The Moon Over Kilmore Quay

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘Then you found out you were pregnant?’

  ‘I didn’t realize it for about two months. I thought I was feeling so shit because of the break-up.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell Dad when you realized?’

  ‘I was angry. And more than that, I was ashamed. How the hell had we become a family where two sisters were pregnant by the same guy? It was like a bad episode of Jerry Springer. I told Michelle and she persuaded me to tell Ryan, but the very day I was supposed to call him, we received a wedding invitation from Maeve. She wrote a letter begging me to come over, to be her bridesmaid. She said that, for the baby’s sake, she and Ryan were going to give it a shot together. It was the last nail in the coffin of our relationship. She not only stole my love, but now she was taking my wedding day, getting married in the New York Public Library. The pain turned to paranoia after Mark was born. I worried that if Ryan and Maeve found out about him, they would try to take him from me, add him into their perfect family life in Innisfree.’

  ‘This is so messed up.’ I stood up and paced the small room. ‘I need that drink.’

  ‘Me too. But I can’t go out there yet. I need a minute.’

  ‘And Mark really has no idea?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘I can understand why you kept it to yourself at first. But for nearly thirty years? I’m baffled.’

  ‘When you tell enough lies to yourself, you start to believe them. I told anyone that asked that I didn’t know who Mark’s dad was. This scandalized everyone into shutting up and not asking any further questions. Then Maeve died. The grief was horrific. Mam died a few months later. She went to the grave never knowing the truth.’

  ‘Shit. That must have been an awful time.’

  ‘I can’t explain the devastation. No words would ever do that justice. But when you have a child to take care of, you have to just keep on going. And that was a blessing because, without Mark, I think I would have been unable to go on.’

  ‘And you’ve never considered telling Dad since then?’

  ‘Truthfully, when Mark was young, I was so busy, I didn’t have the time to think about Ryan or you. I was a single mam, juggling this pub and a baby. For years I didn’t catch my breath. It was only when Mark made his First Holy Communion that I stopped to realize what I was missing out on. As your aunt, I should have been there for all of your big and small moments too. I left Mark with Michelle and I went to New York. I waited outside your school gates until you came out. And I followed you home. You played hopscotch on the sidewalk with another little girl for a bit. I think it was Stephanie actually, looking at her now.’

  ‘I can’t believe you were so close to me and I had no idea.’

  ‘Then I saw Ryan with his arm around a woman. They took you to the park and pushed you on the swings. You looked like a happy family unit and I decided it was selfish to break that up. Too many people had lost so much, I didn’t want to add to the mess.’

  ‘I wish you’d spoken to me. We could have had a lifetime together. I could have known Mark.’

  ‘It was hard to walk away. I could see, even from a distance, what a great job Ryan had done with you. Your mam would be so proud of you, I know she would.’

  ‘I’m not sure how I feel about her right now. She’s been on a pedestal for me, my whole life. And now you’ve …’

  ‘Knocked her right down,’ Lucy finished. She didn’t look happy about that. ‘I want you to know that your mam was my best friend and I loved her more than anyone else in the world. That’s why her betrayal hurt so much. But she was a good person, Bea, I swear to you. She was decent and funny and kind. She was too impulsive though and sometimes had this self-destruct button.’

  ‘Do you think, if she’d lived, you would ever have made up?’

  ‘I’d like to think we would. But I have to be honest, maybe we wouldn’t have. I felt like I had too much to lose to risk making contact with your dad. There again, she would have come home at some point and if she’d seen Mark, like you, she would have known.’

  ‘You have to tell them. They have a right to know. I know Dad was a dick to you – and that’s going to take me a while to forgive – but Mark is his son. Ryan has always been a good father to me. Mark deserves to have a relationship with him. Take it from someone who has missed their mother their whole life: it never goes away, Lucy. It’s always there.’

  Lucy wiped tears from my face. ‘I’m so sorry, Bea. Not only for everything you’ve said. But also because me staying away meant that I wasn’t there for you. I should have been.’

  ‘You can be here for me now …’ And the thing was, I knew that I needed her.

  ‘I’d like that. I’ll tell Mark. But it has to be when we are alone. I can’t have him hearing this with an audience. It’s too painful. I know it’s time to tell Ryan too. I promise I’ll do it. Just give me a few days.’

  ‘We’re heading to Cork to work on that case I’m on. It should only take a day or two. We could call back before we go home.’

  Home. I realized that I desperately wanted to go back to New York, my home, my Innisfree. So this was what homesickness felt like. ‘Where’s Mom’s grave? I couldn’t find it earlier.’

  ‘We didn’t bury your mom’s ashes, we scattered them in a spot she loved. I can take you there when you come back.’

  I nodded and all of a sudden felt bone-tired. I’d had enough. My headache was back and I wanted to grab the girls and go back to the hotel. Away from the emotional hits that I’d taken. And I wished that my big gentle giant Dan was here, to scoop me up in his arms and carry me back to the hotel. I missed him with every part of my being and ached for the pain I had caused him. I may not have slept with his brother, but just like my parents did to Lucy, I broke his heart. Lucy said she thought Dad was going to propose, just as I thought Dan was going to for me …

  38

  BEA

  June 2019

  Central Park, Manhattan

  ‘This had better not be a cheesy horse-drawn carriage ride-through-the-park surprise,’ I said to Dan as he dragged me into the park at West 72nd Street. It’s not that I didn’t love Central Park – I mean, what’s not to love – but I had my heart set on the movies tonight. And Dan’s suggestion of a walk in the park threw me.

  ‘Trust me, I’ve got a surprise for us,’ Dan said.

  ‘In my experience, whenever someone says those two words, “trust me”, it’s time to run. Add the word “surprise” and I’m out of here.’

  ‘Oh you of little faith. Not much further, we’re almost at Literary Walk,’ Dan said. I noticed he gripped my hand a little tighter in case I did decide to bolt.

  Did he just say Literary Walk? Dan wasn’t a big reader. I suppose there could be a play on. Shakespeare in the Park. Then a thought struck me.

  Was Dan going to propose? We’d been together six months and the love word had been bandied about many times. And I meant it sincerely when I said it. I had no reason to doubt his sincerity either. I loved this man with my whole heart. But that didn’t mean that I was ready for a marriage proposal. Sweat began to trickle down the small of my back as the thought now acknowledged took root.

  ‘What’s going on, Dan?’ I felt a shiver of anxiety nip. Whatever he was up to, wasn’t good. We passed the skaters and several joggers passed us. A group of tourists were watching a friend get their portrait sketched and a man with a white-painted face mimed his way out of a locked room, before passing around his beret for change.

  ‘Slow down! I don’t have your bloody long legs!’ I moaned at Dan. I had to take three strides to keep up with one of his.

  ‘Hear that?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes!’ It was the sound of a violin playing. Had he organized a musician for the proposal? I glanced down at my jeans and T-shirt combo and wished I’d worn my green tea-dress instead. I’d contemplated it, knowing we had a date after work, but I was too lazy to sort out fake tan for my white legs. Did it matter what I wore, though? Probably not.

 
; ‘Boom, boom, boom, boom … La da, la da da, boom, boom, boom, boom …’ Dan made nonsensical words up as he sang along to the music. I recognized the violin’s melody, I’d heard it before but in a million years would never be able to name it. ‘Where is that music coming from?’

  ‘You’ll see. One sec,’ Dan said, then he tapped his nose in a very annoying way. It made me want to give him a dig. I did not like being kept in the dark. But on the off-chance he was going to propose, I thought I’d better not hit him before. In case it changed his mind.

  And that’s when I realized that I wasn’t against the idea. In fact, if I were honest with myself, I looked forward to it.

  When I spotted the large crowd ahead of me, for a second I wondered if my family and friends were hidden within, ready to witness the big romantic moment. But then the music made sense as I realized what the group were watching.

  ‘Tango!’ I cried.

  ‘I know, isn’t it mad?’

  Dancing counter-clockwise around Shakespeare’s statue were about forty couples. There were two speakers sitting on a bench, blasting out the music. The low sun cast shadows on the asphalt pavers as it said its goodbye to the day.

  Dan said. ‘I stumbled across them last week and ended up watching the dancers for nearly an hour. What do you think?’

  ‘It’s … it’s wonderful!’ I exclaimed.

  ‘Oh thank goodness!’ Dan said. ‘I hoped you’d like it. Look at those two over there!’ He pointed to a couple who were in their seventies, him short and round, her tall and graceful, both with Snow White hair. She had a black lace dress, which was slit to the top of her thigh worn with black strappy sandals. He had a red shirt on, with black braces attached to black slacks, the crease crisp and firm down the middle. Their bodies were sculpted to each other, yin and yang dancers. I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they swayed to the music.

  There were others, like us, who were there to watch the dancers. A group of girls giggling, with one in the middle wearing a white veil and a sash that told us all she was the bride-to-be. I felt myself flush. How silly was I, thinking Dan was about to propose?

  ‘It would make you want to join in, wouldn’t it?’ Dan said.

  I shook my head. ‘I’ve not a step in my body! I’d love to dance like that, but I’d ruin it for everyone if I tried to milonga.’ I watched a woman, about my age, hook her legs around her partner’s in fast succession. Another woman stroked the floor with her pointed toes.

  ‘I thought you’d say that. There’s a free lesson for beginners in a few minutes and we’re going to give it a go. Come on.’ Dan dragged me again, this time to the Ann Reinking London plane tree. Dan nodded at a man, who turned out to be Leo, our instructor.

  ‘For tango, you need patience and discipline,’ Leo said.

  I was in trouble. I was not known for either.

  Leo took his partner into his arms, then said, ‘Let’s learn the basic tango step. Take your partner, now walk, walk, walk.’

  We watched them move forward, three times, and we gave it a go. I stood on Dan’s feet three times, but to his credit he didn’t complain once.

  Over and over we tried this, until we had the walking part pretty down pat.

  ‘Now we do the sidestep and close,’ Leo said. ‘Drag those feet in on the close, caress the pavement as if it were your lover.’

  ‘Oh my,’ I said to Dan, who tried not to giggle.

  ‘Now we put it together. Walk, walk, walk, side, close, but we say, Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick, Slow.’

  ‘So two slow walks, one quick walk, a quick sidestep and a slow close?’ Dan asked.

  ‘That’s it!’ Leo said. ‘Well done. For a man who is so … big, you are very light on your feet!’

  ‘Teacher’s pet,’ I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

  ‘Lift your ribcage,’ Leo said to us both, then he manoeuvred our bodies into the correct position. ‘You must learn how to move through the core of your body. Bend your knees, lift your ribcage, hold your head dramatically to the left, that’s it!’

  And then, to our surprise, as we moved in hold, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, something clicked. We stopped muttering the words to each other and began to dance without thought. I cried, ‘I bloody love this!’

  ‘I bloody love you!’

  ‘And I bloody love you too,’ I replied.

  Leo appeared and said, ‘Ah the young lovers. The tango is often referred to as a three-minute love affair. I think for you two lovers, it is more than that. A forever love affair, yes? Now place your cheeks together. And sway to the music. Yes! Just like that!’

  We were the second-last couple to leave in the end, dancing our way from dusk into twilight, until we were under a blanket of stars, twinkling in the sky. We vowed to each other and Leo that we would come back. Every week. And while we didn’t end up going every week – life was too messy and complicated for us to keep that commitment – we went often enough that it became ours.

  Our couple thing.

  Until we were not a couple any more.

  You can find the one.

  You can fall in love.

  And then you can lose him, all in the space of one year.

  39

  BEA

  February 2020

  The Clongibbon House, Mitchelstown, Cork

  After we left Nellie’s pub and said our goodbyes to Lucy and Mark, we called into the restaurant in our hotel for food. Watching Katrina and Stephanie’s faces as I filled them in about Dad and Lucy was comical. They literally did a jaw-drop. But once we’d finished our food, I think jet lag, or perhaps the day’s revelations, caught up with me. I had an early night, leaving the two ladies in the bar drinking gin in large fishbowl glasses. I liked seeing them together – laughing, happy.

  As we drove towards Cork, I switched back to work mode, trying to forget illicit affairs and secret brothers of my past and my now. Stephanie had another jaw-drop moment as we discussed the Ted Spadoni case. ‘I thought I was bad with Jimmy. But leaving a wife and child behind? That’s cold.’

  ‘I can’t begin to imagine how confusing it is for them. One minute he’s there, next he’s gone,’ I agreed. And I realized that confused was a word that could describe how I felt right now too. I just didn’t get why Dad had hidden this part of his and Mom’s story from me. I felt betrayed on Lucy’s behalf, on Mark’s and mine too. If Dad had been honest with me, I’d have reached out to Lucy earlier and maybe then I’d have got to know my brother. And aunt. I liked her. She was the kind of person I could happily spend time with, and that had been taken from me.

  I pushed the thoughts away again. I had a job to do, and for Olive and little Teddy’s sake, I intended to give that 100 per cent. I pulled the file on this case from my handbag, then flicked it open. ‘It’s Thursday, so our scarlet pimpernel Ted should be in work. I think to be fair to his girlfriend and child, it’s fairer if we approach him on his own. Also, we might get more out of him that way.’

  ‘She might not know about his wife and son. God help her,’ Stephanie said.

  ‘She might not. There’s a lot of that going around, isn’t there? Secrets and lies in families. But I promise, Stephanie, we’ll be respectful of all parties, no matter what.’

  Google Maps didn’t let us down and directed us into Mitchelstown in County Cork without a single wrong turn. Katrina drove slowly down the Main Street, parking up when we found a free spot.

  ‘The town’s famous for its cheese, according to their tourist information,’ Stephanie told us, reading from her phone. ‘And it has a castle. I like castles. I think I’d quite like to live in a castle one day.’

  ‘It would suit you.’ I scanned the street, trying to get my bearings. ‘I think Ted’s office must be up there on the right.’

  Stephanie decided to explore the town while we went to confront Ted. I had no idea what to expect from him. He was an enigma to me. What kind of man leaves a family behind? Would he show any remorse? I had to assume that it was unl
ikely. We climbed the stairs to the accountancy firm, which was based over a dental practice. The receptionist told us we were in luck, when we explained that we needed an accountant but had no appointment. When Katrina told her that we particularly wanted Ted Spadoni as he was American, like ourselves, she was so convincing, I half believed her. Within minutes we were seated in a small meeting room, with a round walnut table in its centre. Ted walked in, smiling like a car salesman, his arms open wide as he welcomed us. I disliked him on the spot.

  ‘Fellow Americans, I hear!’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ I said, shaking his hand. ‘I’m Bea O’Connor and this is my associate, Katrina Petrovic.’

  ‘Would you like tea or coffee?’ he asked. The genial host. I would enjoy wiping the smile off his face.

  ‘No thank you.’ I slid my business card across the table towards him. ‘We own a missing persons bureau, called the Family Finders Agency.’

  He paled, his smile changed into a frown as he shifted in his seat and tugged at his tie. I couldn’t help but feel satisfaction, watching him get uncomfortable. Well, he needed to buckle up, because I planned on making his day a lot worse.

  ‘What are you doing here in Mitchelstown?’ he asked. His eyes darted from Katrina to me. Like a rabbit in headlights.

  ‘We represent your wife, Olive, and your soon to be fifteen-year-old son, Teddy.’

  Like a bouncy castle deflating, he slumped forward onto the table in front of him. We gave him a moment to digest what was happening. He looked at the door – I assumed to double-check it was closed and to hide his guilty secret from his receptionist. Or maybe he was thinking about bolting.

  ‘Olive paid us to find you, Ted. For years they’ve worried that you were in trouble somewhere. Calling hospitals every week. Watching the door, hoping that you would reappear. Praying for a miracle that was never going to come true. Because you were not hurt or suffering from amnesia. You were living the life here in Ireland. Not giving a shit about your family, who haven’t slept a full night in over three years.’