The Last Goodbye (17 page)

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Authors: Caroline Finnerty

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary Fiction, #British & Irish, #Classics, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Romance, #Sagas, #New Adult & College, #QuarkXPress, #ebook, #epub

BOOK: The Last Goodbye
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“There you are now,” Dad said as he turned off the engine, the wipers coming to an abrupt stop.
We followed him in the back door and into the kitchen.
“Sit down there at the table and I’ll put the kettle on. I’m sure you’re parched after the journey.”
He made a pot of tea and put it on the table with three mugs. Coffee wasn’t an option so I had warned Ben not to bother asking. Dad laid down a plate of buttered brown bread in front of us.
“It’s lovely to finally see where Kate comes from,” Ben said as if I wasn’t in the room.
“Well, it’s great to have you here – we don’t get to see her often enough – but I know you’re busy over there, love. Patrick and his gang will be over soon and Seán will be down to see you this evening. You haven’t met little Daniel and Mia.”
He was referring to my niece and nephew, Patrick’s children. I felt an acute wave of guilt wash over me.
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to that. What age are they again?”
I could see Ben looking at me in disbelief.
“Well, Daniel was six last month and Mia is three.”
“Wow, time flies.” I could feel myself reddening under Ben’s glare.
All the same ornaments and figurines were on display in the glass cabinet. There was a china doll, with pale skin, rosy cheeks and a lacy petticoat, that I had been mad about as a girl. I used to beg to be allowed to play with it.
After we had finished our tea I got up from the table. “We should bring our bags down to the room.” As we walked down the hall to the bedroom, I noticed the navy carpet with its green flecks had been replaced by laminate wood flooring. I glanced briefly at the old family photos that still hung on the wall. I remembered when one large family photo had been taken. We had all been marched to a photography studio in Ballyrobin, dressed up in our Sunday best. Our clothes and hairstyles looked so old-fashioned now. With my blonde pudding-bowl-style haircut I could easily have passed for a boy except for the corduroy dress with the embroidered trim that I was wearing. Ben had a right laugh when he saw it.
“So you’re a natural blonde then!”
It was the first time he had ever seen a childhood photo of me.
“I told you I was.”
“But I can’t understand why you need to fork out a hundred quid every few weeks getting highlights then?”
“And that’s because you’re a man.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I held my breath as I pushed back the bedroom door. The same cream floral wallpaper was still on the walls. It was all a bit dusty and the air was musty even though Dad had opened the window to air the room before we came. All my old books with yellowed pages – from Enid Blyton to Judy Blume and right up to Stephen King – were still on the shelves. My rosettes from my horse-riding days still hung on the wall. But the bed was a double one instead of my old single.
A poster of Jared Leto hung down by one corner.
“What is it about that guy? My sister Laura was mad about him as well.” Ben picked up the corner and tried resticking it with the Blu-Tack that was the still on the wall but it just kept on folding back down on itself so he eventually gave up.
“I was obsessed with him as a teenager – I was convinced we would have been so suited if only I could have met him in real life.”
“People say I look like him, y’know?”
“Yeah, Ben, about as much as I resemble Angelina Jolie.”
“Harsh.” He shook his head.
The rain hopped off the flat-roof extension where my bedroom was in staccato beats.
“I never knew you could play the violin?” He was pointing to my Grade Two exam certificate that hung on the wall.
“I can’t. Well, not now anyway. I hated practising so I didn’t keep it going.”
He continued poking and examining stuff as he went around the room.
“Here, what’s this?” he said as he grabbed something off the bookshelves.
I recognised it straight away.
“Here, give it to me, Ben!”
“No way.” He held it over my head and started flicking through the pages as I tried to reach up and take it back off him. This was where his height came in handy for him.
“Ben, give it to me
now
!”
And he knew by my tone that I meant it. He handed the diary to me.
I looked at the orange cover, practically covered with inky blue doodles. I sat on the bed and opened it up. I read the date on top of the page:
2
nd
September 1994
. I did a quick mental calculation. I would have been fifteen. As I read through the entry it all came rushing back to me. Suddenly I felt like I was back there again in that exact moment, sitting under that mountain of hurt. I could remember exactly how I had felt when I had written it. I may have escaped it all in London but all it took was something small like this and I was right back there again. Tears brimmed in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Kate – I thought it was just a silly teenage diary. If I had known I never would have picked it up like that.”
“God, this is ridiculous – I can’t believe the effect all this still has on me.” I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands.
He came up beside me and draped his arm across my shoulders. “Sorry, Kate, I didn’t realise. C’mon, please don’t cry, this isn’t good for you or the baby.”
“Well then, you should never have made me come back here.”
Chapter 22
Later that evening Patrick and his wife Luisa called over. Luisa was Brazilian and had moved to Ireland to work in a local factory over ten years ago. She had met Patrick in a bar and the two of them had teamed up and got married. I hadn’t seen them since their wedding day and that had been my first time to meet Luisa.
Patrick looked older now. Even though I was a little over a year older than him, he looked years older than me. He had flecks of grey in his hair near the temples. His skin was more lined too, from working the farm in all weather I supposed.
I went to give him a kiss on the cheek but he went for the other side and we awkwardly bumped heads.
“And Luisa – good to see you again!” I gave her a hug.
Her black curly hair was longer now and her figure was a bit curvier but I supposed kids do that to you. I would know soon enough.
I introduced them to Ben and everyone shook hands politely.
“And this must be Daniel and Mia!” I bent down to the children. They were beautiful exotic creatures – I’m sure their Brazilian darkness meant that they stood out from the usual pale-faced children around these parts.
“Say hi to your Auntie Kate.”
But the children remained rooted to the spot. Daniel stared at me open-mouthed and Mia started to hide behind her mother’s skirt, pulling it over her head as an embarrassed Luisa tried to yank it back down again.
“Hi, guys, I brought you presents.”
I gave Daniel a Ben 10 watch, which seemed to do the trick – it was hard to know – but Mia didn’t mask her true feelings when I gave her a
Dora the Explorer
torch.
“I no like Dora,” she said, her huge brown eyes looking up at me.
“Don’t be silly, Mia!” said Patrick. “Say thank you to your Auntie Kate.”
I could see he was embarrassed.
“No!” she said defiantly.
“She’s grand – don’t worry about it,” I said. “I probably should have asked you what she is into first before I bought anything.”
There was a pause.
“Why don’t you all sit down,” Dad said.
“So I see you two are having a baby then?” Patrick said.
“We sure are.” I placed my hands on my rapidly growing bump.
“When are you due?” Luisa asked me in an accent that now had a tinge of Mayo in it.
“September.”
“Nice time of the year to have a baby.”
“Yeah, not too hot or too cold,” I said, repeating what Dad had said earlier on because it was all that I could think of to say. “How’s the farm going, Patrick?”
“Grand – we’ll be starting the harvesting next week if we get a dry spell at all.” He paused. “How long are ye home for?”
“We’re heading back Sunday morning – Ben has school on Monday.”
“You’re a teacher, aren’t you, Ben?”
“Yes – I teach Year Two.”
“I wouldn’t know what that is.”
“Oh sorry, of course – six-year-olds, like himself there.” Ben gestured at Daniel.
“You talk funny!” Daniel piped up.
Ben started to laugh.
“Daniel!” Patrick chastised him. “You have a bit of the accent yourself, Kate.”
“Do I?”
“Well, I suppose fifteen years will do that to you,” Patrick said.
“Wow! Am I gone that long?” Even though I knew that I was.
He said nothing. He didn’t need to. The words hung there in the air between us.
“Who’s for tea?” Dad said, breaking the silence.
He placed the teapot down on the table with the mugs that he had looped through the fingers of his other hand.
He poured the tea and we all added our own milk and sugar.
Soon after, Seán stopped by on his way home from work.
“Hiya, Kate!” He stuck his smiling head around the back door.
“Seán!” I stood up and walked over to hug him. I was four years older than him but he was still my baby brother.
Was I imagining it or did I catch Patrick rolling his eyes?
“And this must be Ben?” He walked over and shook hands with him. “And what’s the story with this?” He pointed to my bump.
“It’s a baby – duh!”
He laughed. “Well, fair play to you! Congratulations.”
“I hear you’re working in Acton’s?”
“Yeah, for my sins, but it’s grand.”
“Are they still as stingy as ever?”
“Worse. They’re tighter than a camel’s arse in a sandstorm, the miserable gits. Ah, sure it’s handy for the time being – but I’ll give myself a couple of more years and then see where I end up. Who knows, I might even head to London!”
“Well, you’re very welcome any time, you know that.”
“So what are yeer plans for the weekend?”
“I’m not sure really, to be honest.”
“Well, I’m meeting a few of the lads in Doyle’s later – will you and Ben join us?”
Doyle’s was the main pub in the square in Ballyrobin. There were three pubs in the village – one was a tiny old-man pub and the other had a reputation as a rough spot, so Doyle’s was the place where everyone went.
I was just about to make an excuse when Ben interrupted me, “That’d be great thanks, Seán.”
I could feel butterflies in my tummy instantly – God only knew what old faces I would bump into there.
“How about you, Patrick – fancy a few drinks?” said Seán.
“I won’t, Seán – I’ve an early start in the morning.”
“Dad?”
“I might go for one so – it’s not every day that Kate comes home to visit us.”
After dinner, we got changed and walked down to the pub. I took a deep breath as Seán pushed open the door and we followed in behind him. We got a seat in the corner. Seán asked us what we wanted to drink and went up to the bar to order the round. I watched as he chatted easily with a man sitting up on a stool at the bar. He was such a friendly type of guy – everyone loved him. He had been like that as a child too.
“Pity Patrick couldn’t join us,” Dad said.
“Yeah,” I said but really I was glad because I couldn’t handle any more of his disapproving looks, laced with guilt trips. I picked up a beer-mat and started fiddling with it idly.
The pub started to fill up a while later. I recognised a few faces of people from around the village.
As the others drank their drinks I stuck with the sparkling water. Seán entertained us with stories about Mr Acton and we were actually having a bit of a laugh. I could tell that Ben was enjoying himself anyway.
Whatever way Baby Pip was lying, she seemed to be sitting on my bladder constantly these days. Seán laughed at me as I moved past him on the seat to go to the toilet again.
I had just come out of the cubicle and was washing my hands when the girl at the basin beside me looked across at me.
“Kate – Kate Flynn, is that you?”
I turned to look at her – she was vaguely familiar.
“Yeah, hi.” I desperately tried to remember her name.
“Jane – Jane Dwyer. We were in school together.”

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