The Legacy of Lucy Harte

by Emma Heatherington

  I will think about it…

  As for Lucy’s pledge to always forgive your friends and family? Well, all I can think of is my brother and his efforts to get in touch … it’s a trickier one than most, I’m afraid, and might take me a little longer to address, but I’m working on it. I promise you, Lucy, I really am.

  ‘How was Dublin?’

  I am back in my apartment and Kevin, my neighbour, has popped in for a coffee. I left him a note to keep an eye on my place while I was away.

  I burst into a giveaway smile and Kevin’s eyes widen.

  ‘You met someone! Maggie, don’t tell me any different! Who was the lucky man?!’

  I try to hide it, but a smile keeps bursting through. I can’t deny it. I have to tell someone about Tiernan or I will explode! I reach for Lucy’s notebook, which is never far from my side and hand it to him.

  ‘I got this from my donor family just last week,’ I explain to him. ‘It’s Lucy Harte’s diary and in it she wanted to meet a guy called Tiernan Quinn, who was her first crush as a young teenager. I tracked him down and, well, it was never my intention, but my God, Kevin, I couldn’t resist! It was out-of-this-world amazing!’

  Kevin looks like his head is spinning with all this information. He flicks through the notebook in awe.

  ‘This is the best news ever,’ he says. ‘I knew there was something different about you. Your clothes, your skin, you have a new spring in your step – and it’s all because of this? I love it!’

  I put the kettle on. I have no wine in the house and I don’t even feel the need to have any. This time last week I would have been nursing a bottle and having panic attacks if there wasn’t a second one in the fridge to prop me up, or knock me out, by bedtime.

  ‘It has really got me thinking of how precious my life is, Kevin,’ I tell my trusty neighbour. ‘I was given a massive gift from this little girl and I have been taking it for granted, going into self-destruct mode all because of that worthless git I married and sinking booze like it was going out of fashion. I nearly lost my job too. She is saving me. She is really saving me again.’

  Kevin looks elated.

  ‘So you’re going to do the rest of these things? Find the world’s tallest bridge… get a tattoo? Are you seriously going to get a tattoo?’

  He frowns and I don’t blame him. Kevin is a clean-cut health freak and I am not the tattoo type at all.

  ‘Tiernan has tattoos,’ I tell him, and my eyes go all misty and dreamy at the thought. ‘I could get a nice henna one, you know, take the girly way out?’

  ‘This just keeps getting better! You’re a legend, Lucy Harte!’

  He closes the book and looks up to the heavens and then pretends to cough, but I know he is choked up at the change in me.

  ‘Do you think she is watching you, Maggie? It must be such a connection to have someone else’s heart beat inside you.’

  ‘I feel her with me every day,’ I explain to him. ‘But I know I don’t have forever. I have had Lucy’s heart for seventeen years now. Some day soon she is going to want it back.’

  Kevin looks down at the floor.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ he tells me. ‘I hate it when you talk like that.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. ‘Come here, you big softie, give me a hug.’

  Kevin wraps his bulky arms around me and gives me a tight squeeze. He’s a super-fit gym junkie who begged me for months to stop drinking so I know how much this change in me means to him.

  ‘It has really got me thinking of where I want to go in life, Kevin, and it’s not back to Jeff. I have closed the door on that possibility and I feel free already. It’s made me think of some of the things I’d like to do with my own life, as well as doing those that Lucy never got to do.’

  ‘Tell me more,’ says Kevin, sitting down at the table. ‘I’d love to hear of all your plans.’

  I hand him a coffee.

  ‘Well, when I had my operation all those years ago, there were certain things I couldn’t do for a long, long time. I couldn’t eat properly for months, I was on heavy medication and I never thought I would walk or run again as I was so weak from the whole experience, both physically and emotionally.’

  ‘I bet,’ he says, stirring his drink. ‘To owe your life to another person, to another family, must be a huge thing to deal with on so many levels.’

  ‘Have you ever run a marathon?’ I ask him and he drops his spoon.

  ‘A marathon? Well, that is a big fat change of subject.’ Then his eyes light up. ‘Are you thinking of running a marathon, Maggie? Are you sure you could do it?’

  ‘No, I am not thinking of running a marathon, silly,’ I explain to him. ‘Something shorter, yes. I’d like to do something physical, just for me.’

  ‘That’s a great idea!’ he tells me, straightening up in his chair. ‘I’ve run marathons, yes. What are you thinking? Ten K? Five K? Are you sure you’re up for it, Maggie?’

  ‘I’d like to do something really, really challenging for Lucy, and well, for me. Would you do it with me?’

  Kevin is already there in his head, I can tell. He takes out his phone and scrolls through a search engine for information.

  ‘Of course I will!’ he says. ‘My friend is organising a mini marathon, thirteen miles for charity in June. You could start with that? What do you think?’

  Kevin is already on his phone, texting his friend.

  ‘The most I have ever done is five K in a charity run,’ I tell him. ‘I mean, I don’t even know if I could do any more than that, but it would kind of fit in with some of these challenges I am setting myself and the mini marathon would be a great start. I’d love to do it. Really love to.’

  ‘Say no more. I will sign us both up,’ he says. ‘I’ve got the online registration here and, believe me, if you can do five K now, you can do a half marathon in a few months’ time. Easy.’

  ‘I didn’t say I could do five K now,’ I say, shuddering at the thought. ‘I’m kind of out of practice lately. It was quite a while ago, the five K… in fact it was probably ten years ago…’

  ‘Well, you know what to do about that, my dear!’ says Kevin, getting up and putting his cup by the sink. ‘You have a big fat Dublin hangover to nurse,’ he says. ‘And a half marathon to train for. Great to see you smiling, kid. You’ve just made my day.’

  He tilts my chin back and kisses me on the cheek.

  ‘Now… training? Don’t overdo it, do you hear?’

  I know what he is thinking. He glances at my chest and not in a luring way. He looks at my heart.

  ‘I will start off very gently,’ I tell him and he playfully jogs on the spot on the other side of the door, exactly in the spot where I punched Jeff. I still can’t believe I did that.

  ‘See, I’m training already,’ he says. ‘I never miss an opportunity.’

  ‘Well, before you get to your own front door I will be doing laps of the apartment,’ I tell him. ‘I mean it. I will.’

  ‘That’s my girl! Get on it!’ he replies and I laugh as he runs and shadow boxes his way down the corridor to his own apartment. ‘We can do this, Maggie! Operation Mini Marathon is on!’

  ‘It’s on!’ I call and I watch him as he goes.

  That’s it. I’m going for a run.

  A flurry of images go through my mind as I jog through Botanic Gardens, my head down, my earphones in and I am lost in a train of thought of what the next few months of my life will bring.

  I am going to run the mini marathon with Kevin all in Lucy’s memory. Yes… I will use that date as my official way of letting her go and moving on with the rest of my life, whatever that means.

  Everything else on her list, I am going to fit in between.

  It feels so liberating to be out in fresh air with music beating in my ears and a faint line of sweat across my back and on my brow. I think about Lucy and the weight and worry she had on her shoulders and how she couldn’t wait to run away from it all.

  Her childhood was a far c
ry from my own on the farm at Loch Tara with my doting parents, where we really did not have a care in the world apart from whose turn it was to clean out the chicken coop or who would go to the corner shop for some freshly baked buns from Mrs Taylor’s parlour.

  My brother John Joe loved those buns. I used to marvel at how he cherished every bite of the soft cake and fresh cream and how his eyes lit up when he saw Mum had been to Mrs Taylor on her way back from the Mart on a Saturday.

  I stop running to catch my breath and notice that my heart is beating really fast. Like, really fast. Maybe I’m not as fit as I thought I was. Or maybe it’s the thought of John Joe and the knowledge that he wants to talk to me about something and I haven’t replied that is making me all a-fluster.

  I find a park bench and take a long drink from my water bottle and focus on my breathing, then I check my stepometer, which tells me I’ve done over 7,000 steps so far. I’m happy with that. I check my phone. No messages. Good. And then I scroll back to find the one from my brother and I stare at it and I don’t notice I am crying until my tears fall onto my phone screen.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ it says.

  I need to breathe. I just need to breathe and get re-focused and then I can continue with my training. I have stuff to do in my life. Stuff for Lucy, like running the marathon and going to France to the bridge…

  But what does John Joe want from me? Is it good news or bad news or has he finally realised how shit he has treated me down the years? Is he feeling sorry for me over Jeff or does he just want to gloat and rub it in that my marriage failed.

  On auto-pilot, I find myself messaging my brother back. I don’t even know what part of the States he is in any more. I have totally lost track, as well as having lost interest in his whereabouts.

  ‘What do you want?’ I ask him. Blunt as it may seem, it’s all I need to know and he doesn’t deserve any formalities, plus by the time he gets it over there I will probably have forgotten that I even sent it. It’s gone. Sent. Done.

  I stand up and fix myself for the last lap of my run. I will do the same route again and then call it a day. I might even pop in to see Flo on my way home and see Billie for a cuddle, plus I am desperate to tell her about Tiernan Quinn!

  My phone bleeps. It is him. Already! So much for time difference between here and America…

  ‘Can you talk now?’ he asks me. ‘Can I call you now?’

  I sit back down on the bench and my fingers shake as I send him a reply.

  ‘I can talk,’ I tell him. ‘You can call me now.’

  Shit.

  Chapter 17

  So here I am, sitting on a park bench in my navy sports leggings and fluorescent-pink running vest on a warm evening in April, staring at my phone and not knowing what the hell to expect from my long-lost brother.

  I have butterflies in my tummy like a teenager on a first date and when the phone rings I let out a light yelp and then answer it like I have been given an electric shock.

  ‘At last!’ he says and I gulp at the sound of his voice. ‘You really do like to make me sweat it out, don’t you?’

  Oh, my God, there is so much I could say to that but I bite my tongue and I put on a radiant smile as if he can see me, as if no matter what he says right now won’t have the slightest effect on me like it used to.

  ‘I’ve been busy,’ are the first words I say to him. ‘Really busy. What’s up?’

  I want to ask are you sick? Are you dying? Are you pregnant? (Well, you never bloody know with Mr Casanova Yankee Doodle Doo!) Nothing would surprise me.

  ‘I just wanted to see how you are,’ he says and my mood lightens.

  ‘You… you what?’

  He has floored me for sure with that statement!

  ‘I’ve been worried about you. Are you okay, Maggie? I know you can’t be exactly on top of the world right now and I’ve been thinking about you and worrying.’

  I am utterly confused. So much so that I start to laugh.

  ‘Is this a joke?’ I ask him. ‘You want to know how I am? Are you for real?’

  I can hear a woman in the background, speaking in some sort of foreign accent and I roll my eyes in a mixture of pity for her and disgust at him for using women like they go out of fashion. It must be Vivienne, the French girl who Mum told me about. Actually, it probably isn’t Vivienne. That was two weeks ago. He has probably moved on to someone like her sister or her mother, knowing his high moral standards.

  ‘I don’t expect you to believe me, but Mum told me about you and Jeff breaking up and I just wanted to say I’m sorry that it didn’t work out,’ he says. ‘Do you want me to break his face?’

  He laughs but I put my hand on my forehead and shake my head in disbelief. I am lost for words.

  ‘That was a joke, Maggie. I have no intention of laying a finger on him, plus it would be pretty hard to break his face with the Atlantic Ocean in the way.’

  ‘You don’t need to break his face!’ I say down the phone. ‘I already did that all by myself, if you really want to know, and I’m not proud of it!’

  I am proud of it, actually, but I will never admit that to anyone.

  ‘So, is that it?’ I ask. ‘Is that all you want?’

  ‘Maggie, please!’ he replies in a tone of voice I barely recognise. ‘I totally get where you are coming from, but I’m your brother. I do care about you, no matter what you might think of me. You know you can talk to me anytime. Don’t go through this on your own. You don’t have to.’

  ‘I am not on my own!’ I shout and an elderly couple shoot me a disgusted look as they shuffle past on their evening walk. I mouth sorry, but they are too busy tut-tutting to notice.

  ‘I wish you would stop shutting me out, Mags,’ he says and my eyes fill up when he calls me that. Of all the memories I have with my brother, when he called me Mags… those were the good times. I can’t take this. I don’t need this emotion.

  ‘John Joe,’ I say to him. ‘I have moved on from you and from all of that and I don’t want to go back there again, so you can stuff your concern right up your arse because I don’t ever want to hear from you again unless it’s life or death, do you hear me?’

  ‘But Maggie!’

  ‘Goodbye John Joe!’

  I am about to hang up dramatically but the woman in the background is saying something again in her stupid accent. Actually, she is shouting something and the nosey part of me wants to know what she is talking about. What’s any of this got to do with her? She will probably be dumped by the time the phone call is over, knowing my brother’s romantic history.

  But she sounds desperate to talk to me.

  ‘Your brother is sick, Maggie!’ she is saying. ‘Please talk to him! He is very sick!’

  He is sick. I drop the phone onto my lap. I bloody knew it. I fucking knew it. Christ!

  I lift the phone to my ear. Pins and needles run right down my arms to my fingertips. He is sick. Fuck.

  ‘Are you still there, Maggie?’

  ‘I’m here,’ I tell the woman I have never met, and who I probably never will.

  ‘I am Vivienne, your brother’s wife.’

  His wife? Oh great, so he got married and never told any of us! I try to speak to her. My sister-in-law. I try again. I shake my head as tears stream down my face. No words will come out. I am too upset. I don’t even know what I am. I don’t know how much more I can take from this conversation.

  I hang up the phone and I start running like I never want to come back.

  ‘This is all very immature,’ says Flo when I tell her about John Joe. ‘You need to stop letting childhood memories strain your entire relationship with your brother, Maggie.’

  Well, it’s okay for her to say that, isn’t it? She wasn’t the one left for dead! I know I am being childish. I can’t help it. My counsellor told me the same, that when it came to my brother and I, that I was stuck emotionally but no matter how hard I try, I cannot bring myself to get over it.

  ‘You have no idea wh
at I went through,’ I say. I am sulking. I am actually sulking.

  ‘Tell me about Dublin,’ says Flo, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Did you find your mystery man? Was he hot?’

  I lift my car keys and purse and put on my coat, much to Flo’s surprise.

  ‘I’m not in the mood,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll fill you in some other time. I feel like getting pissed and forgetting all about John Joe, Tiernan Quinn, Jeff and my whole stupid life right now.’

  ‘Come on!’ says Flo. ‘You can’t leave me hanging like this! I have been waiting very impatiently for all the goss. What’s next on the list, then? Don’t leave like this, Maggie. And please don’t get pissed. You are doing so well.’

  I bite my lip and then I bite my tongue. John Joe has upset me, just as he always does, only this time it’s a different feeling from usual. It’s guilt. It’s pure, rotten guilt seeping through my veins and into my bones and I hate it. I actually hate it. I want to hug him and adore him like I used to. Why can I not just do that instead of bringing on all of this pain? He’s my brother… I am a failure.

  ‘I am not doing well, Flo!’ I say to my best friend. ‘I can kid myself that I am but I’m a long way off doing well! A quick shag in Dublin isn’t going to change my life, is it? My brother gets under my skin and right now all I can think of is him dying and it scares the bloody life out of me! I miss him, Flo! I miss what he used to be to me when we were really young, before this stupid heart transplant took over our whole lives and made me so different. Lucy says to forgive my friends and family but I can’t even forgive myself for how I have blamed him for so long!’

  ‘Is that what Lucy said on her list? Really? Well, then that’s your next move,’ says Flo. ‘Call him up. Arrange to visit. Do something, because right now you’re only torturing yourself and it’s not what you need right now. What do you think Lucy would do? What would she say if she saw you right now?’

  ‘She would say to go see him.’

  I know that she would, but I am exhausted with this all. I am tired and weary and right now, I want to forget about Lucy Harte. I just want to forget about it all.