by Rita Harling
I sat in the bedroom and tried to eavesdrop on their conversation. About an hour or so had passed when she called to say she was finished. I went downstairs to say goodbye to her and was relieved when she said that she had found Conor a very pleasant and happy child. She showed me some of the drawings that he had done for her.
As she was leaving, she told me that she would also be interviewing Conor again at his father’s home the following week. She also said that she would be in touch at a later stage with her recommendation.
When she had left and Conor and I were alone, I couldn’t help myself and I askedConor about the questions that she had asked him. He showed me the pictures that he had drawn. One of his drawings was of a house with Robyn, Conor and me, brightly coloured in. All of us were drawn with big smiles. He had circled a large bright sun in the corner of the page. He had also drawn a picture of his father — as Humpty Dumpty.
A couple of weeks later I received a phone call from the social worker. I swallowed the lump in my throat and waited to hear what she had to say. She said she was happy for Conor to remain with me and his sister. I let out a huge sigh of relief. I was so delighted and so, so relieved.
She told me that Conor was a very happy child and loved living with his mammy. I thanked God.
Brian had stripped me of almost everything. If he had of been successful in getting custody of our son I think that would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
I know that Brian did love Conor, but it was a selfish love. I feel Brian was incapable of a healthy relationship with anyone, even his own child. He would have smothered his son with everthing that he wanted, and in return Brian would have expected unquestioning respect and loyalty. I feel that as Conor got older Brian would not have had his best interests at heart. Without a doubt Brian would have led Conor down a road similar to his own. Conor would have been just another cog in the wheel of Brian’s little criminal empire. I had seen what Brian had done to Joey.
It was Christmas week 2002 when I bumped into young Joey in Finglas Village. I was delighted to see him. Joey was in great form and told me that he was happy. I invited him to come to our new home over Christmas to celebrate with Robyn, Conor and me. I also had my aunt and uncle coming up from Wexford for the celebrations and I knew that Joey would enjoy it, as the entire family adored these two characters.
My aunt Nellie was an Elizabeth Taylor look-a-like and my uncle Jimmy was a gentle giant. Nellie ran rings around him. She was some character and everybody loved her, especially my mam. She adored her little sister. I think that every family has a character that stands out, one that everyone loves to be around. Nellie was flamboyant and glamorous. She had a knack of persuading you to part with your belongings, be it jewellery clothes or makeup. She would arrive with one suitcase and go home with three. Through her 1960s Cleopatra-style make-up, she could turn on the puppy-dog eyes and you would give in to her because you loved her. Jimmy was the softest, gentlest man that I have ever met in my life. His love for his wife was unashamedly visible. Robyn and Conor enjoyed his company. He had a great way about him and children warmed to him quickly. I remember spending the summer holidays of my youth in New Ross in County Wexford, where my mam was born. Jimmy would bring Joe and me out to work with him as he delivered coal for Stafford’s on the quays. We had such a great time. I learned how to play pool in New Ross. Joe and I would play at the back of the Regal Bar on the corner of Neville Street and Michael’s Street. The owner, Denis Doyle, would allow us both in to play when the summer weather let us down.
It would be a memorable Christmas that year. Joey came and celebrated with us. The house was alive with laughter and music: guitars playing and everybody singing. We were all extremely happy. Joey left my house late that night and shared a taxi with my mam, making sure she got home safely.
On Christmas Eve that year Brian arrived to the house with boxes and boxes of toys for Conor. I was disgusted. They would dwarf what I had managed to buy for the kids that year from Santa. My presents would look pathetic next to Brian’s extravagant gifts. However, to my surprise, Conor didn’t open one of Brian’s presents. I left them stacked in the hall and I waited to see if Conor would become curious enough to open one. He didn’t. I was amazed. Even at the age of four it was as if he was making a protest of his own, or maybe it was his way of showing some solidarity with his mam. To this day they remain in the wardrobe, still wrapped in Christmas paper. I was very proud that Conor made that decision all on his own. It proved to me that he was wise beyond his years and that he knew his own mind.
Nellie and Jimmy went home to Wexford the day before New Year’s Eve. I went for a drink on New Year’s Eve with Karen and her partner, Paul. We had a great night. On New Year’s Day an old pal of mine dropped around and we spent the evening chatting. He was a lifelong friend and would drop in to check on us every now and then. When he had left, I opened a bottle of cheap sauvignon blanc, and sat and watched some of the music channels. I remember feeling so happy that I cried. I could not believe how much my life had changed. I was so proud to be moving on. I thought about how my children were coping amazingly well with their new surroundings and about how we had found peace in our new home. The kids had seen so much, especially Robyn, and they were adapting to and embracing their new life.
When I woke the following morning, I immediately reached for my mobile phone, which was on the bedside locker. I was feeling the effects of the bottle of wine that I had drunk the night before. I tried to focus on the screen so that I could check what time it was and saw that I had a number of missed calls. Three missed calls from my brother Joe and one from my uncle Jimmy. At first I thought that they were ringing me to wish me a happy New Year, but then I was gripped by the feeling that something was wrong. I immediately called Joe back and he broke the bad news to me. My aunt Nellie had passed away during the night. I couldn’t believe it. I was in denial. I rang my uncle Jimmy; he was speechless and totally devastated. He confirmed my worst nightmare: Nellie had passed away quite quickly. I was brokenhearted and I was worried about Mam.
I had to break the news to the children. It was another difficult situation that they would have to face. They were brokenhearted and both of them sobbed. I visited Mam and she was completely devastated too. I offered to drive to New Ross so that she could see Jimmy, but Mam wasn’t able for the journey as she was still trying to deal with the shock. We all were.
The following morning, the whole family made travel arrangements and we all headed for Wexford. It was a sad journey. Mam and the kids came with me in my car. The journey seemed to take forever. I couldn’t get there quick enough. I wanted so much to see my uncle Jimmy. I was worried about him.
I was driving through Graiguenamanagh in County Kilkenny when my phone rang. I handed it to Mam and she answered it. It was my cousin Breda. She broke more bad news for the family. Jimmy had been taken to Wexford Hospital, suffering from chest pain. Still driving the car, I sobbed uncontrollably. I knew what this news meant, and I could feel deep down that there wouldn’t be a good outcome. I cried so much that I lost my focus and drove up a one-way street. I pulled into the kerb and tried to straighten myself out and console Mam and the kids. We carried on with the journey to Nellie and Jimmy’s house to find the rest of the family waiting. We were only in the house a few minutes when the phone rang. It was the hospital. Jimmy had passed away.
I thought that God was playing a cruel joke on us. I was floored. How could this be happening? I was so devastated that my sister Mary wanted to get a doctor for me. I nearly collapsed a couple of times on the way from the funeral home to my aunt and uncle’s house.
I thought back to the week that Nellie and Jimmy had spent at our house and I blamed myself. In my head I replayed everything that we had done together that week. Later I realised that nothing happened during the week to cause this. I knew that we all had a phenomenal time with them and my family were quick to point out that Nellie and Jimmy had a brilliant time in Dublin.
I knew that. Nellie and Jimmy had a very simple and quiet life and everyone said that I had given them a great send off. It was their time to go and it was meant to be. Part of me was reassured that they went so close together. It made sense to me as they were such a close couple. They were buried together on the same day as my birthday, 5 January.
It took me a while to get over that shock. Mary and I stayed out of work for the remainder of January. We both had to attend the airline’s doctor at the medical centre in Dublin airport. He agreed that it was a devastating blow for us. He informed United Airlines about our loss, and recommended that we were to remain absent until we were ready to return to work.
I feel sad writing about that episode in my life, more so than any other.
In February 2003 Brian was still getting four hours supervised access to Conor. We were back in court and once again I had to argue my case and tell the judge about my concerns for Conor’s safety. The judge that day said that she thought Brian should have more of a relationship with his son. She thought four hours a week was not enough and Brian agreed with her. I did not. The judge ruled that Brian should be allowed to have Conor stay over at the cottage every weekend. I was very upset and I felt let down by the system. There was nothing I could do. I would have to abide by the court’s ruling. Brian now had more freedom with Conor. Conor stayed over at the cottage on a couple of occasions. I didn’t know what he would encounter there. I knew what life was like in the cottage and I knew how crazy Brian could be. Conor was unhappy about going with Brian and the thought of Conor being out there without me made me very nervous.
On one occasion Brian came to collect Conor from my mam’s house. Conor refused to go out to him and ran and hid under a dresser in the living room. Uninvited, Brian made his way into Mam’s house, pushing past me, and grabbed Conor by the arm and dragged him from under the dresser. Conor was hysterical. Brian threw him over his shoulder and continued down the garden path. Mam and I followed him. She was shouting at him and pleading that he calm down and talk to Conor. Mam threw him a punch, God love her, as if that would persuade him to stop what it was he was doing. Brian ignored her and threw Conor onto the back seat—without a safety belt — and got into the car and drove away. Some of my mam’s neighbours also witnessed Brian’s crazy behaviour. We all watched helplessly as Brian drove away with Conor bouncing around in the back of the car, crying hysterically. The car door wasn’t even closed properly. I was so worried for my child’s well being. How could a court think this was actually good for my child? If the judge had only seen the way Brian treated his son, she might have ruled differently. If she only knew how Conor felt. Conor was becoming increasingly afraid and nervous of his father.
Brian was quick to make demands on me when it came to Conor. However, there was never any sign of maintenance from him. I never asked him for it, because I didn’t want his dirty money. I wanted as little contact with him and his world as possible.
Another time, Brian was due to collect Conor from my house. I saw his car pull up outside, so I put Conor’s coat on and told him to put his shoes on. I heard a bang on the door and went to answer it. I was disgusted to see that Joey was with Brian. I didn’t even say hello to Joey. I am sure that he knew how disappointed I was with him. I felt betrayed. Joey had spent Christmas with my family. He had promised me that he would not go back to Brian. Seeing Joey in Brian’s presence left me wondering if he had been reporting back to Brian. We had both celebrated our departures from the cottage together. I felt a great sadness seeing Joey fall back under Brian’s control. I gave him a look of disgust. I think that he felt a little awkward when he realised how shocked I was. I was shocked because I knew what Brian’s interest in Joey was, and it wasn’t one of friendship or compassion. It was one of deceit, and one that fuelled a violent hunger.
I worried so much for Joey’s safety. I hope that he knows how much I care about him, and that I still think of him all the time.
I met Brian’s mam one day to drop off Conor. She was bringing him out to meet Brian as he was late and stuck in traffic. Ann told me that Brian and Amanda Joyce were to be married on 21 February 2003. She asked me if it would be possible for Conor to attend their wedding. This was Brian’s request. I thought she was joking I wasn’t surprised that Brian was marrying Amanda: he liked to own objects and people. I knew that marrying her would make him feel more powerful and he would feel he had ownership of her. I felt sorry for Amanda. They had only been together about a year and she had not seen the real Brian yet. I too had received an engagement ring from Brian, on the 5 January 1998, my birthday. Brian had wanted to arrange the wedding for 1 July that year, his birthday. After the brutal attack when I came out of hospital, I had taken off the engagement ring and left it in my jewellery box.
I told Ann that I wouldn’t allow Conor to attend the wedding. She tried to persuade me, but my mind was made up. I thought that she had some nerve, especially after everything she knew Brian had put me through.
Brian had not only beaten and abused me, he had also robbed me of my home. An old friend had told me that the cottage was on the market and I knew that I had rights. I drove past to see if my friend was correct. I saw the for sale sign and took down the telephone number of the estate agent and called them to find out where they were. They were based in Dunshaughlin, which is quite a distance from Kilshane. Brian thought that he was being clever by not advertising the house with a local estate agent. He thought that the house would be sold before I realised and that it would then be too late for me to stop the sale.
I drove to Dunshaughlin with my mam and found the estate agent. I searched through the photos of houses and apartments that were displayed in the window There was a picture of the cottage. I explained to the estate agent that I had an interest in the property. She seemed delighted at first; she probably thought it was a potential sale. Then I explained the situation to her. She was understanding and sympathetic. She took my details and promised that she would forward the information to me. She removed the picture from the display in the window I headed home and waited for an angry call from Brian. It never came.
The next day I went to see a solicitor in Drumcondra and explained my predicament to her. She wrote a letter to Brian informing him that she would be representing me. She contacted me about two weeks later to say Brian had not replied. She had tried several times to contact him but got no response. I considered the reprisals that were likely if I was successful in securing my share of the property in Kilshane, and I feared Brian’s revenge. He was getting into bigger things and running an operation with a large and dangerous North Dublin drug gang. So I cut my losses and backed off. Soon after, Brian took the house off the market.
In February 2003 I left United Airlines and went to work at Dublin Airport for an Israeli security company. I was responsible for the security of passengers and flights leaving and arriving on transatlantic routes. The new friends I made there were great fun. Though we had fun together, we also took our jobs seriously. We were trained to search both passengers and aircraft, using handwands, mirrors, body searches and personal profiling. We also had to carry out security checks on airport staff boarding aircraft. Homeland Security briefing letters from the US had to be signed by us, acknowledging any issues. I loved my job, but it was hard getting up at 3.00 a.m. to begin a shift at 5.00 a.m.
In April I applied to Servisair Globeground for a position as a passenger service agent. The hours would be easier for me and less exhausting. They contacted me to say my application had been successful. I was delighted to get the job and was due to start training in mid-June. I continued working in the security area until then.
On the afternoon of 17 April I was sitting with my colleagues Gina and Karl in the smoking area that used to be at Boarding Gate 23. We were waiting for the afternoon Aer Lingus transatlantic flights to depart. I had received a phone call from Brian earlier that day that had upset me. He was due to collect Conor from my house for his visitation time. As I was on a late
r shift that day, I had left the kids at my mam’s house because I felt it was safer. Brian had been to my house and got no reply when he knocked. When he called, I told him that I had left Conor in Mam’s and that he could pick him up from there. He was furious. I hung up the phone on him and continued working. Mam only lived five minutes away from me, so I didn’t know why he was so angry. It would have been easy to call around to her house and pick up Conor.
I sat with Gina and Karl, watching the planes arrive and depart on the runway. We were basically killing time until our flights were due to leave. Suddenly, I felt unwell and I had three sharp pains in my chest and could not breathe. Gina and Karl were concerned but I told them that I was all right. They insisted on calling the Airport Ambulance. Then they both started giggling. I knew that they were bored and they just wanted to have a bit of fun; they thought that it would be very amusing to ring the ambulance. I pleaded with them not to call it, but before I knew it I heard the siren as the ambulance made its way up the runway. They thought that it was hilarious when the paramedics strapped me into the stretcher and whisked me away to Beaumont Hospital. I could have killed them both.