The Middle Place

by Kealan Ryan

  She takes a drive into town and does a little shopping for herself – buys a teapot that she thinks looks cool and a quirky-looking handbag. She almost feels content, driving back to the house, swinging by the supermarket first to pick up some bits and pieces. She’s going to ask my folks to stay for dinner.

  It’s not like Ger is stalking the place or anything – it’s just that if ever he needs a big shop, he’ll make sure to do it in this one rather than Aldi, which is about five minutes closer to his house. Still, he’s been shopping here for the best part of four fucking months and is beginning to think that he’ll never bump into Pam again. But today’s the day. Unfortunately he’s in the toilet-roll section when they cross paths, so for the third time in a row he takes a redner when he sees her. Only three redners in about twenty years and they’re all in front of this one – he almost has to laugh at the thought. Then it flashes into his head that maybe she just thinks that’s his complexion, which calms him a bit.

  ‘Hello, Pam,’ he says quietly. She saw him as she approached, so isn’t taken off guard.

  ‘Hello, Ger.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks. ‘You look a little …’ He doesn’t know what, so leaves the sentence unfinished.

  ‘I’m okay – how are you?’

  ‘I’m good. I …’

  He’s about to try to crack some joke but he can see that there is something about her demeanour. She’s more serious – looking straight at him. She seems calm but delicate. He doesn’t want to bullshit with her. ‘I … Listen, the truth is I’ve been shopping here in the hope that I’d bump into you.’ She stays looking at him calmly and he gets a little flustered, ‘Em, I’d like to take you out basically so …’

  ‘Oh.’ Pam bows her head, not knowing what else to say.

  ‘I know you said you’re not married anymore, so let me just take you to dinner and you never know – I think we’d have a real nice time.’

  ‘You’ve really caught me on a funny day.’

  ‘Just my luck,’ he says and Pam smiles, so he continues, ‘I’ve been coming here for fucking months and I catch you on a funny day. Wonderful.’

  She laughs slightly. ‘Well, being honest, all my days are a little funny, I guess.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  Pam nods, then starts to fill up. It’s just becoming too much for her and the last thing she needs is to burst out crying in front of this guy, who is practically a stranger. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says and considers turning to run but doesn’t want to cause a big scene. She has her basket in her hand and doesn’t know what to do with it so looks around anxiously.

  ‘Pam, what is it?’

  ‘I have to get out of here.’

  ‘Okay.’ Ger takes the basket from her hand and puts it in his trolley. Then gently takes her by the arm and leads her out the door.

  Pam glances back and says, ‘What about the shopping?’

  ‘Who cares?’ he says gallantly.

  By the time they are outside Pam has gathered herself.

  ‘Here, sit down over here.’ Ger says and brings her to the red-bricked wall that surrounds the car park. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Jesus, I’m sorry.’ She almost starts laughing.

  ‘Don’t be. It’s not the worst reaction I’ve got after asking someone out.’ Now she really laughs and he smiles. ‘What is it, Pam, is there anything I can do?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. You see … well, when I said that I’m not married, it’s true. I’m not married, but it’s only because my husband died.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘He was killed.’

  ‘What? Holy shit, Pam, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Over two years now, but it’s still so fresh and today, well, yesterday something happened that’s kind of knocked me again.’

  This poor asshole, he wasn’t expecting that. All of a sudden this beautiful, mysterious woman has a shitload of baggage. It would be priceless if it wasn’t so damn sad. To be fair to the fucker, though – he is genuinely concerned. He feels something for Pam and this revelation doesn’t change it.

  They stay on the wall for the best part of an hour. She tells him everything. He listens and offers the best advice he can, which is basically fuck all, but he listens and by the end of it he feels more for her than he ever did. She jokes with him at the end, after he hears the entire sob story, ‘So you still want to go out with me?’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘The thing is, Ger, you’re great. I just don’t think I’m ready.’

  ‘That’s fine. Just take my number and whenever you want – even if it’s just for a chat – give me a call.’

  ‘I already have your number.’

  ‘You do?’ This makes him happy, knowing that she’s kept it after all this time.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, in case you can’t find it.’ He writes it out again on a small piece of paper he had in his back pocket and hands it to her.

  ‘Thanks. I better go,’ Pam says, standing.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Thanks for listening to me rant on. I hope I haven’t completely depressed you.’

  ‘No. I’m glad to have seen you again.’

  And with that, for the third time, he watches her walk away.

  52

  Danny said something in his prison cell that’s stayed with me. That if I could forgive him maybe everything would be alright. I’m not sure if I forgive him, exactly, but I did not want him to die when Brian called to his door. I’ve become close to him. I know everything there is to know about him. He’s not just any person to me. In a weird way, he’s like family or something – we are connected.

  Things are changing for me now. Everything is becoming more abstract. So maybe Danny was right. If I can forgive him, maybe I can move on. Will everything be okay? I’m not sure if I even want to move on anymore. I want to stay with Robbie and Pam, no matter how painful it is not to be able to touch them, to speak to them, to tell them how much I love them.

  But no matter what happens, if I fade away completely, I’ll always be there. I can see that now – the best part of me is with them. With my brothers, my parents, with John. They often think what would Chris do? Like I’m their conscience or something. Whether I would or wouldn’t have done it in life doesn’t matter. It’s what my loved ones go by. That’s how I’m helping them, by being in their thoughts. I remain alive in their hearts. In Robbie’s heart. He’ll never know me but I am there, helping him make the right decisions. Of course, sometimes he won’t listen – he’ll fuck up, do good, do bad, worry, survive, laugh, mess up – but that’s okay too. That’s life.

  Pam is the only one who’s still completely clear to me now. I am still with them all but I can let them go. I can leave John with his new family. Him and Niamh doting over every tiny thing their little girl, Sarah, does. The care he takes in handling her and the pride he feels showing her off to everyone he meets. He will be happy, and that little child is the luckiest girl in the world.

  Brian and Tim will stay the same. They have always been the one constant in each other’s lives – and they will always be there for one another. Their friendship that I perhaps envied slightly in life is something I am so grateful for now. They’ll move on from this, they’ve already begun to. Tim patting Brian on the back for what he did and Brian thanking Tim for stopping him from going any further.

  I’m pulling away from my parents too, though I can still see how happy they look when they’re playing with Robbie. How happy Robbie is around them. He never stops laughing. I was extremely lucky to have them as my parents and now that is being passed on to my boy. Despite all that’s happened, what a happy child he is. What a wonderful job they’re all doing.

  Danny can move on too, I think. I see him standing by his father’s gravestone, saying goodbye. Promising that he will be a better man, that he wil
l do something good with his life. That he will make him proud.

  But Pam. I can’t let Pam go. Or maybe she can’t let me go. I’m with her all the time. Completely. I’ve never loved or wanted her more than I do now. I watched her cry herself to sleep the night after meeting Ger. I think of the many nights she’s gone to sleep like that. The many nights I have lain beside her without her knowing. She believes I’m completely gone, that there’s nothing left – if only she knew that I’m here for her in everything she does. That I watched her for days as she walked around aimlessly, lost, back to square one, as bad as she had been during the first weeks of my death. How I long to help her.

  Until it suddenly feels as if she is slipping away from me.

  At first, I can’t help but fight it, with all my soul clinging on to her like a last breath clings to life. But then a calmness follows. I can see her.

  Through the haze I can still see her. I can see her sitting on the couch in our living room. I can see her crying. I can see her turning over in her hand the small piece of paper given to her outside the supermarket. I can see her wiping away her tears. I can see her picking up the phone and dialling his number.

  Acknowledgements

  The final task of writing any book is to say thank you to people. This is something I have been looking forward to ever since getting a publishing deal. For me, I must start at the beginning. Carol Ryan, this book could not have been written without you. Thank you for your constant input, for being my first editor, for your help, your guidance. But above all else, thank you for your unrelenting support and for never once making me feel like I went on about this story too much. Despite the fact that it has been all I have been going on about for years. You are my world, my love. The greatest achievement of my life was meeting you.

  I had many early readers who gave me encouragement and told me that I was on the right track. Eamonn Shaikh, Stephen Ryan, Linda Ryan, Miriam Ní Fhathaigh, Joan and Eddie Gallen, Paraic O’Muircheartaigh, Rose and Donie Fitzpatrick, and Ed Flannery to name just a few. A particular mention to Jillian Bolger and Derek Landy for taking the time to work on early edits – their input was invaluable. Thank you to the former governor of Mountjoy Prison, John Lonergan, and to prison officer Terry Powell for the access and time you granted me. Huge sections of this book could not have been completed without it and without seeing first-hand the inner workings of the prison. The Irish Writers Centre is a wonderful resource for writers; thank you for the Novel Fair win and the vote of confidence you’ve given me.

  I grew up in a house full of storytelling. Thank you to my mam, Catherine, for telling most of them and for giving me a love of music, movies and books. I would not be a writer if it wasn’t for you. Thank you for your influence, for pushing me and for always believing in me. The enthusiasm you showed for this book or anything else I do is a constant lifeline that I am so lucky to be able to grab hold of. Thank you to the best man I know – my dad, Michael. Your artistic mind is an everlasting source of inspiration and ideas from which I am so grateful to be able to constantly draw. The support and guidance you give me in everything is as important to me as air; I could not live or succeed in anything without it. My brother, Mark, yours is a shoulder that I cry on, lean on and am lifted up by. I could not have written this book without having you as a role model. I wish there was a stronger word than support, because that word does not come close to conveying what you have shown me throughout my entire life, this book being no exception.

  I heard that Maeve Binchy once told a concerned writer that editors were a necessary evil that all writers must endure. Well mine was a necessary good. Thank you Noel O’Regan for your keen eye and dedication to the craft of writing. I will be forever grateful for your tireless effort and the input you put into this book to help make it a better one. Wendy Logue also put in countless hours to the edit of this book making sure no stone was left unturned, and it is all the better for it. Thank you so much to Deirdre Roberts at Mercier Press for first believing in this story. The whole team has been a joy to work with. Thank you Patrick O’Donoghue for getting behind this book, Alice Coleman for her wonderful design, and also to my proofreader, Monica Strina.

  And finally to my daughter, Bonnie; thank you for being a dream come true and for giving me one final push to make the dream of this book come true too.

  About the Author

  As well as being a writer, Kealan Ryan also works as an actor and film producer. He wrote and starred in the feature film Lift, which has won multiple international awards. The Middle Place was a winner of the Irish Writers Centre Novel Fair and is his first novel. He lives in north Dublin with his wife and daughter.