by Paula Clamp
It was now four-thirty in the afternoon. Ellie had her heavy rucksack packed beside her, on the ground resting against her legs, ready for her bus. She looked around her for other familiar faces, but she already knew that neither Paddy, nor Ronan, would be there. Ronan was back in the Airbnb, making travel plans in order to ‘find’ himself and Paddy was going to make his own arrangements to ‘disappear’. Conor and Ellie’s threat to report them both to the police was nothing compared to the threat from their 'clients' when they discovered that the cache they’d paid for in advance, was now a rusting heap of worthless metal.
Deep in her heart, Ellie hoped that Ronan's separation from Lusty and from his demons, would be the best for him. This separation, however, could not include her. She didn't have the strength to take on any passengers on her journey, especially ones that she knew she could never trust. And although Ellie had felt that Ronan’s disappointment was genuine when she had told him of her decision to go home alone, she hadn't been persuaded to change her mind. Ellie was no longer simply thankful for Ronan’s attentions. She knew that she deserved more.
With such an important ceremony in the village, all around her Ellie could hear concerned mutterings as to where the young local hero was. Ronan Campbell may have been the people's champion, however, it was Conor Sullivan, who broke his back for fifty pounds to make a young man’s dreams come true, who was the true hero. And he was still here; up a tree, with a chainsaw.
Ellie lifted her backpack and rested it on her shoulder. She was about to say her goodbyes to Ena and Soupy, but when she saw Soupy kiss his tearful wife gently on the cheek, she felt that she had intruded enough in their lives.
Next, Ellie looked for Rosie. She was also quietly sobbing and her companion, Cormac, had a reassuring hand around her shoulders. Rosie didn't appear to be in her usual hurry to brush off a gallant arm. All this time, Ellie had thought Rosie was Roisin, so that now Rosie seemed like a stranger all over again. What Ellie had thought she had known had been false and the truth was that this graceful lady had still somehow penetrated Ellie's heart. The reality was that Rosie liked to paint, was a woeful gardener and housekeeper and had once been on a long list of Bernard Sullivan’s victims. She also had a child that she was forced to give up to Old Man Sullivan, who had offered to give his grandson everything that she couldn’t. Had Rosie succeeded in giving her child what she thought would be a better start in life? Ellie hoped so.
Ellie thought for a moment. What was it that Rosie had said in her kitchen; that she had ‘watched from afar’? Was this why Rosie had returned to Lusty after Bernard had died, to keep an eye on her child; her son who didn’t even now he was hers? And possibly even now, as she looked up to the tree, Rosie was still watching out for him.
Conor slipped on a mossy bough, just as he was about to slice through the twisting branch that had been his father's ultimate undoing. Ellie saw Rosie hold her hand to her mouth, before Conor's long arms came into their own and he managed to regain his balance and continue safely with the job in-hand. Rosie gasped with relief.
Ellie smiled to herself; there were still secrets in Lusty to be resolved and she was sure they wouldn't be the last.
As she now turned away from what was left of the tree and also the people she had known for only a day and a half, Ellie heard Father Daly call Frankie up to the microphone. She continued on her journey, climbing the five hills back to Lusty village and then onto the forest, all to the distant sound of Frankie’s earthy version of Elvis' Love Me Tender.
Through the forest, past Doherty's Bar and Lounge, the chapel and then the row of three cottages, Ellie imagined that she could still hear Frankie. Only when she turned the lane, away from the village and past the sign saying, ‘Lusty – Twinned with Nowhere’ did Ellie feel fully out of range of the old tree. Either side of her were the familiar luminous blossoms of Spanish Gold. Its buttery scent was even more acute after its drenching in the storm. Clumps of cat's ear and dandelion had erupted overnight and appeared like runway lights, guiding Ellie on her homeward journey.
There was no doubt that Ellie was a different person to the one who arrived the day before on the bus. The discovery of what her mother had done had horrified Ellie and she still didn’t really understand how she was going to cope going forward. Ellie’s mother had tried to leave the life she had in Lusty behind and had tried to build a new one, but the past simply refused to be ignored. Knowing all of this, Ellie realised that she felt different because she felt stronger.
Ellie arrived at the bus stop at five-minutes-to-five. Casually, she peered down into the puddle that had so unceremoniously splashed her when the bus departed the day before. It had swelled to way beyond the size it had been. Ellie could see her reflection and for once she didn’t flinch at what she saw. Her hair was wild and unruly and her pale-grey eyes appeared radiant and full. For the first time, Ellie felt ready to accept that she was strong enough to help both herself and her father to get through their shared grief.
A gentle breeze stirred up a ripple in the puddle. When this had worn itself out, beside her own reflection, Ellie could now also see that of Conor.
"You've forgotten something." In his dirty hands, he held out a three-inch sapling, with its root ball still intact and, carefully, protected in a clear plastic bag, "I found this not far from the base of the tree. I didn't want to leave it, in case it got trampled on." Conor played with one of the sampling’s fragile leaves, "I asked a few people, like Father Daly, Rosie and the Campbells, and they all felt that you should have it."
"They did?" Ellie was completely overcome with gratitude and humility.
"Of course - they're your friends.”
Ellie stared at the sapling. How incredible that nobody in Lusty held a grudge against her for what her mother had done. She loved them all.
Conor’s hands dwarfed the sapling, but it could not have asked for a gentler guardian. The responsibility was transferred, as Conor delicately passed the plant from his hands to Ellie's. As he did so, she felt the sensual softness as his skin brushed against hers.
"Thank you for everything, Conor. I can’t take this from you.”
“Everyone wants you to have it.”
”And what about you, Conor, how do you feel about it?"
Conor's wide eyes devoured Ellie's, "Isn’t it obvious. If you stay, Ellie, I’ll show you exactly how I feel.”
Ellie looked down at the sapling and, for some reason, began to think of her dream of her birth again, with her mother and her father looking astonished at her. How could Ellie have forgotten that she did have a memory of them both together, and of them both happy - even if it was one that she had created for herself when she was sleeping.
The puddle splashed outwards and upwards, drenching both Ellie and Conor, as the bus's front wheel stopped beside them. Declan Mulligan, the driver, opened the door of the bus and took a moment to recognise the girl he'd dropped off, only a day earlier. She looked different. With a big smile, he opened the glass door.
A minute later, he released the handbrake and began to pull the heavy bus away from the bus stop. All the driver could think about was the hot Sunday dinner his wife had waiting for him at home. He looked through his rear view mirror and saw the rows and rows of empty seats and beyond that, through the rear window, to the bus stop - where he saw the ‘Big English Girl’ wrapped in that ‘daft eejit’, Conor Sullivan's arms.
'At least one person is getting picked up in Lusty today.' The bus driver muttered to himself, before turning the sharp bend and driving away.
Other young adult books by Paula Clamp:
Where Do Dead Birds Go?
The Shee
She's Going Places
Three Stars One Wish