The Truth Will Out Page 27

  1 February 1976 – Sunday

  Matthew and I had a huge fight. He said I had lied to him and that I should have told him and that all this time he’s been making plans and now they’re all messed up. He was so angry. I said I thought it would go away. He said I was like my mother. That hurt but he was right. I stuck my head in the sand just like she does and now I don’t know what to do. He wouldn’t talk to me. He said he couldn’t look at me and I’m desperate. I know I was wrong and I know I’ve hurt him but I just want him to hug me and tell me it will be okay. I don’t want to go to a convent and come out with no baby and a bit mental. I don’t want to go to England and disappear. And what if HE finds out? I’m in big trouble. Matthew, where are you?

  2 February

  Liv,

  All I could think of on the train was you. I shouldn’t have said those things. I sounded like my dad and I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know you weren’t lying. I know you were trying to make the best of things the way you always do. I want you to know that we’ll be okay. Maybe we can still go to America and even if we can’t I’ll marry you. I’d marry you tomorrow. Maybe Henry could talk to my granddad and we could get married as soon as the exams are over, we’ll see. I just don’t want you to worry. I think you were right not to tell Dr B. I think it’s better if we keep it to ourselves for a while. My grandparents are very old-fashioned and your mother isn’t very well so we’ll say nothing at least for a while. Please don’t worry and please don’t cry any more. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ll see you at the weekend.

  Love Matt

  23. No, no, no, no and no

  Susan and Harri met Aidan in Paddy Cullen’s bar. The place was jammed as usual but they found a seat at the very back. Aidan looked well, having just returned from a week-long getaway to Playa del Ingles. He was tanned, relaxed, fresh-faced and happier than the girls had seen him for a long time.

  ‘I always thought Playa del Ingles was a horrible kip,’ Susan said.

  ‘Oh, it is, but it’s a gaytastic horrible kip – besides, if you spend a few quid it’s not so bad.’

  ‘I’m not going to ask what you got up to.’ Harri grinned.

  ‘Better not,’ he said, curling his lip the way he always did when he was thinking something filthy. ‘And George?’ he asked, as if it was better to get it out of the way.

  ‘He’s good.’

  ‘Still hanging out with his mother?’ Aidan asked, smiling.

  Harri gave Susan a dirty look, before returning Aidan’s gaze. ‘Yes, he is but he’s fine.’

  ‘I’m glad. And you, Miss Harri. I hear you’re heading to Seville.’

  ‘Next week.’

  ‘And Melissa …’

  ‘... is still planning on walking out on her husband and two kids for three days midweek. We’re calling it Operation Fuck You Gerry.’

  Aidan laughed. ‘A bold move.’

  ‘Desperate times and all that,’ Harri observed.

  Susan was quiet.

  ‘Susan?’ Aidan said, and she smiled at him. ‘How are things with Andrew?’

  ‘Difficult,’ she said honestly. ‘Sometimes it feels like we’re strangers.’ She bowed her head. ‘But we’re working on it and at least Beth is being a moody cow again so we’re back to some normality!’ She laughed a little.

  ‘And how’s his dick?’ Aidan said.

  ‘Surgery soon, maybe before Christmas.’

  ‘Say no more!’ Aidan said, with his hand up. ‘I’m sorry I asked.’

  They spent a very pleasant night catching up, so Aidan waited until the end of the night to reveal to his two friends that he was leaving.

  ‘Leaving where?’ Susan asked.

  ‘Ireland,’ he said.

  ‘Bollocks!’ Harri laughed.

  ‘Remember my friend from California?’

  ‘The one with the electric car?’ Susan guessed.

  ‘No, he lives in California but he’s from Berlin. I’m talking about the guy from California living in London.’

  ‘Oh, the one who cries when he sings that song from The Lion King?’ Harri said, with her finger in the air.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well?’ Susan pushed.

  ‘He’s been contracted to do a massive refurbishment job in Kent. It’s a stately home, a listed building. I’d get back into conservation plastering, pargeting, lime washing, lime plastering and all the interesting stuff. The stuff I’m good at. I’m sick of painting and decorating brand-new builds. I worked hard to get good at what I do and in the past two years I’ve got lazy. I took work because it was there and it was easy but I want more than that.’

  Susan raised her glass. ‘That’s great.’

  ‘Don’t go!’ Harri said, with moist eyes.

  ‘It’s not for ever,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘You don’t know that,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll miss you, ladies.’ He raised his glass to meet Susan’s.

  ‘Ah, there’s plenty more fag-hags where we came from!’ Susan said, laughing.

  Harri leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘I love you,’ she said, and he knew she meant it.

  ‘I love you too,’ he answered.

  Melissa didn’t get to say goodbye. Carrie was still sick, Gerry had a conference, and Aidan was leaving the next day.

  George wasn’t used to working all day or, indeed, most evenings. In fact, George wasn’t used to working much at all. He’d managed to avoid any real work until this his thirtieth year and, although he had realized a long-held dream, he was beginning to recognize the value of hard-earned money. He was tired most evenings yet, without Aidan, his apartment was nothing more than an empty space. As Aidan had never formally lived there and had had a place of his own, George hadn’t grasped how much time they’d actually spent together in the apartment. He wasn’t used to being alone. He didn’t like it. He tried to make the best of it but when that failed he drove to his mother’s house, where she would fuss and cook and pour him wine, and they’d laugh about things that not very many other people would find funny, including his father. As soon as Aidan had left George, Gloria and Duncan were forgiven. George’s forgiveness, although born of necessity, was gratefully received in the Ryan household.

  ‘Oh, darling,’ said Gloria, ‘I haven’t told you Mona’s jumping out of a plane for charity.’

  ‘Moaning is jumping out of a plane?’

  ‘For the paraplegics.’

  ‘Does she know a paraplegic?’

  ‘No, darling, but, as I said to her, she’s only a jump away.’

  George and his mother cracked up laughing while Duncan mumbled that they weren’t as funny as they’d like to think. Being a paraplegic is no bleedin’ joke.

  When at last George returned to his own abode Harri was on the phone before he’d put his coat down.

  ‘How did you know I was home?’

  ‘I had a feeling. Did you know Aidan’s moving to London?’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive.’

  ‘Okay. I just wanted you to know.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, in a tone that suggested he was light, happy, even.

  ‘What?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Do not lie to me.’

  ‘Okay. Okay. Calm down, put away the axe.’

  ‘So.’

  ‘Brendan called me.’

  ‘Brendan who?’

  ‘Brendan McCabe.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And we’re going for a drink.’

  Silence.

  ‘Harri?’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘He’s nice. He’s attractive. I like him.’

  ‘He’s more than fifty years of age.’

 
‘So?’

  ‘So it’s mad. It’s madder than mad. It’s mental.’

  ‘I like him.’

  ‘No. No. No. No. No. No. And no!’ She hung up.

  George put the phone down. I like him.

  27 March 1976 – Saturday

  If my last period was on 30 October we think I’m about four and a half months. If we leave Ireland straight after the exams nobody will know until we get to Kentucky. It’s a risk but I’m still small, probably because I puke the minute I smell food. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything other than a carrot stick. I really love carrot sticks and I hated them before. My tummy is rock-hard. Matthew said it’s like a boxer’s. You can’t see anything when I’m dressed but the last night when he came home and we were in his room I took off my clothes and my belly was huge. He kept laughing and touching it and making me do poses in front of the mirror. It’s not so big this morning. It sounds mad but it gets way bigger at night. I hope it stays that way. I don’t mind if it’s big at night as long as it’s small during the day.

  Sheila’s suspicious – it must be the nurse in her. She keeps asking me about what I’ve had to eat. I need to be careful of her. I love Sheila but she has a really big mouth. My mam hasn’t a clue. She just does her own thing, which is nothing, really. HE’s been back a few weeks but he’s busy unloading paper at the docks. Mam has really let herself go. She used to dye her hair but it’s grey now. Long grey hair looks weird. I can see why people think she’s scary. Dr B is still trying to get her to do some tests but you might as well be talking to the wall.

  I’m also trying to steer well clear of Father Ryan but for some reason every time I turn around he’s there. Always asking questions, always trying to talk about patience and love and God and I don’t know what else. I switch off. I think he still feels bad about talking Mam into letting HIM back only for Dr B to tell him that he tried to have sex with me. Poor Father Ryan, he’s trying his best. He was visiting the school the other day and we sat together at lunch. Sheila ran off – she didn’t want to be seen with a priest – but I don’t care. He’s nice, really, and sometimes he’s even funny. He doesn’t like cars and he gives out about them a lot and he doesn’t like the heat. Who doesn’t like the heat? He said it makes him itch. He likes it cool. I said he should move to Poland. He said he’d think about that. He ruffled my hair just before he left, like Henry ruffles Matthew’s. It’s nice to have someone look out for you even if it is a priest who would shove you in a convent as soon as look at you if he knew you were pregnant. I hope I stay small. I hope they don’t know.

  Sometimes I get hungry and I’m not sick but I try not to eat because if they find out it could all be over, everything we’ve worked for. Matthew said no matter what we’ll get to Kentucky. He’ll make sure of it. I know we’ll get there. I can’t wait. Four months to go!!!

  24. Reality bites

  Harri’s phone rang in tandem with her alarm clock. The clock screamed beep-beep, shortly followed by her phone singing the Pussycat Dolls’ ‘Loosen Up My Buttons’. She shot up in her bed. George, will you stop messing with my ring tone! She turned off the alarm and picked up the phone. ‘Up.’

  ‘Good. Synchronize your watch because Operation Fuck You Gerry is a go,’ Melissa whispered in her kitchen, while Gerry and Carrie slept soundly above her head. Jacob was ensconced in front of Scooby-Doo with a bowl of cereal.

  She’d made Jacob’s lunch, packed his schoolbag and left it by the front door. The day before she had ensured that the kitchen was well stocked with food and that Mrs Rafferty would be turning up at eight thirty to take care of Carrie (who had recovered from her cold but still ‘had a few sniffles’ – or so Melissa had told Gerry). But for three days after that Melissa’s family were officially on their own.

  She retrieved the suitcase she’d hidden under the stairs and was waiting outside for the taxi when it pulled up. Seville, here we come!

  Harri was queuing by the check-in desk. She wasn’t talking. She just handed her ticket and passport to Melissa and walked off. Melissa took no notice of this as Harri was clinically unable to communicate before eight a.m. As it was only six, Melissa was not only prepared for silence but only too happy to bask in it. She was nearly at the top of the queue when Harri returned with two coffees. She handed one to Melissa in silence, Melissa received it, and together they stood sipping until called to cross the yellow line.

  The plane wasn’t full. Melissa liked to sit by the window. Harri liked the aisle seat. The middle one was free and became a place for newspapers, magazines, a makeup bag, and some bonbons for Melissa to suck while ascending and descending. The plane took off at eight fifteen and talking was allowed.

  ‘My dad’s sister Noreen’s ear started to bleed on one of these flights,’ Melissa said, tipping her head to the side and scrunching her mouth into an O shape. ‘Can you imagine? Blood poured from it. My father always said it would never have happened if she’d been sucking.’

  Harri thought of a dirty joke but it was too early to bother delivering it.

  ‘So, are you nervous?’ asked Melissa.

  ‘A lot of Spanish people speak excellent English.’

  ‘Not about that.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah, it will be weird but we have our own room and it’s not like we’ll be joined to him at the hip. Plus he’s working, you know, horse trading or whatever so …’ She shrugged.

  ‘Are you excited?’ Melissa asked, with a grin.

  ‘Is nervous the same as excited?’

  Melissa thought about that for a minute. ‘Not sure – it might be. I’m excited. I can’t wait to meet him.’

  ‘Don’t flirt. If you flirt I’ll die.’

  ‘Of course I’m not going to flirt! I’m a married woman and he’s your father.’

  ‘He’s only five years older than Gerry.’

  ‘It’s mad, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s mad.’

  Melissa sniffed. ‘Do you feel a change in pressure?’

  ‘No.’

  Melissa popped a bonbon just to be sure. ‘I wonder how the kids are?’ she said, and looked out at the white fluffy clouds beneath her.

  Gerry turned off his alarm at seven a.m. and reached across the bed to find an empty space. This wasn’t unusual. Melissa was probably walking the floor with Carrie but if that was the case why was Carrie crying? When the crying didn’t stop and instead became louder and more intense he got up.

  ‘Melissa?’ he called.

  ‘She made my breakfast and left,’ Jacob said, from the bottom of the stairs.

  Gerry looked down at him. ‘What are you doing, son?’

  ‘Watching Scooby-Doo.’

  ‘Okay.’ He walked into Carrie’s bedroom, where he found a very distressed little girl. ‘Don’t cry, Daddy’s here. Don’t cry!’ She wasn’t complying. So he walked with her. ‘Shush …’ She bawled. He introduced a bounce into his step. ‘Shush …’ She bawled louder. He bounced his little girl in his arms while attempting to reach his wife on her mobile phone. It was turned off. Blast it! She said nothing about having an early meeting. It was only when he went to the kitchen that he noticed the note on the fridge door.

  Dear Gerry,

  You say we can’t manage without two wages. You say that we both work hard. You say that most of the time I make a fuss about nothing – after all, Jacob goes to playschool and Mrs Rafferty minds Carrie. You say it’s not so hard and maybe you are right but to be sure I think we should test this theory. I’m in Seville and won’t be back until Friday morning. Mrs Rafferty will be here at 8.30 and Jacob will have to be in playschool by 9.00.

  Good luck,

  Your loving wife,

  Melissa

  xxx

  He laughed a little. This is a joke. She’s joking. ‘Melissa! Ha ha, very funny!’ Silence. ‘Melissa!’ She’s not joking. Oh, my God, she’s not j
oking.

  ‘Dad, I’m hungry.’

  ‘I thought your mother fed you.’

  ‘She did but I’m still hungry.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Dad, get Carrie to stop crying.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m cold.’

  It was at this point that Gerry realized his son was naked. Jesus. Okay. ‘Where are your pyjamas?’

  ‘I took them off.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I wanted to.’

  ‘Right, let’s go upstairs.’

  They trudged upstairs.

  ‘I want Spiderman.’

  Gerry put the Batman boxers back in the drawer. ‘Here we go – Spiderman!’ His son stepped into the boxers and he pulled them up. ‘Right – jeans.’

  ‘I want cargo pants.’

  ‘Can’t see them.’

  ‘Okay. I want –’

  ‘Jacob, see these jeans in my hand? You’re wearing them.’

  Jacob shrugged as he wasn’t too pushed either way.

  Getting the child’s top on was hardest, especially with a weeping Carrie in his arms. When his son was fully dressed Gerry sighed, happy to have achieved a remarkable feat.

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My Spiderman boxers feel tight.’