Cass nodded, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking or feeling, but he needed to say this and she needed to hear it.
“We’ve sent her to counsellors and the local doctor prescribed anti-depressants, but nothing seemed to work. She got it into her head last year that if she could meet the family of the donor, maybe they would give her their blessing. I think she was afraid that you would all hate her. And then in some way, she thought if she met you, she could make peace with it all.”
“How did you find me?” Cass asked pushing her hair back off her face.
“I did something I’m not proud of, I have a client who owns a medical facility in Newcastle. They have dealings with the lung bank there. I got some information out of him that allowed me to follow the trail that led back to your family. When I found out that you lived in London, I chose to come to you first, with the intention of asking you to meet with Aoife. That day, the day we met, I was on my way to see you. You came over to the car and I lost my nerve. I wanted to get to know you. I felt something. Something I never expected to feel. I don’t know if you believe in love at first sight, Cass. Jesus, I didn’t think I believed in it myself, but when I saw you something inside you called out to me. Then I spent time with you and I couldn’t say it. I should have told you from the start. I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry, you deserved better.”
“Thank you. Thank you for telling me, Rory. I could kill you for what you did. But, I understand why you did it. I’m glad I came to meet your family and Aoife too. She’s a lovely girl, gentle and kind.”
“Yeah one quiet sister and one lunatic.”
As if on cue Annie came up the stairs.
“Hey, lovebirds, come on. I’ve just pulled a calf out of a cow’s vagina. I’m starvin’ and we have a table, let’s go!” Cass laughed and Rory frowned.
“Jesus Annie, we could do without the graphic details. Be right down.”
Annie stuck her tongue out at Rory and ran back down the stairs.
“Cass, I know I can’t expect you just to forgive what I did. It was intrusive, cruel and stupid. But maybe you could give me a chance. Spend some time with me, with us. And then decide if you want to walk away. I promise I won’t follow you. But, I need you to know that I love you. I am completely and utterly in love with you and I will do anything to keep you.”
Cass nodded. It was all she could offer at that moment.
(Cass)
It’s a long road that has no turning.
Irish proverb
“I’m lost,” Cass exclaimed as she watched the men tearing up and down the field with Hurley sticks and a ball, or sliotar as Rory had explained to her. They had taken her to a hurling match and as much as they tried to explain the rules, Cass was still at a loss to understand what was going on.
“It looks like a mixture of Quiddich, an egg and spoon race and hockey.”
“Ah my dear, dear British friend.” Rian shook his head.
“Hurling is the most skilful game on the planet. You Brits still haven’t cottoned on to it yet, it’s our national game. County against county, each man honoured to play for his team. None of these men get paid a wage for it, they play for the love of the game and the glory of their community.”
“And which ones are we?” Cass was still trying to get a handle on the game and grimaced as one player got a bloody mouth for his efforts.
“We are the saffron and blue players and the opposition are Kilkenny, they are black and amber. Both teams are exceptional, but of course Clare are the better team.”
“Why is the goalkeeper not able to stop them going over the top bar?”
“That’s the points bar, it’s just a way of catching up for the teams, a goal is worth three points, over the bar one point.”
“Come on Jimmy, hit the damn ball, you feckin' eejit!! Oh my nerves will never last!”
Cass turned to look in the direction of granny O’Malley, who was standing up and hitting the match program off Rian’s shoulder.
Annie laughed and nudged Cass in the ribs while stuffing her mouth with marshmallows.
“She hasn’t missed a game in forty seven years, the old goat. She wants her ashes spread across the field. Number one fan; did you ever see Kathy Bates in misery?”
Cass nodded looking at her with a grimace.
“That kinda sums her up nicely. She’d never break their ankles though, she’s more partial to a bit of back slapping and ear pulling,” Annie burst out laughing. Cass joined in, never completely sure if Annie was joking or serious.
“Although to be fair to her, she does supply the local under 14’s with sandwiches and tea and washes the kits after a match too. She’s the most dedicated supporter they have. They’d be less of a team without her.”
As if on cue, granny O’Malley, smiled over at them. Annie ducked her head back at her grandmother fondly. A dark shadow passed in front of them.
“Hello Annie.”
Cass looked up and blocked the winter sun with her hand, a tall brown-haired man with soft blue eyes passed by them.
“Seamus.” Annie kept her eyes in front of her and pursed her lips.
Cass looked at her, the question hanging on her lips.
“Don’t ask,” Annie said, before stuffing more marshmallows into her mouth.
“Sworn enemies,” Rian whispered into her ear, raising his eyebrows comically.
Cass looked behind her and watched as Seamus looked back at Annie longingly, then ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.
No hatred on his part then. Damn, but these O’Malley’s were a strange bunch.
She jumped in fright as their entire side of the stadium groaned while the opposite side jumped to their feet and shouted “Goal!” in unison.
“Jesus, come on lads. Get stuck in!” shouted Gearóid.
“You dirty bastard Eoghan O’Shea,” Granny O’Malley, shouted.
“He took the legs out from under poor Jamsie McCarthy! Did you see that Gearóid, never seen the like of it. Now, if that doesn’t deserve a red card, then the pope’s not a catholic!” Gearóid nodded.
“I did mammy. I did,” he looked at Cass and rose his eyes upward his, eyes twinkling.
A priest in front of them turned around and nodded towards Mrs O’Malley.
“Wasn’t it awful father O’Connor? May the good Lord forgive him?”
“Yes. Mrs O’Malley. T’was a shockin’ foul altogether. Will I be seeing you at confessions on Tuesday night madam?”
“You will indeed father and I’ll be putting my donation in the plate, as I do every week,” she nodded primly and turned back to the game.
“Come on O’ Neill, you little bollix. You wouldn’t score in a brothel!”
Rory looked at Cass and whispered, “She’s passionate about the game.”
Cass nodded laughing. “Yeah, I heard.”
Twenty minutes, two goals and three points later Cass was shouting at the players along with the rest of the family. The game moved at a lightning speed and when a player got a slap of a Hurley, they just got up and shrugged it off. A real Irish man’s game thought Cass smiling. Rory grabbed her hand and shielded her as she was jostled around the place when the stadium began to empty.
They managed to make it back to the cars and Cass felt tears threaten to fall as she watched granny O’Malley drape the Clare flags from the back window.
What the hell is wrong with me? A nagging voice started in her head. You are starting to fall in love with this family. So? So, it hurts to feel again. It hurts to put yourself in a position where you could be hurt again.
Cass was clever enough to psychoanalysis herself, against her mothers’ orders of course. Her mother would say that self-analysis was the root of many a misdiagnoses. Cass sat in the back holding Rory’s hand and stared out of the window as the now familiar sights of the castle and the river O’Garney as they passed by. She looked at the crowd drinking on the bench seats outside Nellies pub. American tour buses parked arou
nd the woollen mills, eager to spend money on trinkets and souvenirs. Ready to walk to the folk park entrance, to step back in time into their past, their heritage, where the small replica cottages of their ancestral homes held stories of lives gone by and the hardships suffered.
Other cars reached the road at the same time and granny O’Malley reached over to Gearóid's drivers’ side and beeped the horn.
“What is she doing?”
“It’s tradition,” Rory said placing her hand to his lips.
“We are letting everyone know that we won.”
(Cass)
May you live as long as you want,
And never want, as long as you live.
Irish proverb
Back at the O’Malley’s, the house was bustling in preparation for the Christmas eve dinner. Christmas eve was always a big event in the O’Malley household like most houses in rural Ireland. The whole family joined in, peeling the spuds were left to Gearóid and the granny. Louisa was preparing vegetables. Annie was making a tart for dessert with the twins helping her to roll the pastry, moaning all the time about the hardness of the apples. Darragh was gone for the day, off to help a farmer who needed help moving some cattle.
Louisa put her hand on Cass’ shoulder.
“Would you mind going out to the horse barn Cass and seeing if Aoife’s around? Tell her dinners in an hour, thanks lovey.”
Cass pulled on a pair of red wellies that Annie had loaned her and moved outside pulling her coat up around her neck to fight off the cold. Her breath came out in white plumes and she pulled her hat down further over her ears. Rory came into the kitchen and looked around.
“Where’s Cass gone?”
“I sent her out to talk to Aoife.”
“I’ll go out to them.”
“You won’t. Sit yourself down Ror, let them talk it out.”
“But-”
“No buts,” Louisa said.
“They need to talk and you need to let them at it. Here, shell these peas, keep your hands busy for a while.” Louisa plonked a big bucket of peas in front of him. She stroked his hair gently.
“There are some things out of your control, son. Cass is a capable girl. You need to let the woman breathe a bit. Stop smothering her. She’s well able to handle it and she needs this. Aoife too.”
Rory nodded and sat down in front of the big wooden table. Mama was right, it was time to let Cass and Aoife find their own way.
“Anyway we’ve visitors coming,” Louisa winked at him.
“What visitors?”
“You’ll see. They’ll be here soon. Go on and go with dad. He’ll show you.”
Cass opened the barn door and moved silently through the stables. Each one was occupied by a horse eager for affection and a rub on its nose.
She stopped at the last one and saw Aoife gently combing the mane of a beautiful small white pony.
“This is misty,” Aoife said not turning around.
“She’s beautiful, is she yours?” said Cass.
“She is and a more beautiful and gentle girl you couldn’t meet. She’s not for riding anymore, she’s twenty two now. She was my best friend as a child. My dad bought her for me at the sales when I was little. She was only a baby then, just a little foal.”
“We used to ride too, at home in Devon, Harry and I. Although, he was always better than me. Then again Harry was better than me at most things. Being an annoying brother, he was super good at that.” Cass smiled at the memory.
Aoife kept her eyes on Misty’s mane. “Do you hate me Cass?”
“Heavens, no. Why would I hate you, Aoife?”
“I hate myself sometimes, you know. I’d understand if you feel the same. I prayed for it, do you know that? I prayed that someone who died would be my match. I asked God to give me new lungs. I never even thought about who it would be. That they were a real person, with a family and friends who loved them. That they had to really die, for me to live. How selfish is that?”
Cass stood awkwardly as tears fell from Aoife's face and splashed on the ground rising as white steam. She moved forward and put her hand on Aoife’s back.
“Hey, hey. Don’t cry Aoife.”
“Tell me about Harry, Cass. Tell me about what happened. Please.”
Cass sat on an old crate beside her and picked up part of the bridle and the saddle soap and started to clean it with a wet sponge.
“The two boys had stood no chance. A drunk driver had come out of nowhere, speeding, on the wrong side of the road. Matt, Harry’s friend was killed instantly. Harry, as stubborn and hard-headed as always, lingered on for two weeks, before we made the decision to let him go.”
Cass watched Aoife, she had her eyes closed. She watched as she digested the words little frown lines appearing on her forehead.
“We practically lived in the hospital during those two weeks and sat by his bedside. We talked to him and amongst ourselves, about everything, you know?
Stupid things, Christmas’ and birthdays we had shared. Little snapshots of everything that was important to us. I lay beside him on the bed and watched ‘Pretty in Pink’ and ‘The Breakfast Club.’ Harry loved 80’s movies. We used to watch them all the time together, he loved Molly Ringwald.” Cass smiled at the memory.
“Oh we fought for him, we fought the doctors tooth and nail. Our Harry was a fighter Aoife, always. This time, we had to accept that he wasn’t strong enough to win.”
Cass stopped for a second not able to continue. She felt Aoife squeeze her hand and nodded at her smiling and crying at the same time.
“On the last day, each of us said our goodbyes one by one. I remember closing my eyes outside the room. I heard my dad’s low voice mumble and then it changed to this high pitched pleading, noises I didn’t recognise. He was broken. We all were. I didn’t mind though. I liked feeling broken. At least it was feeling something. That way I knew I was still alive. Each person plays a different role in the lives of each other. It only becomes clear as we lose them, what they mean and how much we loved them and felt them and breathed them. I didn’t think I could live without Harry.
And then it was my turn. To let him go. And now, when I think back, I wish that I could have said so much more. I remember I touched his hair and smelled his skin. I sat there and cried, holding his still warm hand. I took my phone and took a picture of his hand, a picture of the lines across his palm. I kissed his face and wiped off my tears as they splashed into his closed mouth. I wanted to open his windows and scream to the world to do something. This person, this great person was leaving, dying and nothing was changing. The sky should have been falling. You know?” Aoife nodded at her.
Cass stood up and moved away from Aoife. She felt so angry and didn’t want Aoife to see or feel it and take it on board. It was not anger at her. Just at life in general and death and every shitty thing that went with both.
“I hated that day, every second of it. I wanted a fucking hurricane to lift us all up in the air and smash us against something. Instead, on that day, the day the machines stopped beeping and breathing for him, it was calm. Just so still.
The sun was shining on one of those weirdly sunny spring days that are so random they are worth mentioning. People were mulling around in shorts and tee shirts soaking up the sun and generally being disgustingly happy. The room was stuffy and the windows were closed. I remember opening them just to take a breath that wasn’t stale or filled with death.
I could hear children outside running around and stood for a few minutes watching these little children, in the playground of the school across the road from the hospital. I’m ashamed to say it Aoife, but I hated them. At the moment, I hated their joy and their lives and the light that shone in their little hearts. Free from the hurt and pain that was consuming me only a stones throw away from them.
I was tired of not sleeping and waiting for any change, any movement or flicker. Just one small sign that Harry was still inside, though we knew he wasn’t.”
Aoife h
eld her hand and rubbed it against her face softly. Cass wiped her eyes and let out a long breath.
“There was nothing there. Harry had already gone; he was just a shell of what he had been. His body like an empty conch shell, with just the whisper of its occupant left as a distant memory and a cruel reminder of what once was. Aoife, Harry was the most amazing person I have ever known. He loved life and lived every day to the fullest. He would have been so happy to know that he gave you back your life. He would have felt nothing but love for you Aoife. And he would have respected you too. You have been through more in your life that most of us will ever know.”
Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance Page 18