by Anita Notaro
Niall looked puzzled for a while, before the penny dropped. ‘That’s Talent!? You’re doing it? Well done, Antonia.’ He sounded so genuinely delighted for me that I felt a surge of warmth towards him. ‘That takes guts,’ he added.
‘Thanks.’ I blushed, thinking of the rehearsals earlier that morning at Celtic TV. The lights in the rehearsal studio had been pretty hot, but somehow I’d managed to keep the nerves under control and just pretend that I was in command of things. ‘Fake it till you make it,’ as Amanda had said the previous week. And it had worked, helped by the band, who were amazingly friendly.
‘All set, Antonia?’ Bill, the band leader had said, before the pianist played the opening chords to the song and I took a deep breath. And then I was away, the words of ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ coming out of my mouth, flowing out as the sound of the orchestra built up behind me. And that was it, then. The song ended and there was a silence, before the violinists began tapping their strings. They’re warming up for the next act, I’d told myself, replacing the microphone in the stand and muttering, ‘Thanks.’
‘They’re applauding you, Toni,’ Karen had come over to me, a set of earphones on her head, a clipboard in her hand. Bill had nodded his head in approval and given me the thumbs up, and I’d blushed. ‘That will simply blow the judges away on Saturday. I can’t wait.’ Karen had clasped her hands together like a girl.
I’d blushed again, wishing for the hundredth time that I didn’t keep going red every time someone spoke to me. ‘Thanks.’ And even though I knew that Karen probably said this to all the contestants, it sure felt good to hear it. It’s funny how some small remark can change your day. Karen’s praise had me floating on a cloud, unable to believe how much I’d enjoyed myself. And the nerves had just faded away. For a short while I forgot everything, including my date with Niall, until there he was, standing in front of me. It was probably just as well – I’d have worked myself up into a complete state about it otherwise.
‘You look as if you’re ready for anything,’ I joked, nodding at Niall’s walking gear.
He smiled and looked down at his boots, and I noticed again the way his hair was thinning just a bit at the top of his head. Maybe he was older than I’d thought. ‘Well, I like to go walking whenever I get the chance. I thought we might go to Powerscourt and look at the waterfall,’ he said.
‘Sure, that sounds great. I’ll just dig out my own boots, and we’ll be all set.’ I turned to go into the hall, ‘C’mon in,’ I added.
‘Thanks.’ He looked embarrassed for a moment, before stepping over the threshold, bending slightly as he walked through the front door, which made me realize just how tall he was. ‘You have a pair of boots, then?’
‘You sound surprised.’ I laughed.
‘Well, I don’t know you that well …’
‘But you wouldn’t put me down as an outdoor girl?’ As I spoke, I thought how funny it was that I could talk to Niall like this. Like I was confident. Maybe it was the new haircut, I thought. That and the shopping trip, and the talent show. It seemed as if, after all this time, I was changing, and the feeling was … strange, somehow, unfamiliar, and yet not unpleasant.
‘Well …’ He looked sheepish.
‘My dad loved hiking. I used to go for walks with him on a Sunday morning after Mass. I only gave up when Mum got ill, really.’ I had turned my back to him and was rummaging around in the cupboard under the stairs.
‘How long ago did your dad die?’ I couldn’t see him, but his voice was soft.
I turned to face him, standing up, a pair of hiking boots in my hand. ‘Ten years ago,’ I said. ‘I can hardly believe it, really, that both of them are gone.’
‘That’s tough, Antonia. I’m sorry.’ He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders in his fleece, but the expression on his face was one of concern, of sympathy.
Don’t, I thought. Don’t feel sorry for me. ‘Niall, that’s life. I was lucky to have them for eighteen years. I have to look at it that way.’ Or else I’d dissolve in a mess of self-pity, I silently added. ‘OK, all set?’ I tried to sound cheery as I tied the laces on my boots.
‘Sure,’ he looked at me steadily, before smiling at me, that smile that changed his tired face entirely. ‘After you.’ He made a motion to usher me through the front door.
‘No, I have to lock up.’ I laughed.
‘Oh, of course,’ he said. Then he walked ahead of me, bowing his head again as he stepped through the doorway. ‘Your car or mine?’
‘Oh, wow,’ I said, when I caught sight of the car. ‘Definitely yours.’ A navy-blue vintage Mercedes, it had soft leather seats and a shiny dashboard made out of walnut. It looked gorgeous.
‘Thanks.’ He laughed. ‘It was a gift from my parents when I graduated from medical school.’
Some gift, I thought, running a hand over the shiny paintwork, thinking of the set of CDs Mum and Dad had bought me when I got my school-leaving exams.
‘I know what you’re thinking, but my uncle owns a garage, and he always has a couple of vintage cars knocking about. We did this up together. Took us the best part of a year.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Hop in.’ He opened the passenger door, then ran around to the driver’s side and jumped in. Even in a car as big as this, his head nearly touched the roof. I had to stifle a smile.
‘What?’ He glanced at me as we pulled out into the road.
‘Nothing. It’s just … you’re very tall.’ As I said it, I blushed and felt a complete fool. God, what was I thinking? I sounded like a five-year-old.
He didn’t seem to mind, just nodding and saying, ‘Yep. It makes reaching the top shelves in supermarkets a cinch. And nobody ever had to pass me the butter at home.’
At home. I realized that I’d never asked him about his family. ‘Do you have many brothers and sisters?’
He paused for a bit, but then he said, ‘Three of each. Big family. I’m the youngest. Dinner times were interesting in our household.’
‘I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a big family.’ I sighed.
‘Noisy.’ Niall laughed. ‘And you have no privacy and nothing belongs to you, but other than that, it’s just fine.’
I smiled. ‘I know what you mean. Even though I’m an only child, when I was in the orphanage, I shared a room with four other girls. We weren’t too strong on privacy,’ I said.
‘That must have been difficult.’ He was trying to be diplomatic.
‘Well, I didn’t know any better, to be honest. And I was never alone.’
‘You don’t like being alone, then?’
I shook my head. ‘No, not really. And yet, it’s funny that I’ve ended up that way. I think maybe when you’re an orphan, you always feel it: the sense that you’re basically alone, do you know what I mean?’ I turned to him, wanting him to understand, unable to believe that I even thought like that, and didn’t mind saying it out loud. ‘No, of course you don’t,’ I added hastily. And then I shrugged and changed the subject. ‘The countryside is so beautiful at this time of year, isn’t it?’
‘Sure is.’ He sounded too enthusiastic, as if he were relieved at the change of topic. But then he added, almost under his breath, ‘But I do know what you mean.’
There was something about the way he said it. I just didn’t want to push, and so I said nothing. The rest of the journey was spent discussing the beauties of Wicklow, the ring of mountains that circled the bay, the soft reds and yellows of the autumn leaves. ‘Not that I get to see much of it,’ Niall said, as we drove through the gates of Powerscourt demesne. ‘I work such long hours. But whenever I get the chance, I visit Gerry and Sally and the kids and go for a good long walk. Lola is a very energetic dog who sometimes drags me up to the top.’ He laughed, pulling into a parking space beneath the sheer green cliffs of the waterfall.
‘Sounds blissful,’ I said, looking up at the cliffs above me and the long stream of water gushing from the top, a torrent
of grey-white crashing against the rocks at the bottom.
‘It is, and the kids are great fun. They love racing up to the top, and trying to pull each other back if one of them gets too far ahead. It’s hilarious.’ He laughed.
‘I know, they’re great kids, aren’t they?’ I said.
‘They are,’ he agreed.
There was a silence again, before I said, ‘I used to mind the babies in the orphanage.’ Why on earth did I say that? I thought, the minute I’d opened my mouth. It was hardly first-date material.
‘Oh?’ I saw a flicker of distress cross his face.
Oh, God, I’m boring him to death, I thought, and I had hastily to add, ‘Oh, no, I loved it, it was my favourite chore. All the other kids hated it because sometimes you had to change nappies and mop up sick. But for me it was heaven, because they always smiled the minute they saw you. I think they were alone for so much of the time,’ I told him.
He nodded silently.
‘It wasn’t neglect, the nuns were great to all of us, it was just that there were so many children. The nuns never stopped working, and they were very kind. They get such bad press, so I always feel I have to tell people that.’ Shut up, Antonia, shut up, I kept telling myself. He doesn’t want to hear this.
Niall was silent for a long time. ‘Was it tough?’ he finally asked.
‘I didn’t know it was tough, and Sister Monica took me under her wing, so I was fine. I suppose what was missing really was one-to-one attention, so that’s where I learned that if you’re quiet and say nothing, you get by far easier. It was only when I came to live with Mum and Dad that I realized that life wasn’t all about a strict regime, rules and bells. Does that make any sense?’
‘Perfect sense.’ The way he said it made me look at him, but he was staring straight ahead, the expression on his face unreadable. Then, suddenly, he reached over and squeezed my hand. And then the moment was broken, as we reached the bottom of the waterfall.
‘Wow, I’d forgotten how spectacular it is.’ I had to raise my voice above the din of the water.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Niall roared back, and we both laughed. ‘C’mon, there’s a nice path around here.’
We spent the next hour walking along the edge of the waterfall, scrambling around on the rocks with all of the children out for walks with their families, listening to them scream and shout as they tried to avoid being splashed by the water. We didn’t say much, just clambered over the mossy rocks, Niall occasionally extending a hand to help me, before we took a steep path which led up the side. I could feel my lungs burning with the effort of the climb as I scrambled along after Niall, who kept up a steady pace, but I wasn’t about to tell him that I hadn’t had this much exercise in a long time. Finally, we reached the top and I leaned over, my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.
‘Sorry, was I going too fast?’
I shook my head, unable to speak, before standing upright to take in the view, which was spectacular, from the Sugar Loaf right out to the sea. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘It is, isn’t it? I often pop up here to take it all in. It’s so peaceful.’
I couldn’t resist a smile. ‘Pop up? The climb nearly killed me,’ I joked. And when he looked at me apologetically, I said, ‘It was worth it, though, for this,’ indicating the view. ‘And I’d forgotten how much I liked walking. It’s so relaxing.’ And I sound like a woman making polite conversation, I thought. I sighed. Why couldn’t I think of something decent to say, something that might show Niall that I might be in the slightest bit interesting? That I was a woman with opinions. Except of course, I wasn’t. Why on earth would he find me interesting, when I had done so little with my life?
‘Penny for them.’ When I looked around, he was watching me, amused.
‘Oh, I was just thinking that I’m probably not the most exciting date you’ve ever had,’ I said.
‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ he said dryly. ‘Now, why don’t you tell me all about That’s Talent!? What made you decide to enter after all?’
‘Well, I thought I had nothing to lose. And I suppose I wanted to prove something to myself: that I could do something that really mattered, you know? Mum was always telling me to use my talent, but I never really did. I told myself that it was because I was too busy looking after her, but it wasn’t really. I was scared, that was the real reason. And I’m still scared, but I have to do it.’
‘Feel the fear and do it anyway,’ Niall said.
I smiled. ‘You’ve read the book, too.’
‘Hah, yeah. You could say that.’ His expression darkened, and I wondered why he’d have needed to read a book like that. But it didn’t seem like the moment to ask. And then he was looking at his watch. ‘I’d better head back down. I’m on at ten tonight, I’m afraid to say. And it’s a Saturday night, so all hell will break loose.’
‘But you love every minute of it,’ I said, and was rewarded with that smile.
‘I do, actually.’
‘What do you do when you’re not working?’ I asked him on the way down.
‘Well, pretty boring stuff. We get so little time off as SHOs that I end up doing a pile of washing or paying bills. But every so often, I get the chance to come up here. And I play the guitar, very badly,’ he said.
‘Oh, really? Maybe you could accompany me on the show.’ I laughed.
‘If you are planning on getting no further than the heats, sure. I do a mean “Hound Dog”.’
‘I don’t think that’s quite what the producers have in mind, but thanks anyway.’
He laughed, and then looked serious for a moment. ‘I really enjoyed this, Antonia,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it again.’
‘Sure,’ I agreed. ‘I’ll be focused on the heats for the next few days, but after that would be great.’
‘The heats, of course,’ he said. ‘Will you have anyone there?’
I couldn’t tell if he was dropping a hint that he wanted to come or not, but I decided to bite the bullet. ‘Apart from the entire village of Glenvara, hardly a soul. Why, would you like to come along?’ Oh, God, here I go again, I thought, sticking my neck out. But he seemed genuinely pleased to be invited.
‘Thanks, Antonia, I’d love to. Won’t wear my scrubs,’ he joked. ‘Or this,’ he nodded, indicating his fleece and walking boots.
‘I’d appreciate that.’ I laughed. ‘Not that I’ll notice, I’ll be so nervous,’ I added, feeling the butterflies in my tummy at the thought of it. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for so long, but now that it’s real, well …’
‘You’ll get through it, Antonia. More than that, you’ll triumph, I know you will. It’s your time to shine. And you’ll feel great that you did it, no matter what the judges say.’
‘I’ll try to bear that in mind,’ I said dryly. Because it was only when Niall said it that I realized how much I wanted to succeed. I didn’t want just to try my best, I wanted to get through to the next round, and my feelings surprised me. ‘I really want this, Niall,’ I blurted.
He put his hand on my arm, and gave it a brief squeeze, and for a moment, all thoughts of the show left my mind. ‘I can see that. I can see how much it matters to you, and that focus will really keep you going. That and knowing that we’re all rooting for you. So next Sunday morning, when we come out here for a walk again, you’ll be well on your way to being a singing star.’
‘A walk?’ I joked. ‘Do you think I’m going to put myself through this again?’ But we both knew that I’d say yes. That I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
13
AND THEN, SUDDENLY, here it was, the day of the first heats of That’s Talent! It had come at last, in spite of my best efforts to slow time down. I was sitting in Mum’s armchair, Colette and Mary fussing around me. ‘We’ll wait until we get to the studio, and talk to the make-up girls then,’ Colette was saying. ‘We don’t want you plastered in slap, even with the studio lighting. They always overdo it on Celtic, and they all look like Kabuki dolls, hones
tly.’ She was standing, hands on hips, in a pair of the skinniest skinny jeans I’d ever seen, a torn T-shirt and a pair of grey suede shoe-boots, looking every inch the rock chick.
‘You should be doing the competition, not me.’ I tried to joke with her, nodding at her clothes. It was hard to talk, though, because of the lump in my throat, which wouldn’t go away.
‘No, I shouldn’t, because I sound like a bag of cats,’ she said crisply. ‘And you sound like an angel. Which is why you are going on That’s Talent! and I’m not. Now, all set?’ she looked at me sharply, and I nodded, unable to speak. Colette had a habit of saying it as she saw it, and I’d had to get used to that, working with her, but I was grateful, because she was the only one who told me the truth, and I knew that I could rely on her.
I let her lead me in my heated rollers to the car, the precious chiffon sequinned dress over her arm, and then we were driving to the studio, a huge cavern of a place. Mary had insisted on taking the morning off work and driving me up, ‘as your personal consultant’, and kept up a stream of chatter in the car, which saved me having to reply, I suppose.
‘Will the others all be there?’ she asked me, and I nodded, thinking of my motley bunch of supporters. Eithne and Billy from the choir, of course, and Betty, because she’d been like a mother to me for the last six weeks.
Sister Monica said she wouldn’t miss it for the world. ‘I love That’s Talent!,’ she’d said when I’d called to invite her. ‘Although you’d want to watch out for that Maurice Prendergast, he’s very tough on the contestants.’
I hadn’t a clue who Maurice Prendergast was. One of the judges, I supposed. ‘Well, you know more about it than I do,’ I had to admit.
‘Maybe. I watch it every Saturday night along with the rest of the country. But the thing is, we’re only the viewers, not performers,’ she insisted. ‘What matters is that you show them just how talented you are. And you’ll melt their hearts, Antonia, I know you will.’
