‘Now?’
I’m afraid to even think it, let alone say it out loud. I feel like my throat is closing. ‘What if he’s done something stupid, John? I don’t know. I have a bad feeling. The way he was talking yesterday …’
He sticks a hand in his trousers pocket and pulls out his keys. ‘I’ve Daddy’s car,’ he says.
‘Have you not had a drink?’
‘I was afraid to before the speech.’
We lock eyes. ‘Are you sure?’
He nods. ‘We’ll be back before they even miss us. And if we’re not, they can just … wait.’
The swinging kitchen doors are just feet away from us, so I put my eyes down, grab John’s arm and we speed walk towards them. We make it, dodge through the kitchen and leg it out the back entrance just as Lisa Gleeson comes sprinting after us. ‘Where are ye going?’
‘We’re just going to get something. We won’t be long. Stall for us, will you, Lees?’
‘Which way?’ John asks when we pull up to the front gates of the Ard Rí. ‘Left or right, Ais? Come on!’
‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ I say, raking my hands through my hair. It doesn’t give an inch. Sharon really is at the top of her game. Where could he be? Should we go straight to the garda station in Knock? To the County General? Think Aisling, think!
A BMW pulls up behind us and flashes its lights.
‘For feck’s sake. Left,’ I mutter, and we go screeching off.
‘Where are we going?’ John asks, putting his foot down as fields and ditches fly by.
‘I don’t know. Let me think for a minute.’
Most of the lads Paul was pally with ended up going to Australia around the same time, so it’s not like there’s a friend in the village he could be with. And all the Rangers lads are back in the Ard Rí. John really is his only pal here. How could I be so oblivious?
We’re booting down the Ballygobbard Road now and the crossroads is about two miles straight ahead. On the left is the new sign Mammy and Constance had done for the eco farm. It’s massive – so big that three complaints were lodged anonymously at the county council suggesting it should have required planning permission. ‘ShayMar Eco Farm and Yurt Resort, next left, 10km. Come pet a lamb!’ it says in three-foot letters.
I turn to John just as we get to the cross. ‘Right! Go right here! I think I know where he might be!’
The car hasn’t even come to a full stop when I bail out the passenger door and run, holding up my dress in case it slows me down. I turn around and John is running too. Please be here. Please be here. Please be here. And that’s when I stumble on a rock.
‘Shite,’ I groan. ‘These bloody heels!’
‘Are you okay?’ John pants as he reaches me but I wave him on.
‘Keep going, keep going,’ I shout. ‘We’ve wasted enough time as it is.’
John runs off and I tentatively put weight on my left ankle. I think I’ve done one of those twists that makes you feel for about four minutes like you’ve broken it, but then it goes back to normal and you’re mortified that you made such a scene. I just need to walk it off. I limp on until I get to the gate, which is still open from when John barrelled through it just a minute ago. I take a breath and keep going, teeth gritted, holding the wall for support.
When I see him the relief floods through me so much so that my body starts to convulse and I think I might puke. Instead I cry. Big fat tears. I cry because I’m happy and I cry because I’m sad. And I cry because I don’t know what else to do. I’m wrung out. There’s Paul sitting cross-legged at the bottom of Daddy’s grave, with John on his hunkers beside him, a hand on his back. I’ve never been so happy to see the back of his head in my life.
‘You inconsiderate little shite,’ I roar across the graveyard.
Paul turns around and clocks me then puts his head back down. John is talking in his ear but they’re so far away I can’t make out what they’re saying.
When I eventually get to the grave, I plonk myself down on the other side of Paul, and the three of us sit in a row, side by side, staring at the headstone. It needs a good wipe down. Bloody birds.
‘You can’t just do that, Paul,’ I say softly. ‘Not when you’ve been so out of sorts. It was scary.’ My voice starts to wobble but I keep going. ‘You had me … had me … thinking the worst after what you said yesterday.’
‘Ah, Ais. I was only talking about going back to Melbourne. I’m going out of my mind here. And you’re so busy and important and making something of yourself. I just feel a bit spare.’
Jesus, if only he knew how spare I feel sometimes. And busy and important is one thing, but so is family and talking and, I don’t know, just taking it easy.
‘John told me about Hannah,’ I tell him gently. ‘I know you’re upset and I understand, really I do. And I’m here if you want to talk about it. Any time.’
‘You don’t understand at all really, though, Aisling.’ His tone is sharper now. ‘Daddy had just died. I was ten thousand miles from home and not taking it well, if I’m being honest. She knew that. She knew I needed her and she just dumped me like I was nothing. And now she’s going out with someone else? Fuck that.’
‘People break up,’ I say gently. ‘Life goes on. People move on.’ The words hang in the air and it’s so quiet I can hear the Daniel Wellington ticking on my wrist.
‘Listen to me, lad,’ John says. ‘You can’t keep blaming Hannah. It wasn’t her job to fix you, or to mind you, or to stay with you because she felt sorry for you. Sure, neither of you could be happy carrying on like that. And anyway, you deserve better for yourself. You nearly made the senior team – there’s plenty of girls around here that haven’t forgotten that.’
Since when did John get so wise? He’s right too, of course. I can understand how trapped Hannah felt, knowing Paul’s happiness all hinged on her, especially since he was away from home, afraid of what might happen if she changed her mind. It’s a lot of pressure on one person. Maybe I’ll send her a message on Facebook. She really did seem very nice.
‘And another thing,’ John continues earnestly, ‘it’s okay to admit you want to talk or that you need help. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours with Pablo and his two brothers and, Jesus, but they’re not afraid to cry, and you know what? They’re all the better for it too, mentally speaking.’
‘Would you think about maybe going to see Dr Maher?’ I suggest, adjusting my legs, which are both fast asleep. I have no idea how I’ll ever get up. ‘Just for a chat. I don’t know. It might make you feel a bit better.’
Paul nods. ‘Yeah, maybe I will.’
‘Good lad.’
‘And you won’t go missing again?’
‘I wasn’t missing, Aisling. I was here. Filling him in on my news, that’s all. I had a lot to say. It’s been a while.’
And then he starts to cry. I put my arm around him, accidentally meeting John’s, and we both recoil like we’ve been given an electric shock.
After a minute Paul’s shoulders stop shuddering and he sighs deeply. ‘Hey,’ he sniffs, ‘does the Ard Rí still do that Tayto-sandwich buffet?’
‘There’d be a riot if they stopped,’ John says. ‘I’d lead the charge myself.’
‘I’d be right behind you,’ I add.
‘We should probably head so,’ Paul says quietly.
‘You could say that,’ John says with a grimace. ‘’Mon Aisling,’ he says, helping me up.
The three of us are heading for where John abandoned the car when he puts an arm out to slow me down, letting Paul go ahead.
Christ, what now?
‘Ais, before we head on.’ His voice is low. ‘I just wanted to say that I’m glad we never fell out, you know? After the break-up. And I think what you’ve done with your café and everything … it’s deadly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but you’re some woman. And all that stuff I was saying to Paul, about minding yourself. I hope you were listening?’
I was listening.
I was hanging on his every word. Because I suddenly realise that John could be reading the phone book and I’d still be mesmerised.
‘Lads,’ Paul shouts before I can get a chance to respond. ‘Will you get a move on?’
‘Majella is going to have a conniption,’ I whisper when we’re all in the car. ‘She’s never going to forgive me for this.’
‘I’m in the same boat with Pablo.’
‘How can we make it up to them?’
‘I don’t think we can. This is their wedding. Weddings are a big deal, or so I’m told.’ He glances over at me, smiling, and is just pulling out onto the road when I remember what Lisa Gleeson said about the Love Hurts singer.
‘Turn right.’
‘But the Ard Rí is left?’
‘I have an idea.’
47
‘Sadhbh, Sadhbhy, hiya, can you talk?’
‘Oh God, yes please.’ She sounds so thankful on the phone. I thought she’d be up the walls with craic. Literally.
‘I need a favour. The biggest favour I’ve ever asked of you.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m outside Garbally. Can you come and get me?’
I tried to get in using the pass Mandy had given me but apparently it expired at midday. Sadhbh is my plan B.
‘I can try. Why aren’t you at Majella’s wedding?’
‘I’ll explain. Just come and get me. Use Don if you have to. Or get Emilia. She knows me, kind of.’
‘Okay, I’ll try.’
We sit at the gate for what seems like an eternity when suddenly there’s a buzz on the security guard’s radio and he listens, nods twice and then leans down to the car window. ‘In you go.’
I squeal as the gate opens and John moves slowly up the driveway towards the main entrance while Paul sits in the back looking completely baffled. Another security guard tells us to follow the ‘valet’ sign and we do, pulling up to a very familiar face: Eamon Filan, of Filan’s shop, garage and everything else in between.
‘Aisling, John, Paul,’ he says, as if seeing the three of us at this Hollywood wedding is the most natural thing in the world. ‘Fine evening for it.’
‘Wasn’t expecting to see you here, Eamon,’ I say.
‘Ah, I couldn’t tell anyone. Signed what they call in the business a non-disclosure agreement.’
Who didn’t? ‘Oh, I see.’
‘Hop out there now and I’ll park it for you.’
We do as we’re told and walk along a beautifully lit walkway towards the main entrance and my teeth start to chatter with nerves. What am I at? Walking into this … whatever it is I’m about to walk into. My relief when I see Sadhbh skipping towards the entrance is such that I have to grip John’s arm. Is she? Yes she is. She’s changed into cycling shorts and a blazer. And there was me fretting about the green dress.
‘What are you guys doing here? What’s going on?’ she demands after a quick hug.
‘There’s been a disaster with Majella’s band. The singer broke his wrist in a “Rock the Boat” accident.’ Sadhbh giggles and I don’t even take the time to shush her, even though we all know the dangers that come with ‘Rock the Boat’. I take a deep breath. ‘Do you think there’s any way The Peigs would be able to come down, even for an hour? I’m in such bad books with Majella – I’ll explain all that later. But is there any way do you think?’
Sadhbh looks behind her and shrugs. ‘Ordinarily I would have said no, but this wedding is so dull. Like, catastrophically dull. I was about to sneak out myself. I’m dying to give Maj a proper squeeze.’
‘Really?’ I say, craning my neck towards where I presume the action is happening. I can hear some tinkly piano music but that’s about it.
‘It’s just a weird mix of kinda stuffy movie execs and lots of really old people, friends of Emilia’s granny. They’ll all be in bed by eleven.’
‘But what about Emilia and Ben’s friends?’
‘Oh, they’re here. But the atmosphere isn’t. Everyone’s afraid to touch anything.’ She gestures towards an admittedly terrifying piece of sculpture made of glass and what appear to be spears near us in the lobby. ‘There’s just no craic.’
No craic at a wedding. The greatest of all insults. Just then another familiar face rounds the corner. Mikey Maguire. In a black shirt and trousers and a barman’s apron.
‘Ah, hello, Aisling.’
‘Mikey. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.’
‘Likewise.’
‘Are you working or …?’
‘Indeed and I am. My services were engaged for the weekend, in fact.’
‘I thought you were refurbishing the pub last night?’
‘Eh, no.’ He has the good grace to look ashamed. ‘We hosted a small party for young Miss Coburn and her friends.’
‘And let me guess, you signed an NDA?’
‘Months ago. I kept the biggest secret in Ballygobbard.’
I nod knowingly while Sadhbh whispers, ‘Let me go and find Don.’
‘Can I come in for a look?’ Paul asks with a small grin, and I swear it’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in weeks.
‘Why not?’ Sadhbh replies, and the pair speed walk off.
John and I stand there like spares, and what he said to me back at the grave is swirling around in my head, and so is him asking if James was looking after me when I saw him at Mammy’s that time. So I just go for it.
‘John?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Why did you and James fight at Pablo’s stag?’
He scuffs his shoes on the marble floor and says nothing.
‘You don’t have to tell me, but I just keep imagining awful things –’
‘It was the scarecrow.’
‘Sorry, what?’ I splutter.
‘The scarecrow. That your mother asked me to make.’
‘She asked James to make it, though.’
‘She asked me first. Then she came back to me and said James would do it instead. But I had it pretty much done at that stage so I …’ He looks ashamed. ‘I went ahead and put it up for her anyway.’
‘Oh, I see. And then James …’
‘Yep, he was making one too, so there was a row about it.’
I can kind of see why neither of them wanted to tell me about it. Fighting over a scarecrow is neither of their finest hours.
‘Is that what you were collecting that time I saw you at the house?’
‘Yep.’
‘And it’s James’s scarecrow that’s up there now?’
‘I guess so.’
I burst out laughing. I just can’t help it. All that over a scarecrow? James had a black eye! John looks at me suspiciously for a second and then he starts laughing and suddenly the two of us are creasing ourselves, our roars echoing around the foyer.
Why didn’t Mammy tell me? Did I make her feel so bad about the whole John and James situation that she felt she couldn’t? And her making up lies about William Foley worried John was stealing his farm job. What a silly mess. And yet my heart is warmed by both of them – James wanting to do something for Mammy and John refusing to give up his tie to her.
‘Well, thanks for making her that scarecrow,’ I say softly and he lifts his big kind eyes up to meet mine and for a second I think he’s going to –
‘Aisling!’ It’s Sadhbh, skidding back across the tiles in her high heels and Lycra with Paul hot on her heels, a bottle of champagne in each hand. ‘Head back to the Ard Rí. We’ll be right behind you.’
48
‘I’ve seen some effort go into getting out of things – I’ve put a lot of that kind of effort in myself – but to actually leave my wedding to avoid doing your speech? Wow.’
Majella isn’t really that angry. I had relayed more or less what had happened with Paul to Sharon on the phone when we were on the way to Garbally and she had passed on the message to the top table. I don’t know how it was explained to the rest of the wedding, but I find James’s face in the crowd and he looks hur
t. I don’t blame him. I should have asked him to help me find Paul, not left him in a room of people he barely knows. What does it say about us that I didn’t even think about turning to him for help? He looks done. I don’t blame him for that either. I think I’m done too. What John said to Paul in the graveyard is still in the back of my mind – it’s not my job to fix James or be the antidote to his family problems. I can’t be everything to everyone, as much as I’d like to be.
I spent the drive back to the Ard Rí with John in contented silence. It just felt right. And I know James is here and Megan is here but I feel open. Open to whatever happens. I feel at peace for the first time in ages.
‘I have a surprise coming for you, Maj.’ I smile at her and she looks at me quizzically just as there’s a loud hooting of a horn from the front of the hotel.
Lisa Gleeson runs into the ballroom, flushed and shouting. ‘It’s a bus full of Peigs!’
‘Oh my God,’ roars Majella, and she gathers up her skirt and races out to the lobby, where Sadhbh meets her in a huge hug. I run out too and see Don and the lads and Paul and about ten strangers unloading from a Timoney’s minibus.
Don clocks me and gives me a hug. ‘Sorry we’re so late.’
‘Better late than never! Where did you get the bus?’
‘Oh, he was just outside Ben and Emilia’s wedding waiting to ferry people to wherever they’re staying. Everyone is so spread out. Did I hear David Tennant saying he has a room with an Indian family?’
‘Must be the Singhs,’ I say, nodding. ‘He’ll get a great breakfast there.’
I look up at Tony Timoney sitting in the driver’s seat of the minibus and nod. ‘Let me guess – an NDA?’
‘The very one, Aisling. Now, I’d better go back for the rest of them.’
I go back into the lobby and catch Sadhbh’s elbow. ‘There’s more coming? Who are the stragglers?’
Once, Twice, Three Times an Aisling Page 31
