‘It’s best if I just have a normal day,’ she said. ‘Get everything back to normal again. By tonight Damien will have calmed down and so I’ll get dinner on and we’ll watch TV and the kids will be so relieved…’ She started crying again and spent the whole day sobbing on and off as though a dam of emotion had been breached and, as she desperately managed to stem one flow, another hole formed.
By 5.30 p.m., when the big black car pulled up outside, she was recovered enough to go home, her make-up redone. I wanted to stop her from going, to go and pick up Ellie-Mae and Frankie and… I don’t know, find somewhere safe for them to live.
‘Will you call me, at any time, if you need anything? Promise?’
‘I’ll be fine!’ Jessica’s big smile was back, like an actress transforming before going on stage.
I watched as she ran out of the door and into the car, and I couldn't shake this feeling that something was going to happen and that it wouldn’t end well.
24
That evening, I took the bus to the hospital in Dún Laoghaire, thinking about Jessica and the children. I kept taking out my phone to see if she had texted – which of course she hadn’t – or to attempt to send a text myself, just hoping she was okay, but I kept deleting everything. Should I never mention it again and wait for Jessica to bring it up? Or maybe everything would be all right and Damien would change?
At the hospital, I found my way to Shirley’s room. I knocked on the door and peeked in. ‘Hello?’
Cara was sitting on the chair, her feet pulled up and resting on the bed, her copy of The Brothers Karamazov open beside her. Shirley, meanwhile, was sitting up in bed, propped up by about eight pillows, her shawl over her shoulders. She looked up and smiled.
‘I just came to see how you were,’ I said. ‘I’m Olivia… I was…’
‘Oh, I know who you are,’ she said. ‘My Cara has been telling me all about last night… I can’t remember too much about it…’
‘I’ve been filling her in,’ Cara said. ‘Telling her about what happens when she doesn’t take her tablets. And reminding her that invincibility is not one of her superpowers.’
Shirley looked apologetically at Cara. ‘I thought I was doing so much better,’ she said, ‘thought I didn’t need those silly pills… you know how it is…’
‘I’ve bought you two cups of tea,’ I said, putting them down on the table over the bed. ‘And some fruit cake from the shop downstairs.’
‘That looks lovely,’ said Shirley. ‘Thank you. Cara needs building up after the exams, I think she needs a little bit of TLC.’
I moved the table closer so she could drink her tea.
‘I certainly don’t need my grandmother not taking her tablets which causes her to black out,’ said Cara. ‘This was all a very nice end-of-exams surprise. Thanks, Nan.’
‘The doctors are finding the right dose for me, and I’ll be in for another couple of days. And then, right as rain…’
‘As long as you take your tablets every day,’ said Cara. ‘And don’t miss one.’
‘I won’t! Better do as she tells me because she’s such a clever girl,’ said Shirley. ‘Brains to burn this one. Born clever. She’s got a place in New York University. Did you know that? Refusing to go, however, despite the scholarship. How many people get a scholarship to college?’
‘It’s incredible news,’ I said.
But Cara was busy studying her hands. ‘It would be,’ she mumbled, ‘if I was going. Which I’m not.’
‘I’ve told her to go,’ said Shirley to me. ‘It’s not like New York is Mars.’
‘But it’s a six-hour, three-hundred-euro flight away. It’s not like popping into town.’ Cara paused. ‘And then there’s you who doesn’t take her tablets when she’s been told to.’
Shirley looked at me and then back to Cara. ‘I was foolish,’ she said. ‘But I’ve learned my lesson. And we have Dr Butler close by and he has told you he’ll keep an eye on me. He said he’ll come and make sure I take them. Not that he will need to because I am not going to allow yesterday to happen again.’
‘But Dr Butler isn’t going to come in every day, is he?’ Cara said, getting upset. ‘That’s not practical. I’m the only one who can do that. I can’t trust you to stay well!’
Shirley sighed. ’It used to be me who was overprotective of this one,’ she said to me, ‘and now it’s the other way round. We look after each other, both worry about each other.’ She smiled. ‘It’s just the two of us, you see. My daughter… well, she didn’t make it through the birth…’ She stopped for a moment and Cara was looking at Shirley, listening intently. ‘My Sarah was just like Cara, bright as a pair of patent shoes. Sparkled, she did. Wouldn’t stop talking, ideas flying around like birds. She had wanted to go to college, you see. But then she fell pregnant. And we were going to make it work. Stay here, I told her. I’ll mind the baby. You do your study. And it will be the three of us in our house.’
Shirley looked back at me, her eyes full of sorrow. I wished Mum had had the same loving support that Sarah had had, but then for Sarah not to have made it was such an insurmountable loss. Mum and I were lucky.
‘I am so sorry to hear about Sarah,’ I said, sitting down at the very end of the bed.
Shirley shook her head. ‘Do you know, I have struggled to come to terms with it, to understand why God took my Sarah, and it was a test, I know that, and, at times, one I didn’t think I would pass. I’m no scholarship girl!’ She gave a little laugh but tears were in her eyes. ‘But each morning I kept waking up. And each day, I had this lovely girl here to look after. And once Cara started talking, she didn’t stop, just like Sarah. And there was no way I could spend all that time missing what I lost, I kept being faced with all I had gained. So, God, they say, works in mysterious ways.’
I noticed that Cara didn’t try to change the subject, as she did when Shirley was complimenting her, she was just listening. Every word was a new brushstroke in the portrait of her mother. She leaned over and pulled the shawl over one of Shirley’s shoulders where it had slipped a bit, as though Shirley was the most precious thing in the world to her.
‘I was at home when they called with the news,’ went on Shirley. ‘We didn’t have a phone back in those days, so Sarah’s emergency number was the neighbours’. I remember Mrs O’Brolchain running over, crying. She didn’t speak for a moment and then she just blurted it out. “She’s gone. Your Sarah’s gone.”’
Shirley stopped. She turned her head to look out of the window. In the background was the sound of the hospital – voices, rattling trolleys, someone laughing. Cara was fiddling with the buttons on her brown cardigan.
Shirley continued, ‘I said, “Gone where?” I must have sounded like I’d lost my marbles and poor Mrs O’Brolchain had to say it again. “Gone. She…” She was trying to remember the word. “She haemorrhaged.” And I was looking at her as though she was speaking a foreign language. And then other neighbours began to arrive. Mrs O’Brolchain’s husband had been knocking on the doors, lovely man, telling them, and they were all suddenly there, all these women in the kitchen, leading me to a chair, kettle on, hushed voices, and I sat there with my heart fully stopped.’
Cara had her head down.
‘And then,’ Shirley went on, ‘it was about an hour later when I thought to ask about the baby. “Mrs O’Brolchain?” I said. “What about the baby? Where’s the baby?” I was suddenly so worried that there wasn’t a baby. That the baby was gone too. And everyone turned to Mrs O’Brolchain and she went bright red. “I forgot to tell you about the baby!” she said. “It’s a girl. And they said she was doing fine.” Well, I stood up then, my heart pumping away again, because it had to. I couldn’t sit there for any longer, despite losing my Sarah. I said, “I am going to the hospital to see my daughter and to collect my granddaughter.” And I put on my coat and six of us went in on the bus to town.’ She took Cara’s hand in hers and patted it. ‘And when we got here, I kissed my Sarah goodbye, told her
I’d see her again – I am certain of that – and then we all went to the nursery where there were all these cots. In one was this little baby, the smallest, who looked just like Sarah, same tiny nose and the same way of scrunching up her face. On her wrist was a little label, “Baby Sarah”, and that just broke my heart because I’d had a baby Sarah, I’d taken her home all those years earlier. And here was another one except this one was Baby Cara. I had her in my arms and inside my coat all the way on the bus.’ Her hand squeezed Cara’s. ‘This one’s just like her mother, just as clever, just as kind…’
There was a knock on the door of the room. The three of us looked up to see Will standing there.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘And how is the patient doing?’ He smiled at Shirley and then Cara… and then me. ‘Now, Shirley, I have bought some crossword books for you. The only ones they had in the shop. Hope they aren’t too easy for you. I know you like the impossible kind.’
‘Thank you, Dr Butler,’ said Shirley. ‘And thank you again for last night.’
‘It very much was a joint effort,’ he said. ‘Cara was amazing. Calling the ambulance, looking after you. Staying with you the whole time. And Olivia, of course.’
Shirley nodded. ‘Olivia is a Sandycove girl,’ she said. ‘She’s part of the village where people look out for each other. I thought it was only in the old days. Someone would keep an eye on your children. Clothes cleaned and everything. I thought things would change, that once new people started moving in, that it wouldn’t be the same. But it is. People are just as kind as they always were… it’s… what’s the word I’m looking for, Cara?’
‘Community.’
‘That’s the one, community. Except you two are Sandycove born and bred. It’s nice when people come home again. You in New York, wasn’t it, Doctor? Olivia, where were you?’
‘London,’ I said.
‘And now you’re back,’ went on Shirley. ‘Ready to put down roots?’
‘Maybe…’ I said.
‘I’m looking forward to going home,’ said Shirley. ‘You know what film Cara has lined up for us? She can do that, you see, any film I say I have a fancy for, she can find it. I don’t know how. Well, we have Casablanca next, don’t we, Cara?’ And she began singing. ‘A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh…’ She nudged Cara. ‘Come on, Cara, love. You know this one.’ And Cara suddenly wasn’t the slightly moody, highly intellectual teen she normally was, she was a loving granddaughter, who’d do anything for Shirley, even sing.
‘The fundamental things apply… as time goes by.’
‘Will, Olivia, join in,’ ordered Shirley.
And so we had to, a little awkwardly and quietly.
‘And when two lovers woo,’ the four of us sang, gaining a little more confidence. From the bed, Shirley held Cara’s hand on one side, mine on the other, as we swayed from side to side. Shirley’s voice was slightly quavery, Will’s deep and quite impressive, Cara’s sweet and high and mine pretty rubbish. ‘They still say I love you…’
‘Will, take Olivia’s hand,’ Shirley quickly shouted before the next line and Will had no choice but to take my hand.
‘On that you can rely. No matter what the future brings…’
I caught Will’s eye and he grinned.
‘As time goes by…’ Shirley went high on the last note, and Will went low, making us all laugh.
For a moment, I felt so happy, bathing in this simple moment with these lovely people. And I knew I would miss Will when I went back to London. I would miss everyone, from Jessica to Cara, to Shirley, to Catherine and Dermot and Jake, and all these lovely people. And I would miss Sandycove and, most of all, I would miss Mum. I wanted to be around for her and support her in all her new adventures, not hundreds of miles away, the two of us not involved in each other’s lives. She was too important.
When Shirley’s dinner arrived, Will and I took it as our cue to leave
‘I’ll stay here this evening,’ said Cara. ‘Get the TV to work. We could watch Coronation Street together.’
And then I realised Will was still holding my hand.
‘Do you need a lift home?’ he said, releasing me.
‘That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.’
He shook his head. ‘None at all.’
‘By the way,’ he said, as we walked through the hospital towards the main doors. ‘Remember those boxes I told you about, the ones I found in the attic? I went up this morning and I found an envelope, tucked in beside the water tank. It had a name on the outside. Thomas O’Neill. Inside, there are letters. Lots of letters.’
They were probably nothing: bills, receipts. Just something left up there by mistake. Except… they’d been hidden. By someone. Who would have done that? Hidden, and then forgotten about them. We’d reached Will’s car, where Pablo sat in the driver’s seat waiting impatiently for Will.
‘Would you like to come and see them?’ he said. ‘When suits you?’
‘Tomorrow?’ I said. ‘I’ll bring Mum… I have to do something with Bronagh first… we’re collecting her mother from… from somewhere… but I should be back by 7 p.m., would that work?’ It was probably nothing, I thought. Definitely not lost treasure or anything worthwhile. But still. We were O’Neills, so even if they were only bills, they still belonged to us.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that sounds perfect.’ And he smiled at me before opening my side and then getting in the driver’s side, to the delight of Pablo.
And then the thought ran through my head that maybe it would be okay to allow myself to think nice things about Dr Will Butler, that I wouldn’t be hurting anyone if I did join the swarms of his fans. When you find yourself singing and holding hands with someone, it turns out there’s no going back.
Mum seemed cautiously pleased when I told her about the letters. She and Henry were sitting in the garden having a cup of tea, the evening still warm, when I got home.
‘I don’t know what they could be,’ she said. ‘Dad’s brother threw everything out. He employed this crowd of house clearers to come in and take everything. I had Mam’s locket and that was all I wanted. What do you think, Henry?’
‘There’s only one way to find out.’ He shrugged. ‘I think it sounds intriguing.’
‘Could Gran have put it in the attic herself,’ I said, ‘without telling anyone?’
‘It’s a possibility,’ Mum conceded. ‘It would be nice… and it’s very kind of Dr Butler to even try and make the connection. But I imagine they have little value to us. I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘But it’s worth a try.’ And, I thought, it was another excuse to see Will.
‘By the way, Olivia,’ Mum went on, ‘you will come to Henry’s birthday party on Friday, won’t you?’
I nodded. ‘Of course.’ I was fiddling with my handbag strap. The leather had come loose and it was about to snap off.
‘I’m going to buy some champagne,’ said Henry. ‘Treat it as a celebration for all of us. A welcome-home-Olivia party, a nearly-off-the-crutches-Nell party and a happy-birthday-Henry party.’
‘Sounds fab,’ I said, still fiddling.
‘What’s wrong with your bag?’ asked Henry.
‘It’s the strap,’ I said. ‘It’s about to snap off, the leather is all worn away.’
‘May I have a look? Hmmm.’ He looked at it. ‘Nell, may I borrow your hammer? Failing that, a large stone.’
‘My toolbox is under the sink,’ said Mum, as Henry disappeared inside. And within a moment, we heard a giant thwack and another and he was back.
‘There we go,’ he said. ‘Good as new.’
And it was. ‘What did you do? It’s amazing,’ I said, marvelling at it.
‘Just made another hole,’ he said. ‘It will be strong enough, but it’s ten centimetres shorter…’
‘I can’t notice a difference, and anyway, I always found it a bit too long.’ I smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Henry.’
�
��My pleasure.’
‘I’m going to miss you when you go back, Olivia,’ said Mum.
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I said. ‘I’m going to really miss everyone, actually. And Jessica…’ I stopped. ‘You see…’
‘What?’
‘Damien…’ I began, and stopped again. I had promised I wouldn’t say anything but I hadn’t stopped thinking and worrying about her.
Mum gazed at me, her face serious. ‘So you know then?’
‘You know?’
She nodded. ‘Of course. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s going on.’
‘I saw this bruise and this red mark on her neck. And then she told us about it, but she won’t leave, because she loves him and he’s always sorry.’
‘She’s stuck. It’s an impossible situation. Sometimes people don’t ever make the jump. Sometimes you are doing all you can to survive.’
‘What can we do?’
Mum shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I’ve lain awake worrying about her. I’ve kept the flat above the shop empty… it sounds silly now, but it’s been in the back of my mind that one day she and the children might need somewhere to go. Every time I think I should rent it out, I just can’t. Just in case.’ Mum shrugged. ‘It’s such a hard place to be, because you can only act when you are asked to. As a friend, you’ve got to be ready for when she does.’
Henry was looking grave. ‘Men like that don’t deserve a lovely family.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s a disgrace.’
25
Roberto: Finished Call My Agent last night.
Me: WHAT?
Roberto: Sorry. Just thought I would tell you so you could go ahead if you wanted to. Just box-set courtesy.
Me: But I didn’t think you liked watching on your own?
Roberto: Who said I was alone?
Me: Ah… the plot thickens.
Roberto: Did you get the photograph of the pineapple upside-down cake. Are you impressed?
Life's What You Make It Page 20