A Place Called Here

by Cecelia Ahern

  Alan relaxed. “I dunno.” He took out the skins and began to sprinkle the tobacco inside. “It’s a Saturday, I suppose.”

  “Should we get a taxi down by Arthur’s Quay tonight?” Jack asked casually. “I left the car at home.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s where you told Donal to go for a cab, isn’t it?”

  Alan snorted and swallowed, cleaning his nostrils, making a sound but not answering the question. He slowly rolled the cigarette between his hands; Jack could see he was thinking. Trying to work it all out in his head.

  “It’s probably not such a good idea to recommend it to anyone now,” Jack said a little too angrily.

  Alan stopped playing with his cigarette and looked at Jack. “What’s going on, Jack?”

  “There are a few things running through my mind.” He scratched his forehead with his thumb and noticed his fingers tremble with anger. Alan looked up and saw them too. His eyes narrowed. “I lost contact with the woman who was helping me look for Donal,” Jack explained, hearing his voice shaking but having no control over it. “And that’s driven me half insane. But mostly what’s bothering me”—he spoke through gritted teeth—“is the fact you told the guards and my family and everyone that would listen that you hadn’t noticed Donal leave. Then last week you told me that you had noticed him leave. In fact, you’d even spoken to him. In fact, you’d even told him which way to go for a taxi.”

  Alan’s eyes got wider and wider as Jack spoke. His hands began to fidget more, he moved uncomfortably in his seat and a bead of sweat formed above his top lip.

  “It doesn’t make sense, Alan. And it might not even be a big deal, but can you tell me why you lied for an entire year about the fact you told my brother, your best friend, to walk to an area, for a taxi, that would cause him to disappear?” The anger began to rise, and the volume of his voice with it.

  Alan started to tremble. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “With what?”

  “With Donal going missing. I had nothing to do with it.” He went to stand up but Jack reached out and pushed him down by the shoulder. The bag of tobacco spilled to the carpet. Jack kept his hand there firmly, holding him down.

  “Well then, who did?” he said angrily.

  “I don’t know.”

  Jack dug his fingers into Alan’s shoulder blade. He was just skin and bone.

  “Jesus Christ, do we have to do this here?” Alan said in pain, trying to squirm out of Jack’s grasp but failing.

  Jack leaned in and said, “Do what here? Is there someplace else you’d like to go? The garda station maybe?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Alan insisted. “I swear.”

  “Then why did you lie?”

  “I didn’t lie,” he said with big wide eyes, looking like he’d never told the truth in his life. “I don’t exactly have a clean sheet as it is. I thought the guards would think I’d something to do with it.”

  Their faces were only inches apart now. “Tell me the truth.”

  “I have.”

  “He was your best friend, Alan; he was always there for you.”

  “I know, I know,” he interrupted, holding his trembling nicotine-stained fingers to his head. Tears began to form in his eyes and he stared down at the table, his whole body shuddering.

  “You can either tell me and make me understand, or I go to the guards,” Jack threatened.

  It felt like hours before Alan built up the nerve to speak again, “Donal got involved in something,” he said, so quietly Jack had to move his head even closer. Their heads were practically touching now.

  “You’re a liar.”

  “I’m not a liar,” Alan’s head shot up, and Jack could see for once he was telling the truth. “I was working for these lads—”

  “What lads?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Jack reached across and grabbed his collar. “Who are they?”

  “I’m helping you as much as I can, Jack,” Alan croaked, color rising quickly in his face.

  Jack loosened his grip slightly, enough for Alan to be able to breathe, and listened.

  “They brought Donal in to program some stuff onto their computer. I suggested him as he’d got his degree and all, but he saw and heard a few things he shouldn’t have and they got angry. I told them he wouldn’t say a word but Donal was threatening to talk.”

  “About what?” Anger was firing through Jack. He couldn’t believe after one year of searching, the answer was right here at home, the truth resting with his brother’s best friend.

  “I can’t tell you that,” Alan said through gritted teeth, spittle spilling from the sides of his mouth. “I couldn’t talk Donal out of snitching. He was trying to get me on the straight and narrow, but he didn’t understand how serious they were. He wouldn’t listen.” His entire body trembled and Jack’s eyes filled as he waited. Alan’s voice broke and the shame was evident as he whispered, “They were only supposed to knock him around a bit, warn him off, give him a scare.”

  It was as though red powder fell before Jack’s eyes. The anger pumped violently within him. “And you walked him straight into it.” His voice was hoarse. Jack jumped out of his chair, pushed his hand up against Alan’s throat and forced him off his chair. He fell back against the wall, and the mirror behind Alan’s head smashed with the force. The pub was silenced and people leaped out of the way of the two men. Jack threw Alan’s head hard against the wall again. “Where is he?” he hissed, his face up against Alan’s.

  Alan made choking sounds and Jack squeezed his grip tighter. Alan tried to speak and Jack remembered himself and loosened his grip. “Where is his body?”

  When he got his answer, he let go of Alan’s throat and backed away, dropping him from his grip as if he were a dirty rag. He allowed Garda Graham Turner, who had been sitting nearby, to take over, and Jack left the pub to find his brother. This time he could say good-bye properly. This time the brothers would both finally be at rest.

  49

  Hello, Sandy.” Grace Burns smiled at me from behind her desk. Her office was a cubbyhole at the back of a planning office. Inside were models of buildings and layouts of future plans for the surrounding lands.

  I took a seat before her desk. “Thank you for saving me from the angry mob last night,” I joked.

  “No problem.” But her smile quickly faded. “Tell me what’s really happening, Sandy. Is your watch missing?”

  After talking to Joseph, Helena, and Bobby late into the night about what was the best thing do, they all agreed that I should lie. I didn’t agree.

  “Yes, it’s missing,” I responded. Her eyes widened and she sat up straight in her chair. “But the last thing I want to do is make a big deal of it,” I warned. “I cannot explain how it disappeared, just as I can’t explain how I arrived here. No amount of questions from your colleagues or scientists or people who consider themselves to be experts can help this situation. I don’t want that G.I. Joe following me around anymore either. I don’t know anything. You must give me your word that you won’t spread this news because I will not be cooperative.”

  “I understand,” she said. “In the time that I’ve been here there have been a few people I know of who have reported the same thing, but we have been unable to learn anything, just as all of our studies have had little success in discovering how we arrived here. The people I knew of either moved out of town because word got out and life became too difficult under the gaze of everybody in the village, or else it was a false alarm and they found whatever it was they thought they’d lost. The two people that we did actually have the opportunity to work with closely just couldn’t provide us with anything solid to work on. They knew nothing about why and how it was happening and most of us have realized that it’s an impossible thing to understand.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “One passed away, the other is living in another village. You’re definitely sure your watch is gone?”

/>   “It’s gone,” I assured her.

  “Is this the only thing that has disappeared?”

  This is where I chose to lie. I nodded. “And believe me, there’s no better person at searching than me.” I looked around her room while she studied me.

  “What is it that you do back home, Sandy?” She rested her chin on her hand and gazed intently at me, trying to solve the puzzle in her own mind.

  “I run a missing-persons agency.”

  She laughed first, but her smile faded when she realized she was laughing alone. “You search for missing people?”

  “And help people reunite, find long-lost relatives, adopted parents, adopted children, that kind of thing,” I rattled off.

  Her eyes widened with each example. “So your case is certainly very different from the others I spoke about.”

  “Or it’s coincidental.”

  She mulled that over but didn’t comment. “So that’s how you know so much about the people here.”

  “Only some people. Only the people in the play. By the way, the dress rehearsal is on tonight. Helena wanted me to invite you.” I remembered how Helena had hammered it into my head before I left the house that morning. “It’s The Wizard of Oz but it’s not a musical, Helena is stressing to everybody. It’s just her and Dennis O’Shea’s interpretation.” I laughed. “Orla Keane is playing the role of Dorothy. I’m actually quite looking forward to it.” I realized this, as I said it, for the first time. “The idea for the play was initially just my way of having a chance to talk to the potential cast without raising suspicions. We thought it would be far cleverer than knocking on doors and relaying stories of home, but perhaps we should have put a bit more thought into it. I didn’t realize how quickly people talk here.”

  “Word gets around fast,” Grace replied, still in a daze. She leaned in further and said, “Were you looking for someone in particular when you arrived here?”

  “Donal Ruttle,” I said, still hoping I’d find him.

  “No.” She shook her head. “The name isn’t familiar.”

  “He’s now twenty-five years old, from Limerick, and would have arrived here last year.”

  “He’s definitely not in this village, anyway.”

  “I don’t think he’s here at all, I’m afraid,” I thought aloud, feeling instant sympathy for Jack Ruttle.

  “I’m from Killybeggs in Donegal, I don’t know if you know it…” Grace leaned forward again.

  “Of course I do.” I smiled.

  Her face softened. “I’m married here but my maiden name is O’Donohue. My parents were Tony and Margaret O’Donohue. They have passed away now. I saw my dad’s name in the obituaries in a newspaper I found six years ago. I’ve kept it.” She glanced over at her wall cabinet. “Carol Dempsey,” she started up again. “You know Carol. She’s in the play too, I believe. Well, she’s a Donegal woman too, as you well know, and she informed me of my mother’s death when she arrived a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yes, well…” she said gently. “I’m an only child,” she explained, “but I have an uncle Donie who moved to Dublin a few years before I arrived here.”

  I nodded along with her, waiting for the story to begin, but she fell silent and watched me. I shifted uneasily in my chair, realizing she was giving me information about her life to refresh my memory.

  “I’m sorry, Grace,” I said softly. “That might have been before I set up the agency. How long have you been here?”

  “Fourteen years.” I must have looked at her with such pity because she quickly explained, “I love it here, don’t get me wrong. I have a wonderful husband and three gorgeous children and I wouldn’t go back in a heartbeat, but I was just wondering…I’m sorry.” She sat upright again and composed herself.

  “It’s OK. I’d want to know too,” I said gently, “but I’m not familiar with the people you’ve mentioned. I’m sorry.”

  There was a silence and I thought I’d upset her, but when she spoke again she seemed fine.

  “What made you want to find missing people? It’s such an unusual career.”

  I laughed. “Now, there’s a question.” I thought back to when it all began. “Two words,” I said. “Jenny-May Butler. She lived across the road from me when I was a child in Leitrim, but she went missing when she was ten.”

  “Yes.” Grace smiled. “Jenny-May is as good a reason as any. What a character.”

  It took me a moment to catch what she’d said. My heart leaped into my throat with the surprise. “What? What did you say?”

  50

  Come on, Bobby!” I yelled, poking my head in the door of Lost and Found.

  “What?” he shouted from upstairs.

  “Bring the camera, get your keys, lock up, and let’s go. We’ve got to go!” I allowed the door to swing shut and paced up and down the veranda, Grace’s words still ringing in my ears. She knew Jenny-May. She had given me directions. I had to go to her now. My excitement had gone way past boiling point and was overflowing, spilling from me as I waited impatiently outside for Bobby. I needed him to show me the way to Jenny-May’s home in the forest, yet I didn’t have the patience to explain what it was I wanted.

  Bobby arrived at the door, looking bewildered. “What the hell are you doing—” He stopped as soon as he saw the look on my face. “What happened?”

  “Get your things, Bobby, quick.” I pushed by him into the shop. “I’ll explain on the way. Bring the camera.” I hopped around him as he clumsily tried to gather his things, trying to keep up with the speed with which I was barking my orders. By the time he had finished locking up I was power-walking down the dusty street, aware that even more eyes were on me now, after the community gathering last night.

  “Wait, Sandy!” I heard him panting behind me. “What the hell happened to you? It’s like you’ve a rocket shoved up your arse!”

  “Maybe I have.” I smiled, racing on.

  “Where are we going?” He jogged alongside me.

  “Here.” I thrust the page of directions at him and kept walking.

  “Hold on. Slow down,” he said, trying to read it and run alongside me at the same time. One of my strides equaled two of his but I kept walking nonetheless. “Stop!” he shouted loudly in the market area, and others turned to stare. I finally stopped. “If you want me to read this properly you have to tell me what the hell is happening.”

  I spoke faster than I had ever spoken before in my life.

  “OK, I think I got all that,” Bobby said, still slightly confused, “but I’ve never been in this direction before.” He studied the map again. “We’ll have to ask Helena or Joseph.”

  “No! We’ve no time! We have to go now,” I whined like an impatient child. “Bobby, I’ve been waiting for this moment for the past twenty-four years of my life. Please do not delay me now when I’m so close.”

  “Yes, Dorothy, but it will take a bit more than following the yellow brick road,” he said sarcastically.

  Despite my frustration, I laughed.

  “I understand your haste but if I try to bring you to this place it will be another twenty-four years before we get there. I don’t know this part of the woods, I have never heard of this Jenny-May person, and I don’t have any friends who live that deep. If we get lost, we’re in big trouble. Let’s just go to Helena for help first.”

  Although he was almost half my age, the boy made sense, and so I grudgingly stomped my way to Helena and Joseph’s house.

  Helena and Joseph were sitting on the bench in the front of their house, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere of Sunday lunchtime. Bobby, sensing my urgency, rushed straight to Helena and Joseph while Wanda jumped up from the ground where she was playing and ran to me.

  “Hi, Sandy,” she said, grabbing my hand and skipping alongside me as I walked toward the house.

  “Hi, Wanda,” I said in a bored tone as I tried to hide my smile.

  “What’s that in your hand?”

&nbs
p; “It’s called Wanda’s hand,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, the other hand.”

  “It’s a Polaroid camera.”

  “Why?”

  “Why is it a camera?”

  “No. Why do you have it?”

  “Because I want to take a photograph of somebody.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl I used to know.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl called Jenny-May Butler.”

  “Was she your friend?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well then, why do you want to take a photograph of her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is it because you miss her?”

  I was about to say no when I stopped myself. “Actually, I did miss her, very much.”

  “And are you going to see her today?”

  “Yes.” I smiled, grabbing Wanda under her armpits and swinging her around, much to her delight. “I am going to see Jenny-May Butler today!”

  Wanda began laughing uncontrollably and sang a song she pretended to know about a girl called Jenny-May, which she clearly was making up on the spot, much to my amusement.

  “I’m going to come with you,” Helena said, breaking into Wanda’s song, giving her a kiss on the top of her head. I took a photo of the two of them when they weren’t looking.

  “Stop wasting the cartridges,” Bobby barked at me, and I snapped his face too.

  “No, Helena, I don’t expect you to come.” I waved the photos in the air to dry before placing them in my shirt pocket. “You’ve got the dress rehearsal tonight. That’s more important. Just explain to Bobby where it is.” I began to get jittery again.

  She looked at her watch and I had a pang of longing for mine. “It’s just after one. The dress rehearsal isn’t until seven; we’ll be back in time. And besides, I want to go with you.” She touched my chin lightly and winked. “This is far more important, plus I know exactly where we’re going. This clearing is not much farther on from where you and I met last week.”