The Woman at 72 Derry Lane

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘Thank you,’ she had whispered to Dil and he whispered something in Norwegian that she didn’t understand.

  Then she turned to Sven and he said, ‘I wanted to do this, from the very first time I saw you on the beach. When I took that photograph of you.’ He leaned in and kissed her gently on her lips.

  Her first kiss.

  She reached up and touched her lips and silently gave thanks for those two brothers and all they did to help her and many others.

  ‘Here, Miss,’ a Thai woman called Chaulai, said to Stella. ‘We light lanterns for those that die.’ She looked around her and saw hundreds all beginning to light their Chinese lanterns. Rea, George, Luca and Charlie all had one each in their hands.

  She looked down at hers, remembering another time, ten years ago, when she released a lantern into this clear night sky. Mam, Dad and Eli were standing by her side and they all watched as their lanterns floated up in the air. The sounds of Silent Night, sung by the Thai staff, made a beautiful moment magical.

  ‘Wish upon a star, my little Skye,’ Mam’s voice whispered to her.

  Okay Mam. I’ll try.

  Charlie nudged her gently, then handed her a marker. ‘Why don’t you write a message on it, before you let it go? Look, others are doing the same.’

  Rea wept softly, saying to George, ‘I’ve written her name a million times, but this … I can’t bear it.’

  ‘We’ll do it together,’ George said and Rea nodded.

  Stella sank to the ground, her hands shaking as she looked at her lantern. What should she say? It was time to say goodbye, she knew that much. Time to move on.

  So she wrote on the lantern three names, saying her goodbye to each of them as she did so.

  Mam

  Dad

  Eli

  Then she added one more name.

  Stella

  It was time to say goodbye to her too. And time to say hello to her new life.

  Luca walked over and lit her lantern for her, then lit his own. ‘We’ll let them go at the same time, okay?’

  She nodded and looked around her, as dozens of lanterns began their ascent up to the dark sky. With tears blurring her vision, she held her arms up high into the dark night and she let go.

  With the release, she fell to the sand and watched the lantern move across the black sky and with every inch away from her it floated, the lighter she felt.

  They were all mesmerised at the spectacular sight. Illuminated lanterns suspended against the starry sky. Stella reached out for Charlie’s hand and then Luca took her other one. She focused on the beauty of the sky, lit up with messages to lost loved ones.

  Stella whispered into the night air, ‘Goodbye Eli, I’ll never forget you. Thank you for taking such good care of me. You were the best brother I could ever have had. And don’t worry, your little sis isn’t scared any more. I’m going to live, really live, I promise you. I’m going to live for all of us. I’m going to find love, I’m going to have a family, just like you did, Mam and Dad, and I’m going to make a difference in their lives. I promise you. I’m going to live a good life, I’ll make you all so proud.’

  And when finally the lantern disappeared from her sightline, so did her ghosts. She turned her back to the water and started to make her way back to the hotel.

  ‘Hey, Irish!’ Jill shouted at her as she walked away. ‘You never told me your name.’

  She smiled, then shouted back, ‘My name is Skye Madden.’

  EPILOGUE

  72 Derry Lane, Dublin, 2017

  She paused at the front door, about to knock, when she heard voices in the back garden. Loud, noisy, happy chatter.

  She walked around the side of the house, opening the small gate and turned the corner. There she saw Rea, drinking a beer, an oversized sun hat on her head. They had their backs to her, so she could watch silently for a moment. Rea was laughing at something George said as he wrestled with a large barbecue. Charlie was nose to nose with his boyfriend having a smooch. He’d been on the scene for nearly six months now. Charlie thought he might be ‘the one’.

  And speaking of ‘the one’, Luca sensed her presence first. He turned slowly and smiled when he saw her standing there.

  ‘Hello, you,’ he said.

  Her stomach flipped as she walked over towards him, still not quite believing how things had turned out. But then he kissed her and any doubts she had disappeared.

  It was Charlie who manoeuvred their romance. They were having dinner one evening, months after she came home from France, when Charlie said, ‘If you don’t ask her out, I’m going to scream! And you … ‘he wagged a finger at Skye, ‘men like Luca Brady don’t stay single for long. You snap him up before anyone else does.’

  ‘The thing is, I don’t want anyone else. I want Skye,’ Luca had said. ‘I’m happy to wait until she’s ready. No rush.’

  Up until that moment, she’d not considered it. But afterwards, it was all she could think about. And so they began this new, romantic, all-encompassing, beautiful life together.

  And the best part of it was that it was easy. Being with Luca wasn’t hard work like it used to be with Matt. As Rea reminded her, that’s what love was supposed to be like.

  She had no idea what the future held. But for now, she was happy to take one day at a time. She had let go of the life she once thought was hers and accepted that now life was waiting for her, if she chose to grab it.

  Skye Madden was alive and she was living once more.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Hello my lovely readers,

  Thank you for choosing to read The Woman at 72 Derry Lane. The title has particular resonance for my family, you know. My grandparents’ cottage and the place where my father and aunt were born is on Derry Lane in The Ballagh, Co. Wexford. It’s the last link they have to their parents and very special to them. While 72 Derry Lane sits on a street in Dublin, it’s a house that was filled with great family love, just like my grandparents’ cottage was. I chose the street name to honour all the O’Gradys who lived in the original. 72 is also a number with special meaning as it was the house number of the first family home my mam and dad bought many years ago. A lot of love in that house too.

  I hope you enjoyed Rea, Stella and Skye’s stories. I suspect that parts of this book were difficult to read. My editors have described some scenes as raw, visceral and utterly heartbreaking. And I have to confess, that in writing those parts, my heart splintered. I had to remove myself from my family, from the children in particular, so I could do them justice. It made me question life and death, the randomness of fate that allows some to survive and others to die. But it also made me hopeful as I peeled back the layers of my characters and they revealed great strength, humanity, bravery, love and resilience.

  The intense human tragedy of the tsunami was one of the worst natural disasters of my time. I am sure, like me, you can remember exactly where you were when the news broke. I was with my parents and siblings in Wexford. Moments before, we’d been laughing, singing, teasing as we are wont to do when we get together, especially at Christmas. But the early images we saw unfold on our TV screen rendered us silent. I’ve never forgotten that day. I felt helpless and at a loss to understand what I was seeing. While the Madden family are fictional, please know that they were written to honour the 227,898 people who died and the tens of thousands who survived. My research was extensive, but please remember, this is a fictional account of a true event. All errors are mine and I hope you’ll forgive me for them.

  My research also took me behind the closed doors of domestic abuse victims and agoraphobics. I am grateful to every single person who spoke so honestly about their lives, who taught me and are now teaching others. There’s a very special woman I’d like to single out – Jill Stratton. Jill, you spoke so honestly about your own battles with agoraphobia and domestic abuse, I had to name a character in the book after you. She’s strong, fearless, funny, kind and a true survivor – just like you.

  And spea
king of names, for Rea Brady (oh I enjoyed writing her!) I borrowed her name from another Rea – Rea Sinfeld, who blogs as Rea’s Book Reviews. Several years ago, this lovely woman gave me the nickname the Queen of Emotional Writing and it’s often been quoted when describing me. Thank you, Rea, I promise to continue working hard to make the sales of Kleenex rise every year! Special thanks and unending gratitude to all the book bloggers whose passionate love of books helps authors like me, every day.

  Maria Nolan, a dear friend of mine, came to the rescue last year, finding GAA tickets for my husband Rog, to see his beloved Dubs play. Maria, in thanks I named a character after you, who is as fabulous as you are.

  Mel Ferguson and Helen Moore helped me by answering some tricky legal and banking questions in relation to Stella and Matt’s marriage. Thank you for not questioning my strange and awkward enquiries!

  I have a plaque on my kitchen wall that says, Careful or you’ll end up in my novel! Well, confession time, us writers DO borrow great lines from our friends and family often. I’m one of life’s great listeners and people-watchers. I shamelessly steal words from my children’s mouths, to make my younger characters more authentic. And if you make me laugh, I store it up somewhere in the back of my mind, ready to use at some point. There’s a funny scene with Charlie in Ikea that came from a gem of a story Clarissa Coote shared on Facebook. It made me snort with laughter and set my mind racing, reminding me of a time when someone asked me could they ‘pray on me’ too! So between my story and Clarissa’s I created the perfect Charlie scene. Thank you, Clarissa.

  Sincere thanks to all at HarperCollins, who work tirelessly to turn my words into the finished product you hold in your hands. The Irish team – Tony Purdue, Mary Byrne and Ann Marie Dolan, well, you had me at cream tea! I say it often because it’s true, I am very lucky to be part of your warm, welcoming little family. The UK team – Charlie Redmayne, Kate Elton, Kimberley Young, Kate Bradley, Lynne Drew, Eleanor Goymer, Elizabeth Dawson, Jean Marie Kelly, Heike Schussler, Jaime Frost, Samantha Gale and so many more … all of you make the non-writing parts of my job so much easier with your expertise, professionalism and warm support. And you have this knack of making us authors all feel special. That’s a talent.

  There aren’t enough words of gratitude for my insightful editor and friend, Charlotte Ledger. It’s hard to believe, but this is our fifth novel together! Without your advice, pushing me, encouraging me, The Woman at 72 Derry Lane would not be as it is today. You helped me bring my characters and their stories to places that I didn’t even realise existed.

  Caroline Kirkpatrick, copy editor extraordinaire, I am in awe of your attention to detail. I hope this isn’t the last time we work together, thank you sincerely.

  To my agent, Rowan Lawton, and all at James Grant Group, your expert counsel is appreciated more than you could ever know. I’ve loved brainstorming ideas with you and I cannot wait to see what these next few years bring us. I suspect it’s going to be quite the adventure.

  To my many cheerleaders and friends in the writing industry, I am grateful to each of you, you’ve kept me sane on more than one occasion and make me smile whenever we get together – Hazel Gaynor, Claudia Carroll, Debbie Johnson, Louise Hall, Fionnuala Kearney, Margaret Madden, Sophie Grenham, Ger Holland, Catherine Howard, Elizabeth Murray, Madeleine Keane, Vanessa O’Loughlin, Sophie Hedley, Caroline Grace Cassidy, Fiona Kenny and Michelle Jackson.

  Tracy Brennan, Thelma to my Louise, thank you for your friendship and never-ending support.

  The IWIers, the writing group I mentor, are a wonderfully supportive dynamic to be a part of with a whole lot of talent buzzing around! Hugs to each and every one of you. It’s all kinds of cool watching you follow your dreams – Sharon Thompson, Catherine Evans, Elaine Meyler, Ciara Murphy, Valerie Whitford, Adelle Kenny, Denise Kenny, Lorraine McCormack, Tric Kearney, Lorraine Palles, Andrea Mara, Teresa Hanley, Bernadette Maycock, Deirdre Reidy, Suzanne Hull, Siobhan Purcell, Grainne Plaxton, Judith Hazel, Aedin Collins, Ciara O’Shea, Ciara Cassidy, Rachel Mahon, Fiona Manning, Laura Lovelock, Clare McGhee and Maria Nolan.

  To my co-conspirators and friends at Wexford Literary Festival – Maria Nolan, Jarlath Glynn, Richie Cotter, Adele O’Niell, Sheila Forsey, Caroline Busher, John Kelly, Alison Martin, Tina Callaghan and Imelda Carroll. We have such a great time plotting and planning, don’t we? Thank you for the laughs and support.

  Speaking of support, I’m very lucky to have Esther Hayden and all at Wexford People, Tom Mooney and all at Wexford Echo, Maria Nolan and all at Enniscorthy Guardian, Alan Corcoran and all at South East Radio, Cathy Keane, Biddymay Quigley, Fanchea Gibson, Wexford Book Centre, Byrnes Bookstores, Paddy Kavanagh, George Lawler and Wexford Libraries, all cheering me on.

  Screen NS, the teachers and the parents alike, are such a vibrant and friendly community and I feel lucky to be part of it. Too many of you to mention by name, but I appreciate your support and encouragement so much.

  To all at TV3 on the Elaine show, but in particular Elaine Crowley and Sinead Dalton, thank you for letting me be part of your gang.

  Great friends aren’t always those that you’ve known the longest, sometimes they are the people who have walked into your life and made a difference, who prove that they are always there for you, by their actions and words. Whether it’s to discuss tricky plot scenarios or help with the kids when a deadline looms, chase down teenage crush Paul Young for me, rearrange bookshelves in my favour, insist their friends all buy my books, throw breakfast, lunch and dinner parties, listen to dieting dilemmas, or provide laughter and light on our nights out – I thank you all: Fiona and Philip Deering, Catherine and Graham Kavanagh, Davnet and Kevin Murphy, Gillian and Ken Jones, Siobhan and Paul O’Brien, Sarah and John Kearney, Rosaleen and Chris Philpott, Caroline Hodnett, Louise Kenny, Maria Copeland, Liz Bond, Siobhan Kirby, Maria Murtagh, Naomi McMullan, Margaret Conway and Lisa Cant-Conway.

  I always save the best to last – my family of course! There’s lots of us, which means that there is a whole lot of love and laughter when we get together. Tina and Mike O’Grady, Fiona, Michael, Amy and Louis Gainfort, John, Fiona and Matilda O’Grady, Michelle and Anthony Mernagh, Sheryl O’Grady, Evelyn Harrington, Adrienne Harrington and George Whyte, Evelyn, Seamus and Patrick Moher, Leah Harrington, my great aunt Margaret Gates, Ann Murphy, my person, and John, Ben, Abby and Sean, Eva, my beautiful step-daughter, my children, Amelia and Nate, who make my life a brighter place every day and, last but never least, my husband Roger – my sounding board, my confidante, my best friend and my love. One big mahoosive thank you to you all.

  This book is dedicated to my Aunt Ann and Uncle Nigel, who are also my godparents. I lucked out here, because they are everything godparents are supposed to be. I’ve always felt the warmth of your love, Ann and Nigel, despite the fact that you live in Australia. Distance in miles never equalled distance in my life. As a child, I loved receiving your letters and not just because there was usually money enclosed, hidden in a chewing gum silver wrapper! Now, with the wonder of FaceTime, we write less, but speak more often – you are now Nannie Annie and Pops to Amelia and Nate. You’re much loved by all of us and I want you to know that I appreciate every single thing you’ve ever done for me.

  Once again, thank you. Much love to you, my lovely readers.

  Carmel

  Turn the page for an exclusive look at

  The Things I Should Have Told You

  ‘Anyone who loved the great Maeve Binchy will adore this gorgeous gem of a book’

  Irish Times bestseller, Claudia Carroll

  Prologue

  OLLY

  Our lives are just a series of moments. From the small, mundane occasions that we let pass us by without notice, to the big showstoppers that make us pause and take note. Then, when you least expect it, a moment so powerful and defining happens that changes everything in a split second.

  The thing about change is, it’s not always good.

  Today was a day
of insignificant moments, until Jamie’s scream bounced off the walls in our house and time slowed down. Relief at seeing him in one piece was fleeting as I followed his eyes and saw what he saw. Evie, my thirteen-year-old daughter, lying unmoving, vomit splattered on her face and chest, dripping into a noxious puddle on the dark floorboards.

  Time then sped up as we made our frantic dash to the hospital. And now we are in no-man’s-land as we wait for more news on Evie.

  A kind nurse has just left our cramped hospital waiting room and the musky, woody scent of her fragrance lingers in the air. Vanilla, apples, sandalwood. It’s Burberry perfume, I’d recognise it anywhere.

  I look to my right and am unsurprised that the smell has sent Pops right back to 1981 too. A time when it was the norm in the Guinness house to spray that scent into the air every morning, in an effort to bring someone back. Until one day the bottle was empty and Pops said, ‘That’s enough now lad.’ I watch him as his grey eyes water up and he turns to hold my gaze, nodding. A silent acknowledgement of mutual pain triggered by the scent of a nurse’s perfume. For maybe the one-millionth time in my life, and I daresay in my father’s, I yearn for my mother.

  MAE

  How long have we been sitting in this room now? It feels intolerable and I long to see my daughter. I seek out the clock on the wall and realise that it’s almost nine p.m. Three hours’ sitting in this small room waiting for news on Evie. Meagre updates from harassed but kind nurses and we cling to the fact that at least she’s alive. Panic overtakes me once again at the thought of any scenario that doesn’t include … I can’t complete the sentence. I continue bargaining with God.

  My mantra, my prayer, is simple – don’t let my baby die. I’ll do anything if you grant me this one thing. I’ll be a better mother, I’ll be a better wife, I’ll be a better person. Please keep my baby alive.