Juliette
Rosie wakes me with her mutterings about makeup and horse-riding and Shelley this and Shelley that and I realise, much to my embarrassment that I have fallen asleep while our visitor has been sitting out in the living room. Sweet Lord above, I only came in here to change my shoes, and thought I’d have a five-minute rest on top of the bed, but here I am almost an hour later being woken from a deep slumber that I hadn’t planned.
‘Please, don’t wake her up on my account,’ I hear Shelley call from down the hallway. ‘I’m going to slip off now anyhow. I can’t thank you enough for such a wonderful day, Rosie. Tell your mum I will see her again when she’s up to it.’
Rosie throws up her arms and leaves the bedroom to stop Shelley from making a quick exit.
‘You don’t have to go,’ I hear her say as I try to gather my thoughts and wake up from my slumber. ‘You can watch a movie with us and we could have some pizza later? Come on, please stay!’
Check out my daughter being ‘hostess with the mostest!’ Shelley should feel very privileged indeed as it’s not everyone Rosie likes having around, especially during mother and daughter time.
‘I’m awake now,’ I call out to Shelley who must be terribly confused as to what is going on. ‘Just give me a few seconds. Maybe stick on the kettle, will you? I might choke if I don’t get a cup of tea quickly.’
And on that note, I’m not just being cheeky. Those bubbles have gone to my head from earlier and I’m really thirsty right now. Plus I’m really tired. I could sleep for a million years right now but I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead, won’t I?
‘I’ll make the tea,’ says Rosie. ‘Shelley, will you stay? Please?’
I make my way out into the narrow hallway of the cottage to see Shelley standing at the living room door, her handbag on her shoulder and her dog at her feet. She looks like she needs me to rescue her from Rosie’s insistence that she stay for a cuppa. She also looks different, a lot brighter than before.
‘Rosie fixed my makeup,’ she says which explains her appearance, but for the first time since I laid eyes on her, I see an innocence shine through when she makes that simple statement about having her make up done. I see before me a girl who lost her mum at a young age too, someone who is longing for love from someone who won’t judge her, but will gently nudge her in the right direction through her sea of grief.
‘Well, don’t you look just like a movie star,’ I say to her with a smile, trying in the most superficial way to make her feel better. I long to hug her and tell her she is stronger than she thinks, but she is like a fragile little bird before me and I know she is doing so well to take these baby steps, already so much better than the frail, pitiful creature who served me in the boutique only yesterday.
‘I think I’ll slip off home now,’ she tells me in a whisper, looking at her watch. ‘It’s almost six in the evening and I need to get ready for work in the morning, and I’m sure Matt will be in touch soon and I can’t wait to tell him all about you two. You’ve really made me smile today. Thank you, Juliette. It’s been a while since I’ve smiled, believe me.’
‘And you’ve made a little girl in there a lot more content, so I’ve a lot to thank you for as well, Shelley,’ I say to her. ‘I think you’ve got a fan there. A little friend if you want one.’
She seems genuinely touched as she shrugs off her modesty.
‘Well, I am very honoured if that’s the case,’ she says to me, her beautiful face breaking into a smile.
‘You deserve to smile a whole lot more,’ I tell her. ‘You deserve to love and be loved and experience all the good things in this world. Life is good, you know that, Shelley. I don’t think I realised just how much more there is I want to do in this life until I was told that I can’t, so I plan to pack in as much as I can until I, quite literally, drop. Don’t stop living before your time is up.’
Shelley looks at the ground and then back at me.
‘You’re a remarkable woman, Juliette,’ she says to me. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before. You are one in a million, but I’m sure you’ve been told that before. If I only had half your strength and positivity.’
‘Ah, stop,’ I say to her, feeling my cheeks blushing. ‘I have my meltdown moments too, don’t you worry. Plus I’ve had more than a few hard lessons recently myself and I suppose it all depends on how we react to the crap we are dealt with. No one gets it easy. None of us are getting out of here alive, so we may as well grab it by the horns while we can.’
I walk towards her but then decide to keep my distance as I get the impression Shelley doesn’t do hugs that often and I don’t want to scare her off, even though I think a good strong hug would do her the world of good.
‘I’ll take Merlin home and keep working on getting my life back together,’ she tells me, just as Rosie announces tea is ready in the kitchen. ‘Thank you so much. You have moved mountains for me today.’
‘Can you please stay for tea?’ asks Rosie, but I do think that Shelley’s time with us has come to an end, for today anyhow.
‘I’ll catch you both tomorrow maybe?’ she says. ‘I have to work in the shop but after that, you know where I am. In fact, I’ll give you my number.’
She takes out a business card for Lily Loves from her handbag and her hand trembles as she gives it over. This is a big step for her, I can tell. Is this what it’s like in life after death? Is this the empty shell I am going to leave behind in my daughter? I desperately hope not.
‘We’ll give you a call and you’re more than welcome to join us anytime for breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever,’ I say to her, trying to lift her spirits by giving her something, anything, to take us up on. She looks like she might cry as she purses her lips and nods her head in response.
‘And Merlin too, of course,’ says Rosie. ‘I’d love to go horse-riding someday this week like I mentioned before if you’re up for it. Mum hates horses and it would be nice to have the company of someone who actually gets it.’
‘I do not indeed hate horses!’ I correct my daughter. ‘My goodness, you’re making me sound like Cruella de Vil! I am a bit afraid of horses, that’s all, but I certainly don’t hate them.’
Rosie rolls her eyes and mouths to Shelley. ‘She hates them. She pretends she’s allergic. Swear.’
‘I’ll text you my number now so you can give us a shout if you ever feel like witnessing my great hatred for horses,’ I tell Shelley. ‘Can I call you a taxi or are you okay to walk? At least it’s nice out.’
‘A taxi around here?’ she laughs. ‘I’d be home before you could explain the directions. It was such a lovely evening, seriously. You have no idea how much you have lifted my weary spirits.’
‘And you mine,’ says Rosie, and I gulp, wondering just exactly how much my daughter knows about my reason for choosing to come here to find her father without me telling her as yet. Maybe I will tell her tomorrow, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. But for tonight, it’s movies and chilling with my girl after an interesting day. And for me, you can’t get any better than that.
Shelley
I walk through the village of Killara with my dog by my side and my head tilted just a little bit higher than it has been in a long, long time. It’s a gorgeous evening and I stop at the shop window of Lily Loves and take in all of its greatness, allowing myself just a little moment of glory on how far I have come.
Everyone thought I would close the shop after Lily died and I guess I would have had great reason to, but Eliza stepped in and found me an assistant in Betty – an eccentric older lady from Limerick who was looking for something to keep her mind active and her eye for fashion alive. I did all the ordering from home for a long time while Betty, who in the early days I rarely had to meet face to face, kept things ticking over on the shop front while I took my time getting back on my feet again after what happened.
I’m still easing myself in to my work and it has been a life saver really to be able to focus on delivering the very best in vintage bargains for my ever-growing fan base of customers.
I work a maximum of three hours a day in the shop itself, afternoons mainly. I couldn’t dream of getting out of bed and organised any earlier than that now that I don’t have my baby girl’s sweet voice to cry out to me first thing, insisting that she wants her breakfast and that her favourite teddy, La, wants hers too. I have no idea where La ever came from but she was a humble little thing, just a pink ball of fluff with two ears and a cute nose that my daughter took everywhere with her every day for the short three years of her life. La of course is packed away in a zipped-up case, under Lily’s bed and I don’t think I will ever be able to look at her, or touch her or smell her again.
‘Shelley! Oh my goodness I thought that was you! How good to see you!’
Oh no. I close my eyes. Oh please, no. Merlin stirs from beside me and I get him to sit at ease.
I inhale sharply and my vision blurs when I turn to meet the voice of one of my best friends, Sarah – the one who left me the flowers yesterday and the one who I so carefully avoid every day of the year in case I take a step backwards when I see her with her children. Her six-year-old daughter stands beside her and she is pushing a toddler boy, her son Toby in a stroller. I think I am going to be sick.
‘Th-thank you for the flowers yesterday,’ I say, but it doesn’t even sound like my own voice when it finally comes out. ‘How is – how are – I’m sorry I was just in a dream world there staring in at the shop window. How are you?’
Sarah tilts her head to the side and nods, placing her hand on my shoulder.
‘I heard Matt’s away,’ she says to me, with genuine concern. ‘Look, I know you’re taking things at your own pace and you’re quite right to do that, but is there anything I can do? Anything at all?’
I glance down at her daughter Teigan who was Lily’s best friend since the day she was born. Teigan has no idea who I am of course, it has been so long since I dared set eyes on her and I don’t think I am ready to do so yet. She is licking an ice cream that is almost bigger than her face and her little brother is covered in white also, both of them so far removed from life and all its cruelties which is exactly how they should be of course.
‘There’s nothing really,’ I tell Sarah, but I can’t meet her eye. ‘I’m just heading home now to feed Merlin here and have an early night. I’m okay, I swear to you.’
‘Oh, Shelley, are you sure?’
I nod unconvincingly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and still not looking her way.
‘I’m actually a tiny bit better than I was yesterday,’ I say to the pavement, ‘and the day before and the day before that. One day at a time as my dad keeps reminding me. I’ll get there, Sarah, but thank you.’
I glance at Sarah who looks like her own heart is breaking for me. I want to tell her about Juliette and Rosie and their connection to Skipper but I don’t think it’s my place to say all of that. I am nearly sure that Sarah, a native of Killara and one of Matt’s oldest friends long before we became close, once was a girlfriend of the enigma that is Skipper. I say enigma simply because his name seems to crop up so often and everyone who mentions him seems to have a story to tell about him though he died so young, but none more than my new friend Juliette who has a living piece of him all to herself.
‘Call me when you’re ready,’ says Sarah when her children start to get fed up and the conversation, as usual with me these days, is going nowhere. ‘No pressure, that’s what I always say to you, but you know where I am. We could go out on the boat like we used to, just you, Matt, Tom and I?’
We really did used to have such fun sailing around the Atlantic coast when we hadn’t a care in the world. Tom, Sarah’s husband, was another of Matt’s sailor friends and they always wound Matt up that he was the only person in Killara to never have found his sea legs. Matt is the first to admit that he prefers dry land to the wilds of the ocean, unlike most of the locals around here.
‘Thanks, Sarah, maybe we will one day again,’ I say to her, reaching into my purse. ‘Here, Teigan, buy your little brother a treat someday soon but not right now as I can see you’re busy with that ice cream. Get yourself something really nice for your—’
I hand the little girl a ten Euro note and I get that choking feeling in my throat that tells me I’m about to forget how to breathe very soon.
‘Get something for—’
Her birthday, I want to say. She was born only days after my Lily so I know it has to be soon but I can’t say it. I just can’t.
‘Are you okay, Shelley? Honestly, you’ve gone a funny colour. Shelley?’
I can see Sarah, just about, but my vision is blurring even more now as an anxiety attack beckons. The money drops to the ground and I feel Sarah’s hands on my shoulders, propping me up.
‘Shelley,’ says another familiar voice. ‘Are you alright?’
I slide back into consciousness and then out of it again when I hear the unmistakable voice of Juliette calling me, or am I imagining it? Am I longing for it?
‘Juliette?’
‘Shelley, it’s me! You forgot your phone. What happened?’
I focus on Juliette’s friendly, warm face and I manage a smile but I notice how the two women in front of me share worried glances.
‘What happened? Is she okay?’ asks Juliette, and poor Sarah looks bewildered.
‘I’m Sarah, her friend, an old friend, and I just stopped to say hello. I’m not sure what happened. One minute we were chatting, the next thing …’
Juliette waits, as do I. Then Sarah whispers, covering her daughter’s ears
‘You called her Lily,’ she says, her face crumpling in sorrow. ‘You kind of … you didn’t hurt her, Shelley, it’s okay.’
She holds her daughter close. Poor Teigan. Merlin whimpers at my feet.
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it was all a bit of a misunderstanding,’ says Juliette. ‘I’ll look after it from here, Sarah and like you said, I’m sure Shelley didn’t mean any harm.’
I called her Lily and I grabbed her but I only wanted to give the child some money to treat herself and her brother, just like people used to do to me when I was out walking with my mother when I was little. I didn’t mean any harm!
Sarah shakes her head in deep sadness and pity and nods at Juliette who links my arm and leads me away from my shop, further up the hill towards my house. I feel drunk but I know I’m not. I am so unsure of what just happened.
‘I was going to suggest you stay with us tonight but I’ll walk you home,’ says Juliette. ‘Your phone’s been ringing – it was under Rosie’s makeup bag of all places.’
I watch Sarah and her children scuttle down the hill into the village, her arm protectively around Teigan as she stoops down to whisper to her.
‘Maybe when we get you tucked up in bed you can text your husband and tell him you are going to be okay, Shelley,’ says Juliette. ‘And you are going to be okay, Shelley, because I am going to make damn sure of it.’
Juliette
We walk, arm in arm along the coastal hill that leads up to Shelley’s luxurious home in the distance, at the top of the little village with the still of the ocean to our left and green fields to our right. The lighthouse twinkles out on the sea and windy stone walls guide us along the busy little road that takes us out of the village and leads further south along the magnificent Wild Atlantic Way if we were to follow them that far.
I inhale the sea air, feeling like I am breathing in pure undiluted magic. How I wish I had more time to live in a place like this. If there is one thing that cancer has taught me, it’s to appreciate absolutely everything I see, touch, hear and feel. The smell of the fish and chip shop; the cry of the gulls above our heads and the feeling of space and freedom and being on holiday. Heaven, pure heaven, but to Shelley, she is still going through hell.
‘What happened?’ she asks me and I can only tell her what I saw.
‘You stumbled, that’s all,’ I tell her. ‘You were giving the little girl something and you stumbled towards her and you – well, you must have mistaken her for Lily.’
‘Money,’ she says. ‘I was just giving her money but all I could think of was Lily, all I could see was Lily. Teigan was Lily’s best friend and it’s her birthday in a few days’ time. I must have frightened the life out of her. Poor Teigan.’
‘That’s enough,’ I tell her. ‘That lady was your friend, right?’
She nods. ‘Yes. My best friend around here. We used to do so much together.’
‘Well, she’s bound to understand what you must be feeling right now,’ I tell her. ‘Anyhow, you needn’t waste time worrying about such minor things. Send Sarah a quick sorry and it will all be over and done with. Time is too precious to beat yourself up over nothing. Life is too short for shit, that’s my motto and don’t you ever forget it. No shit from now on!’
At this, Shelley starts to giggle, and then she stops in her tracks. I let go of her.
‘Why do you care so much about me, Juliette?’ she asks me. ‘And more to the point, why do I let you care? What is it about you that makes me let you in so easily?’
I have no idea how to reply. I have no idea why I care so I can’t answer her.
‘Well …I don’t know, you helped me by helping my daughter,’ I say to Shelley in my bid to explain. ‘Or maybe it’s just human nature to want to look out for someone in distress? Maybe I’m just being human?’
Shelley isn’t overly convinced.
‘But I am letting you,’ she says, her eyes wild and full of wonder. ‘I haven’t let anyone into my life in three years, never mind a stranger, and then you and your daughter come along and we’re best buddies all of a sudden and I feel better than I have in such a long time. I’m not knocking it or pushing you away, I just think it’s all a bit—’
‘Wonderful?’ I suggest. ‘Believe me, when you don’t have time to sweat the small stuff, you tend to focus on the positive acts of kindness rather than turning a blind eye or pushing someone away just because you can.’
She looks away from me and strands of her long, wavy hair blow in the breeze.
‘I have pushed so, so many people away who tried to help me,’ she confesses, her face full of worry. ‘I’ve been deliberately pushing everyone away, even my husband.’
‘I’ve been doing that too, so that’s another thing we have in common.’
‘You’ve been pushing away your husband?’
‘Yes, my husband, Dan,’ I tell her. ‘My darling husband Dan turned to the comfort of booze when I first was diagnosed a few years ago. I couldn’t bear to see him cry and beg for things to go back to how they used to be, so two weeks ago when I knew my dreaded next appointment was around the corner and the worst was yet to come, I asked him to leave.’
Shelley gasps. ‘No, Juliette, you didn’t?’
‘I did,’ I nod. ‘I pushed him away because I can’t watch him in so much pain, and he can’t watch me in pain, but boy, I miss him every single day, Shelley. My heart is aching for him. Does that make me a hypocrite? I suppose it does, in a way.’
‘How do you mean?’ asks Shelley.
‘Well, here I am telling you to live your life to the full while you still can and meanwhile back at the ranch I’m pushing away the man I love more than anyone just to make it easier on us both, when in reality it’s not making it easy at all. It’s making it worse, even though I am doing a good job of denying it to myself.’
‘Maybe we just came along at the right time to teach each other a few good old life lessons then?’ suggests Shelley. ‘Maybe we both need to realize what’s important before it’s too late?’
‘I think we have,’ I say to this darling girl who is living each day swallowed up with grief and sadness, though she longs to live and to love again. There is hope for her though. I can see it and I am determined to make her see it too before I leave this place.
Shelley leans on the stone wall to gather herself and I don’t wish to hurry her but I think of Rosie back in the cottage waiting on me to start our movie night.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to spend the evening with us rather than being on your own?’ I ask her. ‘You do know you are very welcome, but I think I’ve pushed you enough today, so don’t feel pressurised.’
‘Gosh, no,’ she says, shaking her head and fixing her jacket. ‘I can walk from here. I’ll go home and ring Matt and I have old Merlin here to look after. Go back to your daughter and cherish every moment with her while you still can, Juliette. And maybe give your hubby a call?’
And in that moment as we stand in the evening breeze with the sea down below us, I realize the intense irony of each of our situations. Shelley would give everything to have what I have had – some time to cherish, albeit cut short, with my only child, and I would give everything to have what she has – a life to look forward to and all the time in the world to do it.
‘We’ll see you again,’ I say to her, reaching out my hand and touching her arm. She smiles, just a little, but it’s always good to see her smile.
‘I hope so,’ she says, and then I watch her walk away, a sad and lonely figure with so much to live for, but who feels she has nothing left to live for at the same time. I see a flicker out at the lighthouse in the distance and a gust of wind blows through my hair. Shelley stops and looks out towards it too and then walks away again, her head bowed and her heart sorry. I really hope I can make her see that her daughter up in heaven is urging her to smile again.