‘It wasn’t the best craic I’ve had, but it was inevitable at some point.’
‘If that was two weeks ago, what happened to bring on the heart attack? Or was it just a build-up of rage?’
‘It was coming for a while, and it wasn’t helped by Keenan going round on Saturday night and announcing that he’s getting divorced.’
‘No! I thought you said he was a strict Catholic like Da.’
‘I thought he was, but I’ve spent so little time in his company since the kids were born that I had no idea how much he’d changed. He took Éamonn with him for support, which makes me think he must have changed too.’
‘So I’m not the only sinner in the family, then?’
Aisling shook her head. ‘Nope. Five kids, two divorcees, and one supporting one of those. Mind you, you still hold the crown for being a wicked harlot. Keenan and I are sadly no contest for you there.’
I laughed. ‘I’m very proud of that. Will I have that carved on my gravestone? “Here lies Clare O’Connell. Wicked harlot. And proud!”’
Aisling laughed loudly. ‘I’ll have to outlive you now, just to be able to see that.’ She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her head as if letting the tension ease away. ‘You’re a tonic, little sister. An absolute tonic.’
We drove in silence for a while until I realised she hadn’t finished the story. ‘You said you didn’t think that Keenan’s news had helped. Does that mean something else happened too?’
‘Yes! Sorry. I didn’t explain that very well, did I? So, we have him angry with you since, well, since forever. We have him furious with me for spending time with you. We have him livid with the twins, and then the straw that broke the camel’s back was that he went and paid a visit to Father Doherty after Mass yesterday. I hadn’t told him about you seeing the Father and him handing over the letters. I hadn’t been hiding it deliberately, but it just didn’t seem like information to share and he hardly ever visits Father Doherty. I’m assuming he wanted his guidance on the divorce situation, so he pays him a visit, no doubt expecting support and understanding. Instead he gets a sermon on how wonderful you are and how he should seek forgiveness. He storms out, drives home and collapses an hour later.’
‘Christ!’
‘I know!’
We pulled into the visitors’ car park of Cork University Hospital and walked towards the entrance. ‘Tell me honestly,’ I said, ‘Why do you think he’s asked for me?’
‘To clear his conscience.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
She hesitated and lightly touched my arm. ‘I want to. I really do.’
My stomach churned. She clearly thought exactly the same as me: he wanted to say his piece before he met his maker, and his piece wasn’t going to be about making peace. It was going to be about him getting the last word in. Would I let him, or would I finally tell him exactly what I thought of him, knowing that it could finish him off?
I’d carefully selected my outfit. I didn’t want to give them any ammunition to accuse me of dressing provocatively, so I wore a pair of tailored boot-cut black trousers, a ruched turquoise blouse that revealed no cleavage and a pair of low-heeled boots. From the withering look Ma gave me, I might as well have danced down the ward wearing fig leaves on my privates and flowers in my hair.
‘The good Lord alone knows why he’s asked for you, you dirty harlot.’ She rose from beside his bed and narrowed her eyes at me.
‘Hello, Ma. It’s lovely to see you too.’ My voice might have sounded confident but I didn’t feel confident inside. I felt like a 16-year-old girl being judged all over again. I hated that the pair of them still had that effect on me.
‘Will we get some tea, Ma?’ Aisling said, grabbing Ma’s shoulders and steering her out of the ward.
I gasped as I took in the sight before me. When I’d last seen him just two months earlier, he’d looked older, of course, but he’d still been a big, strong, formidable character. Lying on the bed in front of me was an old man with grey skin and sunken features. If I’d walked into a room full of beds, I’d never have picked him out as my da. Wires connected him to various bleeping machines, and I wondered fleetingly what was keeping him alive: the machines or sheer willpower in wanting a final standoff with me.
I glanced at the chair that Ma had just vacated. Sitting would bring me down to his level. It would take me closer to him. It would imply a relationship: that I wanted to be close because I cared. I pushed my shoulders back and stood tall. ‘You wanted to see me.’
His eyes flickered open and he turned his head slightly. ‘You’re here.’ It was uttered as a statement: no relief, no sentiment. Just as well I hadn’t sat down.
‘I’m here. I thought Aisling might need me.’ Cheap shot but you deserve it. 15-love.
‘Why would she need you?’ Ooh. 15-all.
‘Because, try as you might to turn my whole family against me, she had the intelligence and integrity to bother to find out the truth.’ 30-15, I believe.
The beeps on the heart monitor quickened. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled deeply a few times until they steadied. I glanced towards the door, my heart racing too. Should I just leave? He meant nothing to me, but he was a human being and I didn’t want to be the cause of his death.
‘You found her.’
I turned back to Da. ‘Who?’
‘You know who.’ The strong voice was back. Demanding. Accusing.
‘Oh. Would you be referring to Shannon? My daughter? Your granddaughter? Did you know that was her name? Shannon Máire. Beautiful Irish name, isn’t it, for a beautiful Irish girl?’ 40-15.
He stared at me, his dark eyes flashing with the same contempt I’d seen in Ma’s. ‘You say that as if I’d care. You should know that she means nothing to me. NOTHING! You’re not my daughter so she’s not my granddaughter.’ Ouch! 40-30.
I straightened my shoulders again and narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Why did you ask for me?’
‘To order you to stop bringing shame on this family.’
‘To order me?’ I slammed my handbag down on the floor in disgust. ‘I don’t take orders from you and haven’t done since you threw me out.’
‘Maybe not directly, but I’ve still controlled your life. I made you give up your bastard, didn’t I?’ Deuce.
‘Oh, that reminds me. Did you know that my bastard had her own little bastard?’ His eyes widened and the heart-monitor beeps quickened again. Advantage, Ms O’Connell. ‘Yes, I thought that might shock you. A little boy called Luke and he’s absolutely gorgeous. You might have sent my fiancé away from me and stolen my opportunity to be a mother to his child, but you can meet your God knowing that Daran McInnery lives on in his grandson. I may not have been a mother, but I’ll be the best grandmother ever.’ Game, Ms O’Connell.
‘You’re lying,’ he said.
‘No, that’s what you do, Da. I’m nothing like you.’ I picked up my bag and grabbed my iPhone. I opened the photos on a recent shot of Shannon cuddling Luke and thrust the phone into his eyeline. ‘Gorgeous, aren’t they? My family, who, despite everything you did, I’m reunited with.’
‘More shame on the family,’ he spat.
‘I don’t know why you’re getting so het up about it. You told me two months ago that you had no daughter and you’ve just reiterated it now. You’re absolutely right too. You don’t have a daughter because I don’t recognise you as my father. That means that you don’t have a granddaughter or a great-grandson. I, on the other hand, have a family who love me unconditionally and, whatever challenges or issues Shannon or Luke face in the future, I’ll be there for them without judgement or prejudice. Because that’s what families do. But, hey, you’d know that if you’d ever been part of a loving family, wouldn’t you?’
‘Family? What do you know about family?’
‘Loads of things, and none of it wa
s learned from you. I’m not the one who brought shame on the family. You and Ma did that by your actions towards me before you knew about Daran, after you knew about him, and every moment of every day ever since.’
He stared at me, breathing heavily, but I could see that the fight had gone out of his eyes. Whether that was down to fatigue or recognition that the words I spoke were true, I’ll never know.
I put my phone back in my handbag and hoisted it onto my shoulder. ‘What I suggest you do is forget about me from now on. Put your energy into getting yourself better and repairing your damaged relationship with Aisling and the twins, and Nia if you’ve damaged that too. They’re your family. I’m not. So what I do from now on should make no difference to you.’ I shook my head and turned to go. Then I turned back. ‘I feel sorry for you, Pádraig O’Connell. I just hope your God can forgive you for your sins because I can’t. Goodbye.’ Without another glance, I strode out of the ward and out of the hospital. Game, set and match, Ms O’Connell.
Chapter 35
The call came through at 5.47am the following morning as I lay fully dressed on top of my bed in The River Lee Hotel. ‘He’s dead, Clare,’ Aisling said, in a tone that reflected relief rather than sorrow. ‘I can’t believe he’s died on St Patrick’s Day of all days.’
The significance of the date hadn’t been lost on me either. ‘I want to say I’m sorry…’
‘I know. And I understand. Look, Ma’s lost it so I can’t talk just now. I’ll call you later and we’ll meet. Promise me one thing.’
‘What?’
‘You won’t go home. I want you here. I need you here.’
‘I promise.’
I lay back on the pillows, staring at the hotel ceiling, clutching my phone to my chest. ‘Wherever you are right now, I hope you’ve found your peace,’ I whispered. ‘Because I don’t think you ever found it in this lifetime, did you, Da?’ A tear slid down my cheek, then another, and soon my cheeks were slick with moisture.
Why was I crying? Regret? I certainly didn’t regret what I’d said the night before. I’d maintained my dignity while my parents had continued the name-calling. Tempted as I’d been, I hadn’t told him what I thought of him – I’m not that heartless – although I had deliberately given him facts that I hoped would hurt him. Relief? I tossed the feeling around my mind. Was I relieved he was gone? Not really because, although his actions from 17 years ago had had a major impact on my life, I’d blocked thoughts of him from my mind until recently, so he hadn’t been on my radar enough for me to be relieved that he was no longer around.
I turned onto my side, staring towards the curtained window. What was it, then? Loss? I certainly wasn’t going to miss him. You can’t miss something you never had. Maybe that was it. Maybe I was mourning never having had a father, Shannon not knowing her father and Luke not knowing his grandfather or great-grandparents. But at least Shannon had had her adopted dad, and Luke would have Ben. I sat up and wiped my cheeks. Luke would have Ben? Where had that come from? Ben was just a friend; he wasn’t a father figure. Obviously, I’d meant Callum. I looked at the clock: 6.23am. I needed some fresh air. I wasn’t thinking straight.
* To Aisling
Hope Ma’s calmed down. I’m out for a walk but I’ve got my phone with me. I’m here for you xxx
It was a few hours before Aisling called, suggesting that we meet up for tea and saying she had a surprise for me: Keenan and Éamonn wanted to join us!
The pub was heaving with St Patrick’s Day revellers. Green and white bunting and flags hung from the ceiling and the bar. All-day drinkers wearing leprechaun hats and ginger beards brushed shoulders with those who’d had to work the bank holiday but had stopped off for a swift drink or two on the way home.
‘Clare? Is that you? I barely recognised you.’
‘I did. It’s the eyes. I remember those green eyes.’
The four of us stood awkwardly in a small gap near the bar. Hug? Shake hands? What was normal in these situations?
I looked at Aisling for reassurance and she nodded encouragingly. ‘I’d have recognised you two,’ I said, ‘but I must confess that I don’t know which is which anymore.’ As boys and young men, they’d been identical, although, being their sister, I’d never mixed them up. Now they’d both changed. You’d have put them as brothers, but not necessarily twins. One wore dark designer jeans, a designer shirt, was freshly shaved, smartly coiffed and wore contact lenses. The other wore old, worn blue jeans and a cheap T-Shirt with a couple of small holes in it. His hair curled up at the collar of his shirt and was flecked with grey. Glasses couldn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes, which fitted well with a few days’ growth on his chin. I suspected he was the soon-to-be-divorced Keenan. I was right.
‘Quick! Grab that table!’ Éamonn called, pointing to a table by the window about to be vacated by a gaggle of leprechauns. Aisling practically launched herself at it. We took our seats and an awkward silence descended on us again. The pub door opened and I half-expected a collection of tumbleweed to blow through and spin past us. I was about to make a flippant comment about that to try to break the ice when I saw Keenan remove his glasses and rub his eyes. At that moment, I registered what they’d been through that day and that the silence was more about that than it was about meeting me again. I might have detached myself from Da years previously, but they hadn’t. They’d lost their father that morning and were probably hurting like hell.
‘I’d ask “tough day?” but I’m guessing that would be a daft question,’ I said.
Keenan gave me a weak smile. ‘One of the toughest.’
‘Look, I really appreciate you coming to meet me, but I understand if you’d rather not do the big reunion thing tonight. You all look exhausted.’
‘We are,’ Éamonn said. ‘But it’s nothing a bit of food won’t fix. I’m absolutely starving. I need to order some food pretty damn quick. Apologies if that’s rude.’
I smiled. ‘I understand. I’m pretty hungry myself.’
The three of them grabbed menus from the holder on the table. They’d probably barely touched food for the past two days.
‘It’s been a long time,’ Éamonn said, after we’d ordered our meals. ‘You look great, Clare. Aisling says you’re a PR Manager or something like that?’
I nodded. ‘I was, but I’m taking some time off at the moment.’
‘Oh. To do what? Are you going travelling or something?’ Keenan asked.
I glanced towards Aisling, who shook her head and said, ‘It’s your news to share, but I think they’ll be pleased.’
‘What’s going on?’ Keenan said. ‘Oh. You’re pregnant?’
I laughed. ‘Are you saying I’m fat?’
‘No. Just…’
I laughed at his red cheeks. ‘I’m so not pregnant. You have to be having sex with someone to get pregnant.’ I laughed again at both their shocked expressions. ‘Sorry. Way too much information to share with my brothers who I haven’t seen for 17 years. No. I’m not pregnant, but I am bringing up a baby at the moment. It might be back-story time…’ They listened in stunned silence as I told them my side of the story, from my relationship with Daran right through to reuniting with Shannon and looking after Luke. It took every bit of diplomacy I could muster to avoid painting Da in his true colours, but it wasn’t right to speak so ill of him when he was only just cold, and I had no idea what their relationship had been like until the recent divorce debacle.
My twin brothers were obviously pretty astute, though. ‘It’s good to hear your side at last,’ Éamonn said, ‘and thank you for not dwelling on the part Da played. I think I can fill in the blanks.’
‘Sorry. I tried.’
‘We appreciate it.’ Keenan rubbed a hand across his stubble. ‘So, that would make us both… what?… uncles and great-uncles?’
I thought for a moment, ‘Yes. Shannon’s uncles and Luke�
�s great-uncles.’
‘That’s pretty special,’ Éamonn said.
‘It sure is,’ Keenan agreed.
Another silence descended, and I let it rest for a while so that they could chew over the implications of family lost and family found. I studied their pale faces. I could see so much of Da in them, in terms of physical looks, but there was something in the way they held themselves that reminded me more of myself: someone who’d taken a battering but was trying to prove to the world that they were strong and could take whatever else life threw at them. I saw it especially in Keenan. As if aware I was focusing on him, he said, ‘I take it Aisling told you I’m getting divorced?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I think it’s time for your back-stories now.’
We spent the next three hours in the pub eating and chatting, until the live music started and it became impossible to talk. We dwelled very little on our childhood, instead focusing on the paths our lives had taken since. I liked them, but I didn’t feel the same instant affinity with my brothers that I’d felt with Aisling, despite them being closer to my age, at four years older than me compared to her six. I knew I held some wariness towards them from what Aisling had told me about them being very religious and, despite the impending divorce, it was clear they did hold strong Catholic beliefs and were struggling to understand why I… shock, horror… had no man in my life to provide for me. I held my own, though, and made it very clear that I had been and always would be fiercely independent and, if they judged that, then they needed to pause a moment and think about why I’d become that way.
When we said our goodbyes, I suspected we wouldn’t become the closest of siblings, but a truce had certainly been called, and they clearly had an interest in getting to know their new family members.
‘The wake’s probably going to be Thursday and Friday and the funeral Saturday,’ Aisling said, after the twins had gone. ‘You’ll be coming?’
‘I don’t know whether I should. I won’t be welcome.’
Aisling shrugged. ‘I can tell you right now that, from Ma’s perspective, a dose of the clap would be more welcome than you at Da’s wake.’ She smiled and I laughed at the crudeness of her comment – the sort of thing I’d come out with.
Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3) Page 22