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The Secret Wound

Page 30

by Deirdre Quiery


  “Don’t be silly. By the way you’re not staying in that Holiday Inn – you’re staying at my place. I have a room ready for you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I would be insulted if you said ‘no’. Do you want to go and see Paddy straight away?”

  “Yes – of course.”

  They drove to the Milthorne, Laura asking Gurtha lots of questions along the way, in particular wanting to know about developments in finding Cornelia’s body.

  “No. The Police have given up any hope of finding the body.” Gurtha looked at Laura as she drove. He hadn’t appreciated before how beautiful she looked. Her black hair lay sleek on her shoulders. Her features were fine. Her nose straight, but what was most beautiful was the shape of her lips which pulled into a moving smile – opening and closing – at times pulling into a smile to the left and then to the right. Her eyes were a hazel green – almond shaped rather than round, with thick black lashes.

  She looked at him and smiled.

  “I’m glad you’re back. Paddy will be pleased. However, don’t be surprised if he doesn’t say much. He spends most of his time sleeping.”

  Gurtha nodded.

  “You were right about Cornelia. I should have listened.”

  Laura tapped him on the hand.

  “At times it’s easier to see things when you’re not emotionally involved – from a distance.”

  She pulled into the Milthorne carpark.

  Maggie opened the door for them and kissed Gurtha and Laura.

  “She’s been brilliant. I would love her to work here with me. She’s a ten out of ten.” She stopped outside room 11. “You know Paddy had his fall. We don’t think that is the reason for his deterioration. Sometimes dementia unfolds like that – you have a plateau when everything is fairly stable and then there can be a sudden worsening. We thought it best that you came home early as you can’t predict how quickly it can … degenerate. I’ll leave you together.”

  Gurtha and Laura pulled up a chair beside the bed. Paddy turned his head to look at them. He smiled.

  “Gurtha. You’ve come home.”

  His face didn’t look so red, more white, as if the colour had been drained out of him. He had lost weight and the skin sat on top of his face like a sheet that was too loose for the bed – it needed to be tucked in here and there. Because of the whiteness – Gurtha noticed the small spidery veins as they crawled over his cheeks and onto his nose. Gurtha felt a tightening around his heart. Paddy’s hand moved slowly across the sheet towards him – like a snail heading home.

  Laura sat silently beside Gurtha and watched.

  Paddy smiled again. His eyes were the same cornflower blue. They were bright, but they had more depth to them – two pools of blue which had deepened their way to new connections in Paddy’s heart. It felt to Gurtha that the whole of Paddy’s life was being drawn together from every cell in his body into his eyes. Gurtha didn’t need to do anything more to know Paddy than to allow himself to sink into Paddy’s eyes.

  Paddy held tightly onto Gurtha’s hand. He whispered. “You won’t leave me now will you? I don’t want you to go. It’s frightening when you’re not here.”

  Gurtha moved closer to Paddy’s face. He wanted to kiss him on the cheek but he didn’t want to frighten him. So he pretended that he wanted to whisper into his ear. Paddy move his head slightly on the pillow to make it easier for Gurtha to do that. Gurtha moved even closer until it was a kiss that he gave Paddy as he whispered.

  “I’m not going away. I’m staying here for you. The holiday in Mallorca is over. I’m back.” His lips touched Paddy’s cheek.

  He moved slowly back yet kept his face close to Paddy’s so that he could see his eyes. Paddy began to cry but they were tears of happiness or even joy. He squeezed Gurtha’s hand.

  “Now we’re all together again, like before. Nuala came to see me this morning and she said she would be back. When she comes back will you make us all a cup of tea and I’ll have a digestive biscuit?”

  Paddy’s mouth began to move as if he was talking to someone but there were no words coming out. He kept talking, with his eyes fixed on Gurtha. His lips were moving the way Laura’s lips move – to the right and left – up and down as if they were doing a dance.

  Gurtha leaned closer to Paddy’s mouth to see if he could hear what he was saying. There was nothing, only movement and silence.

  He pulled back until he could see Paddy’s eyes again. Paddy swam into Gurtha’s eyes. They were swimming together. Gurtha remembered the story Paddy had told about Alaya and Athaneus – when Athaneus recovered his speech but decided not to talk because he knew the power of silence and that you said more words or different words in silence than you did with words. Paddy was talking to him in silence. His mouth creating those silent words.

  Gurtha wanted to say ‘I love you’ but he remembered that Athaneus didn’t want to say that to Alaya. So he kept looking into Paddy’s eyes until they slowly closed. Paddy shuddered a little in the bed as if the life within him had shaken its wings to leave him. He took his last breath.

  DAY 38

  TUESDAY 17TH SEPTEMBER 2013

  TODD CALLED Barry and Angelina.

  “Did you hear the news?”

  Barry answered, “Yes. It was good that he got back in time. Only just, by the sounds of it.”

  Todd sounded different – not speaking in his normal brusque voice.

  “Stephanie and I were wondering if you would like to have a coffee. It has been one Hell of a week. We felt we would like to have a quick chat.”

  Barry took a deep breath, “It’s not more bad news is it?”

  Todd laughed.

  “No. No. Quite the opposite. How about ‘The Albatross’ in the Port in an hour? They do a good breakfast.”

  Angelina and Barry arrived at the same time as Stephanie and Todd and they picked a table in the shade. Beside the boats, a man sang doleful songs, strumming his guitar.

  Todd said in a hushed voice, “Pity we didn’t think of asking him to play for us the last few days – he captures the mood perfectly.”

  They ordered scrambled eggs and salmon as the seagulls circled overhead and the local wild cats sat patiently by the tables waiting for morsels.

  Todd spoke first.

  “Stephanie and I were talking last night after we got the news about Paddy and we were saying that, although it’s been a difficult month or so, we feel we’ve learnt a lot. I’ve realised that I am a nasty, selfish piece of work. I don’t know how Stephanie has put up with me. With all that has happened – Nuala – Henry – Amelia – Cornelia and now Paddy – we have decided that life is too short for more nastiness. We are going to get married in Santa Monica at Christmas and you are both invited to the wedding. We will invite Gurtha as well but let’s allow him time to bury his father first.”

  Barry and Angelina looked at one another and then held one another’s hands.

  “Well, we were talking about darkness needing light. We weren’t going to say to everyone so soon after the events of the past week but now that you are being so honest, why not? Angelina has agreed to marry me. We haven’t set a date yet but it will be before the baby is born.”

  Stephanie got to her feet and hugged Angelina and then there were kisses all around and squeals of delight.

  “Now we asked you first – so we have to be invited to the wedding.

  DAY 39

  WEDNESDAY 18TH SEPTEMBER 2013

  “WHEN SOMEONE BEATS A RUG, THE BLOWS ARE NOT AGAINST THE RUG BUT AGAINST THE DUST IN IT.”

  J RUMI

  POLICE INSPECTOR Andy Finn updated the file on Nuala’s death. He read through his notes again to ensure that he had the correct dates for his interviews in Mallorca. There was a photo of Nuala on file. He fingered it for the last time. She had blonde hair pulled back into a scrunchie and a fringe which fell across her forehead. Her skin looked remarkably young for a woman of her age. She was smiling. However, it was her eyes that caught
his attention. They seemed to be looking at him directly, as if she was with him in the room.

  He was a man of facts and evidence – yet Nuala seemed to be demanding something more from him. Had he not done as much as anyone could? He read the comments which people had made about her:

  A fearlessly honest woman

  You won’t pull the wool over Nuala’s eyes

  She would make a cat laugh

  She was never one to get caught up in other people’s business

  She knew when to say something and when to be quiet

  She didn’t judge people but she knew what doing the right thing was

  She was a mystic – she knew things beyond what normal people did

  She gave you the sense that she had a personal relationship with God

  Money meant nothing to her

  Have never met anyone who had so little and enjoyed life so much

  She was always grateful for what she had rather than moaning about what she didn’t have

  He had a stamp which he was going to put on the file cover – ‘Case Closed’.

  Instead he opened the drawer to his left and selected a different stamp – ‘Case Open and Unresolved’.

  DAY 40

  THURSDAY 19TH SEPTEMBER 2013

  “LOVERS DON’T FINALLY MEET SOMEWHERE. THEY’RE IN EACH OTHER ALL ALONG.”

  J RUMI

  IT WAS a cold September day with a strong northerly breeze blowing the remaining leaves from the oak trees in the Grove of Holy Cross Church. Gurtha climbed the steps holding Laura’s hand. As he entered the Church, he could see that the pews were already full. At the front, near the altar was a pew reserved for Gurtha, Laura, Lily and Tom.

  ♥

  The evening that Paddy died, Gurtha returned to Laura’s house. They were alone. They sat by an open fire and talked about life. Laura asked him, “Well, have you worked it out?”

  Gurtha stoked the fire.

  “Worked what out?”

  “What you wanted to work out by going on your sabbatical to Mallorca.”

  Gurtha laughed.

  “I think so. I know what I like now. I didn’t before.”

  Laura poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. “You said that you would tell me before anyone else. What is it?”

  “Well I started to tell Barry, Angelina, Todd and Stephanie the night you rang, but I didn’t finish.”

  “Well?”

  “I learnt that I like simplicity, being in nature, being grateful for creation in all its forms, including animals. Needless to say I believe in non-violence but, most importantly, I discovered that human beings do have a conscience and it will triumph in the end.”

  Laura topped up his tea.

  “Why do you think that? There are many people looking at the world and thinking that we are ‘doomed’ – and that it will not work out well in the end.”

  Gurtha sipped his tea.

  “Yes – that’s true. Maybe I felt the same after Nuala died. How could anything work out well. But, I now feel, how can it not? I think that we all have a radar, a conscience that will guide us to what we need to do. Simplicity will help.”

  “So how are you going to build this simple life?”

  Gurtha took Laura’s hand.

  “If you would be so kind to help me, I would like to build it with you.”

  Laura blushed, held onto her cup of tea and nodded.

  ♥

  Back in the Church Father Jerome spoke.

  “Many of us were here a year ago when we buried Nuala. We knew then that there was a risk that further murders could take place if Nuala’s murderer was not brought to justice. Although the murderer was indeed amongst us and, in fact, I shook her hand, we know that in the end this person gave her life to save another. We should be grateful for her ‘metanoia’ or change of heart and pray for Cornelia. Today we celebrate Paddy’s life and death. We recognise the value both Nuala and Paddy have added to our community. We must continue to look out for one another and to strengthen our community. There should be no strangers in our midst.”

  As the Mass ended and Gurtha lined up once more beside Tom to carry the coffin from the Church, he glanced down the aisle towards the front door. A woman wearing a long black coat, black gloves, black hat and a glossy black bob was watching him intently. Their eyes met for a moment, then she turned slowly and left the Church, silhouetted against the grey light outside. She vanished from sight. Feeling the weight of Paddy on his shoulders, Gurtha walked at a slow, measured pace and, as the coffin reached the door of the Church, he scanned to see where the woman, who looked like Cornelia, had gone. Inside, the church choir sang:

  The rain tapped on the window

  Calling from above

  A quiet insistent yearning

  That seemed to talk of love

  Then there was a moment

  When no one was alone

  A fleeting, empty presence

  Filled with all and none

  What can you say

  When words have gone?

  What can you say when all alone?

  What can you say

  When all you hear

  For sure

  Is a whisper within the silence of love?

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book would never exist without the continued support of my husband Martin and that of Matthew Smith the Founder and Director of Urbane Publications. They both open wonderful worlds of possibility, positivity and creativity.

  Thanks to Laurence Freeman, Director of the World Community of Christian Meditation for his insights into the ‘woundedness’ of the human condition.

  Thanks to Rachel Connor for her wonderful mentoring of ‘The Secret Wound’. She is a true writing companion.

  I have appreciated the friendship of other Urbane authors who have shared their writing experiences and are great fun to be around.

  Thanks to my cousin Kathleen, husband Johnny McGreevy and my sister in law Heather Quiery for all their support.

  Thanks to Alan and Agnes McLaughlin and to Kieran McNicholl.

  In a world that increasingly seems fearful, angry and directionless and in a society which struggles to find effective responses, Deirdre Quiery brings a perspective in her work and in her writing that challenges many of the assumptions and standards that have evolved in the Western world during the four centuries since Newton and the dawn of science. What human beings need more than anything, she argues, is to think more expansively and inclusively and to go beyond traditional, rational thinking and embrace a wisdom which lies beyond thinking.

  This perspective plays out in her studies (an MSc in Consciousness Studies and Transpersonal Psychology), in her life (living in a secluded olive grove in Mallorca which allows for space, peace and daily meditation), in her writing and blog on deirdrequiery.com, in her art (she has successfully sold paintings at two exhibitions in Mallorca and has one planned in London in June 2017) and in her other work (supporting corporate leaders and managers to be more creative and spontaneous, opening the door to true intuition and to the wisdom mind).

  Her first book, Eden Burning, set in Belfast in the early seventies, the peak years of “the troubles”, explores the destructive impact of fear and violence on the human psyche and the depths to which we all, as humans, are capable of falling given the right mix of genetic and personal history. It also explores the extraordinary heights which we, as humans, are capable of reaching when supported by the redeeming power of love and forgiveness.

  Her second book, The Secret Wound, due to be published by Urbane Publications in June 2017 is set largely in Mallorca in 2014, explores in more depth the nature of love and relationship and how unconscious, deep-seated patterns of behaviour – what she would call wounds – fill our lives with unwanted and often unrecognised consequences which impede us from fulfilling our full potential. Until we learn to deeply undo the shackles of ego (because all of these unconscious wounds are ego-driven in one way or another), a painful process whic
h requires tenacity and courage, we can never be free to flow effortlessly and joyfully with the universe in the dance of life. To do this successfully, we need to know that we are unconditionally loved.

  ALSO BY

  DEIRDRE QUIERY

  EDEN BURNING

  ISBN : 978-1909273900

  £8.99

  320pp, PAPERBACK

  Northern Ireland, 1972. On the Crumlin Road, Belfast, the violent sectarian Troubles have forced Tom Martin to take drastic measures to protect his family. Across the divide William McManus pursues his own particular bloody code, murdering for a cause.

  Yet both men have underestimated the power of love and an individual’s belief in right and wrong, a belief that will shake the lives of both families with a greater impact than any bomb blast.

  This is a compelling, challenging story of conflict between and within families driven by religion, belief, loyalty and love. In a world deeply riven by division, a world of murders, bomb blasts and assassinations, how can any individual transcend the seemingly inevitable violence of their very existence?

  Urbane Publications is dedicated to

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  From page-turning novels to innovative

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