The Carmel Sheehan Story

by Jean Grainger

  Over dinner, they discussed the party. She didn’t tell him about the encounter with Johnson; there had been enough upset for one day.

  As they tucked into Dhal Bhat, spicy lentils and chapattis, Carmel marveled at how her taste buds had changed. The first time Sharif made this dish, she thought she’d pass out it was so spicy, but over time, the flavours had grown on her and now she loved it. Irish food, while very tasty and flavoursome, didn’t go big on spices.

  ‘Well, this party is looking more like a gala event every time I overhear something. I know you want it low-key, and believe me, it’s considerably lower in key than what Zane had in mind first day. I don’t care, I’m dying to show you off to as many people as possible. It’s close to impossible to curb the enthusiasm of Zane I think, even Ivanka and Ivy are powerless in the face of his extreme party planning.’

  Carmel sighed, ‘I know. It’s a waste of time talking to him; I’m imagining Moulin Rouge with me appearing half naked on a swing if he got his way! I was talking to Oscar about it today. Before Julia turned up. He calmed me down about it anyway. It’s just a party, and they’re just people we know who want to wish us well. Joe is coming and he’s bringing Luke, Jennifer, and Jennifer’s husband and their baby. I’m half looking forward to it and half dreading it, to be honest; he texted that he’d told them, but what he told them I’ve no idea. And what if they think, “Who the hell is she, bursting into our lives” or whatever?’

  ‘Carmel, we’ve been over this. They’re coming, that must mean they want to meet you, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Or kill me. Julia came too, and look how that went.’ The ridiculousness of the entire situation made her laugh. Sharif joined in and within moments they were both laughing at the hilarity of her monosyllabic ex and his dreadful sister.

  Chapter 16

  ‘There. You look absolutely stunning.’ Ivanka was delighted with her work and smiled as she was packing away her brushes, potions, and lotions. ‘I’ll leave you to get dressed, so we’ll see you at the party.’

  She’d insisted on doing Carmel’s makeup. She really was talented, and when she finished, Carmel looked like a more polished and elegant version of herself. The creamy foundation made her skin look flawless. Her blue eyes were accentuated with smoky liner and gold and warm brown eye shadow, and much to Carmel’s initial horror, she had plucked and shaped her eyebrows, darkening them slightly. The effect was amazing. Carmel had drawn the line at cherry red lipstick, opting instead for a coral shade, and the whole effect was, she had to admit, much better than she could ever have imagined. She’d spent the afternoon at the hairdresser’s, having her blonde wavy hair done in an intricate up style, which swept the hair back from her face and twisted it loosely behind her head.

  She looked warily at her dress once more. It seemed perfect in the shop, but now she wasn’t so sure. It looked expensive, and it was. She’d never worn a silver dress in her life, and this one was clinging in all the right places, according to the sales lady, but Carmel feared it was too much. It was knee length but the skirt was split on one side, revealing some recently tanned leg. She pulled it on carefully, trying not to damage her hairstyle. She didn’t look in the mirror until the whole look was complete. The sandals were silver as well, strappy and high, and would probably be excruciating after an hour or two, but she loved them.

  When she was ready, she turned to face the slide robe floor-to-ceiling mirror. Even she had to admit she looked good. Not bad for a girl nobody wanted, she thought to herself. Sharif was going to be home any minute, his clothes were pressed and ready in the walk-in wardrobe. He was wearing a cream suit and an amethyst silk shirt. She’d bought him a lovely mauve handkerchief to complete the outfit. On anyone else, it might look a bit effeminate, but not on Sharif; he was tall and broad, muscular, and with no extra fat, and he looked exotic and beautiful when he dressed up. His silver hair contrasted so mesmerizingly with his dark skin, he sometimes took her breath away. Comparing him to Bill, sweaty and bulging out of his best suit, bought three decades ago, was impossible. Bill was like an old pig and Sharif like a sleek jaguar.

  ‘Oh, wow! You look amazing. Oh, Carmel, I always thought you were beautiful but you take my breath away.’

  She spun around to see him standing at the bedroom door; she had the radio on and didn’t hear him come in.

  ‘Is it okay? Not too…’

  ‘Not too sexy, or too glamorous, or too drop dead gorgeous? Yes, you’re all of those, and I’m going to be the proudest man on earth with you on my arm this evening. I’d kiss you but I’m afraid I’d smudge you…’ He just stood and gazed for a moment before he walked past her and called from the en suite, as he stripped off to shower before dressing. ‘By the way, the Kaivalya looks great. I stuck my head around the door as I came up; Zane has been there all day making sure it’s all perfect. Fresh flowers, sparkly lights, everything. We’ve brought in extra care assistants to help the patients who want to come get ready, and the band is tuning up nicely. It’s going to be a lovely party, really, don’t worry about a thing.’

  He stepped into the shower and began singing. She grinned. He really couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket but she loved to hear him belting out Bruce Springsteen numbers, even if the words were the only way to recognize them by Sharif’s off-key rendition.

  Despite her jangling nerves, she was kind of looking forward to the evening. She’d never even had a birthday party in her life, so this being her first-ever party in her honour, it was going to be something to remember. She wondered if Joe was here already, and what his children, her possible brother and sister, would be like.

  Twenty minutes later, they were walking hand in hand across the grounds. They could hear the music, and thankfully, it wasn’t deafeningly loud or techno as Zane had suggested, but a great 1940s swing band. The catering was all in place and neither of them had had anything to do with the planning. Even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t have been allowed to involve themselves in the logistics.

  They entered and were immediately greeted by everyone in the room. Wheelchairs were pushed, so some of the older residents could shake Sharif’s hand or give Carmel a kiss on the cheek. It took twenty minutes for the crowd to disperse and for them to get a drink. A smiling waitress offered them some champagne and they accepted gratefully just as the band leader announced,

  ‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, it appears the guests of honour have arrived, and I know you’ll all forgive me for deviating from the 1940’s vibe for a moment to venture into this number, sing along everyone!’

  The opening bars of Cliff Richard’s ‘Congratulations’ gave everyone the courage to sing along, and soon every guest was singing as Carmel and Sharif danced together in the centre of the room. As she looked into his eyes, he mouthed, ‘I love you,’ and she kissed him, causing whoops and cheers from the gathered crowd. Sheila and Kate looked fabulous in matching outfits, and they had made a special bird table for their courtyard, with love birds carved on it for them as a wedding present. Tim was there, and Carmel was delighted to see him. Zane was in his element, accepting compliments on the fabulous party and flirting outrageously with a member of the band. The atmosphere was magical.

  As the dance drew to a close, the crowd was calling, ‘Speech, speech,’ and Sharif took Carmel’s hand as he approached the stage. The lead singer handed him the microphone but Sharif looked questioningly at Carmel. ‘Ladies first?’ he whispered. Carmel paled at the thought of addressing all those people, but her need to thank them all and to publicly proclaim her love for Sharif outweighed her terror.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, trying to control the fluttering in her stomach and the dryness in her mouth. She took the microphone and squeezed it tightly, hardly daring to look up at the sea of expectant faces.

  ‘Em…I’ve never given a speech, so…em…forgive me if I make a mess of it but I…I just wanted to say thank you. To all of you here to celebrate with me and Sharif tonight. As most of you know, my birth mother, Dolly Mullane
, lived here at Aashna House, and was great friends with Nadia, Sharif’s mum, and indeed Sharif and his Dad as well, and somehow, through some strange twist of fate, I find myself here. Not alone that, but I have a life here, friends, a job, a home, and someone to love. I never had anything like that before. I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to Nadia for welcoming me like a daughter, to all of you, the patients and staff here at this very special place. To my great friends, Oscar, Ivy, Ivanka, and of course this party wouldn’t even be happening, let alone be the amazing extravaganza it is, without Zane, someone both Sharif and I agree is such a vital cog in this machine. I also have to thank one more person. He promised my mother that he wouldn’t stop looking for me, even after she died, and he didn’t. Despite being so busy here, and all his other commitments, he made the time to find me, and he showed me that there was a way to be happy, and more importantly that I was deserving of that, that I should be happy. He brought me here, he mended my broken heart and puts up with all my crazy insecurities. He’s made sure I’m not going to be a cuckoo anymore,’ she looked up into his eyes. ‘I love you, Sharif, and thank you for rescuing me.’

  He hugged her and held her tight as the crowd clapped and cheered.

  Then the band leader gave him the microphone.

  ‘I don’t really know how to follow that but I’ll keep it short. Dolly brought us together, she loved me and she loved Carmel, and as those of you who knew her know, she bore the pain of her daughter’s loss every day of her life. But she was great ‘craic’ as she, and now my soon to be wife, say. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be marrying this funny, kind, clever, beautiful woman. I adore her, as you all know, and I can’t wait to marry her. Thank you all for everything you have done for me over the years. Zane and the others have done a spectacular job, so eat up and drink up and enjoy yourselves.’

  As they moved away from the stage, Carmel spotted Joe sitting at a table with two others. He smiled and waved at her as she approached them. Sharif got waylaid by some friends but she didn’t mind, she wanted to meet them on her own anyway.

  ‘Carmel, you look absolutely lovely, really smashing. I can’t believe how much like Dolly you are, not that she was ever in such finery when I knew her.’ Joe hugged her warmly, ‘Now, this is Luke and that’s Jennifer. Lads, this is Carmel.’

  Carmel judged Luke to be in his early thirties, tall, thin, and kind of artsy looking. He was in frayed jeans and a grandfather shirt, over the collar of which curled his brown hair. He had an earring in one ear, a small silver hoop, and he stood up. He smelled of sandalwood as he gave her a huge bear hug.

  ‘Carmel, it’s great to meet you; Da is after telling us a bit about you and your background and that, but we’re looking forward to getting to know you better.’

  ‘Me too,’ Carmel smiled, instantly relaxed with him. Was this guy her little brother? It was mind blowing if he was. She then turned to Jennifer, tall like her brother, with short dark hair in a pixie cut, and blue eyes. She too was dressed very casually, in a tunic and leggings, and her face was perfectly heart shaped and very pretty. She looked nothing like Joe or Luke; she must take after her mother, Carmel guessed.

  ‘Hi, Carmel,’ her voice, though unmistakably Dublin, was gentle. ‘Thanks for asking us, it’s a lovely party.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, I…well…it means the world to me. Joe said your husband and baby were coming as well?’ She wondered where they were.

  ‘Oh, yeah, Damien is staying at the hotel with Ruari; he’s asleep by now. If we brought him here, you’d know all about it, I can tell you. He’s just crawling now, so nothing is safe.’ She grinned and Carmel relaxed. They seemed so nice, not out to kill her. As usual, Sharif was right.

  ‘Did you get a drink? Some food?’ she was anxious that they be looked after, especially after coming all that way.

  ‘We’re grand, fine altogether. Now, don’t feel you have to be minding us all night, right? Go off and enjoy your party. We might slip away soon just to get Jennifer back to Ruari, but maybe we could have lunch tomorrow?’ Joe was so understanding, he meant what he said, no strings, no pressure.

  ‘I would love that. Why don’t you all come round to us? I’ll make lunch and we can have a long chat and get to know each other properly.’ Carmel had the invitation issued before she had time to analyse it. Normally, she’d weigh up how likely they were to refuse and probably resist offering for fear of rejection. She smiled hopefully, glad she at least had the guts to ask.

  ‘Sounds great,’ Jennifer smiled, putting her head to one side. ‘Y’know, I know everyone says you look like your mother, and I’m sure you do, but I can see a bit of McDaid in you as well, can’t you, Luke?’

  ‘Yerra you know me, Jen, I can’t see resemblances in anyone. Sure, people tell me I’m the spit of the Da but I hope not, cause he’s a banjaxed auld fella and well, I’m in my prime!’ he laughed and nudged his father.

  ‘Go ‘way outa that, ya pup, I was in me prime once too y’know and I’d have left you in the starting blocks, I can tell ya that.’ He winked at Carmel as he took a long draught of his pint of Guinness, the barrel of which Zane had shipped from Ireland because British Guinness wasn’t the same stuff at all.

  ‘That’s great, I’ll ask Nadia as well, that’s Sharif’s mum, she’s lovely. I’m really looking forward to it.’

  ‘Me too.’ Joe sounded so sincere and she warmed under his gaze. ‘Now, go off and be chatting to all these people who’ve come to see you and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Have a great night, pet.’ He put his arm around her protectively for a moment and Carmel felt five-years-old again. She trusted this man, and she just knew, on some deep level, that he was a good person.

  Carmel kissed Joe on the cheek and went off to mingle. As she moved around the party, people complimenting her on how lovely she looked stopped her several times, and she was enveloped in a group hug by Zane, Ivanka, Ivy, and Oscar. They dragged her out on to the dance floor and she was soon bopping away to Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with her friends. The patients were all having a great time as well and the canapés being circulated by the waiting staff were delicious. She spoke to patients and their families, met Oscar’s partner who was just like him, so chilled out and happy, and Zane insisted on being introduced to Luke, despite Carmel saying she didn’t think he was gay.

  ‘With all due what’s it, Carmel darlin’, I think I’m the better judge of that sort of thing,’ he winked and dragged her back to Joe and his children.

  Carmel introduced them and went to look for Sharif; she hadn’t seen him since the speeches over forty minutes earlier. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and the music complemented nicely the lively buzz of chat in the room. Being so tall and with his distinctive hair, she could nearly always spot him in a crowd, but as she scanned the room, he wasn’t to be seen. Hoping nobody would notice, she stepped out into the corridor joining the Kaivalya to the main building, the silence was instant. All the doors in Aashna House were soundproof so the party noise didn’t spill out. Perhaps he’d got a call about a patient, she thought. She would just go to reception and check if he’d been called. Marlena was at the party, as were most of the regular staff, so there were several temporary and agency staff on duty. Sharif probably just wanted to check everything was okay.

  Reception was empty, most of the patients would be in bed by now, and a young man, presumably from the temp agency, was on the desk.

  ‘May I help, Madam?’ he asked politely.

  ‘Yes, I’m em…I’m Carmel, I work here. I was just looking for Dr Khan, has he been called to a patient?’

  The young man seemed uncomfortable. ‘Well, em, Dr Khan is with somebody at the moment, perhaps I can give him a message for you?’

  ‘A patient?’ Carmel sensed some reticence in the man’s answer.

  ‘No, Ma’am, not a patient, a family member, but I’m sure if you leave a message, I’ll make sure he gets it…’

  They both turned on h
earing raised voices coming from the office behind the reception desk. Suddenly, the door burst open and Derek Johnson emerged, ‘Well, let’s see what my solicitor has to say about you partying while my poor mother lay in her own filth, half starved. I’ve got photos, so don’t even try to deny it! You’re a crook and a criminal and I’ll see you pay for this, mark my words, you will pay…’ he barged past Carmel and out into the night.

  Carmel could see Sharif standing behind the desk in the office through the open door. Quickly, she went to him.

  ‘Madam, if you could just wait…’ the receptionist began, he’d clearly been given instructions not to disturb the doctor.

  ‘It’s okay, thanks, but it’s fine.’ She went into the office and closed the door.

  ‘What on earth was all that about?’ Carmel had never seen Sharif so shaken.

  He gazed at Carmel, then shook his head.

  ‘He’s claiming that when he came in to see his mother this evening, she was lying in sheets covered in excrement and blood, that she hadn’t been fed, that she was in mental and physical distress, and somehow, he has photos to back up his claim.’ He sat down heavily in the seat.

  ‘But that’s simply not true; I mean, it just couldn’t be. Mrs Johnson was fine when I popped in this afternoon.She’d just had her lunch. They were clearing it away when I arrived. I even remarked to her about the cottage pie, how I’d had it for lunch as well and how delicious it was. She smiled, the way she does you know, and seemed to understand. There’s no way that what he is claiming has a grain of truth.’

  Sharif sighed deeply. ‘I know that, and you know that but it’s our word against his, and he’s got photographs on his phone. I’ve seen them. She’s sitting in a wet, dirty bed, and she’s crying. It doesn’t matter what the truth is, what matters is how it looks. He’s threatening to take it legal, or go to the papers with his so-called evidence. He could destroy us, destroy me.’ He ran his hand over his jaw.