The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes (38 page)

‘She was in drinking competitions with you?’ Molly asked.

‘Only once in a blue moon, and it’s not like you’re going to kill her for it now,’ Francie said.

‘I can still kill the pair of you,’ Molly said.

Rabbit heard everyone laughing again.

‘Francie and Jay knew your ma when she was your age, Juliet,’ Davey said.

‘What was she like back then?’ Juliet asked.

‘A Rabbit,’ Francie said.

Rabbit liked listening to the banter. She’d heard everyone chat but her da.

Is he gone? Da? Where are you?

Francie moved on to joking around with Mabel. ‘You know, you and Casey are the only two lesbians I’ve ever known? I’m not going to lie to you, but before I met yous, I thought lesbians were just ugly, mean girls making do.’

‘But the pair of yous are really lovely . . .’ Jay said.

‘Don’t be a perv,’ Francie said.

‘I’m not being a perv. I’m being honest and complimentary.’

‘Sounded fucking pervy to me. It’s the way you say it.’

Mabel enjoyed the guys. They had come to Nashville many times over the years and even slept on the tour bus. Jay loved it. Francie couldn’t believe grown adults lived like that.

‘When are you coming back on tour with us, guys?’ Mabel asked.

‘Tomorrow,’ Jay said.

‘In that moving fucking coffin? No offence, Rabbit,’
none taken
, ‘but I’m too old for that shite.’

When the lads were going, they said goodbye to Rabbit.

‘If this isn’t the end, say hi to Johnny for me,’ Francie said.

If it’s not the end I’ll do more than say hi, Francie.

‘It’s been a pleasure, Rabbit,’ Jay said, and she felt him take her hand. ‘We’ll miss ya.’ His voice cracked.

I’ll miss you too, lads.

Her ma was ever present. Her da was in and out; sometimes when he was on his own he’d talk to her.

‘Did I ever tell you that the day you were born was the best day of my life?’ he asked.
A million times, Da.
‘You landed into this world with a bang. Your mammy wouldn’t admit it, but you nearly scared her half to death. But I had you. Nothing was going to go wrong because your daddy had you.’
Thank you, Da. I love you, Da
.

Davey was never too far away from Juliet. She could hear him console her and talk her through what was going on. ‘You can touch her, if you like, Bunny. Just tell her how you feel and she’ll hear you.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Rabbit has never missed a trick.’

That’s right, Davey Hayes.

‘Ma . . .’
Yes, Bunny.
‘When I grow up, I hope I’m just like you.’
Me, too. I rock.
‘And, Ma, don’t be scared.’

I won’t if you won’t.

Davey told her that he wouldn’t let her down and promised that Juliet would never forget her
. Thank you, Davey. I love you, Davey.

Marjorie admitted that she’d just nearly screwed Davey against a tree. ‘What the hell is wrong with me? And I missed you saying “Boo” to the priest.’
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You could always make me laugh, Marjorie.

Grace admitted how lost she’d be without her. ‘I know I gave you a hard time about your lifestyle and I always thought you should be more like Marjorie.’
Bankers stick together.
‘I was wrong. I think you did everything right, except for dying. I could fucking murder you for that.’
I love you too, Grace.

Mabel gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t tell Grace, but you’re my favourite sibling, and don’t worry about Juliet. We’ve got this.’
Thanks, Mabel. I wish we’d spent more time together.

‘See ya, Auntie Rabbit.’

See ya, Stephen.

‘Love you, Auntie Rabbit.’

Love you, Bernard
.

Ryan whispered, ‘She’s going to be brilliant, Auntie Rabbit. She’s going to have the best life.’

Thank you, Ryan.

‘Jeffrey, don’t be shy, say goodbye,’ Grace said.

‘I’m scared, Ma.’

‘It’s OK, it’s OK, son. She knew you loved her.’

Bye, Jeffrey.

Lenny leaned in and kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t mind kissing but I hate tha’. Sorry, stupid joke.’
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
‘I have to take the kids home, but Grace is staying and your Ma, Da, Davey, Juliet and Mabel. Thanks for being good to me when I first sniffed around your sister. Thanks for letting me into the family. ’Bye, Rabbit.’

Thanks for loving my sister. Bye, Lenny.

When they were gone, everyone grew quieter. Juliet was asleep. They discussed what to do with her overnight: should she stay or go? They settled on Mabel bringing her home.
Bye-bye, baby
.

Davey brought her to the car. Grace went out to phone Lenny and Molly went to the loo.

‘It’s just you and me, Rabbit.’
Ah, there you are, Da.

‘You just take your time, love. No rush. You just do your own thing. You always did.’

Yeah, that’s ’cause I had you to show me how it’s done.

Three months in America turned into two years. There was an opportunity to transfer into a journalism course in an American university and so, with her parents’ support and because Johnny refused to respond to her letters, she went for it. She thought it would be easier to move on in another country, and she was almost right. She finished her degree and it was time to come home.

Johnny was living in hospital full time by then. His bowels were tied; he was blind, paralysed from the waist down and capable of uttering only the odd word here and there. He had wanted her never to see him like that but she couldn’t stay away. She stood in the doorway, petrified: he was in a worse state than she could have imagined. Jay was sitting by his bedside, reading a music magazine. ‘Stones or Beatles for best band ever?’

Johnny stuttered, ‘Bea-Bea-Bea . . .’

‘Fuck the Beatles. Stones every time.’

‘Bea . . .’

‘Don’t Bea . . . me, man.’

Francie had driven her there; Davey was living in America and working in Marjorie’s uncle’s bar. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he whispered.

She walked into the room and sat down. ‘Hi, Johnny,’ she said.

‘Rabb-Rabb-Rabbit – is it?’

‘Yeah, it’s me.’

Tears streamed down his face.

‘Good or bad tears?’ she asked.

‘G-good.’

‘For me too.’

‘Done . . . well.’

‘Yeah, really well.’

‘Proud.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Love . . . you.’

‘Love you too.’

‘Saps,’ Francie said, breaking the serious mood.

‘Fu-uck off,’ Johnny replied.

‘He says “fuck” now,’ Jay said to Rabbit.

‘It only took blindness, paralysis, a bowel bag and a fucking stutter, but we got him there,’ Francie added.

Johnny laughed a little, then choked a little, then laughed again.

She wasn’t there the day he died. She received a phone call from her ma. ‘He’s gone, love.’

‘Oh,’ she said.

‘I’m on the way over,’ Molly told her gently, ‘if your father will ever get his finger out of his arse.’ She’d shouted for his benefit. Rabbit heard her da mumble something in the background about missing keys and an impatient woman.

Davey flew back from the States on the first flight he could get, and that night Kev, Jay, Francie, Louis, Davey, Rabbit and Marjorie drank down the local pub. They told the old stories, made fun of each other, laughed, cried and toasted Johnny Faye.

The day they buried him, her ma asked her if she had let go.

‘Not yet,’ she said.

‘In your own time, Rabbit, in your own time, love.’

13 May 2011

The Things I Know

It was too good to be true. I felt so good and then I had my checkup and now I’m back where I started. I’m losing righty after all but, really, saying goodbye to my right breast is the least of my worries. What if it’s spread? I didn’t even consider that the first time around. How stupid am I? It just didn’t seem possible, and now everything and anything is possible. I just have to hope and batten down the hatches.

I’m dreading telling my mother, Grace, my da and Davey, and I honestly can’t bear to tell Juliet. She was so brave the last time around but that tremble in her lip when she’s trying her best to smile through pain is like a knife in me. And, oh, Marjorie, you made me promise to live for ever, or at the very least to go quietly in my eighties when you’re too old to give a fuck and a funeral is a lovely day out. I’m gutted. I’ve let you all down.

My operation is booked in for two days’ time so I’ll tell them tomorrow. I have one more day of normality with my family before all hell breaks loose again. I’m heartbroken. It’s hard to stomach the pain I’m about to cause. I’m so sorry. I did my best. I had it licked. It was done – and now it’s back and I’m numb. I know what’s ahead. This time I go in with eyes wide open. I’m not scared any more, I’m just angry.

But you know what? A pissed-off Hayes is not someone to fight with, so, ding-dong, round two . . . If I’m going, I’m doing it my way.

Maybe I won’t be able to do all the things I said I’d do. I won’t be the mother of the bride, and there will be no growing old and bouncing grandchildren on my knee. Maybe that wasn’t going to happen anyway, but it doesn’t matter now because I have a new plan. I’m just going to live. I’m going to be a daughter, a sister, a friend and, most importantly, a mother. I’m going to work and pay my rent. I’m going to take holidays and write postcards. I’m going to cook and read and spend time with the people I love. I’m going to allow myself alone time and to get bored. Every tree is not going to inspire a sonnet and every downpour won’t encourage me to run, skip or jump into puddles. No, I’m going to bitch about the weather, like everyone else, because I’m Irish and that’s what we do. I’m going to enjoy my mother because she’s something special and it’s been a privilege to be a part of her life. I’m going to throw my arms around my da more because I’m his Rabbit and he’s my daddy. I’m going to spend time with my nephews and remind them that there is more to this world than leaving school and joining the bank. (Actually, the recession has probably done that – and who knows? Maybe by the time I eventually die banks will be just a bad memory. That would be nice.) I’m going to tell Grace and Davey that I love them, and I’ll hug them as often as I can, even though it embarrasses them and they tell me to fuck off.

No matter what happens I’m going to live like I’m not dying because today I’m not. Today I’m here and floors need vacuuming, clothes need sorting and my little girl’s homework needs looking at. Today I’m alive and here, and now it’s my job to fill my daughter’s world with love, happiness and security. She doesn’t need Disney Land, she just needs me, and I’ll do my best so that when I’m gone she’ll have a head full of memories and a heart full of love.

I will be finished but, with the help of my often chaotic, sometimes infuriating and always adoring family, I know my daughter will grow, laugh, love and live on.

OUTSIDE, THE BIRDS
were singing, and Rabbit could feel the warmth of the light streaming through the window moving from her thighs to her stomach and face. Her da was snoring and she could hear Davey and Grace breathing steadily in their sleep. Her ma was the only one awake and holding her hand. She could feel her heart slow down. She was coming to a full stop.
Doing it me own way, Da
. As Rabbit’s body slowly shut, she focused on the road ahead. It was her old road, the one she’d grown up on, and a young, fit, healthy Rabbit was sitting on her wall outside her house. She looked for Johnny and found him stepping into the back of Uncle Terry’s van; he was perfect, grinning, singing softly to himself. She watched him disappear into it. Then he reappeared: ‘Well, are you coming or wha’?’

‘Don’t bang the side panel,’ she warned him, as she slowly approached the van.

He grinned. ‘You’d better hurry up, then.’

‘I’m not running after you.’

‘Can’t come back this time around, Rabbit.’

‘So don’t bang the side panel.’

He banged the side panel.

‘Ya bollocks.’

The van took off slowly. She walked behind it. It started to move faster and she broke into a little run. The doors started flapping and Johnny reached out his hand.

‘It’s now or never, Rabbit.’

In the room, Rabbit’s hand gripped her ma’s, making her start.

‘Rabbit?’ Ma whispered.

‘Have to catch the van, Ma.’

‘Safe trip, Rabbit,’ Molly said.

Johnny leaned forward, with his arm outstretched, and Rabbit ran faster, reaching out as far as she could. He pulled her into the darkness and, in the midst of her final dying moments, she held on tight to the man she’d never let go.

Thank you to Dr Ruth Fenton for taking time to talk me through hospice medicine and care. Thanks to my pal Dr Enda Barron, who is always on the end of the line to talk medicine, whether it’s for
Rabbit
or
Holby City
, and for lending me a computer when mine exploded. I’ll be forever indebted. Thank you to all my friends for your patience and support. Thanks to my family, especially the O’Sheas for taking me in when I needed the most care and the Floods for watching over Mom and being my home away from home. Thank you to my agents Sheila Crowley and Jessica Cooper at Curtis Brown – you’ve opened up a whole new world and I’m so grateful. Thank you to Harriet Bourton and everyone at Transworld for your enthusiasm for Rabbit and your tireless work to give her the best chance of life. (See what I did there.) Finally, for your stories, relentless optimism and witty repartee, thanks to my husband, Donal McPartlin, his mother and father, Terry and Don, his sisters, Ruth, Felicity and Rebecca, his brothers-in-law, Mick Lambert, Mick Creedon and Aidan Cornally, his best and oldest friends, Charlie and Jerry Bennett, and of course not forgetting Ken Brown.

Jimmy Tague, RIP.