by Maria Duffy
‘Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?’
Donna looked at her sister, startled by the question. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, this situation. Do you think we’ll ever get out of this goddamn awful situation?’
‘I often wonder that myself,’ said Donna, breaking a piece off a lemon slice and popping it into her mouth. ‘But unless either of us meets the man of our dreams who’ll whisk us off to a castle, I’m guessing that this is it for the foreseeable future.’
Tina continued. ‘But don’t you want more? Look at Lexie and how she’s spread her wings. Her life sounds wonderful compared to the drudgery we live every day.’
Donna was alarmed at Tina’s words. ‘That’s not like you, Tina. I thought you were happy enough with how things are.’
‘Happy enough. That’s exactly it. It’s just sometimes I feel life is passing me by. Do you think I aspire to being a cleaner? I’d rather cut my hands off than do that for the rest of my life.’
‘Tina! What’s got into you?’
‘Sorry, Donna. I think it was that last postcard from Lexie that did it. It really unsettled me.’
Donna glanced at the postcard of Monkey Mia on the fridge. It was a beach in Western Australia where Lexie had just spent a couple of weeks.
‘I’d just love to be brave enough to do what she did,’ continued Tina. ‘But it’s not really an option with … you know …’
‘Mam, you mean?’
‘Well, yes. Mam and you. I know she’s not much good, but I don’t think I’d feel right heading over to the other side of the world and leaving her. You know how much like a child she is most of the time. And it certainly wouldn’t be fair to leave you to look after her.’
Donna began to panic a little. Was Tina hinting? Looking for her approval to go off and see the world? Donna didn’t really want to travel but the thought of staying here on her own and looking after her mother was the scariest thing she could imagine. Tina obviously noticed her face and was quick to reassure her.
‘Don’t worry, Donna. I’m not going to leave. Maybe some day I will, but not as things are. I’ll just keep planning and some day, even if it’s when I’m old and grey, I’ll do it.’
‘Where would you go?’ Donna was relieved that it was nothing but a dream for Tina.
‘Oh, I’d go everywhere. Do you want to see my route?’
‘Your route?’
Tina jumped up from the table and opened a drawer. ‘Yes. It’s my dream travel itinerary. I’d go to Perth, where Lexie is, and then move on to see the rest of Australia, then New Zealand and a few more stops before the US.’
‘Wow! You really did plan it all, didn’t you?’ Donna looked in amazement at the well-thought-out pages that her sister put in front of her. ‘It looks fantastic.’
‘It’s just a dream at the moment,’ Tina said, sadly. ‘But one day I might make it happen.’
‘What’s that you have there?’
The voice startled them both and they looked up to see their mother standing at the bottom of the stairs.
‘I thought you were still in bed, Ma,’ said Donna, hopping up to stick the kettle on. ‘Do you want a cup of tea? Something to eat?’
‘Why don’t I make us some sandwiches and you make the tea? I see you’ve made some bread, Donna. There’s a bit of cheese in the fridge that’ll go nicely with it.’
Both girls stared at their mother. It felt strange for her to be sober – to be looking after them for a change. Strange but nice.
Donna was first to speak. ‘I’ll look after the bread. It’s still a bit warm so might be tricky to cut.’
‘Grand. And don’t bother with tea for me, love. I’ll have the end of that white wine. You can’t have cheese without wine.’
Donna’s heart sank. It was lovely to see glimpses of their ‘nice’ mother but sadly they were just that – glimpses. Tina had been quiet during the exchange and Donna noticed tears in her eyes.
‘So go on,’ said Catherine, filling her glass to the brim. ‘What’s all that, then?’
Tina quickly folded her precious list and stuffed it in her pocket. ‘Just dreams, Ma. Nothing but my dreams.’
* * *
‘I’m going to quit the job, Mum. I’m leaving to go and do some travelling.’
Will fell silent to let his parents digest the words. It was the day after Jack’s funeral and they were sitting in the dining room having dinner. He’d been rehearsing what he was going to say all day but his mind was made up, no matter what his parents said.
‘Don’t be silly, William.’ His mum was as dismissive as ever. ‘You’ve had an emotional few days. You’re not thinking straight.’
‘Your mum is right,’ said his dad, never one to have his own opinion. ‘This is not a time to be making important decisions.’
Will wasn’t going to be fobbed off. ‘But that’s where you’re both wrong. I’ve never felt so sure about anything in all my life. You know I’ve always wanted to travel but I’ve been putting it off for … well, you know …’
‘Well, I hope you don’t mean you’ve been putting it off for us, William,’ his mother sniffed. ‘All we’ve ever done is offer you the best opportunities in life.’
Will clenched his fist under the table. Offer him, she said. They may have offered him the opportunities, but they pushed, coerced and pressurised him into taking them.
She continued. ‘And we’ve always wanted what’s best for you – sometimes I think we know you better than you know yourself. And right now, the best thing for you is to stay in a routine and work hard. Jack would have wanted you to be successful in your career.’
‘You see, that’s where you’re wrong!’ Will was aware his voice was raised but he needed them to understand. ‘He wanted me to be successful, but not necessarily in my career. In life.’
‘Isn’t that the same thing?’
Will looked at his mother and felt a glimmer of pity for her. ‘No, Mum. It’s not. Success can be interpreted in a whole lot of ways. Success to me means happiness. I want to be happy. Jack wanted me to be happy.’
‘Don’t you be getting all philosophical on me, William Cooper-Smith.’ His mother sniffed, pushing her half-empty plate away. ‘And are you telling us now that you’re not happy?’
Will nodded his head but couldn’t look his mother in the eye.
‘Well? Are you happy or not?’
‘No, Mum. I’m not happy. I’ve always felt … I don’t know … incomplete, I suppose. I need to get out and see some of the world. I need to find out what makes me happy.’
‘And what about Laura?’ It was his father’s turn to try and make him see sense. ‘Is she going with you on this little trip of yours?’
‘I had a chat with Laura last night after the funeral. We’ve agreed to go our separate ways.’
‘You see!’ Vivienne stood up suddenly, startling both Will and his father. ‘It’s the grief. You can’t go making rash decisions while you’re mourning.’
‘Sit down, Mum. I’m not mourning. Well, I am, but it’s got nothing to do with the decisions I’m making. If anything, I’m seeing things more clearly now. I don’t love Laura and it was never going to work.’
His mother sat down and sighed. ‘But you’ve been going out with her for the last year. And she’s from such a good family.’
There it was – the class thing rearing its head again. He had to bite his tongue for fear he’d say something he’d regret. But to his surprise, his father jumped in.
‘Vivienne, love, leave the lad alone. If Will says he didn’t love the girl, well then he’s doing the right thing by leaving her.’
‘But at least he should wait until the grief goes away – not make all these rash decisions.’
His father spoke again. ‘We’ve got to let him live his life, love. He’s twenty-two years old. We can’t hold on to him forever if he wants to spread his wings.’
Both Will and his mother stared at his father and Will f
elt a lump in his throat. He’d never heard his father stick up for him. He usually went along with whatever his mother said to keep the peace. But Will could see his mother was about to object again so he decided to jump in.
‘Dad’s right, Mum.’ He reached over and patted her hand. ‘I need to spread my wings. I’m not going to go away forever and I won’t be going for a while yet but I know I definitely need to go.’
Tears formed at the corners of Vivienne Cooper-Smith’s eyes and Will realised that he’d barely ever seen his mother cry, except tears of rage when something didn’t go her way.
‘I’m sorry, son, if we haven’t made you happy. Where will you go?’
‘It’s nothing you’ve done, Mum.’ There was no point in making her feel worse. ‘There’s just something inside me that wants to travel and see the world before I settle down. And I’m thinking Australia. I’m not sure exactly where yet but I’m going to look into it.’
‘Don’t you need visas and the likes for over there?’ said his father, who looked relieved that the conversation had calmed down.
‘Yes, and that’s why I won’t be going for a while. I’d also like to continue working for the next few months and get together as much cash as I can. I’ll probably do some work while I’m away but I don’t want to feel under pressure to work all the time.’
His father nodded. ‘That sounds like a sensible plan. Don’t you think, Vivienne?’
The stony look had returned to her face, all traces of vulnerability gone. ‘I suppose so. I’ll have to start looking for a replacement so you’ll have to give me proper dates. It’s all a bit inconvenient.’
‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’ll keep you informed every step of the way.’ He got up from the table and kissed his mother on the cheek. ‘And don’t think I’m not grateful for everything you’ve given me. Because I am. It’s just time for me to stand on my own two feet.’
He didn’t wait for an answer but headed up the stairs to his room. When he had the door closed behind him, he flopped down on the bed and breathed a sigh of relief.
‘I did it, Jack, I did it,’ he whispered. ‘I’m finally free and it’s the best feeling in the world!’
Chapter 9
February 2009
‘I swear, I’m going to kill that woman.’ Donna stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door so hard, the room shook.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Tina, turning from the mirror where she was applying her eye-shadow. ‘And take it easy on the door, will you. We can’t afford repairs on top of the rest of the bills.’
Donna lay down on her bed and began to cry. ‘What do you think happened? Mam happened!’
‘What has she done now?’ Tina came over and sat beside her and stroked her hair. ‘You’ve got to stop letting her get to you like this.’
‘I can’t help it.’ Donna sniffed. ‘She’s getting worse. She’s just spilt half a bottle of red wine over my recipes. She was so drunk when she was pouring it that she completely missed the glass.’
‘Oh no. Not the ones you’ve been collecting? Are they ruined?’
‘Well of course they’re ruined. It was bloody red wine! All the ones Lexie sent me and everything.’ She started crying again. Living with her mother was just like living with a bad flatmate – most of the time she could ignore her but now and again she’d do something to make her want to scream.
Catherine O’Neill was a full-blown alcoholic. The two girls had tried over the years to help her to get sober. They’d tried to get her to see sense and when that hadn’t worked, they’d tried to force her into a detox programme at home. But nothing had worked and for the last number of years they’d just accepted the status quo. She’d drink most days – usually whatever cheap wine or spirits she could get her hands on – and then sleep it off for twelve or more hours at night. Tina was now the adult in the house.
‘Look, I won’t go out tonight,’ said Tina, breaking into Donna’s thoughts. ‘I can’t leave you here like this. Not when she’s home.’
Donna sat up and wiped her eyes. ‘Don’t be silly. Your night is all planned. You deserve some time out.’
‘But look at the state of you. No, I’m not going anywhere. And in fact, I think you should get out yourself. Go and stay with one of your friends for the night. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on her.’
‘That’s not fair on you, Tina. I couldn’t …’ But Donna already knew she would. She needed to get out of there. She felt a bit mean about it, since Tina had planned to go out, but she reckoned she needed the escape more than Tina tonight.
‘Go on,’ said Tina. ‘Pack yourself an overnight bag.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Now go! I wasn’t in much form for going out really. I fancy an early night with a good book.’
Donna threw her arms around her sister. ‘You’re a star, do you know that? What would I do without you?’
‘Well, hopefully you’ll never have to find out.’
Donna couldn’t get out of there quick enough. She knew she’d be fine again tomorrow but sometimes she just got overwhelmed with everything and needed some time out. She had a number of friends she could go to but the one she really wanted to see tonight was Jan. Jan lived just a few short bus stops away in Cabra West and Donna had stayed there a few times in the past when she’d felt the need to get away. It was different for Tina. She had a better tolerance for their mother than Donna had. Or maybe she just bottled it all up. But either way, she seemed okay about staying home so Donna wouldn’t let herself feel too guilty.
She peeped into the sitting room as she headed for the front door and saw her mother had dozed off, her glass of wine tilted in such a way it was dripping slowly on the wooden floor. Stupid woman. Not for the first time, Donna imagined what life would be like for her and Tina if her mother wasn’t around. It was like having a baby to look after. But the strange thing was, she didn’t hate her. She hated what she’d become and she hated the fact that she didn’t really care about either girl, but Donna also knew that some part of her still loved her mother. But not tonight. She made sure she slammed the front door on the way out.
* * *
Will sat back on his sun lounger and raised his face up to the sun. God, he loved it here. Coming to Perth was the best thing he’d ever done. For a while, he hadn’t thought he’d go through with it because his mother had thought of a million reasons why he shouldn’t go. But he had just kept thinking of Jack and his last piece of advice to him and he’d overruled all his mother’s concerns.
He’d been there for the last two months. After an initial few nights in a hostel in Perth city centre while he was getting his bearings, he’d rented a mobile home on a site just off the beach. It was glorious. He couldn’t get over the blue skies and sea and the warm, golden sand. It was like a paradise.
He’d found himself a job very quickly, picking fruit at a farm a few miles outside Perth. He’d needed a car for that so he’d bought himself an ancient Toyota. It was rusty and chugged a lot but it did what he needed it to do. The job paid okay but he earned his money. He’d start at five some mornings and spend eight hours picking fruit with very few breaks. It was a tough job, done in forty-degree heat with the smell of chicken manure filling the air and flies buzzing incessantly in his face. He’d no intention of doing that for long – just long enough to build up some more cash for his travelling fund.
He was also doing a few shifts in an Irish bar in the city and, although it didn’t pay as well as the farm job, he really enjoyed it. He loved meeting new people and the bar job allowed him to do just that. The staff were a mixture of Irish and Aussies and all equally as friendly. He’d also reinvented himself by dropping the ‘Cooper’ from his name. He was just plain old Will Smith now, which always elicited a giggle from both punters and staff. There was just something about Perth. It felt like Ireland in a way, in that it was fairly laid back and the people were friendly, but it also had a buzz about it – a sense of excitement
in the air. Or maybe that was just him. He was excited to be fulfilling his dream at last. He knew he wanted to move on at some stage but, at the moment, there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be.
He felt a slight chill from a breeze coming in from the sea and realised it was getting late. He had a shift starting at eight in the bar so he’d need to get himself organised. But he had time for a quick walk on the beach so he locked the door of his little mobile home and headed down towards the sand.
He looked out at the clear blue sea as he walked and thought how Jack would have loved it here. A group of them used to go out to Dollymount Strand when they were teenagers and Jack would make them go into the freezing water and tell them to close their eyes and imagine they were on a tropical island. It had never worked – and they used to go almost blue with the cold – but Jack would laugh and say that they were all wimps. Will felt tears well up in his eyes as he thought of his friend.
The first anniversary of his death had just passed and Will had felt very lonely that day. He’d rung home and chatted to both his mum and dad and then spoke to Tessa, who’d been very down in the dumps. The poor girl hadn’t picked herself up at all since her boyfriend’s death and Will had felt slightly guilty for getting on with his life. But he also knew Jack would be happy if he saw him now. Maybe he did see him. Maybe he was looking at him now and saying: ‘Good on ya, Will. You grew yourself a pair!’ Will smiled at the thought and his good mood returned. He checked his watch and saw he just had half an hour to shower and be in work.
As he walked back towards his new home, he thought about his job back in Ireland. He remembered getting up to grey skies and going in every morning to a busy office with no windows. It was no wonder he hated that life. There was definitely something in the theory that sunlight improved the mood. The bar he worked in was bright and airy and had a whole section of tables outside. His boss, Brendan, was an easy-going sort and Will had clicked with him straight away. He’d often say to him: ‘Hey, Will. You can work on the tables outside. You Irish need to get a bit of sun on your bones.’ Brendan was a full-blown Aussie but married to an Irish girl. Will had yet to meet her but she sounded like a good laugh and Brendan was completely besotted with her.