Look into the Eye

by Jennifer Barrett

  “I can’t believe it, Richie! Isn’t it fantastic? Mister Splashy Pants and the humpbacks are safe. Oh my God, it’s like the best Christmas present ever!”

  I laughed. You had to love this girl.

  “It sure is, Mel.”

  “Of course they’re probably still going after the fin and minke whales – it makes me so mad just thinking about it.” She frowned for a second, before her face broke out into an adorable smile. “But hey, when you see the difference it can make when the world comes together and says no, you just think anything’s possible, don’t you?”

  “You do indeed.” I smiled.

  She jumped up then. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got to tell my family and friends, and check the Illuminar blog. I need to send some emails too and update my fundraising page. Lots to do.” She started to pull on her coat, then stopped for a second, sat down again and beamed at me. “It’s just brilliant, isn’t it, Richie? Fifty beautiful humpbacks are safe.”

  I smiled and nodded. “It is absolutely fantastic, Mel.”

  She got up again.

  I stood up to help her with her coat. “So can I give you a call some time?”

  “Oh yes, of course. I’d like that – you must let me know how things go with Lucy. I really hope it all works out for you. Happy Christmas, Richie.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Happy –” But she was off. I watched her leave and sat back down for a few seconds.

  Dammit, I forgot to get her number.

  I jumped back up, but she’d already gone. I looked around on the floor, half expecting to see a lone glass slipper somewhere – but my life had never much resembled a fairy tale.

  I sat back down, and as I did I noticed a white woolly hat on the table.

  I smiled as I put it in my pocket. Perhaps my luck was beginning to change.

  Chapter 28

  MELANIE

  I was so excited when I heard the news about the humpbacks. It gave me such a boost that I cancelled my dinner plans with my mum and sisters, and spent the rest of Friday night and early Saturday morning either on the laptop reading the updates on the Greenpeace blog, or sending emails about my fundraising swim.

  I had to peel myself away from it all on Saturday morning to collect my sister’s kids for swimming. And, as I was being dragged out to do more wedding-dress shopping straight afterwards, Katy was coming swimming too – to make sure I didn’t escape.

  We were a bit early to collect them, and the kids were slow getting ready, so Nichola made Katy and me some tea and toast while we waited. I sat patiently waiting for her and Katy to get through the whole engagement congratulations and ring-admiring rituals before I could find a window to update them on the situation with the humpbacks.

  “Wow, you’re really into all this whale stuff, aren’t you?” Nichola said when I’d finished my excited ramble. “I can hardly keep up you’re talking so fast.”

  “She’s a woman on a mission,” said Katy.

  “Sorry. It’s just great to see the campaign having this effect, and to be able to play my part in it – however small. I’m just a few hundred euro off my fundraising target now, can ye believe? The momentum from the emails I sent out after the announcement about the humpbacks last night caused another flurry of donations.”

  “Sounds good – well done, you,” Nichola said, putting a plate of toast down in front of us. “By the way, Mel, not like you to miss our annual McQuaid girls’ dinner last night. Who was the friend you mentioned in your text – the one you said you were with before you bumped us off?”

  “Ah, sorry again about that, Nic. I’ll give Mum and the others a call later to apologise about not coming to the dinner. It was Richie Blake I ran into earlier – you know, the guy I mentioned I’d written to on board the Greenpeace ship?”

  “The journalist from Dublin?”

  “Yes – his second feature article about it all is in the paper today as it happens – not that I’ve had a second to read it yet.” I pulled the newspaper I’d bought on the way over out of my bag and put it on the table. “I bumped into Richie in town at a meeting late yesterday afternoon and we went for a coffee together afterwards. I didn’t notice the time go by, then when I got a text asking if it was true about the humpbacks, Richie called the paper to confirm the news. After that, I just had to dash home to read about it all online. I would have been no use at the dinner anyway, Nichola, I was far too excited.”

  “It’s all right, sure we got your text, and it’s great about the whales. So . . . it went well with this guy then?” Nichola leaned over the table, looking like she was anticipating some juicy gossip.

  “Ah no, it was nothing like that, Nic. He’s a nice guy and very easy to talk to, but he’s got a lot of stuff going on.”

  “Actually, Mel,” said Katy, picking up the newspaper and pulling the supplement out of it, “I was talking to Frank about him, and he said the Blakes are both pretty sound fellas. Maybe I was wrong about this Richie. And hey,” she pointed at the article, “he writes about whales? You two could be a match made in heaven.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ha ha – very funny.”

  Katy raised her eyebrows. “I was actually being serious.”

  “Well, I haven’t had the chance to read the article yet,” I said, taking the supplement from Katy and flicking to Richie’s piece. “But whales or no whales, I know Richie’s a good guy underneath all the bravado and the baggage, and in many ways I do like him – but, as I say, we’re just friends – keepin’ it simple.”

  “Ah, Mel,” said Katy, “I thought you said you were past all of that?” She looked at my sister. “I don’t know, Nichola – I’m beginning to like the sound of this guy. Frank was in college with his brother – reckons Richie might need quietening down all right, but for the right woman he could be quite a catch.”

  “Really?” said Nichola, her eyes lighting up.

  “All right, you pair – calm down. We’re just friends who chatted for a while yesterday over coffee. It was nice – not exactly earth-shattering stuff.”

  “So how did you leave it?” Nichola asked.

  “Leave what? There’s nothing to leave – we’re just friends, barely even that really.”

  But she was still staring at me. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” she said after a few seconds.

  Katy laughed.

  They drove me nuts when they ganged up. I sat up straight in my chair. “If you must know, I found out about the humpback hunt being cancelled, so I suppose I left in kind of a hurry.”

  Nichola groaned. “Ah Mel! You’re hopeless. Tell me you at least gave him your mobile number?”

  “He didn’t ask for it,” I said, almost wishing we could go back to talking about wedding dresses and engagement rings. “He has my email address and he knows where I work – what more does he need? Anyway, you’re both making way too much of this.” I closed the supplement, planning to read the article later in peace.

  Katy and Nichola smiled at each other.

  A change of subject was needed, and quick.

  “While I think of it, Katy,” I said, “that meeting yesterday was about a new retreat centre for young people. Father O’Mara – one of our board members at The Mill – asked me to see if you could give us a bit of advice – we need a counsellor or psychologist to advise us on the whole thing.”

  “Oh yes? Sounds interesting,” she said. “Tell me more.”

  So I told Katy all about the project.

  “You should come to the next meeting in January if you’re interested?” I said.

  “Yes, I’ll definitely come. I’d love to get involved in something like that.”

  “Sounds like a great project,” said Nichola. “Other than Father O’Mara and Richie, who’s behind –?”

  But we were interrupted when my nine-year-old niece Jackie bounded into the room.

  “Mom, I still can’t find my goggles,” she said, pulling a face.

  Nichola sighed. “I tho
ught your brother was helping you find them?”

  Jackie folded her arms. “No, he’s playing his computer game.”

  “What? Still?” Nichola went to the door and shouted up the stairs. “Aus-tin! Do not make me come up there!”

  “Want me to go get him?” I asked.

  “No, you stay right there and read whatever it is that journalist fella has to say for himself,” Nichola said, nodding at the newspaper supplement. She turned to go, then looked back over her shoulder. “And hey, sis, don’t rule the guy out for having a bit of baggage – we all have our issues, y’know? Nobody’s perfect.” She went off up the stairs.

  “Wise words,” said Katy before getting up from the table. “Sounds like they could be a while getting ready yet. Will I put more toast on?”

  “Go on then.” I sat back and opened up the supplement.

  Richie’s face grinned out at me from a photograph over the titles.

  I began to read.

  I’m told that when you look into the eye of a whale, you’re looking through the window of your own soul. I think it might even be true. The trouble is, after experiencing such intense joy, exhilaration and brilliance in one moment, you realise just what a disappointment life can be the rest of the time. But that might not be such a bad thing – for real change to happen, a catalyst is often needed. Could that moment with the whale have been the catalyst I needed?

  “Woah, Katy – this article’s about looking into the eye of the whale.” I looked up at her. “That’s what made me email him at sea.”

  “Really? Let me see.” She leaned in over the table and we read through the article together. It was so beautifully written – very personal, quite sad and deep, yet hopeful all at the same time.

  I knew Richie had been struggling with his mother’s death and his words about her were particularly moving. What I hadn’t realised was that he’d also been struggling with his friend, Ben’s death too – and for so long. In the article he talked about how hard it was to finally have to face up to both deaths while alone and at sea, and then about the impact of an email he’d received from a friend who was there when he really needed her.

  I wondered if it was me that he meant.

  The last few lines really captured the sentiment of the piece: I leave the humpbacks, the Illuminar and its crew a very different man to the one I was when I arrived. It’s been a turbulent voyage, but, thanks to the whales and a little help from a new friend, I’ve had my eyes opened and my soul serviced – and I’m finally ready to face back to the life and people I left behind.

  I read the final words, sat back and looked up. “I think I’m the new friend he’s talking about, Katy – that’s so lovely.” I groaned. “Oh God, did I make a mistake rushing off the other night?”

  “Hard to say. I mean, I see what you mean about having baggage – it sounds like he’s got more than a small airportful! But he’s very honest, and he seems to have got a lot from being on the ship, from your friendship and from seeing the whales. What is it about those whales?”

  I went to answer, but Katy held up her hand. “It’s all right,” she said. “I wasn’t really asking the question. I’d like us to get to the pool, and eventually the shops at some stage today!” She laughed. “Anyway, as you say, you have his email address, and we’ll see him at the next project meeting for the centre in January, won’t we?”

  “Hmm, true.” I turned back to read through the article again.

  The trouble was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to wait that long.

  As the day went on I tried hard to focus on swimming and on wedding dresses, but I kept finding my mind wander back to Richie. By the time I got home I was fed up just thinking about him – I decided the time for action had come. I needed to see if there was anything there between us.

  After all, what did I have to lose?

  So I sent Richie a quick email – this time no innuendo, no jokes. I suggested we meet up again soon. I didn’t want to suggest quite when, with Christmas in a couple of days, but I really hoped it could be soon anyway.

  Chapter 29

  RICHARD

  It was as close as I reckoned I’d ever get to being famous. My phone started to ring as soon as my second feature appeared in the supplement on Saturday morning, and it didn’t stop all day with calls and messages from family and friends. I was a bit embarrassed when I saw my own words in print at first. It was the most personal piece I’d ever written, but it was what I wanted to say. I had nothing to hide any more. I just wanted to be myself.

  After the article, everybody else got to see the real me as well – and from the sounds of the calls and messages they weren’t frightened off.

  Ed got genuinely emotional and choked when we talked about it on the phone. “It’s made me see a whole new side to you,” he said. “I hadn’t realised you’d been struggling so much over the years, Rich. Sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  “Don’t be an idiot, you had your own stuff going on.”

  “Even so, we’re brothers. We need to be there for each other – especially now Mum’s gone.”

  “Yep, you’re right, man. Anyway, we’re on to a new chapter now. It’ll be better from here on.”

  Sheila was very touched about what I’d written about my mother, and Derek said he’d spoken to my father who was very proud. But it was Jangler who stayed on the phone the longest – he wanted to know everything about my encounter with the humpback whales and about this friend of mine. I’m not sure whether he realised it was Mel, I didn’t mention any names.

  The one person I didn’t hear from on Saturday, though, was Mel. I checked my email a few times during the day, but no word.

  I wondered if she’d got to see the article yet, and if she had, had she recognised herself in it? I guessed I should really have warned her about it coming out when we met, and I should have let her know just how much her email and that phone call meant to me – before she read about it in the paper. But there had been so much else for us to talk about when we’d met, and then she’d left in such a hurry. I just never got round to it.

  Maybe I’ll drop her a line myself later on, I thought.

  I was on a high from it all anyway as I got ready to go out that night. It was going to be strange being out with the lads and not drinking. I was certainly missing the drink, but I was feeling a lot better in myself already, and I was just looking forward to be catching up with the lads again.

  The phone rang just as I was buttoning up my shirt.

  I picked it up and looked at the number: “MacDonaghs”.

  Woah. This was it.

  I sat down on the bed, and let it ring one more time before answering.

  “Hello, is that Richie?”

  “Lucy?”

  “Yes. Hi, Richie.”

  “Hi,” I said.

  “I’m sorry I’m only ringing now.”

  “Don’t apologise Luce. It’s me who should be apologising. I’m very sorry, I . . .” But my mind just went blank. “Shit, I’ve gone over this speech in my head a hundred times – but now that you’re here, actually on the other end of the line, I can’t remember a damn word of what I’d planned to say.”

  “It’s okay,” she said in a very quiet voice so that I could barely hear her. “I was so sorry to hear about Rose’s passing, Richie. I hope you and Ed are okay. It’s a big loss for you.”

  “Thanks, Lucy. Yes, it was a shock. I still can’t really believe she’s gone to be honest.”

  “I can imagine.” She paused before going on; “I read your article today, Richie.”

  “Ah,” was all I could think of to say. My brain had still not quite caught up with the situation.

  “It was very nice,” she said. “It sounds like the trip did you a lot of good?”

  “Yes. It did, Lucy, it really did. It gave me plenty of time to think about things – especially about all that happened between us.” I took a deep breath. “I’m just so damned sorry about it all, Luce.”

  She
took a few seconds before she spoke. “Thanks, Richie, I appreciate that. It’s taken me some time, but it’s okay now really. It just doesn’t seem to matter so much any more.”

  I was surprised. I never really thought Lucy would fully accept my apology, let alone say it didn’t matter.

  “Richie, I can’t stay on the phone now,” she went on, “but I’d like to see you if that’s okay? I’m staying with my folks over Christmas. Can you come to Glenamara? I’m sorry, I know it is very close to Christmas itself, but I think it’s important we talk.”

  I hesitated. “Eh ye-ees . . .I can . . .” I didn’t mind going to Clifden, even on the weekend before Christmas, but I wondered why she wanted to see me in person? Why couldn’t we have spoken on the phone? Or waited till she was next in Dublin?

  Then a thought occurred to me. She didn’t want to get back together, did she? She couldn’t . . .

  But I wasn’t sure and, all that aside, I wasn’t at all keen on running into Mr and Mrs Mac at Glenamara.

  “Richie, are you still there?” Then as if she could read my mind, she added: “If you could make it tomorrow afternoon, my parents won’t be here. They’re going to Galway for a Christmas party and won’t be back until Monday morning.”

  Well, that was something at least.

  “Okay, I’ll see you there at Glenamara tomorrow afternoon, Lucy.”

  “Good. See you then, Richie.” And she was gone.

  I stared at the phone for a minute, then went back in to the bathroom to shave.

  “Ouch!” I nicked myself with the razor.

  Nerves, I guessed. I was not looking forward to the next day but at least, whatever happened, it was a chance to try to start putting things right with the MacDonaghs.

  It was just starting to get dark when I arrived into Clifden. It was raining hard, but the outdoor lights were on so I got the full effect of Glenamara’s impressive façade as I emerged from the narrow avenue of pine trees which snaked up to house.