“Christ Alive! Charlie, do you have to?” A hung-over Kathy yelled into a cloud of dust motes as she stood in the doorway. Her creamy skin looked deathly. Last night’s mascara had crept down her cheeks.
“Sorry, Kath, but I do,” shouted Charlotte, sweating with exertion. “Can’t leave the cabin in a mess. There’s loads to do. More than I thought. Quite a few hours of work at least.”
Seeing the pained expression on Kathy’s face, Charlotte switched off the machine. If she knew Kathy, she would only continue to moan and groan and Charlotte wasn’t in the mood. She would hoover later, when the others were gone. In the hung-over state they were in, they’d be more of a hindrance than a help.
“What’s all that hammering?” Kathy cocked her bleary head. “That’s even worse than the hoover. It’s going right through me.”
Alcohol had sensitised Kathy. But she was right. Charlotte heard it this time too. There it was – that hammering again. It was coming from another cabin. In her fragile state, Kathy’s hearing was more acute than Charlotte’s.
“I can’t do anything about that hammering,” said Charlotte. “Can I get you a cup of coffee and there might be some crisps left. Fancy that?”
Anything to shut Kath up.
“Puke – even the thought of crisps. I’ll just have coffee, thanks.”
“Whatever you like. Oh, poor you,” said Charlotte heading for the kitchen. “Go and wake the other two, will you? I’ll make some coffee for them too. I’m really very sorry about this, Kath, but I’m going to have to evict you lot soon. I need to get you on the road so that I can give this place a proper clean before I set off myself.”
“Yeah, alright, whatever,” said Kathy. “Jesus, look at the state of me.” Kathy peered into the small slate mirror on the whitewashed wall. “Who’s going to stop to give me a lift? I look horrendous. Like a fart in a trance.”
Charlotte was inclined to agree. “Come on, Kath, shake your ass. You’ll be okay after a coffee. You’ll feel a whole load better. Really. But you need to get a move on.”
“Looks like some of us already have,” said Kathy looking out the front window.
“What do you mean?” asked Charlotte.
“Look out there,” said Kathy, pointing.
Charlotte looked out the window and could see a figure down at the jetty. It was Sarah. As she stood there, with her back to them, a flock of gulls swooped up from the water and took off over her head. Sarah craned her neck back to follow them. Then as she turned around she caught sight of the girls at the window. She smiled and waved.
“Get up here, Nugent,” mouthed Charlotte, waving her back.
Forty minutes later, after much cajoling, after a wet face flannel was thrown at Ruth in bed, and two more rounds of coffee, Charlotte finally managed to get everyone into the Ford Fiesta. Kathy sat with her head in her hands. She was in bits. It was after ten and the clear sky of early morning looked like it was about to cloud over.
Sarah had insisted on making a placard for the journey. She’d used an empty cornflakes box and her lipstick. In big and bold red capitals she’d spelled out the word ENNIS.
“I’ll drive you all as far as the main road beyond the village, is that okay?” said Charlotte. “You guys should be able to pick up a lift easy enough from there.”
“Sounds okay. My bus isn’t until four,” said Ruth. “So that gives us nearly six hours to get to Ennis.”
“Mine is four or half-four. Can’t remember exactly,” mumbled Kathy. She looked like she hardly knew her name.
“Well my train back to Dublin is at three, so there’s going to be a lot of hanging around,” said Sarah looking more like a crusty hippy than ever. Sleep had wreaked havoc on her perm. At that moment, Charlotte had her doubts about them getting a lift at all. Her three companions made a disheveled crew.
“Best to leave enough time,” said Charlotte. “You never know. It could take a while to get to Ennis. It’s a good fifty miles or so, and on these roads…” she left the rest unsaid. Charlotte was again beginning to feel unwise about the decision to spend the petrol money. It had been a joint decision, however she’d been the one to suggest it.
As they drove through the sleepy village, they passed the village pub – scene of the previous night’s revelry.
“I’m never ever drinking again,” moaned Kathy, leaning her face up against the cool window pane.
“Not for two whole weeks at least,” said Charlotte. “You’ll be celebrating your exam results then!”
Kathy groaned. “If by some fluke, I pass,” she said, “I’ll celebrate with a chocolate orange and a cup of cocoa. Seriously guys, I think I’m going to join Alcoholics Anonymous.”
“That’ll be the day,” muttered Ruth. “You’ll be alright once you get some fresh air, Kath.”
“What about here, girls?” asked Charlotte, as she indicated to pull in. “Will I let you out here?”
“Yeah, fine,” said Ruth.
“As good a place as any,” Sarah agreed.
Kathy didn’t respond.
So Charlotte pulled the red Ford Fiesta into a lay-by a mile or so beyond the village. It seemed a good choice to her. The girls would have a good line of sight to any passing traffic.
“Here we go,” said Ruth getting out of the car first. “Come on, Kath. And Sarah, shake that ass…”
Ruth was revving up into full field marshal mode now and Charlotte had visions of her frog-marching the other two down the road. She kept the engine running and watched as Ruth helped Kathy to put on her rucksack before putting on her own. Sarah looked like a busker, with her biker jacket, her black and white scarf, Dr Martens, gypsy skirt, and her sticker-covered suitcase.
“Any chance of some roll-ups for the road, Charlie?” Kathy asked. “I’ve smoked all mine.”
Now there’s a thing, thought Charlotte.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Charlotte shut off the engine as she parcelled out tobacco and some rizla papers.
“I’d love some too,” Ruth ventured. “If you have any to spare.”
Charlotte got out of the car. “Not so fussy about smoking roll-ups now, Ruth, are you?” Charlotte said, handing the papers and tobacco to her.
“Thanks, Charlie. You’re a pal,” said Ruth throwing her arms around Charlotte.
“Yeah, right,” said Charlotte hugging her back.
“See you three in two weeks’ time then,” Charlotte said, after she hugged Sarah and Kathy too.
“You can always come up to Dublin to see me for weekends if I don’t pass the re-sits,” said Sarah glumly. “I’ll need to be rescued from my mother.”
“C’mon, Sarah, chin up. We’ll be celebrating in two weeks’ time. Just you wait and see,” said Charlotte, getting back into the car.
“I bags the single room in the next house – if there’s a single going,” Kathy mumbled.
“Don’t you worry, Kath – you can have it,” said Ruth. “I don’t think any of us want to share with you and all your visitors.”
“Bloody charming,” said Kathy, deathly pale. “That’s so charming that is. I know who my friends are.”
“Now, now, ladies, no fighting!” laughed Charlotte, turning on the ignition. Blowing a final kiss, Charlotte did a three-point-turn to point the car in the direction of the village. She left the girls on the roadside and she picked up speed heading back towards the cabin for the final clean-up.
It had been a great weekend and they would be together again in two weeks. In the meantime, she would to miss them all.
Even Ruth.
Ruth
The Blue Pool
August 1991
Getting a lift was going to be harder than she thought. They’d been dropped off at twenty past ten and they’d been here nearly an hour.
“My mouth is like the bottom of a birdcage,” moaned Kathy. “My head’s going to explode any minute now. Literally explode. Do either of you have an aspirin, a bullet would do…” She was slumped over her rucksack
. “I’m dying here, and no one seems to notice.”
They noticed alright. It was pretty hard not to.
“You’re not going to be like this the whole way to Ennis, are you?” asked Sarah. “And no, I don’t have any aspirin. You finished the packet last night, remember?”
“I don’t remember anything,” she groaned. “Please, just leave me here to die.”
It was tempting, thought Ruth. Sorely tempting. She looked up and down the deserted road.
“Where the hell is everyone?” whined Kathy.
Incredibly, not a single car had passed. Nothing on the lonely road but them.
“I guess the weekenders went home last night.” Ruth was willing herself to be patient. “It’s early enough. We’re bound to get a delivery truck or something passing through.”
“Wouldn’t hold my breath,” said Kathy.
“I wish you bloody would,” Sarah muttered.
In the lay-by was a mound of road-work gravel. Sarah parked herself on top and was flagging down imaginary traffic with her homemade placard.
“For pity’s sake, someone rescue us!” she cried. “Take pity on our miserable souls.”
“Nugent been smoking some funny stuff?” Kathy asked, looking at Ruth.
“It’s not roll-ups anyway. Look at her ear.”
Tucked on Sarah’s ear was a cigarette.
“Thought you said your cigarettes were all gone?” Ruth shouted at her.
“They are,” Sarah said, staking her placard in the stones. “I got this from Milo. I’d forgotten all about it.” She sat down. “I’m saving it for the train.”
“He seemed into you,” said Ruth.
“Come on,” Sarah scoffed. “You having a laugh? I only entertained the guy ’cause I didn’t want to be rude.”
“Ah, now Nugent, don’t go making excuses,” said Kathy, brightening up. “I’m with Ruth – you two clicked. And you must admit you like the outdoor type.”
“Get lost!” said Sarah “You don’t really think I was interested in him, do you? He was a lunk. I set my sights a little higher,” she said.
Ruth was amused. Did Sarah really think Luke the fisherman such a catch? The thought was quite ridiculous.
“Milo wasn’t that bad,” Kathy joined in the needling. She was showing signs of forgetting her hangover at last.
“I’m not listening,” said Sarah. “Anyhow, my taste in men might surprise you.” She smiled slyly.
She was definitely up to something, thought Ruth.
“Seriously though, you’ve got to admit caving’s pretty cool,” Kathy said, getting into her stride. “It’s kind of creepy too. I mean, who in their right mind would climb through tiny tunnels filled with water? I feel claustrophobic even thinking about it.”
“Those guys were complete rednecks,” said Sarah. “You know what they do for fun – when they’re not caving that is?”
“Go on,” said Ruth.
“They shoot rats. They shoot rats for fun. Can you believe it?” said Sarah. “They drive up to their local rubbish tip, turn on the headlamps, and shoot at rats. I hate the things but to shoot at them for fun…” Sarah shook her head. “And I figure that’s not all they shoot at either –”
“What do you mean by that?” Ruth asked, sharply.
“Oh, nothing, it doesn’t matter…” Once again, Sarah looked like she was hiding something.
“You can’t not tell, that’s unfair,” said Kathy.
“Oh, alright,” said Sarah. “It’s just some of the stuff Sean was saying in the pub last night before we left,” she paused. “I got a feeling those guys were involved in stuff.”
“Stuff? What kind of stuff?” asked Kathy. She was sprawled out like Lady Muck using the rucksack as a pillow.
“I don’t know for sure. But Sean kept banging on about ‘the Brits’ and the ‘ movement.’” Sarah raised her eyebrows.
Ruth thought back over the previous evening. “So you think they were republicans?” She was doubtful.
“I don’t know what the hell they were,” said Sarah. “But they were up to something. Milo got really annoyed and told Sean to shut the fuck up at one stage.”
Ruth had noticed a frosty exchange between the two men during the evening but she’d put it down to a difference of opinion about who should pay for the next round of drinks.
“And don’t you think it weird that they came all the way down here from the north of Ireland?” Sarah asked. “That guy Bundy seemed pretty fired up about this new cave that they’d found, didn’t he?” she asked. “But Milo, he didn’t want to tell us where it was – am I right?”
“What exactly are you driving at, Sarah?” asked Ruth. So what if those guys wanted to keep their new find a secret? That wasn’t a crime.
“I know what Sarah’s getting at,” said Kathy. “She thinks they’re using the caves for something…”
“I think it’s possible,” said Sarah softly.
Ruth felt a chill creep up her spine. “Ah c’mon, Sarah. You’re not being serious?” she said. “Arms you mean? Guns and ammunition?”
“Why not?” Sarah’s eyes were big as saucers. She loved a secret.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Ruth. “You said yourself they were just a bunch of rednecks.” Now she felt uneasy. To think they may have been in the company of terrorists.
“Just wait til Luke hears about your terrorist lover, Sarah,” said Kathy, grinning.
“I couldn’t give a shit what you tell him,” said Sarah. She lunged down the mound and shoved a fistful of stones down Kathy’s jumper.
“Get off!” Kathy shouted. She bent down to grab a handful and aimed for Sarah’s legs. Sarah whooped as she ducked out of the way.
Ruth joined in as well.
As the three of them goofed around, they never noticed an ice-cream lorry coming in their direction. It whizzed right past them. Ruth screamed as she watched its rear, complete with smiling penguin, disappearing around the bend.
Sarah was running after it wailing, “Come back you idiot, come back!”
She walked back slowly out of breath. “I don’t bloody believe it,” she wheezed, sitting on her suitcase. Out came the inhaler from her jacket pocket. “What a bummer,” she said, inhaling.
Ruth was fit to cry. They’d been here for an hour and a half and the first vehicle to pass them, they hadn’t heard because of fooling around.
“There’s bound to be more,” said Sarah, hopefully.
“Really?” said Kathy. “Like a whole convoy of ice-cream trucks on their way out of North Clare. Like a mass exodus of trucks, is that what you mean, Sarah? Maybe a fucking ice-cream truck convention?”
“Hold on a minute, “said Sarah. “Don’t take this out on me. It’s as much your fault as it is mine.”
Ruth listened as the squabbling continued. Everyone was getting ratty. She left them and went to sit on the opposite side. From there she could watch the road in both directions. After a while the bickering stopped and Ruth watched as Kathy lit her second roll-up. Sarah was sulking.
An ominous sky replaced the crisp bright sunshine. It looked moody and grey. The landscape that had been so dramatic and beautiful now felt grim and foreboding. There was rain in the air. Ruth hoped they’d get a lift soon.
She thought about this time next year. This time next year, she wouldn’t find herself hitching on the side of the road. This time next year, she’d be a graduate. She’d have a job. She’d have money. She’d have a nice apartment, she might even have a car. Only one more year. The world was out there, ready for her to discover. All she had to do was pass the re-sits.
Suddenly she heard a rumbling sound. “Something’s coming…” Ruth ran into the road. “Something big – maybe a truck. Okay guys, get your stuff. This could be it…”
They lined up together. Out went Ruth’s thumb. She’d give a friendly smile. As the moving white blob drew close, they could see it was a van. Thankfully, it was slowing. Would it stop? It looked like it. She c
ould make out the lettering now. Three cheers for the County Council and the mobile library.
“Any chance of a lift to Ennis?” Ruth asked the driver who looked her up and down through the open window. The woman’s arm wobbled as she bit into a sandwich.
“Just yourself?” the woman asked, her mouth full. She had a squinty eye.
“That’s right,” said Ruth. “Just me and my two friends.” Ruth pointed to the others across the road. “We’re going to the station in Ennis.”
“Is that so? Mmm…” another bite of the sandwich. “Sorry, lovey,” said the woman. “There’s no way I could fit three of you up front with me. Not a chance.” She suddenly looked inside the sandwich as if she’d eaten something unexpected.
Ruth’s heart sank.
“Not from around here, are ye?” asked the woman, picking something out of the bread.
“No, just here for the weekend,” said Ruth.
“I suppose you stayed back in the village in one of the B&Bs? My cousin, runs The Hawthorns, ye didn’t stay there, did ye?”
Perhaps all was not lost if she could engage the woman just a little further.
“No actually, we stayed up at the Blue Pool,” said Ruth.
The woman’s face darkened. “In one of the cabins?” she asked slowly. “A lot of foreigners go there. Some right strange folk too.” She appeared to think. “There’s a fellow by the name of Hanley owns one. Was out foreign in Africa for a long time, in some kind of cult so he was. You’re not one of those Hanleys, are you?” Her eyes narrowed.
“No, no, I’m not,” said Ruth. “We stayed at Cyril Moran’s place.”
The chewing became more ponderous. “No…nope, can’t say I ever came across anyone of that name.”
Shit.
“There isn’t any way we could go in the back of the van?” It was a last attempt.
Sandwich lady looked at her as if she was mad. “Jeepers, no lovey. That wouldn’t be regulations. Not regulations at all, at all. I’d be before a committee back at the council. You girls take care now.” And off she drove with her ham sandwich and her squinty eye.
The Blue Pool Page 15
