A Posy of Promises

by Sharon Dempsey

  Mount Pleasant Square was beginning to feel like home. When Maggie had moved into the Sisters of Mercy care home, Ava had feared that she would never truly feel at peace again. Seeing her gran’s steady decline was heart breaking, but least now there was some sort of shared responsibility with Scarlett.

  There was a contentment in Maggie that Ava had never seen before. She wasn’t sure if it was borne out of Scarlett’s return, or if it was Maggie’s awareness that Ava was more settled and happy within herself.

  Watching Scarlett and Maggie reacquaint themselves was like seeing two wild bears circle each other, neither wanting to upset the other, in spite of the unspoken accusations hanging around them. Ava accepted that Scarlett would never have the kind of relationship she had experienced with Maggie, and she was sad about that. Somethings could never be fixed, but there was hope. She thought of the Japanese art of kintsugi, whereby broken ceramics were restored, giving them a new lease of life by pouring molten gold or silver into the cracks to hold the pieces together. The broken object becomes a thing of renewed beauty. Maybe Maggie and Scarlett could fashion a new relationship.

  The same went for Ava and Finlay. Just because their past relationship had broken didn’t mean it was unfixable. Ava was convinced that the break had helped her realise what she wanted out of life. While he was not back on the scene, she felt that it was only a matter of time. She just had to convince him that she was worth having back. That she finally knew her own mind, and that this time, she meant business. She could imagine Maggie admonishing her and saying, ‘Sometimes you have to lose something to know it’s worth.’ She had learnt her lesson. Finlay was everything she needed.

  Ava went back to soaking down the wallpaper of the master bedroom walls with a big wet yellow sponge. She was scraping it in preparation for the decorator’s arrival the following day and Niamh was supposed to be helping but had claimed to have a sore shoulder resulting from carrying her make-up kit on set the day before.

  ‘I can tell you if you have missed a bit, it is easier to see from over here,’ Niamh said from her comfy position tucked into the deep window seat with a pillow behind her back.

  ‘Oh thanks, you’re ever so helpful… not,’ replied Ava.

  ‘A bit higher and I think that strip will come off in one,’ said Niamh indicating to the corner of the yellowing paper which was already peeling away from the wall all on its own. Ava tugged the paper and it came away in one satisfying pull. She didn’t mind doing this type of work, especially not when she could see it all coming together at last.

  The kitchen was almost finished, the sleek white-coloured units with a granite work surface, replacing the mustard-coloured Formica ones, and stainless-steel appliances finishing it off to create a modern work area. The main living room had been gutted out, the old grey and brown marble fireplace, removed and actually sold for two hundred quid to a salvage yard, had been replaced by a wood burning stove. The old brass light fittings which had hung down looking precarious from a corroding thick chain had been taken out and the wooden floor sanded down, which made the room feel brighter and bigger.

  The house was definitely taking shape, and Ava was loving every minute of its transformation. So what if she had sunk every penny she had ever saved into it, and was making mortgage payments that were keeping her awake at night worrying over interest rates, and that she couldn’t afford to furnish most of the rooms?

  Ninety-seven Mount Pleasant Square was returning her love twofold. She felt energised, excited and happy just being in the house, experiencing its awakening.

  ‘So, what’s been happening with you? I haven’t seen you for weeks,’ said Ava wiping the water-drenched sponge over the wall with firm strokes to soak through the layers of wallpaper.

  ‘Oh, not much, still trying to get my head round losing my dad. I expect that’s one that I’ll never get used to.’

  ‘Give it time. It’s not something you’re going to get over, but hopefully you’ll be able to remember the good times you had with him,’ Ava said.

  Niamh nodded. ‘I’m back out there trying to distract myself with love.’

  ‘Who is it this time?’

  ‘Colm came back, declaring his marriage was over in all but name, wanting to pick up where he had left off.’

  ‘Please tell me you didn’t buy it.’ Ava turned with the sodden sponge dripping from her hand.

  ‘No, I did not. I gave him his marching orders. Told him to go back to his family and start behaving like an adult instead of a teenager. Since my dad died, I’ve sort of felt like I have to behave myself. He could be watching me after all. I just don’t want to let myself down and do anything he wouldn’t be proud of. So, I was a good girl and told the gorgeous Colm to be on his way.’

  ‘Good for you.’

  ‘And then, the very next day, I started work on the new film being shot down in the Titanic Quarter and discovered I’m working with the loveliest man ever.’

  Ava turned to see that Niamh was sparkling; she was all aglow.

  ‘Name and marital status?’ asked Ava, indulging her friend’s crush.

  ‘He’s called Lorcan and he’s completely single. I checked up on him before allowing myself to approach him. He’s the art director on the set, so he was standing around nearly as much as me between takes. Ava, you have to meet him. He’s so funny and smart and interesting. He’s worked all over the world, and guess where he’s based…’

  ‘Where?’ asked Ava, happy to humour her.

  ‘He has a tiny cottage nestled in the Mournes. Isn’t that just so quaint? His parents live in Castlewellan so he bought this little old falling down cottage as somewhere to stay when he isn’t working.’

  ‘I take it you managed to secure a date with him?’ Ava plunged the sponge into the bucket of warm soapy water to attack the next wall.

  ‘No, not yet but I’m working on it. We’re back on set tomorrow so I shall be my most entertaining. He seems a bit shy, really, so I don’t want to go full on in case I scare him away. Ava this hasn’t happened to me in such a long time.’

  ‘Oh please. What hasn’t? You’re always falling for the latest fella you meet.’

  ‘No, I mean really falling for him and for once he isn’t someone else’s guy.’

  ‘What’s he look like then?’

  ‘Curly, dark hair which sort of tumbles about in loose spirals — very Byron. He has the darkest chocolate brown eyes I’ve ever seen and is at least six feet two and very broad. Oh, he’s such a honey, trouble is most of the girls on set think so too.’

  ‘Just be yourself and I’m sure he’ll find it hard to resist you. What did Cal make of him?’

  ‘Oh, he didn’t see what the rest of us were twittering on about. Said he looked a bit up himself.’

  ‘I’m just glad you had enough sense to send Colm on his way. You really are selling yourself short when you get involved with married men. Apart from the rights and wrongs of it all, you inevitably end up hurt. It’s a game no one wins.’

  ‘I know, I know. I’ve made a few mistakes, but honestly, I feel so different about everything to do with men now. I don’t know why I let myself get involved with the wrong ones so often, but unless I know without a doubt that someone is unattached, then I’m not even going to get into a conversation with them. Suppose I’m growing up.’

  ‘’Bout time,’ said Ava reaching to scrape away a corner piece which was resisting her tugging. ‘You were beginning to act like the oldest teenager in town.’

  ‘Oh, thanks. Glad to know you think so highly of me. Still, I know I’ve messed around for too long. It’s time to stop selling myself short and if Lorcan isn’t the right one then I will just have to wait it out until he turns up,’ Niamh said readjusting the cushion behind her head.

  ‘Listen to you, sounding all sure of yourself. Wait till you’re blootered some night and find yourself sitting on the lap of some handsome banker with a wedding band and two kids.’

  ‘No honestly, I can’t
live with all that drama any more. I want my dad to know that I’m making good choices, and I think he’d like Lorcan, which is more than I can say for most of the other men I’ve ever been involved with.’

  ‘Good for you. I hope the poor fella knows what he’s getting into with you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t fret. He’ll have no complaints if I get to have my wicked way with him.’ She settled back into the cosy nest she had created for herself on the window seat. ‘I’m going to take a wee snooze for half an hour. Wake me up when you’re done.’

  36

  The scent of autumn leaves, burning in a bonfire, hung in the air, reminding Ava that time was rushing on. She worried that every visit to see Maggie could be her last. It was hard to see Maggie decline, she was sleeping more and eating less. Her periods of lucid chat were becoming less frequent, but yet, there was still a sense of serenity and peacefulness around her, which Ava took comfort from.

  Ava smiled to herself as she watched Scarlett and Quinn, the gardener at the Sisters of Mercy care home, chat away. They were relaxed and clearly enjoying each other’s company, looking like they had known each other for years.

  Quinn was laughing at Scarlett, his face completely altered from the surly, serious expression he normally wore. Ava noticed he had grown a beard which suited him. Scott, his equally quiet and surly fifteen-year-old son, was lifting huge armfuls of cut grass and carrying it to a pile at the bottom of the garden to the bonfire.

  Ava looked over to Maggie. Her soft white curls were tidy and orderly and her skin, though lined by time, still glowed. Scarlett’s version of Maggie as a tyrant — who had tried hard to crush her talent, had resented her freedom and belittled her achievements — didn’t add up for Ava. None of it rang true, but still Ava hadn’t wanted to openly call her mother a liar. If that was her take on growing up in Moonstone Street then she could hardly deny Scarlett her version of the truth.

  Ava liked to think of herself as being the fortunate one. Maggie’s love and attention had never wavered, nor waned. She had cared for Ava with the dedication of the best of mothers and for this, Ava would be eternally grateful. When Scarlett had mocked Ava for her devotion to Maggie and had sniped about needing to loosen the apron strings before they hung her, she had bristled, but bit her tongue and decided that they needed more time to understand each other. She didn’t want to judge Scarlett too harshly and was quietly desperate for Scarlett to like and accept her.

  Ava’s reverie was broken by humming drifting in through the window. It was a familiar tune, but Ava couldn’t have named it.

  Later, on the way home, Ava thought of the song and asked Scarlett had she been humming one of her own songs while in the garden.

  ‘Oh, I do it without even knowing I’m doing it, sometimes. Yes, it’s “Black Bird Fly Away”’ Then she sang a couple of lines:

  Black bird, fly through my dreams,

  Lift me from the ether and take me to new lands.

  Let me feel your wings spread beneath me

  As I soar high and higher.

  Ava was spellbound, Scarlett’s voice had an eerie, mystical quality which was hypnotising. For the first time, she had a sense of what Scarlett’s talent must have been like and glimpsed the effect she must have had over her audience.

  The past few weeks had been fraught with emotion, both mother and daughter desperate to build some sort of meaningful relationship out of their bond. But it wasn’t easy. Ava found herself making excuses for Scarlett’s selfish ways, her constant need to be talking about the wonderful life she had in America, her elaborate stories of her days playing in the band, and the friends she had left behind in LA. Sometimes Ava just wanted to say, get over yourself, either be here with me and Maggie, or pack up your hippy shit and head on back to LA if it is so bloody wonderful. But of course, she didn’t dare say anything for fear of losing her again. Ava was willing to put up with all her faults to just have some sort of relationship with her.

  37

  ‘Hello, Mom. How are you doing?’ asked Scarlett, her American accent sounding out of place in the convent home.

  Ava kissed Maggie on the forehead and straightened up her pillow. The last few weeks had been hard. Maggie appeared to have given up the will to live. She was eating little and seemed to be in a world of her own more and more. Ava queried whether she should be moved to a hospital, but the GP, Doctor Napier had said she was better off where she was being cared for by the calm and even-tempered nuns and attendants. A bustling hospital ward would disorientate her further, and there was no guarantee she wouldn’t pick up one of the more-serious bugs.

  Sister Lucy had promised to ring Ava, day or night, if there was any change. She lived with her mobile phone attached to her at all times, just in case.

  Scarlett sat on the edge of the bed looking restless already. She seemed to have no sense of staying still and just being. It was another fault which irritated Ava. It was as if Scarlett was always looking for something better to do.

  ‘Do you want to take a walk up to the communal kitchen and make a cup of tea?’ asked Ava, willing Scarlett to give her some time alone with Maggie. Since Scarlett had come home, Ava had felt off key with her relationship with Maggie. At times, Ava felt Scarlett displaced her, that Ava was no longer Maggie’s number one priority. Ridiculous she knew, considering poor Maggie was lying in a bed unable to look after either of them or make a hint of suggestion as to which was her preferred child. The truth was, meeting Scarlett had only served to make Ava feel more like Maggie’s child than ever before. She shared more of Maggie’s stoic personality than that of Scarlett’s fiery restlessness.

  Scarlett’s sense of entitlement also agitated her; it was as if she expected people to greet her like the prodigal daughter, welcoming her back with open arms despite her having been away for years without any contact. Even Sister Lucy had rejoiced to see mother and daughter reunited, as if to say Maggie could die in peace at last. But Ava wasn’t ready to let Maggie go, and almost saw Scarlett’s presence as pushing her on.

  Still, Ava knew she was perhaps being a bit harsh. Scarlett was trying hard to forge some sort of relationship with her. The trouble was that neither of them had much in common. Even the things they shared, like growing up in Moonstone Street were divisive. While Ava had nothing but warm, happy memories of a childhood suffused in love, Scarlett saw Moonstone Street as a claustrophobic brick box which she had longed to escape along with the iron grip of her parents.

  Ava also assumed that Scarlett considered her life to be parochial, verging on plain boring. While Scarlett had spent her twenties travelling all over America in a custom-built tour bus packed with her four band members and a succession of cute, muscled roadies, Ava was busy working in Blooming Dales while trying to keep Moonstone Street ticking over, overseeing the building work on number ninety-seven looking after Maggie.

  Scarlett stood up and stretched elaborately as if she had been sitting still for hours. ‘Yes, I’ll go fetch a cup of coffee. How about you, Ava, would you like one?’

  ‘No thanks, I’m fine,’ replied Ava, a touch tetchy.

  Scarlett flounced off, oblivious to Ava’s irritation.

  ‘Gran, how are you today?’ Ava asked.

  Maggie didn’t flicker. She lay as still as a log felled in a forest.

  ‘Must be nice for you to know Scarlett’s around again. Still, she can be a tad wearing. Sometimes I think I will scream if she doesn’t stop humming her bloody songs, expecting us all to listen and applaud. Yes, I know you’d probably tell me to stop moaning and be more grateful that she has come back, but the truth is I think I liked the idea of her better than the reality.’ Ava giggled as she realised how true that was.

  ‘Don’t preach, Gran. I know that I should be nice to her and I am, I just need to offload a little in case I snap, and under duress say something about her hair, her clothes, or her phoney American accent.’

  Ava could have sworn she saw a flicker of amusement pass over Maggie’s immobile f
ace. Just a twitch, but she looked like Ava’s predicament was humouring her. God, I’m imagining things now, thought Ava.

  ‘Move over, Gran, I think you need to let me in beside you.’ Ava joked. She used to love sleeping next to Maggie, though it only happened rarely when she was sick or on Christmas Eve.

  ‘God, I feel so guilty,’ said Scarlett later, as they made their way home.

  Ava nodded in agreement. ‘I know, every time I leave her there I feel like I should run back and kidnap her. It doesn’t seem right to walk away and leave her just lying there.’

  ‘No, not about Mom, about you. I feel so bad that I’ve left you to do all this,’ she said, waving her hands expressively as if to take in the entirety of the Sisters of Mercy care home and Ava’s life.

  ‘What?’ asked Ava looking at her, trying to fathom what she was on about.

  ‘You shouldn’t have had to look after my mom. You should have been living your life, not caring for an elderly relative.’

  ‘I don’t think of Gran as just an elderly relative. I want to care for her. She isn’t a burden to be escaped from you know.’ Ava was bristling with indignation.

  ‘Didn’t you long to escape? To live a different life from this? You shouldn’t be shackled to an old woman at your age.’

  There it was again that: that implication that life here wasn’t good enough. Ava was sick of it. Sick of Scarlett comparing Belfast to LA, sick of her insinuating that her life was so much more fulfilled than Ava’s could ever be. Who was Scarlett to swan into their lives and make judgements like that?

  ‘God, you are so full of yourself. Have you ever considered anyone else or has it always been about your needs, your desires?’ Ava could feel the heat rising up her neck to her face. She was flushed crimson, her anger manifest. It wasn’t like Ava to cause a scene or even voice an opinion strongly. She firmly believed in live and let live and didn’t seek to force her views on anyone else. But this time, Ava was pushed to the limit.