Some Girls Do

by Murphy, Clodagh

  ‘Will Sophie be there?’

  ‘Sophie, Olivia, Andy, Jamie – the whole gang,’ he said casually – perhaps too casually?

  ‘Well, have fun,’ she said, determined not to sound needy or paranoid. ‘I wish I could be there.’

  ‘I wish you could too. Hey,’ he said then, ‘why don’t you hop on a plane and come?’

  ‘Nah, I can’t,’ Claire said, happy he’d asked. He wouldn’t want her there if he had something to hide. ‘Wish Patrick a happy birthday for me.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And enjoy New York.’ A thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘Mark … is Sophie going to the wedding?’

  The moment’s silence on the line told her all she needed to know before he said, ‘Er … yes, she’ll be there.’

  ‘Oh. Well … have fun.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, subdued. ‘And when I come back I’ll organise a trip over to Dublin as soon as possible.’

  ‘Great! Looking forward to it.’

  When Thursday evening rolled around, she still couldn’t help feeling anxious at the thought of Mark being out with Sophie. There was no doubt in her mind that Sophie would go all out to win him back. She would just have to trust Mark not to let himself be won.

  ‘Luca hasn’t been around for ages,’ her mother said to her that evening, when they were watching TV together.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘No chance he’ll come over tomorrow, I suppose?’

  ‘No, I – I think he’s busy.’

  ‘Aw, that’s a shame. He’ll be missed.’ This was true. He was already a great favourite with Espie’s friends, who had been asking after him last Friday, obviously disappointed he hadn’t turned up.

  ‘Ah, well,’ her mother continued. ‘I suppose a guy his age has better things to be doing at the weekend than hanging around with a bunch of old fogeys.’

  Yeah, Claire thought sadly – like going out on the prowl.

  ‘And so do you. You should be off out with him. You know you don’t have to be here, don’t you? Not that we don’t love having you …’

  ‘I know. But I wouldn’t be out with Luca anyway.’ She sighed. Maybe she was kidding herself that they could be friends. Thinking back, he had been humiliatingly eager to get rid of her when she had called round to his flat after coming home from London. Besides, where would she fit into his life now? If his social life centred on picking up women for casual sex, she would only cramp his style. ‘Like I said, he’s busy. He’s doing a lot of work at the moment.’

  ‘Well, I hope he’ll still come to my birthday party next week. You’ll ask him again, won’t you?’

  ‘I will,’ Claire said, glad she had an excuse to ring him. If he was offhand with her, at least she could cover her embarrassment by saying her mother had insisted she call so she was only following orders.

  ‘I miss Luca,’ Espie said.

  ‘Me too.’ Claire sighed. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Hi, honey, I’m home,’ Claire called, as she let herself into the house the next evening. She had spent all day at work rehearsing her phone call to Luca and was resolved to make it as soon as she had finished helping her mother get the food ready for that evening’s gathering. In her more optimistic moments, she thought maybe she would even persuade him to come.

  She was greeted with silence. Her mother didn’t respond as she usually did, like a cheery fifties housewife, with some crack about having her martini ready or fetching her pipe and slippers. She was probably in the loo, Claire told herself, trying to shake the sense of foreboding that settled on her, but as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, she knew something was wrong. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the house felt different somehow. A thought came into her head: There’s nobody here.

  She raced to the stairs, her heart pounding as if she already knew. When she pushed open the door of her mother’s room, she found her lying on the bed, her head at a slightly awkward angle, her shoes kicked off on the floor beside her.

  It took a split second, and then it hit her like a series of punches to the solar plexus that kept coming, robbing her of breath, draining the strength from her muscles so she fell to the floor, every thought in her head reduced to a single word that repeated on a loop. No.

  The next hours passed in a blur of phone calls, tears and her brothers’ ashen faces as they turned up at the hospital. Later, the three of them went back to the house and Claire made tea. As she switched on the kettle, she noticed the bowl of raw cake batter on the worktop, the spoon abandoned as if mid-stir, and she realised that that was what she had seen when she came home, without registering it. On some subliminal level, she had noticed it and known that her mother was dead.

  ‘Do you want one of us to stay the night?’ Ronan asked her.

  ‘No,’ she whispered, pressing a tissue to her raw eyes. ‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Neil asked.

  ‘Yes. You should go home.’

  They all agreed there was nothing they could do for now, so they might as well go home and try to get some sleep.

  ‘We’ll be back first thing in the morning,’ Neil said, as they left.

  She had never felt so alone as she did when she had closed the door behind them. Already the house felt so empty, like the heart of it was missing – the thing that had made it home. She went into the living room and flopped onto the sofa, letting the tears roll down her face, too numb even to wipe her eyes with a tissue. She didn’t know how she’d ever have the energy to get up and go to bed. Maybe she should have got someone to stay, so she would be forced to behave in a more normal fashion. But suddenly she knew there was only one person she wanted now.

  She had been so afraid of calling him lately, but now she grabbed her mobile from her bag and dialled Luca’s number without a second thought. It didn’t even occur to her to worry that it was Friday night and he might be out.

  He answered quickly. ‘Hi, Claire.’ She tried to decide if he sounded distant or cold, but she couldn’t tell.

  ‘Hi.’ She took a deep breath, meaning to break the news gently, but then she just said, ‘Mum died tonight.’ Her voice broke on a sob, and then she was howling, unable to say any more.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Luca gasped. ‘Jesus, I’m so sorry.’

  She gulped, trying to control her sobbing so she could speak. ‘I was wondering if – if you could come over. If you can’t, that’s fine—’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll be there right away.’

  ‘Okay.’ She sniffed, tears coursing down her face. ‘Thanks.’

  She couldn’t settle to anything as she waited for Luca to arrive. She sat, she stood, she paced. She turned on the TV and turned it off again a few minutes later when she realised she was staring unseeingly at it. She was so agitated, she felt as if she would start clawing her own skin off if he didn’t turn up soon. When the bell rang, she raced to the door and threw it open, sobbing with relief when she saw Luca standing in the porch. She didn’t even say hello before she threw herself at him. His arms came around her, vice-like, and he lifted her off the ground, carrying her into the house and kicking the door closed behind them. Then they just stood in the hallway, clinging to each other. Luca held her so tightly, it was as if he was trying to pull her inside his skin.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked, when her sobs finally subsided. She drew back to look at him, and his eyes were shining with tears.

  ‘She had a heart attack. I came home from work and found her.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. There were streaks of red paint on his face, and his hands were covered with a motley assortment of blues and yellows. He must have been working and dropped everything as soon as she called.

  ‘Can you stay?’ she asked hoarsely, her throat raw from crying.

  ‘Whatever you want.’

  ‘I mean, stay the night – with me. As a friend …’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ He kissed her forehead.

  ‘Thank you.’

&nbs
p; She took his hand and they walked upstairs to her bedroom. It seemed to take Claire for ever to get undressed and into her pyjamas. Her limbs felt leaden and uncoordinated, as if she was drunk. Luca stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed beside her, pulling her into his arms and rubbing her back soothingly until she fell asleep.

  She woke early the next morning, and left Luca to sleep while she showered and dressed. Her head was already buzzing with all the things that needed to be done. She didn’t bother with breakfast, unable to decide whether she was hungry or not. She was having a cup of tea when her brothers and their wives arrived. Ronan and Neil were red-eyed, Michelle and Liz pale and drawn. No one looked like they’d had much sleep. Michelle gave Claire an awkward hug, which felt weird because Claire didn’t think they’d ever hugged before.

  Liz made tea and they all sat around the kitchen table to plan the funeral, making lists of what they needed to do. All the while, Claire kept expecting her mother to stick her head around the door and ask if they wanted a cup of tea or a piece of cake warm from the oven. She was jolted every time it hit her anew that Espie was gone.

  ‘I suppose Jim and that lot will want to play the music,’ Neil said, when they were discussing the finer points of the funeral.

  ‘Oh, I never thought of that!’ Claire said. ‘But, yes, I suppose they will. It’d be nice.’

  ‘As long as that mad old bat with the fiddle isn’t involved.’

  ‘Mary?’ Claire said. ‘If the others are playing, Mary has to join in. That’s what Mum would have wanted.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Neil argued. ‘Mum wasn’t tone deaf.’

  ‘That’s not the point. She loved Mary. She always let her play. You know Mum – she wouldn’t want anyone left out.’

  ‘Well, on your head be it.’

  ‘Hello.’ Everyone looked round as Luca came into the kitchen. There were a lot of raised eyebrows and furtive glances, all eyes shifting curiously from him to Claire.

  ‘You remember Luca,’ she said.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said to everyone, then crossed to Claire. ‘You should have woken me up,’ he said quietly, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

  ‘No need. Help yourself to anything you want for breakfast.’ She smiled weakly up at him.

  He went over to the worktop and flicked the switch on the kettle. ‘Does anyone want toast?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Michelle said. ‘We had breakfast at home.’ Liz, Neil and Ronan declined too.

  ‘Claire?’ Luca looked to her. ‘Toast? Scrambled eggs?’

  ‘No, thanks. I don’t want anything.’

  ‘He’s making himself at home, isn’t he?’ Michelle muttered, eyeing Luca suspiciously as he busied himself with the toaster.

  Claire said nothing. She didn’t feel like justifying his presence to anyone.

  ‘I thought I’d say a few words,’ Michelle piped up. ‘At the funeral – you know, a eulogy.’

  ‘Really?’ Even Neil was aghast at this announcement.

  ‘Yeah. I’d like to talk about Espie – what sort of person she was, what she meant to us all.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Liz asked her. ‘You and Espie didn’t exactly see eye to eye, did you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not denying we had our moments,’ Michelle said, with a tinkling laugh. ‘But sparks are bound to fly when two strong women are pushed together. We were very fond of each other, really.’

  ‘You were?’ Ronan frowned.

  ‘Of course! You know, I don’t think Espie really got me until the children were born. But she started to appreciate me after that, when she could see what a good mother I am. She was always telling me how much she admired my parenting skills. I think she was a little bit envious, if I’m honest, because she didn’t think she was a great mother herself. And she often said she wished she’d kept a record of the minutiae of her kids’ lives like I have in my column.’

  Claire gritted her teeth and said nothing.

  ‘I have lots of ideas already,’ Michelle said.

  She probably had the whole thing written in her head, Claire thought. Maybe she even had it filed away, like a newspaper obituary, just waiting for the opportune moment to whip it out.

  A few minutes later, Luca put a mug of hot tea in front of Claire, then sat beside her with his own mug and a plate of toast topped with scrambled eggs. He pushed the plate between them, and Claire reached out automatically and took a piece. The eggs were buttery and comforting, and as soon as she started eating, she discovered she was hungry.

  ‘This is really good, thank you,’ she said softly.

  Luca smiled at her in response.

  ‘You should have said you were hungry, Claire,’ Michelle said. ‘I’d have got you something.’

  ‘I didn’t know I was.’

  ‘Okay,’ Liz said, looking through her list, ‘so as soon as we’re ready, Neil and Claire will go to the funeral director’s and get the ball rolling. Ronan will talk to the priest and I’ll stay here and man the phones, let everyone know, and organise the caterers.’

  ‘Do you know where Mum’s will is?’ Neil asked Claire.

  ‘I’m not sure, but it’s probably in the safe.’

  ‘There’s no rush, but you should try to dig it out in the next couple of days.’

  Michelle poured herself more tea. ‘Of course the house will have to be sold,’ she said.

  Claire flinched, and Luca put an arm around her, scowling at Michelle.

  ‘Michelle!’ Neil chided, rolling his eyes in Claire’s direction.

  ‘I’m just saying! Sorry, Claire, I don’t mean to sound callous, but I’m only stating facts.’

  ‘We don’t have to think about that now,’ Ronan said, glaring at Michelle.

  ‘No, of course not. I’m just being practical. I mean, Claire knows the house is left between the three of you. I didn’t mean any harm,’ she said to Claire. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s fine,’ Claire said dully, clenching her fists under the table.

  ‘Sure, you won’t know yourself now you can have a bit of independence. Find yourself a nice little apartment somewhere.’

  ‘Yeah, brilliant,’ Claire whispered, wishing her mother was there to make one of her dry comebacks that would go right over Michelle’s stupid head. She couldn’t stop the silent tears that rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘You could even move to London, like you always planned.’

  Luca’s eyes darted to Claire, and he looked surprised.

  ‘Well,’ Neil said awkwardly, ‘if you’re ready, we should go to the funeral director’s.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll just brush my teeth,’ Claire said, anxious to be off. She had no will to fight, but she didn’t want to spend another minute with Michelle.

  ‘Anything I can do?’ Luca asked, as she got up to go.

  ‘No, there isn’t – but thanks. You don’t need to hang around here all day.’

  ‘I can come back tonight, if you like – stay with you again?’

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed, in relief. ‘I’d really like that.’

  On her way out to the car with Neil, she checked her bag for her mobile to make sure she had it with her. She was surprised to see she’d missed a couple of calls from Mark, and there was a message from him on her voicemail.

  ‘Hi, Claire, I know you probably don’t want to speak to me right now, but please ring me back when you get this. We need to talk. Just call me back, okay?’

  She frowned, perplexed. He sounded agitated. But why would he think she didn’t want to speak to him? He seemed to have decided she’d been deliberately avoiding his calls. It was almost as if he knew what was going on, but he couldn’t possibly. She rang him back in the car.

  ‘Claire,’ he answered immediately. ‘Thank you for calling me back. Look, all that stuff on—’

  ‘Mark,’ she broke in, ‘my mother died last night.’

  There was a moment’s silence. Then, ‘Oh, Christ, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.’

&n
bsp; ‘Yeah. That’s why I didn’t answer your calls. I only got your messages just now.’

  ‘What happened?’

  She went through the story once more, reciting it by rote.

  ‘Oh, Claire, I’m sorry. When’s the funeral? I could try and get back early –’

  ‘It’s on Monday, but don’t worry about coming. Really. So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. It’ll keep.’

  ‘Okay. Well … I’d better go. I’ve got a funeral to arrange.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Claire. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The day passed in a blur of arrangements, phone calls, visitors and endless cups of tea as people called to offer their condolences and to sit around reminiscing about Espie. Everyone brought food, and Claire was running out of space to store it all, the fridge groaning under the weight of lasagnes, quiches and casseroles, the worktops covered with cakes of every size and variety. Each time she had to talk about her mother, Claire started crying again, and she felt completely drained and exhausted by the evening, longing for the time when everyone would be gone and she could just curl up in bed with Luca.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ Michelle said, when she opened the door to Luca that evening, stepping back ungraciously to let him in.

  Claire’s other sister-in-law was in the kitchen, but everyone else seemed to have gone.

  ‘Where’s Claire?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s having a lie-down,’ Michelle said, and pursed her lips disapprovingly.

  ‘Okay. I’ll just … go up and see if she needs anything,’ he said, heading for the stairs.

  ‘I hate to say it,’ he heard Michelle whisper loudly as he left the room, ‘but I think Claire’s being a bit of a drama queen.’

  Luca stilled, one foot on the bottom step.

  ‘Well, her mother died,’ Liz said.

  ‘Yes, but she’s not the only one. Neil and Ronan lost their mother too and you don’t see them carrying on like that. I think she’s milking it a bit, making it all about her.’

  ‘It’s not a competition for who’s the most upset. Claire lived with Espie. They were very close. It’s only natural—’