The Space Between Us Read online

‘Because I have to.’

  He called her a bitch and told her she was ruining everyone’s lives. Then he hung up.

  She bit her split lip, and Clooney presented her with more food he wanted her to eat.

  ‘Kids,’ he said, putting a small piece of fish, baby potatoes and some steamed vegetables in front of her. ‘Selfish little bastards, aren’t they?’

  It was her first real smile. She picked up the fork, put some food into her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

  Later that night, facing Clooney in bed, consumed by exhaustion but battling to stay awake, she smiled a little. ‘I’m almost free,’ she whispered.

  He kissed the top of her head and cupped her beautiful fragile face in his hands. ‘Yes, you are,’ he said. ‘Now go to sleep.’

  10. The blame game

  Sunday, 12 August 1990

  Lil?

  Hello?

  Where are you? It’s been two weeks and not a word. Have you forgotten all about us? Declan is freaking out. I’ve never seen him so upset. He says you haven’t called, and when I told him you hadn’t written, he lost it. He had a massive row with his dad because his dad won’t give him time off to go down there after you. I was there! I went into the garage to have lunch and collect my odds and ends to make some jewellery (I’ve even sold a few pieces in the café!) and he asked me if I’d heard anything and I said no and he said you hadn’t called, and then he started to bite at his fingers the way he does when he looks like he wants to start crying, and then his dad came in and said something shitty about me being there but he did it in a mumble so I couldn’t actually hear what it was but just loud enough so I knew he was unimpressed with me being there. Declan said to him he needed time off to go away and his dad just laughed, and Declan walked right up to him and I swear it looked like he was going to punch his father in the face and then his father squared up to Declan and it looked like he was going to punch Declan in the face, and I was thinking holy shit but anyway I think they remembered they weren’t animals, or that I was there or something, but they both backed away from one another. I told Declan I’d come back for lunch later but didn’t return. I thought it best to give him some room to cool down. He was really angry and it wasn’t pleasant to be around.

  Anyway, I went back the next day to see how he was and I was running really low on those small fiddly bolts that make such lovely bracelets. Can’t wait for you to see the stuff! I’m using Gina’s dad’s old kiln now too. I’ve a few pieces put by for you but meantime Barry Douglas wants a necklace for his girlfriend – as if he has one but, imaginary girlfriend or not, he’s a paying customer – and Rebecca Kelly is looking for a pair of earrings. I don’t charge much which is probably part of the charm but still, between me making the stuff and Declan finding the materials, we could have a nice little business going. Oh, and don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that dress you wanted made for the debs’ ball. I picked up the pattern last week while I was in town and the material is my present to you. I hope you like it when it’s finished. I can’t wait to see you in it.

  Back to the story. I went to the garage to see Declan and pick up my bits. I waited until I saw his father pass the coffee shop – he never works past four. I brought in some leftover cake that would have gone off or into the bin and a sandwich for him but he was too agitated to eat. He said that his dad wouldn’t let him go down the country and he was holding his wages. I couldn’t believe it. Can you? Declan was kicking things around and acting like a caged animal, one minute calm the next throwing such a tantrum that if I wasn’t so busy ducking from a box of screws hitting the wall it would have been laughable. I mean, I understand his frustration but he is so dramatic. Anyway, I managed to calm him down. I told him if he needed to borrow money I’d give it to him – it’s the least I could do bearing in mind I’ve earned about two hundred quid selling jewellery made from scraps he found. His humour changed completely, he picked me up and twirled me around and told me I was the best friend in the world. It was nice to see him so happy. I told him I should get Terry the Tourist to take a photo just so that we could all have a record of it. Anyway, his mother’s birthday is late next week and it’s a big one – she’s forty – so he has to stay here for that but afterwards he’s on the way down to you. He says he’ll leave his dad a note. I can only imagine what it will say.

  Seriously, please write. I know it’s probably got really busy in the restaurant and the weather’s good and you’re probably friends with Colm again and Clooney’s there with his pals but I’m up here all alone – well, not all alone but it feels like that. I was so bored last Wednesday I went to see Ghost with Danny. It was brilliant. You should see it if there is a cinema down there. Is there a cinema down there?

  Finally Ben’s granny died last Friday. She had been anointed four times, which is weird considering that if you believe in that stuff surely once should do the trick. Anyway the funeral was on Monday so Ben didn’t get back until Tuesday. It was so great to see him. He looked tired and he needed to cut his hair but other than that he is so handsome. I’d forgotten how handsome he is. He walked into the coffee shop and I swear my heart skipped a beat and my insides fizzed a little. I love that feeling, don’t you? Although it plays havoc with my appetite and you know I love my food. We had the best night ever on Friday night. Ben rented a hotel room in town. I told Danny I was going in to a gig and we stayed there from five o’clock in the evening until last bus. It was a small hotel that had the worst wallpaper I’ve ever seen and it smelt of smoke but the sheets were clean and the bed was big. We had such a good time. He really makes me laugh when I’m with him and I know it’s stupid to say but I really feel beautiful and when he touches me – arrrgh! But it got me thinking and suddenly I felt really sad. I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want him to feel sad too but I’ve only got three weeks left before I leave for London. He forgets my course starts a whole month before everyone else’s. I remind him but I don’t think he wants to remember that. I think he wants to pretend and that’s OK. I understand that. I wish I could pretend but I have to get ready, I have to focus, this is my lifelong dream. He fell asleep for a while and I lay there looking at him and I cried because even though I was inches away I missed him already. I thought my heart was going to split down the middle. I felt genuine pain so I went into the bathroom and I cried there. When he woke up I was in the bath and he joined me and I felt better but still it’s constantly on my mind. Three weeks, Lil, that’s all we have left. It makes me want to puke just thinking about it. Do you remember when we were sitting in Paul’s dad’s car and Roy Orbison came on the radio singing ‘Love Hurts’ and I said it was the worst song in the world? Well, it’s still in the Top 10 shit songs of all time but finally I get it when I think about getting on that plane and leaving home, my dad, Clooney, you, the lads. I think it’ll be OK, we’ll write and see each other at Christmas, and I won’t be in London for ever and I’m sad and lonely but I know I’ll be fine. When I think about leaving Ben I think I actually might die. It’s so stupid and dramatic and pathetic because I’ve known him for such a short time but the thought of losing him takes my breath away. I don’t like it. This is not where I wanted to be this summer but even so (the last two weeks aside and Ben’s stupid gran RIP) this is the best summer I’ve ever had. Three weeks left. Are you even going to be home in time to say goodbye? Please write to me. I miss you.

  Eve

  CAN YOU BELIEVE OUR RESULTS ARE OUT TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!

  When Lily went to collect Daisy she was gone: Declan had picked her up. When she went to Jack Donovan’s garage she found him there alone. Declan had asked Scott to stay at home to mind his sister.

  ‘He’s been busy,’ Lily said.

  ‘Is Scott right? Are you leaving Declan?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘For another man?’ His question was without malice or judgement.

  ‘For myself,’ she said.

  ‘Is he like I was?’ he asked, and looked at her straig
ht in the face. His eyes felt like a tractor beam locked on hers and she couldn’t escape his look.

  ‘No and yes, probably. He’s never touched the kids.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Once or twice,’ she said, breaking away from his stare.

  ‘I never touched his mother,’ he said, in a whisper, while wiping grease from his hands with an old tea-towel.

  He pointed to two battered chairs that he and Scott sat on to share their lunch.

  ‘You said the other night that he is what I made him,’ he said.

  She remembered saying it.

  ‘I put my hands up. I was a terrible father and I did terrible things, but at some point Declan has to take responsibility for who he is and for what he’s done.’

  ‘Suddenly you’re the Dalai Lama,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I remember the various states he was in when you’d finished with him. I remember the marks and the bruises and the crying. I’ve listened to him scream your name in his dreams and, yeah, you’re right, we are more than our past and it’s not a good enough excuse. But sometimes when he’s at his most vicious, paranoid and bullish, I look at him and I see you as clear as if you were standing in front of me. He’s your son, Mr Donovan. He is what you made him, genetically and socially. Maybe you’re not the narcissist or the bully you used to be, or maybe you’re just a different kind, and even if you’ve changed utterly through the AA or finding God or peace or purpose, I’m glad for you, but don’t think we’ll ever be allies because we won’t.’

  She got to her feet and brushed herself down.

  He stood up. ‘I understand,’ he said, and went back to work as she left.

  Clooney was waiting in the coffee shop a few doors down. It had changed a lot since the days when Eve had worked there. He had a coffee waiting for her. She told him that Scott had been called home.

  ‘What’s he playing at?’ Clooney said.

  ‘He’s rounding up his troops,’ she said.

  Adam had called to tell them that Declan had requested a few days off. Lily needed to go to the house and get her clothes. She knew that bringing Clooney with her would give her husband more ammunition to use in front of the kids, but she was too terrified to go by herself.

  They pulled up outside the house. They sat in the car for a moment while she braced herself. She opened the door, got out and walked up the path. He followed closely. She put her key in the door and it turned easily. The door swung open and she stepped inside. She could hear him in the kitchen: the radio was on and he was talking to Daisy. When she walked into the room, they were both at the island and Daisy was showing him how to make muffins. There were baking utensils everywhere and they were both covered with flour. Declan was licking icing off his fork. They stared at her as though she was an unwanted intruder. Scott came in through the back door from the garden. He stood staring too. In the thirty-plus hours since the rape, her husband had managed to turn her kids against her. Always the victim, Declan.

  ‘What are you doing here, Mum?’ Scott asked. He was angry, but when he looked from his mother to his father, his expression changed to concern. What have you said, Declan?

  Clooney appeared behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘What is he doing here?’ Daisy demanded.

  ‘He’s my friend.’

  ‘We know who he is. Dad showed us the pictures,’ Scott said.

  She looked at Declan. Did you show them the photos with my blood on them or another copy? ‘You’re a scumbag,’ she said.

  ‘You have a nerve,’ he said, ‘bringing him into our children’s home.’ He was standing behind Daisy holding her shoulder, mirroring Clooney because, as ever, he was the master manipulator. If he hadn’t positioned his twelve-year-old in front of him, Clooney might have jumped the counter and beaten him to a pulp. Declan knew exactly what he was doing. Scott fell into line with his dad and his sister, and the battle lines had been drawn.

  ‘You said you had to go the other night, Mum, so you should go,’ Scott said, ‘but wherever you end up, we’re fine here with our dad.’

  Lily looked into her husband’s eyes and they were cold, betraying no feeling, but his lip curled slightly to signal his smug satisfaction. Even if she couldn’t bear to tell her children their father was a rapist, she could have said that he was a liar and that she was leaving because he was a bully, a manipulator, a paranoid control freak who had mentally abused her for years but she didn’t. They had already been led to believe that she was some kind of whore who had chosen to run off with another man. Showing them the pictures – although they were innocent they looked incriminating – was only a small example of what he was capable of. Although her children were staring at her with anger and hatred in their eyes, she refused to fight or plead her case. She would not sink to his level. She would not damage her kids.

  This was only the start. He would use the kids, tell them any tale to ensure they stayed by his side. He’d focus all his energy on guaranteeing they felt his pain and pitied him for it, as she had done for so many years. He would try to make it impossible for her to leave him, but she couldn’t stay. She was leaving her children with a wolf and there was nothing she could do but wait, bide her time, let them know how much she loved them and that she was sorry for putting herself first but she had to before it was too late. She decided that she would get them back. They had been raised by her to recognize real love, and even if she’d spoilt them a little, they were good kids who would forgive her.

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘I understand. I just want you to know that I love you both and I’ll always be there for you.’

  Clooney stood on guard while she filled three cases with everything she owned. She didn’t take the jewellery: she left it all, except a few strings of beads that Daisy had made for her in art class. One case was filled with photo albums and the old shoebox with Eve’s letters and photos. She was packed and ready to go within twenty minutes of arriving. The kids stayed in the kitchen with their father and she left without saying goodbye.

  She didn’t see Declan smashing his cup into the sink and storming upstairs to his room. She didn’t see Daisy’s tears and Scott reaching for his little sister’s hand. She didn’t witness her son grow up in that moment: he had instinctively realized that he was his mother’s replacement and stepped up to the role she’d vacated. He could rely on all the rainy afternoons when she’d taught him to cook – he’d been young and curious and liked to spend time with his mother. She didn’t see him get his sister up in the mornings and make sure his dad’s dry-cleaning was dropped off and collected on the way to and from his granddad’s garage. She didn’t hear Declan venting at his kids when he was feeling so sorry for himself that he had to share his pain. She didn’t hear the ugly things he said, blaming them for their mother leaving with another man.

  ‘If you were better kids, brighter …’

  ‘If you weren’t such smart mouths …’

  ‘If you didn’t play that stupid piano every night, noon and morning …’

  ‘If you weren’t such a bloody disappointment …’

  She lay awake alone in Eve’s bedroom, those first few nights, wondering what their lives would be like without her, and how long it would be before they’d allow her to try to make it all better. I’ve got to make it all better.

  After that first day and night when she and Clooney had lain together, they separated. He allowed her space to heal mentally and physically. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt, pressure or frighten her. She was experiencing a special kind of anguish reserved for mothers separated from their children. He’d seen it many times before and for many different reasons but the look was always the same. There was resignation and guilt in her eyes. Those first few days she kept to herself, save for mealtimes, when he made sure she sat down at a table and ate. She needed to fight her demons and he stood back, waiting till she’d won.

  Eve was not so patient. She had been in hospital for nine weeks and she was more than ready to l
eave. She was bored and restless and, although she was still weak, the physiotherapists had done a good job at getting her semi-mobile. She walked with great difficulty, her shoulder was still painful, and she suffered muscle wastage on both legs and her left arm, but she could afford to have a physio appointment at home every day. Adam had confirmed that she wouldn’t need a second operation on her shoulder, and she had two people waiting to care for her when she got home.

  Adam had broken the news to her that Lily had left Declan – Declan had timed his attack for the last day of Lily’s working week, so Eve hadn’t suspected anything was wrong, even when Clooney hadn’t turned up. She’d thought he was taking a day off and maybe helping Paul, who was overwhelmed with the list of wedding tasks Simone had assigned to him before she’d returned to London for an early hen party with her model friends. Paul and she had decided on a small non-religious ceremony in the function room at the Atlantic Coast Hotel and Spa in Westport. The service would be conducted by a woman, and dinner would be served in the Blue Wave restaurant followed by drinks and dancing in the Fishworks Bar and Café. A bus would take hardened drinkers and partygoers to Matt Molloy’s Bar for a late-night traditional Irish session.

  ‘Why Westport?’ Eve had asked him.

  ‘It’ll annoy my mother.’

  ‘The non-religious ceremony?’

  ‘The same reason.’

  She was happy that he was pleased to piss his mother off. She had never warmed to the woman. He’d picked that hotel, he told her, because they had spent a weekend there when he’d first started seeing Simone and they had gone back every couple of months since. The spa was run by an ayurvedic doctor, Dr Thomas. He could diagnose and treat conditions with hot oils, massage, individual dietary and lifestyle recommendations to promote healing, balance and good health.

  ‘It’s about what you eat and when you eat it,’ Paul said. ‘It’s all about the vata, pitta and kapha.’

  ‘The what, the what and the what?’ she asked.