A Part of Me and You

by Emma Heatherington

  I gulp now as my daughter’s smiling face reflects in my memory.

  ‘Thank you, Sarah,’ I whisper.

  ‘Look,’ she says, biting her lip. ‘I know you are only around a few more days, so if there is anything I can help with to make your stay here as good as it can be, just let me know, please, I mean that.’

  ‘Honestly, you have done more than enough, more than you might ever realise.’

  ‘And I know you were joking earlier about Shelley being your tour guide,’ continues Sarah, ‘but I swear, you have helped her so much too in the past few days and I think she has really benefitted from your company. A lot more than you will ever know.’

  Sarah wipes a stray tear from the inside of her eye.

  ‘Gosh, really? I have? How?’ I ask.

  I am genuinely taken aback by this. I thought it was very much the other way around with Shelley and I. She is the one who has been helping us have a good time.

  Sarah shakes her head and exhales as if she doesn’t know where to start.

  ‘Shelley has been … look I don’t want to talk behind my best friend’s back, but she has almost disappeared since Lily died,’ she explains to me. ‘She’s just … been gone. And I’ve missed her company. We used to be like sisters. Meeting you and Rosie seems to have given her this magnificent lift. Your timing, as far as Shelley’s concerned, was almost fateful and yesterday on the beach meant as much for me and Shelley as friends as it did for you and Rosie as mum and daughter.’

  ‘My goodness, really?’ My cynical view of this woman’s perfect life has mellowed as I see the pain and gratitude in her eyes when she speaks about her friend. I feel better already at the very idea that I may have helped, even in the tiniest way, to ease Shelley’s pain or to show her that life really is worth living – because of course I only realize how fragile it is now that mine is about to end.

  ‘Yes, you really have sparked something off in her and I, for one, am so delighted to see it,’ she continues. ‘It’s like my best friend is slowly coming back to life, like meeting you and Rosie has breathed some new life into her. She has been to the most devastating hell and back but it’s only now that she’s realizing that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to learn to live again, and maybe even love again too. Guilt free.’

  She sips her coffee quickly as if she is trying to stop herself from saying too much more than she already has.

  ‘I never even thought of it that way,’ I say to Sarah, ‘but maybe there was some big universal reason for us meeting. I do believe that everyone comes into our life for a reason, and if they leave, they leave for a reason.’

  ‘Exactly,’ agrees Sarah.

  ‘I also believe that Rosie came into mine for a reason even though at the time it was the very last thing I expected,’ I tell her. ‘I didn’t want to be a single mum and have a child to a man I didn’t even know, who probably didn’t even remember I existed. I thought when I had her that I would have a best friend for life, but that isn’t working out too well, is it? All we can do at the end of the day is embrace what comes our way and have faith that somebody out there knows what it’s all about and is taking us in the right direction.’

  ‘My God, you must be terrified,’ Sarah says to me. She has pushed the remainder of her chocolate éclair to the side now. ‘Did you ever manage to tell Rosie’s father about her? Does he know yet? You are so incredibly brave, Juliette.’

  I shake my head and look out onto the harbour.

  ‘I’m not brave at all, Sarah, I just don’t have a choice unfortunately,’ I tell her. ‘And no, he never did get to know that she existed and that’s going to sink in soon. He isn’t here anymore unfortunately, so I really don’t have a choice. I should have tracked him down at the time but now it’s too late. I left it too late.’

  ‘He isn’t here?’ asks Sarah with surprise. ‘Do you mean here on earth or here in Killara?’

  I can see her calculating years and dates and Rosie’s age in her head.

  ‘Both,’ I tell here. ‘He isn’t here on earth and he isn’t here in Killara anymore either.’

  She puts down her coffee.

  ‘You mean he was from Killara?’ she exclaims. ‘Well, if that’s the case I must know him then. Who is he?’

  I look over to my daughter to make sure she isn’t listening in. I have nothing to lose now by telling Sarah who my one-night lover was. He is long gone and he wasn’t even from here after all. What is there to keep secret anymore, apart from not letting Rosie know just yet, I can tell Sarah openly, can’t I?

  ‘His name was Pete, but he went by the nickname Skipper and I believe he was a good friend of Matt’s, Shelley’s husband? He was a boatman and he’s gone now, as you probably know. Gone from this earth as well as gone from Killara.’

  Sarah’s hands slowly come up to her face and she nods her head as it all slots into place.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she says, and then she shakes herself back to reality. ‘God, yes, I knew him really, really well. Wow.’

  She looks over at Rosie. Then back at me.

  ‘Wow,’ she says again. ‘He was one of our gang for a short while many years ago. We were all so shocked and upset when he died. Bloody hell, Juliette. Who else knows about this?’

  I take a deep breath.

  ‘Absolutely no one around here apart from you and Shelley,’ I tell her. ‘I don’t even know why I told you, Sarah, sorry if this is all too much. I probably shouldn’t have told you.’

  But Sarah is fascinated.

  ‘And are you going to contact his family?’ she asks. ‘Do you even know where to start looking for them? Wasn’t he from Waterford or somewhere that direction? Yes, Waterford, yes he was definitely from there.’

  ‘Yes, he was apparently and no I have no idea how to contact his family,’ I say to her, emphatically. ‘I have no clue what I want to do next, Sarah. I might let sleeping dogs lie until I get home on Saturday, or else I might take my daughter for a walk today and tell her everything, as little as it is so far, that I know about him. I’m just not sure she can cope with all that baggage with what she already has ahead of her. Or maybe I’ll write it in a letter for her to read much later, after I’m gone and she’s old enough to digest it. I don’t know, Sarah. I just can’t get my head around it at all.’

  Sarah sits back in her chair and folds her arms, still a look of wonder in her face. Then she leans forward again.

  ‘You really don’t know anything about him at all, do you?’ she asks in a whisper.

  ‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Just his name and some fuzzy recollection of what he looked like perhaps and what happened that night all those years ago. And even that, as I say, is a little fuzzy as I’m not sure of how much of it I made up in some romantic memory and how much of it is true. It was quite a while ago after all.’

  ‘Okay,’ she says, pursing her lips in thought.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it really is going to be okay, I’ll get over it and Rosie will muddle through,’ I tell her. ‘You look like you are thinking, Sarah. What are you thinking?’

  Sarah smiles a little, a sympathetic smile.

  ‘Look, I hope I’m not going to upset you but you are not going to believe this,’ she says to me. ‘Remember we were talking about old boyfriends earlier?’

  ‘Yes,’ I reply, not knowing where this conversation is going to.

  ‘Well, back in the early days, Skipper was one of mine,’ she says and now it’s my turn to gasp.

  ‘Jesus, I’m so sorry! I honestly had no idea!’

  ‘No, no don’t be silly!’ she says quickly and she reaches across and puts her hand on my arm. ‘It was never serious, I swear. No hearts broken, I promise! It never even got past first base – he took me to the cinema in Galway and we kissed a bit out on his boat and that was it, end of. Like a teenage romance only we were a bit older than teenagers. But the only reason I’m telling you this, is not because we had some mad love story going on, but because …’

  She pauses.


  ‘Go on,’ I say to her.

  ‘I’m telling you this because I am almost sure I have a photo of him somewhere in the attic of the B&B and I’m thinking maybe you would like it, for Rosie.’

  I look across again. The window. The laughter. The lateness. The dark.

  ‘You’re kidding me,’ I tell her. If only she knew that was where we spent the night together, in her mother’s B&B where she may have a photo of him hidden somewhere in a box of old memories.

  ‘I’m not kidding,’ she says. ‘Look, I’m not promising anything, but I’ll have a search over the next few days and if I find it and you want it you can have it. You’re here till Saturday, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, Saturday,’ I tell her and my eyes fill up at the thought of it. ‘Sarah, I can’t tell you how much it would mean to me to have a photo of Rosie’s dad to leave with her. That’s so special and so kind of you to look for it. Honestly, thank you.’

  Sarah bites her lip.

  ‘I’m so sorry your search for him didn’t have a happy ending,’ she says to me. ‘He was a a real gem and I’ll take the place apart over there until I find the photo. I’ll do my very best to help you leave something behind for her. My very best. That I can promise.’

  Now it’s my turn to take Sarah’s hand and give it a squeeze of appreciation. We both watch our daughters, who are still in full-blown conversation with little Teigan swinging her legs under her seat as she chats away with confidence. A photo of Rosie’s dad would be so precious to have when I get around to telling her all about him. I feel a lump in my throat at the very idea of that conversation, so it won’t be today. And it probably won’t be tomorrow but when I do give it to her I want to make it a positive moment when she will finally see the man whose genes she shares and who might even look a bit like her and whose family might even learn to love her

  Today, and every day while we are here, is going to be a good day. I hope so, anyway.

  Chapter 18

  Shelley

  I arrive at Lily Loves fifteen minutes late and Betty, to say the least, has a face on her like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

  ‘I’m ever so sorry, Betty! You should have just closed up and put a sign on the door,’ I say to her. ‘The traffic coming out of the city was insane for this time of the week and my phone battery died so I couldn’t ring ahead. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

  Eliza hurries in behind me before Betty can open her mouth and she automatically takes over.

  ‘Blame me, don’t blame Shelley,’ she says to Betty who already had her coat on when I arrived and is trying to get out the door. ‘I insisted we went for a walk on the Prom and we lost track of time and then the traffic. Are you okay, Betty? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?’

  I don’t think that Betty and I have ever had a proper conversation about anything that didn’t involve the shop so to see her now in such a fluster just because I am fifteen minutes late is a bit of a shocker. I’m more than glad to let Eliza, who’s known her for years, take over. Betty was at our wedding as a guest of Eliza, she was even at Lily’s christening and she never missed buying her a birthday present. And yet, apart from being much appreciative of her work in the shop, I realize I barely know the woman at all.

  ‘I just need to go to town myself and get some stuff for my …’ she says, trailing off and straightening up a little, or should I say, calming down. ‘It was busy today, Shelley. I’ve left the usual note for you explaining any sales and just a general overview of the morning.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I respond.

  Eliza steps aside at last and lets the poor woman out, but as soon as she steps outside, she’s back again.

  ‘Shelley, before I go,’ she says. ‘Do you know a young girl, a teenager, dark hair, pretty but wears a lot of make up? She was looking for you.’

  ‘Ah yes, that must be Rosie,’ I say with a smile. ‘Did she call in while you were here?’

  Betty has that strange look about her again.

  ‘She did,’ she tells me. ‘Is she a friend of yours? A relative of yours?’

  ‘No, no she’s here on holiday,’ I explain. ‘Any message from her? I’m sure she’ll text me if she needs me for anything important. And now that I think of it, I’d better plug in my phone. She might have been trying to get me for something.’

  I go behind the counter and do just that. Hearing that Rosie was looking for me gives a sense of urgency that I can’t explain. Maybe it’s the feeling of being needed by someone? The feeling of being able to give to someone something that comes with just being me?

  ‘Here on holiday? Oh, is she?’ says Betty and she glances at Eliza and then back to me as if she doesn’t believe me. ‘No, no message from her as such. She just said to tell you that she called to say hi and that was it. Off she left in a blaze of makeup and perfume that I didn’t recognise.’

  ‘Thank you, Betty,’ I smile at my ever so courteous shop assistant as she makes her way outside again. I honestly have never known her to be so curious.

  ‘And sorry again for being late!’ shouts Eliza, then she mumbles under her breath to me. ‘God forbid if she’s late home to feed her bloody well cats. Honestly, was there any need for that look on her face? Is she always like that? You know, you think you know someone!’

  ‘Never,’ I say to my mother-in-law and I am telling the truth. ‘She is never like that. She did look a bit shaken though, didn’t she? I do hope she’s okay and that I wasn’t taking the mick by being late. I’d hate to have to come in here in the mornings now that I’ve discovered brunching and walking the Prom when the rest of the world is working.’

  ‘And why would you when you don’t have to?’ asks Eliza. ‘Take it easy, Shelley. You’re not out of the woods just yet, love.’

  Eliza tilts her head to the side and watches me as I fix clothes on the rails in my little boutique, the only haven where I can seem to occupy my mind completely. I feel her stare and the warmth of her smile on me as I go to the counter where I read down Betty’s list of notes from the morning. Betty always writes down how many customers called in and at what time and she makes a note of what was sold even though I can tell all that by balancing my till receipts with stock.

  Customer 1 – 9.35 am – browsed, didn’t try on, didn’t buy.

  Customer 2 – 10.05 – bought scarf and green wrap dress, said she would be back for more. Said she would tweet about it also.

  Customer 3 – came in as customer 2 was trying on. Bought denim jacket and said the smell reminded her of her father. Strange fish. Didn’t like her.

  Customer 4 – just before lunch, teenager, English accent. Not a customer after all. Asking for you.

  And so it goes on, but then I freeze at what she has scribbled on a different piece of paper that I don’t think she meant to leave behind, and my stomach goes sick.

  ‘What is it?’ asks Eliza, noticing my sudden change in mood. That woman could pick up energies from anywhere in the world and I’m not kidding.

  ‘Nothing,’ I say to her with a deep breath. I lean across the counter to cover Betty’s note and I force a smile as my stomach rips into shreds. ‘Nothing at all. Thank you so much for today, Eliza. It was just what I needed and lots more. I had a great day, thank you so much. You’re such a star to me.’

  But Eliza is not one bit convinced.

  ‘You know you can tell me anything, Shelley’ she says, unconvinced. ‘Is there something going on that’s worrying you? Are you missing Matt? Did you have a row or something?’

  I stand up straight and shake my head.

  ‘No, no, I’m fine, I really am fine,’ I tell her. ‘Now run along or you’ll be late for your committee meeting,’

  She gasps as she remembers that she is meant to be at the Cancer Research Society AGM in ten minutes.

  ‘And thank you again for today!’ I call after her. ‘I owe you lunch or dinner soon!’

  She waves without looking back and mutters to me as she leaves but I have no idea what
she is saying. Then she is gone in a blaze of perfume and positivity and I look down at Betty’s note and try and make sense of it all, but I have no idea what it means. Or do I? No. I don’t want to go backwards, I can’t go backwards. I feel my breath shortening so I take out my phone and I call the first person I think of who can make me feel better.

  I call Juliette and the second she answers, I scrunch up Betty’s scribble and I throw it in the bin.

  ‘Juliette, it’s Shelley,’ I say and I close my eyes when I hear the now familiar sound of her voice. ‘What are you guys up to today?’

  Juliette

  It is so good to hear Shelley’s voice and I can honestly say that she has perked up quite a bit, even on the phone, from the downbeat shell of a girl I only met a few days ago.

  ‘Shelley! So lovely to hear from you. We have plans to go sailing soon around the cliffs with Leo, and I’m really looking forward to it, as is Rosie. How was your morning? I bet you were tired after yesterday.’

  ‘I was tired to be honest but I was also feeling very energised and positive afterwards, especially today,’ she says to me. ‘So much so that you will never believe what I did today. I’ve been itching to tell you!’

  I am intrigued. ‘Go on?’ I say to her.

  ‘I actually pushed myself and went to Galway this morning with my mother-in-law,’ she says. ‘And we had a wonderful time shopping and brunching and people watching. I know to most people that’s an everyday thing but I’m so out of touch with real life and I know that you’ll understand how big a leap it was for me to do that.’

  I take a deep breath. ‘You’re a champ,’ I tell her. ‘I’m so proud of you. Keep taking these baby steps, Shelley. I can see your glow is starting to return and we need to keep fanning those flames.’

  Shelley’s newfound positivity, as simple as it may sound to an outsider, is music to my ears. I shudder to think of what she must go through every morning when she wakes up, especially this week when her husband is gone.