16
Elise opened the door to Sarah’s shop, Seaside Blooms, and the little bell tinkled. She’d rung Sarah to explain what had happened.
Sarah put down the bouquet she was making and rushed over, looking very worried. ‘Are you okay?’
I nodded. ‘I’m grand. Embarrassed, but grand. I don’t think I’ve ever fainted before.’
‘We’ve had a pretty chilled afternoon,’ Elise said. ‘I got Gary to pop round and give her a once-over, but he says she’s fine and should just rest for a bit.’ Elise’s ex was a GP, a handy person to call on in circumstances like this.
‘Am I okay to stay at yours tonight?’ I asked Sarah.
‘Of course. You know you’re welcome any time. Cuppa?’
‘Coffee, please.’
‘Are you stopping?’ she asked Elise.
‘I’ve got some things to do so I’ll love you and leave you. Take it easy, Clare.’ She hugged me then left the shop.
‘So, what happened?’ Sarah asked. ‘Elise said it was something to do with Daran, but she didn’t say what.’
I was about to tell her but the door opened and several customers came in. ‘You need to get on with your work,’ I said. ‘Do you mind if I have my drink out the back? I’ll tell you everything when we get back to yours.’
After dinner at Sarah’s, Nick went to the pub with Stevie, leaving Sarah and me to talk. I opened up to her properly for the first time ever. I told her about my brothers and sisters, how strict Da was and how Ma had always acted as if she hated me. I talked in detail about the Mass where I first saw Daran and how our secret relationship had developed. The more I spoke, the more the memories tumbled out.
‘You’re really going back to Ireland to confront your dad?’ she asked, when I’d finished. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Of course. You’ve always been there for me. I want to be there for you.’
‘Thank you. That means a lot, but this is something I need to do on my own. I may need you when I get back, though.’
‘I’ll be here. When are you going?’
‘I might fly out on Thursday night and confront them on Friday. If I chicken out, I’ve still got Saturday.’
‘You’re absolutely sure you don’t want some moral support?’
‘I’m sure. Besides, you’ve got a business to run. I know you’re the boss but you’ve been away for three weeks already. Another few days would seriously be taking the piss, wouldn’t it now?’
She laughed. ‘You might have a point.’
It was after 3 a.m. before we finally called it a night. As I brushed my teeth, it struck me how great a friend Sarah had been over the years and how much I’d taken her friendship for granted. It must have been really difficult to deal with my mood swings and my refusal to talk about the past, yet she’d put up with it for thirteen years. I vowed never to take our friendship for granted again.
17
‘What the hell are you doing here? You’re not welcome.’
‘Hello, Ma,’ I said.
Her pale-grey eyes flashed with hate and bitterness. Her dark hair, streaked liberally with grey, was pulled back into a bun that emphasised the hard angles of her jaw and cheekbones. Frown lines creased her forehead. There was no evidence of laughter lines. My stomach churned and my first instinct was to turn round, jump into my hire car and speed back to Cork. But my need for answers was greater than my fear. Somehow, I mustered the strength to keep my shoulders back, my head held high and my voice steady. ‘I’d like to say it’s great to see you but that would be a lie.’
‘You cheeky… What do you want?’
‘I want to speak to Da and I’m not leaving until I do.’
‘He’s not here.’
‘We both know that’s a big fib. I saw him at the window just now. You might as well let me in because I’ll only stand here and make a scene if you don’t.’
‘You wouldn’t.’
‘Is that a challenge?’
I stood on the doorstep, arms folded, holding her stare.
‘Let her in, Maeve,’ shouted Da from the living room.
Ma turned her back on me and yelled, ‘She’s not welcome here.’
‘I didn’t say she was welcome. I said let her in, woman, before the neighbours see her.’
Ma shook her head and narrowed her eyes at me but stepped back and held the door open.
‘You’ll not be wheedling your way back into his affections, you know. He hates you.’ She practically spat the words.
I took a deep breath as I followed her into the living room. I didn’t want to be part of their lives but hearing that Da hated me still hurt.
‘So, you came crawling back.’ Da glared at me.
I couldn’t help looking round me. The wallpaper had changed and there might have been a new carpet but everything else was still the same, from the gold-coloured sofa with tassels around the base to the huge-backed TV, to the dresser covered in decorative plates depicting Jesus and Mary, and wooden crucifixes.
‘You’re not the prodigal daughter, you know.’ He folded his newspaper and tossed it onto the floor before standing up. ‘There’s no forgiveness in this house.’
‘I never expected to be welcomed back. And I wouldn’t want to be. As for your forgiveness, I don’t want it and I don’t need it.’
‘I’m not going to invite you to sit,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to sit.’
‘And you needn’t think I’ll be offering you any tea,’ Ma said.
‘All I’ve come for is some information, then I’ll be out of your lives forever.’
Da scowled at me. ‘As far as we were concerned, you were already out of our lives forever. Yet somehow you’re here for the second time this month.’
‘I want to know why you were so quick to disown me.’ How I kept my voice calm, I’d never know.
Ma let out a high-pitched sound like a hysterical laugh. Da shook his head. ‘I should have thought that would be obvious,’ he snapped. ‘You brought shame to your family and damaged a good man’s name with your whoring ways.’ The bitterness with which he spat out the last words cut through me. The years hadn’t softened him at all.
‘We were in love.’
He stamped his foot on the floor like a child having a tantrum. ‘Blasphemy.’
‘It’s not blasphemy. Daran was young, I was young and we loved each other.’
‘You seduced him, so you both had to pay the price.’
‘Why were you so quick to believe it was me who seduced him?
‘I used to watch you, and how men and boys reacted to you. You weren’t studious like Aisling or plain like Nia. You were precocious and curious. As a toddler, it was refreshing. As a growing woman, it was dangerous. Your ma and I always knew you’d let us down. You brought shame on our family name.’
‘How? How could I have caused shame when nobody knew about the baby?’
‘It wasn’t just the baby,’ Ma cried. ‘It was everything about you. The way you dressed, the way you spoke, the way you flicked your hair. Everything about you said “harlot” and, to be sure, look what you became – Jezebel herself.’
Watching her eyes flash with hate and the colour in Da’s cheeks darken with each word, I realised it was pointless and that they weren’t worth it. Why had I thought for even a second that we might have a sit-down conversation tinged with regret and sadness, instead of a slanging match? Clearly, their opinion hadn’t changed since the day they’d disowned me. It seemed that time had deepened their hatred instead of easing it. ‘Seventeen years haven’t mellowed either of you, so I’ll be going soon. Before I do, I want to know two things.’
Da crossed his arms. ‘The first will be…?’
‘Why did you get Great-Aunt Nuala to say that my baby had died?’
A flicker of something flashed across his eyes. Doubt, perhaps? ‘The baby did die,’ he declared, holding himself upright and strong.
‘Bullshit,’ I snapped. ‘Shannon’s alive, and you know it.’
He visibly flinched when I used her name. He probably hadn’t realised I’d named my daughter. His granddaughter. ‘How do you know?’ he snapped.
‘Nuala wrote to me on her deathbed. She couldn’t live with the guilty secret on her conscience. She told me why she went through with it. I want to know why you did. I was giving her up for adoption. I wasn’t about to return to Ireland with my baby in tow to bring shame on you all, so why take it that step further?’
‘Because.’
‘Because what?’ I was struggling to sound calm now.
‘Because I had no choice.’
‘That’s bullshit too. Why did you do it?’ I yelled. ‘Why did you tell such an evil lie?’
‘Because.’
‘That’s not an answer, and you know it. Why?’
‘Because I wanted you to feel what I was feeling.’ He uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists by his side. I sensed it was taking all his willpower not to strike me.
‘What does that mean?’
‘The day I found out about your treachery, you became dead to me. I wanted you to know what it felt like to lose a child.’
‘I wasn’t dead.’
‘You were. You are. I told you back then that you were dead to me and I meant it. Now leave this house and, this time, don’t ever return.’
I stared at him, wanting to say more, but my legs were shaking, my heart was racing and I was desperate to leave. After all these years, he still terrified me and I hated that he had that power over me. Ma was less terrifying – possibly because there’d never been any love lost between us – but I still squirmed in her presence.
‘I’ll go,’ I said, hoping my voice sounded confident. ‘And don’t you worry, there’s nothing for me here anymore without Daran. I won’t be back.’
He followed me to the door. ‘Like I give a damn what you do with your life. You’re not my daughter. I don’t care about you or anything that happens to you. Why is that so hard to get through your thick skull?’
I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn’t form any words. Ma appeared by his side, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
‘Not that I’m remotely interested,’ Da said, ‘but what was the other question?’
‘What?’
‘You said you had two questions to ask me. What was the second one?’
‘It was… em…’ I tried to stand tall and force out the words, but the two hateful pairs of eyes boring into me were too much. And it didn’t matter. I had planned to ask him how he lived with himself knowing what he’d done, but I could see the answer right in front of me. Quite easily. He hated me and when he’d said I was dead to him, he’d really meant it.
He planted his hands on his hips. ‘Great second question, Clare. I bet you’re really glad you flew here to ask that. I think we’re done here, so we are.’ He pointed to my hire car parked outside the house. ‘Get in that thing and get out of here. I never, ever, ever want to see you again. Is that clear?’
I nodded. Crystal clear.
I made it four miles outside Ballykielty before I had to pull over and give way to my emotions. Facing him again had been terrifying, and I’d managed to let him intimidate me and throw me out yet again. I hadn’t had the last word. I hadn’t stood up to him. For Christ’s sake!
As I dabbed my eyes and blew my nose, a battered silver Micra pulled up in front of me and a woman with shoulder-length dark hair got out and strode towards my car. Oh Christ, who’s this now? Someone to escort me to the airport and make sure I don’t bring more embarrassment to the village?
She knocked on the window. I reluctantly wound down the window, preparing myself for a torrent of verbal abuse at best, or a slap at worst.
‘Clare? Is it really yourself?’ asked the woman.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘Your big sister.’
I did a double take. ‘Aisling?’
She nodded and her face crumpled as the tears fell.
I clambered out of the car and she rushed at me, hugging me tightly. ‘Can you forgive me for not coming after you? I’m your big sister. I should have protected you, but I did nothing. It doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you every day since you left. I failed you, so I did. I’m so very sorry, Clare.’
I relaxed into her arms. ‘I don’t think there’s anything you could have done. I don’t think he’d have let you.’
She released me from her embrace but kept her hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. ‘I can do something now, though. Can we go for a drink?’
‘You’re sure you want to be seen with the enemy?’
‘Enemy, my arse. You’re my sister.’
I followed Aisling in my car as she drove through various villages to the outskirts of Cork and a pub called The Burnt Whiskers.
‘I’m friends with the owner,’ she said as we walked across the car park. ‘Nobody from our village comes here. We’ll be safe to talk properly with no risk of Ma or Da appearing.’
‘How on earth did you know I was here?’
‘My friend Niamh lives over the road. She saw you arrive and phoned me. I was in the supermarket and I abandoned my trolley and sped over, praying I hadn’t missed you.’
For the next three hours, we talked non-stop. Aisling had been approaching twenty-two and was completing the final year of a science and teaching degree at Limerick when I was banished to England. She’d come home for the Christmas holidays but was at a New Year’s Eve party when it happened. She’d woken up the next morning to find my bedroom empty and was told that I’d decided I wanted to study in England.
‘It was the oddest thing,’ she said. ‘They never breathed a word about it. I had to ask why your room was empty. When I say “empty”, I mean completely empty. There was no furniture or anything.’
I gasped. ‘They’d gutted my room?’
Aisling nodded. ‘It was like you’d died and all trace of you had been wiped out. The thing about studying in England made no sense. You’d have had to go back a couple of years at school. Why would you do that? Da went mad at me for questioning him. I was told it was none of my business and I should drop the subject or I could get the next train back to Limerick and see how I managed the rest of my degree with no financial support.’
‘That was harsh.’
‘He’s a harsh man, Clare, as you’ve experienced first-hand. I tried to quiz Nia about it. She told me that Father Doherty came round, she and the twins were sent out to visit friends, and when they came back, you were gone and your room was empty. I asked her whether she thought your sudden departure was something to do with your secret boyfriend but—’
‘You knew I was seeing someone?’
‘Someone kept stealing my underwear and I couldn’t imagine it was Nia or Ma.’
I clapped my hand over my mouth. ‘Jesus! I’m sorry. I had no money to get my own. I didn’t mean to keep them.’
She laughed. ‘It’s fine. I found it quite funny. Anyway, Da chose that very moment to walk past and overhear me. He got really jittery and insisted that you’d never had a boyfriend and had always wanted to study in England. One more word and I could join you.’
‘I’m sorry you got into trouble.’
Aisling smiled. ‘Don’t be. I could handle myself by then. Moving to Limerick was the best thing I ever did because I got free from his control and found out who I was. I discovered I had a voice and opinions and a life that wasn’t controlled by him and the Church. But I also wasn’t stupid. I needed his financial support to finish my degree so I dropped the subject at home. I did my Miss Marple bit out of earshot and discovered that Daran McInnery had been whisked away from the village and nobody seemed to know why. Rumours ranged from his ma being ill to an inappropriate relationship with a married woman, but a million little things suddenly made sense and I just knew that he was your secret boyfriend and that both of you leaving wasn’t a coincidence.’
‘Did you
say anything when you’d made the connection?’
She laughed. ‘I must like to live dangerously because I confronted Da. He denied it, of course, but his eyes gave him away. You might remember that I’d always been close to Father Doherty. I might have made out that Da had confirmed the relationship. Believing I knew everything, Father Doherty mentioned the baby. I’m so sorry for what Ma and Da did to you, so I am.’
‘Father Doherty was there too, you know.’
Aisling nodded. ‘He told me. He also said it was the worst thing that he’d ever experienced. Da had led him to believe that you’d have the baby, it would be adopted, then you’d come home and continue as before. He had no idea they were going to cut you off forever or he’d never have helped them.’
‘To be fair, he did try to stop them but their minds were set. They told me I was dead to them and would never be welcome in their lives. Ever. Something they reminded me of again just now.’
Aisling closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘You were sixteen. I know you were mature, but you were still only sixteen. What were they thinking?’ She reached for my hand across the table. ‘I want you to know that I wrote to you as soon as I knew but I had nowhere to send the letters. Father Doherty wouldn’t tell me where you’d gone but he said he’d pass my letters on. I wrote every week for six months, then every month for six years.’
‘What made you stop writing?’
‘More like who. A package arrived with all my letters unopened and a letter from Great-Aunt Nuala. She admitted that you’d stayed with her in Cornwall and you’d gone to university but she had no idea where you were anymore, so I might as well save myself the postage. I should have tried to find you but I was married by then; I had a baby, and life just got in my way.’
‘You have a child? I’m an auntie?’
She smiled. ‘Twice over. Torin is ten and Briyana is eight, but I’m separated from their da. He lives in Manchester now.’
Coming Home to Seashell Cottage Page 9