The Girl I Was Before

by Izzy Bayliss

  “So how was the party?” I asked making polite conversation.

  “Great – we had so much fun, but my God that cake was amazing. We had only got down as far as his teeth by the end of the party – we still have his whole body to go.”

  “Yeah – I probably got a bit carried away alright.”

  “Marita said we could freeze the rest of it and bring it out for all of Cian’s birthdays until he’s twenty-one and we still wouldn’t get through it,” he laughed.

  “Did Cian like his presents?” I took another gulp of wine to drink it quickly.

  “Well I got him a Lego Ninjago set – his Mam got him a bike so he did well.”

  “Lucky boy getting presents from both parents! Your wife seems lovely.” I felt I ought to mention Marita – just so he knew the boundaries.

  “My wife?” Sam looked at me quizzically.

  “Yes – your wife, Marita?”

  “She’s not my wife.”

  “Sorry – I just presumed you were married. Partner is that the right word?”

  “She’s not my partner either,” he laughed.

  “Oh.” I could feel myself going red. “Well if she’s not your wife or partner what the hell is she?” I started to get flustered.

  “My sister.”

  “Your sister?” I tried to piece it together. How on earth had I picked up that they were husband and wife?

  “But Cian – he’s your son, isn’t he?”

  “Wrong again, I’m afraid. He’s my nephew.”

  “But he looks just like you!” I protested.

  “Yeah – everyone always says that,” Sam said shrugging his shoulders.

  It was slowly starting to click into place for me. “So Marita is Cian’s Mum then?”

  “Correct and right, Lily.” He was laughing heartedly by this stage. “I can’t believe you thought Marita was my wife – wait ‘til I tell her!”

  I started to laugh then too. I began to relax – he wasn’t married, we weren’t doing anything wrong by having a drink together. I sat back into the chair and took a slow sip of wine. When that glass was finished Sam signalled the barman to order another round.

  We spent the rest of the evening chatting away. There were no awkward silences and we actually had a lot in common. Sam was very quick witted, and had me in stitches. By the end of the night my jaw was aching from laughter. The time went so fast, and I ended up staying longer than I had planned, so long that I ended up missing the last bus back to Ballyrobin. I rang Frankie and asked her to put me up again. Sam walked me to her apartment block, he actually only lived across the Liffey from her. We strolled along by the inky river, still talking away ninety to the dozen. When we arrived at Frankie's building, he waited until I was safely inside before heading on to his own place.

  Frankie was still up when I went in. She made tea and toast and we sat facing each other cross-legged on the sofa. I told her the whole story about how I had met Sam for a drink and how I had thought he was married.

  “Do you like him?” she asked.

  “Not like that – no way, I’m not even looking at men at the moment. But it was a lovely evening and I really enjoyed myself. It’s been aaaages since I laughed like that. It felt good.”

  “Well it’s good to see you getting yourself out there again.”

  “No, Frankie I’m definitely not ‘out there’ again - maybe when I’m seventy I might consider it. What about you – when are we going to see some action from you? There’s been no one since Anton.”

  “Lily, I like being on my own – you know that. I grew up in a house with six brothers and sisters, fighting over everything from food to toys and who got the first of the bathwater – if you were near the end, the water was all scummy and cold. This is the first time in my life that I have my own space – I spent nineteen years sharing a bedroom and I don’t want to have to do it again anytime soon. Anyway I’m not sure if the whole getting married and having a baby thing is really my bag.”

  I knew she wasn’t just saying that like some people do when really they’re lonely and wish they weren’t single – Frankie genuinely valued her independence and was quite happy on her own. Sometimes I wished I had her confidence – I was scared of being on my own. I had been going out with Marc since I was seventeen, and I didn’t know anything else.

  ***

  The next day when I was on the bus home my phone beeped. It was a message from Sam:

  "Hope you got home okay? I really enjoyed last night, maybe we could do it again soon?"

  I don't know why but as I read the message, my heart started to race and my head began to spin. I started to feel like there wasn't enough air on the bus for me. Although I had enjoyed his company immensely, it was too much. I wasn't ready for anything else. I pressed the delete button without replying and put my phone back in my bag.

  Chapter 25

  That same evening I had just arrived home when my phone rang.

  “Lily, it’s me –”

  “What’s wrong, Clara?” She sounded completely panicked. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s Tom –”

  “Is he okay?”

  “No – he’s not, Lily. He’s not okay at all.”

  “Oh God what’s happened?” A shiver ran down my spine.

  “Please come over Lily, please,” she sounded desperate.

  “I’ll be there as quick as I can, Clara.”

  I threw on my coat and ran to the bus stop. When I got there I tried looking at the timetable to see when the next bus was due, but some dickwad had scraped that piece off, so I had no idea how long I would be waiting. I decided to get a taxi, so I ran back down Ballyrobin Main Street to the dingy cab office.

  “26 Shrewsbury Avenue,” I panted as soon as I got in the door.

  “Fifteen minutes, okay?”

  “Have you anything sooner?”

  “’Fraid not – all the drivers are out on calls at the moment, love.”

  “Okay.” I took a seat on the wooden bench running around the wall. “How much will it be by the way?”

  She looked up towards a piece of paper she had sellotaped to the wall beside her. Then she thought a bit, added a few more numbers to it, and because it was Ballsbridge multiplied it by seven and hey presto came up with the grand total of eighty-five euro. I nearly died – I didn’t have that kind of money to be wasting on taxis.

  “It is in Dublin love,” she added. The way she said “Dublin” made it sound like I wanted to go to bloody Australia. I didn’t have any choice this was an emergency, but because the stupid backwater town that I lived in still didn’t have a proper public transport system, I had no choice but to swallow hard and pay it. I could be waiting for hours on a bus on a Saturday.

  I sat down onto the hard bench listening to the radio bleeping over and back. Finally a driver came back to the base. When the controller gave him the address he looked me up and down and said, “Well excuse me, Miss Swanky Boots!”

  I wanted to throttle him. As I got into his car my bare legs squeaked along the plastic covering on his seats.

  “Pardon you!” he said and laughed hysterically at his own joke. “Paaaaarp!”

  I glared at him. I had at least another hour left in the company of Mr Unfunny.

  I rang Clara to tell her that I was on my way that I was just getting into a taxi. “Thank God, Lily – just hurry,” she had said, still in a terrible state.

  When we finally reached Shrewsbury Avenue, I pointed out Clara’s house to him. He pulled up in front of the electric gates. I hopped out to press the intercom and they immediately parted. I jumped back in and we continued up the driveway.

  As we pulled up outside the house he let out a low whistle. ”Nice gaff!”

  “It’s not mine – it’s my sister’s.”

  I paid him the eighty-five euro and he stared at me waiting for a tip.

  “Here!” I said reluctantly pulling a tenner from my wallet.

  “Ah thanks, love, sure that’s
small change to you!”

  I shut the door before I said something I would regret and walked up towards the house.

  Clara looked distraught when she answered the door. She was wearing a long dressing robe. Clara never lounged around in her dressing gown, never.

  “What’s happened?” I asked.

  “Tom has left me.”

  “What?” I stuttered.

  “He went to Gordon Jones’ stag in Galway earlier and he won’t come home.”

  “What do you mean, 'he won’t come home'?”

  “Well, he was meant to go for just a few hours – I never let him stay overnight at these things, they’re far too raucous – but when five o’clock came and there was still no sign of him, I phoned him to see if he was on his way and that’s what he said. He said he wasn’t coming home!”

  “C’mon Clara – he’s a grown man! He can’t just not come home. I’m sure he’ll be home in the morning.”

  “He was inebriated, Lily.” She started to sob. “What kind of example is that for the boys? He has responsibilities! You have to go and get him, Lily,” she pleaded.

  “You want me to go all the way to Galway and drag your husband home?” I asked in disbelief. Was she mental?

  “You have to, Lily – I can’t go. I can’t abandon the boys; it’s bad enough that one of their parents has deserted them, without me leaving them as well. And Tatiana is off with Julio or whatever his name is!”

  I put my head in my hands, why did she have to make everything so dramatic?

  “Well I’m not going to Galway to drag your husband out of a pub in front of all his friends.”

  “But what if he meets some brazen hussy down there and never comes home? What then? The poor boys will come from a broken home that’s what!”

  “I’m not going, Clara. No way. Look he’ll be home in a few hours' time – by the time I would get there, search him out in the pubs and then get him home, he’d already be back to you.”

  “You have to go, Lily.”

  “But how am I meant to get there?”

  “On the bus of course.”

  “I’m am not getting on a bus to Galway to try and track down your husband, Clara, come on!”

  “Please, Lily”

  She looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “Clara, it’s ludicrous!”

  “Maybe you’re right,” she sniffed as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “It’s just it is completely out of character - I’m worried about him.”

  I felt bad then, I had never seen her this upset in my whole entire life. She was normally so together, so composed. Her eyes were red from crying so much.

  “Right, I’ll go,” I sighed.

  “Oh thank you, Lily. Thank you!”

  ***

  It was almost eight o’clock as I made my way down the aisle and sat into a seat. The bus was quiet. There were only a handful of people – a woman engrossed in a Maeve Binchy novel, a student with earphones in, and a man who was playing with his phone. I leaned my head against the window glass – I hadn’t even thought to bring a book. The only plus about travelling at that time of night was that the roads were empty. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I arrived in Galway or where I would even start looking for him. Clara had told me that they were staying in the G-Hotel but they wouldn’t be there now – they would be out on the razz somewhere.

  I had been to Galway once before – Marc had been working on a film in Connemara and I had travelled down to the city at the weekend to meet him. The only places in Galway that I knew were Eyre Square and Shop Street, the pedestrianised street where all the restaurants and bars were – I supposed that was probably the best place of any to start my search.

  The motorway lights lit the bus up in a soft orange glow as we drove along, and when I finally got off three hours later, I was tired. It was after eleven o’clock. I should have been going to bed, but instead I was only starting off on my mission of trudging through pubs and clubs trying to find my stray brother in law.

  I searched pub after pub, but there was no sign of him. They were all wedged with people on a Saturday night. I squeezed past bodies as I searched out Tom’s face in the dim lighting. I had rung Clara to tell her I had arrived, and she was ringing me every five minutes since to see if there was any sign of him. I could hear her pacing on her wooden floors every time. The longer time went on, the faster her paces became. Every pub seemed to be full of hen and stag parties, except for the one I was looking for. Everyone else was hammered, it felt odd being so sober in a pub that time on a Saturday night. And even if I got the pub right, how did I know Tom wasn’t going to be gone to the toilet or something at the exact time I was searching for him? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  It was nearly two a.m. by the time I made up my mind to ring Clara and tell her it was useless, and that I was going to check into a hotel and would get a bus home again in the morning. I knew she would go ballistic, but what else could I do? I walked back up Shop Street heading towards Eyre Square, because I had seen a few hotels there when I had got off the bus.

  I cut through Eyre Square, and just then I saw him. A lonely figure sitting on a bench eating chips from a Supermacs bag, smiling away to himself.

  “Tom!” I said running over to him.

  “Lily? What are you doing here?” There was a blob of mayonnaise at the side of his mouth and beer stains ran down the front of his white shirt. His tie hung loosely around his neck – he looked more like a bold schoolboy than one of Ireland’s top barristers.

  “Clara sent me down to find you – she’s worried sick!”

  He looked sheepish. “She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I didn’t mean to run off, I just wanted to cut-loose for a while. On the rare occasions where I do anything with the lads, I’m always the one having to leave early and go home to Clara – I get a lot of stick about it and well, this time I just wanted to have a bit of fun for once.”

  “Look I understand what you’re saying but you know what Clara is like.”

  “I wasn’t getting up to anything – we had a few pints and I’m on my way back to the hotel room, but I really enjoyed myself – all I want is to get away from things every once in a while. It doesn’t mean I love Clara and the boys any less.”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t believe she sent you all the way to Galway to find me!”

  We both started laughing then.

  “What the hell are we going to do now?” I asked.

  “I think I’d better go home and face the music.”

  “How on earth will we get home at this time of night?”

  “We’ll get a taxi.”

  “But that will cost hundreds!”

  “I know.”

  I should have known money would never be an obstacle – I don’t know why I didn’t make Clara pay for a taxi down for me, I had never even thought of it. Tom flagged a taxi for us and we climbed in, both glad to be able to sit down. Clara phoned me again but I didn’t answer – I knew she would go off on one if she knew that Tom was beside me, and I figured it was best to let them sort it out face to face.

  I woke up a few hours later with my head resting on Tom’s shoulder. There was a damp patch where I had been drooling, and the side of my cheek was wet. I sat up, looked around and saw we were just pulling up outside their house. Tom paid the driver and we got out of the car. He let us in the front door and as soon as we stepped inside the entrance hall, Clara came out from the living room.

  “Tom!” she cried.

  “I’m sorry, Clara –”

  “Where were you, Tom – I’ve been worried sick all evening.” She started to cry then.

  “Ah, Clara, don’t cry, love.” He walked over and put an arm around her shoulder.

  I stood quietly in the corner.

  “What were you thinking, Tom?”

  “I just wanted a bit of freedom – I d
idn’t mean to hurt you. I was there sober watching everyone else getting drunk and having fun, and for once I didn’t want to leave early. I didn’t want to have to go home – I wanted to join them so I did.”

  “But you hate those kinds of parties, Tom.”

  “Do I?”

  “You do, Tom,” she insisted.

  “No you do, Clara – I really enjoyed myself actually.”

  “And look at the state you are in – look at your tie, and are those beer stains?” She admonished him like a bold schoolboy. I knew she disapproved of Tom drinking anything except wine.

  “Look sorry to butt in," I said eventually. "But maybe you need to cut him loose a bit, Clara – he’s a great husband and father and he’s entitled to a bit of time-out with his friends.” I was standing underneath the chandelier in the hall the whole time and every time Clara cried you could hear the crystal resonate.

  “Oh and like you of all people, Lily should be offering me marriage advice!” she sneered.

  I could feel the tension winding its way around my shoulder blades but I wasn’t going to rise to it.

  After Clara had finally managed to calm down and I was sure Tom wasn’t going to be found buried alive in the orchard, I decided to go home to Ballyrobin. Besides my snooze in the taxi, I had been up all night and I was exhausted.

  “Can you call me a cab please, Clara?”

  “A taxi – at this time of night? But that will cost a fortune. No you can stay over here and I will drive you home myself after breakfast.”

  I groaned. All I wanted was to get away from Clara and Tom and to go home to my own bed. It amazed me how Clara could be so tight in some respects when she had money flowing out of her ears.

  ***

  Any hopes of a lie-in the next morning were literally put to bed when Jacob and Joshua came in jumping on the bed at half six. I had only been in bed for an hour. I don't know how people who have children do those early starts. I decided to get up. I met Clara and Tom on the landing coming out of the bedroom together hand in hand.