“He’s always hungry instead of settling down for long periods like the others did. You don’t leave the house much because you’re not comfortable breastfeeding in public. You can’t ever take a break from him without freaking out in case he needs a feed. And he won’t take a bottle of expressed milk because you’ve never introduced him to a bottle, even though I’ve reminded you to do so about ten times. These are all your choices. You’re acting like he’s your child.”
“I think you’ll find he is,” I said with a smile, trying to deflect Terry’s anger.
He wasn’t giving me an inch.
“He’s ours. You should really discuss your decisions with me instead of making them for us.”
“When, Terry? You’re never here. If you came home when you said you would instead of four hours late, I could sleep on and off during the evening and maybe then I’d have more energy for sex.”
“You know how badly the pubs are struggling, Holly! I’m trying to keep the roof over our heads by working all the hours God sends!”
“I’m not criticising you. I’m just explaining why I don’t get to talk to you.”
“I have a phone.”
“Oh, yeah, so you’re going to have a conversation in front of your staff about whether or not I should put my boobs away for once and for all? I don’t think so!”
And so we went on and on in circles, until eventually Oran got sick of us and woke screaming. When I started to feed him, Terry looked at me with something akin to disdain in his eyes. In that moment, I hated him.
He shook his head before walking out and going straight upstairs to bed. I knew I should have been feeling worried about what had just passed between us, but all I felt was extreme envy that he was getting to go to bed instead of me.
That, in itself, told its own story.
Chapter 29
1 August 1994
So, I went to Féile, Diary.
Here’s what happened. On Saturday morning when Cliff and Damo were due to head off to Féile, the landline rang in our house.
“Holly? It’s Damo. Listen, I never sold my Féile ticket. Do you fancy coming down to Tipp with us? Free ticket . . .”
“Oh! Em . . . well, I don’t have any money for the bus or drink or anything.”
“Not a problem. We have a B & B booked and you can crash with us. I’ll lend you the bus money and we’re going to buy a slab of beer in Tipp then drink it before we head inside. Oh, and a naggin of vodka that Cliff’s going to smuggle inside in his jocks.”
“Lovely. That’s a great incentive to drink!”
“Well, look, the ticket is there if you want it. If you don’t, it’s just going to go to waste, but don’t worry about it if you’re not interested.”
Was I interested?! You bet I was. My options were sitting here all day with Susie and Willie, or going to my first ever concert. The only problem was that I was just sick of living off other people’s freebies and felt like a total freeloader. On the other hand, the ticket was going to go to waste anyway . . .
“Okay, so – thanks a million! Where shall I meet you and Cliff?”
The whole day was the best craic ever, Diary! At least, once I got out of the door. Mum, predictably, wasn’t too happy about me going, but what can she do about it now that I’m eighteen? We didn’t stop laughing from the second I met the lads in town to get the bus to Tipp to when the concert ended. (Just to mention, Diary, I’ll have to continue to call my mother “Mum” here. I can’t get used to this Susie thing. You won’t tell, will you?)
We met up with a group of Damo’s garda friends in Tipp, all of whom were drinking cans of beer on the street, looking very happy with themselves and the world. I was a bit paranoid about Damo after what Cliff had said, but whenever I sneaked a glance at him he seemed really happy to see me getting on so well with his friends, so I relaxed a bit. After an hour or two, I realised that not only was I enjoying myself, but I was also really enjoying myself.
The Prodigy were just getting started as we walked into Semple Stadium. I had no idea who else had played before, but I supposed it didn’t matter now. We’d had so much fun on the street anyway that it had more than made up for anything we’d missed. I felt deliciously naughty for having done such a thing. My parents had always warned me against that kind of activity, but surely drinking on the streets with a bunch of guards couldn’t be that bad?
As a group, we pushed our way as close to the stage as possible without actually getting very far up at all. We could have done with forfeiting ten minutes of street time, but we’d all been too carried away on a tide of beer time to realise how late we’d left it to go inside. It wasn’t too bad for the guards – they were sorted, as they had to reach a minimum height requirement before they could even consider joining the force. Cliff wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t a total midget, either. I was the only dwarf who couldn’t see a blessed thing.
“Here, get up on my shoulders,” Damo said after watching me repeatedly bobble my head left and right while standing on my tiptoes. Before I could say yay or nay, he grabbed me and lifted me up. Not one to miss an opportunity, Cliff rowed in too and propelled my tail end up onto Damo’s shoulders. It was surreal to be so high above the crowd surveying the thousands of people moving up and down in one big wave. I kept waiting for someone to come over and tell me to get down, but it didn’t happen – probably because there really was nobody behind us at all. Even more surreal was the fact that I had Damo’s head between my legs.
The night seemed to pass by in minutes, Diary. Damo linked my arm as we walked out and glanced over at me. He said nothing, but everything that he was thinking was right there on his face. God only knew why, but he wanted me. I felt like I’d been jolted by a stun gun and looked away quickly. Something was going to happen very soon if I went along with things the way they were, Terry or no Terry. My resolve to be faithful to him was weakening by the second.
We walked en masse towards the town after the concert, with some members of the group talking about going to a nightclub. I knew I had to do something fast.
“I have to go back to the B & B, lads,” I said. “I’m starting to feel really sick.”
Cliff looked at me dubiously. “You don’t look sick.”
“You won’t be saying that if I throw up all over you. I really have to lie down.”
“Okay, we’ll go back with you,” Damo said.
“No, no. You two just drop me at the door and head off downtown yourselves. I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“But—”
“No, seriously, it’s fine.”
Damo looked crestfallen when the lads dropped me off and I again insisted that they went to the nightclub without me. I lay down on the floor of the room in the B & B to try to sleep, praying Damo wouldn’t score, even though I’d no right to be wishing that.
A few hours later, the lads came in. I pretended to be asleep, even though I hadn’t been able to get a wink. Next thing, Damo lifted me up and put me in his bed. I had to pretend to wake up, but he just said, “Shh, go back to sleep.” Then he tucked me in and took the place on the floor where I’d been.
Cliff was snoring in his bed within minutes, but I knew from Damo’s breathing that he was as wide awake as I was. It was excruciating, Diary. About a half an hour later, he started to snore and I was never so glad of anything in my life. My willpower wasn’t able for much more holding out. I went to sleep thinking how unfair it was that I’d never met anyone special before and then I met two within weeks of each other.
When we got home yesterday, Cliff came home with me for Sunday lunch. Now that he’s established his own life he isn’t as adverse to calling home as he used to be – as long as he doesn’t get too sucked into Blackbeg life again, he’s happy.
“So, did you enjoy the festival?” Cliff said through a gobful of spuds when Susie went out to get more gravy.
It was an innocent question, but his tone was a bit off and it wasn’t because of the spuds.
&n
bsp; “Yeah, it was great. The Prodigy are just brilliant live, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. And what about the company?”
“Oh, you were sparkling as usual. And Damo’s friends are a laugh, too.”
“What about the person you spent most of your time with?”
“Damo? You know we’re just friends.”
Cliff chewed slowly. “Nice of him to give you that spare ticket, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s a pity for him that he couldn’t sell it, though.”
Cliff grimaced. I thought it was down to Susie’s cooking for a second – she never seemed to cook the bigger spuds right through and you were always in danger of losing a tooth if you didn’t pick a smaller one. But then he said, “Damo didn’t try too hard to sell that ticket from what I saw. I have a feeling your name was on it all along.”
I looked down at my plate. He’d said exactly what I’d been thinking the previous day.
“What’s this? Is Damo into Holly?” Susie clanked the gravy down on the table.
“No,” I said vehemently. “Cliff just has an overactive imagination.”
She ignored me completely.
“I hope he’s not trying to come between Holly and Terry, Cliff. You’d better warn him off if he is. Poor Terry wasn’t invited to go off gallivanting to Tipperary, was he?”
“Thank God he wasn’t,” Cliff said when Susie left the room. “I can’t stand seeing him around you. He thinks he owns you. But you should see your face every time Damo’s around, Holly. It’s time for you to admit to yourself that Terry’s not right for you. What are you so afraid of?”
I finished my dinner quickly and left the room. I knew Cliff wouldn’t understand if I told him what I’m afraid of is hurting Terry. Without sounding big-headed, Diary – if it’s possible to say this without sounding big-headed – I know Terry is really, really into me. I don’t know why, I really don’t. I’m nothing special. Maybe it’s our similar backgrounds and shared sense of ambition, but for whatever reason, he thinks I’m his soul mate. I know this because he keeps on telling me. Besides, I can see it in the way he looks at me.
Sometimes, it’s so over the top it even creeps me out a bit. But I know it’s a good thing that he loves me so much. And yes, there’s something there with Damo, but I can’t just chuck Terry away because of that. He’s a good person and deserves better. I should be happy and grateful to have a boyfriend who loves me so much, Diary.
Shouldn’t I?
Chapter 30
With Sammy and Damo back in my life, it was easy for me to forget that I had to appear on a TV show. However, it was time for me to think about my TV presence again, regardless of how reluctant I was about it. I had to pop into Eire TV to be interviewed for the third episode about my weight loss endeavours with the magazine: why I felt I had to ask Kelvin for his help and how I felt about appearing on a dating show. Thankfully, my sideline activities were giving me a storyline in the show, even if my daughter was telling me I wasn’t exactly setting social media on fire.
While other reality TV shows had been accused of being storyboarded, Luke had done plenty of talking in the media as to how different Diary of a Boomeranger was going to be. The idea was that the flow of each show was meant to evolve naturally, but we still had to find something to film and if Eire TV weren’t going to storyboard it, the pressure was on me to come up with something. I’d be surprised if more than a token few minutes of coverage of me would even make it into episode three, though, because curiosity in Eve’s love interest story had gone through the roof.
It had been revealed that she’d been seeing a nineteen-year-old member of NorthStar, a boy band that had recently had a string of number ones, when she lived in London. Her boomeranger status was as a result of her leaving London broken-hearted when they split up. As for Stephanie, a lads’ magazine had offered to pay her enough money for a boob job if she let them take naked before and after pics, and that story was everywhere, too.
As I was leaving, I spotted Luke. I’d been hoping to catch up with him for ages. I really wanted to find out what he meant when he said I reminded him of himself. All sorts of awful thoughts were going through my head. Had he once been a chronic overeater or something?
“Luke! Hello!” I fell into step beside him. “How are tricks?”
“Hi, Holly. I’m good, thanks – busy as usual.”
Luke launched into a rundown of a new show he was working on as we walked to our cars. I waited for a chance to interject.
“Sounds great. You’ll definitely get the twenty-something demographic for that.”
“For a series of documentaries on rural Ireland in the sixties and seventies?”
Is that what he’d been talking about? I’d been too busy preparing what I was going to say to listen all that closely.
“Sorry. I know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but I just seem to be addicted to it.”
“Really?”
My cheeks grew hot. “I’m as transparent as a lace thong, aren’t I?”
His eyes widened. “You know, I don’t think there’s any right answer to that, so I’m going to refrain from commenting.”
A lace thong? What the fuck? Who was I these days?
We reached my car first.
“Right, this is me, so . . .”
“Okay, Holly. I’ll see you soon.” Luke waved and walked on towards his own car.
I got into my car, furious with myself. Why hadn’t I just asked him? I was going to be tormented now until the next time I saw him – and God only knew when that would be.
I started the engine and watched Luke get into his car. Then, before I knew what I was doing, I’d pulled my car out into the middle of the road – right in Luke’s path. He drove forwards as far as he could, a questioning look on his face.
I got out. So did he.
“Why are you blocking the road, Holly?”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me or my car. I still had a lot of weight to lose, after all.
“What did you mean when you said I reminded you of yourself, Luke?”
“Ah. I had a feeling that wasn’t just a casual chat earlier.”
“I’d call it preamble. I don’t like just jumping in there and asking something straight out.”
He looked at my parked car, then at his own.
“No. Clearly not.”
Blood rushed to my face. “Well, call me pedantic, but I’m the kind of person who tends to mull over what people say. Our paths don’t seem to cross often enough around here, so . . .”
“I really am in a hurry, Holly. I’ve a business meeting at the other side of town.”
“I won’t delay you, honest.”
Luke raised his eyebrows. “Sure you won’t. Okay, Holly, it’s like this. There was a time several years ago when I needed a fresh start. It’s harder to get that than you’d think, though. But Eire TV gave me the opportunity I’d been looking for at a time when I never needed it more.
“You were the same. You came to your interview desperate to be given a chance. Some of the reason why I gave it to you was because I know what it’s like to be in a situation where you don’t feel like you have many roads to go down.”
So what did that mean? He felt sorry for me?
“As I said to you in the canteen, though, that wasn’t the only reason. From a business perspective, you were an ideal candidate because of your backstory. Plus, you seemed to understand the lighter side of life.”
“A laugh a minute, that’s me.”
“And you have a healthy appreciation for insanity. That always helps.”
“Oh.”
“That last bit was a joke.”
“Oh, yes, of course it was.”
“Can I go now?”
“God, yes, off you go. Don’t let me keep you. You’ll need to hurry, really – traffic to the other side of town is bad at this time of day.”
“Yes, I’m trying.” Luke looked at my car and smirked. “Bye now, Holly.
”
“Cheerio!”
I ducked into my car and reversed back into my parking space, overwhelmed by a burst of mortification.
Had I really just done that?
“Oh no,” I said when I opened the door to Sammy later that day.
She was decked out in a black tracksuit and shiny trainers that didn’t have a speck on them yet. And she looked like she meant business. She even had sweatbands on her arms and forehead, for heaven’s sake.
“What do you mean, oh no?”
“I mean I’d just been about to text you and say I couldn’t go.”
“But you’re in full running gear!”
“Exactly! Look at me!” I gestured to my too-tight hoodie and too-short tracksuit bottoms. The tracksuit bottoms had spent too long on a hot radiator, but there was no excuse for the hoodie except overindulgence. “The bloody state of me. I can’t find anything else to wear, either – everything’s in bags in the attic. I can’t let anybody see me like this.”
“Anybody being Damo?”
“Of course not! What do you mean, Sammy? I’ve just broken up with my husband, for heaven’s sake! I’m not interested in Damo or anyone else. Really . . .”
“I’m not implying you are, you big eejit. I just know what you’re like. You don’t want an ex of yours to see you if you think you’re not looking your best. Well, I’m telling you, you look fine.”
“You can see my cankles, Sammy. I’ve been caught with cankles on display before. Once bitten . . .”
“The tops of your runners cover them.”
“I notice you didn’t deny the fact that I have cankles.”
“What’s the point? You have them, I have them. That’s what today is all about – bloody well trying to do something about them! Which we never will if we stay standing on this doorstep talking shite!”
Locked Out of Heaven Page 19