The Woman at 72 Derry Lane

by Carmel Harrington

  We looked towards what was left of the beach. The huts we’d passed by earlier that morning were now gone, in a tangled mosh pit lost in the sea.

  ‘It’s gone quiet now,’ Mam said.

  ‘The screams have stopped,’ Dad replied.

  We looked at each other in recognition of what this meant.

  The thought struck us all at the same time. People were dead. What if Eli was one of them?

  ‘Let’s go find our boy,’ Dad said. ‘We need to head to the shore. He said go high, that’s where he’ll be.’

  I felt panic take over all rational thought. I simply could not let go of the tree.

  ‘No! Let’s stay here, together,’ I said.

  ‘Love, your dad’s right. We’ll get out of the water and we’ll go as high as we can, and we’ll find Eli. It will take more than this bugger of a sea to take us out. We’ll be grand, don’t you worry.’

  ‘I don’t want you to let me go,’ I whispered and felt tears come.

  ‘Oh love, we’ll never let you go. I’d rather die than let you go,’ Mam replied and kissed me on my forehead. ‘But now, you have to be brave. Promise me and your dad, that you will be brave, no matter what. That you’ll keep fighting to get to high ground, no matter what. That you’ll not stop, you’ll just keep going.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Say it!’ she said and I said it as loud as I could.

  ‘I promise.’

  They kissed each other, then kissed me and we let go of the branch and of each other.

  Chapter 23

  REA

  72 Derry Lane, Dublin, 2014

  Rea was having a bad morning. The house that normally gave her comfort felt oppressive and closed in. The silence of her loneliness overwhelmed her. This house, which she loved so much, with generations of noise embedded into its very fabric, taunted her with its radio silence.

  ‘You have only yourself to blame.’

  ‘Snap out of it. You’re not even trying to beat this … this … whatever the hell it is!’

  ‘What on earth is wrong with you?’

  ‘I’m here, dammit, why aren’t I enough for you!’

  ‘This isn’t living!’

  George’s voice bounced off the silence, splintering her heart once more, as they had the first time he’d uttered them. Her shame clawed at her, from the inside out, she wanted to rip her skin off and get to her bones.

  Silence is a noise. People don’t realise that, until their lives are filled with it. For her, the pounding of its drum, non-stop, berated her shame, her regret, her fear.

  Her family tried hard to understand. But how could she make them understand when she couldn’t herself? So she closed her heart as best she could and she told herself that it was better this way.

  When George left, pleading with her to go with him, to leave this house and be with their family, she felt something give inside of her. She closed the door to their house, turning her back on the man she had loved for decades. Stuck in her own silent hell of grief and torment.

  That’s as it should be.

  But today, this morning, she was restless and on edge. Seeing Stella these past few days had unnerved her. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed the company of others. And there was something about Stella … she reminded her of Elise.

  She looked at the clock and watched the second hand crawl, willing it to be noon when Stella was due to call. She hoped Stella would have time for a cup of tea and a chat.

  She walked around the house, moving from room to room, straightening cushions that were already lined up perfectly. Elise’s bedroom looked so pretty with its pinkand-white duvet set. Elise had chosen it herself many years ago. And it suited the room. Painted orchid white, with heavy white shutters lining the large window frame. Her oversized beige rabbit that her dad had won at a summer fair sat askew on the bed, its big eyes taking it all in.

  The floorboards, which had been sanded back and varnished many times over the years, missed the children who had sat and played on them almost as much as Rea had. She walked over and lifted the small waste bin that Elise had placed over a certain spot, where she’d spilt her hot-pink nail polish. Rea had never let on that she knew about it. Children need some secrets from their parents. They need to feel a win every now and then.

  She opened the door to Luca’s room and sighed. She knew she had to tackle this room one day soon. It was filled with clutter, accumulated junk from years of being house-bound. Broken kettles, saucepans, old clothes, even a bike. Things that had no right being there. Things that normal people move to the recycling centres, not leave to gather dust in their eldest child’s bedroom. A pain of loss stabbed her. She missed him so much. What she would do right now to hold him, to hug him, to tease him. But they hadn’t spoken now in over a year. The Skype calls had dwindled from weekly to monthly to nothing.

  He’d given up on her, but she couldn’t blame him, because she had given up on herself too.

  And then her day changed, dark to light in an instance, when Stella and Charlie arrived.

  ‘I hope this is a good surprise and not one of those ones that puts years on you!’ Charlie said. ‘I’ve heard so many lovely things about you from Stella.’

  Rea was gobsmacked when they walked into her kitchen. She couldn’t take her eyes off Charlie. He looked like he should be inside her television. His very presence just brought colour to the room.

  ‘Oh you were right, Stella, this is a gorgeous kitchen. Very retro. Shabby chic, I love it!’

  ‘What is going on?’ Rea asked as both Stella and Charlie placed bags and baskets onto her kitchen table.

  Stella walked over to Rea and held her two hands in between hers. ‘I wanted to do something to thank you for being so lovely to me. So I thought that maybe you might enjoy a little pampering. Charlie is my hairdresser and a dear friend. He’s going to do your hair for you! Any way you like it at all. And I’m going to prepare us lunch.’

  Rea’s face crumpled and she began to cry, sinking to one of her kitchen chairs again.

  Stella was crestfallen, ‘Oh Rea, I’m so sorry. You’re offended. I was afraid of that. We can leave.’

  ‘I’m not offended. I’m overwhelmed. I think this is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long, long time.’

  Stella felt tears well up too and pulled the woman into her for a hug. ‘Well, that’s something we had better work on changing. You deserve to be treated, often.’

  ‘Oh you ladies, would you stop. You’ll have my mascara running.’ Charlie cried too, walking over and putting his two arms around them both.

  ‘Is he always like this?’ Rea asked, craning her neck, looking upwards to him.

  ‘No, this is him being quite tame. He’s even more wonderful when you get to know him.’

  ‘And speaking of things that are not tame, what is going on with your hair, young lady?’ Charlie touched the greying frizz of Rea’s hair and tutted.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s been quite some time since I visited a hairdresser’s. It’s a bit of a mess.’

  ‘Well, never you fear, Charlie is here now.’ He burst into laughter at that.

  ‘Told you,’ Stella whispered to Rea.

  Charlie walked over to one of the photographs that were on Rea’s dresser. ‘Look at you, with that rich auburn hair! We need to return you to your former glory. You have a beautiful family, Rea.’

  How many times over the past thirty years had Rea felt pride when someone complimented her family? At mass on Sunday’s she beamed with joy as friends and neighbours remarked on Elise’s pretty face, her shiny hair, Luca’s long eyeslashes, their good manners, their funny one-liners. Her family. Her beautiful family. ‘Thank you,’ she answered Charlie finally. ‘Yes, they are.’

  Stella put the kettle on as Charlie went to work mixing his colour and applying it to Rea’s roots. ‘I’ll sort these out first, then I’ll put a nice semi in all over. Give you some shine and it’ll condition your hair too.’

  Rea sip
ped her coffee, whilst Stella painted her nails. ‘That polish is gorgeous. Do me next,’ Charlie said, ‘Your colour will need about thirty minutes to take, Rea, so just relax.’

  The time flew by, as the unlikely trio of friends chatted about everything and nothing. The mood was light, almost as if they were on holiday.

  Charlie took Rea to the bathroom to wash her hair and then returned to blow-dry it into soft waves, while Stella laid the table, singing to herself as she did.

  Charlie held up a small handheld mirror in front of Rea and told her to close her eyes. When instructed, she opened them and gasped when she saw herself.

  ‘Is that really me?’

  ‘Yes,’ Stella said, clapping her hands with delight.

  ‘Such gorgeous hair, a joy to work with,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Stunning,’ Stella agreed and Rea reached up to touch her hair.

  ‘It’s so soft.’

  ‘Not a frizzy mane in sight,’ Charlie said. ‘You’re like a movie star. What’s that woman called? The glamorous Italian?’

  ‘Sophia Loren?’

  ‘Yes! That’s who. Maybe not in those sweat pants, though!’

  ‘Can I keep him?’ Rea asked Stella, pointing to Charlie, who nodded in response, delighted to see them get on so well.

  ‘Oh do! You can adopt me and you’ll never have a grey hair again. On my honour!’

  Chapter 24

  REA

  ‘Hair like this deserves a special occasion,’ Charlie declared.

  Rea felt deflated all at once. They were going to try to talk her into going outside. Course they were. Just like everyone else who thought that it was as simple as a haircut to cure all.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ Stella asked, grinning.

  Rea felt herself begin to sweat. They needed to leave. But she didn’t want to be rude after their kindness. But the very thought of going outside made her want to vomit.

  Stella watched her and could see Rea’s whole countenance change. She was terrified.

  ‘What’s wrong, Rea?’ she asked gently.

  ‘You can’t make me go outside,’ Rea said firmly. ‘It’s unfair of you to ask.’

  Charlie walked over to her and caught her hand between his own. ‘Listen here to me, nobody is going anywhere. Who said a special occasion needs to be outside these four walls? Stella has prepared dinner for us already. But before we eat, I think we need something more. A musical. Yes, that’s what’s needed, a musical!’

  Rea’s mouth gaped open, she hadn’t expected that.

  ‘It just so happens I have the perfect one here, with me!’

  ‘Do you always carry around musicals on your person?’ Stella asked.

  Charlie spun around in an almost perfect pirouette and sang, ‘Yeesss …!’

  He started to rummage through his large bag of hair products and then pulled out a DVD. ‘A special collector’s edition of Les Miserables. Now, if there was ever a musical that defined romantic art on screen, this is it. Real people, resilient, with adversity bringing out the best of them. I’m telling you, you’ll not get a better emotional view of life than you will from this. You’ll be crying buckets!’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to cry,’ Rea said, finally finding her voice. ‘Have you not got something cheerier, like Calamity Jane maybe? Or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers? Now that’s a lovely upbeat one.’

  ‘No, it must be Les Miserables. Trust me. You’ll watch this and realise that no matter what, once you keep smiling, you can get through anything, all your troubles will be miles away …’

  ‘I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer,’ Stella said to Rea.

  ‘I’ll get some wine,’ Rea said in response. ‘And tissues, by the sounds of it.’

  They sat down, side by side, on Rea’s big comfy couch and Charlie hit play on the remote-control button. ‘This movie, it’s one you must watch with the right company. Us three girls together is just perfect!’

  Rea shook her head at this whirlwind that was Charlie, but inside, her heart hammered loudly. She realised with a start that this time it was with joy, not anxiety.

  ‘I’ve never seen this before, how crazy is that? Matt doesn’t like musicals.’

  ‘From what I can see, your Matt doesn’t like very much at all,’ Charlie said in response.

  ‘He’s a dickhead,’ Rea said under her breath.

  ‘Rea,’ Stella warned, but Charlie heard and was snorting with laughter. ‘Oh Rea, you tell it like it is! Don’t be sitting on any fence now!’

  ‘Sorry. It just slipped out,’ Rea said to Stella, genuinely regretting her comment. She had no idea what, if anything, Charlie knew about Stella’s situation.

  Charlie hit pause on the screen. ‘What am I missing here? You two are throwing looks at each other, doing the silent communication thing. I’m feeling left out. Go on, spill!’

  Stella looked at him and somehow or other knew she could trust him. It was as if the gate to her life was opening and, as she planned to run out of it, she was letting others in too.

  ‘Can I trust your discretion?’

  ‘Not everything needs to be talked about,’ Charlie answered solemnly. ‘One of my favourite quotes in life is from George Washington. He said, “Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”’

  ‘I’ve never heard that before,’ Rea said. ‘But how true.’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m not fishing, honestly,’ Charlie said, every trace of merriment gone from his face. ‘But I do care about you. You’ve been coming into my salon now for a long time, every week, and I’ve grown fond of you. I have eyes, I see your face when your husband is with you. And I see how you relax when he leaves.’

  ‘I’ve spent such a long time keeping secrets. I’m not sure how to share any more,’ Stella said.

  ‘People keep things on the inside because it’s the safest place to hide them,’ Rea said. They both turned to look at her. ‘That’s how it is for me, anyhow.’

  Charlie squeezed her hand in sympathy.

  Stella took a deep breath. ‘I called to Rea’s a few weeks ago and asked her for help. I took a chance that she would listen. She did.’

  Rea wondered if Stella knew how much she was helping her too.

  ‘My husband, Matt, or Dickhead, as Rea prefers to call him, has, in short, made my life a misery. I promise to tell you everything in time, but for now, all you need to know is that I’ve had enough. I don’t want to live in fear, alone, any more. I’m leaving him.’

  ‘Bravo,’ Charlie said. Then quietly he asked, ‘has he hurt you? That bruise on your neck, I knew it was more than clumsiness …’

  ‘Yes. That was him. It’s funny, the physical torture I can take a lot easier than the mental.’

  Stella shook her head. Her bloody husband wasn’t even here and somehow or other he was managing to still control how she spent her time. ‘Can we drop this for now? I want to watch this movie with two friends and not have him ruin it for me. He’s ruined far too much for me over the past year. Not this too. Please.’

  Charlie moved his hand across his lips and then pretended to place something in his pocket, ‘Zip it, lock it, put it in your pocket. Say no more.’ He laughed at their faces and explained, ‘Five-year-old nephew. It’s one of his phrases from school! Now, prepare to be amazed! Tissues?’

  They both answered, ‘Check!’

  ‘Wine?’

  ‘Check!’

  Then with a deep voice, as he pressed the remote control, he announced, ‘then we shall begin.’

  From the opening credits, as the camera swept over gilded warships battered with coastal waves, through all that followed, the suffering and the loss, the romance and the brutal drama, Rea and Stella held their breaths. Charlie spent his time watching them, then watching the movie, and shouting at them both every now and then, ‘this bit, wait until you see it!’ and ‘I knew it, you’re crying, I knew you’d be a
mess!’

  Every song ripped from the throats of the cast, and as they sang every line, it resonated through the room. And then, when One Day More came on, they both moved closer towards Charlie in the centre of the couch and he put an arm around each of them.

  He knew every single line and sang along, acting each piece as he did. His voice was good. As Rea said later, he sang it better than Russell or Hugh! With every word, every note, the room filled with emotion from them all. And in the final chorus, when the full cast sang, Charlie pulled them up to their feet and they all sang along,

  Tomorrow we’ll be far away,

  Tomorrow is the judgement day

  They collapsed in a heap on the sofa when the song ended and by the time the closing credits hit the screen they were all whooping and cheering, back on their feet, clapping and wiping their tears.

  Charlie rewound the DVD till he got to their favourite song again and hit play and Stella quickly added the mufeletta to the oven to warm through. As they all stood in front of the TV, singing along with the cast of Les Miserables, arm in arm, the door creaked opened. Charlie squealed and clutched the two ladies, but even so, pushed them behind him.

  Standing before them, looking slightly puzzled, was a tall, tanned man who looked oddly familiar. He had a large backpack that he placed on the ground in front of him.

  ‘What’s in the bag?’ Charlie gasped. Stella looked at Rea, and if she was surprised to see this person here, she didn’t show it. Also, Stella noted, she didn’t look one bit scared.

  ‘Are we being robbed?’ Charlie whispered.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Stella answered, never taking her eyes off Rea, who had stood up from the table and was walking towards the man, almost in a daze.

  She looked so small as she stood there, before him, reaching his chest. She stared at him, and he said in a voice choked with emotion, ‘Hello, Mam.’

  Chapter 25

  SKYE