Where There's A Will

by Mary Malone

  “Mum and Dad are probably up there waiting to haunt me,” Carl had grimaced, reminding Ed how immature he could be.

  “Let their influence go! Their lives have been cut short. Nobody knows what’s waiting around the next corner. Grab this opportunity with both hands and let it be one less regret in your life.” Ed’s encouragement was limitless. And though he didn’t voice it to Carl, he wondered about his parents’ last thoughts. Had they had regrets?

  “I’ll give it a bash then,” Carl had decided, securing a promise from his brother that he’d attend his first game. Moral support on the sideline would make a pleasant change.

  Carl’s confidence soared over time – arguably to a level of cockiness in his early twenties where he took liberty rather than opportunity and extended his brother’s advice to taking every perceivable risk he could muster, leaving Ed to wonder if he’d encouraged him a little too much and succeeded in making him reckless.

  Thank you, Ed, Carl said silently now as he moved the rook piece straight ahead, oblivious to the knight waiting to capture yet another of his pieces.

  “Careless move – you slipped up there,” Ed commented, leaning his elbows on the small table and studying the board for his next move. “Distracted?”

  “Eye off the ball,” Carl responded. “I don’t intend making a habit of it though!” he added with a laugh.

  Ed held the pawn in his hand, shifting his gaze to his brother. “You and Beth? What’s going on? And don’t try and fudge an answer, Carl. I may be dying but I’m not a blind fool.”

  Carl’s expression paled at first, then turned a deep shade of guilty red. His brain whirred, the secret he’d been keeping from Ed jumping to the forefront of his mind. Frantically searching for an answer to the simple question he’d been asked, he muttered something unintelligible.

  “Speak up, Carl!”

  “There’s nothing wrong. We’re fine.”

  “Carl, give me a little credit at least. Spill!”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “Give me strength, kid brother. You forget I know you better than you know yourself.”

  “Speaking of strength, shouldn’t you be saving yours?”

  Ed shook his head. “Don’t be so patronising. And evasiveness doesn’t suit you, Carl.”

  “Sorry but look, we’ll work it out . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “She’s a keeper – a bit neurotic at times perhaps – but a keeper all the same. You should appreciate how lucky you are, not let some trivial nonsense drive a wedge between you. Somebody like her may never come along again for you. And I know you love her . . . at least you used to.”

  Carl let out a long sigh, staring at the modern art adorning the pale peach walls. Ed’s appreciation of art came a close second to his passion for fashion and designer clothing. The majority of his paintings – gathered over the years from a variety of galleries and exhibitions throughout the world – had been decorating the walls in his South of France chateau before his fall from grace when the chateau, paintings included, had been sold. He’d been cheered no end when Carl had managed to “rescue” a selection and arrange for them to be shipped to the hospice, never questioning how his brother had accomplished that or managed to have them released from the country. Choosing from such a large collection had been Carl’s biggest problem, trying to remember the ones Ed had loved most.

  “I’ll rest a lot easier now having these beauts around me,” Ed had declared when Carl arrived into his room one Saturday morning, the maintenance man behind him with an electric drill and some hooks. As each magnificent framed piece took its place on the wall, Ed launched into the story of where he’d purchased that particular painting or who had gifted it to him.

  If only there were a life partner I could have transported to his side, Carl thought with regret. Then I’d feel my contribution was making a real difference.

  Despite the many lovers in Ed’s life over the years, he’d admitted to Carl there had only been one he’d have settled down with for life. But he’d messed up and taken their unique love and special connection for granted. He had assumed incorrectly that their relationship could take second place to business, be put on hold when it suited him, yet still survive. Walking into their home after an intense three-week business trip, he’d been appalled to find a brief goodbye-note on the pillow of their king-size bed and he’d never found true love since.

  “Carl! Are you going to hold out on me all night? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you and Beth? It’s not as if I have all the time in the world to wait!”

  “That’s below the belt. Anyway, it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’ll work it out,” Carl ran a hand through his thick black hair, feeling like a rabbit in headlights. Finding an acceptable explanation – reasonable or not – would drag ancient revelations from the closet. He’d have to declare a lot more than the issues tearing his marriage apart if Ed was to fully understand the root of the problem. Although in a way they were all connected. The thoughts of sharing this confidence brought him out in a cold sweat. The tight bond they’d been sharing would be blown asunder. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine Ed’s disgust and disappointment – or worse still rejection. More than anything, Carl wanted his brother to have a good impression of him. Revealing his darkest hour would shatter that illusion for sure. And though he knew he was living a lie where his brother was concerned, Carl preferred it to its horrible alternative.

  But he had his work cut out for him. Ed wasn’t easily placated.

  “What’s driving you apart? That’s what I need to know? Beth adored the ground you walked on when you lived in Paris – and you her in your own way, come to think of it. What’s changed?”

  “Ed, you need to conserve your energy. No need to fret about us and our silly arguments. We have the rest of our lives to sort it out –” Oh God, he thought, what an insensitive statement. His guilt worsened when Ed closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead creasing as a fresh bout of pain flashed through his entire body.

  Carl changed the subject. “Come on, Imelda will be back later to whip your ass. Shouldn’t you get a bit of shut-eye in the meantime?” One of the nurses had taken to sharing an occasional chess game with Ed, something that eased Carl’s concern about his brother’s shortage of visitors.

  He reached across for the tablets left by Ed’s bedside, handing the small container and glass of fresh water to his brother. “Take these. They’ll take the edge off the pain.”

  Ed acquiesced, popping the pills in his mouth and washing them down with a slug of water. He flopped back in the chair.

  “I won’t give up until you tell me, Carl. And if I’m exhausted it’s down to you and your stubborn refusal to own up to what’s going on. I’m all you’ve got. Who’s going to sort you out when I’m not around? I want to know everything has been done to help while I still have breath in my body.”

  Carl felt torn, knowing on one hand that his brother was playing the invalid card to force information from him, while accepting on the other hand that he was genuinely concerned about himself and Beth.

  “And don’t think you’ll fob me off with a concoction of lies,” Ed added.

  “Trust me, Ed. There’s nothing at all for you to worry about.”

  “I want to die in peace and seeing that distant look in your eye, kid brother, isn’t making it easy for me. I know you. You can’t hide the truth, not when it’s flashing in your eyes.”

  Carl licked his lips, his discomfort increasing. “Ed, I’ll make an effort with Beth. I’ll get it sorted. Can we forget about it now, please?”

  “When that haunted look leaves your face, then I’ll forget it but until then . . .” His voice trailed off and he shrugged his thin shoulders.

  Carl’s guilt intensified. “I want to enjoy whatever time is left with you, make the best of it. Can’t we let it be about us brothers? Nothing else?”

  “Life isn’t like that, Carl. You can’t just shut out what’s going on arou
nd you.”

  “But it’s my turn to protect and support you for a change. Please let me do it my way. I thought you believed in letting me make my decisions and living by them regardless?” Carl’s steady voice belied the rising emotion inside him.

  Ed leaned back in his chair, the chess game forgotten. “We’ve come full circle, you and I. You’re the strong one now, leading for both of us.”

  “Hardly!” Carl exclaimed.

  “You underestimate your capability.”

  “That attitude mightn’t be unfounded though,” Carl interjected.

  “So if you want to take me out of my misery, let fixing your marriage be the final thing I can help you with.”

  Pushing back his chair from the table, Carl stretched his long legs to the side, careful not to tip against the table and disturb the chess pieces.

  “Beth’s obsessed with the house,” he began, wondering if that snippet would appease his brother’s concerns. It wasn’t an untruth – not entirely – just not the most significant reason behind their frayed relationship and the bad atmosphere prevailing almost all of the time now.

  Ed ran a finger around his cracked lips. “I told you: don’t patronise me, Carl. Not at this stage. You’re making it up as you go along.” He gave a weak smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “I’ll haunt you from the other side.”

  Carl didn’t respond for a while, his expression darkening, a lump rising in his throat. “That’s not funny, Ed. You’ve no idea how much I’m going to miss you when . . .” This time his voice was thick with emotion, a rare display of weakness for the youngest brother.

  Putting his head in his hands, Carl was torn apart with grief for the brother who sat opposite him, offering the same staunch support he’d always provided. His failing marriage gnawed inside him. His past actions had been unforgiveable but unavoidable, not that Beth was prepared to either understand or accept that. And neither would Ed if he knew the truth, no matter what dying wishes he proclaimed.

  He glanced up from the table, not surprised to find his brother staring at him, a questioning and expectant look on his face as he waited for his admission. But Carl’s lips were sealed on this subject. He was hiding a lot, had been for quite some time, several situations snowballing as a result of one wrong move. What a relief it would be to divulge his darkest secrets, he thought, imagining what it would be like to wake in the morning without the burden of a guilty conscience. But it wasn’t to be at this late stage. He daren’t risk a showdown with Ed, daren’t risk his brother’s disapproval so near his death, not when their relationship was stronger now than it ever had been. He couldn’t bear to see his brother’s belief in him collapse. Ed would not be hearing the truth – at least not from him. And that was his next big concern. How would he ensure Beth didn’t squeal? He took a deep breath and improvised as best he could to put Ed’s mind at ease.

  “Ed, honestly, it’s just that massive imposing house that’s coming between us. I never really wanted it if the truth be known and Beth’s obsessed with restoring it to how she thinks it should be. A pipe dream if you ask me, one we couldn’t afford.”

  “If my business wasn’t in dire straits, you know I’d help you out.” Ed clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Don’t, Ed,” Carl warned, concern spreading over his face as hurt and humiliation spread across his brother’s.

  “But I was careless! How else did that bloody plagiarist steal my designs! If I got my hands on him, it’s untold what I’d do. My reputation is ruined in the fashion world.”

  They’d been over the story so many times. Ed’s business had been pushed out of the market by a more affordable label, launching identical designs on to the catwalks. Within two seasons Ed’s sales went crashing through the floor. Unfamiliar with haute couture in Paris, Carl had gawped in disbelief when Ed shared the extent and speed of the damage. Maintaining the design house along with meeting a minimal payment to outstanding creditors had quickly drained Ed’s limited funds, with no sign of any sales income for quite some time. Living in the belief that Carl still had an income from the family vineyard in France, he’d asked Carl to top up the monthly lodgement so as at least to keep his company afloat.

  Ed closed his eyes a moment, focusing his concentration on the sharp pain slicing through his body. “At least my life assurance policy will clear the debts when I’m gone.” He attempted a laugh, his face contorting as another sharp stab gripped his body. “About the only thing I’ll leave behind.” He looked apologetically at his brother as though he were letting him down.

  “I’d rather have you here for as long as possible.” Carl struggled to steady his voice. “We both would.”

  They finished the game in relative silence, then a victorious Ed leaned his head back on the chair and repeated his request.

  “Send Beth to see me. I’d like to have a chat with her alone.” He opened his eyes again, daring his brother to defy him.

  “I’ll slip away now,” said Carl, not committing to his wife’s visit. “Back in a day or so.”

  “I’ll expect her then. Make sure you ask her – if she doesn’t show up, I’ll ring her myself. It’s not as if I can hang around waiting!”

  Ed’s words followed Carl into the quiet corridor, echoing in his ears and festering in his heart long after the door had snapped shut behind him.

  Chapter 13

  Greeted by the aroma of hot sausage rolls and pastries in the supermarket on Schull’s main street, Kieran followed the heavenly scent to the hot counter.

  “A couple of sausage rolls and maybe one of those bacon and cheese thingies . . . oh, I’ll have a hash brown too, please.”

  “Sausage rolls are four for a euro. Will I give you four?”

  “May as well,” Kieran smiled, his stomach already growling, the breakfast cereal he’d had earlier having failed to satisfy his appetite. He’d eaten at his parents’ home on occasion over the past few days but the strained atmosphere had ruined his appetite and made his mother’s fine cooking less palatable. Older and wiser supposedly – him and them – yet nothing much else had changed in the Ballydehob house from what he could see: his parents sniping at each other, pretending a normal relationship while avoiding spending much time together, the things he’d put to the back of his mind during his travels. Nothing to do with me anyway, he’d decided, as he’d repacked the few bags he’d brought home with him and asked his father to drop him to Number 5. Making Schull his home for now would allow him to be his own boss, as well as affording him the opportunity of some time to think in peace.

  Earlier that morning, he’d spotted Jess hanging washing on the line. It was his first glimpse of her since her peculiar disappearing act from the doorstep. He hadn’t liked to approach unannounced, preferring if their next meeting was initiated by her. He was looking forward to catching up with her again. The vibe between them had been good. He wouldn’t rush her – he had the time to wait.

  “I’ll have a cup of tea to go as well,” he said to the attractive assistant, taking the paper bag she passed across the glass counter and grabbing a few sachets of salt from the basket.

  “The drinks are self-service.” She pointed. “Just over there.”

  Watching the waves crashing on the rocks a short while later, he munched on the sausage rolls, flicking the flaking pastry from his jeans and taking in his surroundings. The footpath extending along the cliff edge was another welcome improvement and no doubt the numerous sets of steps to the waterside attracted more families these days. Biting into the cheese and ham jambon, he recalled a different time where he and his buddies jumped from the cliff edge onto the rocks, tossing their shoes down first and leaping barefoot – just for the hell of it. His face breaking into a smile, he was sorely tempted to untie his laces and repeat the teenage habit, convinced he’d get the same adrenalin rush even after all these years.

  The soles of his feet were hardened from hours on the stony surfaces and rough sand back then. Summers were about messing on
the beach, in and out of the water, swimming, canoeing and rowing until the sun set and it was impossible to see. Their days regularly ended with a bonfire, masses of toasted (or burnt) food and a few cans of the cheapest beer they could get their hands on.

  Adults shouted at them to keep the noise down but seldom interrupted apart from that, none interested in scrambling down the uneven surface to reinforce their orders. The tiny beaches amidst the rocks were private havens for adventurous teens. There were no wetsuits, no safety areas, just the heavenly experience of freedom. And by some mysterious miracle, they had escaped serious accident, with grazes and cuts being the extent of their injuries.

  As well as the beginning of his love affair with the water, Schull filled Kieran with a desire to avoid restriction. So many nights he’d remained on the beach long after the others had stumbled home, lying on his back – mellow from the effects of alcohol – as he stared at the inky sky and watched the stars and the moon slide in and out behind clouds. This was a custom he enjoyed many times in the years that followed, lying on some of the world’s most magnificent beaches and staring overhead at the activity in the sky.

  A sudden disturbance behind him brought him back to the present. He swallowed the last of his food, glanced at his watch and smiled. Break time at school – no other sound could equate to that of dozens of excited children. He looked behind him, taking in the familiar sight. A different generation with a similar agenda to those that came before.