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  “Irene,” Martha said, “that’s not true.”

  “Of course it’s true,” Irene said. “You can’t be alone, and that’s the only reason you want me home.”

  “Not fair.”

  “Totally fair. But it’s okay—I understand. I’m terrified of heights; you’re terrified of being alone. We all have our issues.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “I love you, Mum.”

  Shortly after, Martha watched her peel off down the street on the back of Kurt’s motorbike and instead of thinking about what her daughter had said, instead of realizing that the girl had a point and that she needed to change if she wanted their relationship to change, she thought about Jane Moore and what a stupid bitch she was for turning her daughter against her.

  Leslie had three weeks to go before her operation, and the gravity of her situation was starting to take its toll on her. Sleep deprivation made her cranky and she couldn’t help but focus on the mutilation her poor body would soon endure. She got out of the shower, wiped the steam from the mirror, and looked at herself, resting the palm of her hand on her stomach. With her other hand she cupped her left breast. She squeezed her breasts together, she tried to flatten them down, and then she held on to the sink and she screamed and screamed and screamed, and when Elle knocked at her door she was lying in the fetal position on the floor, crying for all that she was about to lose. When Leslie eventually opened the door, wearing nothing but her robe, she pretended that she was fine but Elle wasn’t fooled even for a second.

  “Get dressed,” she said.

  “No.”

  “Get dressed.”

  “No.”

  “Leslie.”

  “Elle.”

  “Get fucking dressed.”

  “No fucking way.”

  Elle grinned, and Leslie couldn’t help but smile a little too.

  When dressed, Leslie wanted to know what Elle had planned, but all she would say was that they were going on a drive. Leslie really didn’t feel like driving, but Elle was adamant that she needed to run away from herself.

  “You can’t run away from yourself,” Leslie said.

  “Of course you can,” Elle said. “You’ll see.”

  It was a hot day and Elle had no idea where they were heading, so she pointed the car in a direction and just kept going. She put the top down and music on and ordered Leslie to lie back and allow the breeze to fill her lungs and play with her hair. Spending time with Leslie had reminded Elle how short and precious life was, and she felt a great need to make the absolute most of every second before she moved on.

  After they had been driving for over an hour, Leslie voiced concern as to when they’d reach their destination.

  “We’ll know when we know,” Elle said.

  Leslie sighed deeply and shook her head to signal to her friend that she wasn’t happy, then lay back, and when the wind caught her hair she smiled.

  The sunshine made every town and village they passed seem prettier, the grass greener, the flowers more colorful, the people friendlier, and the world a little kinder and better. Elle and Leslie were warm, content, and looking forward to reaching their destination, wherever it might be. When two hours had passed and they were still driving, Leslie wondered whether they would make it back home and Elle assured her that they wouldn’t. Leslie argued that she hadn’t got a change of clothes or a toothbrush and, most important, that she hadn’t left food out for her cat.

  “We can buy what we need and ring Deborah—she’ll care for the cat,” said Elle.

  “You are joking?”

  “No, I’m not joking. I know she makes you a little crazy, but face facts. Deborah was right about you. You were a weirdo cat-loving loner who could potentially drop dead and rot.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re excused,” Elle said, “because that’s not who you are anymore, so forgive and forget and ask her to feed your cat.”

  “What about a key, smart-ass?”

  “Knowing you, you have one hidden somewhere in the building.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Because you’re paranoid like Jane, which means you’re one of those ‘in case of’ people and you’re such an unfriendly cow there’s no way you gave it to a neighbor.”

  “It’s under the carpet to the left of my door.”

  Elle raised her hand. “There you go, then.”

  Leslie rang directory inquiries and asked for Deborah James’s phone number.

  They connected her, and Deborah answered immediately, “Ashley?”

  “No, it’s Leslie.”

  “Leslie who?”

  “Leslie, the weirdo cat-loving loner with the potential to drop dead and rot.”

  “Oh,” Deborah said, “you.”

  “Look, I know this is out of the blue, but I need a favor.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m not going to make it home and I haven’t left out any food for my cat. I’d really appreciate it if you’d feed her for me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Leslie said, “really.”

  “Key?” Deborah said.

  “Under the carpet to the left-hand side of my door.”

  “Hmmmmm.”

  “Well?”

  “Okay. I’ll feed your cat.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Um-hum.”

  “And Deborah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you poke around, I’ll know.”

  “Don’t push it, cat lady.”

  “Okay,” Leslie said, and she hung up. “Sorted,” she said to Elle, and she lay back in her seat, breathed in deeply, and stretched her arms in the air.

  Elle saw the castle in the distance and told Leslie that it was calling to her. It turned out to be a hotel. She drove up the winding road that led to the large wooden door. Leslie jumped out and looked around at the manicured gardens and shielded her eyes from the sun while she examined the turrets.

  “Perfect,” she said, and she followed Elle into the lobby.

  Elle booked them in and they headed up to their room, which was a deep yellow color and dotted with pictures and small paintings that were rubbish according to Elle. The twin beds were covered with blankets, the top ones flowery, and in contrast the headboards were covered in gingham. Two pink chairs rested at the ends of the beds, and both women agreed the decor was vomit inducing and yet it suited the place perfectly. A white wood-framed window revealed the most beautiful view of gardens that seemed to roll into the sea. Although it was summer, the hotel was all but empty. Leslie and Elle lunched alone in the grand dining room, and when Leslie’s mind drifted away, Elle brought her back with talk of a swim. Leslie wasn’t too sure as she’d had two glasses of wine, but Elle assured her that the wine would only serve to heighten the experience.

  “We’ve no swimsuits.”

  “We don’t need swimsuits.”

  “I’m not getting into the sea in my knickers.”

  “Me neither,” Elle said with a grin.

  And before Leslie knew it she was following Elle across the lawns and through trees and toward the sea. Elle stripped as soon as she hit the water’s edge and threw her clothes behind her and ran full steam ahead into the water. Leslie called after her, but she was gone and swimming, powering through the water like a shark chasing its prey. The sun glistened on the water, making it sparkle, and she was so tempted to feel its softness on her skin. She looked around and there was no one to be seen. To hell with it. She stripped and ran as fast as she’d ever run into the freezing water and disappeared under it only to come up spluttering and with her hair all over her face and in her eyes and mouth.

  “Holy shit! The cold!” she roared.

  Elle laughed and told her to swim and she did, and although she wasn’t the powerhouse in the water that her friend was, she swam and swam until the cold turned to warmth and she could stop and enjoy the water swirling around her body.

  Elle swam up to her. “Nothing quite like the
freedom,” she said, “is there?”

  “No. There isn’t.”

  They were bobbing along and planning the evening ahead when Leslie spotted a boat in the distance. Mortified, she alerted Elle and was about to make a dash for the shore when Elle grabbed her arm and told her to relax. The boat was coming closer and Leslie could see that there were two men on board.

  “Relax? I’m naked!”

  “So?” Elle said, and she winked. “Time to get your tits out for the boys.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Elle laughed, and then she kicked and pushed herself out of the water, revealing her breasts, and the men whistled, and she waved and looked to Leslie, who was cringing.

  “It’s now or never,” she said.

  Leslie thought about it for a split second, and before she knew it she was revealing her naked breasts to an appreciative audience of two. They wolf-whistled and clapped, and she was laughing and lapping it up, and when she turned to Elle and caught her eye they both registered that they were sharing in a perfect high. They turned away from the men and swam to the shore and ran out and shook themselves off. They covered themselves, and the boys waved, and they responded.

  When they had dressed, Leslie lay on the sand in a wet T-shirt and leggings and turned to her friend. “Thanks,” she said.

  “My pleasure,” Elle said, and they both grew silent and stared into the blue sky.

  When it got dark, they ventured to the local pub. It was a tiny spit-on-the-floor place with wooden pews for seats and rickety tables leveled by coasters. They enjoyed a couple of drinks before the two men from the boat appeared, and of course Elle was delighted to see them and immediately invited them to join them. Leslie was mortified, the high-on-adventure feeling she’d experienced earlier turning to embarrassment and awkwardness, but Elle was having none of it. The men were both in their early thirties. They were fishing for a few days and roaming from port to port. They introduced themselves as Adrian and Keith. Adrian was tall and broad and he had mousy brown hair, tousled, and stubble on his face. He reminded Leslie of Grizzly Adams. Keith was slightly taller and leaner than his friend. He had long hair tied at the nape of his neck and big brown eyes just like Vincent’s except they were not framed by Vincent’s thick lashes. The two men sat with their drinks in hand and Elle chatted with them as though she’d known them all her life.

  “What about you?” Adrian asked Leslie.

  “She’s too embarrassed to talk,” Elle explained when Leslie left him hanging.

  “Why?”

  “She’s not used to exposing herself to strangers,” Elle said.

  “And you are?” Keith asked, and Elle laughed but failed to respond to his question.

  “Well, trust me, Leslie,” Adrian said, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  Leslie drained her glass. “Thanks,” she said.

  By the time the four of them were kicked out of the pub they were friends, laughing and joking and pushing one another down the street under a bright white moon. Adrian put his arm around Leslie’s shoulders and she examined it for a second before relaxing against him.

  “Adrian?”

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Would you like to have sex with me?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes again,” he said.

  “Oh good,” she said, “that’s a big relief.”

  They walked together to the boat, and Keith and Elle kept walking, leaving them to it.

  “How do you feel about a bed in a castle?” Elle asked.

  “Sounds like bliss,” he said.

  “You haven’t seen the décor.”

  They walked on, arm in arm.

  “I’m not having sex with you,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “I find you attractive and funny, and ordinarily I would but I’m very tired and today has been perfect and I’d like to sleep now,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said, and they walked into her room together and she kissed him good night and they jumped into the single beds and were asleep within minutes.

  Leslie was standing in the middle of a bobbing boat wondering what she was doing. She heard the toilet light go off. The door opened and Adrian appeared. He walked up to her and she waited for him to kiss her. He fixed her hair and touched her face with his hand; he cupped her chin and leaned in and his lips hovered close to hers, and she wished to Christ he’d get on with kissing her because her legs were going to go from under her if she wasn’t careful. And when he did kiss her, a deep, wet, soft kiss, she closed her eyes and thought, This beats the shit out of batteries.

  They made love once, then twice, and after that she told him about her surgery and he kissed her breasts and placed his hand on her stomach as she had done that morning and a lifetime ago, and he told her that she was beautiful and that she would always be beautiful, and she cried and he held her, and when she was done crying he kissed her and they made love again.

  On the morning that Kurt and Irene’s Leaving Cert exams started, Jane was as nervous as if it were her own future on the line. Kurt found schoolwork easy—he was like his mother that way. Irene had to work a bit harder, but she was happy to do just enough to qualify for Nursing. He was determined to get Medicine. Jane laid out a huge breakfast to feed the pair of them, and when Irene was first into the kitchen Jane pulled out a chair for her.

  “Sit,” she ordered.

  “I’m not that hungry, Jane.”

  “You need food,” Jane said, and she began piling pancakes onto a plate.

  As Kurt was still in the shower and they had time alone together, Jane asked Irene why she wanted to be a nurse.

  “Because Kurt wants Medicine,” she said. “And even if I studied day and night for forty years I wouldn’t get Medicine.”

  “Kurt is your reason?”

  “Kurt and I want to go to Trinity.”

  “But what if you hate it?”

  “As long as we’re together I’ll love it.”

  “I hope you’re right. Otherwise you’re going to be cleaning vomit for the rest of your life because of a boy you knew when you were seventeen.”

  Irene laughed. “You’re so funny, Jane!”

  Kurt appeared, and they kissed, and Jane began to wonder where time was going.

  Her son and his girlfriend enjoyed their hearty breakfast while Jane cleaned around them.

  “Do you have enough pens?”

  “Mum, you bought us about five thousand. Relax.”

  “Okay, double-check your bags for calculators.”

  “Have them,” Irene said.

  Jane put down the tea towel, reached into her bag and took out a twenty-euro note and put it on the table between them.

  “Buy some lunch—oh crap,” Jane said. “Batteries. I forgot batteries.”

  “What do you need batteries for?” Kurt asked.

  “The calculators.”

  “They’re solar,” Irene said, and she giggled.

  “Oh, right, of course they are.”

  “Jane?” Irene said.

  “What?”

  “If you didn’t have Kurt, would you have gone to college?”

  Kurt looked up from his food. It was a question he’d never thought to ask his mother.

  “I was thinking about Medicine,” she said.

  “You never said!” Kurt exclaimed.

  “Well, it was just an idea. After all, I didn’t sit for the exams. I had you two weeks before them.”

  “I think you would have been a cool doctor,” Irene said.

  Jane smiled and blushed a little. “Thanks, Irene.”

  “Yeah, Mum,” Kurt said, “you would have been cool.”

  “Thanks, son.”

  “It’s a pity you were such a big slut,” he said, and he winked at her the way his dad did when he said something outrageous and thought it was funny.

  Irene and Kurt burst out laughing and high-fived, and Jane couldn’t help but laugh along with them. Cheeky little bastard.
r />   Midway through the exams, when Irene and Kurt had a day off, Martha invited her daughter and her boyfriend to lunch. Kurt regarded Irene’s mother with suspicion, but Irene begged him to join them, so he did, and he was really glad he had. Martha had reviewed the situation she found herself in with her daughter and decided the only way back into her daughter’s good graces would be to buy her way back in, and so at the end of an expensive lunch she handed her daughter an envelope.

  It contained two InterRail tickets.

  “What’s this?” Irene asked.

  “It’s a month’s traveling through Europe,” Martha said.

  “But we’re going to Greece,” Kurt said.

  “For two weeks,” she said, “and then you’re going to Europe for a month.” She smiled her big porcelain-toothed smile. Anything the Moores can do I can do better.

  “No way!” Kurt said.

  “Oh my God!” Irene shouted.

  They hugged each other, and then Irene hugged her mother, and Kurt shook her hand awkwardly, but when he moved in for a hug, they bumped and Martha pushed him off. “You’re welcome,” Martha said.

  Twenty minutes after that, Kurt witnessed his girlfriend’s mother manipulate her into coming back home on her return from Europe, and as much as he wanted to say something he kept quiet because Irene looked so happy.

  At first Jane was unhappy with the notion of her child backpacking around Europe, so she called Dominic and they arranged to meet for lunch to discuss it. The rain had been coming down in buckets for three days straight. Jane battled her way into the restaurant and shook the rain off. Dominic was waiting. They kissed and it was slightly awkward, but both pretended not to notice. She got to business straightaway.

  “That bitch thinks she’s so clever.”

  “Or maybe she just wanted to do something nice for her daughter.”

  “She’s getting back at me.”

  “Really? Don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid?”

  “No, I don’t.” She sighed. “She’s saying in no uncertain terms that if she can’t have her daughter, I can’t have my son.”

  “I think you’re being hysterical,” he said, and she made that twisted face that made her look like her mother, so he backed down. “Or not—you’re right and she’s a bitch from hell, but at least Kurt gets to do something great.”