Shelley
TUESDAY
I wake up from the sweetest dream with a smile on my face and I open my eyes to a burst of sunlight that seeps in between the curtains, forming a sparkling line that falls right on to my bed. I have no idea where I was in my dream, or what I was doing or who I was with but something wonderful certainly did happen and now I am lying here with a smile on my face and a warm fuzzy glow inside.
And then it comes back to me. I saw Lily and she was smiling at me from the lighthouse in my mother’s arms. She was wearing her favourite yellow coat and her bright pink wellington boots and it was raining so she had her hood up but she looked so happy and safe. She was waving at me and giving me a thumbs-up as my mother looked at her with such endearment.
It was beautiful.
I stretch slowly under the covers and check my phone from my bedside table and it’s a lot earlier than when I normally wake up. As usual, there is an early morning greeting from Matt and another from Eliza which was sent only minutes before I woke. She says she is going to town and she is wondering if I need anything. Nothing new there in that the woman has the patience of a saint as I always tell her no and she still insists on asking every time she is passing through to do her own bits and pieces.
‘Town’ to us is thirty minutes away in Galway City and I haven’t had any interest in going there for so long, even though I used to go at least once a week, if not on errands, then just for the experience. I used to adore walking the cobbles of Shop Street and listening to the buskers, or sitting on a bench eating a fish supper by the Claddagh basin and watching the swans sail up and down, or catching a play at the Town Hall or a gig at Monroe’s or the Roisin Dubh and marvelling at the variety of live music on offer. That was a different me. That was me when I knew how to enjoy myself.
I have truly pressed pause on my life. I have stopped being me but I feel ever so slightly stronger with each day that has passed since Lily’s birthday at the weekend and with her help, each day from now on I will try and fix that. No matter how hard it is to keep moving forward, it is what I have to do.
I read Eliza’s message again.
‘Do you need anything from town, love? I’ll be passing through if so.’
I don’t really need anything in town, just as I always don’t, and I press reply to tell her so. What I do need to do is get up and shower … and then I suppose I will cook the same breakfast that I won’t even taste and watch the same daytime TV that is like chewing gum for my brain and then I’ll worry and wonder and relive the same things that I do every day as I wait for 2pm to come round when I need to be in work and the clutching pain of grief will slowly ease off until I come back here again in the evening and battle through it until bedtime.
I close my eyes and I see Lily’s little face again. Her hand waving at me from side to side like she used to – those chubby little dimpled hands that used to touch my face and melt my heart just by looking at them. My mother kisses her on her temple and she gives me the same thumbs-up again just like in my dream. Mum’s smile is so radiant, so safe, so comforting and I find myself smiling back at them, hoping that they can see me ever so slowly getting better.
I don’t need to do any of that mundane stuff again today, do I Lily? Tell me what I need to do, Mum.
And then I feel it.
What I need to do is hold on to this glimmer of positivity that has embraced me since Saturday, and which has come to me even stronger since I woke up only minutes ago.
What I need to do is grasp this opportunity, this spark of life that has been ignited since I met Rosie and Juliette. What I need to do is try and live again.
So I’m going to make today matter, just as I did yesterday and the day before with Juliette and Rosie. And so I do something that I should have done ages ago. It’s only a little gesture, but I’m going to push myself and make the effort. I send my mother-in-law a text that reads as follows:
‘Fancy a passenger into Galway? I might need a few things after all and will tag along if you don’t mind?’
I press send and a wave of shock overcomes me but I can’t back out now.
She calls me straight away.
‘Hello?’
‘I’m just making sure I’m not imagining things,’ she says in disbelief. ‘I mean, I was just messaging on the off chance but I didn’t even expect you to be awake yet? I hope I’m not imagining things! I’m on my way to you right now if you want to come? Please say you do?’
‘You are not imagining things,’ I tell her, sitting up on my bed. The stream of sunlight sits right on my lap now and I get a strange energy from the light of a new day, as if it’s urging me on, encouraging me to get up and do this. ‘I can be ready in fifteen minutes if you can pick me up then? I have to be at work at two o’clock, of course, so I’ll go only if it doesn’t make you have to rush back?’
‘The morning is young, darling,’ says Eliza. ‘I will be there in fifteen and I will have you back at the shop for two on the button, fed, watered and feeling great for a change of scenery. Now go and get ready! Go, go, go!’
I hang up the phone and smile, then I close my eyes and say thank you. I don’t know who or what I am thanking but something has shifted within me. I’m not on top of the world of course, I’m not even ten steps up a mountainside when it comes to living life to the full again, but I have one thing that I couldn’t find within myself for too long now. I have hope. I now have found some sort of hope and faith and belief that I will soon, very slowly, be able to move on. With Lily’s love in my heart and my mother’s soothing voice in my ear, it is beginning, dare I say it, it’s beginning to feel good.
I step into the shower and I feel a thin layer of the darkness of grief wash off my hair, down my back and I gulp back tears at the sheer relief of just a glimmer of hope.
Eliza toots the horn fifteen minutes later as promised but I’m already at the door, ready and waiting and I distract Merlin with a squeaky toy to let me get away. Five minutes in the shower, a quick lick of makeup (nothing compared to Rosie’s masterpiece yesterday but enough to take away the ghostly pale look from my face), a spray of perfume and I’m ready to face the world again. It really is so different to the days when it would take me at least an hour to gather up Lily’s belongings, put together a change of clothes just in case of any accidents, her drinking cup, her cuddle toy, her second ‘flavour of the week’ toy and then the time it took to dress her and convince her to get into her car seat. I’m not even going to think about that this morning. I don’t have to punish myself. I’ve been punished enough.
‘Look at you, Shelley! You look radiant,’ says Eliza, lifting her sunglasses to get a better view. ‘You look like a different person. Well, you look like you but in the best possible way and it’s wonderful! What’s going on?’
Eliza is driving her pale blue convertible Volkswagen Beetle which suits her personality to a tee, and her wavy, thick, auburn-dyed hair is coiffed to perfection. Matt’s family don’t do things by halves. Eliza totally believes in living life to the full and she has a great taste for the finer things in life, well, as much as she can afford, but she is also incredibly generous and charitable and a very warm and popular lady around the village of Killara and beyond.
‘I do feel a little bit better, Eliza,’ I admit to her, putting my handbag in the back seat and getting into the front beside her. ‘A good bit better, actually. I didn’t even allow myself to think twice earlier. When I saw your message, something clicked in me. I had the strangest dream, or maybe it wasn’t even a dream, it was more like a feeling that pushed me on, a sign. Can we get signs in our sleep do you think? It’s just that I woke this morning with what felt like a new sense of reassurance that everything was going to be okay? That it was okay to smile a little bit more? I saw Lily and she looked happy and I guess that’s made me feel a bit happier. Is that stupid?’
Eliza steers the car down my driveway and out onto the winding road, taking a right for Killara village which we pass through before we take the main road for Galway City.
‘Of course, it’s not a bit stupid, it’s very real, Shelley,’ she explains to me softly. ‘We get signs when we sleep as that’s when we are at most vulnerable and at ease. We are wide open to receiving messages from loved ones or even simple spiritual guidance, and we wake up with, just like you have, a sense of reassurance to keep going forward. I’m not surprised that you feel better after sleeping if you think you may have had some sort of spiritual communication.’
‘It really has spurred me on,’ I tell her. ‘Not only that, though. I’ve had an eventful few days, I suppose you might say.’
Eliza glances at me and then back to the road.
‘I was wondering what was going on,’ she says. ‘I’ve called at the house and even Merlin wasn’t there and I was beginning to think you’d fled the country? I didn’t want to torture you with phone calls, but then today when I was heading into town I thought I’d left it long enough and would check in.’
I don’t even know where to begin to explain all the wondrous things that have happened to me, so I start with Saturday afternoon, the day of Lily’s birthday and the lady with the blue dress. Eliza doesn’t make a fuss or say ‘I told you so’ when I mention the colour blue, just as she’d predicted. She just smiles and nods her head as I tell her all about Juliette and Rosie, why they’re here and their connection to Matt’s old friend Skipper.
‘Oh Eliza, when the poor woman told me that the name of the man she was hoping to look up was Skipper, I didn’t know how to break it to her. Imagine that feeling that your only child was going to be an orphan? Imagine, what she’s been hanging on to as some sort of happy ending for her daughter has been destroyed. And wee Rosie, gosh she really would break your heart because she has no idea of the huge loss she is about to experience. I really felt something for her the moment I saw her on those sand dunes and then when I found out she was Matt’s friend’s biological daughter, it all made sense.’
Eliza seems to be in deep thought, like she is taking it all in. Eventually she responds.
‘I don’t think you feel that connection to little Rosie because of a man you have never met,’ says Eliza. ‘I’d doubt that’s the case.’
‘You don’t?’ I ask. Gosh. I thought she would be totally convinced that it was so fateful that I was to run into the long-lost daughter of my husband’s deceased friend from yesteryear.
‘No,’ she says. ‘I think there is more to it than that. I think Juliette and Rosie have been sent to you for much more personal reasons. You feel you have been helping them, yes?’
‘Well, I suppose I have,’ I tell her. ‘It was by helping Rosie and listening to her that I first felt something change inside of me. And then when she encouraged me to have lunch on Sunday it was like I was actually tasting food for the first time in ages, and then I saw them together on the beach yesterday and the joy they felt from sharing that time on horseback together. It just moved me so much and I felt so much in my heart for them both.’
‘Exactly,’ says Eliza. ‘We reap what we sow, Shelley. Sometimes when we take the emphasis off our own grief and troubles, and reach out to others, we get so much more from it without realizing it. Your friendship and kindness to those people in their time of need is paying dividends your way. I don’t think it’s anything to do with, what was his name again?’
‘Skipper,’ I remind her. My goodness she is as bad as her son when it comes to names.
‘Skipper … something to do with boats, then, I take it?’
‘Yes, that’s him. He used to sail in here from time to time. Do you remember him?’ I ask her.
‘No, I don’t, sorry,’ says Eliza. ‘I can’t say I remember him at all. Where did you say he was from?’
‘I didn’t,’ I tell her. ‘He’s from Waterford. At least I think that’s where Matt said. They were good friends about … well, I suppose it’s over fifteen years ago now.’
Eliza shakes her head.
‘Hmm, Skipper … it’s not ringing a bell at all.’
We’re driving more slowly now through Killara and the village is bright and bustling with tourists just as it always is at this time of year. I see Betty in the shop dealing with a customer and then further down the village I spot Juliette and Rosie buying an ice cream from a van by the pier and I wave to them but they are too far away to see us.
‘Are you sure you don’t remember him?’ I ask her. ‘Skipper? I think his real name was Pete? Matt told me all about him one night when he was feeling all sentimental about people who touched his life who have been and gone. He was a sailor and he used to come here and hang out with Matt and his friends in the summer. People like Tom and Sarah and others round his age? No?’
Eliza shakes her head. ‘Definitely not, darling,’ she says to me. ‘Mind you, I can’t keep up with some of the people Matt has been friendly with down the years. His school-friends, his university friends, his work friends from his many different jobs. Did I ever tell you he once wanted to be a postman?’
‘No,’ I laugh. ‘I don’t think he has ever admitted that one to me, ha.’
‘Well, I’m sure this man you are talking about was indeed a friend of Matthew’s but I don’t remember ever meeting him,’ says Eliza. ‘And you say this lady has a child to him and was here to find him?’
I look out onto the bay as we take our time behind a bus full of sightseeing tourists which is deliberately driving slowly to admire the view of the harbour.
‘This was where she met him, yes,’ I sigh. ‘Poor lady. I feel for her so much to be in such a dreadful situation with her little girl.’
But Eliza is on a different wavelength altogether.
‘That’s sad indeed,’ she says. ‘Now, excuse me for changing the subject, but let’s get back to this wonderful big step you have taken to leave this village today! What would you like to do when we get into town, love? How about we start with a nice brunch out in the sunshine and we take it from there? We will have a lovely time, I promise.’
My tummy rumbles at the very idea of a sumptuous brunch in the sunshine, and Eliza turns up her sound system with The Eagles blasting out, the music making heads turn as we leave the stone walls of the village and swing out on to the main open road.
‘That would be just perfect,’ I tell her, and I tilt my head back and look up to the sky, smiling with gratitude for this beautiful day and the new strength I am finding from within. This time I know exactly who I am thanking. I see her little hands again and the look in her eyes touches my heart and warms it up a little. Thank you, Lily. I feel you with me every day.
Juliette
I watch Rosie as she delves into the most indulgent whipped ice cream, complete with sprinkles, a flake, and the whole works. That’s when Sarah, Shelley’s friend from yesterday’s horse-riding escapade spots us as she is leaving Brannigan’s Bar across the road with her young daughter in tow.
‘Hey there! How are you two today? That looks very good indeed,’ she says and Rosie and I nod in agreement.
‘It’s the best ice cream ever,’ says Rosie, who has had a complete turnaround on her opinion of Killara since Shelley came on the scene. Everything is now ‘wonderful’, ‘amazing’ and ‘the best ever’ and I have no intention of putting her off her notions as I totally agree. Even the ‘crappy’ wi-fi doesn’t seem so big a deal anymore.
‘Have you seen Shelley today?’ she asks Sarah. ‘I wonder what she’s up to?’
I sigh and laugh lightly. Sarah saw Shelley for the first time properly in a long time only yesterday even though they both live in the same village and I don’t want Sarah to be reminded of that as it was such a big deal for them both.
‘Rosie, love, I told you that we can’t expect Shelley to be our tour guide every day we are here. Sorry, Sarah,’ I say to Shelley’s friend. ‘So this must be Teigan? Am I right? What a gorgeous girl you are.’
Sarah puts her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and the little girl smiles a toothy grin up at me. She really is such a cutie with brown curls to die for, big green almond eyes like her mother and a dimple when she smiles. I can totally understand how looking at her must be heart-breaking for Shelley.
‘I’m going to be a big six tomorrow,’ Teigan announces and we all wow in amazement. ‘And I’ve grown two inches since my last birthday. My daddy measured me.’
Sarah hugs her close with a proud smile.
‘I only wish I was six tomorrow and that I could grow two inches taller,’ I say to Teigan who shies now in to her mother’s leg. ‘But my days of being six and growing any taller are long gone.’
Sarah looks on at her daughter with great affection.
‘As are mine,’ says Sarah. ‘Oh, to be carefree and six years old again!’
‘I’m having a princess and ponies party,’ whispers Teigan timidly and Rosie perks up at this.
‘I would love to have a princess and ponies party,’ she says. ‘That’s the best theme I’ve ever heard. Mum, I know I’m going to be sixteen next birthday but I am so having that theme for my next party. That’s so cool, Teigan!’
I feel like someone has punched me in the stomach when I think of Rosie’s birthday which will be in May of next year and which I won’t be here for.
Sarah swiftly steps in.
‘We sampled some of that delicious ice cream the other evening when we bumped into Shelley up the road a bit, just outside her shop, didn’t we Teigan? Oh that’s right,’ says Sarah. ‘You walked Shelley home of course. Sometimes my memory … it must be old age creeping up on me!’
‘You only think you’re bad. Mum is the worst for forgetting things,’ says Rosie. ‘She forgets everything these days, don’t you, Mum! You couldn’t be as bad as she is!’
Sarah gives me a sympathetic smile and again swiftly changes the subject.
‘So, what’s on the agenda today, girlies?’ she asks. ‘Anything nice?’
‘Well, actually,’ I tell Sarah. ‘We have a wonderful afternoon planned and you are very welcome to join us if it suits you. We are finally going out on a boat to view the famous Cliffs of Moher. Rosie has never been on a boat before. Well, she has been on a ferry obviously on the way here, but it’s not the same thing, is it?’
Sarah breaks into a smile.
‘No, it is definitely not the same thing,’ she says. ‘I would love to go out with you and thank you so much for the invitation, but I’ve my toddler to pick up at lunch time from crèche and Toby and speedboats are not a good mix. Teigan and I were just in there chatting to my mum to see if she could have him for even an hour as Teigan has a dental appointment but she’s too busy. She runs the B&B at Brannigan’s.’
I look behind Sarah to the infamous green building where my journey began in this village and my tummy gives a whoosh.
‘Gosh, I didn’t realize you had a family connection to Brannigan’s?’ I say to her. I don’t want to sound over-curious or surprised, but I really didn’t have any idea. ‘Is that your mum’s place?’
‘Yes, that’s my whole family,’ Sarah explains. ‘We are Brannigan, well I was before I was married. I grew up in that building. We have a family home to the rear and then the front rooms are all for tourists. I thought Shelley may have mentioned that to you but I’m sure you have had more important things to talk about than my family history.’
I look up to the windows of the B&B, and get flashbacks to the room I stayed in – the lady who tutted at me when I couldn’t find the key to my room at such an ungodly hour and how Skipper didn’t want her to recognize him and waited outside until the coast was clear before I could let him in to join me upstairs. Shit. That must have been Sarah’s mother.
‘I hope I don’t get seasick when we go out on the boat,’ says Rosie, bringing a welcome interruption to my awe at Sarah’s home being where I first stayed and the possibility of her own mother being that very woman who we woke up so late at night. ‘I hope Shelley can come. I bet she’s working though.’
I can’t help but let out a sigh again. ‘Shelley is very popular right now, as are you too after your generosity yesterday,’ I say.
‘Well, that’s not a bad thing to hear at all,’ Sarah responds. ‘I’m delighted to be popular. If only I was as popular with my own children sometimes!’
Teigan looks up at her, totally oblivious to what Sarah is getting at.
‘Look, I know you’ve probably got a hundred and one things to do this morning,’ I say to Sarah, ‘but do you have time for a coffee and a bun across the road? My treat? I’d like to do something to thank you for going to all that trouble yesterday. We really did have such fun, didn’t we Rosie?’
Rosie nibbles at the remainder of her ice cream cone and then responds.
‘It was such fun, yes,’ she says to Sarah. ‘Thank you so much. Dizzy was the cutest horse—’
‘Ever!’ I say at the same time as her and we all have a giggle.
‘Okay, I think we have time for a coffee and a bun,’ says Sarah. ‘Teigan, don’t tell your brother and daddy that we were eating yummy stuff without them when we get home, will you?’
Teigan claps her hands with glee and we cross the road to the little coffee shop where we take our time to marvel at the range of delights on display. Chocolate éclairs bursting with fresh cream, zingy lemon tarts with juicy strawberry toppings, wedges of mint Aero cheesecake and a rainbow of cupcakes dance in front of us and even after tasting a little of Rosie’s whipped ice cream, I can’t resist sampling just a little something from the menu.
‘You only live once so feck the diet,’ I hear Sarah mutter, obviously trying to rid herself of any guilt associated with divulging in so many calories.
‘You’d better believe it,’ I whisper to her and she bursts out laughing at being caught out talking to herself.
‘We women really are hard on ourselves when it comes to treats, aren’t we?’ she says.
‘Everything in moderation,’ I say to Sarah and she perks up at my thinking. ‘Go for what you fancy, go on, and don’t even think about it again except for how much you enjoyed it.’
I choose a hazelnut latte with lemon tart and Sarah has an americano with an éclair, while the girls slurp on milkshakes and carry cupcakes outside to the little terrace, to one of its dainty metal tables on which there is barely enough room to hold all of our treats.
‘Teigan, shall we move over to the next table on our own?’ asks Rosie. ‘You can tell me all about your party and what it’s like going out on the boat because I’ve never been before, and you can also tell me all about that little rascal Dizzy. I really loved meeting him yesterday.’
‘Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,’ says Sarah as she helps them set up on the next table and they settle down with their treats. ‘Teigan has been out sailing lots with her dad so she knows lots of tips and also how not to get seasick. Don’t forget to tell Rosie how important it is to wear a life jacket, won’t you Teigan?’
Teigan looks thrilled to bits to be given such a responsible task and I am so proud of Rosie for taking the little girl under her wing and including her in the conversation. She was always so good with little ones and I just know she would have loved a younger sister or brother, someone to share her life with, someone to call on unconditionally – someone like I have in Helen. Yes, she has her cousins, Helen’s boys, but it’s not the same. They are a tight unit of five in that family and I really don’t know if Rosie will fit in when she goes to live with them. Maybe she’d be better off with my mum and dad, though with Mum’s own health worries and they aren’t getting any younger … oh, I can’t bear to think of that now.
‘What a delightful young daughter you have there, Juliette,’ Sarah says to me and I sit up a little straighter at the compliment. ‘It’s so kind and thoughtful of her to include Teigan and make her feel like a big girl. She’s a special young lady, for sure. Shelley told me she was and I can already see why.’
‘She really is,’ I reply. I can’t help but agree. ‘I may be totally biased, but she’s a real ray of sunshine in my life. I can’t even imagine what I would have done had she not come along, and believe me, I had lots of plans that didn’t involve having children. Isn’t it strange how life takes you in such different directions sometimes, yet it always works out to teach you something or make you a better, stronger person?’
We tuck into our sweet delights and Sarah looks surprised to hear this.
‘Were children not in your plans, then?’ she asks. ‘I have to admit when I got pregnant with Toby, my youngest, the shock nearly killed me and I still can’t figure out how it happened but I wouldn’t change it now for the world, of course.’
‘I didn’t plan to have one on my own,’ I clarify. ‘It’s not that I’d said I would never have children at all, I just hadn’t planned that far ahead I suppose. Life threw me a big challenge and it was the best thing that ever happened to me, but sometimes we only realize these things when we have to sit back and reflect on where we are, where we thought we’d be and how we got here.’
I hope I’m not being too deep and meaningful but I think Sarah is still interested in what I have to say.
‘Yes, life certainly does take us in all sorts of directions,’ she agrees with me. ‘Even when it comes to relationships, yes? Like, when we are young and in love with being in love, we really do believe it will last forever, or when we make friends we think they will be friends for life and it doesn’t always work out that way, but if someone told you that at the time, you’d never believe them.’
‘Exactly.’
We sip our coffees and a few seconds of silence follow. I can’t help but envy her as I notice her glance over at her daughter who is chatting away to Rosie without a care in the world. How I wish that Rosie was secure in her life like that with a healthy mum, a little brother and a loving dad to go home to every day. Horse-riding on the beach, shopping with her mum, planning birthday parties … I lose my breath a little in self-pity and try to realize that none of this is Sarah’s fault. Everyone has their own cross to bear, as my grandmother used to say.
‘I do look back and cringe at some of the boys and men I thought I would spend the rest of my life with,’ says Sarah with a smile. ‘And then after searching the whole of Ireland and beyond, I ended up marrying my next-door neighbour and I couldn’t be happier. I didn’t see that one coming!’
She couldn’t be happier … stop it, Juliette. Stop. Maybe some people do have life a lot easier. Maybe I’m just being bitter and jealous because it’s not working out for me. We can’t all find love and happily ever after with the boy next door, can we?
I happened to go a bit further afield to marry, but I don’t want to share that part of my life right now with Sarah. I went to Cornwall to be precise and the pain of how it all turned out so wrong chokes me up and I can’t even bring myself to talk of my own husband to this lovely lady.
Oh, Dan. My lonely, lost soul Dan, who is back in Birmingham battling and trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow when it comes to his drinking, which has ripped the foundations out from our marriage and is tearing us both apart if we both could stop to admit it. Life, eh?
‘I thought I was going to travel the world and then settle down in a place just like this,’ I tell Sarah who is wiping cream from the sides of her mouth as she enjoys her éclair. ‘When I first came here sixteen years ago, I didn’t think it would be so long until I’d get the chance to return. I had visions of making my fortune or raising enough to buy a small property and moving somewhere like here where I’d walk and write and paint and do all sorts of beautiful relaxing things at peace by the sea.’
‘That’s so nice that you have come back after all these years,’ she says. ‘Was it summer time when you were here? And note how I use the term summer lightly. We tend to have all sorts of weather here no matter what month of the year it is, so hurray for today’s burst of sunshine.’
‘I was here in August ,’ I tell her and I can’t help but glance up at the window of the room I stayed in again as I remember it all. That window is like a magnet every time I go past it, urging me to look up and acknowledge its part in all of this.
‘That would have been the summer after my first year at, university, I think … most of my friends were away that summer, now that I think of it,’ Sarah explains to me. ‘A few of us went to Wildwood in New Jersey when we broke from uni and I think that Matt, Shelley’s husband, was living in Dublin with his then-girlfriend. They broke up shortly after that summer though and then Shelley moved here, they fell head over heels in love and the rest is history.’
I smile at hearing Shelley’s love story from her friend and I’m glad that my fleeting moment of envy has passed. I really do hope that Shelley finds peace and happiness again with Matt, who I sense she is having difficulties with at the moment as she struggles with her horrible grief and loss. It must be hard to be apart at such a difficult time.
‘And so you never did find a place to live like this then?’ Sarah asks me. ‘Can I ask why? You don’t have to tell me of course if you don’t want to.’
I pause. I am not sure how much of my story to divulge to Sarah, or how much she really wants to hear.
‘Well, no, I didn’t ever get that far,’ I tell her. ‘My life didn’t work out that way.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she says.
Goodness me, I must look sad and I don’t mean to be sad.
‘Oh no, you see, I found out I was expecting Rosie when I returned from here,’ I explain. ‘My life took a very different turn for me, that’s all. I needed my family around me as I would be raising her alone but I always still had this hope of settling by the sea, maybe when Rosie left for university, or maybe when she put down roots of her own somewhere or hopefully, set off to travel the world. That was my plan, but my life still isn’t really going according to plan now, is it?’
Sarah looks on with deep sadness. ‘Are you sick, Juliette? I didn’t like to pry earlier in your business, but—’
‘The wig gave me away, didn’t it?’ I joke and Sarah looks at me in protest, but I shake my head to reassure her.
‘No, I just—’
‘I am very, very sick, yes. I am dying.’
Her hand goes to her mouth. I shouldn’t have said that so bluntly, but it’s the truth isn’t it? And saying it aloud like that for the very first time is somewhat liberating.
‘So I should probably just stop making plans and then I won’t be disappointed,’ I say, stirring the froth on my latte. ‘Not that I want any sympathy, please don’t get me wrong. We are here in Killara now to enjoy ourselves and that’s what I fully intend to do from now on in life, however long it lasts.’
I smile and shrug at Sarah whose hands slowly come back to the table. She has gone pale.
‘How long do you think that might be?’
My throat dries up when I think about it.
‘I’m not holding much hope for longer than a few months,’ I say to her. ‘Every day now is a bonus. I’d so love to see one more Christmas and maybe it will snow this year, just for me. I’d love to see just one more white Christmas.’
Sarah’s face has frozen in shock and I’m sorry that I have brought her down like this. She looks over at Rosie and Teigan who are chatting animatedly about horses and boats and birthdays, of course. She looks at me, then she looks at her coffee, then she looks at me again.
‘I honestly don’t have any idea what to say to you, Juliette,’ says Sarah, closing her eyes now. ‘I’m so sorry to hear your news.’
‘You don’t have to say anything, honestly,’ I tell her. ‘You’ve been more than kind to us and I won’t forget it. You have no idea how much it meant to us both yesterday to spend those precious moments on the beach together like that. It was a memory that I will cherish until my very final moments. I will never forget Rosie’s face.’
I gulp now as my daughter’s smiling face reflects in my memory.
‘Thank you, Sarah,’ I whisper.
‘Look,’ she says, biting her lip. ‘I know you are only around a few more days, so if there is anything I can help with to make your stay here as good as it can be, just let me know, please, I mean that.’
‘Honestly, you have done more than enough, more than you might ever realise.’
‘And I know you were joking earlier about Shelley being your tour guide,’ continues Sarah, ‘but I swear, you have helped her so much too in the past few days and I think she has really benefitted from your company. A lot more than you will ever know.’
Sarah wipes a stray tear from the inside of her eye.
‘Gosh, really? I have? How?’ I ask.
I am genuinely taken aback by this. I thought it was very much the other way around with Shelley and I. She is the one who has been helping us have a good time.
Sarah shakes her head and exhales as if she doesn’t know where to start.
‘Shelley has been … look I don’t want to talk behind my best friend’s back, but she has almost disappeared since Lily died,’ she explains to me. ‘She’s just … been gone. And I’ve missed her company. We used to be like sisters. Meeting you and Rosie seems to have given her this magnificent lift. Your timing, as far as Shelley’s concerned, was almost fateful and yesterday on the beach meant as much for me and Shelley as friends as it did for you and Rosie as mum and daughter.’
‘My goodness, really?’ My cynical view of this woman’s perfect life has mellowed as I see the pain and gratitude in her eyes when she speaks about her friend. I feel better already at the very idea that I may have helped, even in the tiniest way, to ease Shelley’s pain or to show her that life really is worth living – because of course I only realize how fragile it is now that mine is about to end.
‘Yes, you really have sparked something off in her and I, for one, am so delighted to see it,’ she continues. ‘It’s like my best friend is slowly coming back to life, like meeting you and Rosie has breathed some new life into her. She has been to the most devastating hell and back but it’s only now that she’s realizing that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to learn to live again, and maybe even love again too. Guilt free.’
She sips her coffee quickly as if she is trying to stop herself from saying too much more than she already has.
‘I never even thought of it that way,’ I say to Sarah, ‘but maybe there was some big universal reason for us meeting. I do believe that everyone comes into our life for a reason, and if they leave, they leave for a reason.’
‘Exactly,’ agrees Sarah.
‘I also believe that Rosie came into mine for a reason even though at the time it was the very last thing I expected,’ I tell her. ‘I didn’t want to be a single mum and have a child to a man I didn’t even know, who probably didn’t even remember I existed. I thought when I had her that I would have a best friend for life, but that isn’t working out too well, is it? All we can do at the end of the day is embrace what comes our way and have faith that somebody out there knows what it’s all about and is taking us in the right direction.’
‘My God, you must be terrified,’ Sarah says to me. She has pushed the remainder of her chocolate éclair to the side now. ‘Did you ever manage to tell Rosie’s father about her? Does he know yet? You are so incredibly brave, Juliette.’
I shake my head and look out onto the harbour.
‘I’m not brave at all, Sarah, I just don’t have a choice unfortunately,’ I tell her. ‘And no, he never did get to know that she existed and that’s going to sink in soon. He isn’t here anymore unfortunately, so I really don’t have a choice. I should have tracked him down at the time but now it’s too late. I left it too late.’
‘He isn’t here?’ asks Sarah with surprise. ‘Do you mean here on earth or here in Killara?’
I can see her calculating years and dates and Rosie’s age in her head.
‘Both,’ I tell here. ‘He isn’t here on earth and he isn’t here in Killara anymore either.’
She puts down her coffee.
‘You mean he was from Killara?’ she exclaims. ‘Well, if that’s the case I must know him then. Who is he?’
I look over to my daughter to make sure she isn’t listening in. I have nothing to lose now by telling Sarah who my one-night lover was. He is long gone and he wasn’t even from here after all. What is there to keep secret anymore, apart from not letting Rosie know just yet, I can tell Sarah openly, can’t I?
‘His name was Pete, but he went by the nickname Skipper and I believe he was a good friend of Matt’s, Shelley’s husband? He was a boatman and he’s gone now, as you probably know. Gone from this earth as well as gone from Killara.’
Sarah’s hands slowly come up to her face and she nods her head as it all slots into place.
‘Oh yes,’ she says, and then she shakes herself back to reality. ‘God, yes, I knew him really, really well. Wow.’
She looks over at Rosie. Then back at me.
‘Wow,’ she says again. ‘He was one of our gang for a short while many years ago. We were all so shocked and upset when he died. Bloody hell, Juliette. Who else knows about this?’
I take a deep breath.
‘Absolutely no one around here apart from you and Shelley,’ I tell her. ‘I don’t even know why I told you, Sarah, sorry if this is all too much. I probably shouldn’t have told you.’
But Sarah is fascinated.
‘And are you going to contact his family?’ she asks. ‘Do you even know where to start looking for them? Wasn’t he from Waterford or somewhere that direction? Yes, Waterford, yes he was definitely from there.’
‘Yes, he was apparently and no I have no idea how to contact his family,’ I say to her, emphatically. ‘I have no clue what I want to do next, Sarah. I might let sleeping dogs lie until I get home on Saturday, or else I might take my daughter for a walk today and tell her everything, as little as it is so far, that I know about him. I’m just not sure she can cope with all that baggage with what she already has ahead of her. Or maybe I’ll write it in a letter for her to read much later, after I’m gone and she’s old enough to digest it. I don’t know, Sarah. I just can’t get my head around it at all.’
Sarah sits back in her chair and folds her arms, still a look of wonder in her face. Then she leans forward again.
‘You really don’t know anything about him at all, do you?’ she asks in a whisper.
‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Just his name and some fuzzy recollection of what he looked like perhaps and what happened that night all those years ago. And even that, as I say, is a little fuzzy as I’m not sure of how much of it I made up in some romantic memory and how much of it is true. It was quite a while ago after all.’
‘Okay,’ she says, pursing her lips in thought.
‘Yes, I’m sure it really is going to be okay, I’ll get over it and Rosie will muddle through,’ I tell her. ‘You look like you are thinking, Sarah. What are you thinking?’
Sarah smiles a little, a sympathetic smile.
‘Look, I hope I’m not going to upset you but you are not going to believe this,’ she says to me. ‘Remember we were talking about old boyfriends earlier?’
‘Yes,’ I reply, not knowing where this conversation is going to.
‘Well, back in the early days, Skipper was one of mine,’ she says and now it’s my turn to gasp.
‘Jesus, I’m so sorry! I honestly had no idea!’
‘No, no don’t be silly!’ she says quickly and she reaches across and puts her hand on my arm. ‘It was never serious, I swear. No hearts broken, I promise! It never even got past first base – he took me to the cinema in Galway and we kissed a bit out on his boat and that was it, end of. Like a teenage romance only we were a bit older than teenagers. But the only reason I’m telling you this, is not because we had some mad love story going on, but because …’
She pauses.
‘Go on,’ I say to her.
‘I’m telling you this because I am almost sure I have a photo of him somewhere in the attic of the B&B and I’m thinking maybe you would like it, for Rosie.’
I look across again. The window. The laughter. The lateness. The dark.
‘You’re kidding me,’ I tell her. If only she knew that was where we spent the night together, in her mother’s B&B where she may have a photo of him hidden somewhere in a box of old memories.
‘I’m not kidding,’ she says. ‘Look, I’m not promising anything, but I’ll have a search over the next few days and if I find it and you want it you can have it. You’re here till Saturday, am I right?’
‘Yes, Saturday,’ I tell her and my eyes fill up at the thought of it. ‘Sarah, I can’t tell you how much it would mean to me to have a photo of Rosie’s dad to leave with her. That’s so special and so kind of you to look for it. Honestly, thank you.’
Sarah bites her lip.
‘I’m so sorry your search for him didn’t have a happy ending,’ she says to me. ‘He was a a real gem and I’ll take the place apart over there until I find the photo. I’ll do my very best to help you leave something behind for her. My very best. That I can promise.’
Now it’s my turn to take Sarah’s hand and give it a squeeze of appreciation. We both watch our daughters, who are still in full-blown conversation with little Teigan swinging her legs under her seat as she chats away with confidence. A photo of Rosie’s dad would be so precious to have when I get around to telling her all about him. I feel a lump in my throat at the very idea of that conversation, so it won’t be today. And it probably won’t be tomorrow but when I do give it to her I want to make it a positive moment when she will finally see the man whose genes she shares and who might even look a bit like her and whose family might even learn to love her
Today, and every day while we are here, is going to be a good day. I hope so, anyway.