‘Let’s get you home,’ she said. She’d seen Tessa blank Valerie and was disgusted. ‘Just tomorrow to go and then you can collapse in a heap and cry your eyes out and stay in bed with your head under the pillows, and I’ll mind Briony.’
The thought of a day in bed, crying her eyes out with no one to worry about got Valerie through the Mass and burial the next day. ‘I can go home and go to bed and cry when this is over,’ she repeated to herself like a mantra.
‘Look, Mommy, there’s a treasure chest. Why is that there?’ Briony asked, astonished, pointing to the coffin as they walked up to the front seat for the funeral Mass. It was the first time she’d ever seen one.
‘Because it’s treasure for Holy God,’ Valerie explained, thinking how wonderful her daughter’s innocence was. Jeff was treasure for his creator, she supposed, and that thought comforted her as she sat through the Mass, trying not to cry when the choir sang ‘Nearer My God to Thee’ and the Folk Group sang ‘Here I am Lord’. Lorcan had asked if there was any hymn she wanted and she had chosen that one.
Briony, feeling bored, clambered over Lisa and Lorcan to get to Tessa to play with her pearls. ‘Gramma,’ she called, ‘did you see the treasure chest for Holy God?’
A smile crossed her grandmother’s face. ‘I did, darling. Now hush, love, be a good girl and don’t make a noise.’
Valerie bristled inwardly. Briony wasn’t making noise. She was only a little girl, for God’s sake, asking an innocent question. Her indignation helped get her through the rest of the Mass. Who did Tessa Egan think she was, bossing Briony around? Was this what it was always going to be like? This stress? This pull and push? Was she going to have to put up with this woman for the rest of her life? Her thoughts rampaged through her mind as Father O’Shea read the epistle and gospel.
And how was she going to manage when she went back to work? She had to leave home by seven thirty a.m. to drive to Dublin to get to work on time, and Jeff had always dressed Briony and given her breakfast, then driven her to Tessa or Carmel’s, before going to work himself. She would be up at six, and Briony too, if she had to take her daughter to either of her grandmothers for minding.
And could she afford to, and did she want to stay in that house she and Jeff were renting? There were too many memories. Too many memories in Rockland’s too. Everywhere she went she would see him or remember something of their past. Would she be better off making a fresh start somewhere else? She closed her eyes and listened to the strains of ‘Ave Maria’ float through the church as the congregation took Communion. So many questions. So many decisions.
‘Mommy, why are you dripping water from your eyes?’ Briony asked, tugging at her sleeve.
‘Sorry, darling, I have something in my eye,’ she whispered back, utterly relieved when the priest finally began the last part of the ceremony by asking the Angels to accompany Jeff to paradise.
Outside the church Jeff’s teammates formed a guard of honour, and it was just as well that Carmel had taken Briony to go and get an ice cream because the sight of his friends and teammates, all strong young men, with tears streaming down their cheeks, undid Valerie and she wept onto Lizzie’s shoulder with broken-hearted sorrow.
When she emerged into the sunlight she was immediately surrounded by a cluster of friends and colleagues who had travelled down from Dublin for the funeral. Their kindness and care was something she would think about often in the future. That all of them would take the trouble to be with her in her hour of need was a source of great comfort, as were the many messages, including a lovely note from Mrs Maguire, that Valerie had received since news of Jeff’s death had filtered out.
As she watched Jeff’s coffin being lowered into the grave, gripping Lizzie tightly by the hand, seeing Lorcan with his head bowed, craggy face creased in anguish, and Lisa and Tessa sobbing brokenly, Valerie knew she had to get away from Rockland’s. There was nothing here for her now. Just pain and grief and strife. If she never came back again it would not bother her, she thought disconsolately as Tessa threw a rose onto the coffin and glared at Valerie as she did the same.
It was over and the house was strangely silent. The sitting room that had been dominated by Jeff’s coffin was full of vases of slightly drooping blooms, and Tessa fetched a jug of water to revive them, glad of something to do. Lorcan had gone to take an elderly relative back to his nursing home. Lisa had gone home to her own house, but had assured Tessa she would be back to help tidy up. And Steven had gone back up to the graveyard to bring back the name cards on the wreaths so she would know who to thank when she sent out her acknowledgements and memory cards.
Tessa felt dead inside; flat and dispirited and more lonely than she had ever felt in her life. Empty and hollow couldn’t even begin to describe it. She refreshed the flowers, put the jug back on the counter top and went upstairs. She walked into Jeff’s bedroom, still with its teenage posters of racing cars and Farah Fawcett Majors, decorating the pale blue walls.
Her son’s kitbag was on the bed. One of his friends had given it to Lorcan at the hospital, and he had taken Jeff’s football boots and clothes from the nurse and packed them into it. She would never wash his shirt, ever, Tessa thought, burying her head in its mucky folds. She held it close, like treasure. She would keep this for herself. And she would keep his room the way it was so she could come in here and be with him, she decided. She took out his towel. It was still fresh because he hadn’t showered after his match. She should give that to Valerie, she supposed. But then Valerie might want his football shirt. No, Tessa decided. She wasn’t getting her hands on that; she had enough of Jeff’s clothes. Tessa would keep the kitbag and all that was in it, his toiletries, everything. She was his mother, she deserved some small little part of him, she thought desolately. She could smell a ripe banana and she rooted around and found it in a brown paper bag, soft and black, and took it out to discard it. There was another bag tucked in a pocket at the side. She opened it and burst into tears. Her heart twisted with pain as she stood there alone, rummaging through her beloved son’s belongings. She zipped up the bag, opened the wardrobe door and laid it on the bottom among old shoes and trainers. Only she would know it was there, this last and final part of him.
She took Jeff’s football shirt, got under the patchwork quilt on his bed and held it tightly. Exhaustion overcame her, her eyes closed and for the first time since her son had died, Tessa slept.
‘I’m not staying here,’ Valerie said to Lizzie as they sat in front of the fire, sipping cocoa and eating toast.
‘Don’t make any hasty decisions,’ advised her friend, licking melted butter off her fingers.
‘I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to have to endure Tessa’s antipathy, and Dad’s annoyance with the fact that I’m an unmarried mother for good now, and will never be free of the “stigma”, as he calls it. He was nearly going to have another go at Tessa today in the graveyard, only Mam read him the riot act and told him not to disgrace us in front of the neighbours, and that got to him. You know him and his image. But I can’t be listening to that kind of stuff every time I go home to Mam with Briony. And I don’t want him saying things like that when she’s older. I don’t want her to feel she’s in any way different from her friends here.’
‘I know. He’s the old school of thinking. London is so different. Honestly, nobody gives a hoot. It’s very liberating. We are so bamboozled with guilt by the Church and society here it’s very wearing on the spirit. There’s a sad lacking of real Christianity.’ Lizzie threw another log on the fire and they watched it spark and blaze.
Valerie yawned. Waves of fatigue had washed over her once the funeral was over. She had come straight home from the graveyard and not gone to partake of the refreshments the Egans were providing in the hotel. Tessa would not want her there and she did not want to be there.
‘Why don’t you go to bed?’ Lizzie suggested.
‘I hate being in the bed without Jeff. I hate sitting at the kitchen table looking
at his empty chair. I can’t stay in this house. I keep expecting him to walk through the door. It’s doing my head in,’ Valerie sighed. ‘And anyway, with just one salary coming in now I can’t afford to pay the rent for this place. It’s too big for us, and I have to pay a fortune for petrol for that commute. And besides, having to get Briony up so early so I can get to work on time is not practical. It was different when Jeff . . . when Jeff . . .’ She swallowed hard, but couldn’t say ‘was alive’. ‘He used to get her dressed and bring her to Mam’s or Tessa’s because he had loads of time to get to work. I won’t have that,’ she amended.
‘Well, I suppose if you are thinking of going back to Dublin, at least you know the city. It’s not as if it was your first time living there, and Briony’s the right age. She hasn’t started school yet so it won’t be as big a wrench,’ Lizzie said slowly. ‘And you’ve plenty of friends from work to help out. They were great the way they all travelled down for the funeral.’
‘Yeah, they’re a good bunch. The only big drawback to moving back is taking Briony away from all she knows, but, like you say, she’s at the right age and she’ll be going to school next year. She’ll love that because she’s very sociable.’
‘And you’ll be able to bring her down here for holidays,’ Lizzie reminded her.
Valerie shook her head. ‘I won’t be coming back. Mam can come up and stay with me in Dublin whenever she wants.’
‘And what about Tessa?’ Lizzie enquired delicately.
‘What about her?’ Valerie said dismissively. ‘That lady – and I use the term lightly – has seen the last of me.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
‘Ring me when you’re there safe and sound, won’t you, Valerie?’ Carmel said dejectedly as her daughter closed the boot of her Toyota Corolla and came to stand beside her.
‘Just as well I changed the car last year. I’d never have fitted everything into the Mini or the Renault,’ Valerie said wryly, surveying the front seat of her car, which was crammed with an assortment of plastic bags on top of a black sack. ‘So you’ll lock up and leave the key in Donnelly’s.’ She kept her back to the house so she wouldn’t have to look at it.
‘Granny, look at Molly!’ Briony waved her new doll with the long brown hair at her. She was brushing it diligently and making pigtails, chatting away to Molly.
‘She’s a lovely doll, sweetie. You should be a hairdresser you’re so good at doing hair. You have fun in your new house and I’ll see you at the weekend. We’ll go to the park and I’ll push you on the swing,’ Carmel said tenderly.
‘Real high up into the sky, Granny?’
‘Real high into the sky,’ promised Carmel, smiling.
‘I’ll see you at the weekend, Mam, and thanks for everything. I’m going to go quickly now, otherwise I’ll start crying.’ Valerie gave her mother a quick hug, got into the car and started the engine. She didn’t look back as she drove away from the house where she’d been so happy with Jeff. She was glad she didn’t have to go through the village; that would have been hard. There were so many memories to leave behind, especially when she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. She drove to the crossroads, took a left turn and pulled up a few minutes later outside the graveyard. She took from the seat beside her the bouquet of pink and yellow roses she had cut fresh from the garden that morning and got out of the car.
‘Do you want to come or do you want to play with Molly?’ Valerie asked her daughter, hoping she would stay in the car.
‘I’ll bring Molly with me,’ Briony said cheerfully, trying to unhook her seat belt. ‘Are we going into the garden with all the flowers again?’
‘Yes, darling, just one last time,’ Valerie said as her daughter slipped her hand into hers and they walked through the wrought-iron gates to the peaceful country cemetery. The fog that had rolled in off the sea earlier was lifting and a hazy sun was beginning to break through. Autumn leaves of red and gold fashioned the bracelet of oak trees that encircled the graveyard. The breeze played with them, tossing them gently as they floated down into crisp deep piles. Valerie filled a container with water from the tap by the gate and Briony let go of her hand and skipped along ahead, knowing exactly where to go. Half-way up the gravel path and to the right, a mound of loamy brown earth – with a small wooden cross adorned with a gold plaque with Jeff’s name and dates of birth and death – was covered with pots of vibrant polyanthus and pansies that Tessa had made up. It would be months before the grave had settled and the headstone could be put in place. She was glad in one way not to see it. A headstone was so final. The Mass for his Month’s Mind had taken place the previous week and Valerie could hardly believe that Jeff was five weeks dead.
She cleared the remnants of the roses she’d brought the last time she’d visited, filled the vase with fresh water and arranged the sweet-scented roses carefully. They looked so soft and pretty, and gave off a perfume that filled her nostrils.
‘They are very, very lovely, Mommy,’ Briony exclaimed, stroking a petal when Valerie held the vase out for her to smell them.
‘These are for Daddy. He can see us putting them here for him while he’s working for Holy God up in heaven,’ Valerie explained.
‘Daddy, Daddy,’ Briony called, waving vigorously up to the sky. ‘Tell God you have to come back down and push me on my swing,’ she yelled, peering heavenward, hoping to see her daddy. ‘Will he come down on a cloud just like Mary Poppins?’ she asked Valerie, who was trying hard not to dissolve into tears.
‘No. God needs him to do some more work for him,’ Valerie said, her heart breaking as she looked into her daughter’s trusting brown eyes.
‘But I miss my daddy, I haven’t seen him in ages!’ she said plaintively.
‘Oh, so do I, Briony,’ Valerie said with heartfelt empathy. ‘Now we had better go and bring Molly to our new house.’ She swallowed hard and knelt down at the grave. ‘Jeff, I won’t be back. I leave you to your mother’s care, sleep well,’ she said, placing the vase in front of the cross. ‘I love you.’
‘Why are you talking to the garden?’ Briony asked, perplexed. ‘You should be talking up there.’ She pointed heavenwards.
‘I should indeed, Briony. What would I do without you to tell me things?’ Valerie bent down and kissed her. She blessed herself and, taking her daughter’s hand, walked out of the graveyard after placing the discarded roses on the neat hillock of grass cuttings at the gate. The sun emerged triumphantly through the fine grey cloak that had kept it hidden, vanquishing the last of the haze, and warming her face as they reached the car. She could smell the sea on the breeze, see the blue of the sky appearing, and hear the birds singing in the trees. She envied Jeff his resting place of peace and serenity. He had no cares or woes or grief and regrets and she was filled to bursting with them, she thought with an edge of bitterness, wishing she still didn’t feel that he had abandoned them.
She secured Briony into her seat, got into the car and started the engine. This was her last stop. This was where she said goodbye. A new life waited for her. Heavy-hearted, Valerie started the engine and headed north.
Carmel gave the counter top a last run over with the dishcloth and popped it into a plastic bag containing dusters and tea towels, ready for a wash. She looked out into the garden where she had pushed her grandchild on her swing countless times. Valerie had cut the grass and weeded the flowerbeds, and Donnelly’s Estate Agents would have no complaints when she handed them back the keys on her daughter’s behalf.
The house was eerily empty, as if all the energy had been sucked out of it. It had once been a house of laughter, and childish cries of glee, a happy house. It would be so again when some new family took up residence. At least Valerie would have those priceless memories to look back on when she was able to. For now, Carmel understood her daughter’s need to get away and start afresh where there was nothing of Jeff to remind her of what she had lost.
Valerie had made her promise that she would never tell Tessa her new address.
Carmel wasn’t happy about it, or the fact that the other woman had no idea that Valerie was upping sticks and moving for good.
‘I don’t want her in my life. She said appalling things to me when Jeff died. She wouldn’t talk to me at the funeral so now she can take the consequences,’ Valerie said angrily when Carmel had said Tessa had a right to see Briony.
‘The flight into Egypt,’ Lizzie had called it. Trust Lizzie. Carmel smiled. She was a true friend, of that there was no doubt, and she was so glad her daughter had Lizzie in her life.
Sadness filled her. She would not see her beloved daughter and grandchild every day as she had these past few years. They had filled her life with pleasure and given her something to look forward to. Now it was just her and Terence again. Carmel sighed, watching the lemon sorbet sun burst out through the filmy haze that had veiled the sky, its light diff used in delicate pastel rays that fell onto the milky sea.
Terence had given her an envelope with money in it for Valerie, and she had slipped it into her daughter’s cavernous handbag for her to find when she got to Dublin. He hadn’t come to say goodbye. He had made no effort to get to know his grandchild, and now she was gone from him and he would never get the chance again. Carmel, to her surprise, found herself feeling immensely sorry for him that his bitterness and stubbornness had kept him from such a gift as Briony.
‘Thank you for your shelter and your comfort,’ she said aloud to the house as she locked the heavy wooden blue door for the last time and walked down the path, feathered with lobelia still, and closed the garden gate behind her, leaving the place bathed in sunlight.
Terence glanced at his watch: ten thirty. Valerie would be on the road to Dublin now and he was glad she was getting out of Rockland’s. It was no place for her in her single state with that fatherless child. Carmel had told him that she had found a house to rent, not too far from where she’d lived before. So she was going to familiar territory. He didn’t know Dublin at all, but from what Carmel had told him it seemed a nice enough area.
With All My Love Page 31
