Rain Falls on Everyone

by Rain Falls on Everyone (retail) (epub)

  “So, how are you filling your days, Theo? Now that you’re no longer living the high life at The Deep?”

  He came to her and wrapped his arms around her. She was surprised and it took a second for her to lift her arms and hug him back. But then she did so happily, recognising her own need in some self-conscious corner of her brain. She hadn’t been held by a man for a while so she gave herself up gratefully to the warmth, the feeling of protection. Then she felt stupid, like some kind of low-rent cougar, so she stood back, laughing to herself and shaking her head. Look at the cut of her; so starved for affection, she was hugging any lad off the street. But she really had missed Theo. They’d had a great time together at work. He took her out of herself with his soft voice that opened all these other windows on the world. She could talk to Theo about everything. He wasn’t family and he wasn’t an old friend forced to see her present through the prism of her past. She was just Deirdre to him, someone he worked with, someone he chatted to. Not Deirdre who’d once been, even if she said so herself, a looker, who married ‘the catch’, who had beautiful children but who ended up like one of those bitter, mutton-dressed-as-lamb Tiffanys or Kellys in some gritty, depressing soap.

  Maybe this was why women her age had affairs. Just to get shot of it all. To drop all the baggage and run down the road, like a child, arms wheeling, nowhere particular to go and no bedtime in sight.

  Of course, she didn’t want an affair with Theo. Her life was screwed up enough as it was and he was young enough to be her son. But she did need him in some way. Isn’t that just the weirdest thing, she thought looking up at him now.

  “I’m keeping busy, Deirdre.” He shrugged his shoulders and then laughed. “Ah, who’m I kidding? That’s not true at all. Sure, I’m doing nothing. Taking some time out, that’s what they say, isn’t it? Though I’m not sure it’s the right… phrase. I don’t know that I had anything really to be taking time out from.”

  They’d started walking, both stepping onto the grass as if obeying some kind of signal, moving away from the road and the paths, the traffic and the people. It was grey and overcast, and Deirdre remembered there was rain forecast. She should’ve brought her umbrella.

  “I’m idling, Deirdre, that’s what it is. And I’ve moved in with my aunt, just in case.”

  He was a little ahead of her thanks to his long stride but she reached forward to put a hand on his arm.

  “What do you mean, ‘just in case’? Do you think Gerrity will come after you now?”

  She pulled him to a stop.

  “And what does that mean for Grace, Theo? Is she in danger?”

  Was this why he’d wanted to meet today? Did he want to warn her? Christ, she thought, I just want this all to be over. I want Neville gone from our lives, I want Grace in college, I want Fergal… But she realised she didn’t know what to do with him. What was the answer there? Would kicking him out solve anything? The thought was like a sudden punch in the gut. She’d never let herself think it before, even in the dark, soundproofed rooms of her head.

  Theo pulled his arm away and put both his hands on her shoulders.

  “It’s alright. They won’t touch Grace. Trust me.” He started walking again.

  There was something in the way he said it. He knows, she thought, hurrying after him. She hadn’t been planning to say anything to Theo about Fergal. No point burdening him with this, and besides, she didn’t know how he would react. On the bus here, she’d reminded herself that she didn’t really know what Theo had done for Gerrity either, apart from what he himself had told her. She didn’t think he was violent but if she could so misjudge her own husband, what else could she be wrong about?

  “Because of Fergal? Is that what you mean?”

  “You know?”

  It was his turn to stop now. If anyone were watching them, she thought, they’d be wondering what kind of fools they were, taking a walk in fits and starts. Theo was staring down at her but it wasn’t just shock. There was wariness there and in the way he’d slammed his hands into his pockets. “I swear I only just found out the other day,” she said quickly, lowering her voice as a middle-aged man jogged past them.

  “I’d no idea, Theo, no idea at all that he was working with Gerrity. And he wasn’t, until he lost his job. It only started then. I still don’t know what exactly Fergal did, to Neville I mean, but I know he was there. Michael told Pauline, his mam. She’s the one I got the number from. She’s Gerrity’s cousin. Shit Theo, I don’t know how all this came together like this. I feel like we’ve been caught in some web that somebody else has been stretching around us all this time and we didn’t know. We were sleeping through it all.”

  Theo had started walking again. They were crossing the grass now in front of the Wellington Monument. Shame you couldn’t go up it. Deirdre felt like things might look clearer up there, she might be able to see a way out. A handful of people were lounging on the steps below the obelisk. A group of lads, all around Conor’s age, were having a kick-around on the grass. Full of piss and vinegar, she thought, with their swagger and absolute certainty that everything was going to be fine, world without end, amen. Fair play to them. There was time enough yet for them to find out.

  They climbed a few steps and sat down. Deirdre looked past the lads playing football, out into the trees as Theo told her how he’d seen Fergal the day he went to get Neville from Gerrity.

  “Have you talked to Fergal? About what happened with Neville?” Theo asked.

  She shook her head. “How would I even start? ‘Hey Fergal, did you hammer a nail through Grace’s boyfriend’s hand the other night by any chance? Ah you did, okay right, just wanted to be sure, like’.”

  She gulped a laugh. She couldn’t help it, and thank god, Theo smiled.

  “I don’t think he knew who Neville was. Before. But he damn well knows now. He knows what happened to Neville. That’s another thing, Theo. He hasn’t said a word. He hasn’t even looked uncomfortable. You’d think he’d feel a need to say something. Or maybe he really thinks he’s the boss and whatever he does is just his own business. It’s like he really doesn’t care any more what we feel or think. What I feel or think.”

  She took a breath. After holding it all in for so long, it felt great, and awful, to let it out. She’d needed to tell someone and she hadn’t wanted to bring it up again with Pauline. It’d just make her friend feel worse than she already did. At the same time, saying all this now, to Theo, meant it really was happening. Things really were falling apart.

  “What’s there to say to him?” she continued. “If he did that, if he really did hurt Neville and wasn’t just hanging around, one of the gang, but even then… Whatever he did, he was there. I feel like I didn’t ever know him at all. I didn’t know he’d end up beating me but this… This is another level entirely. And if I don’t know him, I don’t know if the kids are safe any more. I thought there were limits. I always thought it was just me because of the way I annoyed him, but it’s not just that, is it? I feel like everything has been a lie. What do you do with that?”

  She glanced over at Theo, who was staring down at his hands.

  “Remember, I told you about losing my family in Rwanda. I told you I’d run away with them and then they got lost and they were killed. It’s not really true.”

  He was speaking slowly and he wouldn’t look at her.

  “Or rather it is and it isn’t. We did run away. But then something terrible happened. My father killed a guy who worked on our farm. He was a Tutsi, like my mother. My father was a Hutu but he wasn’t with the others, the ones doing the killing. They were mostly Hutus too but my father didn’t agree with what they were doing. He just wanted to get us all out of there. He was educated. He must’ve known they were talking shite when they said everyone needed to be killed, calling everyone cockroaches and the like. So I don’t know why he killed Shema, that was his name. I can’t really remember all the details of how it happened, or what came next. All I have is this image of my fath
er lifting a machete over his head and Shema lying on the ground, absolutely terrified, and then that’s it. I’m alone and I know everyone’s gone. I don’t know how I knew it but to this day, I remember that awful certainty that there was nobody left. I remember standing there in the dark knowing they were all gone. I thought I knew my father. I mean I was only a child but I knew my father as much as any child does. The father is always the hero, right? And then in one moment, he wasn’t, he was a killer. I wasn’t old enough to understand, never mind put words to what I had seen. Maybe that’s why I only have bits of the thing in my head. How can you remember what you can’t name? But those bits are all I have left now. I can’t go back to the way I thought of him before. I can’t remember anything without knowing what happened after. It’s like having a box of photos that you’ve spilled coffee over. You’ll never be able to clean them. They just have to stay as they are.”

  He pulled out his fags and lit up.

  “So I get what you mean about betrayal and living a lie. It fucks you up.”

  They sat in silence for a while. The lads had tired of the football game and were now sprawled on the grass, sharing a two-litre bottle of coke and bursting into raucous laughter every couple of minutes.

  “Maybe the answer is forgiveness?” Deirdre said, pulling her coat tighter as a gust of wind came bowling round the edges of the obelisk.

  “I’ve no one to forgive,” Theo said.

  “You can still forgive them even if they’re gone. And Theo, memory can be a sneaky liar. If I only trusted my memories, I’d be hard-pressed to find anyone to love. It’s like I can only seem to hold onto the bad stuff. The good stuff doesn’t stick. I’d top myself if I believed my life was just the memories that stick out the most. Jaysus, I’m freezing suddenly. Let’s move again, can we?”

  They got up and headed deeper into the park.

  “I dunno if I can forgive Fergal but maybe I need to try. If I can’t, fair enough, and even if I could, he’d still have to change or he’d be on his own. But maybe if I don’t try, it’ll doom us both,” Deirdre said.

  “You can’t tell Grace, though. She’ll never forgive him,” Theo replied.

  “I know. That’s fine. I don’t hate him enough, even now, to do that. Anyhow, it’s not Grace’s job to save Fergal. She can move on and out and build her own life. I need to save Fergal, that’s my cross to bear. Not that I see myself as a Mother Teresa or anything, God forbid, but I suppose saving him could mean saving me and keeping the family together and holding on to the little we have. I don’t think I can learn to be anything different at this stage, Theo.”

  She paused.

  “You’re a better person than me, then,” Theo said. “I’ll never forgive Fergal or Gerrity or Michael. The whole lot of them. You didn’t see Neville, Deirdre. He’s not right even now. It’s like someone has switched off the lights.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. She felt a right bitch now for bad-mouthing Neville but the past was the past. She discreetly checked her watch. She had to be home soon to get things in order before she headed out to the restaurant to do a couple of hours of washing up. She’d been working a few extra shifts every week since Theo’d left.

  “Listen, Theo, I should probably start making tracks. It’s been lovely to see you.”

  But Theo was staring at his phone. It’d just beeped and as he read the message, his whole body seemed to freeze. She was about to say something but then he looked up. Jesus, he was scared, scared shitless.

  “Yeah, right so. I’ve to go too,” he said, soft as a smothered scream.

  He hugged her again but quickly this time and ran off, heading towards the gate they’d come in, his long legs eating up the grass so that in a few minutes he was lost among the trees.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  He dialled her number. No answer. He kept trying as he ran, his heart thumping, his breath ragged. Just before he got to the park gates, he stopped. Because he didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know what to do. His blood was rushing in his ears. He checked the text again.

  Cara would like to see you. Having a great time with us.

  No caller ID but no matter. It was Gerrity. It had to be. His mind was blank with panic. He started walking again, slower now. He was on Conyngham Road. Left or right? Who could he call?

  There was only one person in the end. One man pulling all the strings.

  “Theo, I thought it might be you.”

  “You bastard, Gerrity. You’ve made a big mistake now. Let her go, or… I swear to God, I’ll end you.”

  “Is that right? I tried to make you see sense, Theo. I told you, you’re either with us or against us, and if you’re against us, this is the kind of thing that is going to happen. Again and again.”

  Theo tried to breathe, tried to think of an argument that could persuade Gerrity. But all he could think of was Cara’s hands wrapped around his and then her hand palm-down on a table under a bright light, and her screaming as a hammer fell. Other images flashed behind his eyes. Broken bodies, split skulls, bloodied arms, Neville. Jesus, no.

  He stopped, leaned against a wall and closed his eyes. He felt dizzy.

  “What d’you want? If I give you what you want, will you let her go?”

  “Depends, Theo. Depends if I can trust you. Are you going to see sense now and fulfil your obligations to us? There are bags here with your name on them and I’ve no one else to sell them right now. I’ve clients telling my crew that they’re waiting for you and they can’t find you. That’s not good business, Theo. And you know me, I’m a businessman to my core.”

  “You are in your hole. You’re a common thug and one day someone will come for you and break you, just like you’ve done.”

  “Big words, Theo. But I think you and me, we’re beyond words now. Action is what’s called for. So, I’ll see you soon? D’you remember that pub in Sandymount, where we met the first time? I’ll be there at 5.”

  He hung up.

  Theo pulled the phone from his ear. It was nearly four now. He could get a bus from D’Olier Street but he’d be cutting it fine. Gerrity probably knew that, knew how long it’d take from this part of town: he wanted to control everything, even time. Theo spun around and clattered into a young lad, spitting apologies over his shoulder as he legged it towards Croppies Acre Memorial Park.

  “Watch yerself, ye shaggin’ ape,” the lad shouted at him. “Why don’t you go back home to the jungle?”

  If only I had time, Theo thought. With the rage on him, the young lad would’ve ended up in the river.

  He’d one thought as he rushed down the street: “I have to get Cara. And then we are getting the hell out.” He’d no idea how to do either but the words echoed in his head so that he couldn’t think of anything else. He weaved through the people sauntering along the river, all taking their sweet time to meander through their normal lives. Lucky bastards. I’ll never have it, he thought. I’ll never have that ease. The comfort of knowing that life is going to be fine, a few ups and downs maybe but overall pretty fine. I’ll always be running from something. And I’ll never get away.

  On the bus, he sat hunched by a window, twisting his phone round and round in his hands. What would he do if they hurt her? He knew he should come up with a plan but his brain was like a broken record, stuck on that question. It was as though it offered some kind of protection. If he thought there was still a chance they wouldn’t touch her, then they wouldn’t. It was like praying for a miracle. You were always really praying to yourself, willing yourself to believe there was a chance so you could keep going. Fuck, why hadn’t he got a gun? He’d shoot Gerrity in the blink of an eye now. Then he remembered Ronan. Would he know they’d taken his sister? Theo dialled. No answer. He closed his eyes as the dial tone rang out. Leave a message? What could he say? What could that eejit do in the end? He’d never even met Gerrity, didn’t know him from Adam. And there was no time to get a gun. The clock had run all the way down.

  Gerrity w
as sitting in the back of the pub, at the same table where they’d met all those months ago. Same smug gob, same stupid smile. Theo stormed across the wooden floor, slamming into the empty tables and chairs, his fists balling. But then he got to Gerrity and he knew there was nothing to do. Gerrity might be sitting alone but his lads would be nearby. If Theo so much as raised a finger to him, he wouldn’t make it out the door again so he stood there, arms held out uselessly from his sides, feeling like a plank.

  “Where is she?”

  “Take a seat, Theo. Let’s be civilised. No need to be rushing. Nothing’s going to happen to the wee lass, what’s her name again? Ah yes, Cara. Don’t suppose a lad like you knows what that means, do you?”

  “Dún do chlab,” Theo muttered but he knew there was no way Gerrity was going to shut up. The bastard was loving this.

  His hands felt heavy in his lap. Now that he was here, now that the rush was over, he felt knackered, but more than that. He felt as though his soul had been drained and left wrinkled and parched in front of this man.

  “So you do have your cúpla focal of Irish then. Fair play to you for that. I never liked learning it at school. Dead language for deadbeat people always looking behind them for the glory days.”

  Gerrity took a sip of the pint in front of him. He put the glass down carefully, steepling his hands under his chin.

  “We had to get your attention, Theo. We’re like a family and we don’t like losing a family member. We helped you and you can’t just turn your back on us now because you’re pissed off. It doesn’t work like that. Not in this family. Sure, I hear you’re an orphan so maybe you didn’t realise. I want to make it all very clear to you now so we don’t have any more of these unpleasant misunderstandings.”

  The bastard had all the cards. Maybe Theo had always known, deep down, there was no easy way out of Gerrity’s world. Life wasn’t a series of doors, leading to ever more interesting rooms. You stayed in the same room but it got bigger and fuller and sometimes, if you were lucky, you could hide behind the furniture for a while. But you were still in the same feckin’ room.