“Before Harry died he wrote you a letter. On the night of the party, after the police had left, I slept in his room, in his bed. To feel closer to him. You know, to smell him, to feel his essence around me. My beautiful boy. I found it on his bed.”
“What? How is that possible, why didn’t you give it to me?”
Cassidy turned from her mother and laced her hands through her hair.
She felt hot stinging tears in the back of her eyes and when her mother hugged her she leaned back into her, afraid of what was coming next.
“I didn’t give it to you because you weren’t ready. You couldn’t move forward, you needed to let him go. We all did, but you especially. It’s not honouring his memory to stop living. To shy away from love and life the way you have. Rory has changed that. He is the one person you have allowed to crack the shell around your heart. You are free now, my lovely girl. Free to start your life again.”
Alice put her hands lightly on Cass’s shoulders, and turned her around to face her.
“Are you angry with me, Cass?”
‘No. Of course not. I understand why you kept it.”
“Moving on doesn’t meaning forgetting, it just means remembering the parts of him that are still here. His spirit, his life, his gift to Aoife and the others who benefited from his organ donation.”
Cass shut her eyes tight and let a single tear fall, before she dashed it away and let out the breath she had been holding.
“I know, mum. I know it’s time to say goodbye to him. Before it felt like a betrayal. Now it just feels like a new beginning.”
Alice pressed the letter into her hand, and nodded at Cass as she left the room. Looking around the room Cass walked back over to the bay window and stared out for a minute, fingering the envelope. It was crisp, white and smooth, with a raised area in the middle. Her hands were shaking as she opened it and shook the contents onto her lap. A small black velvet pouch caught her eye and she put it down on her lap picking up the letter and unfolding it.
Dearest Cassie,
Okay, I know this is probably unexpected. As you know, I’m not much into letter writing etc. Except for the seventeen love letters I sent to Michelle Dixon, at fourteen. Of course, I hope you don’t walk up to me with your boyfriend in tow and set fire to them at my feet. I’m not sure I could go through it a second time. Those were my favourite shoes and I stank of smoke for two weeks after!!!!!!! Although, when you throat punched him in front of half the class, he did seem more than a little contrite. Seriously though, I wanted to write to you today on the day of our 21st birthday. There is so much I want to say to you. When I head off to France on Tuesday, it will be our first time apart, ever. A full year of studying abroad, I can’t even think how I will do it without you. We have grown up together; we grew inside mum together, always the two of us against the world. Twins, college roommates, best friends, you have seen every high and every low of my life so far. I will miss you the most. I love you so much and I am so proud of the woman you have become. As your older brother (Hey, no eye roll, those fifteen minutes are very important) I want to make sure you are ready for life and it is my solemn duty to impart some wisdom I have gathered over the last 21 years. Listen up, sis.
1. You are a beautiful, strong woman and should absolutely DUMP Jonathan. Now!
2. He is not good enough for you, treats you like
dirt and is talking about waxing his balls (I’m serious).
3. You can do anything you want in life. No. Don’t disagree or raise your eyes to heaven or shake your head. I really mean it. I admire you so much. You are so wonderfully driven and you don’t even give yourself credit for it. I hope life gives you everything you deserve and only good things. You are sublimely talented.
4. Always know, that I love you unconditionally. I will always be on your side. No matter how much you fuck up. And, I know you will do the same for me. Something tells me you will fuck up more than me though. Call it brotherly intuition!
5. Love with your heart wide open. It is the only way to love. Do not be afraid of having your heart broken, it is a muscle and as such, has memory. It will remember how to heal itself and beat stronger for every fracture it incurs.
6. Stay close to mum and dad. They are your past, they shape your future. They are your fan club, your street team, and your champions. They will be there for you in times when you need it most, and appreciate it the least. Their love for us is endless and pure. All good, and all encompassing. Look for love like that, settle for nothing less.
5. Read Steinbeck.
6. DUMP Jonathan. For ALL of the above reasons.
P.S I saw this ring in Ireland when I was over there last month for Matt’s birthday weekend. It’s my birthday present to you. It is called a Claddagh ring (that’s pronounced Clad-ah for those not in the know.) The hands represent friendship, the crown is loyalty and the heart is love. All these things are you, Cass. They are us. Wear it and think of me, I’ll be back before you know it, and you can always come over to Paris and take me out on the town!
And that is it! Well come on, I am only twenty-one for heaven’s sake Cass! The world is yours for the taking. Grasp it with both hands, and shake the shit out of it. This is where it all begins.
Much love always and forever. Har.x
Cass put the letter aside and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She couldn’t gage how long she sat there, having a truly ugly cry. The light faded outside the window and her nose and eyes were swollen and sore. She fingered the small velvet bag and pulled open the black rope tie. She held the ring in her palm, marvelling at the craftsmanship of it. Sterling silver with a band that became two hands holding a heart. The heart was topped with a crown. In the centre of the heart was a little diamond, their birthstone. Inside the band were the words Grá agus Gáire. What did it mean? Cass tried it on and it fit her middle finger perfectly. Thank you Harry. I love it; I’ll love it forever.
It was time. Time to face up to everything she was afraid of. The one person she was closing out, was the one person she needed to let inside. He had acted like an idiot, but he was all that was good. All that was decent and real. Rory. She needed to go to him. To tell him it was okay, that she forgave him. And Aoife, Aoife O’Malley who held a living piece of Harry inside her. Cassidy left Harry’s room closing the door softly behind her. She put her hand on the kitchen door, for a moment just standing there and breathing deeply. Pushing it open she was greeted by her parents’ anxious faces. Her dad looked up from his newspaper and her mum was holding on to the kettle, her knuckles white and her face taunt with tension.
“I’m going to Ireland. I’m going to go and meet Aoife O’Malley. Oh, and I’m going to get my Rory back too.”
Her father stood up and walked towards her arms outstretched; her mum was beaming and ran to her, the three of them hugged hard. This is our family now, thought Cassidy. This is what is left, and it’s time to move forward.
“Bring me back a lucky clover.” Her dad said in the worse possible imitation of an Irish accent. “Sorry, about that,” he muttered.
Cass sniggered at him. “You’re fine. Bye guys, I love you both.”
“Cassidy,” her mum followed her out to the front door.
“Give Aoife this and tell her we will always think of her and would love to meet her someday.”
Her mum handed her a framed photo of their family, and two letters. One letter addressed to Aoife and one to Louisa and Gearóid O’Malley.
“How did you know I would go?”
“I’m your mother. I know everything.”
One last hug and Cassidy was running down the steps and down the driveway to her car. She needed to get to Gatwick and catch the first flight to Shannon airport. Would he still want to see her? Would he still care? She had to know one way or the other. Driving as quickly as she could through the busy London traffic, she rewrote her speech to him over and over again in her head. She wanted him to understand how she felt about him; one night was not
enough for her anymore. She had to make him understand that she was in love with him. Harry’s words swirled around her head. Grab it with two hands. Love with your heart wide open. It is the only way to love. An hour later, she was waiting in Gatwick airport with nothing but her passport and the framed photo of Harry and the letters. You idiot, Cassidy. No clothes, no toothbrush nothing. It was too late to turn back now. She would bottle it if she waited too long. It has to be now; it has to be like this.
(Rory)
Three things come without asking,
Fear, jealously and love.
Irish proverb
Rory stared out of the window surveying the land around him. Lush green grass with blocks of limestone dotted through the landscape. Standing at the conservatory window looking out on the hills of Kilvarna always steadied him. This was home, a safe place and yet he felt so lost. Something was missing. Her. She is missing. Because you broke her and used her for your own ends, ya thick! He had wanted so much for her to be a good person. A person who would be gentle with Aoife and not make her feel even more guiltier for living because of the death of another. But, you never counted on loving her did you? He had never thought for a second that she would crawl under his skin and live there inside him. Why didn’t he just walk away and leave her alone? Because I couldn’t. I can’t. She is mine and I am hers. There is no other one for me but her, no other skin that matches mine, no other body that is fits mine so perfectly. And no other heart that calls out to mine. Ah, shut up will ya, Rory. Just shut up.
“Are you all right Rory?”
Rory jerked his head up to find Aoife standing with a cup of tea, offering it to him.
“Ya, I’m grand. Just thinking.”
“Don’t damage your brain now will ya.” He smiled, in spite of himself. He never thought he would miss that side of his sister. But, he had. When she was dying, before…before Harry, she had become so quiet. Fading into a shadow of the girl she once was. It was time. Time for some home truths. Time to be the bad guy. And he longed for it. Longed to feel pain on another level. Pain that didn’t come from the piece of his heart that a Devon girl in London, still held.
“Sit down Aoife. I’ve something to tell you. And you need to hear me out, okay? You need to let me tell you everything.”
“Spill, but if you’re going to tell me that you are in love, you can stop right there. I already know.”
Rory whipped his head in her direction. “What the hell are you talkin’ about Aoife? What do you know about it?”
“I know my brothers and you are moping around here like a dog who has had its nose slapped. Please don’t let it be one of those soulless bimbos that you go out with so you won’t have to actually feel something resembling an actual emotion.”
“Hey! I feel things, I’m just shy.”
“My arse you are! You took off your clothes and streaked through the village only ten years ago when Darragh bet you that you wouldn’t. I may have been sick, but I wasn’t blind or deaf, you big eejit! Mrs Brown had to say two decades of the rosary for your poor wicked soul. Or her own probably, with all the dirty thoughts she had about your man bits.”
“Man bits? Jesus, Aoife.”
“Okay, okay,” Aoife put her hands up in mock surrender, laughing loudly.
“Tell me what ails you, brother dear?”
Ten minutes later they both sat in silence, the cup of tea long gone cold in the mug, still in Rory’s hand. He had told her everything. How he found the Evans family, all about Harry’s accident and about Cass. All about Cass, and how he loved her and how he had broken her heart. Aoife broke the silence first, her mouth opening and closing in shock.
“But, why did you do it? Why did you find those poor people and disrupt their lives like that? Ah Rory, what the hell were you thinking? Do mum and dad know? What is she like? What was he like? Is she angry with me? Harry Evans. His name was Harry Evans.”
Rory saw her touch her chest in wonder, her hand feeling each breath entering her body. “Mama told me you wanted to trace them.”
“Yeah, through the proper bloody channels! Oh Jesus Rory!! I’m so pissed off with you. Why do all the O’Malley men, have an innate need to meddle and try to fix every situation? You barrelled into this girl’s life and what? Told her I was the recipient and I wanted to know about the donor, her feckin’ twin brother?!”
“I didn’t tell her anything. She found out by accident.”
Aoife’s voice rose to a shrill and dangerous level. She stood up and started mumbling to herself. He could make out the odd ‘bastard’ followed by some serious head shaking and, “No, say you didn’t?”
“Sweet Jesus, you seduced her didn’t you? You bloody did! Oh I’m shamed. She must hate me even more now. Tell me you didn’t Rory please!” Rory couldn’t bring himself to look at her or answer the bombardment of questions. He put his head in his hands and groaned.
“Ya little bollix ya. I’m telling mama and dad."
Aoife stormed out of the room, and Rory heard her shouting in the kitchen and then being soothed. It only took a minute before half a dozen raised voices joined in. “He did what?!” “Oh sweet Jesus.” “What the hell is wrong with him?!”
“Where is he? Get him up here! Now!”
Rory groaned. He knew they were coming for him, ready to string him up for what he had done and he deserved it. He knew that, but not now. He couldn’t deal with it now. Slipping out of the conservatory, he left through the back door. Wrapping the lapels of his coat around himself, he walked off through the fields he knew so well, leaving them all behind. His head was wrecked and he needed a damn pint.
The taxi driver dropped Cassidy at gates of Cherry tree farm and turned around to say goodbye to her. “You’ll be grand here lovey, that’s the O’Malley place up the top of the lane. Lovely place it is too. Ah, they’re lovely people altogether. The boys were a bit wild in their younger days, especially Rian the youngest lad. Broke Mrs Murphy’s windows three times in one month kicking a ball through it. Now, I’m not sayin' it was on purpose like, but the young Murphy lad was always bothering them O’Malley girls. He stopped soon after that. Nicer people I tell you, you couldn’t meet. Are you staying long, love? Are you a friend of the family maybe?”
Cassidy tried to decipher the majority of what he was saying, but his accent was so thick and he spoke so fast that she just nodded and handed him 20 euros.
“Now that’ll be 17 euro, sorry about that but it’s a long old drive from the airport. Sure you wouldn’t get a bus this time of night anyway. Now, my Mary had a word with Grogan, he’s the town councillor.” Cass nodded at him, she was becoming well acquainted with his Mary. She sounded like a tough cookie.
“Grogan, my Mary said. We could use a bus that went past nine at night surely? And do you know what he says to her? He says, Mary, you’re full of bright ideas you should run for the council yourself. Imagine! My Mary on the council, oh how we laughed.”
Cassidy smiled while trying to exit the cab as quickly as she could.
“Nice to meet you, keep the change.” What the hell was that about?
Walking up the long pathway that was lined with trees, she ran it over and over in her head what she wanted to say. Would he even see her? There was no ATM’s out here and she had exactly 10 euros in her handbag. Oh Cassidy what the heck were you thinking?
Where the hell am I anyway? It was a whole lot more secluded than she thought it would be. The trees on either side of the path made a tunnel of complete blackness. The only illumination came from small ground lights every so often, that lit the next ten metres in a dim, yellow light.
Just as she was going to give up and sit in the middle of the lane and cry, she spotted an opening and the lights ahead of a big farmhouse. Oh God, what am I doing here!?
She approached the house taking in the large light that lit the old red door of the white washed farmhouse. Hanging baskets and window boxes were littered around making it look beautiful and well loved. Cass heard vo
ices ahead.
“Rory! Rory O’Malley, you better back inside in the next ten minutes!”
Eh? Why was someone shouting for Rory?
She walked through the gravel into the light and stopped ten feet from a crowd of people milling around the front door. Everyone stopped and turned to gawk at her.
“Hi. I’m… I’m looking for Rory too.”
She was stammering and her voice came out quiet and afraid.
One of the men, a slightly thicker version of Rory, stepped forward and openly looked her up and down. He had wide black eyes and the cheekiest dimples on both his cheeks. Cassidy couldn’t help but gape at the crowd in front of her. They were one handsome family. Each one a carbon copy of the older man and woman who stood holding hands looking distressed and worried. Obviously Rory’s Mama and Dad. Opposite in every way, they made a very striking pair. He was tall at least 6 ft 4inchs and had a shock of red hair streaked with grey strands that fell to his shoulders in curls and had a full beard. He wore black jeans and a Thin Lizzy tee shirt that made him look younger than his years and effortlessly relaxed. Cassidy pulled her coat around her, wondering how he could bear to be out in the cold with only a tee shirt on. The woman who held his hand was around 5ft, petite and dark, she had deep-set dark eyes and looked like a female version of Rory, compacted into a small beautiful package. She wore a winter coat, red with black buttons.
The man who was eyeing her suspiciously said, “Listen lady, my brother isn't seein' visitors tonight, I'll call ya a cab. This is a family matter.”
Rory’s mother spoke up. “Hush Rian, manners please. The girl looks frozen to the bone. Where are you from girl?” From behind the crowd, a man with a deep timbre cleared his throat. A male voice with a slightly English twang mixed with an Irish underlay spoke. “Let her in. Her name is Cassidy. Cassidy Evans.”
Darragh!
One of the girls in front of her made a noise and Darragh ran forward to catch her as she fell to the ground.
Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance Page 16
