by Brothers
‘I don’t know how I am, Lucas, I haven’t the strength to think,’ she said, waning by the second.
He could tell that she was still unsure of how she felt about him being here and the reason why he decided to come. It would take her some time to trust him again, he accepted. ‘Why don’t you jump in the shower, I’ll have this ready for you when you come back down,’ he said; being as supportive as he could was the only option he had until he could tell her the truth. She gave him a hug, a promising start, he thought, and went for a shower.
The smell of toast wafted up the stairs and mingled with the fresh lemon scents of her body wash, a pang of hunger shot through her and she waded down the stairs in her bare feet, tying her dressing gown around her waist. It was already one a.m.
‘I’ve locked the back door.’ Lucas said handing her a plate of toast. He had buttered it straight away so that the butter would melt, just like how she liked it. In the twenty minutes she had been upstairs he had cleaned away the kitchen, figured out how to lock the back door and made her toast. He’d had a chance to take in a few of the family photographs that were dotted around the walls and sideboards. She looked exactly the same in the old photos as she did now, fresh-faced with long hair tumbling down her shoulders. If only he could make her smile like she did in the pictures.
‘Thanks’, Lizzie nibbled on the first slice of toast, as hungry as she had felt, she hadn’t the stomach to finish it.
‘What time do you want to go back in for?’ Lucas held his phone to set his alarm.
‘Six I suppose, when they are doing their rounds.’
‘Perfect, I’ll set the alarm for five, so.’ He swiped his alarm app and placed his phone back in his pocket. ‘And where…’ he dropped his eyes awkwardly. It was unreal to be so close to someone one minute and then to have to ask permission for being with them the next. ‘Where do you want me to sleep?’
She closed her eyes momentarily, it was strange to be in this position with him.
‘I would like to, sleep with you,’ Lucas said awkwardly. ‘I mean…’ He scrunched up his face as soon as the words came out. ‘Sleep in the same bed as you, hold you, in case you want me, is what I mean, Jesus, this would be funny, if it wasn’t so sad, Lizzie.’
‘Just turn off the lights, Lucas,’ Lizzie grabbed her phone and charger and headed up the stairs. Lucas flicked the switch and followed her. She opened the door to her bedroom and turned to allow Lucas in. It was so personal to have him in her house and now that he was standing in her childhood bedroom, decorated with fluffy clouds and pink love hearts, it felt as though she was revealing a part of her soul.
He stepped inside in his stocking feet, his shoes already abandoned at the bottom of the stairs. He took his phone from his pocket and placed it on the bedside table beside the softly lit lamp and unbuckled his belt, exactly as she had seen him do it every night she had spent with him in London. Next, he unbuttoned his jeans, shook them off and laid them over the chair, he sat in his T-shirt and boxers at the edge of the bed.
Lizzie hung her dressing gown on the back of her door and as she reached up for the hook, the hem of her nightshirt rose just enough to expose to rim of her bum, Lucas pretended he didn’t notice.
‘You ready?’ he asked, his hand poised over the lamp.
‘Yes,’ she answered, fixing her pillows on her side as he flicked the switch.
He reached over for her in the darkness and pulled her close to him. He could feel the tension briefly leave as she relaxed her body against his. Pushing back her hair from her face, he wiped the wetness from her cheeks. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you,’ he whispered as her body squirmed in despair, sobbing for her mum. His heart broke for her. He held her tight until her breathing slowed and her body softened.
Chapter 37
Monday Morning – 2016
Michael sat soundlessly for hours on his hotel room chair; he had no idea what he should do next. Marie had suggested driving to the hospital but Michael wanted more time to think and that was what he had been doing ever since, as she slept on the bed beside him. He replayed the letter, word for word, in his head, a world of secrets that he couldn’t begin to understand. Secrets, so profound that his own mother, Mary McGrath was unable to tell him. He wondered how she felt for keeping the secret and what had made her break her promise in the end. And then there was Rose, a child herself when she had him, an angelic little girl, his mother had said, only three years older than his own handsome Jack was now. What had gone through her head, when at fourteen years of age, she had to leave him behind? What had been the danger that she had to save him from? What had damaged her beautiful soul? His mother’s words swam around his mind creating more questions than answers and perhaps the most pressing of them all, if Rose had been his mother, who was his father? And then there was Lizzie, Rose’s daughter, a sister, something he had never had, and an uncle, or two if he counted Robert, that he would have to welcome into his life. He wondered how George would feel when he told him.
He watched soundlessly as the dawn tiptoed over the Dublin city scene, extinguishing the street light chains and, as if by magic, turning the navy blue shadows in to brighter shades of grey. It was already four a.m. He lay back down beside Marie and waited for the morning to come. He would go to the hospital for seven, he decided, it was the right thing to do. He closed his eyes, finally content with his decision and drifted off to sleep.
*
The silence of the house began to lull Lucas asleep as he held Lizzie close. Gentle snores escaped as his sleep became deeper.
Lizzie moved, her sleep disrupted by the unfamiliar sound. Carefully, she turned and moved his arm, it didn’t wake him. Reaching past the lamp, she located her phone. Pressing once, she checked the screen, it was four a.m. She couldn’t believe she had already slept for three hours. Stealthily she slipped out of bed, watching the rhythm of Lucas’s breathing as she tiptoed around the bed and crept across the landing to her mother’s room.
Small warm tears trickled down her eyes as she sat on her mother’s bed. She wondered had her mother been lonely here since her father had died. The room was neat and fresh as she always remembered her mother’s room to be, but the house seemed so silent and eerie to her now. She opened a door to a wardrobe, noticing her late father’s suits still hanging. Sadness washed over her. Time and tide wait for no man, she could hear him say. She climbed under the covers on her mother’s side and lay back on her pillows. She could smell her perfume.
*
Tim had sat like a sentry beside his sister’s bed throughout the night. He watched the team as they glided with certainty around Rose. Bottles were hung and needles were placed, monitors binged and motors hummed. Muffled moans from other beds drifted through the curtains and hushed, lonely family members tiptoed to their loved ones’ bedsides. Family beds lay empty as the mums, dads, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sons and daughters sat with trepidation, hoping for a miracle, perched on the hard grey chairs reaching for a lifeless hand. Afraid to leave in case their loved one woke, or worse still, in case they didn’t.
‘Tim, we need to change the picc line. We’ll call you when you can come back in.’ The nurse was small and young and purposeful as she laid out her sterile tray on Rose’s statue-like legs.
‘Okay,’ he mouthed, and left the room.
Robert dozed on the family room chair, waiting for Tim to return.
‘Any change?’ he sat up straight as Tim came in, his voice hoarse with tiredness.
‘I can’t see any fight in her.’ Tim sat with his head in his hands. ‘It’s just not like her to be so helpless.’ For the first time since he arrived in the hospital, tears dropped unashamedly from Tim’s eyes.
‘They have her sedated, Tim, she’s not going to be able to fight through that. The doctors said they needed her as still as possible. Its early days.’ Robert himself was worried, but reassured him none the less.
‘You know, there’s something on my mind.’ Tim sat acros
s from Robert and leaned forward on his knees. Reaching inside his jacket pocket that Robert had hung on the back of the chair he pulled out his phone and placed it facing up on the table. He padded his chest for his glasses and found them on his head. Taking a deep breath, he explained to Robert why he had an important phone call to make to Michael. He detailed the hidden history of Fitzpatrick Farm for Robert; everything from his mother’ reclusiveness to his father’s violence and his uncle’s depravity. He told Robert of how he tried to protect his little sister by giving her a whistle so that she would always be able to call him. He explained how they left for Dublin and, because of the promise they made, never looked back. He knew that Robert had figured out some of it, but he needed to say it all, out loud.
Robert sat quietly, letting Tim talk, it had been an age bottled up inside of the man he loved, relieved that he finally felt able to speak about it. Most of it he had suspected, but the harrowing detail had left him dismayed.
‘I think it’s the right thing to do, Michael needs to be here.’ Robert was sure. The image of the whistle that Tim had given to Rose played over and over in Robert’s mind.
‘My only concern then is for Lizzie and how she might take the news,’ Tim said.
‘You and your sister, as much as I love you both,’ Robert widened his eyes in a reprimanding way, ‘have underestimated what that woman, and yes, I mean woman,’ Robert was only too aware that Tim still thought of her as a teenager, ‘is capable of, she is strong, and resilient and capable, just like her mother; she is more than able to handle this.’
‘Okay, I hear you.’ Tim rubbed his face in his hands. ‘I’ll ring Michael then as soon as it’s a decent hour.’
‘But before you do,’ Robert picked up Tim’s phone, ‘I have been fielding some of your calls.’ He held Tim’s phone in his hand. ‘Detective Kelly was looking for you, a few times yesterday.’ Robert had mulled over when would have been best to tell Tim, but it hadn’t been a priority, till now. ‘He wanted you to come in voluntarily to Kilkenny Garda station.’ He paused. ‘He thinks that if he has to arrest you, that it would look better for you that you came in voluntarily.’
‘Fucking hell.’ Tim’s shoulders dropped; this was all he needed. ‘So they are going to pin it on me.’ The murder investigation, the interviews in Harcourt Street and the past week’s events were a vague and insignificant memory for him. ‘Well, they’ll have to drag me out of here, because I’m not leaving here without Rose, simple as.’
‘That’s what I said to him,’ Robert answered. ‘And in fairness, he sort of accepted it, I told him where we were and that if he wanted to speak to you it would have to be in the Intensive Care Unit of Beaumont Hospital. By the tone of him, I’d say he might just work with you and give you a little time, but I don’t know that for sure.’
‘So be it,’ Tim said. There was nothing more he could do.
‘For what it’s worth, Tim,’ Robert reached across and held Tim’s hands, ‘What you did…’ Robert said. ‘What you did for Rose…’ Robert blinked, stemming the tears that were queuing up to fall down his face. ‘For Rose, for yourself, what you did was nothing short of heroic, no two ways about it.’ He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. ‘You are a fucking hero,’ Robert’s voice trailed off, the lump in his throat making it impossible to continue.
Tim wiped his own tears from his face. He felt a weight lift off him as Robert took half of his load. ‘I just wish she had the whistle now, so she could call me, and I’d come running, faster than ever.’ Fat bulbous tears landed on the ground in front of him as his mind floated back to when they were young. ‘I just want to help her, I wish it was me in there.’
‘You can’t think like that Tim’, Robert sighed.
‘Look, you need to ring Michael,’ Robert glanced at the clock, it was nearly five. ‘I think Lizzie should be here when Michael arrives, so I’ll ring her and check to see what time she is coming in for, it’s better that they are both here with Rose.’ He paused. ‘Just in case,’ he added.
‘Okay then, I’m going to walk outside, get a blast of fresh air and ring him.’ Tim said as he headed outside.
‘I’ll ring Lizzie.’ Robert wasted no time and dialled her number. ‘Lizzie, love, everything’s okay,’ Robert was quick to ease her fears.
‘Oh, okay.’
‘I was just checking on you; did you get any sleep?’
‘I did, about three hours, I’d say, did Tim sleep?’
‘Not a wink, but we knew he wouldn’t.’ The familiarity between them was comforting to them both. ‘What time do you think you’ll come in for?’
‘I’m going to leave here in the next half hour.’
‘Perfect, tell me this much, did your mother ever mention anything about a whistle to you?’ Robert was nothing if not sentimental, he thought that Tim could do with a token of their past, something to focus on.
‘Yeah, there’s something familiar about that all right, was something to do with that if she needed Tim on the farm, she was to blow the whistle?’ Her memory of the story was buried deep. ‘God, I haven’t heard that story in years.’
‘Would you be able to find it, do you think?’ Robert was hopeful. ‘It’s just, Tim has mentioned it and I thought it might be nice for him to hold onto it for a while.’
‘I’ll have a look, knowing Mum she has it safely categorised, boxed and colour-coded.’ They both giggled. The comfort they both felt in their familiarity was short lived as they both wondered would Rose ever be able to colour code or categorise again.
‘Thanks, love, see you in a while,’ Robert said and ended the call.
Lizzie pushed back the covers and stretched her legs, she wasn’t convinced that she would find the whistle with so little time to dedicate to the search, but she decided she would give a cursory look anyhow. She leafed gently through the bedroom drawers and ran her hand over shelves, but nothing jumped out. It was then that she remembered the drawers in the console table in the hall, it was there that all sorts of treasures were hoarded over the years. Quietly, she made her way downstairs and began to root for the whistle inside.
Lucas rubbed his eyes and reached for his phone, he could tell by the light diffusing through the curtains that it was morning. He reached across to look for Lizzie, but she was gone. ‘Lizzie,’ he said out loud, pulling himself upright; she wasn’t in the room.
‘Unbelievable,’ Lizzie said as she reached past a bundle of envelopes and pulled out the whistle she was looking for. To Lizzie and Matt, the drawer had been a junk drawer; to Rose it was a treasure trove. She pulled the whistle, bringing with it a bundle of envelopes that tumbled out and fell to the floor. As she bent to pick them up, she heard Lucas’s footsteps upstairs.
‘Morning.’ Lucas arrived on the landing, pulling his T-shirt over his head. ‘Why didn’t you wake me? Are you awake long?’
‘No, just an hour I’d say.’ She placed the whistle in her dressing gown pocket and straightened up the envelopes and placed them distractedly back on the table. ‘I was going to head to the hospital in the next half hour, if that suits, or you can stay here, you don’t have to come.’
‘Of course I want to come, I’ll drive you,’ Lucas said. ‘Can I take a shower?’
‘Oh sure, work away. I’m coming up now to get dressed.’
‘Is that a whistle I saw you put in your pocket, or…’ He raised his eyebrows and smiled. ‘Or are you just happy to see me?’
She always enjoyed his humour. ‘Very funny,’ Lizzie said, allowing herself a small but significant smile. ‘It’s a long story.’ She pulled the whistle out of her pocket and dangled it in front of her on its string. ‘I’ve to bring it into Tim. That drawer,’ Lizzie was already on the third step on her way back upstairs when she turned to look at the table, it was then that she noted her name on the top envelope on the pile, ‘is like Mary Poppins’ bag, the deeper you dig in the more you will find.’ She stepped back down into the hall and reached for the letters and carried t
hem upstairs. ‘That’s weird.’ She was speaking to Lucas as he stripped naked in front of her with the bathroom door half open.
‘How does this work.’ He reached for the silver dial and pulled the shower lever and the water began to flow. ‘Never mind, I think I have it,’ he called to her as she made her way past the bathroom door and into her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed studying her name written by her mother’s hand.
‘What’s weird?’ he called, the water temperature finally regulating.
‘It’s my mum’s handwriting, and there’s an envelope addressed to me,’ she said loudly so he could hear her.
Lucas rinsed the shampoo from his hair and the suds from his body. He dried himself with the towel she had used only a couple of hours before.
‘Open it,’ he said, walking into her room.
‘What on earth?’ Lizzie couldn’t believe what she was seeing as she pulled the crisp white printed paper from the envelope. ‘There are three others here too, one addressed to a Michael,’ she looked perplexed at the name, ‘and another addressed to Detective Kelly.’ She showed Lucas the envelopes in her hand. ‘And one for Tim. What on earth?’ she said, anxious to find out what was inside of them.
Lucas wrapped his towel around his waist and sat beside her. He had a feeling that the information that was in the letters was the same as the information he was guarding from her.
Her heart began to race, her breathing became shallow. ‘I can’t read it. You read it to me.’
Lucas could feel Lizzie’s small body tremble beside him. He took the letter from her shaking hands and started to read the letter out loud.
‘Dearest Lizzie,’ Lucas cleared his throat and continued. ‘I have loved and have been loved beyond my wildest dreams, for this I am eternally humble and blessed. Know that I am happy and always have been, I will always hold your heart in my hands, until you find a love that is capable of holding it as softly as I do. When you do find the love of your life, which I know you will, I will hold both your hearts together’. Lucas paused, grasped her shaking hands and held them both tightly in his.