Eilis was quiet. ‘That’s so sad, your poor Mam.’
‘I know…’ Melissa focussed on a tiny red dinghy bravely battling the swell. ‘It is sad,’ she said. ‘If that isn’t the understatement of the century.’
‘And does it… does it… explain things for you, give you any answers?’
‘I suppose. In some ways it does. It doesn’t make it any easier, I guess, but it’s part of her story I didn’t know before. So, I’m glad I know.’
‘And will you meet her? Your sister?’
‘Yes, soon. In the next few weeks. I’m feeling nervous already. Mam named her Tara Rose.’
‘What a lovely name,’ said Eilis.
‘It is, isn’t it? It’s the kind of name someone young, someone innocent would give their child, isn’t it.’
They looked at each other and smiled. ‘Yeah, exactly.’
‘She’s Frankie now though.’
‘A nice friendly name.’
‘Well, I hope she is.’
‘What?’
‘Friendly. I hope she likes us, you know, wants to be with us. I hope we’re not too weird for her.’
‘Maybe she’ll be too weird for you.’
‘Maybe. But I am sure she imagines us to be this amazing family but it’s going to be a lot for her, Mam’s drinking and her out-and-out strangeness. And then my strangeness. We’re not exactly the Obamas.’
Eilis laughed gently. ‘You’re not strange. At all. Anyway, everyone feels like that.’
‘They don’t. Look at Steph. Normal, nice family,’ said Melissa. ‘She is amazed that her life isn’t normal. I’ve no doubt it won’t right itself again, like one of those boats. But me? I’m always going to be half-capsized.’
‘I’m glad you managed to keep the analogy going.’
‘Me too.’
‘You’re wrong, though. You’re not remotely weird or strange. You’re amazing. Ask anyone. Ask us, ask your colleagues, ask Cormac.’
Melissa looked down, wishing everything was different but knowing that she had made a mistake and that ship, that friend, that love had sailed. ‘But I feel so weird and strange inside.’
‘Maybe,’ continued Eilis, ‘you just think you’re weird, but it’s actually what normal feels like. D’you see what I mean?’
‘Clear as mud.’
Eilis laughed. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you seem very normal to me. You seem like everyone else I know. Only nicer and saner.’
‘But I can’t even have a relationship. Look at me. I’m nearly thirty-nine and I don’t even have a boyfriend.’
‘Well, maybe you are looking at the wrong men. Maybe you only go for the ones you know who’ll reject you.’
‘But that’s deeply screwed up.’
‘Yes,’ said Eilis, laughing again, ‘but entirely normal. Why don’t you go for someone who won’t reject you?’
‘I don’t know anyone.’
‘Really?’ Eilis’s eyebrows were so high they almost reached her hairline.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘If you mean Cormac, he’s taken now. Has a girlfriend, who looks like some kind of supermodel. You wouldn’t want to stand next to her.’ She paused and looked again at the little dinghy. The sailors had given up and were heading back into the harbour. At some point, everyone has to give up, she thought. Admit defeat. ‘They look good together. You know, happy.’
‘But you’re gorgeous,’ said Eilis. ‘Inside and out.’
‘Shut up,’ said Melissa but she was smiling. Not like Erica, she was thinking. She’s gorgeous. I’m just ordinary, but she was pleased that Eilis was taking the chance to be nice to her. ‘I just don’t know when it’s all going to stop. When life is going to get easier, you know?’ She looked at Eilis to see if she understood. ‘When will this whirl, this non-stop-ness stop?’ She sighed. ‘I know I’m not making any sense, but it’s just that there’s always something around the corner, ready to pounce, you know? I just want some peace.’
‘I know exactly what you mean,’ said Eilis. ‘It’s just all so bloody confusing and relentless. Like, when am I going to have all the answers or any answers? Or when will I start to understand things. I’m constantly surprised by things.’
‘Yeah,’ Melissa laughed. ‘It’s like where did that come from? And that?’
‘So, to answer your question, I have no idea. But soon, I would hope. But probably never.’
‘That’s reassuring.’
‘Isn’t it?’ They smiled at each other.
‘So, what are you surprised at, then?’ asked Melissa.
‘Everything… like…’ A little dog came along to have a good nose at what they were doing and Eilis stroked his ears. ‘Like, when will I wake up and not feel sad about my Mam.’
‘Really?’
‘I know I should be over it by now. I know I should not give her much thought…’
‘Is that how it works? Grieving? Because, although I’m no expert. On anything. I don’t think it works like that.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Eilis. ‘But all I know is that the day she died I felt sick inside, nauseous. And I still feel exactly the same. I would have thought that would change… wouldn’t you?’
Melissa shrugged. ‘No, not necessarily. Everyone is different. Everyone processes things in their own way.’
‘But I don’t seem to have processed it in any way.’
‘But it was a hugely traumatic event. And the culmination of years of her illness. And then you went straight to do Medicine. And then working. You’ve never given yourself a break. Never had a chance to get over it.’
‘But, and I know this sounds crazy, but I don’t want to get over it. I don’t want to lose her. I know I have lost her. But I can’t let go totally. I can’t move on, because I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave her behind.’ Eilis fiddled with the hem on her skirt, rolling it up. ‘Which sounds certifiable. I’m aware of that.’
Eilis rarely spoke like this, she rarely opened up and, for the first time, Melissa was able to see the real Eilis, the person behind the perfect little face, the super-successful job, the home. She wasn’t this super-human, going to medical school in the weeks following my mother’s funeral type of person, but she was far lonelier than she could have imagined.
‘No, it doesn’t. At all,’ said Melissa, now taking her hand. ‘It sounds the opposite. Sane, in fact. And understandable. But… what if you talked to someone? Like a grief counsellor, someone who might help you talk about her, remember her. You don’t, you have never really talked about it, about her, have you? You’ve kept it to yourself.’
‘Yeah, I have, because… it was too painful and I kept waiting and waiting for it not to be but… I still miss her.’ She laughed awkwardly, embarrassed. ‘Sheesh! What a mess I am.’
‘No, you’re not. Not remotely. I think you’re amazing. You’re a survivor.’
‘Not anymore. And Charlie hates me now.’
‘Charlie?’ Melissa spluttered. ‘Who’s Charlie?’
‘I’ve met someone. Well I haven’t. At all. But I have, in a way.’
‘What?!’ She was one dark horse was Eilis McCarthy, and no mistake.
‘No, it’s nothing. Much,’ said Eilis. ‘I just like him. Really like him. But I ruined everything. We kissed and then I ran off in the middle of it all and… I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do about anything.’
‘Join the club. The club for the permanently clueless,’ said Melissa. ‘So is Charlie the guy with the flowers?’
‘Yes, how did you know?’
‘I don’t know, vibes or whatever. I just sensed something, when you mentioned them. So what’s the story?’
‘I don’t know, I just find myself so… attracted to him. I’ve never felt like this before, I keep thinking about him. His hands, mainly. But I like talking to him, I just don’t want to stop, I want more and more.’
Eilis had never spoken like that about Rob, thought Melissa. She laughed. ‘Wow. I’ve never hear
d you talk like that before. He sounds wonderful. But hands? Come on! What is he a piano player?’
‘No, he’s a gardener. But they are all strong and rough and I just like them.’
Melissa nodded, understanding the situation perfectly. ‘You fancy the arse off him… or the hands?’
‘Both,’ admitted Eilis and then she laughed. ‘I’m crazy, aren’t I?’
‘Do you fancy Rob? In the same way? Did you ever?’
Eilis stopped for a moment. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Never. Isn’t that awful?’
‘No.’ Melissa shook her head. ‘Probably more normal than people might suggest. So… what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. I probably, very likely, won’t do anything.’
‘And let life happen to you?’
‘Yes, isn’t that what people do?’
Melissa nodded. ‘The very idea of taking charge of my life and actually being a free agent. Ha!’
‘It’s so much easier,’ said Eilis, ‘to sweep everything under the carpet and have a nice sit down.’
‘And a cup of tea.’
‘Of course!’
‘You see,’ said Melissa. ‘I’m in love with someone too. Only I’ve just realized. And now he’s happily in love with a supermodel called Erica and he doesn’t want to see me anymore so…’
‘Cormac.’
‘Yeah, of course, only he’s moved on, apparently. We are officially not friends anymore. Well, I’ve think I’ve just been demoted to acquaintance.’
Eilis shook her head. ‘He’s been crazy about you forever and you only realize now that he’s the best thing since sliced white?’
‘He isn’t though, anymore. But I love him like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t know what to do with myself, I miss him so much. I just want to talk to him. And I miss Rolo. I’m dying without them.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Eilis.
‘Well, he’s not been much use.’
‘True. Oh Melissa!’ Eilis smiled at her, her forehead wrinkled with this new dilemma.
‘I’ll be alright,’ said Melissa, ‘I always am, aren’t I? The bounce-back kid, woman, whatever I am.’
They got up to walk slowly back to the car, past the boats in the harbour, and the children’s sailing club of a flotilla of tiny boats. A seagull skimmed past Eilis’ ear, as easy as a paper aeroplane.
‘You know,’ she said. ‘I would give up everything to have my mother back again, or another ten years with her or another five years. Just enough time so she would have seen me grow up a bit more, you know? Just a few more years.’
‘I know, you were so young. It was such a tragedy.’
‘Yeah, it was, it really was. When I look back on that young girl now, aged seventeen and eighteen nursing my mother and doing my exams. I don’t know how I did it, I really don’t. I would love to give that girl a hug, you know? Take care of her, a bit.’
‘Well, maybe you should.’
‘How?’
‘Be nice to yourself, don’t work so hard. Do things you love. Live the life you deserve.’
And suddenly Eilis had tears in her eyes. She turned around and faced into the wind and she spoke quietly.
‘What was that?’ said Melissa.
‘Do you think my mother would mind if I did that?’
‘No, I don’t think she would mind if you made a few changes in your life. I don’t think she’d mind at all.’
‘Thanks Mel.’
‘We have spent our entire lives trying to be perfect, you know that? Doing what others wanted, being the good girls but terrified to go after what we want, what might make us happy. I am going to try not being perfect for a while, and see what happens.’
‘Imperfect?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Imperfectly me,’ said Melissa. ‘Yeah, why not. Want to join me?’
‘Why not?’
‘Come on.’ Melissa had spotted the ice cream van. ‘We’ve still got half an hour before the party. Let’s buy that lovely eighteen-year-old an ice cream. Isn’t that what she’d like?’
‘Yeah,’ said Eilis. ‘I think she would.’
40
Steph
It was Nuala’s idea to have the party, a get-together of all her friends. ‘I haven’t seen anyone for ages… it would be so nice to say hello.’
Or goodbye, thought Steph, wiping away the tears that kept falling these days when it was most inconvenient. She would be buying bread and would notice an iced bun and think of Nuala. Or walking past the flower shop and think of the freesias she loved, or just random memories would crowd her mind and then she’d be off again. Like the time Steph saw a beautiful black velvet party dress in a magazine when she was eight, and Nuala made it for her, with the cream lace collar as well. She wore that dress to every party for years and years.
So they phoned around. No one couldn’t make it to the hello-goodbye party. All of Nuala and Joe’s friends were also happy to pretend that this wasn’t the end.
And when Nuala appeared in her flowery dress – bought for her ruby wedding anniversary – it hung off her bony shoulders and Steph, who was standing in the hall of the house with Rachel, felt another surge of emotion. Her mother, her lovely, kind, calm, beautiful mother was leaving her, forever. What does one do in that situation? How do you say goodbye, how do you live without someone you love so much?
‘Will you tie my scarf, Stephanie?’ she said. ‘You’re always so good at things like that.’
She passed over the pink silk scarf from Rome and Steph went to drape and knot it, but her fingers felt like sausages and she couldn’t quite do it. ‘I do love this scarf, Stephanie,’ said Nuala. ‘It’s so beautiful. Like you.’
Steph didn’t respond, she just carried on trying to make the scarf look good. ‘I must have lost my knack,’ said Steph. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’
Nuala took her hands. ‘Nothing’s wrong with you. Nothing at all.’ Steph felt the tears begin but she fought them back.
‘Here, I’ll do it,’ said Rachel. She flipped it over Nuala’s shoulders and folded it at the front.
‘You look gorgeous, Mum. What do you think, Rachel?’
Rachel had tears in her eyes. She nodded, unable to speak.
‘Look at us, what a pair,’ Steph said and she reached out and took her daughter’s hand and the two of them followed Nuala and Joe into the kitchen. Dingle had a ribbon around his collar and a big bow, also tied by Rachel. He wouldn’t let Nuala out of his sight, staying close to her ankles, guarding her, as if he knew.
There was a slight tremble about Joe, as though he was desperately trying to contain something. ‘How are you, Dad?’ Steph asked.
‘Never better,’ he said, with a big smile. It was hard to meet his gaze these days. Steph was scared about what she might see there. ‘It’s great to have your mother home where she belongs. And look at all this food – will it all get eaten, I wonder?’
All the food had been delivered by Nuala’s friends throughout the morning, plates covered in cling film, Tupperware boxes filled with fairy cakes and millionaire’s shortbreads and brownies. There were offerings from the walking group and others from the art class. Sandwiches – all varieties – were piled high. Peggy O’Sullivan had delivered a cheese and tomato quiche – she was famous for her pastry – and there was a tuna pasta salad from Noreen O’Brien. The pièce de résistance was, of course, by Imelda Cunnane, the self-appointed book club leader. She had made a cake in the shape of a book and its iced title was:
Welcome home wonderful friend!
Nuala Sheridan
Kick off was at two and it was three minutes to now.
‘We’re on tea-making duty, okay?’ Steph said to Rachel, as the doorbell rang heralding the first guest. And then they spent the afternoon boiling the kettle and pouring cup after cup. Hot drops and fresh cups were the order of the day and the two didn’t stop from either washing-up or searching for mugs and refilling the milk jugs.
&n
bsp; ‘Dad was right,’ said Steph. ‘It is like Downton Abbey in this house.’
The noise from the living room was tremendous with all the chatter. Parlourmaids Rachel and Steph handed around cake and sandwiches, which were then balanced on the edge of saucers, while ‘Moonlight Serenade’ from Joe’s collection rose from the record player. And there was Nuala, sitting on an armchair, looking, tired and washed out, and stroking the ears of Dingle, who was curled up on her lap. It was a wake for the living.
Eilis and Melissa were there, being brilliant and chatting to all of Nuala’s friends. They were passing around the quiches and sandwiches and the wizened cocktail sausages that someone had bought and the brilliant pineapple and cheese stuck into an orange that someone else had made unironically.
Earlier, that day, before the party, Steph and Rachel had taken Dingle for a walk on Killiney Hill and they began talking – about Nuala and about themselves, what they had both been through and how they had felt.
They were sitting on a bench looking towards Wicklow.
‘You and Dad… did you ever love each other?’ The question was so direct, it was one you couldn’t deflect. Rachel seemed fearless these days as though she had tired of the shilly-shallying and life was for getting on with.
‘Yes, we did,’ said Steph. ‘But not enough. We were so young. I was only twenty-one when I met him. But he tried and I tried and because we had you and we both loved you so much we stayed when maybe we shouldn’t have. Does that make any kind of sense?’
Rachel nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘I am sorry that instead of taking action, I let everything go this far.’
‘But what are you going to do?’
‘We’re going to separate, but Dad understands that I can’t really do anything while Mam… while Mam is so sick. We will though, and you and I will stay in the house…’
‘But we’ll be happier,’ said Rachel. ‘Hopefully.’
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