A Postcard from Italy

Struggling to function for weeks after he moved out, Grace had slumped into a depression brought on by sleepless nights full of flashbacks of Matthew being caressed by a tight-bottomed, naked woman in the very bed that she was trying to sleep in. And unable to pay all of the rent on her own, she had lost the flat they had shared. It was then that she’d moved back into her childhood home here with Cora.

Her mother hadn’t been bedbound back then, but had still needed help with day-to-day tasks. So with Grace in a dark pit of grief for the relationship and future life she had thought she was going to have with Matthew, and her passion for the performing arts having dissipated, she had left her job dancing in the chorus line of a West End show and dwindled into becoming her mother’s carer instead. A solitary role, which had suited her just fine at the time, as it meant Grace was able to retreat even further into herself, away from the outside word and all the dangers it held … like predatory, perky yoga-teacher types! Being reclusive felt like a protection of sorts, where Grace could keep herself safe from potential heartbreak. Because on that horrible day her world really had fallen apart. She had trusted Matthew with her life, and it was as if he’d sucked the air right out of it and she had been over and over this a million times inside her head. Constantly replaying that moment when Matthew had opened his half-closed ecstasy eyes and spotted her in the bedroom doorway where she had stood. Frozen. Watching the scene as if by satellite on a time delay. The two beautiful bodies moving as one in perfect symphony and slow motion, immersed in their sensual delight of each other.

The weeks of staying indoors had turned into months until, a year later, knowing she couldn’t carry on that way any more, Grace had managed to summon up the courage to seek help from her GP. Agoraphobia, brought on by depression, was what the doctor had diagnosed, before referring her to a counsellor who set her a programme of tasks aimed at building her confidence and self-esteem back up. And it had worked, to a point. It was soon after that she had started working for Larry at the storage company; she had been there for a year now as their Girl Friday – the counsellor had a friend who knew somebody who knew his wife, Betty, and that she was looking to bring in some help; with her and Larry not getting any younger these days, and their grown-up children living and working abroad, they were finding it hard to manage the business between just the two of them.

So with Larry’s kind patience and the counsellor’s encouragement, Grace could now venture out to familiar places, if she took a familiar route. Like going to work or to the library or to the end of the road to the convenience store on the corner. Nice and simple. Safe. She knew where she was at then, even if it did mean counting the steps to the bus stop to help calm her breathing. That’s how she had met ‘this new one’, Phil. He had seen her muttering to herself, counting the steps as she reached the bus stop one morning on the way to work, and had struck up a conversation. He had been there again on her way home from work and had offered to walk with her to the front door. Things between them had sort of trundled on from there.

‘And you’ll be thirty-five soon so you need to think about that before you scare any more men away. If you don’t get a move on and find one to marry you then you’ll never be a mother.’ Cora cut in to Grace’s thoughts. ‘And I shan’t be around for ever, you know, and then you’ll be all on your own!’

Grace pulled her bottom lip in and bit down hard as she vowed to talk to her brother and sisters again. Something had to change. She worked hard too. And what she wouldn’t give for even one day off from her mother’s foul temper and cruel words … let alone a leisurely family lunch! And Phil was always complaining about Grace never having any time for him these days. Cora was ruining his life, apparently. And even though Grace wrestled with her emotions for having such guilt-ridden thoughts about her own mother, she had to admit that she was rapidly feeling the same way too.

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