Page 56 of The F*cking Fabulous Forties Club

‘We were both dicks, weren’t we?’ I ask, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably when my voice cracks and yet more tears fall.

‘Absolute dicks,’ Laura says and pulls me back into a hug. What Conal thinks of this is anyone’s guess but I can’t think about that. Not now and not even when he says he’s going to put the kettle on and make us some tea, even though I’m pretty sure it’s just a ruse to get away from us.

‘Tea would be lovely,’ Laura tells him. ‘Milk, no sugar for both of us,’ she adds. ‘Assuming you still take your tea that way?’

I nod. ‘A creature of habit,’ I say.

‘Let’s go and sit in the living room,’ Laura says. ‘We can put the gas fire on and get a bit of heat going.’

‘That sounds good,’ I say, glad to have someone else take the lead.

‘I suppose we knew it was never going to be easy,’ Laura says, as she takes a seat by the fire. By the well-worn appearance of the chair, the slight sag in the seat, I imagine this was Kitty’s preferred spot. A crocheted blanket hangs over the back of the chair, which Laura pulls around her knees.

‘I made this for Mum,’ she says, as the gas flames start to heat the room. ‘Can you imagine it? Me crocheting? Took me much too long and you wouldn’t want to look too closely at it.’

‘It looks perfect,’ I say and mean it. And I know that Kitty would’ve adored it. Kitty was the kind of woman who kept every drawing and wonky Mother’s Day present her children brought her home from school. ‘The flaws are what make it perfect,’ she’d say. ‘They make it unique.’

‘It’s far from perfect,’ Laura laughs. ‘You do remember that my skills do not lie with any sort of crafts. Remember that time I tried to knit a scarf and it ended up looking like a string bag instead, but with holes too big to be of any use to anyone.’

I can’t help but smile. I remember it all too well. Laura’s face had flushed crimson as Mrs McCay, our Home Economics teacher, had actually laughed at her efforts, but Kitty had made a point of wearing it anyway – to the parent-teacher meeting where she had let Mrs McCay know exactly how she felt about teachers laughing at pupils.

‘Your mum loved it anyway,’ I say and laugh. ‘Do you remember she used to say it was a real one of a kind?’

‘I found it in the back of her wardrobe yesterday. I threatened Robyn that I was going to wear it, expecting her to be horrified, but she said it was actually really cool and gothic and she asked if she could have it.’

I have to admit, I’m impressed. ‘Maybe it’s time to start building the dodgy scarf empire you always dreamt of?’ I joke.

‘Maybe,’ Laura says. ‘But I think I’d like to rebuild our friendship first.’

‘I’d like that too,’ I say as Conal carries two mugs into the room and hands one to each of us. Lazlo runs in, does a quick scan of the room, lets out a disappointed bark and leaves. ‘He’s such a diva,’ Conal says as he hands over the mugs. ‘Is that enough milk for you?’ he asks. ‘I can get some more.’

‘It’s fine, Conal. Thanks a million,’ I tell him, feeling something I can’t quite put my finger on in the way he looks at me. He gives me a slow smile – the kind that makes your heart beat a little faster and gives you those delicious curls right in the very pit of your stomach.

I watch as he leaves the room, before turning my attention back to Laura and rebuilding what was lost between us.

‘You know he always fancied you,’ Laura says, as she raises her eyebrows and sips from her mug of tea.

37

MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

Conal O’Hagan used to fancy me? It seems absurd. Back then he was the cool big brother who would tell us to stop screeching along to Madonna, or roll his eyes if we spent more than five minutes in his company. It always felt as if we were an irritation to him. I certainly didn’t get any ‘I fancy you’ vibes.

I’m sure I’d have remembered if I did, given that, as Niamh reminded me, I did kind of fancy him too. But back then I also saw him as totally and utterly unattainable – like Fox Mulder was unattainable, and Robbie Williams was unattainable – mostly because it felt like we annoyed his very existence.

‘Wise up!’ I tell her, even though I secretly hope it’s true. ‘I was just his wee sister’s geeky friend.’

‘It seems you were more than that,’ she says in an almost whisper. ‘Not that I knew it at the time. But Mum told me, during one of our long chats near the end.’

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I have to suppress a little shiver. If I believed in ghostly matters I would swear Kitty O’Hagan was in this room now weaving all of this together in that unique way she had of making things right.

‘I made sure we talked about everything in those last weeks,’ Laura says. ‘And as you know, my mammy liked to talk. I was supposed to be comforting and nursing her, but I think she was giving me a lifetime of mammy advice and experience to carry me forward. I think she always knew that you and I, and Niamh, would talk again one day. She would tell me that I would have people – friends – around me to hold me up when she was gone and so I wasn’t to be scared.’

I’m filled with a sense of love and admiration for Kitty and immense gratitude for her faith in our friendship. But there is also a heavy feeling of sadness and guilt that it took her passing for Laura and me to finally talk again – that she never got to see us reconcile and know for definite that Laura would be okay. And that it took her passing and the reconnection with Laura for me to finally sit down and really examine my life and the decisions I’ve made along the way.

‘I was hurting back then,’ I tell her, and Laura looks genuinely confused.

‘When Mammy was dying?’ she asks with a raised eyebrow.

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