How to Fall in Love

by Cecelia Ahern

  I shook my head.

  ‘I went online and found out how to do it. I used my razor, but it was too difficult. It took me too long to break the skin. And it hurt. Nothing was happening to me, even though it was bleeding. I was lying there on the bed, waiting to die, but nothing happened. It just hurt. I had to go back online and see what I’d done wrong. Eventually I went downstairs to Mum to show her because I was scared.’ She kept crying. ‘Mum was screaming at me: What did you do? What did you do? And I swear I wanted to go upstairs and do it again so I could die and not have to see the way she looked at me. I felt like a freak. Dad won’t stop asking me why. I’ve never seen him so angry. It’s like he wants to kill me.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to kill you, Caroline. He’s shocked and scared and all he wants to do is to protect you. Your parents want to make things better. They want to understand so that they can help.’

  ‘They’ll kill me.’ She started sobbing again. ‘Is that how you felt? Did you hate your mum?’

  ‘No,’ I said soothingly, tears coming to my eyes at the hazy memories of Dad coming home from the hospital, a fake jolly look in his eye as if they’d been on holiday, and Mum lying out on a deck chair in the back garden, fully clothed in the pouring rain because she wanted to ‘feel something’. Even when she was in the room with me it felt like she wasn’t there at all. I loved her, all I wanted was to sit with her, be with her. I would hold her hand and wonder if she even noticed I was there. ‘I never hated her, not for one minute.’ I left a silence. ‘Why was it so unbearable for you? What happened?’

  ‘I can’t tell them. Anyway, they’ll find out soon enough. I’m surprised they don’t know already. Every day I’d come home from school and I’d be waiting for them to realise. I was terrified. At school everyone knows, everyone’s looking at me, laughing at me, saying stuff to me. Even my own friends. I had no one – no one who would help me, no one who’d talk to me. Not even Aisling …’ she trailed off, confusion and betrayal all over her face.

  ‘Aisling’s your friend?’

  ‘Was. She was my best friend. Since we were five. She wouldn’t even look at me. For a whole month. First it was everyone else and she was still my friend, but then it got worse: they started leaving things in my locker, gross things, they kept saying stuff on Facebook, spreading lies. Then they started dragging Aisling too, saying stuff about her too. She blamed me for what was happening and then she stopped being my friend. I mean, how could she?’

  ‘Something happened that everyone found out about?’ I guessed.

  She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

  ‘Online?’

  She nodded again. Then she was surprised. ‘Do you know?’

  ‘No. You’re not the first person it’s happened to, Caroline. Were you … in a compromised position?’

  ‘He told me it would just be for us,’ she said, her face crimson. ‘And I believed him. And then a friend of mine texted me and said it was up on Facebook, and then everyone started ringing me. Some were laughing about it, some were really angry, calling me a whore and all sorts – people I thought were my friends. I went online to see it and I swear I was sick. I don’t even want to see me doing that, never mind strangers. It was meant to be for a laugh, for us. I didn’t think he would show anyone. I thought maybe a friend had taken his phone and done it, or it had been hacked, but …’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t even look at me. Then one day I got hold of him, told him how I felt about it, how I couldn’t go on any more, and he just looked at me and laughed. He laughed. He couldn’t understand why I was so upset. He said I should be happy. That loads of celebs have become famous because of it and now they’re millionaires. I mean, we live in fucking Crumlin! How famous are we going to become? Where’s our millions after that?’ She started crying again.

  ‘Were you and him having sex, Caroline?’

  She was mortified by the question and it took her a while to tell me: she’d been giving him a blow-job, while they were at a house party one night, and they’d both had too much to drink. It was his idea to film it. He’d already started filming her before she had a chance to object, and when she saw the camera was on her she didn’t want to stop, she didn’t want to look like a ‘wuss’.

  ‘When did this happen?’ I asked, anger rising in me. If I felt like this, I could imagine Detective Maguire’s reaction. He’d make life hell for the boy with the camera phone, but after what he’d done that boy should consider himself lucky if Maguire at least let him live. I didn’t envy Caroline, being a teenager nowadays; the landscape of issues such as trust and intimacy and sex had completely changed since I was her age, leaving boys and girls navigating a minefield.

  ‘About two months ago, but he put the video up three weeks ago. I tried to ignore it. I tried to keep going to school, keep my head down, ignore them all, but I’m still getting text messages from people. Look.’ She handed me her phone and I scrolled through the texts from her so-called friends, most of them so abhorrently evil I could barely believe what I was reading.

  I understood why Caroline had felt she had nowhere to turn. Her friends had turned their backs on her; the guy she fancied had laughed at her, made a mockery of her; she was being taunted daily in the small world that was social networking – a world no one could escape, where lies flourished like bacteria before anyone had the chance to prove them wrong. And the poor girl was too embarrassed and too afraid to turn to her parents, afraid they’d ‘kill’ her. So she decided to do it to herself instead, end the embarrassment, the pain, the loneliness. A permanent solution to a temporary problem. This pain would not last for ever; she would bear the scars of the experience and she would remember it for the rest of her life, no doubt it would influence every decision she made from this moment on. But where pain was, healing could come; where loneliness was, new relationships could be formed; where rejection was, new love could be found. It was a moment. And moments changed. She would have to live through the moment to get to the next.

  ‘Will you tell them?’ she asked, her voice tiny, her body skinny and childish in the bed. ‘Please?’

  We parted ways, Caroline promising to keep in touch with me or with the numbers in the pamphlets the hospital had already given her if she ever needed somebody to talk to. I made my way out to the corridor where Judy was sitting semi-comatose on a plastic chair and where Detective Maguire was pacing like a caged animal.

  ‘Tell us,’ he barked as soon as I neared him.

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘I’m not going to tell you anything until you make a promise.’

  He looked as if he was going to bite my head off.

  ‘You will have to hold your temper. Caroline is so scared of your reaction – right now she’s feeling isolated and fearful of being rejected by you. You want to help her, suspend your judgement and give her the support she needs from you.’

  ‘Aidan,’ Judy put her hand on his arm. ‘Listen to her.’

  ‘She already knows she’s made a mistake; do not lecture her. Do not make her feel foolish. Not now, not while she’s so vulnerable.’

  Judy nodded her head emphatically, looking from me to her husband as if willing the understanding into him.

  ‘She needs your unconditional love and support. She needs you to tell her you are not angry. You are not ashamed. You are not disgusted. You love her. You are there for her.’

  He mumbled something that sounded like a threat.

  ‘I’m serious, Aidan. You’re not dealing with one of your criminals now. Caroline is your daughter. It’s time you cut the intimidation, leave out the interrogation and the downright bull-headedness and listen to what she has to say.’

  And then I told them what she had told me.

  He listened this time. Judy’s fingers turned white as she squeezed his arm while I spoke. She dug her nails into him when it seemed like he was going to bolt – either to his daughter’s side or to find the boy who did this
to her – but he stayed and I stayed with him till the red rage that I saw in his eyes left and was replaced by fatherly concern and a heart filled with love. Then I watched as he walked away from me, hand in hand with Judy, the two of them propping each other up as they approached their daughter.

  Exhausted, I left the hospital to go home and prepare for Adam’s birthday party. Despite his claim that he was in a good place now, Adam had barely begun on the road to healing himself. I was hoping Maria would show up and love him. If she didn’t, I was afraid I could lose the man I loved for ever.

  26

  How to Find the Positive in a Catch-22

  When I arrived at City Hall, late, Adam was standing at the main entrance greeting his guests. He was dazzling in his tuxedo and he took my breath away when I stepped out of the taxi. It was only when the taxi driver shouted at me to close the door because I was letting all the heat out that I realised I had frozen in place, transfixed by the sight.

  Unlike my sisters, who had already arrived and had splashed out on new gowns for the black-tie event, I had gone against the grain of my multi-coloured wardrobe and settled for a gown that fitted my mood: my trusty full-length black dress, with a high neckline but a split up the thigh and backless. The split had raised somewhat as I’d climbed out of the taxi and now it ripped higher. As I tried to cover the bare thigh on display, I realised that Adam was no longer greeting guests but had turned to watch my less than graceful and entirely revealing entrance. I pulled my second leg out of the car, adjusted my faux-fur wrap and ascended the stairs, Adam’s eyes on me the entire way. I felt every bit as naked and exposed as I had been on the ladder in my dream, even though I was wearing knickers this time. It was all I could do to mask my humiliation and heartbreak, let alone look him in the eye. So I didn’t.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured.

  He didn’t do awkward very well. He was calm, solid, watchful, in control. This was the Adam of the past few days, the one I wasn’t used to dealing with.

  ‘Uh, thanks. I didn’t have much time to get ready,’ I said. ‘Barry called around this morning, and someone else needed some help, and I don’t know if you heard but Simon Conway, the guy who … you know, well, he passed away last night. That’s where I was this morning when I left the room, so it’s been one of those days.’ Still feeling sorry for myself, my eyes filled and I looked away.

  ‘Hold on, what?’ he asked, concerned.

  ‘Which part do you want me to repeat?’

  ‘Simon died this morning?’ His face immediately seemed to pale. ‘That’s why you left?’

  I nodded. ‘Well, I left because I remembered something that I had to tell him. But then I got there and he went into cardiac arrest.’ I shuddered. It hadn’t been a good day, it had begun with death, and I hoped it wouldn’t end that way.

  Adam seemed shaken by that news, relating to Simon and his woes far more than I would have expected.

  ‘So is she here?’

  He took a moment to register the subject change, my body language change, then dealt with it well, the way he could tell I wanted him to.

  ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, surprised. ‘I thought she’d be here at seven.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said, looking at the door again, anxiously.

  It was eight p.m.

  I had an intense feeling of relief, quickly followed by one of dread as my catch-22 situation once again kicked in. If it didn’t work out with Maria then it wouldn’t be my arms Adam fell into, it would most likely be the nearest bridge or the tallest building. I needed Maria to come and tell him she loved him or I wouldn’t even be able to love him from afar. Suddenly, pining for him and not having him was vital, it was a treat, it was a bonus. It was the perspective I needed.

  ‘Listen, Adam,’ I pulled myself together and looked him in the eye, ‘if she doesn’t come tonight I need you to think of the crisis plan. I know we had a deal, but I want you to know I don’t approve of it. I don’t want you to …’ I swallowed, ‘kill yourself. Think of all the things that we discussed. Remember the plan? You survived these past two weeks, didn’t you? Use the tools I gave you. If for whatever reason anything goes wrong tonight – not that it will,’ I said hurriedly, ‘but if it does, remember what I taught you.’

  ‘Happy birthday!’ I heard a female voice behind me. Right when I should have felt jubilant, that defeated feeling came over me again.

  Adam’s eyes were still on me.

  Maria joined us. ‘Sorry, am I disturbing you?’

  ‘No,’ I said, blinking away my tears. ‘I’m so glad you came,’ I added, my words a whisper. ‘He’s all yours.’

  ‘Is everything sorted?’ Dad asked as I joined them.

  All I could manage was a nod; I couldn’t trust myself to speak as my eyes filled up with tears.

  ‘Ooh, I knew it,’ Brenda said sympathetically, wrapping her arms around me. ‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you? Here,’ she grabbed a champagne flute from a passing tray. ‘Get drunk, it will numb the pain.’

  I sipped the bubbles, wishing that were true.

  ‘While we’re on the subject of heartbreak,’ Adrienne said, ‘Graham and I broke up.’

  She didn’t quite get the same reaction from the family as I had.

  ‘He didn’t get the cakes made of cheese,’ Dad said, disappointed. ‘Why didn’t he get the cakes made of cheese?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘But they’re so clever,’ he continued, confused.

  ‘Not that anyone seems to care, there was something not quite right between us,’ Adrienne added huffily.

  ‘A penis, perhaps,’ Dad said, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

  ‘Ah there she is, my baby girl!’ He winked at me. ‘Tell me, where is this dastardly girlfriend of his that you worked so hard to get him back together with, so I can throw angry father stares in her direction.’

  ‘Oh don’t, Dad,’ I sighed. ‘They’re perfect for each other, they’re meant to be. I mean, the man was about to throw himself off a bridge if he couldn’t get her back. How romantic is that?’

  ‘Not romantic at all,’ Adrienne said, still unhappy that her announcement had been overlooked.

  ‘Saving him from jumping off a bridge is far more romantic,’ Brenda said.

  ‘You’re lucky you saved him,’ Dad said, then they all went quiet.

  It had been almost thirty years since our mother had taken her life, since Dad had walked in to find her on the floor of their bathroom with the empty pill bottle beside her body. He had confessed to us that he hadn’t tried to save her, a revelation we had been in various degrees of understanding about. Brenda understood, Adrienne saw his point of view but wished that he had called the ambulance services sooner, and I hadn’t spoken to him for months. I had been nineteen and at college when he told me. Thinking I could save everyone or at least wanted to attempt to save everyone, I told him I would never forgive him. It had been hard on Dad at the time, because he had saved his wife six times already. He had given her CPR twice, pulled her out of a bath, done God knows what else, rushed her to hospital so many times he just didn’t have it in him to keep trying, to persuade her to stay.

  ‘You know what, Dad,’ I said suddenly. ‘I think you did save her. She didn’t want to be here.’

  He was so moved by that he had to look away to compose himself.

  ‘There she is,’ I said, watching Maria enter the room ahead of Adam.

  ‘Ooh, I won’t know whether to shake his hand or lick his face,’ Brenda said.

  ‘Please shake his hand,’ I said.

  ‘Is that her? With the red lips?’ Adrienne asked.

  ‘You want to lick her face, don’t you?’ Dad said to her.

  Adrienne giggled.

  I sighed. ‘I knew it. I told you she was beautiful.’

  ‘In a Morticia Addams kind of way,’ said Brenda.

  Adam and Maria made their way into the room, Maria greeting people warmly, obviously f
amiliar with most of the guests from her time with Adam. I downed my champagne and plucked the flute from Brenda’s hands.

  ‘Hey!’ she protested, then gave up.

  Then there was a tapping of a glass and everyone looked to a man on stage who was trying to hush the crowd.

  He thanked a few illustrious guests for being there – the Minister for Trade, not the Taoiseach as Dad had been hoping for – and each time he named someone of importance Dad made an impressed face. He talked about the sad passing of Mr Richard Basil, who would be greatly missed – clearly he hadn’t known him very well – and then announced Adam as the new CEO of Basil Confectionery. There was a great cheer from the crowd and Adam moved towards the stage.

  He climbed the steps and took his place, looking like a movie star.

  ‘A friend of mine helped me word this speech tonight,’ he said, looking out to the crowd. Maria smiled at him proudly from the wings and my throat tightened. ‘I’m not the best at talking about how I’m feeling. Nights like this aren’t always the easiest as it’s overwhelming, but I’m feeling … honoured that you’ve all come here today. I’ve heard talk that it’s a new beginning for Basil, but I’m hoping it’s more of a continuation of its success, perhaps the beginning of new growth for the company. I’m feeling … uplifted and sustained by so many kind words so many people have had to say about my father, though it is clear, despite your good intentions, that you are all liars.’

  That got a laugh from the crowd.

  ‘My father was a lot of things, but mostly he was good at his job.’

  Some nodding of heads. I spotted Arthur May, the solicitor, among the crowd.

  ‘He put his heart and soul into the business. In fact I think he poured so much into the business that he had very little left for the rest of us.’

  They laughed again.

  ‘I’m feeling … proud that he has named me as his successor, that he felt me able for this role. I know that myself and the board and the wonderful Mary Keegan, our new MD, are united in our goals for the company. I’m feeling … ready. My experience may be short and my task unfamiliar, but I have in my father and grandfather an example that I can follow with certainty and with confidence as I take on the traditions of Basil while at the same time looking to the future. And finally, I owe a great thank you to those who planned this evening and those it took to get me here.’ His eyes rested on me. There was a considerable silence. He cleared his throat. ‘Thank you from a full heart.’