The Truth Will Out Page 2

  ‘I did not,’ she’d responded, thinking he was a mental case, and deciding against ordering dessert.

  He believed that reptiles were especially marginalized. ‘I mean, what have lizards ever done to anyone?’

  She didn’t reply, hoping he’d change the subject. He didn’t. Instead he told her about his pet snake, Ronnie: he’d had him for about three years when Ronnie had died of organ failure. James had blamed himself for not reading the signs. ‘He definitely didn’t look sick,’ he said. ‘I loved that snake.’ James had a cute wrinkle that appeared just over his eye when he was upset, as it did now.

  James worked as an architect. His great love was buildings and he was an artist who strove for perfection. He controlled every aspect of a job, from the foundations to the roof. When he walked around his finished construction he experienced a high akin to that of a rock star playing to a crowd of fifteen thousand at Wembley. James was a builder from a different age, yet he was fierce about the environment, insisting that he only worked on eco-friendly structures.

  They had met six years earlier through work. He was building a house; Harri and Susan Shannon, her business partner, were decorating it. On that very day Susan had said she hoped he had a decent IQ because Harri should marry him. Harri had laughed her off and thought no more of it. Susan had always had a keen interest in match-making and did so with anyone who would let her. She said it was a replacement for sex. From the outset she was sure Harri and James had chemistry and was decidedly happy when, within weeks of their meeting, they proved her correct.

  Susan had recently turned forty-six and for her birthday her husband had bought her a garden hose. It was an expensive garden hose with lots of handy attachments and powerful enough to clean a stone patio, as well as sprinkle the plants, but she had wanted to shove it down his throat.

  ‘James would never buy me a hose,’ Harri had said, and she was right. However, he had bought her a shredder after watching a news report on identity fraud.

  Susan sighed. ‘Whatever happened to romance?’

  ‘I think it’s a casualty of feminism.’

  ‘The question was rhetorical and you think too much.’

  Over-thinking was probably Harri’s biggest problem.

  Anyway, two days after Susan had made her little remark about James being marriage material, he had asked Harri out. Although their first date had begun a little strangely, by the end of the evening, while they were sitting outside the Dun Laoghaire apartment she shared with a contemporary dancer called Tina Tingle, things had improved considerably.

  When the car had stopped, she had immediately put her hand on the door handle to suggest she was getting out without delay.

  ‘Sorry,’ he’d said. ‘I’m a little out of practice.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ She blushed, embarrassed by his frankness.

  ‘Where did I lose you?’ he asked.

  ‘Your in-depth description of the texture of Ronnie’s scales.’

  He laughed. ‘I talk utter shit when I’m nervous.’

  She smiled. ‘My brother does that. After my nana’s funeral he talked about belly-button fluff for a whole hour.’

  There was silence for a moment or two and James noticed that Harri’s hand was no longer on the door handle.

  ‘So you’re out of practice?’ she said, scratching the back of her neck and facing the windscreen. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him rub his forehead and the crinkles around his eyes suggested a smile.

  ‘It’s been a while.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘and a while would be what?’

  He laughed. ‘You’re not behind the door, are you?’

  ‘Usually I am,’ she admitted. ‘Usually I’m behind the door, down the hall and into the boxroom on the left.’

  He had a full, dirty laugh.

  ‘So?’ she probed. I can’t believe I’m being so pushy.

  ‘Two years.’

  ‘Can I ask?’

  ‘We were together for four years and she got sick.’

  ‘Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. I’m being way too nosy.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. It took time but she got better … She got better and decided she wanted a different kind of life so she broke my heart and moved to Australia, where I believe she married a surfer six months later.’

  ‘Right.’ Harri was bloody sorry she’d started her interrogation. ‘I feel terrible.’

  ‘Why?’ His smile had returned.

  ‘Just do.’ She shrugged her shoulders.

  Harri didn’t engage in the lives of those not close to her because sad stories affected her too much. She took them on board and lived them when she was alone. Sadness haunted her.

  ‘What about you?’ he asked, noticing that Harri’s knees had turned towards him.

  ‘I was going out with a carpenter called Simon for nearly a year. We split up six months ago. It wasn’t anything in particular, we just didn’t fit.’

  ‘And before Simon?’

  ‘College thing. Ian Grace. He was an engineering student. We were together for just over three years.’

  ‘Trinity?’

  ‘UCD.’

  ‘What happened with you two?’

  ‘He took a job in Saudi. I don’t really like the sun.’

  ‘Harri?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If I promise not to talk shit would you agree to see me again?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Harri?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you mind terribly if I leaned in for a kiss? I don’t mind if you say no.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, bollocks!’

  ‘Only joking!’ And that was it.

  They just fitted.

  They were both hard workers and both liked to read. Neither of them was particularly into music or TV, preferring a silent room as a background to conversation. They both liked to talk, to cook and to laugh. James could always make Harri laugh.

  ‘Knock, knock?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ah, come on! Knock, knock!’

  ‘James.’

  ‘Knock, knock?’

  ‘God almighty, who’s there?’

  ‘Gorilla.’

  ‘Gorilla who?’

  ‘Gorilla me a cheese sandwich.’

  You know when someone tells you such an utterly stupid unfunny joke that all you can do is laugh at the ridiculousness of it? Well, Harri would laugh and he’d clap his hands, delighting in his hilarity.

  ‘There’s something wrong with you.’

  ‘Yeah, there is! I’m hungry so gorilla me a cheese sandwich.’

  ‘Oh, sweet God, don’t drag the thing on!’

  ‘You love my jokes.’

  She really didn’t, but she did love him.

  She was gazing out on to a clean street lined with white blossom trees that seemed to herald a time for change. It was while she was adrift in a place beyond the blossom that the awful feeling came in the form of a sweeping wave. Terror rose from within her and threatened to engulf not only her but the entire room. Her head was buzzing. Everything inside her shouted that something was off. Oh, no, not again! An overpowering and insane notion crossed her mind that she didn’t belong. She had been here before. Her hands were clammy and her heart rate increased. Just breathe, Harri, like George said. The clammy hands threatened to shake. Just calm down, Harri. Don’t be a dick, please. She knew that at any moment she would begin to feel dizzy and then she would disconnect. Mum is going to kill me. Her breath shortened and her hands rose to her throat, signalling that she was choking.

  Mona was the first to notice. ‘Oh, Christ, she’s at it again! George, call an ambulance before she goes bloody blue on us!’

  1 May 1975 – Thursday

  Mam was crying again last night. I heard HIM come in. He was shouting at her calling, �
��Deirdre, Deirdre, Deirdre!’ Some day he’ll wear her name out. I heard him bang at her door. She must have locked it. ‘Deirdre, open the door, you miserable bitch!’

  ‘I won’t!’ she said.

  Can you believe she answered him when he’d called her a miserable bitch? What’s wrong with her? At least she locked her door. I locked mine too. He’s a freak. I hate him. He stormed out screaming that he’d be back, and made his way down the road cursing loud enough for Nosy Crowley in number seven to hear. I saw her curtain twitching as he passed her house, swearing at nothing and everything. You could see she was delighted – that’ll keep her talking, the nosy old biddy.

  Sometimes I lie awake and wonder why did she have to marry him. Did she really love him or was she just lonely after Dad? I thought we were happy. In fact, I know we were until he came along. She rushed into it – at least, that’s what I heard Nosy Crowley say in the chemist when I was hiding behind shelving and she was talking with Mrs Stephens about the last time he left our house cursing. Nosy called her stupid, and to be fair to Nosy, she’s not wrong. My mother is a stupid woman. I’d never be stupid enough to fall for a horrible man like him and I’ll never marry.

  School’s a nightmare, can’t wait for the holidays. Don’t know what I’m going to do – HE says I’ll have to get a job. Maybe I will, but not because of him. In two weeks I’ll be sixteen. Mam said I might get a bottle of Charlie and a Bay City Rollers tape. I hope it happens. I hope he doesn’t drink all the money. I adore the smell of Charlie.

  In one year I’ll be gone from here. I can’t wait. Every day feels like a year and some days feel like ten years. Sheila says she’s going to join the bank. Last week she wanted to do hairdressing, and a month ago she was thinking of teaching. I don’t know what I want to be. I just know that I want to be anywhere but Wicklow.

  I saw that doctor again – he was fishing off the rocks. He looks my age, maybe a year or two older. I’d put him at nineteen. Sheila says he’s at least mid-twenties. He always looks sad even when he smiles. He’s shy too. It must be hard for him in a new town. I’d hate to be a doctor – people are disgusting. I wonder where he’s from.

  I had a dream last night. I dreamed I was on a boat that kept returning to shore. Every time the boat inched out to sea it was pulled back. It scared me. I’m obsessing. Sheila says I obsess. She thinks I should relax and enjoy life. Easy for her to say – she doesn’t live with a drunk. Her father is getting rich serving all the drunks in town. She’s never had to hide in her room. She gets to sit with her dad watching Morecambe and Wise on a colour TV so it’s easy for her to relax and enjoy life. I miss Sheila. I wish she wasn’t with that Dave. What’s so great about Dave? He has a Kevin Keegan perm. Sheila thinks it’s cool and it’s really, really not. He stinks of his dad’s Brut and he’s always pawing her. Yesterday he kept putting her down trying to be funny, which he wasn’t. I wanted to punch him hard. Mam says that sometimes I get a look and it frightens her.

  It’s after ten and I’m tired. HE’s still in the pub. If I go to sleep now maybe I won’t hear him. First I’ll lock the door. Sheila’s dad says that you should never lock a bedroom door in case of fire. It’s not fire I’m scared of. I’d rather burn.

  I just decided. Tomorrow I’m going to look for a summer job, anything to get me out of this house. It makes me laugh.

  He says I have to get a job but he sits in a pub or leans on the bank wall with his mate all day every day. Mam always makes excuses. She says dockers can only work when the coasters come in, but Anita Shea’s dad is a docker and he paints and wallpapers houses, and Tim Healy’s dad takes shifts behind the bar in the Pole instead of sitting in front of it drinking all the money he’s earned for two days’ work in two hours. Anyway, I don’t care about that. He can do what he wants. I’m gone from here. One year can feel like for ever or a day.

  My dad used to say that. I think I’ll sit with him for a while tomorrow. Maybe I’ll clean his headstone. Birds seem to think it’s a toilet and it’s funny because Rita Heneghan is right beside him and her headstone is always clean as a whistle and I’ve never seen anyone visit her. Once a bird actually did a shit on his one while I was sitting there! My dad would think that was funny. He used to laugh a lot. I miss him. I wish he was here, but he’s not so what’s the point in wishing? He’s gone. Feck him for that.

  Oh, and just so I never forget, today in the woods I heard spring. I actually heard it, in the trees and the breeze and the dogs barking along the trails and the sky was so, so blue and the grass was the brightest green. I leaned on brown bark and inhaled fresh air. When all is said and done I’ll miss those woods.

  2. A&E

  Harri woke up lying on a gurney in A&E. Her mother and father were sitting at either side of her. There was no sign of her fiancé. George was standing by the window, commenting on a woman who was clearly making an arse of an attempt to parallel-park. ‘Good God, woman, you could fit a small island in there!’

  Harri was awake long before she could bring herself to open her eyes. I can’t believe I’ve done it again. Her parents were silent. Eventually she could feign slumber no more.

  ‘There she is,’ her father said. ‘There’s our girl.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’

  ‘Ssh, my darling, everything’s fine now.’

  Within seconds, George was lying with her on the bed, her head resting in the crook of his arm. ‘If it’s any consolation, you’re the most glamorous patient in this place.’

  Harri realized she was still in her wedding dress. She fought tears. ‘Where’s James?’

  Duncan’s brother, Father Ryan, came into the room with four coffees. Harri’s parents relieved him of theirs and Gloria passed George his.

  ‘Do you want a coffee, my darling?’

  ‘No thanks, Mum.’

  ‘She’s back,’ Gloria said to her brother-in-law.

  Father Ryan leaned over the bed. ‘Well, hello there,’ he said. ‘You’ll be the death of one of us, Harriet Ryan.’

  ‘Sorry, Uncle Thomas.’

  Father Ryan allowed the twins to call him Uncle Thomas but to everyone else, including his brother and sister-in-law, he was Father Ryan. ‘Well, they say three times is a charm.’ This latest panic attack was Harri’s second, the first having occurred on the eve of her first aborted wedding six months previously.

  ‘Where’s James?’ she asked again.

  Gloria’s hands fluttered towards her neck, as they always did when she was anxious. Duncan remained silent and Father Ryan was busy drinking his coffee. George spoke up. ‘He was here, Harri. He made sure you were okay and then he left.’

  ‘He hates me,’ she said, and buried her head in the pillow.

  ‘He doesn’t hate you,’ said George. ‘He’s just upset.’

  ‘I’ve left him at the altar twice, George.’

  ‘You didn’t do it on purpose.’

  ‘There’s something wrong. I’m obviously mental.’

  ‘No, you’re not!’ Gloria said, attempting a smile. ‘Every bride gets nervous.’

  ‘But they don’t end up in A&E!’

  ‘Harri, mind your tone!’ her dad warned.

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’

  ‘That’s all right, love, we’re all a little tense.’

  ‘Where’s Melissa?’

  ‘She’s settling the kids. She’s going to leave them with Gerry and then she’ll meet us at my place,’ George replied. He drank some coffee and spluttered. ‘Awful, just bloody awful!’ He was referring to the coffee but it summed up the day beautifully.

  Harri lay on the gurney surrounded by her family, yet she was completely and utterly alone. The terror had subsided and in its place were horror and a sinking depression that was turning her brain to glue. He’ll never forgive me. I can’t believe I’ve done it again. What’s wron
g with me?

  George’s apartment was a penthouse in Temple Bar. He loved the bustle of the city centre. He’d bought it four years before, after Nana had died leaving the twins what she described as healthy nest eggs. It was spacious with three large bedrooms; it had two floors and high ceilings. It was painted white throughout and the walls were covered with African and European art collected on many different trips. At night the city lights made for a spectacular view but this evening the blinds were drawn, with a low lamp providing the only break in the darkness.

  ‘Can the patient drink wine?’ Melissa asked George, as she poured him a glass while he tucked a blanket around his sister’s legs, having insisted she lay on the sofa.

  ‘Her doctor would say no but I, like the man from Del Monte, say yes.’ He grinned and patted Harri’s flat hair. ‘You really need to wash that before something decides to land on it.’

  Melissa handed Harri a drink, then made herself comfortable in George’s favourite oversized armchair.

  ‘Do I really need this blanket?’ Harri asked, pulling at it.

  ‘Yes,’ her brother told her.

  ‘I’m so tired,’ she said.

  Melissa sighed loudly. ‘I just don’t get it. We all know how you hate to be the centre of attention but this is ridiculous.’

  Still at the hospital, after George had told their parents to go home, Harri had broken down, wailing and bawling. She had stopped only when the doctor wondered aloud as to whether or not she required sectioning. Then and there she had pledged no more tears and she was determined to uphold her promise.

  ‘I understand,’ George said, his wine swirling around his glass, checking its colour and clarity.

  ‘And?’ Melissa said, almost irritated by what she often described as the bullshit tasting techniques he’d learned in his bullshit wine-tasting course.

  ‘She’s not ready for marriage.’

  ‘What do you mean she’s not ready? She’s thirty. They’ve been going out for six years. They’ve got an apartment together, a rundown cottage in Wexford and a tank full of exotic fish.’