Page 51 of To Hell With It

It was only when I got there that I realised I’d not opened Niall’s present. I ripped it open with impatience.

I had never received a gift from Niall before, not even for my birthday, and he’d been around for most of them. I saw the glint of silver first and then a ring – had Niall O’Callaghan bought me a bloody ring? I lifted it out and it took me a moment to work out what it was. Not a ring. I placed it in my hand and it was the first time that I had actually cried since I left Drangan.

Because there, in the palm of my hand, was a silver keyring in the shape of a woodlouse and on the back were the words –There’s no place like home.

Niall had left his number on a slip of paper that was folded neatly beside the woodlouse keyring. There was no message with it, but I suppose the message was that I could call him if I needed to. I’m not sure what I’d say to Niall if I had to call him. We’d never had a conversation on the phone before, apart from the one when I called the shop from the porch at six o’clock in the morning and Niall had answered, but I was pretty sure our conversation wouldn’t go further than the shop, and possibly the woodlice.

I hadn’t expected a gift like that from Niall and I must admit in that moment I did wonder what it meant, that he would give me something so thoughtful, but then that was just the kind of guy Niall was. Thoughtful, if a little odd here and there, but I was hardly one to talk. He probably felt sorry for me. Going off on my own to the other side of the world in pursuit of a man who didn’t know I was coming. He probably thought I was a right eejit. In fact, I knew he thought that.

But I didn’t have to prove anything to Niall O’Callaghan or Una or even Mairéad. I had to prove it to myself. I knew that. Mairéad had said that even if I got to the airport and decided to come home that would be an achievement in itself – that I had at least tried to do it. She said it was better than not trying at all and she was right, but also I would have looked like a bit of a plonker if I had come back before I got there. I probably would have camped out at the airport for a couple of weeks instead, like that guy who lived in an airport for eighteen years – although how the hell he managed that I’m not quite sure – and then his story was turned into a film with Tom Hanks. Maybe he’d star in mine (Tom Hanks, not the actual guy)? Although I don’t think two weeks in the airport would quite cut it.

I pulled out my phone and typed in Niall’s number and then my message.

Hi Niall, it’s me (Pearl). Thank you for my keyring, it’s lovely.

It made me cry.

Hope the stocktake isn’t too boring without me. Make sure you don’t give anyone else my job. Thanks again. Pearl.

X

PS: feel free to check on the woodlice every now and then …

I could see Niall typing a few seconds later.

Hi Pearl, you’re welcome. Have a safe journey. Remember what I said about the sand flies.

Followed by –

PS: we might take someone on for Saturdays. Niall.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

‘Good morning, ladies and gentleman. Flight 316 to Kuala Lumpur is now available for boarding through departure gate number two. Please have your boarding passes and passport ready upon arrival.’

‘Shit,’ I said under my breath. ‘Fuck.’

I picked up my handbag, took out my boarding pass and passport and made my way to gate 2. I flashed it to the woman on the desk. She scanned the paperwork like her life depended on it, looked me over, then back to my paperwork before handing it back to me.

‘Have a nice flight,’ she said before she moved on to the next passenger.

I followed the long corridor around some corners and then eventually it changed to something narrower. I knew what that meant. I was no longer inside the airport but between it and the plane, my last chance to turn and run back to Drangan, to the shop, to my usual Thursday, to my woodlice.

I thought of Una; she would be back in the village, probably eating something from Ellie’s bakery. I thought of Mairéad giving someone else a therapy session and felt jealous. I imagined my mother feeding the birds and my father staring at the mole humps, and I wished I was there with them.

I thought about what I would be doing if I were at home. I’d be in the stockroom on a stool with Niall and his clipboard, drinking tea and eating Rich Tea biscuits. He’d be telling me a fact about bugs and then I’d meet Una in the graveyard with my cheese and pickle sandwiches, yoghurt and banana. She’d have her tuna and mayo roll. I’d count the gravestones while she read the headstones and we’d make up who had the most interesting life and why. Then we’d talk about Carmel andShaun did everything butand Una would say how much she hated him but she didn’t really.

An old lady in a pale blue raincoat and saggy black leggings walked slowly in front of me down the gangway. I didn’t overtake. I stayed behind her. Something about it made me feel safe, like driving in the slow lane on a motorway, not that I knew anything about that but it’s what I would have done if I could drive. People overtook me like they were in some sort of race, which didn’t make sense to me because we would all be leaving and arriving at the same time. I kept my eyes on the old lady, on her pale blue coat and saggy leggings.

I stayed behind her the whole way taking small steps, big strides.

ChapterThirty

As it turned out my small steps, big strides took me as far as the first flight attendant before my steps became distorted and my legs turned to jelly. I must have looked like I was going to faint because she reached out her arm and grabbed mine before another one appeared next to me to guide me aside.

I was stood at the entrance; you know, the bit between the end of the tunnel and the actual doors of the plane? That bit. I knew once I stepped inside that would be it, I’d have to sit down and wait and it would be harder to get up and run, especially once they’d shut the doors.

‘Are you OK?’ the stewardess asked, her face full of concern but not a crinkle in sight. She couldn’t have been much older than me but somehow her skin was flawless, not a line or wrinkle or crease anywhere. ‘Can I get you a glass of water?’

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