A Girl’s Guide to Kissing Frogs

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‘How’s your mother? Is she managing without your father?’

Bobbie’s father had died two years ago.

‘Very well. She has a companion called Ruby who’s a dear and looks after her brilliantly. She’s put on two stones since my father died. The marriage wasn’t a happy one, you know. How’s darling Dimpsie?’

Despite being very different kinds of people, Bobbie had always been very fond of my mother. Most people were.

‘All right, I think. She came backstage after a performance of Swan Lake when we toured the north last year. We had supper together.’

‘And Kate? And your father?’

‘I haven’t seen either of them for ages. We only have a few days off at Christmas and it’s too far to go home. Tell me about Ireland. What made you rush back there so suddenly? Are you really going to live there permanently?’

Bobbie’s life had been interwoven with mysterious comings and goings. I had received several enigmatic notes from her over the last few months postmarked Eire.

‘Oh, yes.’ Bobbie stretched out her hand to show me a wedding ring. ‘Finn and I were married six weeks ago.’

‘Married? Bobbie, you might have told me! And who is Finn?’

‘I know it was bad of me but truthfully we didn’t tell anyone. We married in the register office in Dublin with two colleagues from Trinity College as witnesses and afterwards we went out to dinner, just the two of us, and that was it. He has three children, you see, by his first wife, and we didn’t want to make a fuss. Most people in Connemara – that’s where we live – wouldn’t even consider that we are married. Divorce isn’t recognized in Ireland, though Finn went to a lot of trouble to get his first marriage annulled. I wouldn’t have minded living in sin for the rest of my life as long as I could be with him.’

‘Tell me about Finn. It’s a beautiful name.’

Bobbie smiled. ‘Oh … he’s very clever. And very good … though he’d laugh if he heard me say that. He’s very handsome, very Irish, though that could mean any number of things. He’s writing a biography about Parnell – the Irish politician – and he’s an advisor to the government on education. Does that make him sound dull? He certainly isn’t that. I only have to see the back of his head and I get butterflies.’ She was silent for a moment, thinking. ‘He’s in everything I do, in everything I see, in every thought, in every hope, every dream. Yet I don’t really know how to describe him.’

I laughed. ‘Well, the picture so far is encouraging. Tell me about the children? How do you get on with them?’

‘I love them. And I hope they love me. It would take too long to tell you the whole story now and I want to hear about you, but Curraghcourt – that’s Finn’s house where his family have lived for centuries – is the most wonderful place and we’ve opened it to the public to help pay for repairs. And I’ve started an antiques business. That’s why I’m here, looking up dealers, people I used to know when I worked for the auction house. Finn and I never have a minute to call our own, except sometimes after dinner we sneak off alone together and then – well – it’s paradise.’

I tried, but failed, to imagine wanting to be with someone that much. This was worrying. Was I a cold heartless person, incapable of love? I had no time to answer this question because Bobbie was asking me about my leg.

‘I’ve got an appointment in six weeks.’

‘And how long till you can dance on it?’

I looked down at my glass. ‘About two months. That’s if …’ Despite my best intentions my nose began to prickle and my throat became tight. Tears began to well. ‘Bobbie, I’m terrified … if it doesn’t heal properly I may never be able to dance again.’

‘Oh, darling!’

‘And the awful thing is, life without dancing seems … utterly pointless. If I try to imagine myself not dancing – I don’t even know who I am!’

After this confession I broke down completely. Bobbie got up and put her arms round me and I sobbed hard on her shoulder. At last the storm of weeping blew itself out. I mopped my face on the handkerchief she offered. ‘Thanks. I never seem to have one. I’ll wash it and send it back.’

‘Keep it. I really am sorry to have touched such a tender place.’

‘I needed to say it. It’s something we’re all so frightened of that it’s like a taboo. But it’s been in my mind all the time, haunting me like something terrifying you think might be under the bed only you can’t bring yourself to bend down and look in case it’s staring at you with glaring red eyes …’

‘Your problem is you’ve got so much imagination. Don’t you remember, when you were little, that story about a scarecrow who came alive? Kate thought it was funny but you woke screaming for several nights after. Not that imagination isn’t generally a good thing, and you wouldn’t be such a good dancer if you didn’t have it.’

‘If I can’t dance again I’ve just got to try to face up to it. I certainly won’t be the only one. It happens all the time. Mostly feet but sometimes backs and knees – then it’s goodbye career, hello teaching, reviewing, whatever you can get.’ I was annoyed to hear my voice wobble pathetically. ‘When you think how few opportunities there are to dance the principal roles and how many good dancers there are I ought to be grateful that I’ve had the chance to do Lac and Giselle and Manon and all those brilliant parts.’

‘What you need is—’ Bobbie broke off with a little yell as Siggy poked out his head from beneath the eiderdown and bared his incisors at her.

‘It’s all right, it’s only Siegfried. He’s hungry, I expect.’ I leaned over the side of the bed and put a morsel of chicken on his saucer. He pushed his head out further, looked at Bobbie with unfriendly eyes and hopped down to the floor. Siggy was possessive and jealous, but his marked preference for me above all other beings was good for my morale.

‘A rabbit!’ Bobbie laughed and bent down to stroke him.

Too late I cried, ‘Look out, he bites!’

Already his head had flashed forward. For a slightly overweight creature he could move fast when he wanted. She drew back her hand with a cry of pain. A drop of blood burst out on her finger.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘Please don’t feel hurt. He bites everybody but me.’

‘It’s all right. I like animals – even savage ones.’ Bobbie really was an exemplary guest. She sucked the wound, then examined it. ‘It’s all right. Just a tiny puncture. He’s certainly a very good-looking rabbit.’

Most people were insulting about Siggy after he had bitten them. Though I deplored his character, I could not help feeling proud of him. He had lovely orange eyes, neat little ears and a beautiful fluffy coat of thundercloud grey.

‘I’ve had him a year now. I found some children trying to push a sack down the culvert at the end of the street. I asked them what was in it and they said it was a rabbit which bit them all the time so they’d decided to drown it. Of course I took the sack away from them. Immediately they all ran off so I was lumbered, really. He’s never once bitten me. It’s as if he knows I rescued him from a horrible fate and he’s grateful.’

‘A very intelligent rabbit.’ Bobbie looked kindly at Siggy. I felt the sort of glow parents of an infant prodigy must enjoy. ‘Marigold, do listen to me a minute.’ Bobbie offered her camembert crust to Siggy who chomped it down, making a mess of his whiskers. ‘I don’t think it’s good for you to stay here. You’re lonely, freezing and semi-starving. People who are recovering from operations need warmth and good food and fresh air.’ She looked apologetic. ‘I can smell the stairs a tiny bit in here. You mentioned someone called Sebastian. Who is he and why is it up to him whether you go into a nursing home or not?’

‘He’s the director of the Lenoir Ballet Company. And my lover … sort of.’

‘Sort of?’

‘Well, strictly in the physical sense. Not in the sense of loving each other. Though we might be engaged to be married. I’m not really sure.’

Bobbie took away our plates and refilled our glasses. Then she lay on the bed next to me and rearranged the blankets to cover both of us. ‘That’s better. I can feel the blood returning to my feet. Now, tell me all.’

I was entirely frank and did not bother to garb the relationship with spurious romance. Bobbie listened intently, putting in the occasional question which I answered truthfully.

When I had told everything there was to tell she said, ‘I see. Now I feel more strongly than ever that you ought, for a time at least, to have … a little holiday. If you could contemplate the journey to Ireland, Finn and I will be absolutely delighted to have you to stay. You never saw such wonderful countryside and you’d love Patience, his sister who lives with us and … why are you shaking your head?’

‘Thank you so much, darling Bobbie, for asking me, but I should be conscious the whole time that I was yet another person requiring attention and taking up your time. You said it yourself. It’s paradise when you can be alone with Finn. It’s enormously kind of you to offer and perhaps when you’ve become used to him and are content just to rest your eyes on him across a crowded room, I’ll come willingly.’

Bobbie laughed. ‘I’d love to have you. Truthfully.’

‘Thanks. But I’d be a martyr to guilt the whole time.’

‘Well, then, the alternative is—’

‘All right! I know whither this is tending. You want me to go home.’

‘Just for a few weeks.’ Bobbie looked at me pleadingly. ‘Dimpsie’s such an angel and she’d love to have you. Think of the scenery and the clean air. Proper food, relaxation, new horizons. You might even enjoy it.’

‘I might,’ I replied rather glumly.

Less than twenty-four hours later I was standing on the platform at King’s Cross with Siggy in a travelling basket and a one-way ticket to Northumberland.