honest.’
‘That’s fantastic. Good for you. What sort of clinic is it? What do you specialise in?’
‘Eating disorders.’
The colour drained from Karen’s face. ‘Is that meant to be some sort of joke?’
‘No, no. I … well, after what happened to Alex … I got interested, then I got involved. I wanted to make a difference. It’s not that surprising, is it?’
Karen’s hostess smile had returned, more brittle than before. Misty sensed that it had taken her an effort to pull herself together. It seemed odd that she should be so shaken by Misty’s career choice, especially after all these years.
‘No … no, I suppose not. I guess I’ve just always tried to avoid the topic. I … I found it hard.’
‘I’m sure we both did. But people cope in different ways. And it’s not the best subject to be dwelling on when it’s your birthday. In fact, you don’t want to spend all your time stuck with me … Go on, I’ll find out where Andrew’s wandered off to. You should be chatting to all these people who have come to celebrate with you. I can tell you for free there wouldn’t be anything like this number turn up for me.’
Karen muttered some pleasantry and then took Misty’s suggestion and walked away. Misty was startled by how dazed she seemed, almost shell-shocked. But then it was no light endeavour to organise this sort of extravaganza, never mind the shock of having Misty turn up unannounced.
Karen
1988
Karen did not feel well.
When she’d opened her eyes and squinted at the clock it had said 09:13. She’d pushed herself up and surprised herself with the ease of the movement. Apart from a slight headache she felt pretty good, even sprightly. She crossed the room and poured a glass of water at the sink in the corner. Catching sight of her reflection she grimaced – her eye make-up hadn’t survived as well as she had. As she sipped the water and set about repairing the damage, a sort of pride swelled inside her. Maybe she had a knack for this drinking thing. She’d matched Octavia drink for drink and here she was – practically good as new. It
