by Andrea Mara
Her phone screen lights up with a text: Sam’s usual apology. There’s more today though – he wants to come down for Seth’s birthday. As if. Maybe her silence is giving the wrong message – does he think she’s going to forgive him?
Sam, I’ve told you not to contact me. And no, of course you can’t come down for Seth’s birthday. I don’t want to see you.
His reply is immediate. Have you told the boys?
No, not yet. What could I possibly say to them? I’ll tell them you had to work. They’ll be fine – they haven’t been asking for you.
She hesitates with her finger on the send button, then deletes the last part before sending.
What about Seth’s present? It’s still here.
So send it in the post.
It’s too big to post. I could get Miller to take it – he was saying he might go down again in the next few weeks?
No! Please don’t encourage him. The last visit was painful.
Ugh, this is starting to sound like a normal conversation.
Michael is another option. He said he’d do it if you didn’t want me to go down.
So does Michael know about your cheating?
That’s more like it.
I told him at the weekend. He gave me a bollicking.
I always liked Michael. Fair play. Fine, if he wants to bring it down, tell him to come Saturday.
Will do. And I’m sorry.
Too late for that. Bye.
Her phone beeps again – Jesus, he’s not getting the message at all. But this time it’s Miller.
Hi Kate, how are you? I’m thinking of coming down to Galway again soon. I hope Sam isn’t lonely without you all. I called again twice recently but he didn’t answer. Isn’t that strange?
Oh for Jesus’ sake, would he ever take a hint? Although Sam seems to have lost his “Ah Kate, don’t be so mean to Miller” attitude, now that he’s the one dealing with it on his own.
Miller, it doesn’t make any sense for you to call when we’re not there – Sam is at work. And maybe you’d be better focusing on getting a job than coming down to Galway again – you were only here just two weeks ago.
She hits send and waits for the reply, but there’s none. Feck, that was probably a bit harsh. Bloody Miller.
The door swings open and Jan comes outside to gather empty cups from another table. The wind knocks a chair on its side and she picks it up, nodding towards Kate, and looks up at the grey sky.
“That’s the end of the summer, I’d say,” she says.
It is indeed, thinks Kate, it most certainly is.
Chapter 28
Kate – June 1984
It’s definitely going to rain. And, of course, the one day her mum trusts them to walk home without her, Miller doesn’t show up. Kate folds her arms and frowns, looking around the increasingly empty schoolyard. Miller’s not at the door, even though she told him three times this morning he was to wait for her. And the last few kids from his class are gone now too. It starts to rain, and she pulls up the hood of her ugly green rain-jacket. Maybe he’s still in the classroom. She picks up her bag, cursing him under her breath.
But only the teacher is still in the room, and she says Miller left ten minutes ago with all the other kids. She goes back to her marking.
“Thanks for nothing,” Kate mutters, as she goes outside.
Would he have gone on without her? She walks out the school gate and looks down the road towards the village. There’s a cluster of boys outside the sweet shop and they look about his age, but the rain is heavier now and distorting her vision – she can’t make out if Miller is among them. She starts walking. It is Miller, and there’s a group of boys in a circle around him, throwing something. She picks up her pace. Miller is running from one boy to the next as they throw whatever it is. It’s a shoe. They’re throwing his shoe. She starts to run. He has one shoe on, but his other foot is bare, splashing down in rapidly forming puddles every time he runs. The boys are laughing as Miller tries desperately to catch his remaining shoe, but he can’t. Not when it’s five against one. Kate races up to the group, and just as one boy raises the shoe above his head to throw it, she grabs it. He turns around and laughs when he sees her.
“How dare you!” she roars at him. “Do you think that’s funny?”
“Chill! It’s just a joke.”
“Where are his socks?”
The boy shrugs.
She turns to Miller. “Where are your socks?”
“Back at the school,” he says, his head down.
“You took his shoes and socks at the school? He ran down here barefoot? In the rain?”
The first boy answers. “Well, he got one shoe back at the school. So not totally barefoot. And anyway, he’s too dim to notice. Retard.”
He whispers the last word, but Kate hears it. She thumps him hard, catching him on the shoulder and knocking him back. He trips over a schoolbag and lands on the ground, red-faced and surprised. The other boys snigger and start to slink away, leaving just Miller and Kate, his shoe in her hand.
“Come on,” she says, putting her arm around him. “Put this on, and I’ll help you find your socks.”
“I just want to go home now,” he says. “Can we leave the socks?”
“I wish we could leave the village too,” Kate says, as she helps him tie his lace.
At dinner, glancing over at Miller, she tells her parents what happened. He pays no attention, methodically eating his lamb chop and mashed potato. When she tells them Miller had to walk from the school to the village with only one shoe on, Laura claps her hand over her mouth and looks like she’s going to cry. She gets up and walks around the table to hug Miller. He keeps eating.
“Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened to you. I should have gone down to collect you. This is all my fault. I’ll be there every day from now on.”
Great, thinks Kate. Because being the only kid in her class still collected from school won’t at all make life harder for her.
But her dad has other ideas. He puts down his knife and fork before speaking, like it’s some kind of big pronouncement – like he’s the boss of the house. As if. She rolls her eyes but makes sure he doesn’t see.
“No,” he says, folding his arms. “Laura, you’re not to collect him. He needs to learn to stand up for himself. Miller, how do you feel about the fact that your sister had to help you today – that you had to be rescued by a girl? It’s supposed to be the other way around. So the next time someone tries to take your shoe, you punch him and walk away.”
Laura stands up straight. “Richard, that’s not the right message to be giving him. He should tell a teacher or find Kate – you can’t be telling him to hit other children.”
“That’s what we were taught as kids and it didn’t do us any harm. I’d never have let anyone bully me like that – he needs to stand up for himself or it’ll still be happening in thirty years’ time.” He turns to his son. “Miller, leave the table now and go upstairs to think about what happened today. I’ll be up in a while to speak to you, and I want to know that you’ve listened and understood what I’m saying.”
Kate’s sure Miller isn’t paying any attention at all, but then he pushes back his chair and walks out of the room. They wait silently, listening to his slow footsteps on the stairs, and the sound of his bedroom door closing.
Laura sits back down and looks at her husband. “That’s not fair – he’s only eight, and he needs our sympathy after what happened today. Sending him to his room will feel like a punishment.”
“It is a punishment. He should never have let them take his shoes. It’s our job as parents to teach him lessons like this.” Richard picks up his knife and fork again and cuts off a piece of lamb.
Kate watches him, her stomach churning in time with his chewing. She’s conscious that her mum is close to tears again, but she doesn’t look at her. What a dick, she thinks. Even kids know that’s not a good lesson. And not for the first time, she wishes it could be just
the three of them – Laura, Miller and Kate.
Chapter 29
Kate – Saturday, August 6th 2016
Kate stands in the doorway with her arms folded, watching as Michael gets out of the car, with the present tucked under his arm. Where exactly is bloody Scalextric going to fit in her mother’s B&B? At least it’s wrapped – that’s a first for Sam. Michael looks unsure about how to greet her and, inexplicably, that makes her happy. He opts for a quick smile and a shrug in the end, and asks if he should bring in the present or leave it in the car.
“Sure, bring it in, he’s out in the garden,” she says, and turns to walk back inside. Michael follows.
“Do they know it’s me that’s coming and not Sam?” he says to Kate’s retreating back.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
Outside, Seth and Jamie squeal when they see Michael, and race to hug him before grabbing the present and ripping off the paper.
“I love it!” Seth says, putting down the box to hug Michael again.
“Well, it’s not from me – I have something else for you in the car. This one is from your mam and dad.”
“Is Dad here?” Seth asks, his big brown eyes wide with anticipation.
Kate starts to plan her answer but Michael gets there first, hunkering down to talk to Seth at eye level.
“He had to work – he has a huge amount of work at the moment, and his boss said he had to stay in the office all weekend. He really wanted to come down, and he really misses you two, but he couldn’t.”
Two chins meet two chests.
Dammit anyway. Sam and his bloody mess. Kate puts her arms around the boys. “We’ll have great fun with this,” she says. “I don’t even know how Scalextric works – will you show me?”
“I don’t know either, Mum,” Seth says, his head still down. “Dad was going to show me . . . ”
Michael takes Seth’s hand. “You know, I’ve a pretty good idea how this works. Will I give it a try?”
Seth nods, and Kate mouths a “Thank you” to Michael.
The track takes up half the patio outside the kitchen window, and Michael really does seem to know what he’s doing. The boys are hanging on every word while he lays it out and talks them through each step.
Kate watches from inside as she searches for birthday candles. The cake – a rainbow cake, because rainbow is Seth’s favourite colour – is still in the box from Jan’s, and there are buns and jellies somewhere in the cupboard too. Would it be enough? Well, apart from the obvious gaping hole left by the absent father. What’s he doing right now, she wonders, instead of celebrating his son’s birthday? She pulls out her phone and her finger hovers over the Find My Device app. It doesn’t help her at all to know where he is. And if he’s somewhere other than home or the supermarket, what’s she going to do about it anyway? If anything it’s going to annoy her. But she already knows she’s going to look. The map takes a few seconds to show up, but when it does, the pin is neatly tucked into 26 Willow Valley. He’s at home. And now she just feels sad.
McDonagh’s smells of turf and sawdust and spilled Guinness when she pushes open the heavy door. Every person in the bar turns to look at them as they walk in, and she wonders what possessed her to say yes. It had been Laura’s idea – she’d mind the boys, she’d said, and Kate could get out for lunch. It would do her good, Laura insisted, to have adult company other than her own mother. Kate would have preferred to stay in the garden with the boys and let Michael go back to Dublin, but then of course Michael hung back, waiting for her to answer, and she couldn’t say no.
They take a small table beside the fireplace and Michael goes to the bar to get menus. “I’ll just have the soup,” Kate calls after him. “Don’t worry about a menu for me.” The locals aren’t paying attention any more. They probably look like a couple. There’s a newspaper on the table and she picks it up – the front page shows a picture of that little girl who’s gone missing. That poor mother. Where’s the dad in all this? Curious, she turns to the inside pages, but then Michael comes back from the bar. He has a coffee for himself and puts a glass of red wine in front of her.
“It’s a bit early for wine, isn’t it?” she says, but takes a sip.
“Ah, I reckon you’ve been cooped up at home for long enough – you could do with something stronger than coffee,” he says, sitting down opposite her.
Kate nods and takes another sip. “So, let’s skip the small talk. Just tell me – is it serious?”
“God no, Kate. Just one of those things – he’s an awful eejit. You know how it is.”
“Well, no, I don’t know. Tell me – what exactly do you mean by ‘one of those things’?”
Michael picks up his coffee and pauses before answering. “First of all, tell me, how much do you want to know? Think about it, Kate, you might not feel any better for knowing the details. There’s a lot to be said for just leaving it . . .”
Kate shakes her head. “I can’t leave it. I’m so pissed off with him, and it’s been driving me mad since I found out. If I’m going to move on – in whatever direction that might be – I need to know the details.”
Michael nods. “Okay. There’s not much to tell really – it’s a girl he works with. They were put on a project, and they were spending a lot of time together, and it just sort of happened. Well, that’s what he told me anyway.”
Kate feels queasy. Michael was right, it’s horrible hearing the details. But she can’t stop now. “What does she look like?”
“Does it matter?”
“Absolutely it matters. She has stayed in my house. I’ve seen her gross underwear. At the very least, I deserve to know the details.”
“She’s young. Long hair – look, I’m not good at this. She just looks like every other girl to me.”
Kate puts her head in her hands. “God, I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this conversation. Like, Sam! Sam who has always been the good guy, whiter than white, never hurts a fly. How did we end up here?”
Michael shakes his head. “I honestly don’t know, Kate. It’s not like him at all. I was shocked when he told me.”
Kate sits up straighter. “Hang on a sec – did you know about her before I did?”
“Jesus, no. I’d have made him stop if I did, or made him tell you, or I’d have told you myself. Kate, I swear, I wouldn’t have let it go on. But no, he only told me after you left the note.”
The barman drops two soups to them and Kate butters some soda bread – the wine is already going to her head.
“Shit, I wonder do the people in his work know? I didn’t even think of that till now – imagine them all feeling sorry for me. Or thinking ‘lucky Sam’. Jesus!” She looks at Michael, waiting for an answer.
“I’ve no idea, to be honest – he hasn’t said they do, so I’m guessing not. I’m sure it wouldn’t look good to his boss. I don’t think anyone knows – well, other than your brother – I take it you told him?”
Kate puts down her spoon. “Miller? No, I haven’t said a word to him – what makes you think I did?”
Michael looks confused. “He’s been calling in to the house a good bit even though you’re not there. Sam mentioned it – he reckoned Miller wanted to have it out with him about the whole thing. Sam just doesn’t answer the door now. Are you sure he doesn’t know?”
“Definitely. Unless my mum told him . . . I’ll text him to stop calling either way.” She picks up her phone. “Jesus, I only said it to him in a text a few days ago,” she mutters as she types. Then she laughs. “Actually, maybe I shouldn’t tell him to stop. It serves Sam right to have to put up with Miller bugging him.”
Michael laughs then too and for a minute it feels like old times, except of course it’s not – they’re here talking about her cheating dick of a husband. She takes a deep breath before asking her next question and when she does speak her voice is uncharacteristically small.
“Is he still seeing her?”
Michael looks down at his soup without ans
wering, and it tells her everything.
“Jesus! Really? He swore blind to me in his texts that it was all a big mistake and it was over. Are you serious? The fucker is still seeing her?”
Two men at the bar turn to look at her and she scowls at them.
Michael looks like he’s choosing his words. “He told me he’s finished it, and if he’s said the same to you, then he must have.”
“But?”
“Oh Kate, I really don’t want to be in the middle of this.”
“Michael, just tell me.”
He throws up his hands. “That’s all I know. He says he’s done with her.”
“Look me in the eye this time and tell me again.”
“Kate, you need to sort this out with him yourself.”
“That’s fine, but if he’s apologising and begging me to meet, and yet he’s still seeing her, that’s kind of a difficult basis on which to sort it out – wouldn’t you say?”
Michael chews his lip but says nothing.
“I mean, you just swore to me that if you’d known, you’d have done something about it. This is your chance to do something about it – is he still seeing her?”
