The Things I Should Have Told You

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘Wow,’ Mae says. She looks flushed and I’ve smudged her makeup. I’ve never seen her look sexier. ‘That was something else, Mr Guinness.’

  ‘Not too shabby for an old married couple, eh?’ I say to her.

  ‘No.’ She smiles and kisses me, with great tenderness. ‘I love you. Know that to be true. No matter what else happens, I love you, Olly.’

  I feel tears prick my eyes, in the way that is becoming more and more familiar. She loves me. It’s like the first time she said it to me, fifteen years ago.

  ‘I love you too,’ I whisper and bury my head in her hair, fighting the urge to cry.

  A bang on the door interrupts us. ‘Mum, Dad!’ It’s Jamie. ‘I’m starving.’

  We giggle. ‘Bad parents,’ Mae says.

  ‘The worst,’ I concur. ‘But if you will go around looking all sexy, what’s a man to do?’

  We both scramble to get ready and tell Jamie we will be there in five minutes. Dinner is excellent; above and beyond our expectations. We even manage to tick off some more local dishes to add to our courageous palates. Then we move to the bar, where the evening entertainment is about to start. Our cruise manager is a middle-aged English man called Terence. He tells us that there will be a musical quiz followed by a pianist and singer.

  ‘Now, let’s see, we need a name for our team,’ I say.

  ‘The Travelling Nomads,’ Evie says straight away.

  Not bad Evie, not bad at all.

  ‘Will I write the answers down?’ she asks. The difference in her since yesterday is remarkable. The simple thing of giving her her own room. I’ll remember that. Maybe we can find a way to do that again.

  We nod and then Terence begins the quiz. ‘Question one. Former Spice Girl Melanie Chisholm duetted with which Canadian singer-songwriter on the 1998 single “When You’re Gone”?’

  ‘I know this one!’ Mae says. ‘It’s Bryan Adams!’

  Evie scribbles it down neatly.

  ‘Question two. Elvis Presley’s manager, Andreas Cornelis van Kuijk, was better known by what name?’ Terence asks us.

  ‘Pops was an Elvis fan,’ I say. ‘That would be Colonel Tom Parker.’

  This is going well.

  ‘Now this usually gets people! Question three. In the song, how many ships came sailing by on Christmas Day?’

  ‘Two,’ Mae says.

  ‘Three,’ I say.

  ‘Four,’ Evie says.

  ‘Twenty?’ Jamie shouts, causing the table beside us to laugh.

  ‘We’ll have to come back to this,’ Mae says.

  ‘Question four. Which member of Take That replaced Simon Cowell as a judge on the British X Factor?’

  ‘Gary Barlow,’ Evie says, to which Mae and I start to laugh.

  ‘Always knew you were a closet fan of the show!’ Mae teases and Evie throws her eyes up to the heavens.

  We get quite competitive as a team, especially after round one, when we realise that we got all ten questions correct.

  ‘We can win this.’ I’ve never wanted to win anything so much in my life. I feel like our family needs a win for a change. Eight more rounds fly by and then it’s the final round and the last question. We know we’re in with a shot. Three teams are hovering at the top of the leader board and we’re right in the middle of them.

  ‘Now, a tough one to finish off. Pop band Abba wrote the song “Chiquitita” to commemorate the 1979 “International Year of the … “what”?’ Terence asks.

  An audible gasp goes around the room as most of us haven’t got a barney. ‘Anyone?’ I look around at my family.

  ‘I’ve not even a decent guess to give you here,’ Mae says.

  Jamie has lost interest by now and is busy building houses with the beer mats, but glances up to say ‘bananas’.

  ‘The year of the banana?’ My son is pure comedy genius.

  ‘Yeah. The advert on TV, it’s about Chiquita bananas.’

  Mae has tears coming out of her eyes she’s laughing that much.

  ‘What?’ Jamie asks, no idea why we’re laughing at him.

  ‘I might know this,’ Evie tells us. ‘Chiquitita is Spanish for “little one”. Abba did a charity song for UNICEF years ago. I think it could be this one. I remember in my Guinness Book of Records, it said that it is one of the most famous charity songs ever made.’

  ‘So what would the international year be of then?’ I ask, feeling excitement bubble up inside.

  ‘Maybe International Year of the Child?’ Evie says, looking self-conscious. ‘It’s just a guess.’

  ‘It’s a good guess,’ I say.

  ‘What if it’s wrong and we lose?’ Evie asks, looking worried.

  ‘Then we lose,’ Mae replies. ‘No big deal. But at least we tried. And had fun along the way.’

  So Evie writes the answer down, folds the answer sheet up and hands it to Terence.

  A few minutes later, Terence is back on the stage, microphone in hand and ready to put us out of our misery. ‘Now everyone, I can tell you that after round nine, we have a tie-breaker situation. Both the Travelling Nomads and the Silver Foxes have seventy-six points.’

  A cheer from a group of pensioners on the other side of the room erupts, so we give a few whoops out too.

  ‘So it was all down to this final round. Can I have the score sheets for round ten please.’

  A drum roll from the band, with perfect timing, makes us all gasp.

  ‘I can tell you that one team got all ten questions right, the other only nine, getting question ten wrong,’ Terence proclaims, with a flourish of his hands. The pianist wants to get in on the act. He throws in a dramatic clang on the piano.

  ‘Will it be the Travelling Nomads or the Silver Foxes?’ Terence says, enjoying his moment of power.

  ‘Come on!’ I shout.

  ‘Oh I feel sick now,’ Evie says.

  ‘Question ten, the answer is, The International Year of …’ He pauses, of course he does, a salacious grin over his face. ‘The Child!’

  We realise we have won and jump to our feet and whoop. You’d swear we’d just won the European Cup.

  ‘You star!’ Mae says to a charmed Evie, who is bursting with pride.

  ‘Will the winning captain please come up to collect the prize?’ Terence says.

  ‘Go on, kids. Do it together,’ Mae says. I expect Evie to say no, but she surprises me by nodding her consent. And then the strangest thing happens. It’s as if time slows down. The noise in the room stretches into muffled sounds. I watch Jamie jump up from his seat, punching his arm in the air, and I see his mouth open wide, obviously shouting, but I can’t hear a thing.

  I turn to look at Mae and watch her reach for her phone in one long, glorious, graceful movement. My heart contracts as I see her joy as she snaps pictures of our children, capturing this Guinness victory. And then I turn to my daughter, my little girl. Her face fades for a moment, or is it a lifetime? And then all at once, my little girl disappears and in her place is a beautiful young woman. And this young woman is laughing.

  The kind of laugh that will break and make a man’s heart one day. Then she turns to Jamie and they raise their hands up in double high-fives, a gesture old as time for them, yet one we’ve not seen for a while. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a more perfect moment. I turn to look around the room and see strangers clapping, smiling and one of the losing members of the Silver Foxes is wagging their fingers at us in jest.

  And then I see them. Standing there, it’s Pops, holding Mam’s hand. And she looks so beautiful, I can’t breathe. He nods at me and I cannot take my eyes from him, my father, my teacher, my best friend.

  ‘Olly,’ I hear Mae’s voice, muffled as if she’s miles away and I turn to her and she’s pointing to the children, who have started towards the stage.

  Then, with one last smile, my parents are both gone. Time speeds up and the room fills with chatter, glasses clinking and the band doing a drum roll for the children’s arrival to the stage.


  ‘You’re crying,’ Mae says, reaching up and brushing away tears from my face.

  ‘Am I?’ I reach up and wipe my eyes and blink twice, then look around again, searching, but knowing that they are gone. Wi-Fi.

  ‘You big softie.’ She smiles and kisses me on the lips. ‘Quick, look at the kids!’

  Terence says, ‘Congratulations to the winning team and here is your winning prize – a box of luxurious truffles.’

  He hands the tiniest box of chocolates I’ve ever seen to Jamie, who looks down at it, then up at him and then back down to the box again.

  ‘Do you have anything you want to say?’ Terence says, pushing the mike under Jamie’s chin.

  ‘Is this all we win?’ Jamie says and the room breaks into laughter.

  A giggling Evie grabs Jamie and they run back to our table.

  ‘Open them up, let’s celebrate!’ Mae says and Jamie pulls the box open in thirty seconds.

  ‘There’s five chocolates in it,’ he says.

  ‘One each and I think the extra one should go to Evie, because she got the question right,’ Mae says.

  I nod in approval.

  ‘We’re a good team,’ Mae says. ‘What would we do without you, Evie.’ My daughter blushes and smiles again.

  I reach over and grab her hand. ‘You are a beautiful young woman, you know that?’

  She looks startled at my compliment. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she squeaks back, but I’m rewarded with one of her amazing smiles. I’m doing it, Pops. I’m not leaving anything unsaid any more.

  ‘You’re a good man,’ Mae whispers to me and I answer truthfully, ‘I’m only what I am because of each of you.’

  And then the waitress comes over, saving me from further tears, and we order more drinks and sit back to enjoy the music. We leave the bar at eleven-thirty, with a sleepy Jamie in my arms. Mae and I fall into bed and are both asleep before our heads hit the pillow.

  I awake to the sound of banging on our door. Jamie, of course, and he surprises us by telling us that he’s ‘starving’. But I realise that I’m ravenous too.

  ‘Must be the river air,’ I say to Mae. We both have a quick shower and get dressed and we are sitting down to a hearty breakfast from the buffet within half an hour.

  ‘I like cruising,’ Mae declares. ‘I think I’d like to do one of those big cruise ships one day. Maybe around the Caribbean.’

  ‘Then we’ll put it on our wish list,’ I say to her. And I think about Pops, Mam and I looking at the atlas every week, planning and plotting our trips together. Maybe it’s time that we continue that tradition. How do you like that, Pops? Your legacy: look what you’ve created.

  ‘We’re off to Tripsdill Park once we dock,’ Mae says.

  ‘Please can we go to the theme park first? It has a catapult and water rides and roller coasters,’ Jamie asks.

  ‘Yes, we can go get your thrill on!’ Mae says, laughing.

  ‘Our campsite is about twenty km from the park. As long as we’re there by seven tonight, we’re grand. The website says that they only speak German, so I’m leaving that to you, Fräulein Mae,’ I tell her.

  ‘Okay. Time to get the phrase book out,’ Mae says. ‘Actually, Evie, if you can tear yourself away from instant chat, will you get a few likely phrases sorted for us?’

  ‘How is Prince Charming himself?’ I tease.

  ‘His name is Luke,’ she tells me, sticking her tongue out.

  Just the thought of him breaks her face out into a huge smile. Shite! She’s got it bad.

  ‘He’s so funny, Dad,’ she gushes.

  Oh Lord, a funny one. All we need.

  ‘I saw you’ve had lots of comments about your picture you posted,’ Mae says to her.

  ‘Seventy-nine people liked it,’ she answers, clearly delighted with this number.

  ‘Well, it is a beautiful picture,’ Mae says.

  ‘Can I say something here?’ They all turn to look at me. ‘I’ve no problem with Facebook as long as it makes you happy. But Evie, don’t value yourself based on how many likes you get on a picture you post.’

  ‘Very deep, Dad,’ Evie replies and throws her eyes up to the heavens, just in case I’m in any doubt about how lame that comment was.

  ‘Evie, don’t do that. Don’t be rude to your dad.’ Mae’s reprimand surprises and delights me.

  Evie looks equally surprised and her mouth has formed a rather comical O.

  ‘I agree with your dad. Your life is far too valuable to be wasting it following the crowd, doing whatever everyone else is doing. One of the things we love most about you is your wonderful uniqueness,’ Mae says.

  Oh, that’s good, I think. She’s a way with words, my wife.

  ‘Celebrate who you are and live your life, as you want to. Now if you want to be on Facebook, that’s great. But do it on your terms.’

  ‘Okay, whatever,’ Evie replies.

  ‘Don’t you love it when heartfelt words really hit home?’ I whisper to Mae and she snorts laughter, making the kids look up at us both.

  We’re still giggling when we pack up and head back to Nomad to disembark the ferry.

  ‘Did you notice how easily you got on and off that boat?’ Mae says to me once we are on our way. ‘Remember that morning in Rosslare? I thought you were going to pass out with the stress of it all.’

  ‘That feels like a lifetime ago,’ I reply, thinking I almost had a stroke back then.

  ‘We’ve come a long way,’ Mae replies.

  ‘We have,’ I look at her, wondering if she is being literal or alluding to the state of our family.

  ‘But we’ve a way to go yet before we’re done,’ she continues and when she holds my gaze I know that neither of us is talking literally.

  ‘It’s fun, though, right?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes. It’s fun, Olly. Far more than I ever thought possible.’

  It’s only forty km to the theme park, so once we get to the motorway, we are there within the hour. The park has lots of rides and Jamie is in heaven. He is big enough for every single ride and is currently on his fourth go of the wooden roller coaster.

  ‘Look, I don’t think he’s going to leave here without a huge fuss. Why don’t we divide up? I’ll go with Evie to the wildlife park for an hour. You guys hang here and do some more rides. Meet back in Nomad at five?’ Mae suggests.

  ‘Sounds like a good plan. Keep your phones on and see you in a bit,’ I say.

  ‘Okay, Jamie, come on, let’s go back onto the water raft again!’ I shout to him as he runs towards me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  MAE

  ‘Okay, what do you want to see most of all?’ I ask Evie, standing in front of the information desk.

  She takes a quick look over the map of all enclosures and says, ‘The wolves. They might be cool.’

  ‘Okay, we’ve only an hour, so let’s do that first, then maybe check out something else afterwards,’ I reply.

  I manoeuvred this split in the group because I want to have another chat with Evie. She seems like she’s coping, she’s recovering, but I’m still worried. I can remember what it was like to be thirteen, unsure about yourself. And the slightest thing can seem like a big deal.

  But now we are on our own, I’m feeling a bit awkward and don’t know where to start. I don’t want to embarrass her and make her shut down. On one hand, she seems happy, but I also know now that what Evie shows the world is not, in fact, always the truth.

  I’m not just concerned about what happens to Olly and me when we get home, but also to our daughter. There could be other Martinas and Deirdres. Life is full of them. What can we do to ensure she has the strength to stand up for herself?

  I feel ill-equipped to deal with teen issues. They don’t give you a guidebook on all this stuff. Bullying, self-esteem, alcohol and we’re adding in first love and maybe sex into the mix too. Oh yes, burying my head in the sand seems like a safer and more appealing option.

  I
know that I can’t just rattle off questions to her or spout unsolicited advice about what may or may not be a good idea. So I bite my lip to stop myself falling into the trap of doling out clichés. I want Evie to open up to me, so decide my best bet is to just ask the odd question and let her do all the talking.

  ‘You seem to be on Facebook a bit more lately,’ I say to her. I try to sound casual, but my voice sounds tight, strange.

  ‘A bit,’ she replies. Then looks off to the right at the horses grazing in the paddock.

  So much for asking an open question.

  ‘Have you heard anything from your classmates other than Ann?’ I throw in again. Get me, all casual like.

  ‘No,’ she replies and devotes all her attention now to the birds of prey in the glass cages to our left.

  Shite, double shite and shite again! I’m a legend at this mothering lark.

  Right, third time lucky, I’ll try another approach. The direct one.

  ‘Has there been any more bullying, Evie? On Facebook? Because you need to tell me if they are up to their old tricks again. Are you okay? You can talk to me. I’m here for you.’ Right, that was really casual, Mae Guinness. Subtle.

  She sighs. Long and loud – and keeps staring at the animals.

  ‘I’m just aware that before all that stuff flew under my radar. I didn’t know about it. So I’m worried that you might be dealing with stuff again and I don’t know about it,’ I blurt out.

  She turns to look at me for the first time and decides to put me out of my misery. ‘They’ve gone really quiet. At least online, anyhow,’ Evie answers me.

  ‘Hmmm,’ I murmur, hoping that she will continue to open up.

  ‘A few of the girls have been more chatty this past few days. I put a picture up of the cruise ship and Ann and Luke were chatting to me about it. Then a few more joined in, asking questions about it all,’ Evie says.

  ‘Are they any of the girls who were part of the bullying?’ I ask.

  ‘No. They knew it was going on, though,’ Evie says. ‘One of them, Katie, she sent me a message today.’

  ‘Oh, what did she say?’ I ask and I swear to God if she tells me it’s a nasty message I’ll grab the first flight home and kill her.