‘You would have been a great father,’ Ruth said.
‘I am a father,’ Tom whispered.
Ruth looked up, confused by his words. She rifled her memories, trying to remember a mention of a child, by either Dr O’Grady or Cathy. She could not recall a single time.
‘For a year we had everything. Then our son Mikey died. And when he went, everything changed. Cathy never really found her way back from her grief. Not properly.’ He shook from the words he’d just acknowledged for the first time in ten years.
‘What about you, Dr O’Grady? Have you found your way back?’ Ruth watched his face contort in pain. She saw profound grief etched onto every groove and line.
He had chosen to step away from the world he knew. He hid himself in the park, one of Dublin’s invisible. A rough sleeper filled with loss and regret. And now he was not sure if he could ever find his way home.
52
TOM
When Ruth left, with promises that she would return the following day, Tom’s mind kept looking at all the roads he’d taken over the past ten years. He had spent so long thinking that this was the only way he could find his way home to Cathy and Mikey. But what if he was wrong? What if there was another way?
But to do that, first of all he had to be honest with every part of his story … Mikey’s death was only the start. There was something else he needed to acknowledge, to tell Ruth about. For now, he was tired. He closed his eyes and dreamed, going back to the darkness.
‘I’m getting old,’ Cathy moaned as she moved her legs slowly to the ground. Her knees cracked as if to punctuate the point.
‘I heard that!’ Tom said.
‘My hips aren’t much better.’
‘I felt you toss and turn all night,’ Tom said, ‘It’s time to get an appointment to see what’s going on.’
Cathy responded by throwing her eyes up to the ceiling. ‘And they say women are the ones who nag!’
‘I don’t like seeing you in pain, that’s all.’
‘I know.’ Cathy walked around the bed to her husband and kissed him. And to both their surprises the kiss grew passionate and all thoughts of hip and knee replacements vanished as they fell back onto the bed. Their lovemaking was slower, gentler now, yet somehow more beautiful.
‘Not bad for a man getting close to his sixtieth birthday, eh?’ Tom boasted.
‘Not bad at all,’ Cathy replied. ‘I would say that like fine wine, we’re getting better the older we get. But right now, I need to get a wiggle on. It’s a big day for one of my kids from the centre. She’s moving into her own apartment.’
Tom looked at his wife with pride. ‘You have helped so many do that.’
‘A team effort, of which I am proud to be a part.’
‘Will I make tea?’
‘Do,’ Cathy said. Her face changed and Tom knew she was thinking about Mikey. He could always tell. He didn’t want to lose her. His body still felt the touch of her hand and he was not ready to lose her to the damn darkness again.
‘How is Ruth doing?’ he fired at her.
‘I am amazed at how quickly she is transitioning to motherhood. She’s adamant she wants to leave Wexford, though. Her fear that her mother will harm her baby just won’t go away.’
‘I will miss her if she does. I have grown fond of her and DJ,’ Tom replied.
Tom watched Cathy’s eyes become dull. It was as if a switch had turned off inside of her.
‘Don’t go,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t like it when you go.’
If she heard him, she didn’t show it. She was upstairs, oblivious to his words, his pain.
He prepared her favourite poached eggs on wholegrain toast and brought them upstairs to their bedroom. She kept her back to him, lying on their bed.
He stood watching her for what felt like an eternity, but it was only a few moments. He left her with Mikey and consoled himself that a version of him was with Cathy in her dreams. That had to be something. When the centre rang looking for Cathy a few hours later, he kicked himself for not calling them to let them know she would not be in.
His mother had many odd phrases, picked up from her own mother, who no doubt picked them up from her own. One of them was ‘Someone walked over my grave’, something he uttered right now. He felt a shudder and began to shiver as an unexplained coldness seeped through him.
He ran up the stairs, two at a time, somehow knowing, yet not knowing.
He found Cathy lying on the bed, clutching the grey jumper cushion in her arms like it was a baby. Her face was ashen white and her eyes were closed.
Just sleeping. That’s all.
But then he saw. A glass of water. An empty tub of tablets.
No!
He felt for a pulse that he knew was not there.
No, no, no! Not this. Not like this, Cathy.
Then he climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her cheeks, her forehead. ‘You’re where my story began. You can’t leave me.’
The silence that had engulfed him when Mikey died came back and this time it was not letting go.
53
TOM
Now
Tom awoke stiff with pain under his ribcage and on his right eye. His face felt tender and raw, from the hours he had cried the evening before. A decade’s worth of unshed tears. He looked around his room again, reorientating himself. It was a strange sensation being inside a room that didn’t have rows of bunk beds side by side. He kept dozing off, which confounded him. He had not napped like this since he was a kid. It must be the warmth of the hospital ward making him drowsy, and the pain medication.
Then he saw her, sitting by his bed, reading a battered copy of Odd Thomas. Wearing a paper face mask just like the one she’d worn the first day she came to his doctor’s surgery. Oh, Ruth, I am so glad you never changed.
‘You came back,’ he managed to croak. He felt a lump form in his throat, choking him, and tears stung his eyes once more.
‘How are you feeling?’ she whispered, lowering her face mask. She looked around her, as if expecting a swarm of germs to attack.
‘Better,’ he replied. He felt the strangest sensation overwhelm him. In this room with Ruth he felt healed.
He marvelled at her strength and was humbled by it. While she was struggling with the huge changes in her life she took time to take care of him, to reach out to support an old acquaintance. He realised that he could not love her more if she were in fact his own daughter.
‘DJ is outside with Bette Davis. We had a plan to sneak her inside to visit you. It did not go very well.’
‘Go on,’ Tom said, grinning again.
‘DJ’s first plan was that I pretend to be blind and bring Bette in as my guide dog. I saw many problems with this so we moved on to his next bright idea.’
‘I’m all ears,’ Tom said.
‘DJ borrowed a pram from his friends in room 131. I suspect their mother, Melissa, does not know. She is a most objectionable woman. I just cannot take to her.’
‘What did you do with the pram?’ Tom asked. Then his mouth formed a perfect O of surprise when the penny dropped. ‘No …’
‘Yes! We placed Bette in the pram and covered her with blankets. I think she rather liked it. It worked well until an orderly blocked our path as we made our way along the ground floor downstairs. Several people peered in to look at the baby. I thought Bette was rather fetching, albeit a bit hairy for a child. One pointy-nosed woman shouted out to everyone that Bette was a dog. As DJ swore blind that Bette was his sister, someone walked by with a McDonald’s takeaway bag. One whiff of the Big Mac and Bette was up and out of the pram, chasing her next meal. I have to tell you it was quite a sight.’
‘Stop, can’t laugh, the pain …’ Tom said, holding his side.
‘I am sorry we did not make it in to you, but I thought you would like to know that she is close by.’
‘I do, and I’m grateful more than you’ll ever know. How is she? She’s been through the mill too,
poor little mite.’
‘Healing, like you,’ Ruth replied. ‘DJ is taking good care of her. As are my friends at The Lodge.’
Her friends. Tom felt his heart leap in joy at hearing Ruth say this. She had friends. And what a boy DJ was. Funny and kind. The DNA jackpot. ‘You have done a great job with that kid,’ Tom said.
She blushed at the compliment. ‘I had to make a lot of it up as I went along.’
‘That’s what all parents have to do, Ruth. And mothers with Asperger’s have been raising children for ever. Just because it wasn’t recognised years ago doesn’t mean it didn’t exist,’ Tom said.
‘I was so scared when I was pregnant.’
‘I remember,’ Tom said. ‘But mostly I remember how strong you were. How excited to meet your baby.’
‘I might not have DJ if you had not been there for us,’ Ruth said, and they both remembered that moment at the foot of the stairs when he delivered her child.
‘I have had a lot of time to think about that fall. I had just walked upstairs and the stairs landing was dry. Then my mother walked out drinking a bottle of soda. I believe my mother spilled her drink deliberately. To make me fall,’ Ruth said.
Tom nodded. He believed that was true, too. ‘I am so sorry, Ruth.’
‘Me, too, Dr O’Grady. I do not want DJ to know this,’ Ruth said.
‘He will never hear it from me,’ Tom replied.
‘I keep thinking about your baby, Dr O’Grady. I am so sorry about Mikey. I would very much like to have met him,’ Ruth said.
Tom knew that the time had come to share everything with Ruth. No more hidden truths. ‘There is more to my story. I should have told you before now. But in truth I could not face it myself, never mind admit it to anyone else. Cathy didn’t just die, she … she committed suicide.’
She listened to Tom tell her about the horror of finding his wife dead. And what came next.
‘You want to die, too. I understand now,’ Ruth said.
‘No,’ Tom replied, surprised by this. ‘I’m ready to die whenever that time comes, but I’m not suicidal. At least, not any more.’
‘Yes, you are. Because you will die if you continue on this road you have chosen,’ Ruth said. ‘Another Bobby will rob you and you will not come back from it. Or the cold will get you and you will perish, like Mr Lash did. And that is unfair, because there are people who care about you.’
Tom was silent.
‘And that limp you have will only get worse. You are an old man now. You have no business putting your body through the hardships you are forcing yourself to face,’ Ruth said.
‘You said last night that the only way you can be at home is by remembering Cathy and Mikey in your dreams. Outside under the stars. Well, I think that is a crock of shit. There are a thousand ways to find your road home. But you have to be brave enough to look for them.’
A nurse peeked her head around the curtain and said, ‘Good news, Mr O’Grady. You are free to leave. Is this your daughter?’ She smiled at Ruth.
‘No,’ Ruth replied at the same time that Tom said, ‘I wish she was. I could not ask for a better one.’
‘I will wait outside,’ Ruth said, her cheeks flushed from his words. She wanted to tell him that she would like nothing better than for him to be her father. How different her life might have been, if fate had given her him, not Marian and Alan. But the words were tumbled up in her head, so instead she told him, ‘You are coming back to the hotel with me. We shall check you into a room. I do not want to hear a word about it.’
Tom thought the idea sounded splendid all of a sudden.
An hour later, the three friends and Bette Davis walked through the front door of the hotel. Kian and Aisling were standing in front of reception waiting for an answer from Erica about putting up Christmas decorations in the Library.
They had chosen a bad day to ask. Because Erica had been feeling out of sorts for hours. She placed her half-eaten Subway roll back onto the reception desk. Then felt a sharp pain in her chest. When would she ever learn that chilli sauce gave her wicked heartburn? Her Billy would be cross with her when she told him.
She felt warmth sweep over her body and a bead of sweat lined her upper lip. She picked up her water bottle and took a swig. The phone rang and she answered it, listening incredulously. Someone was complaining about a dog barking the previous night. Whatever next? She was getting too old for this job. Always an issue with something or someone.
Ruth and DJ were moving towards her. With an old man. The same guy she had thrown out of the Library the other week. And was that a dog sitting in a pram? What on earth …? She really didn’t need this today of all days.
‘Ah, howaya, Doc. Feeling better?’ Kian asked. ‘You didn’t half give us all a fright.’
‘Better than I’ve felt for years,’ Tom replied.
‘Dr O’Grady would like a room, please,’ Ruth said.
‘What’s the story on the Christmas decorations before you check him in?’ Kian asked. ‘It’s a miserable enough Christmas for us to be stuck here, but for the kids it’s just not fair.’
Erica felt the blood pound in her ears to the point where she thought she might go deaf.
Aisling stepped forward. Had she been holding hands with the mouthy one just then? ‘We’d like permission to decorate the Library, Erica. And the kitchen upstairs, too. It won’t cost you any money.’
Kian put his hand up. ‘Let’s not be hasty, love. Erica might be feeling the Christmas cheer and want to donate a few euro.’
Erica held her own hand up, and said, ‘I’ve no rooms for the likes of him. And I do not want any tacky decorations in my hotel.’
‘Told you the auld bag was a bleeding scrooge through and through,’ Kian said.
‘Are you OK, Erica?’ Ruth asked.
Erica had gone deathly white. She moved from the front desk and staggered towards the centre of the lobby. She began to stumble as a wave of dizziness hit her. ‘I …’ Her words ended in a gasp and she fell to the ground in an undignified heap.
‘Is she locked, or what?’ Kian asked.
Erica was astounded to find herself on the ground. She wasn’t the type to faint. Was this a faint? She gasped as another pain shot up her arm into her chest. She found it hard to breathe. Erratic, irregular gasps filled the air. She looked around the lobby of her hotel and then felt the strangest sensation, like she was leaving her body. The last thing she saw was the tramp and Ruth running towards her.
‘Erica, Erica, can you hear me?’ Ruth shouted, kneeling beside her.
‘Why doesn’t she answer, Mam?’ DJ said, his eyes wide open.
‘She’s having a bleeding heart attack,’ Kian said. ‘My mam was the same when she had hers.’
Aisling pulled Anna into her arms, in an attempt to shield her from the event unfolding in front of them.
Ruth watched in horror as Erica’s body rose with each inhalation and then wheezed on the exhalation.
‘Call 999,’ Tom called out, then he gently moved Erica onto her back. He began CPR, thirty compressions to every two breaths.
‘Someone stand on the street so that you can wave the paramedics in,’ Ruth instructed.
‘It is OK, Erica. You are going to be OK,’ Ruth said, holding her hand. Billy, she would want her Billy.
‘Kian, go find her Billy,’ she shouted. If he existed, then this was the time for him to come forward. Ruth had never seen anyone die before. She began to shake as the real possibility that it was happening in front of her eyes overtook her.
‘The paramedics are on the way,’ Aisling said.
Then all at once pandemonium ensued. The infamous Billy ran in, paling at the sight in front of him. He took one look at Tom on the floor beside his beloved Erica and screamed, ‘Get off her! What are you doing? Get off my Erica.’
‘Billy, he is a doctor. It is OK,’ Ruth said, moving aside so he could take up position beside his wife.
The sounds of sirens filled the lobby and the
door swung open as the paramedics arrived.
When they kneeled beside Erica, Tom told them, ‘I’ve been performing compressions for the past four minutes. Her name is Erica. This is her husband.’
It was the same team from a few weeks ago when he found Sheila’s baby. Recognition flashed between them all.
‘We’ll take over now. Well done, mate. You’ve done great,’ Steve said, then applied a shock to Erica’s heart with a mobile defibrillator. The whole room jumped in sync with it, then held their breath, waiting for Erica to make one.
Declan checked Erica’s pulse and said, ‘Nothing.’
A second shock was administered to Erica’s heart and the room swelled in silence and panic as they prayed for a miracle. Billy was mumbling the Lord’s Prayer, on the ground beside them.
‘Go again,’ Declan said. And it was a case of third time lucky, because he shouted, ‘We’ve got a pulse!’
The room erupted in a cheer and the paramedics loaded Erica onto a stretcher.
‘You’ve done that before,’ Declan said to Tom.
He nodded, then admitted, ‘I used to be a doctor.’
‘He saved your wife’s life,’ Declan told Billy. ‘You were lucky he was here.’
‘Once a doctor, always a doctor, mate,’ Steve said, clapping Tom’s shoulder.
‘I will take care of The Silver Sands Lodge,’ Ruth reassured Billy as he followed his wife out the door. She moved towards Dr O’Grady, who was being congratulated by the residents.
‘Total legend!’ Kian exclaimed.
‘You were so calm. Incredible,’ Aisling added.
‘Way cool, Doc,’ DJ said.
And Tom realised that he liked being Dr O’Grady again. He liked it a lot.
54
TOM
It turned out that time was not up for Erica. She’d had a mild heart attack. The doctors said it was a warning. Her mince pie-eating days were over.
Billy asked Ruth would she take over as temporary Hotel Manager, which she was happy to do. She was most surprised by this promotion, but apparently it was Erica’s fervent wish. Erica would be in hospital for at least a week and Billy wanted to spend his time by her side. They were both shaken by their near miss.
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