Diamond Girl (42 page)

When I got home, I made a last stop into the darkened main house.  I found the can of black spray paint on the floor of the filthy kitchen and painted the words 'Help me' over and over until the can was empty, then I threw it in the corner where I thought I saw movement.
Now I’m back in my guesthouse.

I won’t be leaving again.

Chapter 45

So that’s it, my review of the greatest hits of Carolyn Kelleher.

What’s that old song say, ‘the road is long'?

A week ago I would have said, hell yeah, it’s been too long. I feel different now. I guess everybody does when it’s too late to fix things. I made it to the New Year, though. That’s something.

I can hear fireworks exploding out there somewhere and happy people yelling. I wonder what they’re happy about, a new year, making it through an
other year. Maybe they know all the secrets to living happily ever after and so every day is the first day of the rest of your life, or some such crap, but most likely they are just drunk.

It’s just me and the rodents here now, having our own little party. This is my last night, my last New Year’s, the last of me, and I still don’t know anything.

Maybe that’s the way it goes for everyone.

I do know a couple things. I know that a famous name can open every door but what the hell do you do when you go through it?  I know people are stupid and value all the wrong things. Usually they value money most of all and money spends so fast. Maybe love does too.

I just wish I’d had the chance to find out.

To Belle Avery, friend, mentor and lodestar, this one's for you.

I would also like to thank Tim Hewtson and Sheila Bellshaw who took my stacks of messy pages and made a book out of them. To Claudia who forces me to keep up the work and to my sweet mother, all my family and friends, and anyone else besides them who reads this book.

I love all of you and that includes the beautiful lost girl who inspired this dark fairy tale. I always grin up at the brightest star in the darkest night and think of you. Everything's okay now.

Kathleen McKenna

March 2013