Apart from the three of them, there was hardly anyone else there, just two other patients. One was a big, busty older lady called Bunny, who hugged Melissa tight and smelt like fags.
‘Your mam is going to be fine, love, don’t you worry a bit,’ she’d said to Melissa, almost smothering her with the hug she was giving. ‘She’ll be home in no time, good as new, wait and see. She just needs a bit of time out to herself, that’s all.’
‘I know,’ Melissa said quietly.
‘So you behave yourself while she’s in here,’ Bunny cautioned, ‘and maybe next time you’re coming, you might bring me a pack of Marlboro Lights, would you, love? There’s a good girl.’
There was another lady called Emily there too, tall and skinny with purple-y streaks in her hair. She held Melissa’s hand and told her that she knew exactly how she felt. Melissa thought she was telling fibs, though. Unless you had a seventeen-year-old sister who died, how could you possibly know how it felt? She knew Emily meant well, though, so she just smiled back at her and said nothing.
‘The first year is the worst,’ Emily told her, ‘but from here on in, it will get easier. Trust me.’
Her mum still wasn’t feeling well enough for them to go out afterwards, but that was cool, Melissa thought. It would have felt wrong for the three of them to go for dinner in a fancy restaurant somewhere, like you did after a confirmation or a birthday. It was a fine, sunny spring evening, so instead the three of them strolled outside the hospital around the park grounds that surrounded St Michael’s. They found a quiet spot, as Melissa sat on the grass in between her parents, just like she used to when she was little.
And between her mum, her dad and herself, they remembered Ella. Their lovely, precious, complex, feisty Ella, who they had to say goodbye to exactly a year ago to the day.
‘The time she hacked all her hair off with scissors, because she wanted to look like Katy Perry . . . do you remember?’ her mum blurted, out of nowhere.
‘Or that time on her twelfth birthday, how she gave away all her presents to the Oxfam shop in town, because she said she couldn’t enjoy nice things when kids in Africa had nothing?’
‘Or when Mr Mendoza from across the square started dressing up as a woman, and all the kids were laughing at him, do you remember? How Ella gave out yards to them for being so intolerant, then organised a Primrose Square Pride Day?’
‘Not only that,’ Susan said with a small smile, ‘but she gave Mr Mendoza a bagload of my clothes to wear. I hadn’t a clue till I met him in Tesco’s one day and he was dressed in my good Karen Millen suit!’
Then silence fell, but it was an easy, peaceful silence. Melissa was looking out at the view over the Dublin Mountains, when she felt her mum’s arms slip around her shoulders.
‘My baby,’ Susan said, squeezing her. ‘My amazing little Melissa. You’ve been through even more than the rest of us, because on top of everything, you were so worried about me. How, my little pet,’ she said warmly, ‘will I ever begin to make it up to you?’
Then her dad spoke. ‘You’re the best daughter anyone could ask for, Melissa,’ he said, sitting forwards to look her in the eye. ‘Do you know that? You make me proud every single day. And from now on, I promise you, things are going to get better for you. Your mum and I have so much making up to do with you and that starts right now.’
‘Do you remember that song Ella used to love?’ Susan asked. ‘It went like this: On the day that you were born the sun came out to shine . . . ’
Melissa’s dad nodded and smiled and joined in the song.
‘But for your Daddy and Mum, you’re the sun, moon and the stars too . . . ’
She and her dad were holding hands as they both hummed the tune, Melissa noticed. Which made her feel good. So she smiled along with her parents. Smiled and sometimes laughed, letting the sadness roll in too. And then she thought back to what that woman Emily had told her.
Maybe Emily is right, Melissa thought. Maybe from here on in, it can only get better.
Jayne
19 PRIMROSE SQUARE
Jayne pulled on her walking shoes and a warm fleece, and made her way into Primrose Square to her favourite bench. It was in just about the quietest part of the square, far away from all the traffic noise on Pearce Street, a place where the only sound you could hear was birdsong and the happy giggling of a few kids in the playground area, not far from where she sat.
She often came out there, particularly when she needed a bit of ‘time out from the world’, as Eric would say. Just a snatched half hour here, on this gorgeously sunny bench surrounded by beech trees and magnolia, was always enough to recharge her batteries, so she could cope with the stresses and strains of whatever was going on in her life.
When Tom first got sick and went from bad to worse so shockingly fast, Jayne would often slip quietly over onto the square by herself, to breathe deep, fresh air until she ‘regrouped’. Then and only then was she was able to face back into illness and chemo and the whole roundabout of carers who were in and out of the house non-stop, with news that was never, ever good.
Just listen to yourself, Jayne thought with a wry little smile. Did I really use the word ‘regroup’? Did I ever even know such a word existed till Eric Butler first strolled into my life?
It wasn’t Eric who was on her mind just then, though. In fact, Eric was such a support to her, she didn’t know how she’d ever managed without him. The two of them had spent the afternoon happily cooking and baking side by side, and Jayne almost burst with pride when Eric told her that the mousse she’d conjured up was ‘real restaurant quality. You’ve got a gift, Jayne, a real gift. I know what I’m talking about too – I started out grafting in restaurant kitchens. You gotta think about writing a cookbook some time in the future.’
She’d beamed delightedly back at him, as he helped her to clean up, marvelling at the deep feeling of peace and happiness she felt when it was just the two of them together, alone.
‘We make a good team,’ he’d said to her, handing her a mug of tea just the way she liked it, when their work was finally done. And Jayne could only agree. So why was it so hard for her family to be just a bit happy for her? Was she really asking for the sun, earth, moon and stars?
Jason, Irene and the twins had been nothing but vile to Eric from day one, and all she could do was be awed by his patience in the face of such unrelenting rudeness. To date, Eric had met every insult with a smile, and every jibe with nothing but tolerance and understanding.
The latest batch of trouble had started earlier that evening, when without so much as a phone call to warn her, Jason’s ice cream van had trundled onto the square and out he hopped with Holly and Molly in tow. With two big sulky faces plastered on them, like this was absolutely the last place either of the twins wanted to be.
‘Great news, Ma,’ Jason said cheerily, when she opened the front door to the three of them. ‘The girls are coming to stay with you for the night. Isn’t that a lovely surprise for you, now?’
He never even mentioned Eric’s name, which immediately alerted Jayne to the fact that something was up. She said nothing, though, and went to greet her two granddaughters with a big hug for each of them.
‘What’s your Wi-Fi password, Gran?’ Holly asked, barely looking up from her phone. ‘The signal is total crap.’
‘And is there anything to eat?’ said Molly, brushing past her and heading for the kitchen. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Go on inside, girls, and make yourselves at home,’ Jayne called back to them, ‘I just need to have a quick word with your dad.’
She stepped outside into the warm evening sunshine, taking care to close the door gently behind her, so she wouldn’t be overheard.
‘Now, Jason, love,’ she said, looking keenly at him. ‘I’m thrilled to see the twins, you know that, they’re welcome any time. But would you mind telling me what’s really going on here, please?’
She stopped herself from adding, ‘Could it possib
ly have something to do with the fact that I have a houseguest here, who you don’t really approve of?’
‘Nothing’s going on.’ Jason sniffed, looking anywhere except at her. A sure sign that he had a guilty conscience, Jayne knew of old. ‘Me and Irene just fancied a bit of a night out, that’s all.’
‘A night out?’ she said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Jason and Irene never went out, ever. It was something he was forever moaning about, the fact that he was so cash-strapped; even a Saturday night in his local was beyond him. ‘Oh really? Where to?’
‘Ehh . . . a show in town.’
‘A show?’ Jayne said, folding her arms, her suspicions well and truly roused by then. ‘Do you mean, as in an actual play, love? With actors in it?’
‘Ehh . . . yeah,’ Jason said, reddening a bit.
‘But Jason, love, you hate the theatre,’ she reminded him. ‘Remember when you and Irene went to New York for your honeymoon and she took you to see The Cherry Orchard on Broadway? You said it was nothing, only moany woman looking out windows whinging about Moscow, and that you’d rather stay home and watch paint dry in future. You swore blind you’d never go to a play again as long as you were alive.’
‘Ah yeah, well, you know yourself,’ Jason said shiftily. ‘A freebie is a freebie. Jaysus, is that the time?’ he stammered, already halfway down the steps in his haste to get away. ‘I better get going. And by the way, I’m assuming it’s okay to leave the girls here with you overnight? And that you’ll take them to school in the morning? Sure you already have Melissa Hayes staying with you anyway, so it’s hardly any extra trouble for you. Melissa is only a neighbour, after all, the twins are your own flesh and blood.’
Jayne didn’t have Melissa staying that night, as it happened, but she said nothing. More’s the pity, she thought ruefully, as Jason hopped up into his ice cream van and drove off with the tinkly music playing. For all that Melissa was three years younger than the twins, she could easily have taught them a thing or two about good manners.
*
The entire evening had been horrible, long and gruelling and awful, Jayne thought, sitting on her private little park bench and massaging out the knots of tension in her neck.
‘There’s nothing to do in this shithole,’ Molly had moaned. ‘There isn’t even Sky on the telly, which means I can’t watch the Kardashians tonight.’
‘You think that’s bad?’ Holly whinged. ‘How am I supposed to post on Intragram with no signal?’
‘What are you going to post anyway?’ Molly sniped back at her twin, oblivious to the fact that Jayne was just in the kitchen and could overhear every word. ‘How mind-numbingly bored off your head you are?’
‘Shh! She’ll hear you.’
God Almighty, Jayne thought, did the pair of them get away with this kind of behaviour at home? Did Jason and Irene actually tolerate all their rudeness?
‘This is all on purpose, you know,’ she whispered to Eric, closing the kitchen door for privacy. ‘Leaving the twins here is Jason and Irene’s not-so-subtle way of driving a wedge between you and me.’
She knew it without being told, but was determined not to let it get to her. After all, she thought ruefully, you can’t start imposing discipline on someone else’s kids, no matter how much you might want to.
Eric was over at the Aga, stirring the most delicious smelling sauce over a slow heat.
‘Hey, come on now, they’re your grandchildren.’ He smiled softly across the kitchen at her. ‘Family is real important to me and I only pray that they’ll all come to accept me, in time.’
‘Do you know something?’ Jayne said warmly. ‘You have the patience of a saint, you really do.’
‘Oh now, come on,’ Eric said, abandoning the pot and coming over to rub her shoulders. ‘Don’t stress it out; nothing is worth that. Remember that people who get under out skin in this life are really our teachers. We’re here to learn from them about coping with life’s challenges. In this case, how to be compassionate with teens, who are acting out a little. So let’s ask ourselves why they’re behaving this way and let’s help them work through it with kindness and understanding. Sound good to you?’
‘Sounds good.’ Jayne smiled, letting his strong, expert fingers massage their way into the knots at her neck and spine, marvelling at how wonderful it was to have a bit of physical contact with another human being, especially after all this time.
Not that there was much else going on physically between herself and Eric; he’d behaved like a perfect gentleman ever since he came to stay. His very first night there could have been so strange, she thought. After all, this was a man she’d never met before, sleeping just down the landing from her. But Eric was just such an easygoing houseguest, he’d made it all seem perfectly normal and natural. He was only delighted when she showed him into the tiny little box room that no one else wanted and claimed he’d had the best night’s sleep there he’d had in ages.
‘It’s that view over the square that makes that room real special,’ he’d told her the next morning over a healthy egg-white omelette breakfast. ‘Being so close to nature is magical. That’s rare in the big cities back home, you know.’
And apart from the odd, lovely, soothing shoulder massage, he’d never as much as attempted to lay a single finger on Jayne. Which was something she was grateful for, in a strange way. It had been so long for her – she hadn’t been intimate with poor old Tom since long before he’d first got sick. The thought of actually getting into bed with someone new was still a lot for her to get her head around. Maybe it would happen, she reasoned, and maybe it wouldn’t. Time would tell.
In the meantime, though, what she was really enjoying most with Eric was the companionship side of things. The fact that she had someone to share the ins and outs of her day with, and to chat to over dinner in the evenings. That’s why she was so glad to have someone as gentle and kind as him in her life.
But could Eric possibly say the same thing about her, she wondered, as she sat on her favourite park bench, particularly in light of how her family was determined to treat the poor man? Tonight being a case in point. It broke her heart to see Eric trying his level best with the twins for the entire evening, and getting absolutely nowhere for his trouble.
‘So ladies,’ he’d suggested over the dinner they all shared, which he’d spent hours putting together. ‘How about you both put away your digital devices while we eat together?’
The twins looked up at him with horrified stares.
‘What did you say?’ said Holly, disgusted.
‘Did I hear you right?’ said Molly at exactly the same time.
‘I think that’s a great idea,’ said Jayne, backing Eric up, and thinking that a bit of tough love wouldn’t do either of the twins any harm. ‘Come on, girls, hand over the phones and let’s all have a nice chat instead. Don’t you want to get to know Eric a little? He’s come all the way over here from Florida, you know.’
‘Yeah, but only so he can sponge off you,’ Holly muttered under her breath as Molly erupted into fits of giggles. ‘At least that’s what Mum and Dad say.’
‘Do they indeed,’ said Jayne thoughtfully, catching Eric’s eye. He gave her a half wink and she knew he didn’t mind the jibe too much. ‘Well, now, isn’t that interesting. I wonder how much thought your mum and dad have given to the other side of the argument?’
‘There is no other side,’ said Holly bossily, looking exactly like Irene as she said it. Same tight, pinched mouth, everything. ‘No offence or anything, Eric, you seem perfectly nice and everything. But as Mum says, we have to protect our granny from gold-diggers.’
‘Woah, hold your horses,’ said Eric calmly. ‘That’s a pretty big assumption you just made there, young lady.’
‘She’s right, though, isn’t she?’ Molly chipped in, backing up her twin as she always did. ‘I mean, come on. You went online, met my granny, then moved over here to be with her? Who does that? She’s a pensioner, for God’s sake, and
you’re an old man!’
‘Okay, you know what?’ said Jayne, throwing her napkin down and speaking quite sternly, for her. ‘That’s it. That’s quite enough out of the pair of you. Eric is my guest here and I won’t tolerate any more rudeness at my kitchen table.’
There was silence as both twins glared hotly over at Eric. Then Holly, always the braver of the two, spoke out.
‘We’re only saying what everyone else is thinking, Gran.’
At that, Jayne sat forwards at the table, almost grateful that it was all out in the open at last. ‘Girls, I’m sure you know the phrase that there are two sides to every story?’
‘Yeah,’ said Holly, moodily playing with her hair. ‘So?’
‘Let it go, Jayne,’ said Eric kindly from across the table. ‘We don’t need to get into this right now.’
‘The girls need to know the truth,’ she said to him. ‘As you always say, the truth is powerful.’
‘What are you both on about?’ said Holly, trying to keep up with the thread of the conversation.
‘You’re all assuming that Eric only came here to move in on a lonely old widow,’ Jayne went on, ‘and . . . oh, I can’t imagine what else they supposed, Eric . . . that what? That I’d lose all control of my faculties and sign the house over to you? Is that really what they think?’
She and Eric shared a conspiratorial little smile about that.
‘As if,’ he said.
‘So will you tell them, or will I?’ she asked him.
‘I think it’s probably better coming from you,’ he twinkled back.
‘All right then, girls, listen to this,’ said Jayne. ‘Suppose I were to tell you that Eric is actually independently wealthy – extremely wealthy, as it happens – in his own right? And that before he set up the Healing House, he owned many valuable properties throughout Florida, including restaurants and hotels? And still does?’
‘But you know, I started out sweeping floors in restaurant kitchens, ladies,’ Eric explained to the twins as they both gaped back at him. ‘And I worked my way up from there. Real estate was my trade for decades. Did kinda well out of it, too, I have to say.’
The Secrets of Primrose Square Page 18