“It was dark and I didn’t see his face but I know it was a guy who was in college with us. Eric Keogh was his name.”
“And did you go to the Guards after?”
“No, I was too embarrassed. I was so drunk, Dan, really, really drunk and I’m still ashamed that I let it happen, that I was so out of it that a man was able to come into the room and climb on top of me.”
“But you tried to stop him?”
“Yeah, of course I did, but he held me down – he put a pillow over my head. I wasn’t able to fight back. Maybe if I was sober I would have been, I don’t know . . . ”
“Oh God, Ella.” He is holding his head in his hands. “Oh God.”
“There’s more. A few weeks later I found out that I was pregnant. I went to London and had an abortion.”
He raises his head to stare at her in shock.
“Do you remember the launch of the magazine that I went to a few weeks ago?”
Dan is nodding.
“Well, I saw him again for the first time in years. He was at the launch, standing under the archway in the Shelbourne. His eyes were burning into me, so I just ran. The next day I stole the handbag.”
The disbelief is there again. “Sorry, I just can’t take all of this in. First the shoplifting – the rape – and now an abortion as well? I’m sorry, Ella. I just need to get my head around all of this.” He stands up abruptly from the table and walks down the stairs to the living room. She hears him continue downstairs and the front door slams shut.
Dan doesn’t come home that night. Ella tries ringing his phone but he doesn’t answer. It is after two when she finally hears his key in the door. He doesn’t meet her eyes as he comes up the stairs and into the living room. She can feels the tension wind its way around the air in the room. She takes a deep breath and sits forward.
“Dan, please, I need to talk to you –”
This is met with a deafening silence.
“Please don’t ignore me, Dan, this is horrible – I can’t take it any more.”
“Well, you should have thought about that first before living a lie with me for all these years.” His eyes look glassy and she knows that he has been drinking.
“I thought that by telling you everything now it might help you to understand why I’ve been acting like I have over the past while.”
“Understand? Understand? How can I even try to begin to understand you, Ella? I don’t know you any more. You’re not the woman I married, and based on what you’ve told me recently, I don’t think I’ve ever known you.”
“I thought it was time to have everything out in the open for once and for all. I was trying to make you see what it’s been like for me.”
“What do you mean ‘what it’s been like’? We all have issues, Ella, but it still doesn’t make it okay to go around shoplifting. It was bad enough when I knew it was the bag and the bracelet but to hear that this has been happening for years and I’ve never known about it, makes me feel like such a fool. Do you realise how much you’ve humiliated me, Ella?”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you – I can’t seem to help it. It’s like a horrible force descends upon me and I have to do it – it’s the only way I can stop it. And then I feel good for about five minutes until it hits me what I’ve done and then the feeling is awful. I hate myself, I disgust myself.”
“Stop making excuses for your behaviour – if you were finding it hard to cope why didn’t you go and see a doctor afterwards and get yourself sorted out? I don’t get why you would let the situation get so out of control for all these years.” He is exasperated.
“I don’t know either. I just don’t know.” And she doesn’t know. It’s all she can think about yet she can’t put into words exactly how she is feeling. “I just don’t know.”
Chapter 50
“So today’s the day,” Tina says as Libby fixes her hair in front of the mirror in her bedroom.
“It is. I’m nervous.”
“What will be will be. There’s nothing more you can do now.”
“There’s no way they could let John-Paul have custody – it would be pure madness.”
“Let’s hope you’re right. How do I look?”
“You look great. You go in there and show that judge!”
“Right, wish me luck.” Libby leans in and Tina kisses her forehead.
“Make sure you ring me straight away, all right?”
“Course I will.”
“And tell Jack to come up to you as soon as he’s finished his breakfast – I don’t want him heading off down to that pervert in the bookshop.”
Libby meets with their solicitor outside the court and he briefs her on the way the proceedings will take place.
“Are you ready?” he asks when he is finished. “We’d better go inside.”
She nods. “Okay, let’s go.”
She swallows back a lump in her throat and follows him into the courtroom. Immediately her heart rate quickens as she eyes up the room. John-Paul’s legal team are already there seated on the right-hand side. He looks over at her. His eyes are narrowed and she finds herself looking away from him. She sees Rachel and flashes her a nervous smile.
After a few minutes the judge enters and Libby copies the solicitors as they rise and then sit down after he is seated.
“The case of The Child & Family Agency and Ms Martina White and Mr John-Paul Murphy and Ms Libby Kenefick. Can I have the representatives for Ms Martina White, please?”
Libby feels her chest tighten as their solicitor starts to speak.
“My client Martina White is unable to be present today due to end-stage terminal cancer, however it is her wish that her sister Ms Libby Kenefick should have sole guardianship of her son Jack White. The child’s father, Mr John Paul Murphy, has been an unstable presence in the child’s life since birth and has shown no consistent input in the raising of his son.”
Libby sees John-Paul’s face cloud over with anger.
“That’s bullshit!” he explodes.
“I have to ask you to remain quiet,” the judge says, “and kindly ask you refrain from such profanities in my courtroom. Your side will have your chance to speak. Continue.”
“He has never paid maintenance for the upbringing of his son. He also is an addict, which certainly supports the mother’s claim that he should not have guardianship under any circumstances. Ms Kenefick has a stable home and has been present in the boy’s life since birth. For the sake of the child and as per the child’s mother’s wishes, I strongly recommend that Ms Libby Kenefick be granted custody here today.”
“I now call the team of John-Paul.”
“My client is one of a growing number of men being held to ransom for the rights of their children by a system that is antiquated and outdated. The legislation is almost fifty years old –” John-Paul’s solicitor starts.
“I am aware of the legislation, thank you. Continue, please.”
“Sorry, Judge. Fathers in this country do not have a voice because they are not named on the birth certificate. Too often fathers are being denied essential rights, that is the right to raise their offspring, their genetic flesh and blood, because of an unfair and unbalanced system that favours the mother. John-Paul Murphy is another casualty of this system, a man who knows he is trying to turn the tide. He is aware that his previous drug addiction will be seen in poor light but he is in a recovery programme at present. I appeal to you now, your honour, to do the right thing. This child is about to lose his mother, let him not now lose his father too. A father who through no fault of his own, being pushed aside by a controlling and manipulative mother, was unable to be the constant presence that he would have liked to have been in his child’s life. I recommend my client John-Paul Murphy be granted custody of his son.”
The solicitor sits back down and silence falls on the courtroom. The judge finishes scribbling his notes before slowly looking up at the parties. He pushes his glasses up on his nose, clears his throat and star
ts to speak.
“I see many cases like this every day and it is claimed time and time again that the rights of the father are not listened to. The team of John-Paul Murphy believe the case of their client is the same. While I do feel for fathers in general in a case like this, notwithstanding that, based on what we have heard today, I would have grave concerns about Mr Murphy’s ability to be a fulltime guardian to his child. I also note the recommendation of Ms Rachel McLoughlin under the Section 20 report, which further supports this position.”
Libby sees Rachel lower her head when her name is mentioned.
“Therefore, I direct guardianship and custody to Ms Libby Kenefick. However, I also note the wishes of the father and the fact that the CFA recognises as a strength that Mr Murphy was agreeable and cooperative in all assessments and that his relationship with his son, as detailed in the report, is both loving and affectionate, and accordingly I award supervised access for two hours biweekly to Mr Murphy at a location of choice by the CFA.”
“Oh, thank God!” Libby stands up and exhales deeply.
John-Paul stands up and shouts up at the judge. “Yis are all the same! It’s a joke! Two hours? Two fucking hours every two weeks! Being a father doesn’t mean anything in this country!”
“I will again ask you to refrain or I will hold you in contempt of court,” the judge orders.
John-Paul gets up and leaves the room but his eyes do not move from Libby as he storms out of the courtroom. She feels a shiver run through her.
A smiling Rachel comes over to her then, clutching her folder.
“Well done, Libby – Tina will be relieved.”
“You can say that again! And I want to say thank you, Rachel, thank you for doing right by Jack.”
“Ach, I’m just doing my job. I wouldn’t have recommended you if I didn’t think you were the right person.”
“Well, thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch again in a few days to finalise things.”
Libby nods. It is a stark reminder of the real reason that they are here. They say goodbye and she waits until Rachel is gone before with trembling hands she fishes out her mobile and rings Tina.
“It’s going to be okay, Tina! He’s coming to live with me. John-Paul is allowed to see him for two hours every fortnight but only under supervision.”
“Well, thank God for that!” Tina starts to cry. “Oh, thank God for that, Libby! I can go in peace now that I know he’ll be with you.”
Chapter 51
“Jack? I’m not sure you’re meant to be here.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “But I wanted to see you.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t stay. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“But the nurse is in the house with Ma and Libby went off somewhere all dressed up so I came here to see you.”
“Was everything okay the other day after Rachel brought you home?”
“Yeah, she just wanted to talk to me about Ma but I don’t like talking about it.”
“How is she?”
“Still sick and tired. She keeps crying all the time. She tries to hide it and says she just has something in her eye or a pain in her tummy but I’m not stupid.”
“Look, Jack, I think you should go now – I don’t think Rachel was very happy with you being here the other day so maybe you should head on.”
His face looks sad. “You don’t want me here?”
“Of course I do, but I just don’t want you or me to get in trouble.”
“But why? We’re only reading books.”
“Sometimes people don’t like it when grown-ups hang out with young kids.”
“But I hang out with Ma and Da and no one says anything.”
“That’s different, they’re your parents – you’re supposed to hang out with them.”
“But you’re my friend, aren’t you?” He seems hurt.
“Of course I am –”
Suddenly the door flies open and his bell rings loudly.
“I fucking knew you’d be in here!” John-Paul roars. “C’mon quick, we have to go!”
“Where are we going, Da?”
“Just come on, Jack, and stop asking stupid bleedin’ questions!”
“Now just calm down,” Conor says, stepping in. “He’s only been here for a few minutes and he’s going now, aren’t you, Jack?” He rests his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Jack nods.
“Get off him! What d’ya think you’re doing?” John-Paul’s eyes are blazing and his lips are pulled back to expose his teeth, bared like an animal.
“I . . . I . . . wasn’t doing anything.” Conor stands back and raises his two hands in the air.
“I know your sort, don’t think I don’t! Luring young fellas in here, getting friendly with them so you can start fiddling with them, getting your sick thrills from them. I’ve heard about you!”
“Be careful what you’re saying now,” Conor says.
“Or what? You’re going to do this?” He swings with his right fist and lands Conor squarely in the eye. The pain shoots through his skull. Then another punch lands on his jaw and another and another. “Ya faggot! That’ll teach you not be hanging around young boys – ya paedo!”
Conor puts his hands up over his face to protect it. John-Paul is kicking him now, his ribs, his back – the pain sears through them. He can hear Jack screaming somewhere beside him. “Stop, Da, stop! Stop it!” But the blows keep on coming. “Please, Da, leave him alone, please, Da.” He can hear the panic in Jack’s voice.
Then Conor can hear the door opening and Jack is running out on the street. “Help!” he screams. “Someone help, please!”
This seems to bring his dad to his senses and the beating stops.
Conor catches his breath, which comes as a choking cough. John-Paul is standing over him and moves his face towards him so that he is only inches away. “You stay the fuck away from him, d’you hear me?” Drops of spittle land on Conor’s face.
Conor nods and spits out the blood that has filled his mouth. A final kick lands in his groin before John-Paul moves to the door. He is just at the threshold when he turns back to face Conor again and points his finger at him. “I mean it – if I find him back here again, next time you won’t get up off that floor, yeh pervert yeh!” He turns to Jack then. “Stop staring at me like a gob daw and come the fuck on!” And with that he is gone.
Conor picks himself up off the floor. Everything hurts, it hurts to breathe, his nose is running blood and his ribcage feels like it is on fire. Someone comes into the shop.
“Jesus! What happened to you – are you okay?” a woman’s voice asks.
Conor can’t see who it is through his swollen eyes.
“I think I’d better call an ambulance.”
Chapter 52
Dublin 2012
The flashing lights throw strobes of blue into the night sky when he arrives outside the hospital. Running from his car, he sees the ambulance doors fly open at the same time and a stretcher with his wife on it running out through them and into A&E. He starts to run behind them. He can see it on their faces, the speed with which they are doing everything. They wouldn’t run unless it was an emergency, would they? He is confused because when he got the call to say that there had been an accident, the man said she had just fallen, but this looks serious. He tries to call out after them but they keep running forward with the trolley so he can’t catch up. One of the ambulance men is doing a debrief to a woman in green scrubs. He watches, it feels from afar, as a team descends on the stretcher like an F1 team doing a tyre change in the pit stop. Each person is doing a different job while they take over and run off into another room with her like it is a relay race and Leni is the baton.
He wants to tell them that she is pregnant but they are gone too quickly. He goes up to the double doors that have swallowed his wife and stands there. The vinyl signs on the door say ‘Do Not Enter’ and he knows from watching hospital dramas that protocol says that he can
not enter and that he must wait outside – but is this really a time for protocol? It is Leni in there.
Suddenly there is another man standing beside him, looking ashen and anxious. His blonde hair is gelled back in a quiff – people don’t really wear their hair like that any more. He knows it’s the man who told him to come here and who kept calling him “mate”. Brian, he said his name was. He can’t remember his surname.
“Are you Conor?” he asks.
Conor nods.
“I’m so sorry, mate. I really am. I did everything that I could do. He just punched her. Out of nowhere. She was on her phone and he came up behind her on his bike and just punched her. He tried to get her phone but he missed and it went one direction and she went in the other. It was her head, y’know – I knew by the way her head bounced over the pavement like that, that it was serious.”
Now Conor is really worried. This isn’t just a normal mugging, this is much worse. He looks towards the double doors and whispers: “My darling Leni, what has happened to you?”
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