I relax again. Simon is cool. Any pressure I felt for that moment has passed.
‘I can’t wait to hear about her too,’ I tell him and I really do mean it.
I am in Flo’s kitchen, freshly applied au natural look make-up on my face and rollers in my hair. Yes, rollers. Not the little-old-lady type but the big giant ones that promise volume and lift to my long hair, which is in need of some TLC. Flo is tweaking and checking the rollers as Billie vies for my attention, wriggling like a worm to get up on my knee and then immediately wanting to get back down again. He then ditches me for Peppa Pig.
Story of my life, being ditched for a pig – so no surprise there…
‘So let’s go over this all again,’ says Flo. She is beginning to sound like my mother.
‘Honestly, Flo, there really is no need. It’s not like this is some dodgy online date, you know,’ I retort. ‘You are being over-protective.’
‘I am not being over-protective. I am being sensible and wise,’ she says, undoing one of the rollers and then putting it back in its place. ‘Now, the signal is, you tweak your right earring if you need help and I will call your phone.’
‘Who said I was going to wear earrings?’
‘You always wear earrings. That way, you can make an excuse and go outside to take the call if you think he is a nutcase and I will follow you out and make up an escape plan.’
She is beginning to sound ridiculous.
‘Flo! Simon is not a nutcase! He is the same as me in this whole situation,’ I explain, picking a sticky stray Cheerio courtesy of Billie from the edge of my jeans. ‘He just wants some closure and, on top of it all, he seems really nice, so there is no need for you to come along and sit at another table in the bar like some undercover detective. And besides, what will you do with Billie? There is no way he will sit for any length of time in a public place and he will probably make it clear that he knows me.’
Billie gives me a knowing look. He goes bananas when he hears my voice on the phone and is always hyper at first sight. I guess that’s something to do with the treats and toys I brought for him, but as his godmother I believe that is my duty.
Flo rolls her eyes. There is no way I am putting her off.
‘Billie is going to Ursula’s for the afternoon. You know, Jack’s mum from the mother-and-toddler group? We take turns when things come up to arrange a quick playdate to allow us both the odd hour off here and there out of daycare hours. I don’t know what I would do without her.’
Now it is my turn to roll my eyes. I have heard it all now. A play date.
‘So you mean, Ursula is going to babysit for a while at her place? Why didn’t you just say that? What’s with all these fancy ‘new-age mummy’ terms? What is happening to you?’
Flo laughs. She knows I have a point. It’s the type of thing the two of us would have sneered at before Billie came along, only because we were secretly jealous, of course, and would love to be in the whole baby club. Now she is in that club up to her neck, though it’s not exactly how she had planned it.
‘Oh your day will come, Miss Power Suit,’ she tells me. ‘I bet you will be making up your own terms for mummy issues when you have a little ankle-biter. Now, let me see you.’
She has unravelled all the rollers and, I have to say, she has done a great job on my hair and my make-up is so subtle and effortless, which is exactly what I wanted for today. For the last ten years of her career, Flo was one of the city’s most sought-after top stylists and beauticians, but had to work part time from home when little Billie came along and the aptly named Damien (think The Omen) she made him with did a runner. It’s how I met her. She cut my hair for my job interview at Powers and we have been best friends ever since.
‘Oh you’re a star,’ I tell her, loosening the curls with my fingers. My hair is well grown down, which is just how I like it and the curls give it just a little bit of bounce. ‘I could never have done that in a million years. Now, do you still think jeans and a nice top? Or should I go summer dress? It’s not too bad outside. Or maybe I should glam it up just a wee bit? You know, show an effort?’
Flo is concerned. I know she is. She does this thing with her nose, like a tiny twitch, when she is hesitant or a bit anxious about something. I’m trying to control my nervous excitement but we know each other too well to keep any secrets.
‘Remember, Maggie. This is not a date.’
‘I know it’s not! He has a wife, for goodness sake, and a pregnant one at that. Plus, in case you didn’t notice, I am in no fit state to be on a date, but I just want to look nice. You would too!’
‘I just want you to be careful,’ says Flo, hoisting little Billie on to her hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m constantly amazed at how motherhood totally transforms a woman and I can’t help but wish that woman one day soon will be me. Though not like Flo. I want the man too, if you don’t mind, but I’m not exactly going in the right direction for that – with a failed marriage behind me.
‘It’s like this,’ I explain, hoping to reassure her. ‘Simon is the brother of the little girl who gave me life. I have had so many issues and struggles with trying to close the door on Lucy Harte for seventeen years now. She has haunted me forever and this might be my ticket to let her go.’
I sigh from the tips of my toes and get my coat, ignoring for now the chocolate finger prints that Billie has kindly left on it for me. Just as well this coat wasn’t part of my planned outfit for later this afternoon.
‘Simon gets into the city at two; we are having some pub grub and a chat at The John Hewitt after that. It’s all very cool and it’s all very casual and if you insist on sitting at a table in a corner in case he murders me in a public place, then so be it. I know what I am doing, Flo. Believe me.’
She walks me to the door and I give her a light hug, then kiss Billie very quickly on the cheek. There is no way I am risking kid snot or dribble on my newly applied make-up.
‘Say what you want but I will be there just in case,’ she says.
‘Say what you want but you’re just nosey,’ I say, walking to my car. ‘You’re dying to check him out all for yourself.’
She expertly pinches Billie’s snot and wipes it on her shirt.
‘Believe me, sunshine,’ she says in earnest. ‘Gawping at a man is the last thing on my mind right now. Go get ready. I’ll be the one in the long trench coat. Just call me Jessica Fletcher.’
Chapter 6
I am early. I couldn’t settle at home and I’ve been ‘ready’ for at least an hour, so I thought the best thing to do was just come here and wait. I do feel like it’s an awkward blind date, even though I know it couldn’t be anything more different. I chose my outfit carefully, a little too carefully perhaps, but I think I’ve got just about the right balance. Not too dressy, not too casual. The sun was shining and there was a hint of summer in the air as I drove here, which made my white jeans and pale-blue chiffon blouse feel just perfect for the occasion.
The occasion… what on earth is this occasion anyhow?
I am pondering this to myself when I see Flo come into the bar and she takes a seat and then hides her face behind a menu. I catch her eye and shake my head in laughter. She orders a drink from the waiter and then gives me the thumbs-up. I may have wound her up for doing this but now she is here I actually do feel a bit more settled. I am meeting a total stranger in very emotional circumstances, after all, so it’s good to know she has my back, should it, for whatever reason, go horribly wrong.
I get the waiter’s attention and ask for a tall gin and tonic. I need some Dutch courage now – more than I’ve ever done in my entire life.
‘Are you there yet?’ It’s a text from Simon.
‘I’m here,’ I message back. ‘I’m early.’
‘Good, so am I,’ he replies. The waiter returns and is just placing my drink on the table when I see him.
Jesus.
It really is him. Not Jesus, no, but Simon Harte, Lucy’s brot
her, walking towards me right here, right now. I smile. I breathe. I glance over at Flo who is staring at him like he is the Second Coming.
I wave. He waves back and smiles and runs his hand through his hair, looking as nervous as I feel.
This is so, so surreal. I stand up to greet him. He is tall. Boy, but he is tall. I swallow back a rainbow of emotions and I can’t hear anything now. The muffled sounds of cutlery and background music and people chatting fade into the background. Everything sounds and looks like a blur. I can see nothing and I can hear nothing. Nothing. Only him. It’s like time has stood still and it is making me very dizzy.
‘Maggie,’ he says, in his soft Scottish brogue. ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.’
His eyes fill with tears and mine do too. He keeps saying my name, whispering it and then he kisses me lightly on the cheek.
‘I… I have to say thank you, Simon,’ I mumble. ‘I just really want to say thank you to you and your family for what you have done for me.’
He stands back, his hands holding my wrists lightly and his eyes dancing, like this is truly a moment he has been longing for as long as I have. I am afraid that if he lets go of me I might fall. The room is really spinning. I focus on his face. His beautiful, smiley, friendly face.
‘You’re real,’ he says. ‘You’re Maggie.’
I feel my heart beat. My lonely, borrowed heart. I think of Lucy and I wonder if she is watching. Does she feel what I feel, what he feels – her very own big brother, who she left behind when she was much too young, has found me? A piece of her is inside of me. I feel guilty and grateful all in one big blow of emotion.
‘I can’t believe you are here,’ I manage to whisper.
For some reason it’s like my own world finally makes sense, like I make sense now. It is Lucy Harte’s brother and his family is the reason I am still alive.
‘I can’t believe I am here either,’ he says and I know he means it. ‘I can’t believe I am here… with you. This is… this is… pretty amazing.’
I feel so unsteady. If Flo looks at me now she will be calling an ambulance as I’m bound to be a deathly shade of white. He purses his lips and breathes in long and hard, then exhales and smiles and his eyes wrinkle and I can tell he is finding this just as overwhelming as I am.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ he says. ‘I have wondered about you forever. I think we should sit down. Will we sit down?’
‘My heart is racing I’m so totally nervous,’ I mutter and when he looks at me I can see the pain etched in his eyes as the reality of my heart, Lucy’s heart, racing sinks in for him.
He guides me to my seat and I sit down slowly, then take a sip of my drink, hoping it will bring me round. We stare at each other again and smile and stare and smile and stare.
‘You look different to what I expected,’ he says. ‘Not in a good way or a bad way, just different. God, I am waffling again.’
‘Well, you look… you look more tanned than I expected,’ I say with a nervous giggle. ‘Have you been on holiday? I feel very pasty and… well, Irish in comparison.’
He takes a seat opposite me, still smiling, still staring.
‘Yes, I thought I’d mentioned that,’ he says and his eyes wrinkle again.
‘No, you didn’t,’ I reply. I am shaking, but hearing his voice is soothing and I get a real sense of familiarity just being in his company.
I am nervous. I am emotional and I am in awe of this moment. It’s like I am meeting a long-lost family member, someone who has been looking for me and I have been looking for them for years and years and we are finally finding each other and it’s so darn overwhelming.
I signal the waiter’s attention again and Simon orders a beer as he tells me of a week in Greece he spent just after his father’s funeral. He went alone, which impresses me greatly.
‘Do you travel alone much?’ I ask. ‘I’m a bit of a chicken when it comes to going places alone. I always drag Jeff, well used to drag Jeff along or my mum and dad or a girlfriend. Some people prefer it. Do you?’
‘No, not normally,’ he says and his eyes divert from me slightly.
‘Did I say something wrong?’ I ask. He looks sad now. ‘God I’m talking too much. Sorry, I’m just so –’
‘No, you’re not, you’re not at all!’ he says, brightening up a bit. ‘It was more of a time to grieve than a holiday, that’s all, but anyhow…’
He goes quiet and the waiter thankfully breaks the brief silence by serving Simon’s beer, a Budweiser, by the bottle, like he asked for it. I stir my gin and tonic and feel butterflies in my tummy. Where on earth do we go from here? Food. Yes, food would the next stage, though I don’t know if I can actually stomach food right now.
‘You must be starving,’ I say, handing him a menu, which I realise I have two of. ‘I had a sneaky peek while I was waiting so I kind of know what I want. Though I am so nervous I don’t know if I can eat.’
‘I’m nervous too but I’m always hungry,’ he says. ‘My mum used to say…’
He trails off again and I notice him bite his lip.
‘Go on…’
‘Ah, it doesn’t matter,’ he says. ‘I won’t bore you with trips down memory lane just yet. Now, what do you recommend? I’m normally a steak-and-chips kinda guy.’
I glance over at Flo, who seems to have forgotten her detective mission and is wolfing down a humongous burger. Unlike me, she didn’t have small talk to go through before placing her order, so is well ahead with her grub. It’s just as well I’m not in any despair over here.
I realise that Simon is looking at me, waiting on my answer regarding the food.
‘Oh, sorry, do excuse me!’ I say. ‘I thought I recognised someone there but it’s an uncanny lookalike. Yes, recommendations. Well, I’m having salmon. I had steak here before and it was really good, so I’d say go with your usual.’
He flashes a smile at me and closes the menu. We are slowly beginning to relax now. It is a huge relief as my tummy starts to settle and my senses come back to me. I never felt nerves like that in my life, not even when I met Jeff’s fancy-pants-rich parents and, believe me, that was nerve-wrecking because they hated me and I knew it and that was way before my Britney Spears impression.
‘Steak and chips it is, then,’ he says. ‘Sorry if I’m staring. You’re shaking. Are you really that nervous?’
He keeps looking at me. Yes, staring, but I am doing the same back.
‘I’m something but I don’t know what it is,’ I confess. ‘I am nervous, yes, overwhelmed more so, but I am slowly starting to come around now, very slowly. You?’
‘Same,’ he says and his eyes smile. ‘I’m just in awe that this has finally happened. It’s like this was always meant to be. I just had to find you…’
He fidgets a bit and then continues.
‘Maggie, I hope I haven’t frightened you by landing so soon.’
‘No … God, no.’
‘I’m in deep grief once again in my life,’ he explains. ‘I am vulnerable at the minute and raw but I just needed to see you. I wanted to see that in some strange way, I still have part of my family alive. Does that make me sound like some freaky weirdo?’
I look at Flo. She is still attacking her burger. If she was Jessica Fletcher she would be sacked by now.
I look back at Simon. I look at the table. I look at my hands. And then I find my voice.
‘No, I don’t think you are some freaky weirdo,’ I tell him softly. ‘I have always wanted to meet you, or someone connected to Lucy, so that I could say thank you. I wanted to thank you, thank Lucy, for my life.’
He really looks like he could cry. If I am vulnerable, he is even more.
‘My wife thinks this is a bit crazy but I need to do this,’ he says. ‘I suppose that when my dad died, part of me died too and I just had to find something to hold on to. I’m making this all sound so desperate, but Lucy, well she was special to me and I wanted to see she… well, how she lives on. In you.’
I purs
e my lips and he puts his hands to his face in sorrow. Oh God, we should have met somewhere more private. This is all too much for a public bar. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say.
‘Are you okay, Simon? Do you want to go somewhere else? We could go to the park? For a walk?’
‘No, no, of course not,’ he says, taking a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I kind of knew this would happen but… sorry, it’s just a big moment for me, that’s all. I’m very raw right now, Maggie.’
Of course he is. It all makes perfect sense. His little sister, to lose her so young must be the worst thing ever and now watching me, living, breathing, drinking, talking, sitting opposite him. This is a big moment for him, for sure. And for me.
‘I hope I’m doing a good job with her heart,’ I whisper, ‘but to be honest, it’s been broken quite badly lately and I really need to fix it.’
He looks up at me with tears in his eyes. I shouldn’t have said that.
‘Let’s eat first,’ he says as the waiter finally brings our food. ‘Look, I am going to make this meeting positive because it is positive and there’s no point us both sitting here blubbering over our food.’
He attempts a smile.
‘It would be a shame to put this to waste,’ I say, looking at the delicious steaming dishes that are set before us.’
‘It surely would. Bon appetit, Maggie,’ says Simon Harte. ‘I won’t bombard you with everything too soon, but I have something for you that might, just might, help fix your broken heart. Or at least point you in the right direction.’
Chapter 7
After a fairly quiet but relaxed dinner, we decide to move on to somewhere new and as we walk through the evening sunshine I feel the warm fuzziness of the alcohol kicking in.
Before we left the bar, I gave Flo a discreet ‘thumbs-up’ when she finally had finished her burger followed by what looked like a chocolate sundae. She paid her bill and when Simon left the table to use the bathroom I sent her a text to tell her that he was very nice and very attached so that she could settle in the knowledge that I wasn’t about to jump his bones and then find myself embroiled in yet another messy relationship in which I try to sprint before I can even crawl.
The Legacy of Lucy Harte Page 5
