Our Secrets and Lies

by Sinéad Moriarty

  ‘No.’

  ‘A lot of people?’

  ‘Some people.’

  ‘How many views and how many comments, Shannon?’

  Shannon shrugged. How could she possibly tell her that there were three hundred views and about a hundred comments? ‘Like, about twenty or so.’

  Kelly bit her lip. ‘It must be bad if you’re lying to me.’

  ‘Looking at it and reading messages from horrible people isn’t going to make you feel better. It’s a good thing you have no phone. It’ll be yesterday’s news tomorrow. Just try to forget about it. Come on, let’s go to my house and I’ll do your make-up. I got some really cool new Charlotte Tilbury eyeshadow.’

  Kelly bit her raw thumbnail. ‘No, thanks. I’ve got a splitting headache. I think I’ll just go home.’

  ‘Ah, come on, Kelly, come back with me. We’ll put on some music and eat ice cream and have fun.’

  Kelly picked up her bag. ‘Thanks, maybe tomorrow. If Mum lets me.’

  Shannon watched her friend walk towards her house. Her back was hunched, like she was a hundred-year-old woman with the troubles of the world on her shoulders. Shannon didn’t know how Kelly was coping with all the crap that was being thrown at her. It was coming from every side. She was worried about her. Shannon pulled out her phone and took screen shots of all the nasty messages on Facebook. Just in case there was any trouble, she could help Kelly defend herself.

  She’d call Kelly on the house phone later and check on her. House phone? It was like living in the Dark Ages.

  46

  It was the day of the final. Lucy was so nervous she could hardly stand still. If St Jude’s won the cup it would cement Dylan’s place in the school, and help put the events of the past week behind them for good.

  She was on the sideline with Jenny, Sarah and Darren. Billy and Ollie stood apart, Billy telling Ollie who all the players were and what positions they played. Shannon and Kelly were a little away from them, chatting and staring at their phones.

  ‘I see you gave Kelly back her phone,’ Jenny noted.

  Lucy sighed. ‘She’s been so unhappy and you, Sarah, Dylan and even Dad told me to give her a break, so I caved and gave it back to her. She’s a good kid and I do realize that she did what she did for the right reasons. We all need to move on.’

  ‘Good for you.’ Jenny squeezed her arm. ‘She still looks miserable, though. I’ll try to get a chat with her later, see how she’s doing.’

  ‘How are things with you and Frank?’ Darren asked. ‘Has his mad ex been around to throw any more drink over you or torch the place?’

  Jenny smiled. ‘No – thanks for asking, though, Darren. Actually, Frank has decided to move out.’

  ‘Why?’ Darren asked.

  ‘He said I was impossible to live with.’ Jenny feigned shock.

  ‘What tipped him over the edge?’ Sarah grinned. ‘The constant cleaning? The lack of food? The unwashed shirts?’

  ‘All of those and the lack of sex, my constant “headaches” and my nagging.’

  ‘Sounds like an average day in our house.’ Darren laughed, as Sarah thumped his arm.

  ‘Is he really going?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Yes, big sister, he is and, yes, I am going to avoid falling for married men in the future. They are a lot less attractive when their smelly socks and jocks are all over your flat and they stink out your toilet.’

  ‘Sounds familiar.’ Sarah pinched Darren.

  ‘So he goes tomorrow,’ Jenny said, ‘and I’m going to clean my place from top to bottom and luxuriate in being alone. If you don’t see me for a few days, I’m just in blissful solitude!’

  ‘Good for you,’ Lucy said.

  ‘I’ve realized I need to be with someone who has their own place, is completely independent and only comes over when it suits me.’

  ‘Good luck with finding him.’ Sarah laughed.

  ‘Damien was like that,’ Lucy noted.

  ‘So why the hell did you break up with him?’ Darren asked.

  ‘I was wrong about him. He’s perfect,’ Jenny said.

  ‘Call him,’ Sarah urged.

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s over. I’m fine about it,’ Lucy lied. She missed him and his company, the sex and the attention.

  ‘Sssh, you lot, no more chat. The match is about to start. We need to concentrate,’ Billy said.

  Lucy crossed her fingers and the whistle blew. There was a big crowd at the match: St Jude’s were playing the favourites, Celtic United. They were a very strong club.

  Dylan bounced up and down on his toes and took off with the ball, but he was tackled by a big defender. The ball whizzed past as each team defended and attacked in equal measure. There was nothing in it: the teams were evenly matched.

  Dylan struck the ball well, but the goalie saved it. A minute later, the striker on the other team belted a ball towards the St Jude’s goal, but it hit the crossbar. On it went, up and down, until half-time.

  ‘Jesus, my heart,’ Billy said. ‘This is some game.’

  Lucy felt it too – the tension was unbelievable. Beside her, Sarah was taking photos and videos.

  ‘Dylan’s playing brilliantly – he’s giving it everything,’ Darren said. ‘You can’t ask for more than that.’

  The second half was the same, and it was still nil–all with three minutes to go. Lucy could see Dylan was beginning to tire – he’d run his heart out. He looked at her. She pointed to his boots. He grinned.

  The St Jude winger ran up and crossed a high ball in to Dylan. It was too high. Dylan began to run backwards to try to catch the ball as it came down. Lucy watched him as he flung himself into the air as high as he could and just managed to connect the top of his head with the ball. It sailed over the goalie’s head and into the net.

  The place erupted. Dylan’s teammates all piled on top of him. One–nil and two minutes to go. Those two minutes seemed an eternity, but they got through it, defended well and came out winners.

  People came over to hug Lucy and pat her on the back. Everyone was talking about the striker who had saved the day. Dylan was the hero of St Jude’s, just like Lucy had dreamt he would be. She wanted to scream and jump and punch the air. He’s my son, she wanted to shout. The boy I raised alone, a hero.

  Lucy was surrounded and basking in the praise of all the parents, past pupils and students when she saw him. He was standing talking to Mr Gough.

  Her heart stopped and everything went really still. Gabriel Harrington-Black. Lucy began to shake. He looked the same. Older, greyer, but the same arrogant face. The same expensive navy coat. The same loud voice.

  Everything around her seemed to quieten and she could hear his voice: ‘… Marvellous footballer. Is that the scholarship boy?’

  Mr Gough nodded. ‘Yes, Dylan Murphy, a credit to the school and, indeed, his mother. She’s a single parent, you know, not easy.’

  Lucy’s feet began to move towards them. She felt out of her body, as if she was watching it all from above. She stopped in front of the two men. Mr Gough shook her hand enthusiastically. ‘What a wonderful performance. Dylan was incredible. I’m so proud of him, as I’m sure you are.’

  Lucy was amazed at how calm her voice sounded when her insides were twisting and churning. ‘Yes, I am, very proud of him.’

  Mr Gough turned to Gabriel. ‘Ms Murphy, this is Gabriel Harrington-Black, a former pupil of St Jude’s and indeed one of the board members who signed off on the scholarship for Dylan. He was just saying what an incredible boy he is, a great addition to the school.’

  Lucy smiled and looked directly at Gabriel. ‘Oh, I know Gabriel. We met a long time ago, almost eighteen years ago, if memory serves me correctly. I was at university with his son, Tom.’

  Lucy watched with glee as Gabriel’s face changed. Slowly he realized who she was. As he began to put the pieces of the jigsaw together, his eyes got wider and his mouth fell open.

  ‘Mr Gough,’ a parent called, and the headmaster left them al
one.

  ‘You,’ Gabriel spluttered.

  ‘Yes, me. Lucy Murphy. Mother of the incredible Dylan Murphy. The boy everyone in St Jude’s is hailing as a hero.’

  ‘But how … I don’t …’

  ‘What? You never realized that this boy was your grandson? Why would you? You refused to look at him when you kicked me out of your house all those years ago. Well, it looks like Lucy Murphy, the slut, tart and hussy, turned out to be a pretty good mother after all. Pity you’ll never get to know your grandson. You’d like him – he’s pretty wonderful, and so is his twin sister. But only grandparents who acknowledge their grandchildren and don’t treat them like filth on their shoe get the pleasure of knowing them. You’ll never be able to boast about your talented grandson at the bar with your friends because you rejected him and you gave up the right even to look at him. You stupid, stupid man.’

  ‘Mum.’

  Lucy turned to see Kelly waving at her.

  Gabriel gasped. ‘My God, she’s –’

  ‘The image of her father? Yes, I know. Pity he’ll never get to see her. That’s what happens when you abandon your children and run away to America, like a spineless rat. Well, I’m off to celebrate with my hero son. You have two incredible grandchildren and you will never know them. And you can tell Tom they never missed having a dad because their “slut” of a mother turned out to be pretty damn good. Goodbye.’

  Lucy turned on her heels and walked over to her children. She’d waited so long for that moment and it had felt so good.

  ‘Come on,’ she called to her family. ‘Let’s go and celebrate!’

  47

  Kelly opened the door of the storage cupboard and peered out. No one on the corridor. She wrapped up her uneaten sandwich and stepped out. At least she was able to be at peace in there during lunchtime. No doubt Melissa would find her new hiding place soon enough, but for now it was a safe haven.

  The weekend had been good. Her mum had been in a great mood after Dylan and the team had won the cup, so she was talking normally to her again, smiling and laughing. Kelly was so glad the photo thing seemed to be over, but it was still going to be a long week in school. At least they got their Christmas holidays on Thursday – she was living for that. She could spend time with Shannon and try to meet up with Sean – get her life back. Four more days and she would be safe from the hell of school, and maybe by the time they came back after the holidays the whole Taylor thing would have been forgotten.

  As she walked back to class she heard people nudging and whispering. She was used to it – it happened all the time, especially now. The entire school knew who she was and what she’d done. She ignored them and kept her head down.

  When she got to her desk, William asked her if she’d ‘sort him out’.

  ‘What?’ Kelly said.

  ‘Oh, come on, don’t play Miss Innocent with me. I saw the video. You’re good, Kelly. A real pro.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about? What video?’

  ‘Denial, okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it in school. Why don’t I call you later?’ Brendan reached out and squeezed her bum.

  ‘Sod off.’ Kelly pushed him away.

  She turned to sit down and saw Jonathan pointing to his crotch, mouthing, ‘Me, please.’

  What the hell?

  Melissa strode into the classroom and sat down at her desk. ‘Some girls are just complete whores,’ she announced loudly.

  ‘Slut,’ Chloë hissed.

  ‘BJQ.’ Greg tried to high-five Kelly. All the guys cracked up.

  ‘Nice video, really classy!’ Nina said.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Kelly said.

  Mr Harrow came in and the whispers stopped. Kelly was sweating. What was going on? She asked to be excused and took her phone to the cloakroom.

  When she opened it, there was a text from Shannon. OMG, are you ok? WTF? Was it Melissa? Looks like fake account. Call me.

  Kelly’s hands were shaking. She opened her Facebook account. There was a video of a girl giving a guy a blow job. The girl could only be seen from behind. She looked like Kelly.

  Kelly gasped. No, no, no, no, no. She had to delete this. The video, which was linked to her Facebook page, had come from a blank Facebook page with the title ‘Exposing whores’. Underneath the video on Kelly’s page there were hundreds of messages from guys and girls. Kelly’s phone was beeping and flashing. Messages were flooding in on Facebook.

  Everyone was looking at ‘Kelly’ giving head to a guy online. Girls called her whore and bitch and slut. Guys asked her to call them – I want some, you’re hot, come to our school, my place, I like slutty girls – and then BJQ. BLOW JOB QUEEN.

  Kelly felt a tsunami of emotions crash over her. She leant against the cold tiled wall and wept. She was a joke, a laughing stock, charity case, slut shamer, and now a whore. This would go on and on. It would never, ever end. Everyone would think it was her in the video, no matter how much she denied it. She was now known all over the city as a whore. Kelly Murphy BJQ.

  Kelly dragged herself up and ran out of the toilets, out of the building, out of the school gate. She had to get away from St Jude’s and all the haters. She couldn’t take it any more.

  She pulled out her phone to call Shannon, see if she could meet her, when her phone beeped. Sean! She’d been texting him for two days but hadn’t heard anything back. Thank God, something good.

  Her eyes scanned the message: Hey Kelly, really sorry to do this over text but I know you can’t talk with your psycho mother stalking you. I got your messages and I’ve been thinking, it’s just not going to work out. We’re never going to be able to see each other properly and all the hiding and lying is doing my head in. Besides, your mother made it clear I’m never going to be welcome, so it’s best we just leave it and move on. See you around, if you ever get out of prison! S x

  Kelly stared at the words. They began to blur as her tears fell onto the screen. Sean was breaking up with her. It was over.

  She crossed the road, opened her backpack and pulled the Christmas present she’d bought for him out of her bag. She dropped it into the bin. The gold paper shone brightly among the banana peel and empty coffee cups. The little gold bow fell sideways into a half-eaten sandwich. Tears flowed out of her, like a river bursting its banks. She sobbed as her heart shattered into little pieces.

  48

  When Lucy got home the house was empty. She popped her head into the shop. It was quiet. Billy was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

  ‘How was the naming ceremony?’ he asked.

  ‘Good, thanks, they’re a lovely family. The baby was as good as gold throughout, which is rare. They were all delighted with themselves and even tipped me fifty extra euros. Are Dylan and Kelly not home yet?’

  ‘Dylan’s in the shower, I think. I haven’t seen Kelly.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll have a coffee.’ Lucy went to make herself a latte.

  ‘Dylan told me he’s going out to see Taylor this evening, just to forewarn you.’

  ‘I’ll talk to him,’ Lucy said. ‘As long as he’s home by ten I don’t mind.’

  ‘I wish I’d seen that Gabriel’s face when he realized who Dylan was,’ Billy said, for the millionth time. ‘I just wish you’d waited until I was there to sock it to him.’

  ‘I had to take my opportunity, Dad. I’d waited years for it.’

  ‘God, it must have felt good.’

  ‘It did,’ Lucy said. But the truth was, although it had felt wonderful to meet Gabriel and see his shocked face, when the euphoria of the confrontation had worn off, Lucy had felt kind of flat. She’d spent so much of her life full of rage with him and Tom and had waited so long to say those words to Gabriel that now it was all over she felt deflated. Like a popped balloon.

  It was strange. She’d thought she’d be on a high for months, but it was just a moment, a good moment, but a moment that had now passed.

  She still felt angry and s
he still resented and hated him, but the sting had gone out of it. The anger didn’t well up in her like it used to. Gabriel was an old man now. He wasn’t frightening or intimidating any more, just kind of pathetic.

  It was his loss and her gain. If Gabriel hadn’t been such a bastard, she’d probably have had the abortion. But because he’d been so awful, she’d changed her mind, and look at what she’d got. Instead of feeling triumphant, Lucy just felt really grateful to have the twins. Seeing Gabriel again had brought home to her that the decision she’d made had been the right one.

  ‘Probably a good thing I didn’t see him,’ Billy muttered. ‘I’d have punched his smug face for sure.’

  Lucy smiled. ‘Well, then, I’m glad you didn’t spot him. I don’t need you punching a board member in front of the headmaster. He thinks we’re crazy enough. I’ve had enough drama in the last week to last me a lifetime.’

  Lucy’s phone buzzed. It was Sarah, the third message that day. She needed to talk to Lucy: it was nothing urgent and nothing was wrong, she just wanted a quick chat. Lucy took her coffee into the kitchen and put her phone on the table to remind her to call Sarah back.

  She put her feet up on the opposite chair and sipped her hot coffee – bliss.

  The front door opened and she heard slow footsteps down the hall. Kelly came into the room.

  ‘There you are. I was about to send out a search party. I’ve just come from a gorgeous naming ceremony. It reminded me of your christening, actually. What would you like for dinner? I can make you spaghetti carbonara, if you like.’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I don’t feel very well.’

  Lucy glanced up. ‘You do look a bit pale. Let me get the thermometer and see if you have a temperature.’

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ Kelly said.

  Dylan came down the stairs and into the room. ‘I’m off.’

  Lucy pursed her lips. ‘Okay, love, but remember it’s a school night,’ she said. ‘What time will you be back at?’