The Carmel Sheehan Story

by Jean Grainger

  ‘Well, if you’re unsure, then why not just see how it all goes? Maybe it will come out naturally or maybe it won’t, either way, you’ve got me and everyone here as back up. You are not alone.’

  ‘Maybe I should make myself scarce, I mean, it’s not really my place anyway to be there; we are related, but not in any way that his family would want to know about…’

  ‘Carmel, you work here. Of course, you can take some holidays if you like, I’m not saying it as the boss, but you have every right to be there as a member of Aashna House staff. If it helps, I spoke to his sister and she seemed very nice. She explained that Brian didn’t tell them he was ill. When I asked him about family visits a few weeks ago, he told me he didn’t want them fussing. His sister, Maggie, seemed to want me to understand that they hadn’t just abandoned him. Apparently, every time they would suggest visiting, he’d say he was away or busy and they couldn’t understand why he had rejected them. Joe, especially, was very hurt because they were always close. He texted and emailed and all of that, and he went back to Dublin before the cancer got too bad, but he wouldn’t allow them to visit him here. We had a really long chat and I never mentioned what he said, obviously, but I think the burden of knowing what he knew about Dolly and not being able to reveal it to his brother was hard for him to bear, but he made a promise to your mother and he was determined to keep it.’

  Chapter 12

  Carmel lit a candle in the living room and sat down, back straight and eyes open, taking a deep breath. She exhaled and tried to still her thoughts. It was the day of the funeral and she was still undecided whether to go. Maggie, Brian’s sister, and her husband Dominic had arrived from Ireland with the rest of the family the previous afternoon and checked into a local hotel. They came and spoke to Sharif and the undertaker in the evening about the arrangements, but Carmel stayed in their apartment.

  She tried to focus on her breath. If ever she needed direction, it was now.

  Part of her wanted to go out, to meet Joe, to tell him who she was and to ask him if he would consider a DNA test to see if he was her father. But, the bigger part of her was governed by fear. She tried to analyse it, fear of what? The answer was clear, fear of rejection. What if he told her to get lost, or worse still, resented her intrusion in his grief for his brother, and all of that, leaving aside the whole business of what his father did to Dolly. Every time she thought she had the guts to face them all, she was crushed by an icy wave of dread crashing over her head once again.

  Eventually, she decided to take Sharif’s advice. Just to go as a member of the staff and see what happened.

  She was dressed, in black trousers and a cream shirt, and her hair was brushed till it shone. Before she could start to analyse it again and dredge up all the associated fears, she grabbed her bag and went out the door.

  Approaching the chapel, she almost fled but forced herself to walk on. Sharif had offered to accompany her, but she needed to do this on her own. She wore no makeup and hoped her appearance was just neutral. The beautiful engagement ring he had given her was back in the apartment; she felt it was too flashy for a funeral.

  She debated stopping and introducing herself to the group standing chatting quietly outside the chapel, but she lost courage, so she just continued inside and took a seat at the back. Only the undertaker and the priest were inside, the coffin was outside in the hearse.

  The music began to play, and Brian’s family slowly walked in procession behind the coffin as it was pushed on wheels towards the altar. They took their seats at the top of the small chapel and Carmel fixed her gaze on Brian’s sisters and brothers, all sitting on the front pew. Behind them were close to twenty other people, wives, husbands, and children, she assumed. She smiled at how Irish they all looked, even the number of people was Irish. She had been saddened at first when she came to England to note how few people went to funerals. She had explained to Zane and Ivy that funerals were as big as weddings in Ireland, bigger often because no invitations were issued. Anyone who had even the most tenuous of connections went, and those who were connected to the family of the deceased too. Colleagues, old school friends of the dear departed’s grandchildren, almost everyone in the town or village if it was in the country, everyone went. Back in Birr, she and Bill went to every single removal or funeral in the whole town. It would have been considered the height of disrespect not to. The family was propped up emotionally by their community for a long while afterwards, so the much more understated English system was a mystery to Carmel.

  Carmel’s heart went out to the McDaid family, they were like fish out of water over here. Back at home, because there was a protocol, a way of doing death, everyone knew what to do. In Ireland, it was as if when someone died, a switch got flicked and the age-old process just cranked into action. Each person knows his or her part, and people are comforted by that. Over here, in this strange country, the McDaids were lost.

  Fr. Watson, the local Catholic priest, said the funeral Mass, and the familiar words soothed Carmel’s frantic spirit. She felt such a barrage of emotions as she sat there, fear, guilt at not focusing properly on Brian, comfort from the words of the liturgy, all underpinned by a longing for her mother. Brian’s nephew Daniel gave a short but heartfelt eulogy. The hymns were traditional, Brian’s own choice, and played on the elaborate sound system in the church. The priest blessed the coffin, sprinkling it with holy water as he intoned the prayers of death.

  ‘Into your hands, we commend our brother Brian. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on him forever, may he rest in peace.’

  It wasn’t until Carmel stood and the undertaker was arranging with the McDaid brothers and nephews to carry the coffin on their shoulders, that she noticed she was not alone at the back of the church. Tim was behind her.

  The Mass ended, and the men in the family carried Brian out to the hearse once more. As they passed, the women were silently weeping, the men stony faced. Of the two older men, one was by far the taller of the two, so she assumed him to be Joe. The only photo she had, taken all those years ago on Dollymount Strand, showed him as towering over Dolly.

  Outside in the sunshine, Carmel felt awkward and stood with Tim, slipping her arm through his. She knew he was stoic, but this was killing him. The nephew who gave the eulogy approached them.

  ‘Em…I don’t know who ye are, but obviously my uncle meant something to you both, so we’d be happy to have you come with us to the crematorium, and afterwards to the hotel for a bit of lunch?’

  Tim recovered first, ‘Thank you, that’s very kind. We’d love to.’

  Carmel squeezed his arm in a gesture of solidarity. This was his life partner and yet the last act of Brian’s life had Tim playing a bit part, it was so hard.

  The cremation was short. Fr Watson said a few more prayers, and the family looked awkward. Cremation was very rare in Ireland, and Carmel guessed it was their first time attending one. The whole ceremony went by as a blur. Thoughts of introducing herself to Brian’s family, Joe, in particular, were petrifying. Should she just say she was working there, and since she was Irish, she felt she should go? Or should she admit that she and Brian had been friends, or could she just let Tim introduce himself and let them assume she was something to do with him? To her shame, she wasn’t thinking about Brian at all as his coffin slid behind the screen; she was panicking about how to get out of the situation. All the calming, mindful thoughts of this morning were gone and, in their place, terror.

  ‘Have you ever met any of them?’ Carmel whispered to Tim as the family huddled together around the door of the crematorium.

  ‘Never. Brian didn’t want them to know about us; he wanted to protect me and my life, so he lived a lie all these years for me. By the time it was okay for us to say what we meant to each other, it was too late, too much time had passed, too much had been left unsaid, too many lies told. So, when he went home, he went alone. Anytime he had a visitor from Ireland, which was rare, I made myself scar
ce. It must seem odd to someone of your generation, everyone is so open nowadays, but it just wasn’t like that in our day, and well, we’re bad with change, at least we were, it’s just me now, I suppose.’

  Carmel gave a wry grin, ‘I didn’t have the liberal upbringing you imagine I had, Tim, nothing like it, so I totally understand.’

  Daniel approached them and it took Carmel everything she could do to stay on the spot, the urge to flee was so strong.

  ‘So, ye’ll come down to the hotel, will ye? The Davenport it’s called. We can do proper introductions there. We’ve a few taxis coming, so ye can jump in with us or if ye have yer own car?’ He was a handsome young man, and his open, honest face drew a smile from Carmel.

  ‘Yes, we have a car, we’ll see you there.’ Tim squeezed Carmel’s arm to his body, murmuring into her ear as they made their way to the car park. ‘We’re going to need to stick together on this one, my dear.’

  ‘Carmel!’ She turned to see Sharif striding towards her. ‘Hello, Tim.’ He shook the other man’s hand, they hadn’t met since Brian died. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’

  Tim nodded. ‘I didn’t know it would be that night, I left earlier than usual and I had a hospital appointment myself early the next morning, and I…’ Carmel held his arm as the emotion choked him, ‘I…I wanted to be with him, but he said he didn’t want me to remember him like that, so we agreed…’

  ‘He wasn’t alone. Carmel was with him, and so was I. He had a very peaceful death.’ Sharif was soothing.

  ‘He wrote me a letter and put it in a box, to be opened when he died, along with some things that were of sentimental value to us, little souvenirs and things, but the letter…he never was a very publicly effusive man, neither am I, we weren’t brought up that way. Maybe people nowadays would say we were a bit stuffy, or formal or whatever, but it worked for us. But this letter, it was everything we felt but never said, he wrote it all. I would have liked the chance to tell him I felt the same.’ Tim was struggling to maintain his composure.

  ‘He knew.’ Carmel was sure of it.

  ‘So, where are you going now?’ Sharif was trying to lighten the mood, he knew that breaking down would only embarrass Tim.

  ‘To the hotel, the Davenport, the family have invited us for lunch.’ The dread that Carmel felt was clearly visible on her face.

  ‘Do they know? The family, I mean…who you…or Tim for that matter, do they know who you are?’ Concern furrowed his smooth forehead.

  ‘No, no they don’t have a clue who either of us is.’ Carmel chewed her lip, a habit she’d had since childhood.

  Tim recovered and gave a lopsided grin, ‘We’re debating which of us should explain first.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ he was talking directly to Carmel now, ‘Would it help?’

  ‘But your patients, they need you this afternoon surely…’ Carmel desperately wanted him there but felt guilty taking him away.

  ‘Well, I didn’t know how today was going to go, so I got a locum in anyway. Dr Alexander, the patients are used to her, she often covers for me, so I’m free to go with you if it would help, but if you’d rather do this alone, then I understand, of course.’

  She looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. ‘I’d love you to come.’

  Chapter 13

  Sharif drove them all, Tim was too shaken to drive. They found a parking space, and Carmel and Tim got out, leaving Sharif to make a quick phone call.

  ‘What are you going to say?’ he sounded as scared she was.

  ‘I don’t know, I can’t decide. How about you?’

  ‘Not the truth anyway, that’s for sure. Just that we were friends, he was my lodger, something like that I suppose.’ The sadness at not just the grief of losing the love of his life, but the fact that he had to deny the importance of their relationship was really hurting him, it was plain for anyone to see.

  ‘Okay, are we ready?’ Sharif bipped the alarm on the car and gently put his hand on the small of Carmel’s back.

  ‘Yes, well no, actually, not at all ready, but if we are going to do this…’

  Before they had a chance to compose themselves, Brian’s sisters Maggie and Orla approached them.

  ‘Hello, Dr Khan, it’s very good of you to come. I’m Maggie and this is my sister Orla, Brian’s brothers Colm and Joe are inside, along with some of our kids. Daniel said you two were friends of Brian’s?’ Her open face radiated friendliness and welcome even in the midst of her obvious grief at the loss of her brother.

  ‘Yes, Tim O’Flaherty, Brian used to live in my house.’ Tim extended a hand and Maggie took it warmly. She was short with iron grey hair and was, what Julia would have called, ‘a victim of middle age spread.’ A fate that was never likely to befall the angular Julia. Maggie was dressed all in black, but Carmel got the impression she was uncomfortable in the dress, jacket, and tights. Orla was the opposite, very glamorous, with expensively cut and highlighted hair and a well-cut trouser suit. She seemed more wary than her sister, despite the smile.

  Both women looked expectantly at Carmel.

  ‘I’m Carmel,’ she didn’t want to use her mother’s surname in case they recognized it, but she couldn’t bring herself to call herself Carmel Sheehan one more time. ‘I work at Aashna House and I got to know Brian there, what with us both being Irish,’ Carmel finished in a rush, desperate to get the words out.

  ‘You look very familiar, I can’t place from where, but I feel as though I know you from somewhere.’ Orla’s brow furrowed, ‘I’ve thought it since I saw you in the chapel. And you’re Irish, where did you go to school? Maybe we were in the same one?’

  ‘I…ah…I went to school in Dublin, city centre, but Brian said you were from Kilmainham, didn’t you go there?’ Carmel was anxious to deflect this line of questioning.

  ‘Yes, we went to Inchicore National School and then to St Jarlath’s in Ballyfermot.’ Orla was clearly racking her brain.

  ‘Well, I didn’t go to either of those; I think I just have one of those faces, people are always saying I remind them of people.’ Carmel’s laugh sounded fake even to her own ears.

  Sensing her discomfort, Sharif interrupted, ‘Shall we go in?’ Both Maggie and Orla responded instantly to his charm and turned towards him like sunflowers.

  ‘Of course, Dr Khan, it’s so good of you to come along.’ Maggie recovered enough to lead the little group in.

  ‘Sharif, please,’ he smiled as he held the door open for the three ladies. Carmel caught his eye and gave him a look of thanks.

  The introductions were made, and nobody seemed to bat an eyelid at the three extra for lunch. The chat was lively and the family even burst into spontaneous laughter on occasion. Despite their pain and genuine loneliness for their brother and uncle, the lunch really was a celebration of a life well lived.

  After the main course, waitresses were taking tea and coffee orders, Joe stood up and dinged his spoon off his wine glass, and the family settled down. Carmel’s mouth went dry and she was transfixed. Was this man her father? He was tall with grey hair cut short, and an athletic build. She thought he looked in good shape for a man of sixty plus years. His blue eyes were exactly the same colour as hers, and Dolly’s eyes were brown.

  He waited until everyone was silent and then he spoke. His voice was gentle, and he had a real Dublin accent, just like Brian had.

  ‘Family and friends of my late brother Brian, I just wanted to say a few words. As most of you know, burying Kevin two years ago was a very low time for all of us, and we are really happy that Kevin Junior and Ciara can be here with us, it means a lot. Brian was the eldest of the McDaids and in lots of ways, more ways than he should have been actually, he was the father figure. He was kind and always had time for any one of us, no matter what we ever needed. There was a time when I was a young man that I thought my heart would break, but it was Brian who held me together. When Mammy died, when Kevin was taken from us so early, when the engagements
happened, or babies were born, the first thing we did was tell Brian. When he left Ireland, it left a huge hole in all our hearts, but we were glad to see he had a happy life over here. He came home often, laden down with presents every time, and he was always welcome. He texted and emailed us all the time, so he never felt too far away.

  I want, on behalf of the McDaid family, to extend a warm welcome to Dr Khan, who is with us here today, and to whom we all owe a great debt. He looked after Brian in the closing weeks of his life, he respected his wishes and maintained his dignity, while at the same time giving him the benefit of expert care. He emailed me a week ago and told me all about you Doctor, how he never suffered, physically or mentally and for that, Dr Khan, we are so grateful.’

  Sharif nodded and smiled, and Carmel squeezed his hand under the table. She knew he wasn’t comfortable with accolades, he was a true doctor, just wanting to help people.

  ‘Welcome as well to his fiancée, Carmel, who is a Paddy the same as ourselves,’ a ripple of laughter, ‘I understand that you had some nice chats with Brian in his last days, and we are glad that he had someone from home to talk to.’

  ‘Finally, we want to say thank you and welcome to Tim O’Flaherty, who was a great friend to Brian during all his years over here. Tim, there’s a bed for you in Dublin anytime you like. Brian never told us how ill he was, and he didn’t encourage visitors, but we never doubted what we meant to him, and I pray that he knew how much he meant to us too. Thanks.’

  He sat down to thunderous applause. Then Daniel stood up, ‘Raise your glasses to Uncle Brian. Hip hip…’ the gathered group answered ‘hurrah’ and once again, the lunch became a jovial affair.

  Carmel chatted with one of his nieces, Colm’s daughter Aisling, and she was so funny and refreshing, telling stories of the shenanigans of her uncles and aunts when they all got together. They sounded like such a happy family, and the cousins were clearly all good friends. Carmel wondered what it would be like to grow up like that, so happy and loved and surrounded by your people, to know that you were part of something.