by Liz Nugent
By this stage, Susan had done a master’s in equality studies and was at the forefront of the Marriage Equality campaign. In May 2015, Ireland was to vote on the right for gay people to be fully married in the eyes of the law. I had helped her with this by asking Luke and the better-known actors on my books to publicly endorse the campaign and sometimes we spent evenings knocking on doors or boxing YES badges, bulk ordering T-shirts and making banners.
Daisy sometimes joined these activities. She now identified as bisexual. She could have identified as a chimpanzee for all we cared. We just wanted to see her happy. Susan’s house became a hub of activity for the YES campaign at weekends and it was great to see Daisy take an interest in something. She had written a song for the campaign but only performed it once at a rally. I wasn’t there that day, but Susan recorded it on her phone and it was a good song. Daisy wanted to post it to the campaign Facebook page, but Susan refused to allow it. She said it would end up on the internet and be stolen by some other singer. Susan told me privately that Will was worried people would post comments saying Daisy was fat or ugly or worse; and having read the below-the-line comments on social media concerning even the most beautiful girls, I was inclined to agree with him.
Luke came to help on these weekends too. He hadn’t had a psychotic episode in quite a while. He had become a bit of a film buff. He was on his meds and had joined AA but, annoyingly, had begun to ask questions of my management of his career, asking to see a statement of accounts for the previous decade, suggesting that the record companies must have ripped him off. I assured him that wasn’t the case. And it was easy to explain that all music revenue was down because of music streaming. It was mostly true. Airplay still paid but CD and iTunes purchases had tanked. Everything was on YouTube or Spotify.
I had planned a surprise for Susan, and when it came through, I wanted to be there when she saw it. I didn’t represent Saoirse Ronan, or any A-lister Oscar-nominated actors, though I had some promising graduates from acting school who were making shapes and getting noticed, so business was looking up. But I knew people who knew Saoirse and she had agreed to do a piece to camera advocating equal marriage. I knew this would go viral and that Susan would be delighted. It was the kind of thing Will should have got involved in. He’d actually met Saoirse loads of times. It would have cost him nothing to ask her, but Will showed no interest in the campaign. The way he mimicked his director partner, Gerald, was extremely irritating, but he’d be the kind of guy to say ‘How could I be homophobic when my business partner is gay?’ This infuriated Susan and that pleased me.
I knew that Daisy had moved out again, to a flat in the city, so I thought nothing of driving over to Susan’s early on a Wednesday morning. I picked up some bagels and the ridiculously expensive coffee she liked. I thought we might spend the morning together before I had to head back for work.
My reaction when Will opened the door in a T-shirt, a pair of boxers and Susan’s dressing gown was one of stunned silence.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘Who is it?’ I heard Susan calling out from upstairs.
‘It’s Brian. And he’s brought coffee.’ He took the two containers from my hands. ‘Come in,’ he said.
‘Are you … are you and Susan …?’
‘Ah, you know yourself, the occasional roll in the hay for old times’ sake. Don’t let on to Daisy. It will only confuse her. Poor thing has been having a dreadful time.’
He led me into the large open-plan kitchen and I sat on the sofa on which I’d made love to Susan the weekend before.
Susan appeared, stricken, as well she might be. ‘Brian, what are you doing here?’ Her voice went up an octave.
‘He brought coffee. Oh, I guess this one was for you. Here.’ He handed it back to me and went to the Nespresso machine to source his own coffee. He had never lived in this house, yet he clearly felt comfortable moving around it and acted like lord of the manor.
I couldn’t speak. I simply stared at her. She glared defiantly back at me.
‘Brian? Brian? Are you okay?’ Will was talking to me, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.
‘What? Yes.’
‘Oh, cool, you brought bagels too. We can share them, can’t we, between the three of us.’ It wasn’t a question. Will always took what he wanted.
‘Are you here about your little gay rights campaign?’
Normally, Susan would have taken him to task for that slight. But Will rambled on, oblivious to my shock and Susan’s embarrassment. ‘Daisy being bisexual? It’s just a phase, you know, she’ll grow out of it. It’s like a craze among young people. It’s because of the internet. They’re seeing all this stuff that turns them on. It’ll be something else next month. Daisy is as straight as a die.’ I nodded and grunted a few times. Susan made herself busy wiping the spotless countertop over and over again. Normally, she would have attacked him like a bull for a statement like that. So would I. Not today.
‘Right,’ said Will, ‘I’m going to have a shower and then I have to shoot off to the office. Let you two have your “campaign” meeting.’
Neither of us responded. We heard her bedroom door shut.
‘I can’t believe this, after everything … after all the years … you despise him. You told me. What the fuck, Susan?’
‘I’m sorry … It doesn’t mean anything, it was a one-off …’
‘Don’t make it worse by lying! He just told me about “the occasional roll in the hay”.’
‘Brian, please, look, we’ll talk about this later when he’s gone, okay? It’s hard to explain.’
I didn’t want an explanation. I needed to leave, because if I didn’t, I was afraid I would punch her, or murder him, or both of them. I ran to my car and drove as fast as I could back to the city. At home, I bypassed the office, went upstairs, lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
The next morning, the answer came to me. Revenge. Daisy. They both cared about Daisy. I cared about Daisy. But I needed to hurt them both, and I knew I could take Daisy from them. I had the video clip of her ‘Say Yes to Love’ song. I posted it to YouTube under an anonymous name, linked to it on all of the anti-gay-rights pages and waited. It didn’t take long.
Within a few hours, the stream of vitriol was savage and relentless. I worried that I’d gone too far. She would find out quickly that she’d become a target. I called her.
‘Daisy?’
Her voice was tearful. ‘Brian, someone put my video –’
‘I know, love, I’m coming to collect you. Stay where you are. I’m on my way.’
I drove straight to her flat and whisked her back to my house. I let her smoke a joint with shaking hands, while she sat on my sofa, crying and freaking out.
‘Daisy, I’ll fix this. Don’t worry. I’ll fix it.’
I posted the YouTube video to all the pro-equality Facebook pages and realized it had already popped up on loads of them. Thousands of messages of support were rolling in.
Daisy Drumm has a beautiful voice and a beautiful soul.
We heart you Daisy!
Ignore the haters, Daisy Drumm, we’re going to get you to number 1!
Where can I download this amazing song?
‘Daisy, did you upload this to Spotify yet?’
‘No, I wouldn’t know how.’
The golden egg had tumbled into my lap. I could actually monetize this. I could make Daisy happy. I could make her famous and take her from Will and Susan in one fell swoop.
I had a Spotify account. I told Daisy to watch the pro-equality sites to see all the positive messages coming in. I told her I would negotiate with the person who had stolen the song and put it on YouTube (me) and get them to take it down. Meanwhile, I created a YouTube channel in Daisy’s name and uploaded the song to iTunes at 99p per download, with the promise of a donation going to the Marriage Equality campaign.
‘Daisy, would you like me to be your manager?’
‘Manager?’
‘Yes, I think you’re about to become a media star and I want to handle things in the way you are most comfortable with, because we are not going to let the haters win this one, okay?’
She jumped up and hugged me, a thing she hadn’t done in several years.
I drew up contracts and had her sign them within the hour. I would courier them to my lawyer first thing in the morning.
‘Will I have to go on TV?’
‘Probably not until the referendum’s over, but the vote is next Friday, we have to move fast.’
‘But I’m not –’
‘Daisy, come on! This is the break you need. You’ve been so aimless for the last few years. You’ve written great songs –’
‘But Dad says I’m fat …’
‘You’re beautiful, Daisy. And look at how brave you are, standing up for your rights and your friends’ rights? How about standing up for your body shape too? Stop hiding yourself. I can get you a stylist and a make-up artist.’
‘Can you get me a personal trainer?’
I almost cried for the kid. My motivations may have been warped, but I was going to help her see how great she was. She didn’t need a personal trainer. She just needed affirmation and goals and a reason to get out of bed in the morning. That evening, I collected all her stuff from her flat. She agreed to live with me for a few months while we sorted out her career path. I let her ring her parents and tell them the news. She and I had ignored their calls all day.
Will was livid when he spoke to me. ‘You had her sign a contract without talking to me or Susan? You’re “managing” her now? Are you taking the piss here, Brian, because I do not consent to this.’
‘Didn’t you talk to her? She’s happy. And she doesn’t need your consent. She’s twenty-one.’
‘I’m going round to her flat to get her. This is ridiculous. I don’t want my daughter to be a poster child for gay rights.’
‘Will. Seriously? You’re so homophobic.’
‘Don’t be so sanctimonious, I just don’t want her used and abused on the internet. She’s fragile. You know it.’
‘I know you think I’m on the make here, but I love that kid like she’s my own.’ I let the words sit for a second. He didn’t notice. ‘I’m not going to let any harm come to her.’
‘You’d better not, Brian. She’s my child and I don’t want her hurt.’
I think that’s when I made the decision.
Susan was more difficult to pacify. ‘What are you doing, Brian? Is this because of yesterday?’
‘We’re finished, Susan. I was just convenient for you, but you know our relationship meant everything to me. I can’t make you love me. I couldn’t back in the day, and I can’t now. It’s over.’
She didn’t even care about that. ‘So why are you dragging Daisy into it?’
‘That’s got nothing to do with you, Susan. Some idiot got hold of Daisy’s video and posted it on YouTube and linked it to all the right-wing homophobic sites. So far today, I have turned Daisy’s worst nightmare into a dream. Tell me why you have a problem with that?’
‘Why has she moved in with you? Why can’t she stay in her own flat or come home to me?’
‘Because I need to watch her, to make sure everyone treats her right. She’s safe here.’
‘It’s all very coincidental, isn’t it, Brian? You find Will in my house, and the next minute you’ve moved my daughter into your house.’
‘Let’s not forget, she could be my daughter too.’
‘You asshole!’
‘I don’t care what you think any more, Susan. I waited twenty years for you, and even then I was your dirty little secret. There are lots of dirty little secrets in this family, aren’t there? I loved you.’
‘I never loved you, Brian. If you hurt her –’
I hung up.
Daisy burst into the room. ‘I’m number three in the Spotify charts!’
Great. I’d be able to sell ads on the YouTube channel.
In the few days before the referendum vote, I put Daisy into intensive media training with a friend in that end of the business. Thankfully, she enjoyed it. It was a risk to invest in her because if the equality side didn’t win, she wouldn’t be in much demand, but I was watching the polls, which suggested the referendum would pass by a narrow margin.
And on Friday 22nd May, it did even better than we hoped. We won with a 62 per cent vote. The celebrations the next day were as wild and colourful as you’d expect. I brought Daisy to Dublin Castle where the official announcement was made. Loads of people in the crowd recognized her. They started chanting her name and begged her to sing. I pressed her forward through the crowd towards the front where a makeshift stage had been erected. When the organizers saw Daisy, they beckoned her to come forward. She was lifted over the barriers with her guitar and led to a microphone. She said nothing, stared at the ground for a minute and then strummed her guitar. I saw Susan in the distance. Her eyes were on Daisy, a look of pure worry.
Daisy only had to sing the opening bars to the song in a slightly wobbly voice before the crowd sang with her. The entire upper courtyard was singing Daisy’s song and all had phones in the air recording this historical moment. The Taoiseach came over and hugged her. She was then carried shoulder high through the crowd. She had become their mascot and their emblem and the joy on her face was something to behold. I saw Susan approaching through the mayhem. She simply said, ‘Thank you,’ but I didn’t even respond. My plan was only starting. I put a press release together announcing Daisy’s availability to talk on the subjects of equality and fat-shaming and to sing on stage or screen.
Daisy was elated and exhausted after the first week of interviews and appearances. The impromptu performance had given her the confidence boost she so badly needed. I did not take Susan’s or Will’s calls. Daisy told me they thought she was doing way too much, too soon. Luke called to the house under instruction from Will and told me Daisy was too young for this attention and that I should learn from his own mistakes. I tried to disarm him by asking him to join me in managing her. He knew better than anyone the pitfalls of early stardom. ‘I don’t know, Brian, it’s different now, everyone’s filming everything and putting it on the internet. It’s much crueller than my day. You can’t protect her from the shit any more.’
I tried. I got her into regular twice-weekly therapy sessions. I allowed her to smoke cannabis in the house on condition she did it with her pals and not on her own. Her girlfriend wasn’t a bad kid, but she was jealous of Daisy’s success. Daisy was now strong enough to dump her. I monitored her drinking. I treated her like a daughter and she responded like one. She said she liked living with me. I said I liked having her there. We fell back into the tactile ways we’d had when she was a kid. She hugged me at night when she was going to bed. I lavished her with attention.
I agreed when she said her parents were nagging her. I implied that Will had said cruel things about her weight (he had), but that he’d just said them out of concern. I suggested that Susan might not like Daisy being an independent woman with money and a career of her own because Susan was bored now the referendum was over and had a need to be nurturing. In all kinds of small ways, I broke down the trust Daisy had in Susan and Will. It was like pushing an open door.
And then, two weeks later, Will and Susan turned up on my doorstep demanding that Daisy should pack her bags and go home to Susan’s right now. I sat back and let Daisy stand up to them. Susan said she should check how much money I was making out of her. Daisy countered that she’d never made any money before and that she was living rent-free thanks to my generosity. Will made the fatal mistake of suggesting out loud that Daisy had put on weight. Daisy accused her father of fat-shaming her, admitting that she’d spent years hating herself for not being able to live up to her father’s impossible standards.
‘What are you doing, Brian? Why are you doing this? She doesn’t want to be a media star. She’s too young. You sa
w what it did to Luke. How can you do this?’ Susan demanded.
Daisy screamed at her mother. ‘Stop making decisions for me. I’m an adult. Brian is the only person who ever cared about me. Leave me alone! I can make a difference to people’s lives now. You are just jealous, both of you. I don’t even know if I want to be a media star, but it’s worth trying to be something, to be an advocate for people like me.’ She dissolved into tears and rushed from the room.
Susan couldn’t look at me. I suspect she knew what this was all about. Will gave me hell. ‘There’s a difference between a father and a godfather, Brian! You have completely crossed the line. Mum is probably rolling in her grave right now.’
‘Poor William, such a mummy’s boy.’ I couldn’t help saying it.
He grabbed me by the shoulder, but somewhere among the clumsy wrestling and struggling, I landed a punch squarely on his nose. Susan clamped her hand over her mouth, afraid to scream in case it alerted Daisy upstairs. Will staunched the blood with a linen handkerchief.
‘You prick,’ he said through the muffled handkerchief as he stormed out of the door. Susan followed him.
That night, from a comb left in the main bathroom, I took a strand of Daisy’s hair with the follicle attached, a swab from the inside of my mouth and a strand of my own hair and sent them off to a DNA lab in the UK.
Part Two
* * *
STRANGERS
38
2017
William
I bumped into a journalist at the Galway Film Fleadh. Grace Kennedy was a woman I knew who wrote a column for one of the weekend supplements. She had always given me favourable coverage and in return I bought her drinks and secured one-on-one interviews with our film’s stars, but she was more beholden to me than I was to her. We had slept together once or twice over the years, but not since my diagnosis. My doctor had reassured me that I could have a full sex life again without the need for a condom as my viral load was negligible. I’d had some dalliances with women in the intervening year, but the shock was still raw and sometimes I needed Viagra to help me along. I was reassured over and over that I would live a full and healthy life as long as I stuck to the tablets. My daily pills were kept in a vitamin bottle beside my bed so that even the cleaning lady would never suspect.