Aftermath

by Joanne Clancy

  Hope often couldn't believe how caring and patient he could be. Her hair tended to become impossibly knotted and tangled in the sun and salt water. She had put off brushing it, simply washing it and tying it in a tangled knot on top of her head, but the time came when she had to comb it. It hurt and stung her very badly. She had tears of pain and frustration in her eyes when Niall decided to rescue her.

  “What's up?” he asked, his face full of concern at her obvious distress.

  “I can't get these bloody knots out of my hair!” she cried. “They're so annoying.”

  “Follow me,” he took her hand and led her back to the beach. Then he coated her hair in an intensive conditioning treatment and began to gently and patiently comb each strand until her hair was sleek and smooth again. It took him almost two hours to detangle her hair; so kind, gentle and loving he was towards her.

  The holiday to Barbados brought them much closer. It was a sort of test in a way, without them even realising it. Hope had experienced infatuation and lust before but after their holiday she knew they had something very special. Passion can come and go, but Hope believed that she and Niall were made for each other. He was her soulmate and forever love.

  During the following months they travelled back and forth between Cork and London. Much of Niall's work was based in London and Hope's career was based in Cork, so they did their best to fly to each other as much as possible. They had both made an effort to cut back on their work commitments a little, especially Niall who had begun to learn the art of delegation. He realised that he didn't have to be at every important meeting and that he needed to trust his employees to do the job they'd been hired to do. He still worked, of course, but his pace was a little more leisurely. They spent their days exploring the city; taking long walks in the parks and visiting museums and art galleries, shopping and discovering new restaurants.

  When they returned home to Cork, they spent their free time at Hope's apartment where they had made an art of doing nothing. He loved to cook her dinner and she insisted on making him breakfast, which usually consisted of nothing more than a black coffee with one sugar!

  “I think you've gotten off lightly here, missy,” he would sometimes tease her. “I spend my time slaving over a hot oven to cook you exotic dinners and all you have to do is bring me a coffee in the morning.”

  “It's a very special coffee, made with a very special ingredient,” she would smile flirtatiously in response.

  “Really? What might that special ingredient be?”

  “Love.”

  Every moment they spent together was full of life and love. Even the simplest things were special; rides on the motorbike, cooking dinner, drinking copious cups of tea. Hope had never experienced anything like it with anyone else; to be so close to someone over the simplest things in life. It was pure joy and love. They complemented each other on many levels. They could be silly, sophisticated, philosophical, spiritual and passionate. Everything they did together clicked.

  They had crowded so many wonderful things into their brief time together, each with its own particular significance. Hope didn't want to forget any of them.

  Niall always made her feel so special, like she was the most important person in his life. He loved to spoil her and her thirty-fourth birthday was no exception. She landed at London Heathrow Airport and he said he'd arrange for a driver to pick her up as he was going to be delayed at work. She went through customs, grabbed her bags and passed through the arrivals doors. Standing at the kerb, beside their limousines were uniformed drivers holding up signs for their clients. Hope searched for her name and spotted one of the drivers who had his hat pulled down low over his face. She almost kept going and then she saw his sign. It read “Hope Gilligan.” She looked more closely at the driver and this time she saw it was Niall, all dressed up in uniform! She could not stop laughing all the way to their hotel. He never failed to make her laugh and oh how she missed him.

  Their hotel was beautiful, especially the garden, which was filled with rows and rows of fragrant purple lavender. The food was out of this world; with select cheeses and fine wines. Hope could live on bread and cheese, the wine she left for Niall to enjoy.

  When they were together, they created their own little world; a special space that only they occupied. Whenever the stresses and strains of their lives threatened to overwhelm them, they talked about returning to their “bubble.”

  Their favourite place for rest and relaxation was in County Sligo in the Northwest of Ireland. It was one of the most amazing places they'd ever seen and it was almost on their doorstep. They loved to stay at a secluded guest house which was located at the edge of a steep cliff and offered spectacular views of the Atlantic Ocean and the mountainous valleys in the far distance. Somehow it seemed as if the guest house was integrated with the landscape; unusual and very beautiful. Once they hired a helicopter for the afternoon from which gave them a bird's eye view of the amazing textural changes in the terrain. The different layers have been altering since the Ice Age and the topography has to be seen to be believed.

  There was so much to see and do in Easkey; from surfing the huge waves to cliff-top walks and of course freshly caught fish to be devoured in the evenings. It is a timeless place of incredible tranquility and outstanding natural beauty. Nothing is rushed there. It was the perfect spot for Niall and Hope's little “bubble.”

  Every day they had their own little adventure. They went on a trip to an open farm where the farmer kept sheep and goats and they learned how to make their own goat's cheese. Everything was done by hand. First they milked a goat, and then the milk was left to thicken for a few days. When the milk was thick enough, they reached into the bucket, grabbed a hunk in their hands and squeezed out the excess water. Then they took what was left and placed it carefully into a metal ring on a large cooker. They pressed the cheese into the ring and when the ring was full, they sprinkled it with salt and put a clean stone on top to weigh the cheese down. Hope was so proud when she saw the results of her labour. Of course, the cheese should have been aged, but they didn't have the patience to wait and devoured it in one sitting. It was absolutely delicious.

  The evenings in Easkey were just as magical as the days. The sky was so full of stars that it took their breath away. They studied the heavens through a telescope and saw a comet crash and burn. It was awe-inspiring to be up close and personal to nature and both of them were transformed by the entire experience. Hope wondered now, when she thought back on that magical time, if the comet was indeed a warning sign of the bad luck that lay in her future.

  Hope trusted Niall implicitly. She felt she could tell him anything and trust him with her innermost secrets, but there was one secret that she was too ashamed to share with him. Everything was so wonderful between them. They had learned to balance their work with their personal lives and yet there was a small dark cloud hanging over them, something about which Niall knew nothing. Hope didn't realise herself how dangerous a situation she had gotten herself into.

  It was imperative to her career that she kept her figure neat and trim, but the older she got, the more difficult she found it to maintain. It seemed that no matter how much she watched her portion sizes or how long she exercised she was fighting a losing battle with her weight. She wasn't anorexic or bulimic; she never starved herself or threw up to stay slim, but she did do something and she started doing it just before she met Niall.

  Slowly, he started to notice that something wasn't quite right with her. She could feel him keeping a watchful eye on her, but he never actually said anything to her directly, until the day finally arrived when he decided to step in.

  They were out in Cork, at their favourite restaurant, Chez Jacques, enjoying a divine meal. It was time for dessert. Niall adored desserts, especially cheesecake. He had an insatiable sweet tooth. Hope had never known anyone to devour so much chocolate and sweet food and still not gain a pound! The waiter brought them the dessert menu and Hope studied it intently. Hope always
looked but rarely let a dessert past her lips. She tried to absorb the taste simply by looking. Actually, her way of tasting the flavours was by kissing Niall; that was the best diet, in her opinion; no calories but oh so delicious!

  Anyway, the waiter asked them what they wanted and Niall ordered chocolate profiteroles; his favourite.

  “And for you, madam, what would you like?” the waiter asked, standing by with his notebook, pencil poised to take her order.

  “Oh, no, nothing for me, thank you,” she laughed. “I try not to eat desserts.”

  Niall watched her closely. “Well, if you were eating dessert, what would you choose?” he asked, a wicked glint in his eye.

  “I'd have to have the chocolate brownies with warm chocolate sauce,” she answered without any hesitation.

  “I see,” Niall winked at the waiter as he handed him their menus.

  The waiter disappeared for a while and returned with a mountain of chocolate profiteroles and the chocolate brownies. He laid the plates carefully on the table in front of them and Niall immediately began to tuck in.

  “This is like torture!” Hope cried, staring longingly at her dessert, inhaling the heady scent that wafted towards her.

  “It doesn't have to be torture,” Niall grinned, in between mouthfuls of his dessert. “Why don't you just take a teeny tiny spoonful?” he suggested.

  “I really shouldn't,” but she picked up a spoon anyway and began to nibble at the luxuriously thick, decadent chocolate dessert. She closed her eyes and sank into the pleasurable taste.

  She decided to start allowing herself to enjoy small bites of delicious food from then on. She thought she could get away with it because of what she was secretively doing to counteract the excess calories. She was taking laxative capsules that contained aloe vera and flaxseed oil but many other harmful ingredients too. The capsules were very potent and she was taking them every day. The pills took everything out of her. She would feel drained and weak afterwards and it would often take her a few hours to recover. The positive side for her was that she immediately felt lighter but in her ridiculous head she assumed that meant she was losing weight, which she wasn't; she was messing up her stomach and digestive system.

  Niall noticed her prolonged disappearances to the bathroom; particularly after a meal. He didn't say anything for a long while, but after one particular episode she seemed very lethargic.

  “Is everything alright with you, Hope?” he asked her, studying her face. His expression was full of concern.

  “I'm fine, absolutely fine. It's just this medication I'm taking. It makes me feel a little ill sometimes,” she replied, with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “What sort of medicine?” he persisted.

  So she explained to him how it had all started. She'd started taking the medication innocently enough. Occasionally, with her hectic lifestyle, she suffered with constipation and after some research online she'd discovered that an aloe vera juice drink helped to alleviate the problem. However, the juice had to be refrigerated, which wasn't always practical as she was usually away from home from early morning until late at night. When an acting colleague had suggested she try using laxatives, she'd jumped at them.

  Niall listened in silence as she told him everything. “Laxatives are extremely dangerous,” he said eventually. “It explains why you seem so drained lately.”

  He tried not to nag her but instead he began to research laxatives and their side-effects on the internet. He printed out his findings and gently talked to her about what the implications might be and of the potential dangers of taking the pills on a long-term basis. He'd talk a little about it, then he'd change the subject and then, very casually he'd mention it again. Not once did he demand that she stop taking them; he simply guided her away from the problem. Niall was a skilled strategist; something of course at which he'd had plenty of practice.

  Niall's advice began to sink in and Hope decided to go to her doctor for help. The doctor explained that what she was doing was both dangerous and futile. He explained that, since the calories had already been absorbed by her body, all that the laxatives were doing was taking away the nutrients; which was the main reason she felt so drained. He also told her that taking laxatives on a long-term basis can lead to kidney failure, irregular heartbeats and even worse; a heart attack! Taking them, could in fact be fatal. The doctor suggested that she gradually wean herself off the pills by substituting a natural fibre in their place, which she did immediately. Thanks to Niall, she began a new, cleaner, healthier regimen and she would be forever grateful to him for that. She had so many happy, beautiful memories of him. They’d shared so much love and now she was having his baby and she had no idea where he was.

  Nobody knew where he was. The last piece of information she knew for certain was that he was in Japan at the time the tsunami struck, but she had no idea if he was dead or alive. The day she found out about the tsunami she and her mother had flown to Japan and searched for him. They'd spent weeks there; searching every hospital, every shelter, asking anyone who'd speak to them if they'd seen him. They printed posters and hung them everywhere, but it was no good. Nobody knew anything.

  Eventually, they'd returned home and waited. She had nightmares of him having amnesia and not remembering where he was or who he was or what had happened. It killed her to imagine how alone he would be feeling without her. Would he remember her even if she could find him?

  She would never forget that fateful day in March for as long as she lived when the devastating news and horrendous pictures filtered through. There were news flashes on the television and radio networks and amateur footage of the killer wave on the internet as it wreaked its devastating destruction, wiping out homes and entire villages.

  She'd started to panic when she'd tried calling Niall's telephone number over and over again and there was no answer. The phone lines were dead, destroyed by the tsunami. She began to scour the internet for information and felt sick as she scrolled through reports of a ten metre wave destroying the town where Niall was staying. Fearing the worst, she cried constantly and was unable to eat or sleep for days. There were many messages being exchanged on Twitter and Facebook about what was happening out there. Survivors were giving their accounts to the media who descended on the place within hours. Not knowing was unbearable. She needed to know, at least then she could grieve, but there was no sight or sound or trace of Niall.

  Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful slumber, dreaming of her husband as she so often did lately. She dreamt of when he'd taken her for a ride on his motorbike. She'd wrapped her legs closely around his and pressed her body against him. They'd taken off at top speed. There was an exhilarating feeling of energy, excitement and closeness tingling through her entire body. The wind was in her face and she was leaning into him; like they were one being. It was an amazing, incredible day, as if a new life was opening for both of them and they could both feel it.

  He'd taken her to his favourite pub for lunch and they'd ordered fish and chips with two huge glasses of refreshing orange juice. She couldn't eat much, just a few chips, because of the butterflies of excitement in her stomach. She couldn't stop gazing at him, staring into his eyes, getting lost in his deep baby blues. He didn't eat much either; he must have been nervous too.

  Eventually, they left their meal and wandered outside for a walk. The sun was shining and the flowers and grass smelled so fresh. They walked and talked. She loved talking to him. He was the best listener and made her laugh all the time. They lay on the grass, under the warm sun. He leaned close to her and she welcomed his embrace with open arms. They were lost in each other's arms for almost an hour. It was gentle, passionate and beautiful, the longest kiss she'd ever known. They'd opened and closed their eyes but they'd never left the sanctuary of each other's arms and that kiss. Hope never could describe the ecstasy of that moment. Lying there in the grass with the sun coming through the branches of the trees; dappling their cheeks with warmth, hearing the sound of th
e wind rustling the leaves, listening to the distant voices of children playing, it was perfect. She felt such a sense of peace and happiness.

  She woke up smiling and for the briefest of moments believed that she was lying in the grass with her beloved once again, but then the harshness of her reality came flooding back and she remembered. He was gone, maybe gone forever.

  Chantale burst into her daughter's bedroom, making Hope almost jump out of her skin.

  “I think you need to see this, darling.” Her face was ashen and she was visibly shaking. Hope had never seen her mother in such a state.

  A terrible shiver of dread ran through her. “Mama, please tell me,” she said, struggling out of bed.

  “I can't, you have to see for yourself.” Her mother reached out her hand to her daughter and helped her to the living room.

  The laptop was positioned on the kitchen counter where it had been for the past few months. It stayed on day and night as Hope and Chantale constantly searched for any news on Niall and information on the tsunami. Even now, there were reports of survivors being found all these months later. Hope prayed that somehow, someday Niall would be among those survivors.

  “What is it mother?” Hope asked, beginning to lose her patience. She had enough on her mind without having to deal with her mother's amateur dramatics.

  “You need to watch this.” Chantale pulled out a chair for her daughter and turned the computer towards her. There was a Youtube video paused on the screen in front of her. Chantale pressed play and wrapped her arms around Hope as they watched.

  A woman who Hope had never seen before was holding a photograph and asking if anyone knew anything about her missing husband. She explained that he'd been lost in the Japanese tsunami and that she and her daughter had survived but that they hadn't heard anything about him since. The video lasted less than three minutes and at the end the woman gave her contact details.