Summer Soap (Episode 9): A meeting with Seán, but will Charlotte go?

Welcome to The Echo’s annual feature - Summer Soap. Now in its eighth year, Summer Soap is a daily fictional serial run over 12 parts, which started last Monday week and runs till Saturday. Called Charlotte’s Choice, this story is about a Cork woman and her tangled love life, and was written by Gabrielle Dufrene, from the MA in Creative Writing Programme at UCC. Catch up with previous episodes at echolive.ie. In the ninth episode, her mind conflicting with emotions, Charlotte arranges to meet Seán.

THREE hours later, Charlotte’s body was drained of tears. She lay, feeling completely hollowed out, in a heap on the bed. A used pile of tissues sat on the night-stand beside her engagement ring, that meaningless token which had become abhorrent to her.

She could not put Gregory’s cruelty, or the look of absolute hatred in his eyes, out of her head. Or the way he had spoken to her. She knew that she had done wrong, but she could not comprehend the unfairness of the situation. Neither could she consult anyone about her choice.

If she told Laura about Gregory’s threat, her friends would only ever see him as a villain. But the reality was, she was the cheater. She was the one in the wrong.

Charlotte could not imagine the crushing pain she would feel if he had done the same to her.

She felt backed into a corner. But beyond herself, beyond what she wanted, lingered the promise she’d made to Seán’s mother: the woman’s dying wish. She had promised that she would take care of Seán, and that meant his family, too.

Here was her answer: a clear, simple solution that would ensure long-term wellbeing for everyone involved.

The right choice was evident. The path of true love was the path of selflessness. She called Seán, who picked up breathlessly after the fourth ring.

“Hi, can I see you tomorrow?”

******

Charlotte woke to a stale and fragile quiet the next morning. Gregory had stumbled in sometime around midnight, falling all over the place, and his breath stank of whiskey. Before he’d fallen asleep, he mumbled a barely intelligible series of sentences: “I can’t believe… you know I would never…but you did this to us.”

They didn’t exchange a single word before he left for work.

She and Seán had agreed to meet at a small coffee shop down on Barrack Street, her favourite in the city. She made her way with bleak trepidation, and as she approached the cafe, she could see him through the window, seated in the corner, two mugs steaming atop the table. He was reading something on his phone.

His familiar face was soft, an expression of vague curiosity across it. She watched as his hand wrapped around the mug and tipped it back lightly into his mouth.

“Sorry,” a woman said, shouldering past her to get to the door. Charlotte stepped aside, her eyes glued to Seán’s figure. She couldn’t discern how long she stayed there, watching him wait for her. He looked up several times, to the till, and his head swivelled around the cafe, but he hadn’t seen her. Had he, she would have walked in, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Nor could she bring herself to leave.

This was the last time she would see him, she thought, with a painful certainty.

She observed the soft curve of his chin, the pleasant slope of his nose, the gentle but solid way he carved a space for himself in the world.

He had been alright without her for all these years, and he would continue to be.

Charlotte closed her eyes. Keep him safe, she prayed, a little shudder rippling through her body. With one last glance, she hiked her purse up on her shoulder, spun on her heel, and went home.