“Because Elle seems perfectly fine. If you ask me, she’s just a little selfish and a little spoilt.”
“No,” Jane said. “She disappears for weeks and weeks. She’s
so exuberant sometimes and at others she’s so pensive, so sad.”
“We all get like that – it’s called life.”
“Then there was China.”
“What about China?”
“She was in Hong Kong with her boyfriend. They were in some club and they had a big fight. He told her he wanted their relationship to end, that he wasn’t happy any more and that it was over. He was flying home the next day. Right after that there was an accident. Elle was hit by a car and ended up in a coma for two days. By the time I got there she’d woken up, but she’d broken her left leg and arm. She was fine but it scared the life out of us. Vincent – that was her boyfriend – was sitting by her bed and so attentive I thought they were still love’s young dream but one day when we were getting coffee he told me about their fight and that she’d jumped out in front of the car on purpose.”
“And you didn’t believe him.”
“She swore she hadn’t seen the car.”
“So you believed her.”
Jane nodded. “Who jumps in front of cars?” She was crying again. “I should have known. After all, her father hanged himself with a skipping rope and me, well, Jesus, I threatened to kill my own child.”
“You were just crying out for help.”
“And what was she doing?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
She raised her head and looked at him. “How does it feel not to be the most messed-up person in the room?”
“Pretty good.” He smiled at her and wiped away a stray tear.
“Well, that’s something, then,” she said, and he leaned in and kissed her, and they made love twice before they fell into a sound sleep.
Elle answered her front door expecting it to be her mother, who had been up and down to her cottage harassing her since Jane had stopped talking to her.
Jane was standing there, pulling her coat in close to her chest. “Can we talk?” she said.
“Yes, please.”
Jane closed the door behind her and, for the first time in her life, she had no idea what she was going to say to her sister.
Chapter 15
Happy Death
A happy death is all I want
,
to feel that I have loved someone
and did the things I said I’d do
and lived my life true
.
Jack L,
Universe
November 2008
Breda died on a Tuesday morning at nine o’clock. She was alone. Her husband was in the toilet next door and the rest of her family were in traffic. Eamonn arrived ten minutes after she was pronounced dead, with Frankie running in two seconds later, panting and in need of oxygen. Kate followed within five minutes. But it was too late. Their wife and mother was gone.
“She waited until I left the room,” Ben said. “Your mother never liked to make a fuss.”
Kate hugged him. “I know, Dad.”
She took Ben outside and Eamonn sat with Breda for a while. All the pain was gone from her face, all the ravages of time melted away. Her spirit had moved on and she looked thirty years younger than she was.
“Are you with Alexandra, Mam?” Eamonn said. “Is that
why you had to go?” He left soon after and Breda’s body lay in silence.
Tom got off the phone from Kate and rang Jane. “Breda’s gone,” he said.
“What can I do?”
“Come to the funeral.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” If she hadn’t slept with Tom she wouldn’t have had a problem with it, but now attending his mother-in-law’s funeral seemed in bad taste.
“She liked you.”
“Making me feel worse.”
“Please come,” he said, and Jane knew he badly needed the back-up.
“Okay,” she agreed, and hung up.
Kurt came in, threw his bag down in the hallway and stormed into his room. Jane followed him and knocked at his door. “Go away,” he said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just want to be left alone.”
“Okay.”
She walked down the hall and into the kitchen.
“Jane! Jane! Jane! Jane, it’s your mother! Jane!”
She pressed the button. “Yes, Rose.”
“Come down.”
“I’m busy.”
“I want to talk to you.”
“I haven’t time.”
“Five minutes.”
“You have two.”
Jane sat on her mother’s sofa and Rose poured herself a large glass of wine.
“What did Dr Griffin say?” Rose asked.
Jane had made an appointment to see him in his surgery the previous day. She had waited for a good half an hour because it was flu season and a few times she thought about bolting. When his receptionist told her to go in her feet had felt like blocks of cement and she had had to drag herself to his door.
Dr Griffin smiled at her and she sat down. “What can I do for you, Jane?”
“You can tell me how my father died.”
He sat back in his chair, looked at his hands and rubbed his knuckles. “When did she tell you?”
“Twelve days ago. I can give you the hour and the minute too if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry, Jane. It must have been a shock.”
“You could say that,” Jane said. “Why have you never told me?”
“It’s not my place, Jane, you know that.”
“You were there. You saw him. Rose said you took him down.” Tears were welling but she was refusing to let them fall.
“Your dad had a lot of demons.”
“And Elle? Does Elle have demons, Dr Griffin?”
He sat up. “What do you mean, Jane?”
Although Dr Griffin had been the Moore family’s general practitioner for years, the family member he had had least contact with was Elle. In fact, the last time he had seen her with any kind of ailment she had been twelve so, as far as
Dr Griffin was concerned, Elle was as fit as a flea.
“Rose thinks Elle is like my father.”
“In what way?”
“Temperament.”
He laughed. “Well, that’s natural. We all inherit aspects of our parents. You are sometimes like Rose.”
“I am not!” Jane said, with the greatest alarm.
“The last time I was in your house you threatened to kill her.”
“That was just talk.”
“Yes, but familiar talk,” Dr Griffin said. “Just because some of Elle’s behaviour is reminiscent of her father doesn’t mean there is a problem.”
“She stole her boyfriend’s car and burned it out. Then she packed her bags and disappeared for a while. She often disappears – she puts a sign on her door to tell us that she’s gone fishing and we just wait for her to come back. Sometimes it’s days, sometimes weeks. She drinks a lot. Two years ago she nearly overdosed on cocaine and after that she promised faithfully she wouldn’t do it again. A few months ago my son found her in a freezing cold bath – she was blue. She said she’d fallen asleep. She throws money away. She has sex with stranger after stranger, and recently she had an affair with Kurt’s dad yet for years she barely tolerated him. Sometimes she behaves like there’s no tomorrow and other times she acts as though she can see eternity laid out before her and she can’t stand it. She lives her life according to a letter she writes once a year to the bloody Universe. And then there was China.”
After Jane had finished telling Dr Griffin about the incident in China he was adamant that Elle needed to be
referred to a psychiatrist who specialized in diagnosing the kind of condition he suspected Elle suffered from.
“Rose doesn’t want that,” Jane said.
“Rose shouldn’t have a say.”
“She said it was only when doctors got involved that Dad hanged himself.”
“Your dad was very sick and, no, he didn’t get the help he needed but times have changed and I promise you that if you get Elle to agree to see someone it will help – maybe not immediately but it will help.”
“I’m scared.”
“That’s perfectly normal.”
“How could I have been so blind?”
“Because we see what we want to see.”
“Vincent tried to warn me,” Jane said. “All the times I called him names and thought he was shallow and stupid, and he was the only one who really saw her.”
“It’s easier when you’re on the outside.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Talk to her.”
“And say what? Hi, Elle, we think you’re insane?”
“No, Jane, talk to her, listen to her, tell her that you care.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks, she’ll love that, bearing in mind she threw a shoe at my TV the one time Dr Phil was on. The off/on button still sticks.”
Now Jane sat in Rose’s basement apartment and they debated what Jane should and shouldn’t say to her sister for more than an hour. Rose was adamant that no doctor go near her girl. “They only make it worse, Jane,” she said, “and you’re so good with her.”
“I can’t be responsible for her mental wellbeing, Rose.”
Rose slapped her thigh. “Which is exactly why I didn’t say anything before. You had enough on your plate. Bloody Dominic! The first time I saw his snivelling face I should have knocked his bloody teeth out. He wouldn’t have been so cute then.”
“You know, Elle isn’t the only one with mental problems in this house.” Jane stood up and walked out of the door.
“Darling, we’re all mad – you, me, stupid bloody Dominic, precious Tom, that poor titless woman, the woman next door, Paddy the postman. There isn’t one of us that someone hasn’t thought mad at least once.”
“Yeah, well, this madwoman is going upstairs.”
“Just talk to her. Just be good to her!” Rose shouted, as Jane was closing her front door.
Please mind her, Janey – please don’t let them take her, because when they come, it only gets worse
.
The funeral took place on the Friday. Leslie made her way to Jane’s and arrived in time to see Kurt running down the steps with toast in his mouth. “Hi, Kurt,” she said.
“Hi, Wezwee.”
I’ve been called worse
, she thought.
He left the door swinging open for her so she walked inside and called Jane. Jane came down the stairs in black. Leslie looked at Jane and then at herself. She was wearing red. “Is this inappropriate?” she asked.
“No, you’re fine.”
“Are you sure? We were never particular about wearing black at family funerals but other people are funny about it, aren’t they?”
“You’re fine.” She looked up the street outside for Kurt
but he was gone. “I missed Kurt,” she said, following Leslie into the kitchen. “Did he look okay?”
“He was running and spoke with his mouth full – so if that’s okay?”
“Irene broke up with him.”
“Oh,” Leslie said. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know you were fond of her.”
“Yeah, well, I’m fonder of my son. I’m actually a bit pissed off with her, which is stupid and childish, I know. He’s devastated.”
“He didn’t look devastated.”
“Well, he is. She told him he studies too much, if you can believe that.”
“They’re young, and young people break up all the time.” Leslie poured herself a coffee.
“And I wouldn’t mind but he doesn’t study that much at all,” said Jane. “Obviously more than when he was in school but this is university – and medicine, for God’s sake! What did she expect?”
“Jane, are you taking Kurt’s break-up a little worse than he is?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. He won’t talk to me about it.”
“I don’t blame him.”
Jane poured herself a coffee and sat with Leslie. “I slept with Tom.”
Leslie spluttered, and coffee dribbled down her chin. Jane handed her a tea-towel and she dried her face. Jane took it back, aimed for the washing basket behind her and landed the shot.
“Tom, the husband of the woman we’re looking for, that Tom?” Leslie said.
“That Tom.”
“I don’t know how to feel about that.”
“Me neither. I really like him but I don’t know if it’s because I actually really like him or that I like him because he’s unavailable. If my history’s anything to go by, it’s probably the latter. And then there is the fact that he’s married to my childhood best friend, who he loves and is missing. And, if I’m honest, I think she’s dead.”
“Hah!” Rose shouted, from the doorway. “I knew you thought she was dead all along.”
“Rose,” Jane said, “have you ever heard of knocking?”
Rose sat down beside Leslie. “How are you feeling?” she said, pointing at Leslie’s chest.
“Fine.”
“You’re so brave,” Rose said. “I would rather have died.”
Leslie laughed, and Jane silently thanked God for her friend’s good humour.
Rose was going to the funeral even though she hadn’t laid eyes on the Walshes in twenty years. Jane had attempted to talk her out of it but she was determined to pay her last respects to the woman who had taken her daughter on holiday on many occasions in the eighties.
“But you didn’t like her,” Jane argued. “You thought she was a holier-than-thou, pain-in-the-arse Bible-basher.”
“Jane,” Rose said, “that really is no way to talk about the dead.”
Jane gave up. Rose was in good form because she loved a good funeral.
“Where’s Elle?” Leslie asked.
“She’s making her own way.”
“I’m really glad you’ve made up,” Leslie said. “She was lost without you.”
“Do you hear that, Jane?” Rose said. “She was lost without you.”
“Shut up, Rose.”
“Darling, if you think you’re going to bag a man with that kind of attitude you’re wrong. I mean, I know Tom’s standards aren’t particularly high and he has a penchant for cheeky little cows, but maybe if you toned it down just a tad you’d have better luck.”
Jane groaned. “Just go to the car.”
They got to the church on time. Jane sat at the back but Rose walked halfway up the aisle because she didn’t want a pillar blocking her view. Elle joined Leslie and Jane. The atmosphere between Elle and Jane was a little strained. Although Jane had forgiven her, Elle wasn’t sure why and Jane had decided against explaining her reasoning. Instead she had merely said that blood was thicker than water and that if Elle wanted her to represent her artwork she would, as long as she promised not to set it on fire again.