In a Moment

by Caroline Finnerty

  Over the next couple of days her family discussed what Jean was going to do, but she wasn’t included in the plans. She tried telling them that Gavin was a really good guy and that he loved her and it wasn’t his fault that his dad was an alcoholic. She told them that she and Gavin would raise the baby together and that she knew Gavin would stick by her even though she hadn’t even told him yet that she was pregnant, but her parents forbade her to go anywhere near him ever again. She listened as they planned her whole life out for her. She was going to take this year off and have her baby, then she would go back and repeat the Leaving Cert the following year and go on to university. Úna would take care of the baby. They never asked her if this was what she wanted.

  24

  As the weeks went past, Jean missed Gavin desperately. Her mother stuck to her like glue and Jean found it impossible to sneak off and meet him. She had no way of communicating with him and she was worried about what he must be thinking of her, when all of a sudden she didn’t show up to meet him. She had just vanished on him and he didn’t even know she was pregnant. It didn’t help matters that his dad didn’t have a phone in the house so she couldn’t even ring him when she was at home alone. She begged to be allowed go for a walk on her own, but her mother refused saying she couldn’t be trusted and that if she really wanted to go for a walk, she would happily go too.

  One day her mother accompanied her to Dr Thornton for one of her antenatal check-ups. After an hour Úna looked up from the magazine that she had been licking and thumbing for the umpteenth time and sighed. The waiting room was still packed – there were still nine people ahead of them. She knew it would be hours before Jean would been seen and, sighing heavily again, she put the magazine down and said she was going off to get a few messages and would be back shortly.

  Jean knew this was her one and only chance. Gavin’s house was located two streets behind the surgery. She knew if she hurried that she could be there and back in a matter of minutes and her mother need never know. She had butterflies in her tummy just thinking about seeing him again. She waited for a few minutes after her mother had gone, before getting up and telling the receptionist that she needed some air. Taking in her growing bump, the receptionist smiled at Jean sympathetically and told her to take her time and she was sorry they were running behind schedule.

  Once outside the door, Jean looked left and right to make sure there was no sign of her mother before she tore down the street and around the corner to Gavin’s house. She knew people were looking at her but she needed to get there fast, she didn’t have much time. She prayed he was at home. She pressed the bell and stood on the step and waited anxiously. She strained to listen for anyone coming to the door but she was met with silence. Please be here, Gavin. Please. She pressed the bell again and pounded on the door with force and waited a bit more but there was still no reply. She felt cheated that he wasn’t in; this was the first chance she’d had in months to see him and likely the only chance she would get for months again. She turned around defeated and walked slowly back towards the surgery. She had just rounded the corner back onto Market Street when she heard her name being called.

  “Jean!”

  She swung around to the familiar voice, the voice that instantly comforted her and told her things would be okay.

  “Gavin!”

  They ran towards each other on the street and embraced, momentarily forgetting they were in Ballydubh village where people weren’t used to this kind of carry-on. People were stopping in the street to look at the pair of them. Gavin took a step back as he noticed Jean’s bump.

  “You’re not . . .” he lowered his voice, “pregnant, are you?”

  Jean nodded. She watched his excitement at seeing her wane before her eyes as the shock took over. They were starting to attract the attention of the town busybodies so Jean pulled him down a side street.

  “Jesus! Why didn’t you let me know?”

  “My parents won’t let me out of their sight. I’ve been trying to think of ways of getting to see you but they’re all over me.”

  “But I posted a letter to your house! Did you not get it?”

  “No! I never got it!” she cried angrily. “I bet my mam opened it before it got to me. I can’t believe she’s reading my post too!”

  “I thought you just didn’t want to be with me any more. God, I’ve missed you so much.” He hugged her tight.

  “I haven’t much time, I’m supposed to be in Dr Thornton’s waiting room for my check-up – if Mam finds me here she’ll kill me.”

  “Come away with me.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you and me . . . and now our baby. Jesus, I can’t believe you’re having a baby!”

  “Really?” Jean’s eyes had lit up. All she wanted was to be with Gavin and get out of this godforsaken town.

  “Yeah, I’ll find us somewhere to live, I’ll get a job. We can be a family!” His idea was starting to gain momentum and he was being carried away by his excitement.

  “Meet me at midnight tomorrow night, down by the weir. We’ll go away together, miles from here. I’ll have everything organised. I have some money saved –”

  “I have some put away at home – I’ll bring that.”

  “Great!”

  She kissed him on the lips and ran back to the surgery with a huge smile all over her face.

  “Where were you?” Her mother, who was already back, asked with a face that would turn milk sour.

  “Sorry, Mam, I just needed some air. I felt faint.”

  “Well, you look perfectly fine to me.”

  “That’s because I just had some air.”

  “Don’t use that tone with me, young lady!”

  Jean was going to reply but she bit her tongue. Tomorrow she would be free from all of this. In little over twenty-four hours, she and Gavin would be together again.

  * * *

  The next night, Jean sneaked out of her bedroom window and tiptoed down the garden path. She held her breath, praying the neighbour’s dog wouldn’t start barking and blow her cover. As soon as she was away from her house, she started to run. There was a full moon out, lighting the path for her. All she had managed to bring was a backpack with a few of her clothes, some toiletries and a photo of her family. She was beyond excited at the thought of her and Gavin running away together, setting up a new life for themselves and becoming a proper family.

  They hugged as they were reunited. Gavin told her that he had managed to find an abandoned shed that they would stay in until morning but he assured her it was only for tonight and that tomorrow would be different. Jean was so buoyed up that she didn’t care that they would be sleeping in a shed. Luckily it was a mild October night and the winter frost had yet to bite. As they lay there in each other’s arms, under the moonlight, she couldn’t help but think how romantic the whole thing was; they would be telling their baby this story in years to come.

  At first light they got on a bus to Cork. They both slept the whole journey long as neither had slept properly in the shed. They didn’t wake until the driver turned off the engine. Looking out the windows, they realised they were in the terminus. They got off the bus and took their bags out from the hold. Gavin had the name of an auctioneer who let houses and they asked a man for directions before setting off.

  The city was coming alive for the day ahead. Traffic filled the quays, the pavements were filling up and shops were opening up. Jean looked around in excitement; she couldn’t believe they would be living in a city. She had been living in the small village of Ballydubh her whole life, but this place was so alive and vibrant that it seemed like another world altogether.

  25

  John Grace had looked at the young couple sitting across the desk from him with raised eyebrows. They were a very young couple, he thought, hardly out of their teenage years with all their worldly possessions on their backs. And her pregnant! He knew something wasn’t right but it wasn’t his place to say so. After all, he was just an auctioneer
– he was in the business of renting houses, he wasn’t bloody Social Welfare. It wasn’t his business to be sticking his oar in and wondering what folks were up to. He gave them brochures of all the houses and apartments that he had on his books but when they turned them over and saw the rents, he thought that the young fella was going to pass out. Then, when he had happened to mention the fact that you had to pay a month’s rent in advance plus another month as a deposit, you’d think he had told them the sky had fallen in! And then of course the girl had gone and started to get upset. He was beginning to feel like the inn-keeper that turned Mary and Joseph away. It was pretty easy to guess that their finances were pretty dire. So much for a handy commission, he thought grimly. Then he remembered the bedsit that was adjoining his own house. His mother had lived in it until she died last year and he had never done anything with it after that. He knew it was hardly in a fit state. By now the place was damp and teaming with mildew but, sure, as his mother always said, beggars couldn’t be choosers, now could they?

  As he showed them the dark one-roomed bedsit, he couldn’t help thinking that it was worse than he had remembered – if that was even possible. It had been nearly a year since he had set foot in the place and he was greeted with a pungent odour as soon as he opened the door. There was a flowery settee against one wall, a double bed against the back wall and a small circular table and chairs stood in the centre of the room. There was a battered TV set with a faux wooden surround. John tried to remember how long he’d had it – it must be at least twenty years old but sure it worked grand. The floor was covered in grey stripy linoleum throughout and the walls were papered in ruby-red velvet-effect wallpaper. His mother had taken a fancy to it a few years back and had gone wild with it. She’d had the entire place covered in it. All her old ornaments and china figurines stood on every space; he had never got around to tidying the hideous things up. He thought up a figure in his head for the rent, enough not to scare them off completely but sufficient for it to still be a nice little earner for him; he wouldn’t get too stuck into helping them out.

  * * *

  Jean blinked back tears as she watched Gavin shake hands with John Grace as he handed over three quarters of all their money for the deposit and first month’s rent alone. She didn’t think she had ever seen anywhere quite so awful – granted she’d had a pretty sheltered upbringing but this place was dire. She knew John Grace wasn’t doing them any favours on the rent either but, as Gavin kept on telling her, they didn’t have any other option. For some reason she had thought they would be able to afford somewhere a bit nicer, a proper home, small but cosy, but she had underestimated rental costs. She tried not to let her disappointment show.

  While Gavin signed the lease, Jean stayed standing. She was afraid to touch anything in the place and there was no way she was going to sit on the furniture. As soon as John Grace had gone, she set about cleaning straight away. She put on rubber gloves and wiped away layers of greasy dust that had built up over years. She swept away wispy cobwebs from the ceiling but, no matter how much she sprayed her deodorant, she couldn’t mask the musty smell. She was sure she could still smell the old woman who had died here. She shivered at the thought.

  She thought about home as she cleaned. Her family were probably in a panic now that they had realised she was gone. She didn’t want them worrying about her; she just couldn’t live there any more. She would ring them in a few days to tell them she was okay when hopefully they would have calmed down.

  After they had bleached and dusted the place as best they could, they sat back wearily onto the settee, which they had now covered with throws which Gavin had gone out and picked up cheaply in a discount homewares store on North Main Street. This was their first night together in their own place and already the excitement of living together was starting to pall. They had only ever spent short amounts of time with each other but here they were playing house. It was odd deciding what to watch on the TV, when to go to bed or asking what the other wanted to eat. They had bought a small few bits to eat in a supermarket and Jean was shocked at how much everything cost. She began to fret that their money was being swallowed up rapidly but Gavin told her not to worry and that first thing in the morning he was going out to look for a job. That night as she listened to him snoring gently beside her in the bed, a tear rolled down her face.

  * * *

  Days went by with Gavin trawling through the job notices in the windows of the employment office. He soon realised that jobs were not as easy to come by as he had hoped. The building sites didn’t want to know him as he was too young and anyway, even if they were to overlook his age, his scrawny body didn’t look like it would be capable of the heavy work. He spent an entire day walking to all of the factories but none of them were hiring at the moment. He tried shops and offices but they all wanted people with experience.

  He knew he needed to get something fast. They were down to their last twenty pounds and the rent was due again at the end of the week. He couldn’t draw the dole because Jean wouldn’t let him sign on in Cork for fear that it would flag their whereabouts with the authorities. She was paranoid about going to the Social Welfare office even just to enquire about their entitlements in case they would trace her back to her parents. She wouldn’t even go to a doctor down here for her check-up in case the doctors had been alerted to her being missing. Gavin himself thought she was over-reacting but she was insistent so he had no choice but to try and get a job somehow. He could see she was getting more upset by the day and he knew she was having second thoughts about running away together. And even though she denied it, he could hear her crying at night. She was nearly now in her third trimester; she was getting bigger and wasn’t as mobile as before. Gavin could see she longed for the comforts of her old life and the novelty of them running away together had quickly worn off. He was trying his best to be positive but it wasn’t enough. He knew that John Grace would soon be looking for next month’s rent and Gavin knew that his type would have no qualms about throwing them both out onto the street whether or not Jean was pregnant. Gavin didn’t want to admit to Jean that he was actually really worried, so he kept on saying that everything was fine and he hoped she believed him.

  26

  November, 2009

  The music boomed down from the stacked speakers and echoed around the vast concrete warehouse. Beams climbed up the high walls, climbing higher still so that they illuminated the cracked windows running along the top before running back down to the floor again, scattering coloured shadows around the space. All the bodies faced forward, dancing together, covered in sweat, and their heads tilted upwards in a kind of intimacy. The blinding halogen light made the DJ appear like God above them. Someone had managed to climb their way to the top of the speakers and was now frenetically moving to the music from way up over the crowd.

  Paul could feel the music reverberating from the speakers, rebounding off the floor and up through his feet, until it was like electricity, coursing through his body from the tips of his toes, travelling up his legs, pulsing around his veins and vibrating through his bones. His two hands were raised above his head as he thumped the air to the beat of the music. The music slowed; then briefly speeded up, before slowing down again as the DJ played cat and mouse with them. Then finally after he had teased them for long enough, he roared “One! Two! Three! Are you ready?” He spun his two hands on the decks sending the tempo faster, the music getting louder. “Here! We! Go!” Paul could feel the rushes building and radiating across his body to the beat of the music. When finally it reached the climax, a cacophony of foghorns blared. Paul felt as though every nerve-ending in his body was exploding in small pops of blissful euphoria like a flower bursting through its bud. He felt weightless as he floated on the sound waves being carried along by the volume of the base drum pounding.

  He loved everyone. Loved them. Every single person in the warehouse was the best person in the world. Everyone in this room was fucking deadly. They were all rolled into this b
all of love together, united on a higher plane.

  A girl wearing red sequined hot pants and a white bikini top displaying a toned, tanned midriff was walking towards him. She had a pink cowboy hat on her head and a purple feather boa around her neck. She went behind him and wrapped the boa around him before putting her two hands around his neck. She began to massage his shoulders and tickled his back by running her fingertips in light feathery movements up and down his spine. He felt the rush building inside again. He swung her around so that she was in front of him and cupped her head in his hands. He leant down and kissed her dry lips. Her mouth tasted like chewing-gum.

  “You’re fucking ace!” he shouted at her.

  “What?”

  “I said you are fucking ace!” He roared back again. He wanted her, he needed to touch her. His hands reached out and started feeling her body, moving up over her breasts. She threw her head back laughing, her mouth wide open to reveal small gappy teeth. She jerked back upwards again before pulling away from him. He watched her as she walked off on her path through the crowd, kissing strangers as she went. He was left standing, swaying gently as the music softened into a trance. His hands fumbled with the small plastic bag full of pills. He used to eat ten-penny mixes from bags like this. He swallowed two instantly and waited for the warm feeling until he could feel it rise up inside him, building from his core, radiating out to the tips of his fingers, skin, toes, until every part of him tingled in pleasure, alert and alive. His white T-shirt was stuck to his skin, transparent with sweat. He took off his top and threw it aside. He was thirsty and grabbed a plastic pint glass of water from where they were lined up on a table, gulping it straight back; he took another one and poured it over his body to cool himself down. His heart was thumping and his breathing rapid. All the while his foot kept tapping out the beat. He continued dancing bare-chested, pounding out each beat as if it were physically in the air in front of him. He danced for hours, never wanting this to end. He wanted to stay like this forever; feel like this forever.