Weekend Reading

the year turns over but Lucy is no closer to finding Deb and Daire has unwelcome news for her.

2 January 1981

Dear Deb

It feels weird to be starting a new year without you here. Like closing one book and opening another, beginning a new story but in this case the one before isn’t finished. So I won’t be doing the usual new year greetings and all that stuff. Christmas nearly didn’t happen.

Only for Auntie Marge turning up with a box of decorations and a bottle of Harvey’s Bristol Cream me and Mam and Dad would have been sitting around the table poking at a leg of chicken and a few frozen peas, trying to pretend it was just like any other day. Which I suppose it is really when you don’t have the tinsel and the carols and the presents. I did buy Mam a pair of fluffy slippers and I gave Dad a jigsaw. They gave me a book token. There was a big parcel for you. It’s still sitting in the front room. I suppose it’ll be there a while more.  

  Anyway my head is splitting after the Hogmanay party I went to in Finglas last night – well actually this morning too. Some mates of Daire’s were home from Scotland, with a bag full of haggis (yuck!!) and a car load of whisky. We had a good laugh until someone started singing Auld Lang Syne. Was there ever a more morbid song in the world? I ducked out of the circle where everyone was holding hands and singing and hugging everyone else as if they were all long lost friends.

I couldn’t help moping about my long lost sister. Daire came out after me and we mooched around the estate for a while, ignoring the rain. There were parties going on in other houses, music thumping through the walls, people outlined against the curtains, holding hands or glasses or hugging, some of them in silly hats. It was like a freak show.

Photo by Marek Okon on Unsplash

  In one garden a girl a bit older than me was puking her ring up. Her friends were standing around her.

  Jasus, said one of them, I never seen so much throw up.

  Makes you wonder what’s in them kebobs.

  Horse meat. Or seagull.

  I think it’s the lettuce meself.

  Yeah, prob’ly.

  I sped up to get away from the sounds that were beginning to make me feel sick.

  I can’t stand it anymore, I said after a few minutes.

  It wasn’t the kebab or the lettuce, Daire laughed.

  I’m not talking about that, I protested. I mean my life. All this trying to act normal. Playing along with everything when most of the time I just want to creep into a hole and sleep forever.

  Don’t say that, Loose, he said, pulling me to his side, matching his stride to mine. Look, he said. You can do this, just keeping putting one foot in front of the other. Keep moving forward. And when it gets too hard I’ll hold you up.

  You can’t be keeping me upright forever, I smiled. Not that he could see the smile or my tears in the dim streetlight. His kindness was making me cry.

  Well I can when you’ve had a few jars, he laughed.

  Fair enoughsky.

  Another couple, arm in arm, passed us and said Happy New Year.

  Daire replied but I couldn’t get the words out, not even there.

  We walked on going nowhere in particular. Which about sums up my life when you think about it.

  Seriously, he said after we’d been walking a while. You can’t spend the rest of your life in Deb’s shadow. 

  I’m not in her shadow, I cried. Can’t you see? That’s the problem. She’s not here and we don’t where she is. Whether she is or not at all.

  Maybe I didn’t say it right. What I meant is you can’t go on being her shadow. You have to do your own thing. Live your own life and—

  Don’t say forget about her because I won’t. I can’t. I don’t want to.

  That’s not what I was going to say. Come here. He stopped walking and turned to face me, wrapped both arms around me and kissed me long and deep, sending a warm ripple through my whole body. I pressed my body closer to his and hugged him as tight as I could.

  Are you all right? He asked, drawing his head back from mine.

  Fine, I said, and raised my hand to touch his face. I felt his jawbone clench under my touch. Are you all right? I probed.

  Yes, but I wanted to tell you something.

  Something soft ripped inside my gut. What? I could barely whisper.

   I’m thinking of going away for a while.

   No, I screamed. No. I unhooked my hands from his waist and clamped them over my ears. No no no. I went on screaming.

  Ssshhhh. He said, and tried to remove my hands from my eyes.

  I heard footsteps approach on the path then halt and a stranger’s voice say, Hey, what’s going on mate?

  I opened my eyes in time to see a man’s knee land in Daire’s groin, sending him to the ground with a moan. Daire, Daire, I shouted, crouching beside him.

  Are you all right love? The stranger asked. Yes, I said. Yes I’m fine. I’ll look after him.

  Huh, some thanks for trying to help you. The man stepped away, took a bottle out of his pocket and swigged. Raising the bottle to me, he called Happy Fucking New Year! and wandered off.

  I clasped Daire’s face in my hands asking, Are you hurt? Should we get an ambulance?

  No, he answered hoarsely. Just winded. He hunkered on the damp pavement, drooping his head onto his knees.

  Come on, I urged. Can you get up? I muscled my shoulder in under his, dragged his arm over my shoulder and gripped his waist with my free arm. Try to stand. Let’s get in out of this rain.

  With a mighty effort I managed to haul him to his feet. He swayed a bit and I strengthened my hold on his waist.

  Wait a minute, he said. Dizzy. I’m just a bit dizzy.

  So we stood like that propping one another up, each catching our breath, feeling the aftershocks rattle in our bones. I felt as if I’d been hit over the head.

  Let’s go back to the party, Daire said, regaining his cool sooner than me.

  OK, I said although I wasn’t really up for it but I didn’t know where else we could go in that foreign land. I hadn’t a clue how to get home and besides there was no way of getting there.

  We walked slowly, heads bowed, saying nothing for a while. But when the house was in sight, I halted and said, without looking at Daire, Where are you going?

  He took a long breath in and said very slowly, I’m going to the States. A cousin of mine in Boston can get me a job on the building sites.

  I moved away from him and tensed every bit of myself, trying not to fall apart. I managed to squeak, When?

  I’ve to wait for my visa. Probably the end of the month.

  Now it was like I was the one who’d been kicked in the belly. I wrapped my arms around my waist and bawled. It’s not fair, I blubbered. Just . . . just . . .  fecking off like that. What about me? Isn’t it bad enough Deb is gone? Now you too. I can’t take this.

  At that moment the lights of a car swept the road and on an impulse I ran out in front of it. Daire yelled at me and came after me. I was blank inside except for a thought of peace. Yes, peace, just to fall down, black out and never wake again seemed like a good thing in that fraction of a second. But Daire grabbed me from behind and yanked me to one side so that I landed face down on the grass verge. I heard car tyres squeal as the car veered away. When I stood up Daire was standing in the middle of the road with his arms out. The driver rolled down his window and effed and blinded at him. Daire just shook his head and stumbled to the footpath. He sat on the kerb.

  You could have got us both killed, he gasped and lay back on the wet grass.

  I lay back beside him. Maybe that would have been a good thing.

  He took hold of my hand and squeezed it tight. Don’t ever say that again.

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As ever, I’d love to hear your thoughts on Lucy’s predicament and Family Lines in general. If you feel like sharing your ideas, please do, right here: