Friends Like Us

by Siân O'Gorman

  ‘I didn’t know what to say. I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be true.’

  ‘Did you think about it?’

  ‘Every day. Every day. It would hit me the moment I opened my eyes in the morning and I would close them at night thinking about her.’

  ‘And me? Did you ever think of me?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘Could have fooled me.’

  ‘I wish it was different. I wish I had been different for you. You deserved that. A mother who wasn’t broken and battered and weak like me, someone else. Anyone else.’

  ‘You are my mother. You’re all I had, have.’ Melissa began to cry again. ‘You’re it, for me. I don’t get to choose.’ She felt a pair of small, cool hands take hers.

  ‘I’m sorry, Melissa, I’m sorry.’

  They sat there for a moment holding hands – which didn’t feel quite as awkward as Melissa might have predicted – until eventually they pulled away.

  ‘You’re all I have, Mam.’

  ‘And you are my Melissa, who deserves so much more than she was given.’

  ‘Your Melissa?’ My Melissa. The phrase, so simple so loving, but never said before.

  ‘Yes, my Melissa. This wonderful girl, this strong, wonderful girl.’

  ‘You, Melissa, helped me survive. If it wasn’t for you, I would not be here.’

  This was more than Melissa had ever heard from her mother. The closest to I Love You they had ever come. The intensity was too much for both of them.

  ‘Fucking hell. Jesus. What a pair we are. No wonder dad is hiding.’ She and her mother exchanged a small smile. ‘By the way, how much does he know?’

  ‘He knew back then. I told him before we got married.’

  ‘Right. God. So everyone but me knew everything.’

  ‘No, he didn’t know… everything. Not about me. I don’t think I knew it then either.’

  ‘What?’ Melissa was confused.

  ‘I told him about the baby. He didn’t mind about the baby. About Tara Rose. But he didn’t know about me. What I was. Who I was.’

  ‘What do you mean? The fact that you’re…’

  ‘A drinker.’

  Melissa was silenced for a moment. Her mother had never mentioned it before. ‘Mam, can I ask? When did you start drinking?’

  Immediately Mary looked down, and began twisting her wedding ring around her finger, her eyes not able to meet Melissa’s. Eventually she spoke: ‘The night the baby was gone. I was in shock and I was given a drink of brandy. Sister Bernadine it was, who came and found me. In the scullery, crying my heart out, screaming, and she gave me a drink of this. I remember it going down, this warmth, this numbing feeling. I felt better. I felt I could cope. I remember thinking, why haven’t I done this before?’

  ‘Right.’ Melissa stood up. ‘I think we need another cup of tea, don’t you?’

  ‘I’m going to stop, you know. I’m going to stop drinking.’

  ‘Good for you, Mam. Good for you.’

  And at that moment, Melissa didn’t care why her mother decided to get help but she was just glad that her mam had finally taken it on herself to try and beat this and maybe one good thing may come out of all of this.

  ‘Dad?’ she called. He shuffled in.

  ‘Yes, Melissa, love?’ He was worried about her, she could tell.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she said. ‘Would you like a hug?’

  And she went over and hugged him because Mary wasn’t huggable in any way and Melissa needed one.

  ‘You’re our star,’ he father, whispered in her ear. ‘Our little star.’

  She pulled away and saw tears in his eyes.

  ‘Our shining star,’ he said again.

  ‘Thanks Dad,’ she said. ‘I’m going to put the kettle on and we are all going to have a cup of tea. Right Mam?’

  ‘Yes, Melissa,’ said Mary, who had found a packet of tissues in the drawer and was wiping her eyes. ‘A nice cup of tea.’

  Bloody hell. Life was one continuous drama. It just didn’t stop, thought Melissa. What’s next? Pestilence, plague?

  ‘Penguin?’ said her father, who had been rummaging around in the cupboard.

  28

  Steph

  As she turned the key in her parents’ door, Steph could hear barking. Nuala and Joe were in the kitchen. With a Jack Russell.

  ‘Who’s this?’ Steph reached down and stroked the little dog. He was slightly whiskery around the jaw, his brown eyes looking up at her.

  ‘Dingle. Meet your new brother,’ said Nuala, as Steph rolled her eyes like a teenager. ‘He’s the latest member of the Sheridan clan. We found him at the shelter. We couldn’t leave him there, could we, Joe? He’s an orphan.’

  ‘An orphan?’ said Steph.

  ‘No parents. Does he, Joe?’

  Joe shook his head. ‘So we,’ he said, ‘are his new mam and dad.’

  ‘Should I feel put out?’ asked Steph, picking him up and letting him lick her face. ‘Although he’s a lot friendlier and nicer than I am.’

  ‘You may not be a licker and a wagger but you have your own considerable charms, Stephanie.’ And then Nuala lowered her voice. ‘You’re still our favourite child,’ she said, covering Dingle’s ears.

  ‘I’ve always wanted a brother, anyway,’ laughed Steph. ‘I’m no longer an only child. At last you got round to it. But I thought you said no more dogs… what happened?’

  ‘Ah… we talked about it and it was hard after John-Paul passed away. But we thought it would be good for us – get us out of the house. And who could resist this little fella?’

  Steph looked down at Dingle, wagging his stubby tail. His eyes were those of someone who had escaped a terrible fate, and he was now in a place of greater safety.

  ‘We’ve just been on a walk, exercising our new son,’ said Joe. Nuala laughed and went over to put the kettle on.

  ‘Now, what we all need is some tea,’ said Nuala. ‘And some more of those cherry bakewells. From Marks and Spencer they are. You’d know it, too. Dingle loves them.’

  Steph kneeled down and stroked Dingle. He looked up at her and licked her face. She thought she might cry into the little dog’s fur. Not a good start to a brand-new sibling relationship.

  After pouring her heart out to Melissa and Eilis, Steph felt better. Still emotionally battered and bruised but a tiny bit soothed, nonetheless. But talking about Rick and telling them the truth of her marriage had made it all more real, and therefore finding a solution was even more pressing. Especially as she had to protect Rachel who hadn’t been as immune to their problems she had hoped.

  ‘And how’s our lovely Rachel?’ said Nuala, as though reading her thoughts.

  ‘Grand, so.’ Oh God, poor Rachel. No wonder she was so angry. She had every right to feel utter disdain for me, thought Steph.

  But as Nuala poured out the tea, Steph noticed her hand was shaking. Joe noticed too and, without saying a word, took the tea pot from her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ said Steph.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong, why’d you ask?’ said Nuala, glancing at Joe.

  Now, her dad’s hand wobbled and he began pouring tea onto the tray and the tea pot lid rattled.

  ‘Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Tell me.’ Steph looked at her mother. ‘Mam?’

  ‘Well,’ said Nuala, looking at Joe, who put down the pot and covered her hand with his. They looked at each other. Dingle was on his own cushion on the seat next to her. ‘Jesus! Mam. Dad. Tell me?’

  ‘We do have some news. But we’ve decided it’s absolutely nothing to worry about. Nothing to be upset about because I have a slight health issue, but,’ she smiled a slightly false smile, ‘everything is fine – or rather everything is going to be completely and utterly fine.’ She spoke in a rush. ‘That’s what we think, isn’t it Joe?’

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘Well…’ he began. His face was white.

  Nuala turned to Steph. ‘I’ll say it. Well,’ she smiled, ‘I�
��ve had some tests.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve had a bit of pain, discomfort, really. For some time. Since last year. That’s why I’ve discovered tracksuit bottoms. Nice and comfortable.’

  ‘Last year!’ said Steph.

  Nuala continued, ‘Nothing to worry about, I thought. So I didn’t. But then Joe here – always worrying about me – insisted I go to see Dr Finucane. And he was marvellous. Sent me into Vincent’s straight away.’

  ‘Vincent’s hospital?’ Steph was appalled. She had never known before what it was like for blood to run cold. It was like the cold tap was turned on and her whole body was suddenly chilled.

  ‘Oh, it’s lovely now. They’ve got a brand new entrance area. All very nice. Like being in America, or some place. And a shop that sells pens and things.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Steph was feeling panicky and irritated. ‘But what is it?’

  ‘It’s… cancer. But noth…’

  ‘Cancer! Jesus Christ! Mam!’ She had noticed Nuala was tired but isn’t everyone? It was horrible seeing Joe and Nuala getting older but she never thought they would get ill. They had been so healthy, so fit, never drank or smoked. Losing them was years away, she had never even countenanced that it might be sooner than she thought. Losing her mother? It was unthinkable.

  ‘But I’m under a Mr Sidney Rose – isn’t that a wonderful name? Sidney Rose. “Mrs Sheridan,” he said, “I can’t promise anything, but I am going to do my very best.” And you can tell he will. Lovely hands he has. Hasn’t he, Joe?’

  Steph started to cry. ‘What sort of cancer?’ Maybe it was the kind that was curable, the easy kind. Was there such a thing?

  ‘Cervical.’ Nuala was smiling at her, desperately trying to show her that this was going to be okay. ‘I’m getting the best treatment and Mr Rose says they have caught it early.’ She got up and put her arms around Steph and tried to soothe her. ‘We’ll come through this, you’ll see.’ Steph realised that she should be the one comforting Nuala. ‘Yes, yes,’ she said, ‘we will. You will,’ she sobbed, trying to stop.

  And then Nuala began to cry too and the two women cried in each other’s arms. ‘I am so sorry, loveen, I’m so sorry. It’ll be fine, it will. It’ll be fine. We’ll get through this.’

  They pulled apart and Steph looked over at Joe, who had tears falling down his face. She took her father’s hand and squeezed it. Nuala smoothed back Steph’s hair and wiped away her tears with her thumb.

  She spoke softly. ‘Come on, come now. It’s just chemotherapy.’

  ‘Just chemotherapy?’ Steph found her voice. How to deal with this? Be brave? Presume the best? Battle, fight? Wield swords and syringes? Believe in the power of doctors and nurses and modern healthcare? ‘Oh Mam!’ She felt as though she was a child again and desperately looking to her mother for reassurance.

  ‘Now, don’t you be worrying about me, loveen.’ Nuala held Steph’s hand, their fingers curling around each other’s, like they used to when Steph was tiny. ‘Mr Rose, we don’t call him Sidney, Mr Rose is the best in the business,’ isn’t he Joe?’

  They looked up at Joe who was leaning against the kitchen table. The colour had drained out of his face. Poor dad, thought Steph. Poor mam and poor dad.

  ‘Well, that’s what another one of his patients told me. Margaret she is and she’s some months into her treatment. We’ve met twice now in his waiting room. Lovely woman. From West Cork. Ballydehob. Been in Dublin for years.’

  ‘But cervical cancer. It’s not… you don’t… you can’t…’ Steph was lost for words.

  ‘Let’s just see shall we? We have to be positive.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, trying to be calm. ‘We have to just get on with this. This time next year, we will laugh about it. Won’t we, Dad?’

  Joe tried to arrange his face into something normal but terror was all he could show.

  ‘Anyway, I feel like I’m in some sort of club, don’t I Joe? You know, after Mary got it and then Nancy, and it was awful but they all got through it – and their hair grew back and everything.’

  ‘This is a club you don’t want to join, Mum.’

  ‘I’m in it now, though, and we’ll make the best of it.’

  29

  Eilis

  Eilis looked at the clock. It was nearly time for the gardening club… Didn’t Charlie say they had them every Saturday at five? It was quarter-to already.

  Rob had left earlier, telling her he was going out with his friends, and this was after she had bought some food for them to share. It was only salmon and potatoes but she thought they could eat it in front of the television and have a night in. Together.

  Right, she thought, if you not going to try, then I’m not either. There comes a time in life when going to a gardening club is the craziest thing you can do. And, she thought, not without regret, I have reached that time. Bring it on.

  Her heart started thudding in her chest, as desire, adrenaline and excitement kicked in, it was beating so loudly she thought it might be audible without a stethoscope. She applied lipstick and pulled on her tightest jeans. I am officially mad, she thought, looking in the mirror. I can’t help myself. She wiped the lipstick off and felt a little better, a little more like herself, although a supercharged version.

  She drove to Sandycove like a woman possessed. This is wrong she thought, she should go home. Yes, that’s exactly what she should do. She should concentrate on getting her relationship back on track with Rob. Maybe they could go and see someone, therapy of some sort.

  However, despite what her mind was saying, her body had other plans for her. It seemed determined to lust after a man who wore checked shirts, whose hair was unfamiliar with grooming products and had proper man-hands (big strong things, ideal for tugging roots out of the ground and who knew what else). And was able to separate his gerbera from his geraniums. It was surprisingly and refreshingly attractive.

  I am succumbing to madness, she thought, as she parked close to the shop. Was it too late to go home and wait for Rob and never complain about the kettle again and try harder? That was it, she just had to try harder and then things would be better, they would slot into place. But she didn’t turn around. Madness, it would appear, had never felt so good.

  At O’Malley’s Garden, about twenty people had gathered in the shop, sitting on garden chairs and benches that had been pushed together. Some had notebooks, others had plants in their hands, diseased specimens from their own gardens, cuttings to give others. It was like a secret world, a conference, where the like-minded met behind closed doors. Eilis felt like she belonged. There wasn’t that air of mania that surrounded the rest of her life. She wanted to be part of this crew.

  She looked around for Charlie, but she couldn’t see him. He’d said that Kate did the talks so there was no certainly that he would be here so her turning up on the off chance of seeing him just proved what a fool she was. Had she chosen to come the one night he wasn’t here? She saw his sister at the front of the shop chatting to some people and then she moved to the front of the seats and cleared her throat. Eilis sat down towards the back, now suddenly feeling stupid. What was she thinking, coming here? If Rob could see her now, joining retirees in gardening club, he would have a field day. He wasn’t a fan of getting his hands dirty, anyway. He may have grown up on a farm but he had left that behind long ago.

  Kate had moved to the table in front of the chairs and was tapping a trowel against a bucket for silence. ‘Thanks for coming to the Gardening Club, everyone,’ she said. ‘The meetings are going really well. We are becoming quite a community now. We have our own Facebook page… which I know most of you are on. And our stall in the market on Sundays will be starting this week, so please come down… And we have our field trip to Mount Usher Gardens coming up… so anyone else interested, see me... but before we begin, let’s have some refreshments… now, where’s that brother of mine?’

  And there he was. Charlie. He had a tray of glasses, a plate with biscuits on
it, and a bottle of something. Just seeing him made her feel that she had made exactly the right decision coming along.

  ‘Just before we get started,’ he said, smiling at everyone. ‘My own elderflower cordial. I just want everyone to try it and see what they think.’

  And then Charlie spotted Eilis and stopped for a moment, his whole face lit up. ‘And we have a new member, it seems,’ he said. ‘Eilis is joining us tonight and hopefully for longer.’ He looked at her again, a smile playing broadly on his face, but his eyes had that intensity of connection and she felt it spread throughout her body, from heart, to brain, to the tips of her fingers. He didn’t break eye-contact. ‘She’s a very good gardener and an excellent doctor,’ he said, looking right at her. He was smiling but there was an intensity about him that made her feel simultaneously embarrassed and thrilled to her very core.

  Twenty grey-haired heads peered around at her, all smiling. There were a few ‘you’re very welcomes’ and a couple of ‘good to meet yous’.

  Charlie smiled at her and then began passing out the glasses.

  ‘And he makes his own Elderflower cordial as well!’ said an older woman in a loud voice. ‘Could he be any more perfect?’

  Everyone in the room laughed.

  ‘Thank you Rosemary,’ he said. ‘But taste it first. It might not be any good.’

  ‘I’m sure it will,’ said another woman. ‘I tasted your sloe gin at the last class and it was delicious.’

  ‘Thanks Pauline,’ he said. ‘I’ll have more of that soon. I’m also trying strawberry champagne this year. We’ll have a taste of that in a few weeks.’

  ‘Champagne!’ said Pauline. ‘I haven’t had it since my wedding. 1971 it was.’

  ‘I’ve got a damson tree, Charlie,’ said Rosemary. ‘I’ll pick you some for damson gin.’

  Charlie, noticed Eilis, seemed to have quite the following. She watched the clamouring for Charlie and his tray and suddenly her excitement leaked away. She felt like a waif he had picked up. He was nice to everyone, she wasn’t special like she had dared to hope. She must have imagined everything. She felt like a balloon from a party a week ago. I’m just a sad, sex-starved woman in need of a little male attention. Only I believed that he might like me too. How stupid I am, she thought. He just thinks of me as another member of his coterie. She stood up, ready to sneak out.