Into the Night Sky

by Caroline Finnerty

“He’s my son and he should be with his da. A child belongs with their parents and if his ma is dead then he should be with me. I don’t see why her sister should get him! I’m his da, I have rights!”

  “Well, it’s up to the judge then to make a decision based on the information in my report. I can only make a recommendation and –”

  “But I’m his da!”

  “It doesn’t matter, because legally you never applied to become a guardian.”

  “But I don’t need to be a guardian to me own son.”

  “Unfortunately this is the way the law works in relation to unmarried parents.”

  “This country is a fucking joke! He’s me son!”

  She delves some more into his relationship with both Tina and Jack before she decides that she has enough information for her report.

  “Okay, well, thanks so much, John-Paul. I really appreciate you answering those questions for me. As you know I have a few people to speak with before I finish my report.”

  She says goodbye to him and gets into her car. She drives back to the office to write up her notes from her interview with him while they are still fresh in her mind. She still needs to meet Tina’s sister Libby, who at the moment looks likely to be the best candidate for guardianship of Jack but that could all change when she actually meets her.

  Ella stares at the letter envelope in front of her, knowing what it contains. She tears the brown envelope along its gummed part and unfolds the letter inside. It is the court summons and it is dated for June 4th next. She feels her chest tighten and her breathing starts to quicken.She picks up the phone to ring Conor. She feels awful unburdening her problems on him when he has been through so much himself lately.

  “Hi – it’s me. Can you –” she gulps, “can you talk for a minute?”

  “Hi there, everything okay?” He sounds distracted like he is trying to do something in the shop and talk to her at the same time.

  “Yeah, I’m just . . .” She takes a deep breath. “The court summons has just arrived.”

  He exhales. “Oh no, Ella, I’m sorry. How are you feeling about it?”

  “I’m just finding it so hard.” He can hear the tremble in her voice that threatens to break at any minute. The shop bell goes and a load of tourists come into the shop. He is torn between going to help them and listening to Ella – but Ella sounds like she needs him more right now.

  She swallows. “It’s just difficult, y’know?”

  “Excuse me – we are looking for a tourist guide to Dublin?”

  “Of course it is . . . one minute . . .”

  There is the sound of the phone dropping and muffling. She hears him talking to the customers before he picks the phone back up again.

  “Sorry, are you still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Look, can I ring you back later? I just need to ring this through.”

  “Yeah, sure, no worries. I was –”

  “Sorry, I have to go – why don’t we meet for a drink later, yeah?”

  Conor shuts up the shop and walks over the cobblestones to the pub on Fade Street where he has arranged to meet Ella. He orders a pint and sits into a snug to wait for her.

  Her head appears around the corner a few minutes later. “Sorry I’m late. Dan was late home. Again.”

  “No worries, I’m only just in before you anyway.”

  She goes up to the bar and orders a glass of wine, before sliding into the seat beside him.

  “Is everything okay?” Conor asks.

  She flips over a paper coaster between her forefinger and thumb before taking a sip from her Chianti. “You know . . . the same. It’s dated June 4th.”

  “Well, fingers crossed it won’t be as bad as you think. Hopefully the judge will go easy on you as you’re pleading guilty.”

  “I don’t know . . . my solicitor has warned me that they might try to make an example of me because it’s bound to be a high-profile case – to raise awareness of the penalties for shoplifting. But it’s the media I’m most scared about.”

  “Well, I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know that. And you have Dan.”

  “Dan!” She laughs a hollow laugh. “Dan who thinks I should just suck it up and stop feeling sorry for myself?”

  “He didn’t say that?”

  “He can’t understand why I’m taking it so badly. He just doesn’t get how much this has ruined my life.”

  “Well, you did have a huge upheaval – the incident itself, then losing your job, then Mrs Frawley packing up. You need to talk to him about this and tell him exactly how you’re feeling.”

  “Do you know what, Conor?” She turns to look at him. “I just don’t think I have the energy to fight for our marriage.”

  “I can’t understand why you would let it drag on and just don’t try and talk to him. If you love him, which I know you do, then stop wasting time and try to get things back on track between you again.” If losing Leni has taught him anything it is that life is too precious to fight with the people we love.

  “But I’ve tried, Conor, honest to God I’ve tried so many times but he just doesn’t get it. At this stage it just seems so far out of reach!”

  “Are things really that bad between you?”

  “I just don’t know how to get him to listen to me – to what I’m trying to say. I just feel so alone right now. He just doesn’t understand what I’m going through. I think I’m starting to hate him, Conor – I never thought I use that word about my own husband but that’s how I feel right now.”

  Chapter 34

  The bell tinkles and before Conor can even look up he hears “Aaaaaaaaarrggggh!” and a red-faced Jack is standing in the middle of his shop. His eyes are glazed with tears.

  “What’s going on?” Conor asks, closing his notebook shut. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

  “We have a half-day and Rachel is in our house again. I hate her. She was going on and on with her questions and then she sat on a packet of Giant Jawbreakers that I had left open on the couch and they all melted and there was all green and red stuck to her skirt and she was all uppity saying she’d have to get it dry-cleaned and I was so mad with her because they were my sweets and I love Giant Jawbreakers even though Ma says they’ll break my jaws one of these days but I don’t think they will because I’ve eaten hundreds and thousands of them and it hasn’t happened yet. Then Ma said I had to say sorry to her even though it wasn’t my fault that she sat there – I didn’t tell her to sit down! So I ran out the door and came here.”

  “Okay, calm down, Jack.”

  “It’s not fair! I hate her.”

  “Who? Rachel?”

  He nods. “I hate the way she keeps coming to our house and tries to talk to me and makes Ma all cross and puts her in a bad mood. Me and Ma are much better when she’s not there. I don’t like it when Ma gets cross with me. Rachel ruins everything!”

  The anger gives way to tears.

  “Hey, come on, Jack! I bet if you go home now your ma will have forgotten all about it.” He puts an arm around his shoulders.

  “No, she won’t! She’ll still be mad and cross with me for running off when Rachel was there. She always says I have to be on my best behaviour when she’s in our house – she says it’s important that I show her what a good lad I am – but I just got so angry today that I couldn’t do it.”

  “Calm down, Jack – look, maybe you should go home in case your ma is worried – come back tomorrow when she has calmed down.”

  “No.” He shakes his head stubbornly.

  “Okay, I’ll cut you a deal – why don’t you take the book home with you and give your ma a big hug and tell her you’re sorry for running off on her, all right?”

  “No, I don’t want to bring it home,” Jack answers stubbornly. “I like coming here to read it.”

  “All right. You can read a few pages but then you’ve got to go on home, okay?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Jack?” he says sternly.
<
br />   “Okay.”

  “All right, you sit down over there and I’ll make you something to eat, deal?”

  “Okay,” he says sulkily.

  After Jack has gone home, Conor is doing some dusting in the shop when the door opens and the boys are standing on the step.

  “Paedo,” one of them says.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re a paedo – everyone knows it. We see you here with Jack White every day. If you don’t give us money we’re going to tell everyone that you made us go into your shop and were feeling us too.”

  Conor’s shoulders tense with rage. He can feel the blood coursing through his ears and making its way up along his face. He walks over to the eldest, grabs him by the collar of his jumper and lifts him off the floor so that his face is just millimetres from his own. His two friends start to back away towards the door and when they get there, open it and run.

  “Come back, lads, come back! Wait!” the boy he is lifting calls. “Keith – Ronan – wait!”

  “What’s your name?” Conor says as he steps outside and lowers him down onto the path, still keeping a hold of his collar.

  “Jordan,” he says shakily.

  “What?” Conor says again.

  “Jordan,” he says louder this time.

  “Now, Jordan, I’m warning you – this is the last time I’m going to say it. I want you and your little friends to leave me and my shop alone, do you hear me?”

  The boy nods quickly.

  “I can’t hear you – I said are you going to leave me and my shop alone?”

  “Yes.” His voice is trembling.

  “Good. I’m going to let you go now and you’re going to walk out of this shop and run after your little friends and I’m never going to see any of the three of you again. Do you understand me?”

  He nods eagerly.

  Conor lowers him back down and releases his grip from his jumper. The boy scarpers towards the door and runs out into the street.

  After they have gone it takes Conor a long time to calm down. His heart is still beating too fast. He instantly starts to wonder if he has gone too far. Will they go home and tell their parents? He could have started another battle entirely. He should have just ignored them. This could get a whole lot worse.

  Rachel drives along the driveway, hearing the sound of the gravel crunch underneath her tyres. Mature oak trees and sycamores shade the drive. Paddocks are on either side and the land rolls on for miles around her. Eventually the house comes into view. Jack wasn’t exaggerating when he said Libby lived in a mansion. It looks as though it is a new build but designed to look older. You have to stare really hard at the walls to tell if it’s old or not. She steps out onto the stones and the freshness of the country air fills her lungs. She climbs the steps leading to the front door, pushes the bell and waits.

  When Libby opens the door, Rachel sees the similarities between herself and Tina. They have the same bluish-green eye-colour with specks of hazel and they both have identical snub noses, but it is obvious that the woman standing in front of her has led a very different life to her younger sister. She doesn’t have that telltale weathered look in her face and, whereas she has only ever seen Tina wearing tracksuit bottoms and hoodys, her sister’s clothes appear to be far more carefully chosen. She greets Rachel and leads her down a black-and-white chequered hallway with neatly lined wellies and a coat stand. Rachel follows her through to the sunroom at the back of the house. Beams flood into the room, showing tiny dust particles dancing in the light. She looks out to the lawn where she can see a sunken trampoline and a tree house in the garden before the grass slopes off down towards a coniferous forest.

  “Thanks for meeting with me, Libby. You have a really lovely home. It’s so peaceful and quiet out here compared to the hustle and bustle of Dublin.”

  “Oh, thank you. You found us okay then? It’s a bit remote out this way,” she says nervously.

  “Your directions were spot on,” Rachel responds.

  Rachel looks around the room before walking over to a wall of family photos in matching silver frames. There are pictures of smiling children sitting on Santa’s knee, a family picture taken at a beach somewhere, another of the three boys with pink-tinged cheeks playing in the snow.

  “That one there is Jack,” Libby says, coming up behind her and pointing to one of a pink-faced newborn with a disgruntled look on his face. “I took it just minutes after he was born. I was with Tina in the delivery room. After Tina, I was the next person to hold him.”

  “It’s a lovely picture.”

  “Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’m all right, thanks.”

  “How about juice or water even?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Well, I have some apple tart if you’d like something to eat? I won’t lie, I didn’t bake it myself but it’s from the bakery in town – they always do good ones.”

  “Honestly, I’m actually grand, thanks.”

  “Sorry – I’m not trying to be annoying, I’m just not used to this, y’know? I’m a bit anxious if the truth be told.”

  “Don’t worry, you have nothing to be worried about, Libby. I just want to ask you a few questions to get a feel for you and your family and your relationship with Jack. There are no trick questions – just answer the questions as honestly as you can and we’ll be fine.”

  “Right, I’ll do my best.” She takes a deep breath.

  “Shall we get started so?”

  Libby nods.

  “Okay, to start with I just want to find out a bit about your own family. What ages are your boys?”

  “Well, Stephen is thirteen, Martin is ten and Eoghan is nine – there are seven months between him and Jack.”

  “And do the boys see much of Jack?”

  “Oh yeah, they all get on so well. We call over there a lot or sometimes Tina and Jack come to stay with us for a few days – you know, during the school holidays or at Christmas time. We’re very close.”

  “Okay, so how long have you been living at this address?”

  “Oh God, since just after Stephen was born – so twelve years now.”

  “And your children all attend the local school?”

  “Yes, well, the two younger boys are in primary school and Stephen has just started in secondary this year.”

  “How do you find the school?”

  “Great. It’s a small country school – there’s only one class in each year. My three have been very happy there.”

  “Okay, and do you work?”

  “I do a bit of flower arranging part-time. Well, it’s more a hobby than a job but if someone I know is getting married I’ll do their flowers or if someone needs flowers for another occasion, y’know?”

  “And do you work from home or do you have a premises?”

  “I have a shed down the garden that I use.”

  “And your husband, what does he do?”

  “He has his own business – they supply specialist equipment for hospitals.”

  “Does he travel much?”

  “No, not usually – he’s normally home every day.”

  “And how does he feel about potentially having custody of Jack?”

  “Well, he’s completely on board – he loves Jack – we all do. He wants it to happen as much as I do.”

  “And, financially, how would having another child to care for impact on your family?”

  “We’ve talked about it and it’s fine. I don’t mean to sound crass, but we can afford it.”

  Rachel notices Libby is blushing. She looks down at her notepad and writes something.

  “Have your sons ever had any behavioural problems or anything that I should know about?”

  “Nothing outside the normal things with kids – Eoghan did go through a period of bedwetting there about two years ago but it turns out he was being bullied by an older boy at his football training. We addressed it with the trainer and the other boy’s parents
and he’s been fine ever since.”

  “Why do you think Jack should live with you and your family?”

  “Because I love him. My family are like Jack’s extended family. He has been part of our lives literally since the day he was born. Tina is my sister and I love her dearly and Jack is an extension of that love. I can give him so much. I’ll never replace Tina, I wouldn’t want to, but I can certainly give him enough love and care and a happy family home and I think that’s worth something.”

  “What would you think if John-Paul was awarded guardianship?”

  “It would be wrong.” Her faces reddens. “He has been in and out of that boy’s life. There’s nothing stable about him. He can’t even look after himself, let alone Jack. I can’t let that happen, I couldn’t do that to Tina. It’s bad enough having to watch your little sister battle terminal cancer – it’s really, really hard,” she pauses for a moment, “but if John-Paul was awarded custody of that boy, it would break my heart altogether.” Her voice is trembling.