Oh, for goodness sake, stop being sentimental and think, woman! She gazed up at her bedroom ceiling, desperate for guidance. What should she do? Reply, but say what? Should she contact a solicitor about this? Dear God, what a bombshell.
“I am Lacey, your daughter…” The words stood out for Cora, “your daughter”. Her flesh and blood; this was her own child. It was incredible to acknowledge that there was family out there that she had chosen to ignore, but for how much longer? She went to her home office and retrieved a folder from the back of a filing cabinet, holding it to her chest for a few moments before opening it.
Did she want to go there? She had not looked at its contents in over twenty years. But this letter had made it an impossibility not to look through it now. She walked over to her desk and put the file on the table before her. This is silly. I can ignore it, she told herself, no-one says I have to do this, and I’m not going to. Picking up the still closed folder, she walked back to the filing cabinet and tucked it in its original place. Then she slammed the drawer shut and went to work.
* * *
As the days turned to weeks, Lacey did her best to keep positive. She had badgered Philip about where her mother lived until he gave in and told her. She decided that if there wasn’t word by the end of the month, she was going to visit Chester. She knew Philip would be firmly against it, and Sally would think her mad. But it wasn’t their lives which were in limbo. So she didn’t tell them.
Sally and Lacey decided to visit all the tourist spots in their home city of Dublin. Pretending to be visitors, they spent several days sightseeing and lunching in all the recommended bistros and cafés. Although the miserable month of November meant the weather was atrocious at times, they did not allow it to stop their plans. There was so much on their doorstep that they had never realised.
It proved to be great fun and kept her mind occupied by day, but each night Lacey made deals with God to have her mother contact her. She would pray fervently on her knees, and even at times light a candle to her angels guiding her. Every morning when she woke, she reminded Him of their deal.
“I’m coming, take it easy,” Lacey grumbled when she was wakened by someone pressing the doorbell incessantly for the fourth time. Whoever was outside meant business! She glanced at the clock, shocked to see how late she had slept.
Pulling on her fluffy dressing gown, she rushed downstairs and flung open the front door. Philip Sherman rushed by her without a word of greeting and Lacey could only close the door and follow him down the hallway.
“Philip,” she called, when her voice found her.
“She replied, Lacey. It came in this morning’s post.” Excitement written all over his kind face, Philip waved an envelope in the air. He paced up and down in the kitchen.
“Sit down before you have another heart attack.” Lacey pulled a chair out for him and quickly put on the kettle, before taking a seat on the other side of the kitchen table.
“Aren’t you excited? Are you going to open it?” Eagerness shone from his eyes.
Lacey picked up the letter. She handled it with caution, afraid now that the answer may not be what she wanted to hear. She glanced at Philip.
“But, Philip, what if it’s not good?”
“But, Lacey, what if it is?”
“I’m scared! Did she say anything to you? Did you get a letter, too?” Her pleading voice implored him for reassurance.
“She thanked me for handling the matter and asked if I would please forward the enclosed letter to you.” He pointed at the life-changing cream envelope in her hand.
“Oh God, Philip, this is it.” She slipped her finger under the flap on the envelope and, little by little, opened it. She squeezed her eyes shut, and then slowly opened them as she fixed her gaze over the letter she held.
Her eyes wandered over the page! It was handwritten. She drank all of it in, every detail, the curl of the y and g, the dark dot of the i; this was her mother’s hand, her signature, the first real contact with Cora.
Philip sat in silence, unwilling to break the spell. He worked with letters, documents, and contracts all his life and, looking at Lacey now, he saw the true power of the pen.
She glanced up at him and a smile pulled at her mouth. She settled herself, planting her feet firmly under her on the chair and, getting ready to read aloud, she took a deep breath. Her eyes drank in the words as she read, without uttering a sound.
Lacey,
Thank you for your letter. I am still in shock that you decided to contact me. I don’t know what you expect of me. Joe and Lillian are your parents, and I accepted a long time ago that it would remain so always. However, time moves on for us all and now that we have exchanged words I will consider a meeting sometime, but when I cannot say. I suggest we both think carefully before being involved with each other too deeply, if at all. Please continue to use Mr. Sherman’s office as our mediator. Keep safe and well.
Cora Maguire
She handed the letter to Philip. Getting to her feet, she walked around the room, her mind filled with...with...nothing. The curt politeness of Cora’s words was cold. It was nothing more than a business letter. There was no joy in it, no warmth, not even a hint of comfort. She heard Philip sigh. He, too, could see the emptiness emanating from the page. The excitement of holding her mother’s written hand melted away in an instant within Lacey. She’d had more love from Lillian on a bad day than Cora had expressed on finding her lost daughter. She saw Philip turn to look at her.
“Please, don’t say it. I know. I know you warned me, but Christ, Philip, a landlord evicting a family would show more emotion.” She stood with her arms in the air in total disbelief.
“Listen, Lacey, you must remember that you knew you were sending the letter. You adjusted your thoughts, emotions, everything, but she wasn’t to know this bolt of thunder was coming out of the blue.”
“Clap.”
“What?”
“It’s a clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning.”
“Whatever. You have had time to think, that’s all I’m saying, she’s probably still in complete turmoil.” Philip stood up and went towards her.
“Do as she asks, think about the next move. Maybe consider cutting ties now before you get hurt any more.” He drew her to him and held her in a fatherly hug, then walked silently down the hall leaving her with the warmth of his embrace. The joy and excitement of his arrival had disappeared, his leaving was quiet and subdued. Lacey remained standing while she heard the door close behind her friend. The letter lay on the table. She picked it up and looked over it again as she strolled to the sitting room, and then threw it back down on the coffee table. She needed fresh air. A walk would be good.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The traffic crawled by her, people rushing to the next appointment of their day and yet getting nowhere. She overtook the same purple car, at least three times. It was like a race, who would reach the traffic lights first, the car or the pedestrians, and she seemed to be in pole position. The breeze was brisk and she shivered a little, yet welcomed the chill; it brought freshness to the air. Lacey refused to think about Cora. Instead, she filled her head with the sounds of life around her.
Engines purred as the cars continued to crawl, while other engines revved with impatience at roadworks blocking a lane further on. The drilling and shouting, along with the traffic, occupied her troubled mind. People on mobile phones talked aloud, while others had headphones in as they walked, snatches of their music drifting towards her as they passed. This was what she sought. Hustle and bustle, noise everywhere; she soaked it up as she strolled along. Allowing strangers’ conversations to filter into her head, she watched their movements, how they stepped around each other without bumping, all in the dark sombre suits of business. Lacey had no idea how far she had walked. Spotting a café up ahead, she headed towards its friendly neon lights.
The strong aroma of hot coffee welcomed her as she stepped inside. A radio was tuned to a popular talk-show disc
ussing the Government’s latest cuts to the health system. She picked a table near the window and sipped at her drink, the world passing outside the sole occupant of her mind. She wiped the window down with a napkin, condensation from the November day gathering inside from the heat. A child’s cry broke into her thoughts, interrupting the steady stream of strangers she was watching pass the window outside. She heard it again, and the strength of the wail forced her to look around the room.
Over in the corner of the café, a mother was battling with her toddler and a buggy. The child struggled without tiring against the woman, whose eyes showed weariness and despair. Shopping bags were stacked beneath the buggy on a tray. After more screams from the child, the mother finally got her strapped in. Lacey got up and held the door open and the mother smiled in grateful appreciation.
“Thank you, some days I feel like giving her away.” The mother ruffled the child’s hair playfully, her words a gentle joke.
Sitting back down at her table, Lacey watched the woman walk up the street.
“Some mothers actually do,” she mumbled, to no-one in particular. Pushing the coffee cup away from her, Lacey paid and started the walk home.
* * *
“Lacey, is that you?” Sally shouted from upstairs.
“No, it’s an axe-wielding murderer,” she half-heartedly joked back.
Sally bounced down the stairs as her sister threw her jacket on a chair.
“What have you been up to? You look flushed, what’s up?” Sally followed Lacey through to the sitting room.
“I went for a long walk, had a coffee, and realised how unfit I am, hence the red face,” she groaned.
“Well, I have news. I went to a travel agent’s and booked a ticket – one-way, to India.” She flopped down onto the sofa and raised her hands in the air with joy. Sally’s skin was glowing, her voice light, the happiness radiating from her filled the room.
“Oh, Sally, no! Really? When? Why?”
“Lacey, why not?” Sally sat upright, surprised at the questions.
Lacey couldn’t answer. Who was she to rain on Sally’s parade? She wasn’t that surprised by the announcement, in truth; it was to be expected. She lifted Cora’s letter where it still lay on the coffee table, folded it, and placed it in her bag.
“What’s that?” Sally enquired.
“Nothing. So when do you leave? What about we get an Indian takeaway and have an early dinner, and get you in the mood for your new adventures?” She leaned down and hugged Sally.
“Great idea, Sis, and why not a bottle or two of vino?”
Lacey watched as Sally searched the kitchen drawers for the local takeaway’s leaflet. She would miss her sister, but she had no right to dampen Sally’s joy. They had all endured so much this year that Sally deserved – no, had the right – to seek happiness in her life again.
Having ordered their takeaway, Lacey popped out for a couple of bottles of wine at the nearby off-licence while Sally set the table and sorted the cutlery, humming quietly with pleasure.
The wind and rain that had been falling disappeared as the evening passed. “Hey, have you started on the drink without me?” Lacey heard her sister laughing as she approached the kitchen.
“Nope, just drunk on good thoughts and new adventures, my dear woman,” Sally grinned.
Twenty minutes later their doorbell went, signalling the arrival of delicious spicy food. They ate with enthusiasm, sharing bites of the different dishes – a bit of chicken tikka and chicken jalfrezi, accompanied by poppadoms and naan bread – washed down with chilled white wine.
Sally’s happy and relaxed mood had rubbed off on Lacey, and she found it easy to put thoughts of Cora’s letter aside for the night.
“Why India, Sally?”
“There’s so much to see there, Lacey. I love the colours, the spices, the off-the-beaten-track villages. It’s a whole different world to explore.”
“Are you not worried about travelling solo? I mean, there are dangers there, too. It’s not all romance and roses.”
“Well, I’ve done Australia, China, even the US, so why not India? If I don’t like it, I’m free to move on. Nothing to stop me, I’m a free woman.” Sally poured the last of the wine and shook the bottle.
“You’re so brave. Does anything faze you, Sal?” Lacey studied her sister. A sense of maturity oozed from her kind eyes. Her smile alone was calming, her laughter infectious.
“Yep, spiders or earwigs. Anything with more than four legs!” she chuckled.
“And you’re heading to India!” Lacey shook her head in mock disbelief.
Both dissolved into laughter and Lacey took another cold bottle of wine from the fridge. If they were going to have a hangover, they may as well make it a worthy one!
“What about you, little sis? You’re a pretty brave lady yourself. Anyone who has gone through such a huge personal upheaval and is still standing at the end of it, must be one tough cookie,” Sally’s voice was even, her tone serious, as she picked at the label of the wine bottle.
Lacey said nothing. Her thoughts turned to Cora’s letter.
As if reading her mind, Sally asked gently, “So...what was in the letter? The one on the table. Anything you want to share?”
Lacey looked up, her face serious, and met Sally’s gaze. “Nope, just another step in locating my mother. All good.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Sally had all her vaccinations up-to-date and was well organised in what she would take with her; a seasoned traveller, this was what she did best. She had missed the dust of dirt-tracks, the heat and heavy rains of distant lands. She longed for new cultures and actually living the experience some people only dreamed of or watched on TV.
She and Lacey were at peace with each other about her departure. Sally didn’t feel guilty about leaving her younger sister, and Lacey didn’t appear to feel abandoned by Sally. They had both grown stronger, and were more contented with the directions in which their lives were going.
Robert and Aoife had been surprised when they heard that Sally was departing for pastures new. Aoife moving in with Rob had been the right move for both of them, and Sally could see that they were great together.
They promised to visit her for a holiday, perhaps join her for a few weeks in the New Year. Sally could sense he was a little disappointed she was leaving before Christmas – a time when families should be together, reuniting instead of parting ways, but he didn’t voice his feelings. And, Sally assured herself, he had his new beginnings with Aoife, so he wouldn’t be alone.
* * *
The evenings were short, dusk arriving earlier each week. Scarves, gloves and heavy winter jackets had been dusted off and brought out from the back recesses of wardrobes. For some reason, this unpredictable weather suited Lacey. It mirrored how she felt; one day was good, but the next day, just deciding what to have for breakfast was momentous.
When she thought of Cora’s letter, the flame of hope in her heart dimmed a little each time. She also noticed that she now referred to the woman as Cora, and no longer as Mum or Mother. Cora’s words had been so businesslike that they had put a different gloss on the whole situation now. The letter felt like a flat, cold dismissal.
Sally was leaving in a few days so Lacey would make her decision after that. One day at a time had become her motto. Sitting in front of her television, she flicked restlessly from channel to channel. Since her sister’s announcement about going to India, Lacey had questioned her own path in life more. She had naively thought that with Cora in her life, her future would be sorted. How stupid and childish that was!
She needed to feel brave, to be in control, to feel like an adult again. This was the second time that a simple letter had knocked her down. She deserved better. She called Philip to give him Sally’s news and to check if he would be free to meet someday soon. He told her to call around the following day.
* * *
“So have you made a decision, Lacey?” he asked, while pouring her some te
a.
“Yes, only this morning actually. I made a decision and I’ve quit my job.” Lacey waited for the backlash. Why? Are you crazy? Or something similar.
“I see, in a way I’m not that surprised. When people have endured major upheaval, they can rebel in many ways. You chose to quit your job. Yes, I’m not surprised.” He nodded in a wise, knowing manner.
“Oh, right. I don’t get any lectures then?”
“Lecture? Why, Lacey? What would that achieve? Plus, I’m not your parent.” A faint smile played on his lips as he spoke. The ease with which he had taken her news had thrown her a little. She had been prepared to explain her actions, but now none of her speech was needed.
“I’m going to write to her again, Philip, and that will be it. No more waiting or wondering, I’m going to get on with my life, like Sally.” Her bottom lip trembled a little, betraying the stern words she spoke.
“How do you feel about Sally leaving?” Philip watched her intently.
“Sad but happy. I must be more like her, I reckon. Be decisive, go out and greet the world rather than sit in the corner and watch it pass by.”
They drank their tea and munched some ginger biscuits. The silence was easy between them.
“How are you so calm? I mean, I told you I’ve quit my job and you say nothing. You don’t try to persuade me to think again or tell me I’ll regret it. Why?” She couldn’t let it go.
The old man looked at her. He put down his cup and sat back in the chair, his hands relaxed beside him on the armrests.
“Why would I?” he answered, raising his eyebrows. “Would it change anything? I think not. I’ve learned that life is full of change. In my line of work, I have seen people do what they think is right with their lives. Others do what they believe is expected of them by others. Often these people are sad and carry a veneer of bitterness for settling for what they know is not what truly lies in their hearts.” He gave a little chuckle.
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