Look into the Eye

by Jennifer Barrett

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure.” It wasn’t like I knew where we were going anyway.

  I zipped up my coat and grabbed my hat from the coat stand.

  “Nice to meet you anyway, Mrs McQuaid.” Richie shook her hand. “We’ll see you later, hopefully.”

  Mum patted her hair, and smiled at him as she waved us off.

  “At least I’m in with your mother,” he said as we walked past the family’s cars down the driveway.

  I rolled my eyes. “So where are you taking me anyway?”

  “I’ll tell you both when we get there,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

  “Both?”

  Richie nodded to the car in front of us by the roadside. I peered in and saw Father O’Mara sitting in the passenger seat and Ed in the back.

  “Ed knows,” Richie said, “but I’m afraid I have to keep you two in the dark for just another short while yet.”

  “You left poor Father O’Mara and your brother sitting out here in the car? You should have brought them in to say hello at least.”

  “Sorry, but we’ve no time to lose. Forgive me?” Richie said with a cheeky grin.

  So cute.

  Stop! Just friends remember?

  It was a gate that I must have passed by hundreds of times on my way down to Brittas Bay, but one I’d barely noticed before. It was about nine foot high, with a bit of swirly detail at the top, and it was made out of some sort of metal – with rust and flaky olive-green paint competing for supremacy.

  Richie opened it with an old key. “This is usually your department, eh, Father? Do you still have that massive key chain for Ashvale?”

  “Not any more, Richard. Most of the doors take swipe-cards at Ashvale now.” Poor ol’ Father O’Mara didn’t seem at all impressed at being dragged halfway across the county. “Now, Richard, I wish you and Edward would tell me what is going on.”

  I turned to Ed myself. “Yes, come on. What’s this all about?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, it’s all Richie’s idea, but he talked to me about it yesterday and I think it’s a great plan, but I’m sworn to secrecy for another few minutes at least.” He looked at Father O’Mara. “I promise, you’re going to like it though, Father. Trust us.”

  “C’mon then, you lot.” Richie had already walked on through one of the creaking gates and was holding it open for us.

  Father O’Mara and Ed walked on ahead down the dark, mucky path that was almost completely enclosed by overgrown trees and bushes. I waited for Richie to close the gate behind us. Once he was ready, I turned around to follow the others, but as I did I tripped over a low branch that was sticking out. I grabbed for Richie, and he caught me before I fell.

  “Thanks,” I said, steadying myself again.

  “Mind yourself there, this path is quite slippy.” He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me down the rest of the way. We didn’t speak on the way, but I was so aware of his hand on my back, and of him beside me, that I almost forgot Ed and Father O’Mara were with us at all.

  “What’s this?” asked Father O’Mara, looking up at the crumbling old building that had been hiding around the corner at the bottom of the path.

  “It’s very big,” I said – mainly because I didn’t really know quite what else to say.

  The place was an absolute wreck. It looked like it might once have been a big old farmhouse. It was three stories high, and made of grey stone – possibly granite, but it was hard to make out for all of the ivy and overgrown bushes covering the walls. A small section of the slate roof had fallen in, but otherwise it looked relatively intact structurally. Tucked in just beside the building was a beautiful old oak tree, but underneath it a pile of discarded beer cans and a patch of scorched earth.

  We were standing at what looked like the back of the house, and could just make out the remains of what was possibly once an old vegetable patch or garden in front of us. There was a small structure just outside the main house, which looked like it had once been a shed for animals, or an outhouse. Most of the windows were smashed or missing their glass, but the frames were still there and the back door was closed and still on its hinges.

  Father O’Mara came over to us. “It’s a fine plot of land, Richard, and a grand big house.” He put his hand on Richie’s arm. “Tell me what you’re thinking, son.”

  “Well . . .” Richie looked at Ed, then back to Father O’Mara, “I would like to present to you, Father – your new retreat centre!”

  Father O’Mara just looked at Richie. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.

  Richie went over to Ed and put his arm around his brother. “We want to donate this place – our mother’s family house – to you, Father, for the young people. It’s the perfect location for the new centre.”

  Father O’Mara just nodded thoughtfully.

  Ed stepped away from Richie and looked back up at the house. “Rich, are you sure about this? I mean, now that I see it for myself, it’s clear the place is falling apart. It’ll cost us an arm and a leg to do it up.”

  “I know it doesn’t look much now,” said Richie, “but that’s where Dec and his construction firm come in. I talked to him yesterday, and he’s a hundred per cent behind the project. We’ll probably need a couple of other guys to come in on it too, but we’ll find them.” He walked back over to Father O’Mara. “Just think of this place after it’s been given a complete overhaul, Father.”

  “That’ll need to be some overhaul!” said Ed. “Even with all that help, Rich, would it not be cheaper to build somewhere from scratch rather than renovate this place?”

  “Not necessarily,” Father O’Mara finally interrupted. I’d been beginning to wonder if he was ever going to say anything. “I like it actually. In fact, I think it’s the best of all the buildings we’ve seen so far, Edward. It has a certain character about it.”

  I smiled. “Yes, I think it could work too,” I said. “It’s very charming, and if we can get all the building costs covered . . .”

  “Right.” Richie held his hand up. “Hold that thought – wait till you see the best bit. Come on!” He strode off around the side of the house.

  Ed looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. “We’d better go see what else he has in store for us.”

  As we came out into the open at the end of the side passage of the house, a gust of wind forced me to close my eyes. When I opened them again and wiped the few tears from the wind away, I immediately saw what Richie was talking about. Stretching out in front of us, less than fifty metres away across an overgrown grassy field at the front of the house, was a jagged cliff-edge – we could hear the wild Irish sea crash up against the rocks at its feet.

  The place was alive.

  “So, what d’ye think?” Richie turned around. “Not bad, eh?” he asked with a grin.

  I glanced at Father O’Mara beside me – he was clapping his hands, and bouncing up and down on his toes.

  Richie came over to stand between us. “I think he likes it,” he said.

  “I most certainly do, Richard,” Father O’Mara said. “It’s incredible, but –” He looked over at Ed, who was smiling and staring out at the sea. “Are you quite sure you boys want to do this? Rose left this place to you. It’s an amazing plot of land – you could do a lot with it, and Rose obviously wanted you both to have it.”

  Ed turned around to us. He smiled at Father O’Mara, then nodded to Richie.

  “We want you to have it now, Father,” Richie said. “We want you to go on helping young people find their way in life, the way you helped me, Ed and the other lads.” He put his hand on Father O’Mara’s shoulder. “All I ask is that we name a small part of it in memory of Ben . . .” he looked at Ed, “and another part for our mother.”

  Ed smiled and nodded.

  Father O’Mara took Richie’s hand in both of his. “Of course we can do that. Thank you, Richard.” He took a step over to Ed. “Thank you both. This is truly a wonderful thing that you’re doing.
I am humbled by your generosity.” He put a hand on Ed’s shoulder then. “Shall we take a look inside the house?”

  Ed nodded and took the keys from his brother.

  “I’ve never seen Father O’Mara look so happy,” I said to Richie as I watched them walk off towards the house.

  But Richie seemed distracted. After a couple of seconds, he took deep a breath in and took my hand. “Let’s walk a bit, will we, Mel? I’d like your expert opinion on the sea view from down there.”

  The wind whipped around us as we walked hand in hand down to the cliff edge. I stole a glance at Richie – he looked quite serious, almost lost in thought.

  I should really try to talk to him now, I thought, find out exactly what’s going on with Lucy – and why he’s been making such an effort to see me.

  But something stopped me as I felt his hand in mine.

  Just a few more minutes couldn’t hurt, could it?

  “So did you have any more thoughts on your travels next year?” he asked. “Any more whale-watching on the horizon?”

  “Yes, most definitely,” I said, “I mean I haven’t quite worked out where or when yet, but I’m thinking of taking a few months off together at some stage next year. Try and see a bit of the world, do some diving, and hopefully see a lot of whales along the way.”

  He stopped by the cliff edge. “What about Japan? You could volunteer with Greenpeace?” He turned around to face me. “In fact, that’s a great idea – I could introduce you to my mate Takumi, who works there on the whaling campaign when he’s not at sea. Or to Ray, who’s with the International office – you’d love it, Mel.”

  I smiled. “Sounds great, I might take you up on that.”

  I let go of his hand.

  I needed to do this. I had to stop things before they went too far and I wasn’t strong enough any more.

  “Richie?”

  But he held up his hand. “Mel, before you say anything, there’s something I’ve been trying to ask you – if I don’t do it now, I never will.” He took a deep breath. “I just wondered if, in between all that travel and saving the whales, whether you might be able to find time to squeeze me in for an oul’ coffee, or a bite to eat – even a bit of whale-watching or whatever it is you whale-lovers like to do?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m asking you out, Mel.”

  He looked so nervous, so genuine, that I almost gave in.

  But I couldn’t risk it. I looked down at my feet. “Richie, you’re a great guy, and I hope we can be good friends, but I don’t think any more than that would work between us.”

  He looked surprised, and hurt. “Why not? We’d have as much chance as the next couple. Why not let go of the ‘single’ thing, Mel? Give a guy a chance.”

  “It’s not that, Richie. I need to be able to trust the man I’m with.”

  He nodded slowly, then looked down. “All right – I get that. You know my faults better than anyone, Mel, I could understand you not wanting to get involved with me.” He looked back up. “I just hoped that you would at least give me a chance. I wouldn’t mess up this time, I promise. I can honestly say I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

  I looked into his eyes – his lovely dark, brown eyes. He looked so genuine, I really wanted to believe what he was saying.

  “You can’t do this, Richie,” I said. “You can’t stand here and say these things to me, then go home to Lucy.”

  His whole face changed. “What would make you say something like that? Lucy and I finished months ago – you know that, Mel.”

  “Just a couple of days ago you were staying over with her – now you’re here saying all these things to me.” I took a step away from him and looked out over the sea.

  Richie followed me and put his hand on my arm. “Mel, you’ve got the wrong idea. I stayed in Lucy’s on Sunday night to meet her parents to sort things out with them too – they were away until Monday morning. And yes, Lucy and me sorted a lot out this weekend, but we are well and truly over. In fact, she’s seeing some guy from Mayo now – it’s good, I’m happy for her.”

  He turned me around to face him. Holding on to both of my arms, he said, “I’m moving on, Mel. With or without you, I’m moving on.” He put a finger under my chin and lifted my head up so I was looking straight at him. “But I’d really like it to be with you.”

  “I don’t know, Richie . . .”

  “What are you afraid of, Mel?” His eyes searched mine for an answer.

  I looked at the good man reaching out to me. I wanted so badly to go to him, to be held by him, kissed by him, to look into those eyes again and again.

  I took a long, deep breath in – the fresh sea air reminded me so much of Norway and that precious moment with the whale. And my fear melted away.

  “Mel?”

  I smiled at him. “It’s nothing, Richie, I’m not afraid of anything – not any more.”

  And I stepped into his arms.

  Epilogue

  To: Richard Blake

  From: Melanie McQuaid

  Subject: Missin’ you already :-(

  Date: 14 September 2008, 23.12 GMT + 9 hours

  Hello, Mister Blake,

  I’m sitting on my futon as I type, wishing you were still here beside me grumbling about my tiny Tokyo apartment or fighting me for the laptop to check the news on Reuters. By now you should be winging your way back home, probably watching a science fiction movie, or maybe even trying to finish off Moby Dick? Remember you have to finish it before getting home to win the bet :-)

  I just opened the card you must have left by the bed this morning. It was such a lovely surprise – but you really shouldn’t do that to a girl, y’know – I’m bawling here reading it! I love you too, you soppy, romantic fool. And I’m going to miss you too – so sooooooo much! It was really brilliant having you over here on holiday – two months was way too long to go without snuggles – let’s never do that again, eh?

  I know you said not to worry a bit, but I’m really sorry we were so busy on the campaign while you were here. It was great that you were able to help us out in the Greenpeace office with the media though – thanks again for that. Takumi was very impressed by my powers of persuasion! I’m really gutted that it’s not looking so good for the whales though, especially with two of our own people detained for trying to expose the corruption within the whaling industry. Hopefully the truth will win out in the end. I just wish we could get through to more Japanese people, make them see the harm whaling does :-( Still, I have three more weeks left on my volunteer placement – maybe something will give soon.

  Do give everyone my love when you get back home. Katy rang for a chat not long after I got back from the airport – apparently the first pilot retreat with the young people at the new centre went great this weekend. My nephew Austin was on it, and Dec’s daughter Tara. Katy said they all seemed to get a lot from the experience. You’ll be pleased to hear they loved Ben MacDonagh Park – they played rugby, soccer and rounders there over the weekend apparently. Isn’t that great? I have such a good feeling about the place, Rich – I think the little Wicklow Retreat Centre for Young People is going to be something quite special. Good luck with the builders tomorrow – say hi to Dec for me. Gosh, it’s hard to believe it’s just three weeks now to the official opening – it really has all happened so fast, hasn’t it? And then Katy and Frank’s wedding the following week – it’s all very exciting! I’ll be so sad leaving Tokyo and all of the team here, but I’m already counting down the hours till I get home for it all. And of course, until I see you again xx

  Right, I’d best get off to sleep. It’s late here and I can’t believe I won’t be waking up to look into your sleepy eyes beside me in the morning – boo :-(

  Love you

  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxM

  To: Melanie McQuaid

  From: Richard Blake

  Subject: Re: Missin’ you already :-(

  Date: 15 September 2008 16.27

  H
ello there, Miss McQuaid,

  I’m just home. Wrecked. Bloody connecting flight from Abu Dhabi was delayed by two hours. The only good thing about it was that I had plenty of time to read, and so yes, I did indeed finish Moby Dick – once I got into it, it was pretty good actually – I quite liked that Ishmael guy and the whale action was impressive. But the best bit is that I can now look forward to watching my entire Doctor Who box-set collection with you on your return – a deal’s a deal after all!

  I’m sure you’ve seen on the news, but all hell is breaking loose on the international markets today after the Lehman’s collapse earlier. I should really go to bed, but I’m glued to the box.

  Great to hear about the pilot retreat. I won’t be able to take tomorrow off now after all, so I’ll have to get Jangler to follow up with Dec and the builders about the centre’s snag list instead – hopefully they’ll be nearly finished by now anyway.

  Right, best go check out what’s left of the markets before I collapse into bed. Keep fighting for those whales, Miss, they need all the help they can get.

  I’ll miss your cute snoring beside me tonight, but call you tomorrow.

  Your devoted love slave,

  Rich

  To: Richard Blake

  From: Melanie McQuaid

  Subject: Re: Re: Missin’ you already :-(

  Date: 15 September 2008 00:35 GMT + 9 hours

  Oi, you! I do not snore! Cheek!

  Great you’re home now, and hey, don’t worry about calling – I know you’re going to be really busy with the Lehman’s thing over the next few days. Talk when you can. Hope the jet lag won’t be too bad tomorrow.

  Gotta go sleep now, my eyes are closing as I type – long day today, they work us poor interns hard here!

  Did I mention I miss you? Well, I do – LOTS!

  Love you xxM

  PS: Oh God, Doctor Who? Beam me up, please, Scotty!

  To: Melanie McQuaid