The Carmel Sheehan Story

by Jean Grainger

  Carmel let it go, but something about the way Nadia had deflected the question made her think. The whole thing would be ‘a bit Jeremy Kyle,’ as her friend Zane was prone to say, referring to the trashy reality TV show where people found out about the paternity of their children or revealed affairs on live television. Her dad and Sharif’s mother getting together might look a bit odd, but if life taught Carmel anything, it was that you needed to seize opportunities for happiness and love wherever and whenever they came along. If Nadia liked Joe and he felt the same, why shouldn’t they enjoy a relationship? It would certainly explain Nadia’s reaction to Zeinab’s flirting.

  Joe was single and had been since Mary died. He was a good-looking man, Carmel could see that, fit and well-built, and he was a charmer, no doubt about it, but not in a sleazy way. He was just a great laugh, and he saw the bright side of everything. The way he’d immediately embraced her and took her into his life as his daughter was a testament to the kind of man he was.

  And Nadia was like a mother to her, as much as she was to Sharif. She and Dolly had been so close, they talked about almost everything, and shared so much, it was as if Nadia could bring Dolly alive for her daughter and she did, sometimes in glorious Technicolor. By all accounts, Dolly was larger than life, full of energy and mischief. Nobody but Nadia, Khalid and Sharif knew the heartache that lay beneath the jovial exterior.

  If a relationship between Nadia and Joe was something they both wanted, then Carmel was going to do her best to make sure it came about.

  Chapter 15

  Over coffee and after a delicious dinner in the hotel with the whole group, Sharif whispered in her ear, ‘A nightcap in our room?’

  She loved that while he was a sociable man and chatted easily with everyone, his favourite thing to do was spend time alone with her.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she whispered back.

  They made their excuses and left the gang to it. Zeinab had been monopolising Joe all evening, and Nadia was doing her best to ignore it. She sat beside Jennifer and Damien and heard all about their plans for the extension and the new baby.

  Sharif had bought a lovely bottle of gin in duty-free, and he arranged ice, lemon and tonic to be sent to the room. He made them both a drink while Carmel removed her makeup and slipped into her pyjamas.

  Handing her the gin and tonic, he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. ‘I miss you. It feels like there’s always people around. I’m glad to have you all to myself for once.’

  She put her drink down, placed his beside it, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  The old version of her would never have taken the initiative, but she was getting bolder with Sharif. The revelations of the reality of his marriage to Jamilla, and the fact that he had made mistakes, that he wasn’t the perfect person she thought he was, had made them closer. He did need her, she was finally coming to accept, as much as she needed him. It evened things out somehow.

  Going up on her toes, she drew his lips to hers and kissed him deeply.

  ‘I miss you too,’ she whispered, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. As usual, their lovemaking was passionate and tender, and afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms, chatting. They would talk again about the future, but for now they had decided just to enjoy the holiday and deal with it when they got home.

  ‘So Zeinab seems to be behaving better than we hoped,’ he remarked.

  ‘Well, she’s on her best behaviour for my dad, I think.’

  ‘Really? I knew she was flirting to annoy my mother, but do you really think she likes him that way?’ Sharif asked.

  Carmel smiled. For a smart man he could be very unobservant sometimes, especially on matters like this. ‘Definitely. She’s trying to impress him; she fancies the pants off him.’

  Sharif laughed. ‘Really?’ he repeated. ‘I suppose that would explain it. Has he any interest, do you think?’

  ‘I doubt it. I can’t see her being his type, really. Besides…’ Carmel paused. As far as she was aware, Nadia had never had another relationship after Khalid died. She wondered how Sharif would take to the idea of Nadia and Joe. Regardless, she decided to come clean. He loved his mother and would want her to be happy, and anyway, she might need his help.

  ‘Besides what?’ he prompted.

  ‘I think Zeinab may not be the only woman with her eye on him.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. He’s a great fellow. I’m sure plenty of ladies would be delighted to have Joe on their arm. But I don’t think he’s seeing anyone, is he?’

  ‘Not now, no. I don’t think he has since Mary died, and that was a few years ago now. I asked him before, and he just said he was kept busy with the family and his properties and all of that. But if the right woman came along, I think maybe he would consider it.’

  ‘But you don’t think my cantankerous, snobbish aunt is the right woman?’ Sharif chuckled.

  ‘No, I don’t, but maybe your sweet, kind mother is.’ Carmel paused, trying to gauge his reaction.

  ‘What? Really? Joe likes Ammi? Are you sure?’ Sharif seemed astounded.

  ‘No, I’m not even half sure, but I think she likes him. I think that’s why Zeinab flirting her head off is driving Nadia bonkers.’

  ‘Well, they do get on well,’ Sharif agreed, ‘and they seem to have a laugh together when they meet. But do they see each other outside of us?’

  ‘No, I don’t think they ever have. Joe would be afraid we wouldn’t approve, and Nadia probably the same. So I was thinking we could test the waters, so to speak, and if there was a bit of something, we could give it a little nudge. What do you think?’

  Sharif sighed. ‘I don’t know. I mean, sure, I really like Joe, but, well, I never really thought of Ammi like that. She and my father had such a good marriage, and being an only child, well, after he died, it was just the two of us. I’m not opposed to the idea, I don’t think, I just need to try to wrap my head around it, you know? And there may not be anything anyway...’

  She knew he was thinking aloud, so she didn’t interrupt.

  ‘Has she said anything to you?’ Sharif asked.

  ‘No, not directly, but we were talking today, and she was just venting about how crazy-making Zeinab was, and I asked her, and she got all flustered and embarrassed, and denied it of course. But there was something, I just know there was.’

  ‘Well, should I ask her?’ Sharif wondered.

  ‘No, let’s just sound Joe out first. If I can ever prize Zeinab away from him. Maybe you could distract her some time tomorrow, and I’ll get Joe on my own.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll take her to a gift shop or something, flash the cash. She’ll love that.’

  They lay in silence, and Carmel cuddled up to him. Just as she was falling asleep, he spoke again.

  ‘I know we said we’d wait, talk about it later, but I just want you to know that you are the most important person in my life and I want you to have everything you want. I know I didn’t sound too enthusiastic about the prospect of having a child. It’s nothing to do with you, I just have such sad memories and such guilt about making Jamilla wait and all that turned out to mean. But I want you to know that if you want to try for a baby, then so do I. You’d be such a wonderful mother, I know you would.’

  Sometimes, without warning, tears came unbidden to Carmel. She never remembered crying as a child, or even in the years with Bill, but since she’d moved to England, she was prone to tears. It embarrassed her, but Sharif was always telling her that it was just her thawing out—years of frozen emotions finally being given some space to be.

  He didn’t say anything, just held her until she could reply. She leaned up on one elbow and looked down into his face.

  ‘I don’t know if you’ll understand this, but I want to have a baby, to have someone to love. I love you so much, and Nadia and Joe and now Jen and Luke and everything, putting so much love in a life that had absolutely none, but it’s not enough. I can’t explain it, but the desire to hold a baby of my own in my ar
ms, to hear someone call me Mammy, calling you Daddy, to have a person of our very own, my own flesh and blood, it’s... It’s so overwhelming sometimes its scares me. When I heard Jen talking about going on picnics with Joe and Mary, or just things Zane or Ivanka would say about when they were kids, I realised I had no childhood. Not really. I don’t have any real happy memories, and maybe I want to relive childhood through my own child, I don’t know. I never felt this, not once with Bill, but now it’s all I think about. I know the odds are against me—I’m forty-one, and I don’t even know if my reproductive system works properly—but I—’

  He drew her tightly to his chest. His strong arms around her stopped her disintegrating. ‘I know. I understand. Let’s go for it, OK? We won’t know until we try.’

  ‘You really want to? Not just to keep me happy but for you as well?’ she asked, her voice barely audible.

  ‘I really do,’ he whispered, and she knew he meant it. She would stop taking the pill immediately.

  * * *

  Sharif was true to his word, and the following afternoon as they explored the colourful, arty city of Galway, he insisted on taking his aunt to get a souvenir in a very expensive-looking gift store. For once, she wasn’t thrilled about spending time with her nephew, as she had attached herself like glue to Joe, but Sharif wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Carmel had asked Joe quietly at breakfast if they could have some time together, just the two of them, during the day, so he gave Luke directions to the cathedral, and the Claddagh and the Spanish Arch, and made arrangements to meet everyone for fish and chips and a pint in McDonagh’s in a few hours’ time.

  Jen had stayed in the hotel for a rest. While she was feeling good, her energy levels were not what they normally were, so she was happy just to relax there. She promised she’d join them for dinner. Damien was so great with Sean, Carmel wondered if Sharif would be as hands-on. She immediately chided herself for the thought; she wasn’t even pregnant yet, and it most likely would never happen, so it wasn’t doing her any good at all speculating on the nonexistent future baby. Time enough for that if she did actually manage to conceive.

  Joe put his arm around her shoulders as they strolled down Shop Street licking 99s. She’d protested that she didn’t need an ice cream, they’d had scones with jam and cream and coffee before the group broke up, but Joe insisted.

  ‘I never bought you a 99 as a kid, so you’ll have to eat forty odd years of them now.’

  As the woman in the shop had swirled the thick, soft-serve ice cream onto the cone and stuck a chocolate flake in it, Carmel had been transported back to a time when she was around seven or eight. She’d had a bad tooth and was taken to the dentist to have it pulled.

  ‘No more 99s or chewy toffees for you, young lady,’ the dentist had remarked jokingly once he’d pulled the offending tooth.

  ‘What’s a 99?’ she’d asked.

  The dentist and his nurse had looked embarrassed. They’d forgotten she was a child of Trinity House and were talking to her like she was a normal kid.

  ‘It’s an ice cream on a cone with a chocolate flake in it,’ the nurse had explained. Then the dentist put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a five-pound note, thrusting it at Carmel.

  ‘Not too many now, but an odd 99 won’t do you any harm,’ he’d said gruffly.

  She’d put the money in her pocket and when she got back to Trinity House she hid it in the base of a box each child was given for their personal belongings. She never spent it. It was the only present she’d ever gotten as a kid.

  She considered telling Joe the story now, but she hated to see the sadness in his face when she recounted bits of her life as a child, so she said nothing.

  They chatted easily as they walked along, stopping every so often at shop windows to look inside. The streets were busy with locals and tourists alike, and buskers vied for attention. Music was everywhere, and children played and dogs barked and all seemed right with the world.

  As they passed one shop, Joe lifted up Carmel’s right hand and inspected it.

  ‘Good,’ he announced before leading her into a shop.

  ‘What?’ she asked, giggling.

  It was a jewellery shop, selling many variations on one product: the Claddagh ring.

  Carmel gazed at the array of rings on display. Each had the same basic but intricate design in varying metals and with different stones inset.

  ‘The hands are holding a heart, on top of which is a crown,’ the shop assistant began her explanation.

  ‘We know,’ Joe said gently. ‘We’re Irish.’ He smiled to take the sting out of his words. ‘The hands symbolise friendship, the crown is for loyalty, and the heart is for love.’ He spoke directly to Carmel. ‘Pick one. I want to buy it for you.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that—’

  He held a hand out to stop her objections and spoke quietly, out of earshot of the staff and other customers. ‘You are my daughter, and I hope we’ll always be friends. You will have my loyalty to the day I die. And, well…’ He stopped at the love part, suddenly shy. ‘Please, let me do this.’

  ‘OK. Thanks.’ She kissed him on the cheek, and he gave her a squeeze.

  They walked to the counter. ‘Can you show us the best ones, please? I want to get my daughter here a really nice ring.’

  The assistant didn’t need to be told twice. She hastily extracted a tray.

  ‘These are white gold, platinum and gold, set with diamonds, sapphires and emeralds.’

  They had no prices, and Carmel began to panic. ‘I like the ones over there...’ She pointed to the cheaper varieties on open display.

  ‘You’re having one of these.’ Joe was adamant.

  ‘But they are probably so expensive,’ she whispered. ‘Honestly, the other ones are just the same and—’

  Joe grinned and picked out a gold ring, inset with an emerald, and slipped it on her finger.

  ‘You must wear it with the heart facing in. It tells the world you’re spoken for. I think Sharif would rather that.’ He winked. ‘Though, I often thought of getting one for myself, facing it out, to see if there were any bites from gorgeous women!’ He laughed. ‘Do you like it?’

  Carmel looked at it, the emerald sparking as she moved her hand. She loved not just the ring, but everything it symbolised. It was an old wedding ring, traditional to the Claddagh village outside of Galway, and its intricate design was uniquely Irish. Friendship, love, and loyalty, absent for so long, and now in her life in abundance. It was a symbol of her new life.

  ‘I love it.’ She smiled, trying not to allow her emotions to bubble over again. She took it off, and the lady polished it up and went to put it in a box.

  ‘I’d like to wear it now, if that’s all right?’ Carmel said.

  ‘Of course.’ The woman smiled and handed the ring back to her. She slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand.

  She smiled. ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  ‘You’re very welcome, my love. Now outside the door with you till I settle up with this lady.’ And he whooshed her outside.

  Chapter 16

  She stood outside, her back to the wall of the shop, and turned her face to the sun, closing her eyes. The street musicians, families and groups of teenagers milled around, and all the chatter settled easily in her ears. She was perfectly content. The talk with Sharif last night had lifted her spirits, and knowing they were both on the same page filled her with happiness. She was wondering if she should raise the subject of Nadia with Joe when she was startled by a voice.

  ‘Carmel? Is it you?’

  She snapped her eyes open, and her mouth went instantly dry. She felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach.

  ‘N-Niamh... Oh, hi. H-How are you?’ Carmel could hardly speak.

  Bill’s daughter was standing in front of her, large as life, exuding indignation and righteous fury from every pore. Carmel hadn’t seen her in over two years, but she looked the same. Perfectly highlighted blond bob, Michael
Kors handbag, designer clothes head to toe, and a bit too much makeup for a day out in the city. She’d gained weight since Carmel last saw her, and she was wearing very tight leather trousers and a low-cut top. It wasn’t flattering. Niamh and Sinead were now in their early thirties, but this outfit was for a much younger, slimmer woman.

  ‘How am I? Well, I might ask you the same question. Not to mention what are you doing here? I thought you’d hightailed it off to London to be with some Indian or something?’ The tone was simultaneously accusatory and dismissive, and Carmel had forgotten that was how people used to speak to her.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks, fine. Er… Yes, I live in London now...’ She wished she could be more articulate, but seeing Niamh out of the blue had rattled her.

  As she was about to try again, Joe emerged from the shop. ‘Are we right?’ he asked, not realising she was in conversation with Niamh.

  ‘He’s not Indian,’ Niamh accused, glancing Joe up and down, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

  ‘Sorry...’ Joe stopped, realising this woman was addressing Carmel. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Who am I? Oh, well you might ask, don’t mind me. I’m Niamh Sheehan-Condon, just her ex-husband’s daughter. You know, the one she abandoned to go off with some Indian, some refugee off the internet or something. Though you’re no more an Indian than I am, so he obviously didn’t last long.’ She snorted, delighted to have caught Carmel out, as she saw it.

  Joe seemed to almost get taller and broader, standing slightly in front of Carmel. ‘You have the wrong end of the stick there, Niamh Sheehan-Condon,’ Joe said, smirking slightly at the affectation of a double-barrelled name. ‘I’m Joe McDaid, Carmel’s father.’

  ‘What? Oh, I’ve heard it all now. Her father? You are in your eye her father. Sure, she’s out of a laundry, or an orphanage or something. Her mother was an unmarried mother, and she was left to the nuns and the tax-payer to rear. You’re no more her father than the pope.’ She turned to Carmel. ‘You might have conned poor Daddy, and now you’ve this eejit running around after you like a fool, but I’m wise to you, lady, always have been. How dare you come back here, swanning around Ireland with another of your fancy men? Thank God my poor father isn’t here. He could do without running into you after everything you put him through.’