No Way to Say Goodbye (24 page)

Sam had started his day with a walk down by the back of the pier. He lay on the grass and stared into the blue sky with a light heart. He had come to love this little place. He had come to feel a part of it. No journey would go uninterrupted by “Hello!” or “How are you?” No distance was travelled without a beep or a wave or a hat tipped in his direction. He was known. He was liked. And even though he hadn’t made those around him aware of his past, he was no longer a stranger to the people of Kenmare. For the most part they didn’t really care where he’d come from or who he used to be. They only cared about who he was now. Gossip mostly favours the present tense and he was grateful for that.

He had thought about coming clean with Mary. He figured she deserved to know the truth. She knew he was hiding and he knew it was only a matter of time before his past caught up with his present. The problem with enlightening her was a simple one. He had grown used to not hating himself and it felt good. That said, he was always on the verge of, and one memory away from, feeling sick. At home he was surrounded by those he had disappointed. They stood before him like mirrors reflecting his every flaw. Here it was different: he had a clean slate. If he told Mary the truth she would become another mirror he had to escape. He didn’t want that. He couldn’t bear the idea of losing sight of her – and not because he was foolish enough to believe in the possibility of a soul-mate. Neither was he stupid enough to think that because his skin tingled in her presence it meant anything more than physical attraction. His senses were often heightened in the presence of a woman he wished to invade. But he would never invade Mary. Instead he yearned to crawl inside her because someone unseen was whispering to him that in her he would find home.

It was such a beautiful spring day that Mary arranged a facial. Spring was a time for buds, lambing, blue skies and exfoliation. She was booked in for midday at Gemma’s on Main Street. Of course she was fifteen minutes early, having miscalculated the time it would take to find parking.

Patty Winslow was sitting by the window, reading a well-worn copy of
The Canterbury Tales
while enjoying a complimentary cappuccino. “Hello, dear,” she said, once she’d fixed her glasses on her nose.

“Hi, Patty.”

“A little restoration?” Patty suggested.

“Something like that.”

Patty dropped her book and sat back to look at her.

“What?” Mary asked, a little uncomfortable under scrutiny.

“You appear tired.”

“I haven’t been sleeping,” Mary admitted.

“I haven’t seen dark circles the like of that since Marianne Faithfull was a teenager in love.”

“Well, I’m afraid it’s not love keeping me up all night,” Mary told her.

“And of that you’re sure?”

She sighed. “We’re just friends, Patty.”

Patty chuckled to herself.

The Italian girl at the counter told Mary in broken English that the beautician was running a little late and asked if she would like coffee. Mary asked for a cappuccino. The girl looked at her in horror, shook her head incredulously, and made her way to the kitchen.

“Who is she?” Mary asked.

“Ah, the lovely Lucia!” Patty said, amused. “You see, it’s nearly midday. You ordered what is essentially a breakfast drink, which upset the poor girl’s sensibilities. Italians take coffee drinking very seriously.”

“Really?” Mary mused.

“Oh, yes,” Patty responded. “It really is a wonder how Italy isn’t and never has been a superpower.”

Mary laughed. She couldn’t help but enjoy her upper-class British friend’s acerbic wit.

Lucia arrived with the coffee. Mary introduced herself and welcomed the girl to Kenmare. Lucia melted and Mary’s ignorance was forgiven. “I come to learn,” she said.

“You’re doing great.”

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “Doing great?”

“Doing well,” Mary amended.

“OK,” said Lucia. “Yes.” She smiled. “Nails?” She pointed to her own hand.

“No, but thanks.”

“OK,” she said, with a smile, and went back to the desk.

Patty grinned. “You have such a way with people.”

Mary nudged her.

“So, how’s Ivan?” Patty asked.

“He’s fine – he’s great, in fact. His kids are home and things seem to be going well with Sienna.”

“Splendid.”

“It is,” Mary agreed.

“And Norma?”

“She’s still in hospital and after that he doesn’t know.”

“Of course she’ll come home,” Patty said. “Where else would she go?”

“I don’t know. Either way I hope she finds some peace.”

“And you, my dear?”

“Me?”

“Have you found peace?”

“I haven’t given up,” Mary answered, with a lying smile.

“Any day now,” Patty said, “any day now.” She patted Mary’s arm. “You just be careful not to miss out. Keep your eyes and heart wide open.”

Enjoying Patty’s honesty, Mary took a chance. “Patty?”

“Yes, dear.”

“You and my dad – are you together?”

Patty smiled to herself. “If we are, then I’m certain neither of us would ever admit to it.”

“Why?” Mary asked.

“Because, my dear, mystery is half the fun.”

It was then that Gemma emerged from Room One with Penny trailing behind her. Gemma apologized to both ladies for the delay. She told Patty to make herself comfortable in Room Two while she took money from Penny. Tina would be taking care of Mary but she was just freshening up Room Three. Once payment was received, Gemma scurried into Room Two to Patty.

Penny sat beside Mary. “Well?” Penny said.

“Well?” Mary smiled – although she was shocked by Penny’s appearance.

“Are you well?”

“I am.”

“I’ve been so busy.”

“I know.”

“I’ve missed you,” Penny said.

“Missed you too.”

“Mary, I’ve been working on an article…” She didn’t get to finish as Lucia returned, pointed at her cup and uttered, “Again?”

“No,” Penny said sheepishly. She had already indulged in four of the strongest espressos in an attempt to disguise the smell of booze, which had seemed determined to seep from every pore.

Lucia left them alone.

“Are you free later?” Penny asked, having decided that the waiting area in a beauty parlour was not the ideal place to break news she needed to break.

“Sorry,” Mary said. “I’m taking Sam to visit Dick Dogs.”

Penny reeked of booze and now Mary acknowledged that her friend had a drinking problem.
What now? What can I do?

“Dick Dogs?” Penny repeated.

“He used to be friends with Sam’s grandmother’s brother,” Mary explained.

“Don’t waste your time on him, Mary,” Penny warned.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know him.”

Tina emerged from Room Three before Mary had time to respond. She didn’t say goodbye to Penny – she was so hurt by Penny’s cryptic words. Instead she just followed Tina into the small room filled with scented candles and soft music.

Penny left immediately, knowing Mary wouldn’t be calling her and berating herself for not telling her friend why she had offered such advice. It was clear that the man had found his way through the armour that shielded Mary from most. It was even clearer that in exposing him Penny was risking her friendship. She didn’t want to lose Mary, yet instinct told her to publish. The story was ready to go – she was just waiting on one thing. It was a long shot but still a possibility. Mia Johnson was scheduled to play at Wembley the following weekend. Then she had one day off before she played in Dublin. Penny was waiting to see if Mia would take the time to travel to a small town in Kerry to talk to the woman who was about to expose her errant boyfriend – or, indeed, face the man himself. After all, it would make an excellent ending, and if she didn’t, well, that suggested another kind of ending. Either way, it was a story worth telling.

Mary needed to know who she was allowing to steal her heart. He was dangerous and hadn’t the capacity to love, only to hurt. Mary had already been through hell and high water. Penny might lose her friend through exposing Sam for the selfish, weak bastard he was, but at least she would save her from grievous heartache.
She’s suff ered enough.

Tina had lived in Kenmare for five years. She was a born-and-bred Dubliner and she didn’t mind admitting to anyone who would listen that the transition from city to country was a bitch. She would never have dreamed of moving to a small town in Kerry had it not been that she’d met the love of her life in the Big Tree on Gardiner Street one Saturday night before an All Ireland final. At first she couldn’t understand his thick culchie accent and he found her flat Dublinese as difficult, but by the end of that night, language had lost meaning and within five months they were engaged. She had settled in well, and even she would admit that, although Kenmare was full of culchies, two of whom were her children, and although she had to travel to find a branch of Next, the quality of life was far superior to what she had left behind. And although her extended family had spent a great deal of their time slagging her off about her move, it was all she could do to stop them visiting every chance they got. She enjoyed her job at the salon: it was a hub of activity and rarely did anything go on in the town that was not first discussed or revealed there.

While she was cleansing Mary’s face she filled her in on her theory regarding the parentage of a local teenager’s newborn.

“I didn’t even know she was pregnant!”

“You and the rest of us, honey. Josie Riordan says she didn’t know herself. She went into the hospital with suspected appendicitis.”

“No!”

“Oh, you’re way behind. It’s bleedin’ bizarre in this day and age not to know you’re pregnant and it’s not like the young one’s mental.”

“Maybe she was just scared to say anything,” Mary surmised.

“That one? She’s a cheeky mare. I don’t know kids today. It wouldn’t have happened in our time.”

“Tina…” Mary said, about to remind her that she herself had been a teenage mother.

“It was out before I thought. Jaysus, Mary, I’m sorry.”

Mary laughed.

After that Tina was silent, busy massaging Mary’s face and shoulders. Her embarrassment made her work harder at relaxing her client. By the time she left her alone for fifteen minutes with a face-pack on, Mary was fast asleep.

Mary was standing on an empty street. She looked up and saw the red light glowing above her head, then at the ground where it was reflected in the rainwater pooling by the grate at the side of the road.
Oh, no. Not again
. The familiar teenage boy with a hood pulled tight over his face came around the corner.
Please let me go!
He was running as before and she could taste his panic. She watched him turn in time to see the boys following.
Run!
she screamed.
Run!
But she’d seen this movie before and, no matter how long or hard she called, the boy would be caught.
Please don’t make me watch this!
she cried, into the night sky.
I don’t want to be here!

She turned away when one of the boys grabbed him. She heard the thud as the boy hit the ground. She heard him cry out as the blows connected.
I won’t watch it!
she roared.
Do you hear me? I won’t watch it!
She tried to flee the scene but every corner she turned brought her back. The boy leaning against the car was grinning sadistically, watching as the boy was kicked. Darkness seeped from his every pore. She wanted to hurt him. Violence welled inside her.

“Look, Topher’s excited!” he sneered.

Oh, no!

“Give him a go!”

The boy-bear called Topher moved in and the others made way, leaving the hooded boy on the ground, too badly beaten to run. She felt his broken knuckles clutching at his face and saw his body curl into the foetal position.

I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!

Gemma had finished Patty’s pedicure and now had time to drink some coffee and berate Tina for not getting the scoop on whether Mary was getting it together with the cute American. Tina explained that she couldn’t ask in the wake of her
faux pas
. Gemma laughed.

“Excuse me, I’m not from here – I can’t remember every little bleedin’ thing!” Tina snapped.

“There’s definitely something.” Gemma ignored her employee’s outburst. “I mean, he was staying in her house for over a week.”

“I heard she made him sleep on the floor,” said Tina, conspiratorially.

“Dr Macken told her to!” Gemma informed her.

“My arse! My father’s had a bad back for twenty years and I’ve never seen him lying on a floor.”

“Have you seen Mary and the American tagging trees?” Gemma queried.

“That’s so weird! I heard he’s looking for something belonging to his granny.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the word on the street. Some say there’s something buried under one.”

“Jesus. It could be anything.”

“I’d say it’s jewellery,” said Tina. “Obviously valuable or he wouldn’t go to the trouble.”

“And he visits that tree, the one where her little boy died. He’s been seen there a number of times.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. They must be together.”

“I’m not so sure – I always thought she was a lesbian.”

“Sure, didn’t we all? Herself and Penny made a lovely couple to most people’s minds – until we found out that the bold Penny was servicing a married man all these years!” Gemma giggled. “People never fail to entertain.”

“Speaking of which, she was reeking of wine this morning,” Tina commented.

“Isn’t she always? Brona in the off-licence maintains she’s never out of the place.”

It was at this point that they heard crying in Room Three. They stared at one another. Gemma was the first to move towards the door, with Tina following.

“
Run! Run!
”

“Is she saying ‘run’?” Gemma asked Tina.

“Please don’t make me watch this!”

“Wha’ is she on?” Tina asked Gemma.

“I don’t want to be here! I won’t watch it. Do you hear me? I won’t watch it!”