In Pursuit of Happiness
Page 23
‘I think karma is already catching up with him and teaching him a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry,’ Jo said, her anger having made way for extreme disappointment that he wasn’t even half the man she thought he was.
‘Good, he deserves it. And you deserve good karma and maybe that comes in the form of young Lorcan. I mean, sometimes people meet the one while they’re on the rebound…’
‘Mum,’ Jo said. ‘Will you stop it?’
‘I’m just saying, he doesn’t look at you the way someone on the rebound looks at someone,’ her mother remarked.
‘Oh God. You’ve met him once, for five minutes, and you’re able to ascertain that from him?’
‘Sometimes you don’t need more than a minute to see the truth of what is going on in someone’s head. This is the guy you hung out with last week, isn’t it? Harry’s grandson?’
Jo nodded.
‘On those days, when you came home, you had a spring in your step. You seemed happier.’
Jo couldn’t deny that she had had both a spring in her step and had enjoyed her days with Lorcan. But then they had fallen out and he had been an arsehole, and she had done her fair share of being an arsehole too. But that was all a big misunderstanding. Even so, she reminded herself, it didn’t change the fact that Lorcan still had a picture of his ex as his screen saver and had clearly been through a lot during their prolonged break-up.
‘It’s not really about how I looked or felt though,’ she told her mother.
‘Maybe not. Well, not entirely anyway. But that look of contentment? You can’t fake that – and he had it in spades. Let me tell you, Jo Campbell, when you meet a man who isn’t afraid to make a complete eejit of himself in public to make a child feel better about themselves, you should do your best to hang on to him.’
Jo went to bed with her mother’s words ringing in her ears. She thought of Lorcan, and how easily he had slipped into silly mode when Clara was around. How he had encouraged Jo to be silly too – to unleash that side of her that maybe had become increasingly sensible. The part of her she thought she’d left in Spain.
She thought of that first day they spent together pretending to be tourists. How they never ran out of things to talk about. She thought of how he was with Paddy, happy to be dragged by the lead by an exuberant dog, but always tender enough to acknowledge Paddy’s need for a scratch, or his lift of a paw. And she thought of how he watched out for her. He didn’t need to do that. He owed her nothing and yet he had laid his life bare for her – revealing some of his most private and painful moments to her. Offering to help with her Ewan-related crisis when he absolutely didn’t have to.
But maybe that was just him. How he was with everyone. Just like his grandad, he went out of his way to help others. Maybe he just wanted to help Jo, nothing more, nothing less. Although that thought made her feel a little sad.
34
While You Were Sleeping
She should’ve been tired, but Jo found herself energised when morning came around. She didn’t question why her mood was so positive, she just allowed herself to enjoy it.
Maybe it was Graham Westbury’s copious praise. Maybe it was her chat with her mother the night before. Maybe it was the way Lorcan had danced with Clara. Maybe it was just that she was incredibly grateful to have the people in her life that she did. True friends who stood by her and were fiercely loyal, who believed in her in a more genuine way than Ewan McLachlan. Maybe it was that she realised they’d always believed in her, even when she hadn’t believed in herself.
Having showered and dressed, Jo sat at the kitchen table and ate toast, washed down with coffee, while Clara dipped soldiers into a soft-boiled egg.
‘This is my most favouritist breakfast,’ Clara declared as a long, gloopy drip of yolk ran from the edge of her piece of toast and landed on her pyjama top.
‘I like that one too. But I also like waffles and syrup with blueberries and raspberries,’ Jo said.
‘And strawberries!’ Clara declared.
‘Yes, of course strawberries! Now, I think we’d both better hurry up and finish or we won’t have time to get dressed and ready.’
Clara nodded, her expression serious. ‘Eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, get dressed, put on your shoes and brush your hair!’
‘Yes, boss,’ Jo said. ‘Thank you for reminding me.’
Her mum’s voice carried in from the hall. ‘Clara, you better tell Jo to be quick or she’ll end up walking you to school wearing just a T-shirt and knickers with a towel wrapped round her head.’
It seemed that the word ‘knickers’ was the most hilarious thing Clara had ever heard and when Jo did in fact go upstairs to pull on a pair of skinny jeans and her red Converse, she could still hear Clara laughing as she repeated ‘knickers’ over and over again.
Days like these were good, Jo thought, and again it crossed her mind how she would miss their morning routine when she found her own place to live. She really should have a good look online to see what was available or she would end up sleeping in a cardboard box in a shop doorway.
With her denim jacket over her arm, and Clara’s school bag checked, they set off, Jo’s mind filled with her requirements for a new abode.
‘Jo,’ Clara said, ‘is Lorcan coming for tea tonight?’
‘I don’t know, sweetheart. He might have plans.’
‘But when I said to him to come tonight, he didn’t say he had plans,’ she said earnestly, ‘so he has to come to tea.’
It crossed Jo’s mind that Lorcan might just have been being polite and didn’t really want to come to dinner with the three Campbell women. ‘Well, I’ll ask him and see what he says,’ Jo offered. ‘But he is a very busy man.’
Clara considered this for a moment. ‘Well, don’t forget to tell him that Mammy makes yummy dinners. And on Tuesdays we have ice cream for dessert and then maybe he won’t be too busy.’
‘I won’t,’ Jo smiled.
‘I like him,’ Clara said, with such an air of authority about her that it was clear she had given this a lot of thought.
‘Well, as it happens, I like him too. He’s a nice friend.’
‘He might be a nice boyfriend maybe,’ Clara said, faux innocently, and Jo laughed. She was totally being set up by a six-year-old.
‘He might be,’ she agreed. ‘But we’re just ordinary friends for now.’
‘So it might change?’ Clara asked as they walked through the school gates.
‘It might,’ she conceded because it was easier than explaining the concept of rebound relationships and trust issues to a six-year-old. Her answer made Clara grin from ear to ear and she skipped happily into school, leaving Jo thinking that it would be wonderful to see the world the way a child sees it. Even with her own take on things, Clara still saw hope and easy answers everywhere. That seemed so appealing.
Lorcan was cleaning the shelves when Jo arrived at Harry’s shop. She didn’t see him at first, only spotting Harry – who was sat on his chair behind the counter flicking through the Derry Journal and commenting on the death notices.
‘Not a lot of deaths this week,’ he said, without even saying hello. ‘People won’t be happy.’
Jo raised an eyebrow.
‘You may well look confused there, young Jo, but believe me, the deaths are a big selling point for these local papers. Sure, us older ones don’t all have that Facebook yoke you all have. For a lot of us, the only way we keep up with what our old friends and neighbours are at is by looking at the Journal.’
‘To see if they’re dead?’ Jo asked, unsure if she had picked Harry up correctly.
‘Exactly. Or if they have people belonging to them who are dead. Sure, then we can go to the wake or the funeral and catch up. It’s not the same for you young ones. You know every detail of everyone’s life. What they’re eating for their dinner. When they give the house a clean or read a book, or buy new underwear. Nothing’s private any more.’
Lorcan stood up then and Jo caught a gli
mpse of him, and the smile on his face which said ‘Grandad’s in great form today. Prepare for one of his big rants’.
And Harry seemed to oblige. ‘The older generation like myself, we know all we need to. We know when people need a good send-off, or maybe when they need help to give their loved ones a good send-off. At our stage of life, that’s what it’s all about. I’d have little to no social life at all if it wasn’t for attending wakes and funerals. It can be some craic at a wake, all the same. Although not as many hand round a wee shot of whisky any more. It was bad enough when people stopped leaving out the wee trays of cigarettes – although I’d given up by then. I used to love getting a good lungful of second-hand smoke at a good wake, although Mary would go mad when I came home smelling of the stuff. But, sure, nowadays, it’s all just sandwiches and pastries and a cup of tea. Not that that’s a bad thing,’ he said, as he paused for air.
Jo glanced to Lorcan to see he was almost helpless with mirth, his grandad’s take on the world being a thing of legend. As much as Jo tried not to laugh, she couldn’t hold in a grin and found herself gurning in an attempt to reconfigure her face into a more suitable ‘I’m listening’ expression.
‘So many people get the sandwiches brought in these days. Those fancy sandwiches, you know? With “leaves” instead of a good old-fashioned piece of lettuce. A bit of Iceberg, or a nice round lettuce is all you need. Not that rocket stuff. Is that the one that looks like stinging needles? Sure, it doesn’t matter. It should go back to simpler times, a plate of tomato sandwiches, ham sandwiches, and egg and onion. I remember using my mother’s big mixing bowl to mash up two dozen eggs at the one time. The smell, dear God, it was like something had died.’
With that, Jo couldn’t hold it any longer and let out a roar of laughter, before she covered her mouth quickly, terrified she had offended Harry.
The old man looked at her as if she’d lost the run of herself, then glanced at Lorcan, who had tears running down his cheeks.
‘What?’ he asked. ‘What did I say?’ It took a moment for the penny to drop. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh, like something had died,’ he said, as his face broke into a wide smile. ‘I suppose I could’ve phrased it better,’ he chuckled.
‘I think you phrased it perfectly,’ Jo said.
‘Me too, Grandad,’ Lorcan chimed in. ‘Don’t ever change!’
‘Ah, you two! You do my heart good, so you do. Great to have you young ones about. And I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you get along. Two of my most favourite people right here, who don’t mind me dropping the occasional clanger,’ Harry said.
‘Sure, you know we love you, Harry,’ Jo replied. ‘Just as you are. You’re welcome to come out with us at any time!’
‘And act the gooseberry? I think not.’ Harry grinned, but a moment of awkwardness passed between Jo and Lorcan, which Harry wasn’t slow in picking up on. ‘Oh, you two, don’t look at me, or each other, like that. I’ve been around a long time and seen enough couples get together and either make it or split and I can see when there’s a spark.’
‘Grandad…’ Lorcan began.
‘Lorcan, son, you can’t be cross with me or tell me off because I’m an old man and my heart isn’t what it used to be. You can’t be upsetting me.’ Harry coughed for dramatic effect and Jo felt herself wishing that she could just turn and walk out without drawing any further attention to herself.
‘Grandad, I’m not cross, and I’m not trying to upset you, but we’ve talked about this,’ Lorcan replied, which shocked Jo. They had talked about this? About Harry’s thoughts about the pair of them? She blushed from the tips of her toes to the hairs on her head, and knew she absolutely did not want this conversation to progress any further.
She gave a delicate cough, just to remind them both she was in the room, and then opted to change the topic. ‘Actually, Harry, I’m just here to see Lorcan about a work thing.’
‘That writer man?’ Harry said, and Jo wondered was there anything that Lorcan and his grandad didn’t talk about.
‘The very one. Are you okay if we have a chat?’
‘Of course I’m okay. As I said, you’re two of my favourite people and if someone is doing wrong by you, Jo, then I absolutely want this young lad of mine here to do what he can to help you out.’
‘She’s quite capable on her own, but I am only too happy to help,’ Lorcan said.
‘Well then, do that, Lorcan, instead of standing here chinwagging. Why don’t you go up and get one of your fancy coffees with Libby and talk it all out?’
‘Are you sure, Grandad? I’m supposed to be doing the heavy lifting for you here today,’ Lorcan said.
‘I never say anything unless I’m sure. I’ll amuse myself here with the paper and one of my not-fancy coffees from that blasted machine!’
Jo smiled. ‘You’re a gentleman, Harry. We can bring you a nice coffee back?’
‘Not at all. But, here, can you give these to Libby for me? I think they’re her favourites.’
He lifted a bag of what appeared to be packets of biscuits and thrust them in Jo’s direction. ‘They’re a little bit past their date, but not much. I’d say they’d be okay for a week or two yet.’
All Jo could do was smile. She doubted Harry would ever change and that wasn’t a bad thing.
35
The Invention of Lying
‘I found some stuff out,’ Lorcan said as they sat in Once Upon A Book drinking coffee. ‘About Ewan. More information about what he has been up to. I know this all feels really horrible now, but I think you might have had a lucky escape,’ Lorcan remarked as he pushed his hair back from his face.
It did indeed feel horrible, but that didn’t stop Jo from being completely intrigued. She wanted to make sure that Ewan could never do to anyone else what he had done to her. She wanted all his dirty little secrets to come out.
‘I did a few basic searches last night,’ Lorcan continued. ‘Remembered some of the forums that we had found some info on before. Unfortunately, a lot of those forums have closed or have gone so quiet they might as well have closed. Thankfully, though, a lot of them have left some sort of digital trail. Now, obviously I was a bit limited because it was via my laptop, using my phone as a hotspot, but I did find some of the posts and reached out to the posters.’
Jo watched him and listened, totally fascinated by how he worked, but also so touched that he had gone to this effort. She loved how his brow crinkled as he tried to explain some details about IP addresses and VPNs and things she couldn’t say she had ever thought about before.
‘I didn’t expect anyone to come back to me at all, never mind so quickly,’ he said. ‘But within an hour, I had an email from a woman who says Ewan “borrowed” heavily from some work she’d shared with him in a one-to-one mentoring session, and had blocked her and cut her off entirely when she questioned him about it.’
Jo shook her head. Ewan was a shit. A really shitty shit at that.
‘This was, like, fifteen years ago and she didn’t have the digital trail people might have now. She had a handwritten manuscript. She hadn’t even typed it up, never mind showed it anyone else or submitted it. She wasn’t able to prove he had used her ideas. The whole thing made her so disillusioned she decided to give up on writing altogether.’
‘No!’ Jo said. ‘She didn’t, did she? That’s awful!’ Jo understood the devastating effect that being used like that could have. And it made her very angry. She just needed to work out what she was going to do about it. Should they go to the press? Tell their story to Twitter? Or just pass all the information on to Graham, and possibly the police?
They were on their second cup of coffee and no further forward when Noah called in, Paddy – the only dog apart from guide dogs allowed in Once Upon A Book – by his side. Jo was so engrossed in her conversation with Lorcan, she didn’t even realise until she felt a cold dog nose nudge her bare forearm.
‘Paddy!’ she exclaimed, as he raised his paw for a shake and his tail wagged
enthusiastically.
‘I’m here too,’ Noah said. ‘Just calling in to see if Libby wants to go for a walk.’
‘Well, I didn’t think he wandered over here on his own,’ Jo teased. ‘I think Libby might be in the stockroom.’
Noah, not ever known for his subtlety, pulled a chair over and sat down beside them both. ‘I sense something serious in the works,’ he said. ‘Is this about McLachlan?’
‘It is,’ Jo replied, sitting back and crossing her legs. ‘Lorcan has uncovered a number of other victims and we’re just trying to figure out what to do next.’
Noah exhaled. ‘We could set Paddy here on him.’
Jo looked down to where Paddy lay placidly on the ground as he licked his front paws. Unless Ewan McLachlan had a fear of dogs licking him to death, that didn’t really work as a threat.
‘We’re thinking of taking the information to the press, or the police,’ she said. ‘Or at least contact the other women and chat to them about it.’
‘I have some names that haven’t been mentioned on Twitter yet. This is bigger than we could’ve thought and we want to make sure he never does this again to anyone else,’ Lorcan added, and Jo nodded.
‘And then I want to keep on writing, my own stories, and become successful enough to stick two fingers up to him,’ she said.
‘I like your fighting attitude,’ Noah said. ‘And we’ll do whatever we can to help.’
‘The best revenge is a life well lived,’ Jo said, ‘but I think I’d quite enjoy the second-best revenge too, which is to make sure he doesn’t do it again.’
‘Is the third-best revenge giving him a thump? Because I could be tempted with that as well,’ Noah suggested.
Jo laughed.
‘I have to say, sis, you’re handling this a lot better than I would. I would be so angry and hurt.’