No Way to Say Goodbye - Anna McPartlin [41]
Sam looked around at the old trees, all witness to his grandmother’s youth. The grass, the sky, the water that lapped against the rocks renewed themselves but the trees held time and one a message from the grave. Now her grandson, a New Yorker through and through, was tramping through her old sanctuary, looking for the one tree in a million that bore her carving. She had only mentioned it once. “I left my mark,” she had said, smiling. At the time Sam hadn’t understood what she meant but now, an adult in Kenmare and with time on his hands, he was determined to find the tree. Unfortunately this entailed a lot more work than he had anticipated – for a small wood, there were a hell of a lot of trees – but he was as determined to find her there as she had been to leave.
While he was surveying trees he had time to contemplate his short time in Kenmare. Since the incident with the swollen gate, he had tried to keep out of his rude neighbour’s way but Fate had acted against him. It seemed that every time he’d opened his front door she was in her garden, coming in or going out, on the pier with her dog or sitting into her car. When he ventured into his back garden to hang clothes, she’d come outside with the same intention, just a wall away. They’d attempt to ignore one another, which was uncomfortable due to their proximity. He didn’t enjoy awkwardness and with each encounter he’d curse coincidence, yet he would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t miss her on the rare day he didn’t catch a glimpse. Mary wasn’t over-toned or plastic. Her skin glowed, her body was soft and it occurred to him that she could have been the embodiment of an earth-mother if she hadn’t been such a bitch.
When he thought of her past he felt sorry for her, but whenever he saw her she didn’t seem like a victim and it was difficult to empathize with someone who so obviously didn’t like him. Sam wasn’t used to this. Of course, a hell of a lot of people in the business disliked, even hated, him but they had good reason. This woman had disliked him on sight but that was OK: he didn’t need some stranger’s approval. He had his recovery to focus on, so if she ignored him, he’d ignore her. If she sighed at the sight of him, he sighed louder. If she made a face, he made a worse one. Their annoyance had become a game and it was getting old.
Besides, now he had his project to keep his mind active. He tied a small red band around a branch of the last tree he had surveyed. This would signal where his search would next begin. It was getting late and he had promised Ivan he’d help him move furniture.
Adam’s wife and children had driven away from Kenmare, leaving him to finish off packing their belongings before he followed them on the long road away from his home. Ivan had attempted to keep things light and Adam endeavoured to maintain a brave face. Sam had kept his head down, conscious that he was assisting a new friend in saying goodbye to an old one. It was on their last trip, while they were carrying a heavy ornate mahogany desk, that he and Ivan had emerged into the evening light to be confronted with Adam and Penny wrapped round one another, kissing deeply and tears flowing. Sam was acutely embarrassed – and a little confused, having waved off the man’s wife less than an hour before. He and Ivan put the desk on the ground and went back inside, unseen by the parting lovers. Ivan made tea and Sam sat looking around Adam’s empty home. Although he felt sorry for him and his predicament,