The Space Between Us

by Anna McPartlin

  God, I miss him so much it actually makes me want to vomit and it makes me feel really bad for being so horrid to you all this time about Declan. Finally I know what you mean and every stupid love song I ever hated has meaning and makes me ache. I actually started to cry in the café the other morning when the Smiths’ ‘There Is A Light That Never Goes Out’ came on the radio. Remember how I used to think it was fatalistic bullshit? Well, suddenly the image of being hit by a bus or a truck with Ben by my side seemed plausibly heavenly and when I say I cried, I bawled – big fat tears. Terry the Tourist’s mother was in having tea and scones with some English pal of hers, a very proper lady called Vera, and they both came over and comforted me, thinking someone had died, which is ironic because if Ben’s ‘old bat’ granny would actually die then I’d get Ben back and I wouldn’t have to be crying at stupid songs on the stupid radio.

  Declan is fine. I don’t really remember how he was that day after the fight with his dad, maybe a bit quiet, but then we had that conversation and he seemed fine. Why are you freaking out about it? I fight with Danny all the time and God knows you fight with your mother. It’s what teenagers and parents do, Lily!

  I haven’t really got a lot of news. Paul is never around and Gar is seeing another new girl, again from Bray, and Declan told me it’s the other girl’s friend and that’s why they broke up. He decided he preferred her friend and her friend went off with him happily. Can you believe it? Gar’s a big stud in Bray. It’s weird, he seems way more confident and happier. We’re getting on really well when he’s around. He called into the coffee shop the other day and he was in great form. He says his new girlfriend is amazing in bed and I said EXCUSE ME as if he was trying to intimate that I wasn’t but he apologized and said he didn’t mean it like that and he was just happy that things were working out for us both, which I thought was really nice. I’ll miss Gar when I’m in London. He’s a good friend. He said he’s going to help me move some of my designs from my bedroom to the garage. I can’t even get into my wardrobe there’s so much stuff there, and Clooney’s not here and Danny mumbles about a sore back every time I mention it. I told him I’d make dinner. I hope he likes beans on toast.

  I’ve been spending a lot of time with Declan in the past few days. I have my lunch hour at three in the coffee shop and he has his at three too so we sit on the side of the street and eat sandwiches together. He said he hasn’t heard from you and he’s really worried. I told him you were probably busy but when I mentioned that Clooney was down there he got a bit shirty. I told him to relax – you’d swear Clooney had headed down there to ravish you the way Declan was acting. I explained, just in case he was thinking anything weird, that Clooney might as well be your older brother, and I told Declan that you loved him and would never do anything to hurt him, and I even mentioned that I had tried to get you to leave him a number of times and you wouldn’t. First he got really annoyed and then he laughed, saying I was weird. I prefer the word honest. WHATEVER. Anyway, he seemed to calm down. Jesus, Lily, you really need to call him because he’s up to ninety about it. Other than that he’s fine, not as uptight about his results as he was. He said he’s just going to hope for the best and if he doesn’t get in he’s going to freak out then, which is a much better plan than freaking out now. It’s weird that Declan and I are working two shops away from one another and spending time together. I really didn’t know him before, Lily, and I still think he’s arrogant, has a pole up his arse and he’s way too intense, but for the first time I see what you see in him. He’s kind. I mentioned I thought a certain bolt looked brilliant and I could use it in my designs, and since then he’s been collecting odd-looking scrap metals for me and he has a really good eye. He gave me so many bits and pieces that I ended up making a necklace with some of them and some wire and a woman stopped me on the street and asked me where I bought it. He’s going to keep giving me bits he thinks might work in clothes or jewellery. I swear there is a bolt that I know would make a cool ring. I just have to think about how to do it. And he’s funny, he’s very dry, it’s like he talks and you either think what a dick or you realize he’s joking and laugh. The other day he said I’d be a great seamstress! I nearly punched him in the face until I realized he wasn’t trying to put me down, he just didn’t know what a designer is. I explained and he was nice about it although I’m not sure he gets it. If it’s not medicine or law he seems a little lost. His dad passed us on the street the other day when we were sitting there and he was drunk as a skunk – he dragged me up off the pavement and started dancing around with me. He was just messing but Declan got really annoyed. He pushed his dad off me and his dad pushed him back, then pointed at him and laughed. There was some big match on so his dad went off with a friend to do a little more celebrating and gave Declan the rest of the day off but when he left Declan kept working. He’s hilarious. What a swot!

  It’s been a really quiet week, boring to be honest. I really miss you. Gina says hi. She hasn’t really been around – she’s working late nights and spending most of the day in bed, which is a pain. Tell Clooney that Danny and me miss his spag bol and don’t worry about Colm, it’ll blow over soon – look at me and Gar, two months ago we weren’t even talking.

  Love

  A very bored Eve

  Oh and my top four are as follows:

  1. Friday The 13th (for the same reason as you. Remember halfway through it Clooney jumped up behind you and said boo and you lifted out of the seat and started crying? Priceless)

  2. Nightmare on Elm Street (because I’m not a baby)

  3. Fright Night (if it had been my choice it wouldn’t be in my top four – I’d pick Psycho or When a Stranger Calls. Vampires are retarded)

  4. The Lost Boys (I love it but it’s a comedy not a horror)

  The more complex Declan’s emotions, the more irritable and irrational he became. His wife was cheating on him with her old best friend and her brother. Those two had nearly destroyed Declan and Lily’s relationship in 1990 and she was hiding her new friendship with them from him. He should have said something. He should have told her he knew about Eve and sat her down and asked why she would keep Eve’s presence a secret or why she had handled the situation as she had. He should have been kind and understanding and spoken to her about how and what she felt on seeing her old friends again. He should have sympathized and empathized. After all, twenty years had passed and twenty years is a long time. He had built a life with her and they had two children together, which counted for something. He should have gone to see Eve and made it right with her. He should have shaken Clooney’s hand and let bygones be bygones. We all make mistakes. Of course, his stubbornness, vanity and paranoia prevented him doing any of it. There had been a time in Declan’s life when he had trusted Lily with every thought in his head, every hidden secret, every fear and shame. Then he had been a deeply traumatized, lonely boy, desperate to escape a life of misery. When his father had tortured him and his mother ignored him he had gained strength from Lily’s love. He had believed in her and trusted her completely. She had broken that trust only once and that was enough to ensure he never fully trusted her again. He had sworn he’d forgiven her and had begged her forgiveness, but he was a liar. Not only did he not forgive her sins, he blamed her for any sins he’d committed as a result of her breaking his trust because if she hadn’t … he wouldn’t have … It could have all been so different. Fucking Eve and Clooney Hayes! If I thought I could get away with it I’d have them both killed.

  If Declan had been another kind of man he would have taken his wife in his arms, told her he loved her and asked if she was happy. If she wasn’t, what could he do to make a difference? It might have worked. Lily might have opened up and told him she needed space to breathe; she was sick of feeling like a slave to him and the kids. She wanted their sex life to be more about love than service. She wanted him to consider her feelings and to stop treating her and the rest of the world like his enemy. But you can’t change just because a person
asks you to. Maybe that was why Declan didn’t confront his wife. Maybe he knew that she would use it as an excuse to try to change him and the way they lived when he liked life as it was. He didn’t want anything to change. He didn’t know how to change. It wasn’t possible and, anyway, who was Lily to tell him he needed to change? She had spent eighteen years calling him paranoid, and maybe sometimes she had been right, but this time he wasn’t paranoid: he was right. Declan didn’t say anything to his wife because even though a tiny part of him was whispering, You’ll lose her, the bigger part, the egotistical, arrogant, paranoid and angry part, was screaming, She’s making a fool of you so sort the bitch out and end this!

  Every day that passed, every look between them, every word unspoken, every lie he elicited from her lips cemented his fury and fuelled his thirst for justice. Declan Donovan was bubbling and it was only a matter of time before he reached boiling point. Then all hell would break loose and Lily would suffer his wrath but it would be over. Never once, as paranoid as Declan Donovan was, did he think his wife would walk away. I won’t let her.

  When the cast on Eve’s right leg came off, it was a cause for a mini-celebration. Lily brought a little cake with a candle, which she made Eve blow out before she wrapped it up so that she and Clooney could eat it later. Eve’s shoulder was improving every day and it meant that she could start to walk with crutches. Her shoulder ached but she was determined and her first attempt at walking – aborted after six steps and a dizzy spell – was considered a resounding success. The first day she didn’t have to be lifted in and out of bed brought tears of joy, not least because she wouldn’t have to listen to Norman say, ‘A h-aon, a dó, a trí. It’s the little things.’

  Her first real bath felt as though she was submerged in what the religious would call Heaven. Her first shower, although she was forced to sit down and was accompanied by a nurse called Monica, was truly blissful. The water tumbled down on her and it felt like she was in a tropical storm. Remember, Ben, when I told you about my time in Kenya with Clooney? This is what it felt like. She often talked to Ben even though he wasn’t listening. She just liked to say his name. Sometimes she’d give out to him, like when her bowels refused to co-operate and she was stuck on the loo for an hour looking at the poster on the door that had a picture of a brown sack with ‘biohazard’ written on it and two syringes. It read: ‘Reminder: Dispose of Hazards properly.’ I’m trying Ben. I am trying. I feel like I’m pushing out a baby here. By the way, I’m sorry you never got to be a dad. I think you would have been a good one. Sometimes she’d tell him about Adam. He’s nice, Ben, he’s kind and he laughs when I talk. Sometimes when I’m attempting humour, sometimes when I’m deadly serious. I entertain him. I like it. When she had been worked hard by her physiotherapist and she was sweating, hurting and exhausted, she’d fall into her clean white hard bed, close her eyes and talk to him about what could have been. I should have offered to bail you out. I should have invested in you instead of screwing you so I guess I screwed you twice. You could have saved your business so your and Fiona’s lives would have returned to normal. Where are you now, Ben? Are you somewhere or nowhere? Was being unplugged your full stop? Did you know it was happening? Did you hear them cry? Did you call out in your head for more time or were you happy to let go? Are you gone? It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me. I’m sorry, Ben. I’m sorry for being weak and stupid and selfish and I know you are too.

  When she opened her eyes after an hour or two of sleep she’d focus on the poster in her room.

  The Message Is the Same in Any Language!

  Operite Ruke

  Lavarsi le Mani

  Lavese las Manos

  Xin Hay Rura Tay

  WASH YOUR HANDS

  Then she’d turn to the window. Ah, there you are, Patty. She’d check the time and she’d turn on the TV. It’s two o’clock and that’s Ellen time. Ben, did you ever watch Ellen? She rocks. For someone who never watched TV, Eve had a new-found respect for the medium. She watched shows she’d never seen before, like American cop shows: Bones – funny; and Criminal Minds – freaky. She liked hospital shows, like Grey’s Anatomy and House, mostly because she could identify with the people in the beds, but her absolute favourite were the chat shows. They were a revelation, and even though she didn’t know some of the guests, the hosts themselves were the stars. People like Ellen, Graham Norton, Piers Morgan and Conan O’Brien became Eve’s new friends.

  Adam called in most days to sit and chat, and even though she’d threatened not to speak to him when he refused to discharge her on her original deadline, she had forgiven him and they had become close.

  ‘What are you doing later?’ she asked one day, after Ellen and before Coronation Street.

  ‘I’m going on a date,’ he said.

  ‘Blind or with someone you actually know and like?’

  ‘Blind.’

  ‘What do you know about her?’

  ‘She’s forty-five, divorced, two kids and owns her own bakery.’

  ‘OK, so she’s older, has children who will no doubt hate you, and she sells fatty food. Sounds like a dream come true. What does she look like?’

  ‘I told you it’s a blind date.’

  ‘So you haven’t even seen a picture?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then don’t bother going,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked, laughing.

  ‘Attraction is based on looks and if you don’t like the way she looks, no matter how nice she is, an hour spent making small-talk won’t make a difference.’

  ‘That sounds shallow,’ he said.

  ‘I prefer accurate and, besides, I know you like them pretty.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Lily,’ she said, and smiled. ‘You have a thing for her. Don’t worry, most men do.’

  Adam blushed, and stuttered, ‘I – I – I –’

  ‘Here’s the thing. Even if Lily wasn’t unhappily married, and we both know she is, you’re not her type.’

  Adam gasped, shocked that Eve could be so blunt. ‘How do you know that?’ he said, attempting to sound merely interested rather than concerned.

  ‘Because you’re my type. We always had opposite tastes in men and still do.’

  ‘I’m your type?’

  ‘Most definitely. You see, Lily likes her men square and broad. She likes the V-neck-jumper-and-deckshoe-wearing guy with a stripy shirt for good measure. She likes the average bear and you are not the average bear, and I like that about you.’

  ‘I’m touched.’

  ‘No, you’re not – you’re sad because you know I’m right about Lily. She’s never looked at you in that way. There’s no sexual tension between you, and even though you could look at her all day, she doesn’t see you as anything more than her friend.’