“Holly, that’s enough!” Willie looked confused, but as always, he was ready to defend Susie.
But he wasn’t going to stop me.
“And you love having me back here because you want me to feel like I’ve failed. Like I’ve never escaped from Blackbeg, just like you didn’t. All that talk about studying and making a better life for myself and getting out of this place . . . But when it came down to it, when I had my chance to get out of here and truly be happy, you didn’t think I was good enough for it because of the Blackbeg in me—”
“Holly!” Willie stood up and crossed the room to me. “I will not have you speak to your mother like that!”
Susie smiled triumphantly. “You can go up to your room now, Holly.” She lit another cigarette and picked up the remote.
You just didn’t argue with, yell at or throw dirty accusations at a very sick person. I’d just done all three in a few minutes.
I left the room, wondering how long it would be before I’d break another unwritten commandment about how you were supposed to deal with a sick mother. And how much longer I could stick this situation.
Chapter 56
Terry had come round to help with the party preparations. Of course he had.
“I’ll set up the kitchen, you two do the living room,” I said immediately when he walked in. “The decorations are in a bag somewhere.”
“Okay. I’m sure I’ll find them.”
“Yes. You mightn’t even need a private investigator for that particular job.”
I closed the kitchen and dining room doors to block out the horrible sound of his voice as much as possible. I worked like a maniac, cleaning and scrubbing and sorting out the food and drinks, all the while barely noticing what I was doing. Terry’s insidious presence was wearing me down more and more every minute.
I poured a shot of Captain Morgan and tipped my head back to receive it. It burned my throat spectacularly and gave me something to focus on for a few glorious seconds. Then I heard Susie speak in her special voice that was reserved for Terry only and Terry mumbling something in response. He, in turn, had his soothing voice on, I realised, the one he used when he was trying to be the big man who could save any situation. I found myself moving towards the sitting room without any idea of what I’d do or say when I got there.
Susie didn’t even look up when I walked in. Her head was buried in a photo album. One I recognised only too well.
“He should be here,” she said to Terry.
I wasn’t sure if she’d even seen me or was deliberately blanking me out.
“Outliving your child . . . it’s not natural,” she continued.
She ran her fingers reverentially over Ricky’s album before passing it on to Terry. He took it carefully, but not before glancing up at me.
I could clearly see each and every picture from where I was standing. I didn’t need to – I knew every detail of each one – but I looked anyway. I couldn’t not. The black-and-white baby pictures came first. Then the colour toddler pictures, some on his own but mostly with his baby brother. I arrived on the scene on page four. The rest of the pictures charted Ricky’s gap-toothed phase, his journey to adolescence, his awkward and geeky hairstyles. He grew ganglier on every page, and although he looked young and innocent, the man he was on the cusp of becoming was emerging.
And then, a third of the way through the album, the photos stopped. All those pages left unfilled. They got me every single time.
I snatched the book out of Terry’s hands and held it to my chest.
“Holly! What are you doing? Terry was—”
“Terry was just leaving.” I stared at him over the top of the photo album. “He needs to go to the supermarket to get . . . brown sauce. You know Cliff takes brown sauce with everything, Susie, but we seem to be out of it.”
Terry stood up. I could see Susie waving her hand in a downwards fashion out of the corner of my eye.
“Terry’s going nowhere! Sit down, Terry.”
I didn’t take my eyes off Terry as I spoke.
“If you want to move out to the kitchen, Susie, I’ll put the decorations up in here. The brown sauce, Terry, whenever you’re ready. I’m sure you’ll do that for my brother, won’t you?”
“Em, yes, of course.”
He brushed off Susie’s objections and scarpered, even going so far as to refute Susie’s claim that I’d been impossibly rude.
I waited for Susie’s attack when he left, but it didn’t come. She just ripped the photo album out of my hands and left the room without even making eye contact with me.
I knew she’d just mentally circled another number on her bingo card. I just hadn’t realised she had a full house now and that things were going to get worse than I could ever have imagined.
“Great party, isn’t it?”
Those were the buzzwords of the night. Nobody knew what else to say. And so far, the party had been absolute pants.
The relief when Hawaii arrived with her two “bull in a china shop” children charging into the house in front of her was palpable. I prayed that Jaguar would instantly break something, just to have something happen. But not his legs, or at least not until the end of the evening, because we needed him in fine health to run from one room to the other, knocking over drinks, bumping into people, and generally giving people something to complain about and tasks to do – broken glass to sweep up, red wine stains to mop from white shirts, all of those jobs that usually drove people insane.
Dad’s brother, Mike, his permanently sour-looking wife, Attracta, and their sons, Charlie and Vince, formed a circle at the back of the kitchen. They seemed to be standing away from the crowd as much as they could get away with without actually forming a splinter group in the garden – but I’d say they were only staying inside because the back door was locked. I’d hidden the key. Splinter groups in a party this size were strictly forbidden. I knew that attending this party was just a duty for Mike and his family, one that they’d regard as hopefully easing the tension somewhat if or when they dutifully had to attend the funeral. He and Willie didn’t not get on as such, but they didn’t have much to talk about, either. There were republicans and democrats out there who had more in common than those two.
Susie wasn’t exactly holding court. She wandered around the room chain-smoking – even though the kids were around – and pulling her too-loose cardigan around herself every now and then, but she didn’t engage with anyone as such. People came up and had the talk with her that they clearly felt was expected of them. Wasn’t it good to get everyone together at this time . . . Wasn’t Susie looking spritely, the subtext of “for someone who’s on their last legs” naturally being omitted . . . Weren’t those spicy meatballs the best you’d ever tasted – Susie could give Ikea a few lessons . . . The relief on their faces when Susie got bored and drifted off to someone else was almost comical.
If there was no known etiquette for what to say to the family of a dead person, there was even less on what to say to the dying. I couldn’t help them out there, so I busied myself with doling up more meatballs and turning the CD player up as high as I could without having the police calling round. They’d be in the area anyway, so the chances were good . . . Although they’d put the headcount up a bit, so it might not be such a bad thing, either.
Thankfully, Sammy had come. I’d had no choice but to tell her about Susie’s condition and she insisted on coming to the party when she heard about it, but she’d brought Damo with her and Susie was none too pleased about it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, either, after how things had gone the last time, but right then wasn’t the time to think about it. I suppose Sammy had insisted on dragging Damo along.
“There’s no place for him here,” Susie had said when they’d arrived. “Shall I tell him or will you?”
“Just let him say hello, Susie.”
She walked away as Sammy and Damo tried to approach her.
“Thanks for coming, guys!” I told them to help themselves
to whatever food and drink they wanted.
Damo instantly said that he was driving and therefore wouldn’t be drinking. He hadn’t told Sammy yet, then.
At the other side of the room, Terry sipped slowly from a bottle of beer and glared at Damo. I ushered Sammy and Damo into the sitting room through the hall when their plates were loaded.
As I came back into the kitchen, Charlie approached me. It looked like he was taking one for the family and was going to be the one to have the obligatory chat with me. I smiled half-heartedly.
I couldn’t think of a thing to say to him after we’d exchanged greetings, so I came out with the only thing I could think of.
“Great party, isn’t it?”
He frowned. “No, Holly, it’s shite. It was a dreadful idea to have it in the first place. What were you guys thinking?”
“Just fulfilling Mum’s dying wish.”
Charlie pursed his lips in a manner that didn’t do him any favours but adequately expressed his disapproval nonetheless.
“God help us all if this is the fulfilment of a dying wish. Your mother looks like she wishes she was anywhere but here. She’s not enjoying it and nobody here is enjoying it, either.”
He was right. It felt like she’d invited everyone here as a punishment, one last kick in the arse before she was . . . on her way.
“Well, this is what she asked for and nobody gave me a rule book on how to deal with all this. If staring death in the face is making you that uncomfortable, Charlie, just go home. You merging into the cobwebs at the back of the room isn’t helping much, anyway.”
His nose twitched. “Holly, it’s not my fault if we’re not close. Your parents never wanted us to come and visit. Can you blame me if I’m not comfortable right now?”
I didn’t blame him, but I couldn’t help but resent how I was the one to have to answer the question. I hadn’t made things the way they were. I stared at the canapés on the table, refusing to meet Charlie’s eye and wondering how I could get away from him without blatantly walking away. There were too few people in this house just to walk off.
When Charlie realised I wasn’t going to add to the conversation, he exhaled loudly.
“God, our family is fucked up.”
“Jaguar!”
At last. The sound of glass breaking resonated through the house.
“I’ve got to go, Charlie.”
I went out to survey the damage and to squeeze as long as I could out of cleaning up the mess.
Susie came up to me as soon as I’d reluctantly put the dustpan away, a few short minutes later. Jaguar was losing his touch and had only broken a small, horrible vase.
“This party is terrible,” she hissed.
Her tone of hiss indicated that this fact was somehow entirely my fault.
I shrugged. “People don’t know what to do with themselves, that’s all. They’re afraid to say anything in case it’s the wrong thing. They aren’t going to get up and dance on tables in case it’s insensitive. It’s unknown territory as parties go.”
“Well, you have to do something. This can’t be people’s last memory of me. ‘She was a lovely person, but she threw shit parties.’ It’s not what I had in mind for my headstone.”
I shrugged again.
“What? Cat got your tongue? Oh, I get it. You’re thinking it’s going to take more than death for people to say I’m a lovely person, aren’t you?”
“No! Jaysus, stop putting words in my mouth!”
The doorbell rang. Cliff’s wife, Jane, announced that she’d answer the door, stealing my chance of escape from my hands.
“That’s lovely. My own daughter shouting at me at my death party. What do you have to do around here to get respect from a thankless child?”
“Ah, here . . .” I turned round and started to walk away, but she grabbed my arm.
“Terry!” She called Terry over.
As soon as he reached us, she walked away. Subtle as a brick.
Terry shrugged. I threw my eyes to heaven and followed Susie to where she’d wandered.
“Susie, a word,” I said as she poured herself a drink. “You have to stop trying to—”
“Reconciliation. There’s a word for you, Holly. What’s going to happen when I’m gone? Are you really planning on living here with Willie? He’s not able for it, you know. The kids are great, but he’s too old to be able to manage this arrangement long-term. You need to sort things out with your husband and move on with your life. This renting a place with the kids lark is not a permanent solution. It’s not fair on them.”
“For the millionth time—”
“No. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, put it behind you and stop being so selfish. You’ve broken up your family and it’s your responsibility to put it back together.”
“Susie—”
“You’re a disgrace, the way you just walked out on your marriage without a by your leave. A disgrace.”
“Susie!”
“No! I’m not listening to one more word from you about this. Just sort the whole thing out.”
The doorbell rang again.
“Attracta, get the door,” Susie said as Attracta walked past us with a plateful of cocktail sausages and chicken goujons.
Attracta reluctantly nodded, popping a cocktail sausage in her mouth before she departed.
Susie looked around the room.
“Now, back to this party. We need a focal point. Everyone’s just drifting around aimlessly, so let’s get everyone together and you can give a speech. You can stand on one of the beer crates for a bit of extra height. Actually, we’ll stack about three of them on top of each other and for all the world, it’ll be like a stage. Put down that drink now, though – we don’t want you staggering and ruining the effect.”
I held my hand up. “Rewind there to the bit about a speech. What are you talking about?”
“Me? You’ll be doing the talking. That’s how you giving a speech works.”
“What about?”
“Me! What else? How great I am, how much you’ll all miss me . . .”
“Mum, this isn’t funny. You have to stop making jokes about all this.”
“I’m deadly serious. Oh, look, I slipped another pun in – I’m getting good at this as time goes on.”
“Stop it. This is not funny and nobody here is laughing.”
“Duh, Holly. That’s the whole point. I know you won’t have them rolling in the aisles either, but we need something to happen. Wait there.”
She opened a cupboard and retrieved the key to the back door from where she knew I’d hidden it – inside an unused packet of Nicorette “quit smoking” chewing gum that Willie had foolishly spent money on for her – and went outside. She tugged at Dad’s sleeve as she passed him and took him outside to the garden with her. All too soon, they were back with three crates.
“No, Mum. This is ridiculous!” I said as she stacked the crates on top of each other.
Her expression was at best crazed as she hissed at Willie to leave her alone when he tried to help her with her job, despite the confusion on his face that indicated that he had no idea what the purpose of this job was. I looked around for Terry – the only person who might be able to talk her out of this – but he was nowhere to be seen.
Attracta came over.
“Holly, that was a camera crew at the door from your show. They heard about the party and wanted to take some footage for the revisited show.”
“What? You didn’t let them in, did you?”
“Of course not! I sent them packing.”
“Thanks, Attracta. The cheek of them! I don’t even know how they heard about the party.”
Meanwhile, Susie was lunging at a bottle on the table with one hand. She pushed canapés and chocolates aside with the other until she found what she was looking for – some form of metalware.
“Everyone, listen up!” She walked from the kitchen to the sitting room, clinking the side of the bottle with a knife incessantly u
ntil everyone fell silent. “Holly wants to say a few words.”
She stood at the door that joined the sitting room with the kitchen, doing her best impression of a guard directing traffic as one arm jutted towards the stacked crates and the other waved people out of the sitting room. I stood frozen in the kitchen, incredulous at what she was doing to me.
“What’s going on?” Cliff appeared at my side. “What are you going to say?”
“I have no idea.”
Escape wasn’t an option. Everyone in the room was now staring at me expectantly. I looked from one person to the next, as if their faces could give me the answer to what I was meant to do here. As the seconds ticked by, it became obvious that the only option was to attempt to say something. If I refused, it was clear that Susie would lose it altogether.
I cleared my throat. “I just wanted to say—”
“No, no, no. Your stage, Holly!”
“No, Susie. Here will do,” I said in my most authoritative tone.
“It will not. Up you go! Go on, get up!”
She thrashed her arms wildly, hitting Jaguar’s rear end as he walked past – an event that wasn’t entirely accidental, no doubt. If looks could kill, hers would have said, “That’s for the vase.”
“Just do it,” Cliff muttered in my ear. “Get it over with, whatever it is.”
I exhaled resignedly. When in doubt, it was always best to listen to Cliff. I walked up to the crates and clambered up to the top of Susie’s health and safety nightmare creation.
“Right, well, I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all for coming to Susie’s . . . party, and for your support during this difficult time.” My right ankle wavered slightly as my high heels connected with a hole in the crate. “Actually, just give me a second . . .”
Locked Out of Heaven Page 35
