The Things I Should Have Told You

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘It fits!’ Mam sighs when I walk out. ‘You have to take off your Converse. Put the kitten heels on. Please. For me …’

  This has to be the lamest thing I’ll ever do, but I figure I better do it. And, despite myself, I want to see what it all looks like in the end. Mam is wearing a bright-yellow dress, similar in style to mine. And she’s got her heels on. She looks really pretty.

  ‘Right, let’s sort our hair out and then we are good to go,’ Mam comes over and, before I have a chance to complain, she’s pulled my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall loose over my shoulders. She grabs a couple of pins and clips back parts of it, leaving some soft tendrils at the side.

  When she turns me around to face the mirror, I don’t recognise the person staring back at me. I don’t look like me. I look … pretty.

  ‘Beautiful. I knew that colour would just suit you so much,’ Mam says and dabs some lipgloss on. ‘You are so lucky, you’ve got the most beautiful skin. It tans a lovely shade of golden brown. Not a single blemish, either. When I was your age, I was covered in spots!’

  ‘Can I try some of that?’ I ask, wondering what it would feel like to wear lipgloss.

  And Mam laughs out loud, clearly delighted with that question, pushing her makeup bag towards me. ‘There’s a lovely coral gloss in there, try that one.’

  ‘It’s a bit like lip balm. Just stickier,’ I say. But I like it and I feel already a more glamorous version of myself.

  A few minutes later I follow Mam out. She’s showing off and does a big twirl for Dad and Jamie. The fifties skirt of her dress whips around her legs as she does.

  ‘Very Grace Kelly,’ Dad says and I say a quick prayer that he doesn’t grab her and start kissing her again.

  ‘Wait till you see our daughter,’ Mam replies, then she grabs me and shoves me in front of Dad and Jamie.

  I’m mortified and refuse to look up.

  ‘Hey, you look beautiful, darling,’ Dad says. ‘When did you get so tall?’

  He looks all weird and then they both start staring at me. I’m scarlet.

  ‘I don’t know if I can walk in these shoes,’ I say.

  ‘You don’t need to walk, Evie, just dance,’ Dad replies, grinning. ‘And at a guess, even with those on, you’ll do better than your old man. Two left feet me.’

  Jamie walks over to me then, and says, ‘Are you my date? Dad made me wear this. I can’t breathe,’ he tugs at his buttoned collar.

  I giggle, he’s so overdramatic. ‘Yes, I think I am. You look handsome, little bro.’

  ‘You look like a Barbie doll,’ Jamie tells me and I giggle again because I think if you’d told me this morning that anyone would ever compare me to one of those, I would have said, yeah right, pigs, flying right now.

  ‘You have to save a dance for me,’ Dad says. ‘I don’t know, one minute you’re a little girl climbing on my shoulders looking for a carry and now here you are, standing before me, on the brink of becoming a woman.’

  Mam takes out her phone and snaps some pics of us all.

  ‘Wow. Come here Evie, look at this photograph of you and Jamie.’

  I’m looking down at Jamie and we’re both laughing. Is that really me? I look alright. Pretty, even.

  ‘That right there is your new profile pic,’ Mam declares. ‘Shall we?’ She holds out her hand to Jamie and Dad offers his arm to me. I look around to make sure no one is watching. I mean, it’s just mortifying. But at the same time, I kinda like it too. Maybe Mam is right, I need to smile a bit more. I’ve been spending so long expecting things to be horrible, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to just enjoy the moment.

  Plus, it’s probably safer if I let him help me walk in. Seriously, how does Mam walk in heels every day in work? I feel like a new-born Bambi standing for the first time on ice.

  Madame Stella, our tutor, is a tiny woman, wearing a long black skirt and tight black polo jumper. She holds a cane in her hand and even though it’s unlikely, I’m kind of terrified she’s going to rap it off the back of my legs.

  ‘I hope she’s not planning on using that on us!’ I whisper to Dad.

  ‘Good afternoon. Welcome,’ she says. Oh, she’s English. I wasn’t expecting that. And then she smiles and she doesn’t look so scary any more.

  ‘Hello,’ we all chorus.

  ‘Don’t look so scared. We are going to have some fun, I promise you!’ She turns to Jamie. ‘First of all, let me tell you a little background. It’s over two hundred years since the Viennese Waltz came to international fame. At that time, Strauss melodies filled ballrooms all over Austria and the city danced the night away.’

  Madame walks over to me then, ‘The city was like a Fred and Ginger movie, with ballgowns and black-tie suits.’

  ‘What’s a Fred and Ginger?’ Jamie asks.

  ‘I think it’s a brand of ice-cream,’ I tell him. I’m confused, but I’ll look it up later tonight to find out what she meant.

  ‘Sshh,’ Mam hisses.

  ‘And today, we will learn the basic pattern of steps,’ Madame tells us. ‘Come, come.’

  We soon learn what the cane is for, as she uses it to stomp the beat on the floor.

  1-2-3. Step-side-close. 1-2-3. Step-side-close. 1-2-3. Step-side-close. 1-2-3. Step-side-close. Step-side-close. 1-2-3.

  We all swirl round and round, trying to look like we know what we’re doing. Jamie proves to have natural rhythm and follows the beat with ease. How does he do that? It takes the rest of us a little bit longer to master the moves to the three-quarter time.

  I get the three basic steps quick enough, but fecking hell, putting them together with speed is the tricky part. I keep standing on Dad’s toes but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  ‘I feel like I’m in a Jane Austen novel,’ Mam whispers to us when we stop for a break. Her face is flushed from exertion.

  ‘I’m not sure Mr Darcy was sweating buckets like I am,’ Dad jokes.

  Then Dad starts to dance with Mam and I’m with Jamie. And we’re all moving around the floor, by the end of the hour, with some level of fluidity.

  I also realise that I’m enjoying myself because when Madame declares the lesson over, I’m a little disappointed. But then she tells us of the annual formal balls and Dad whispers to me, ‘I’m going to surprise your mother and bring her back here for a weekend one day. So she can experience her full Jane Austen experience and go to an actual ball.’

  I reach up and give him a hug.

  ‘What’s that for?’ he asks, clearly bemused. I suppose I don’t do that much any more.

  ‘I don’t want you and Mam to split up and live in different places, like Luke’s parents. So I’m glad you want to take Mam away for a holiday. She’ll like that, Dad. And I can take care of Jamie.’

  Dad looks at me and places his hands on my shoulders. ‘Do you trust me?’

  I nod.

  ‘Well, trust me when I tell you this. I’ve no intention of ever leaving your mam. I promise.’

  I’ve never felt more relieved in my life. Hearing him confirm what I’ve been hoping for makes me want to run back inside the ballroom and skip around the floor.

  We all head back to the campsite and Dad starts to fire up the barbecue.

  ‘Can I go see if Lulu is around?’ I ask. ‘I told her yesterday I’d show her some of my Guinness Book of Records albums.’ I’ve started to check out the records for each place we visit. And there are some seriously cool ones.

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t you ask them if they want to join us for a burger?’ Mam says. ‘We’ve loads of food in. Plenty to go around.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Judith asks, walking over to Nomad with me. ‘Wow, don’t you all look fancy!’

  ‘We’ve been dancing,’ Dad says. ‘Just call me Fred.’

  ‘And of course we are sure,’ Mam says. ‘The more the merrier! We leave here tomorrow; we’d love to spend our last night with you all.’

  ‘Awesome. I’ll make some salads,’ Lorna tells us. ‘And we’ve
got wine!’

  ‘Great! I’m about to open a bottle here. Hate drinking alone, don’t we, Olly?’ Mam smiles as she places glasses on the table.

  I think about that barbecue in Ireland a year ago, just before everything went wrong. I was so scared that I’d have to cling onto that memory as the last happy Guinness family moment. But I was wrong. We’ve had lots of fun moments since then, but right now I think this is my favourite.

  Mam and Dad, standing side by side at the barbecue. He’s laughing at something she said and he puts his arm around her shoulder. Jamie is playing with a robot and is running around Nomad in circles. And then Judith, Lorna and Lulu arrive and I realise how lucky I am that I’m here. In Austria. Making new friends. In a camper van with my crazy family, who I love and who love me.

  And I realise that the feeling in my head, that buzzing, that tightness, like I was about to explode, has been gone for a while now.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dear Olly and Mae

  Well, were the hills alive with the sound of music? Did you solve all Maria’s problems? I was going to add to the challenge by insisting that Olly wear lederhosen, but I figured I might be pushing it with that.

  Do you remember how I used to joke with you, Olly, when you first went to university? I’d say that if you ever decided to emigrate, I was coming too. And then, quick as a whip, you’d reply, you’d better believe it, Pops. Who else is gonna carry my cases?

  You always made me laugh, lad.

  Now, I need to share with you what’s going to happen next. I hope you’re rested, because you have a bit of driving to do over the next two days. About 900 km in total, which I know is a lot. But you need to travel across Hungary and into Romania.

  I’ve told you a few times that I wanted you all to see a different world. Well, the next couple of weeks I think will be life-changing for you all. Or, at least, I hope they will. Because your challenge, this time, is a big one.

  Olly, do you remember a guy I used to work with, called Andy O’Connor? Well, he’s retired now and works for a charity in Romania. He does amazing work with orphanages over there. Rebuilding them for the kids and building homes for families. For two weeks you will all be volunteering with his charity at one of the orphanages. Andy is expecting you and will show you all the ropes.

  Your next letter is in two weeks. This will be tough, I daresay. But I have faith in the Guinnesses. I have faith that you will be able to deal with whatever the next few weeks throw at you.

  Work hard, learn, teach and make a difference.

  Love

  Pops x

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  OLLY

  Holy shitballs.

  I nearly forgot about this letter. Today has been so busy, I nearly forgot. And this is the mother ship of all letters.

  ‘I can’t believe you had to remind me,’ I say to Mae. I feel shit, like I’ve let Pops down, by forgetting about him.

  ‘It’s good that you forgot. It shows you are doing exactly what he wanted you to do. Relaxing and enjoying yourself,’ Mae tells me.

  ‘So, go on, don’t leave me in suspenders. Where are we going to next?’ demands Mae.

  My chest is hammering like a freight train. ‘You are not going to believe what he has planned for us.’

  I grab Mae’s hand and bring her back to the table. Judith, Lorna and Lulu look delighted to be part of the reveal.

  ‘We’re driving 900 km to Romania. Pops has only organised for us to volunteer at an orphanage for two weeks.’

  ‘What?’ Mae shrieks.

  ‘I know!’ I say.

  ‘Read it out loud, what did Pops say?’ Evie says and I recount Pops’ letter.

  ‘I wish I could have met your Pops. He sounds like he was an awesome guy,’ Judith says.

  ‘He was. The best,’ I say with pride.

  ‘What will we be doing, do you think?’ Mae asks.

  I pull out some A4 sheets that Pops has printed off and enclosed with the letter, about the orphanage.

  ‘No idea what we’ll be doing. But we’ll stay there. We can sleep in Nomad or in the dorms, whatever we want,’ I say.

  ‘That’s a long drive you have ahead of you,’ Judith says to me.

  I pull out the family atlas and we pore over the map of Europe, looking at the expanse of country we’ll be crossing.

  ‘I need a drink!’ I say and grab a glass of wine.

  ‘I’m kind of jealous right now,’ Lorna says. ‘I wish we had thought of doing something like that.’

  The evening passes in an excited blur as we chat about the possibilities of the next few weeks. We all swap contact details and promise to stay in touch.

  ‘If you ever head to Ireland, we’ve a big back garden. You’ll always have a place to pitch up,’ I say to them.

  ‘And likewise, you have to come visit us in America next year.’

  Pops would love this. Us making friends and, I don’t know, I have a feeling that we’ll see them again.

  I’m whistling as I pack up the garage, while Mae and the kids tidy the food and drink away. I hear Mae’s mobile phone beep, so I pick it up and then all at once, the bottom falls out of my world.

  ‘When are you coming home Mae? I miss you. Philip x’

  Who the fuck is Philip?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  MAE

  ‘Right, we’ve about 500 km to do today. Pops has us booked into Kiskunmajsa for tonight, which is in the Great Southern Plains of Hungary,’ I say.

  ‘What’s the campsite sound like?’ Evie asks.

  ‘I’ve no idea. I just have an address,’ I reply.

  ‘I reckon we should be realistic with our expectations. It could be quite basic,’ Olly says. He sounds off.

  ‘You okay?’ I ask him.

  ‘Fine.’ Clipped, curt tones again. Followed by a dirty look.

  He’s quite obviously not okay. I can’t work out what the hell is wrong with him. One minute we’re having a great time, then he’s gone all moody and silent again. Maybe the letter from Pops has shaken him.

  ‘From what I can gather on Captain Kirk, our halfway mark today is Budapest. Let’s stop there for an hour, get lunch and maybe pick up some Wi-Fi. We can see what we’re dealing with then,’ Olly suggests.

  ‘That’s a good plan. It would be an awful pity to not at least have a quick look around Budapest, when we are driving right through it,’ I say.

  ‘Right kids. Buckle up, we’re off,’ Olly says, ignoring me. Yep, definitely me he’s pissed off with.

  ‘Best thing I bought for this trip,’ I say, pointing to the AA driving guidebook for Europe. ‘It says here that you need to have your headlights dipped at all times. It’s compulsory during daylight hours.’

  ‘Fine,’ Olly replies.

  ‘And we’ll need to stop at a gas station near the border to get our e-vignette stickers for the toll again. And according to this, they really frown on speeding,’ I tell him.

  ‘For God’s sake, Mae, it’s not like Nomad is even capable of breaking any speed limits,’ Olly says. ‘Would you stop nagging?’

  Philip’s text flashes into my mind. Shit. There’s no way Olly saw that – is there? I replied to him straight away and told him to stop contacting me. I told him I wasn’t interested. Then I deleted the message.

  Cold sweat dribbles down my back. No. He couldn’t know about Philip. I look at Olly again. There’s no way he could have seen that text. My stomach flips.

  Why do I have such a bad feeling, then? I should have told him about him. I’ll tell him tonight.

  Within an hour, we cross the border, saying goodbye to Austria.

  As it’s motorway for at least 140 km, Olly doesn’t need me as co-pilot, so I join the kids in the back to watch a DVD, grateful to escape from the oppressive atmosphere.

  ‘How will we go back to driving around in a car after this?’ I say to the kids.

  An hour and half later, I climb back up front with Olly. We’re close to Budapest.<
br />
  ‘So we just have a drive around? Then find somewhere for lunch?’ Olly asks.

  ‘Yeah, I think so,’ I say. ‘There’s a real East-meets-West vibe here, isn’t there?’

  ‘Hmm …’ Olly answers, distracted. ‘I’m not sure I’m going to get parking.’

  ‘Look, it’s not the end of the world if we don’t stop here,’ I say. ‘Let’s try and soak up as much as we can from driving around for a bit. Then if we see a good spot to park up, out of the city, great stuff. But it’s more important for us that we get to Romania on time.’

  We drive over a series of elegant bridges and watch the landscape change from flat to hilly as we go.

  ‘That’s the Chain Bridge!’ I say. ‘I’d hoped we’d see that.’

  So Olly drives over it and we start climbing hills that give us stunning views. We pass by many intricate-designed buildings that are magnificent.

  I spot a sign to Buda Castle. ‘Must be parking there – a tourist attraction,’ I say.

  So we head that way and Olly parks up Nomad. We climb the stairway and once we get to the top we not only get to see the impressive castle, we get breathtaking views of Budapest below.

  ‘I like those bright-coloured rooftops,’ Evie says, snapping some pictures.

  ‘At least we are getting a good bird’s-eye view of the city,’ I say to Olly.

  He ignores me and walks over to Evie, laughing as she takes his picture.

  Yep, it’s me he’s got the hump with. Not the kids.

  We find a restaurant within walking distance and all order some traditional Hungarian goulash or gulyás as it’s called here, except Olly, who insists on getting a burger with chips. I can’t help thinking that he’s doing that to make a point to me.

  The goulash is spicy and aromatic and quite delicious.

  ‘OMG, look at the campsite we’re going to,’ Evie screams, making me almost choke mid-mouthful. We all take a look at the website that is causing her to squeal so much.