Her Revolution

by Gemma Jackson

  It was like old times, the three of them sitting and listening to the sound of the ocean in the background. The whispers of Emmet and Rolf as they carried on a soft-voiced argument in German was very familiar to her. She knew these two would wait until she was ready to discuss whatever was bothering her.

  “It began on my birthday ...”

  For the next while Finn’s was the only voice heard over the screaming of the gulls and the whisper of the ocean. She held nothing back. She shared everything she had discovered about her own life since that disastrous birthday when she’d been forced to open her eyes. She truly believed she was guilty of allowing herself to be treated like a doormat. All anyone had to do to let that happen was lie down and allow people to wipe their feet on you. She’d done that – all unknowingly.

  A sea breeze chased the sand onto their food and the blanket but they ignored it. The men sat comfortably on the blanket, shoulders touching, giving her their time and complete attention. They didn’t interrupt her but she was aware of them exchanging glances as she told her tale of woe.

  “My boys are being affected by the poisonous atmosphere in the house – I won’t allow that,” she at last concluded. She tried, she really did, not to sound self-pitying but she could hear the whine in her voice.

  “What are you planning to do now?” Emmet asked the question while Rolf refilled their cups. They had almost emptied the flasks. The delicious fare from the bakery was only crumbs now. They had eaten everything Rolf had brought with him.

  “That’s just it. I have no idea.” Could she make anyone understand how lost and alone she felt? She couldn’t return to her childhood and hide behind these two men. They would allow her – but she had to stand on her own two feet – she was an adult for heaven’s sake. But the world seemed a big cold place to her.

  “Did you want to travel with us for a while?” Emmet asked, knowing the answer before the question left his lips.

  “No – thank you – but I think not.”

  “We have a suggestion,” Rolf said, touching Emmet’s arm gently to keep him quiet for the moment. Rolf knew how much it hurt Emmet that Finn rejected the life they had given her. Emmet had never been able to understand how his only child could long for the life he had run away from.

  “Suggestions welcome. I have to make some kind of decision about my future. I need a plan for my life and where I want to go from here.” She smiled at the two men. They sat comfortably on the blanket, shoulders touching, giving her their time and complete attention.

  “That’s because you insist on planning too far ahead!” Emmet felt he’d been silent long enough. “You were the same as a little kid. We would barely have survived the New Year and you were demanding our plans for Christmas. Jesus, you could never take life one day at a time. What is the point of planning every little step of your life? Where is the surprise – the wonder – the adventure in that?”

  “I’m not like you, Da. We know that,” Finn said softly. “I want a normal life. Is that too much to ask? I can’t be like the pair of you constantly on the move – always looking for the next adventure – curious about what’s over the horizon. I’m sorry, but I can’t live like that.”

  “Not can’t, won’t!” Emmet shouted. “There’s a bloody big difference, you know!”

  “Now, now, you two, this will get us nowhere.” Rolf stepped in to stop these two saying something they would both regret later.

  “I’m sorry, Rolf.” Emmet jumped up and paced around the blanket. “You’re right, as usual.” He shoved his hands through his hair, staring down at the two on the blanket. “It burns me up to hear her harping on the same oul’ song. She wants a normal life, she says – well,” he threw back his head and roared towards the sky, “would you mind telling me, miss,what the bloody hell is normal?” He was frustrated with Finn’s blindness to everything life had to offer except her imagined ‘normal’.

  “Finn, as I see it,” Rolf ignored Emmet’s outburst, “you are at a crossroad in your life. You made a decision when you were very young – too young we believed at the time – anyway, that’s neither here nor there – the decision was made.”

  He looked towards the sea, trying to gather his thoughts so that his words would reach Finn’s stubborn head. He sighed deeply. He should be used to the high drama of life with these two by now, surely.

  “Finn, you wanted what you insist on calling a normal life and went after it with single-minded determination. You lived that life for over twenty years and appeared to be blissfully happy. Yet now you come to us and tell us you no longer want that life. What are we to think? How can we help you? You never listened to us in the past, never believed we knew anything about ‘normal’ but we are the place you come for answers.”

  Emmet dropped down on his knees. “Let’s pack up here and return to the campsite. I fancy making a delicious lunch. We’ll walk back to the campsite and continue this conversation in comfort. I’m getting too old to be sitting for hours on a blanket on the beach.”

  They gathered up their belongings and let the subject drop for the moment.

  As soon as they arrived back at the campsite Emmet took over. He ordered the other two around like a sergeant major. They prepared a slap-up meal for three. Emmet was never willing to compromise when it came to food. Finn talked about her trip around the area and mentioned some of her surprise discoveries while they ate the delicious meal of seafood, salad and pasta that Emmet had seemingly thrown together. The other two made suggestions about things to see and do. It was all very civilized but underneath there was tension.

  “I don’t know what I want,” Finn finally admitted as they sipped orange-flavoured liqueur from tiny glasses. The campsite had been tidied and they were sitting relaxing. “The first eighteen years of my life I spent with you two living like a nomad.” Finn was trying to get her thoughts straight in her own head. “I was always jealous of the people who lived in the places we passed. I dreamed of a settled life. Patrick Brennan offered me that and I grabbed at it with both hands. I know I hurt you both by wanting something different from all that you gave me. I felt so grown up at eighteen, ready to make my own way.” Looking back as an adult she could see how she had hurt these two. “I’m sorry that it hurt you but it was a choice I had to make, for me, and I can’t regret that decision. I have two sons that I love. I lived the dream life I wanted for twenty-one years. The time has come for me to make a new decision. I can’t begin to make any plans until I have some idea of where I am going from here. I feel like one of those hamsters running around on a wheel in a cage. I keep running madly but I’m getting nowhere.”

  “We have not told you the reason we chased after you this morning,” Rolf said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. He looked at Emmet, waiting to see if he wanted to open the discussion.

  “Yes, old Brainbox here,” Emmet lightly punched Rolf’s shoulder, “has a master plan. You can’t beat Rolf when it comes to financial planning. You know that, daughter.”

  “Finn,” Rolf decided he’d better be the one to explain – you never knew what Emmet would say next, “when you moved into the house in Rathmines it was a wreck. Sad and neglected from years of abuse – you totally remodelled the building. You dragged that house back to life. You selected the designs and did all of the decoration. You even did some of the plastering, plumbing and electrical work yourself. I remember how impressed we both were with your skills.”

  “We never did figure out how you learned to do all of that stuff. You certainly hadn’t learned any of it from us.” Emmet remembered the pictures she had sent them during that time, a faithful record of the before-and-after transformation of her home.

  “I learned from books and asking people for help.” Finn still kept her hand in every time anything needed repairing or work needed to be done on the house.

  “Yes, but you did all the manual labour, Finn,” Rolf said. “Patrick never helped with that end of things. In time you had two small children underfoot and a
home to run, yet you still worked like a Trojan turning that house into what it is today.”

  “I enjoyed every second of it. Do you think I should hire myself out as a painter and decorator?” Finn was being facetious.

  “Exactly!” Rolf slapped the wooden picnic table and almost giggled he was so pleased with himself.

  The two men roared with laughter at the stunned look on Finn’s face.

  “But ... but …” Finn stared at the two men as if they had lost their minds.

  “Listen, please listen,” Rolf said. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.” He waited until Finn had caught her breath and was giving him her full attention. “We,” he shook a thumb between Emmet and himself, “own two old railway cottages on the seafront in Bray, County Wicklow.”

  “On the advice of Brainbox here,” Emmet put his two-cents-worth in, “we bought the cottages many years ago.”

  “Yes, it was one of those deals whereby you buy the property at a reduced price but allow the former owner to live out their natural lives in it.” Rolf looked at Finn to see if she was following along. “It was a very popular system in the seventies – you will have heard of such a thing?”

  Finn had heard of the scheme. When she was about fourteen or fifteen a young French lawyer had bought a house from an old lady – one of the first under the scheme. The lady had lived to one hundred and twenty years of age. She had outlived the much younger lawyer by at least twenty years. Every year on the woman’s birthday the media ran jokey articles about the woman and the lawyer. Finn had never known that Emmet and Rolf were involved in the scheme, nor had she known they owned property in Ireland.

  “The old dear I bought the house from died after a full and happy life.” Emmet shrugged. He would not pretend a sadness he didn’t feel. He hadn’t known the woman on a personal level.

  “The family I purchased the neighbouring house from have all moved away and now the last living member wishes to leave the house,” Rolf said. “He wishes to move into an old folks’ community. He is very old and his family have become concerned for his safety. So – soon the two cottages will be empty and they are in dire need of a makeover.” He almost bounced on his seat he was so excited. Everything was coming together. They would be able to help out their little one and offer her a lifeline at the same time.

  “And what has this to do with me?” she asked, but she could see where the conversation was heading.

  “We think you should go and work on the two cottages. They are adjoining properties. We would like them made into one large property. We admired what you did with the house in Rathmines. We know and trust you. We believe you can do this.”

  “We will of course pay you a salary and cover the cost of contractors and supplies,” Emmet said. “We want you to oversee the project. Be our eyes and ears on site, so to speak.”

  “But I have no idea of your taste when it comes to houses or what you would want done to the properties,” Finn said. “And I can’t see you settling down in a cottage in Bray, Da. No matter how big a cottage it might be when you’ve finished turning two properties into one.”

  “As far as we can recollect, the properties are wrecks by modern standards,” said Rolf. “We need you to first see what needs to be done. You should do a walk-through and get an idea of the work involved before we can talk about anything else. Take some digital photos and email them to us. We can discuss all of this in greater detail later. But first tell us – are you interested?”

  “I would love to do it,” Finn said, feeling the blood move through her body in a rush. “But have you two any idea of the cost involved? It’s not cheap doing over two houses.”

  “We have money.” Emmet dismissed that problem with a laugh. “Thanks to old Brainbox.” He pushed lightly at Rolf. “He has been investing our money for years – all of your life and more. Rolf was a computer nerd long before such a thing was world-famous.”

  “This would give you the breathing space you need and let you decide what you want to do with your life.” Rolf smiled at the dawning pleasure on Finn’s face. It was good to see their little beauty light up from within with a glowing smile. He had missed that look on her face.

  Finn had a hard time sleeping that night. She could not believe that Emmet and Rolf had managed to save her life, yet again. She tossed and turned in her sleeping bag, listening to the sound of the campground settling down for the night. Her mind buzzed with so many plans.

  Giving up on sleep, she crawled out of her tent when the sun was just peeking over the horizon. She had the shower block to herself. It was too early for anyone else to be up and about. She took a long hot shower in the spotlessly clean building then stood combing out her wet hair in front of one of a group of mirrors over the hand-basins – short hair was so much easier to manage.

  When Emmet and Rolf roused themselves it was still early. Finn was waiting for them with a selection of mouth-watering breads from the bakery. While the coffee scented the morning air, she waited for the two men to exit their camper van.

  They took the coffee from her with words of gratitude. They examined her closely without saying a word. Finn had changed in some subtle fashion. She looked and acted years younger and lighter of heart.

  Talk turned again to the cottages in Bray. It took hours and oceans of tea and coffee but finally they put together a tentative plan for the cottages. It was impossible to make detailed plans without her first viewing the properties in question but Emmet and Rolf gave her a general idea of what they wanted and she agreed to oversee the project. She had a plan now and a place to start. She was excited to see what she could do with the opportunity given her. She couldn’t wait to get started.

  Emmet stood with Finn on the driver side of the car. She was leaving.

  “Finn, that house in Rathmines belongs to my family. Patrick Brennan is my tenant. I can give him notice to quit if you want.” He saw the look of dawning realisation on her face. “He has lived in my ancestral home paying a ridiculously low rent for twenty-one years.” He hit the hood of the car with his open hand. “That is something you need to think on as you drive home.” He opened the driver’s door and waited while Finn seated herself. “Keep in touch, kid. I love you even when you drive me nuts.” He stepped away from the car and Rolf came to take his place.

  “Your visit was a lovely surprise.” Rolf bent and kissed Finn’s cheek, his fingers running in a gentle caress over her short red hair. “Drive safely, let us know when you reach home.”

  The two men watched her drive away, both hoping that they had done the right thing for her. All they could do now was stand back and wait to see what she would do with this new beginning. They had done all they could do. The rest was up to her.

  Chapter 14

  Finn let herself into the house in Rathmines. No one rushed out to meet the returning traveller. There was someone in the kitchen, she thought with a sigh. She’d talk to them after her shower.

  Finn ached in places she hadn’t even been aware of before. It was a long drive from Rosslare to Dublin. She had planned to stop in Bray – it was on the way after all – but she’d changed her mind – she needed home.

  She carried her overnight bag upstairs. She could unpack the car tomorrow. A knock on the bedroom door surprised her.

  Finn’s mouth dropped open at the sight that greeted her when she opened the door. Patrick Brennan stood, smiling charmingly and carrying a tea tray. This must be an alternate universe she’d wandered into. He’d never prepared a tray in his life, much less delivered one.

  Finn saw Oisín’s fine hand in this little gesture. It amused her that at least one of the men in her life knew her so well. She opened the door wider and gestured to Patrick to enter. He put the tray he carried on top of her dressing table.

  “How are you, dear?” Patrick poured the tea. “Did you have a good trip?”

  He was using his radio voice on her, Finn noticed. It had been a long time since Patrick had tried to charm her with his trust-me-I’m-y
our-friend voice.

  “I’m fine, thank you. The tea is a lovely gesture.” Oh God, were they reduced to this?

  “Damn it, Nuala, how long is this ridiculous state of affairs going to continue?” Patrick shoved his hands through his expertly cut hair. “I have missed you.” He started to touch her but the blazing fury directed at him stopped him in his tracks. She’d never looked at him like that before.

  “Get out, Patrick.” Finn had been curious about the position he would take. “As for this situation as you call it – it’s permanent.” She practically pushed him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  She pulled the door open again when someone knocked. If this was Patrick again she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

  “Good to have you home, Mum.” Oisín hugged his mother close. “You know why I’ve been sent in?”

  “I imagine your mission, should you decide to accept it,” Finn smiled at her son, watching the grin form first in his eyes as she quoted from one of his favourite spy movies, “is to talk sense into the nutty old dear that is your mother.”

  “Sit down and drink your tea.”

  Oisín sat on the unmade bed while Finn sat at the dressing-table chair. They had seen her return on the kitchen monitor. It had hurt his heart that she had not called out to tell them she was home. Instead she had almost crept up here like a stranger in her own home. His father was almost foaming at the mouth over this situation. He’d been ranting and raving about his problems constantly. It hadn’t stopped him chasing skirts though.

  “What are your plans, have you any idea?” He watched his mother close her eyes in bliss at her first sip of tea. He listened, trying not to let his jaw drop to the floor as she spoke of her plans. This was going to cause ructions when he passed on the information. “You really think you can turn yourself into some kind of super building contractor?” Oisín held up his hands when he saw the hurt in his mother’s eyes. “I’m not saying you can’t, Mother. I’m just trying to understand.”