Page 51 of A Part of Me and You
‘I do feel a little bit better, Eliza,’ I admit to her, putting my handbag in the back seat and getting into the front beside her. ‘A good bit better, actually. I didn’t even allow myself to think twice earlier. When I saw your message, something clicked in me. I had the strangest dream, or maybe it wasn’t even a dream, it was more like a feeling that pushed me on, a sign. Can we get signs in our sleep do you think? It’s just that I woke this morning with what felt like a new sense of reassurance that everything was going to be okay? That it was okay to smile a little bit more? I saw Lily and she looked happy and I guess that’s made me feel a bit happier. Is that stupid?’
Eliza steers the car down my driveway and out onto the winding road, taking a right for Killara village which we pass through before we take the main road for Galway City.
‘Of course, it’s not a bit stupid, it’s very real, Shelley,’ she explains to me softly. ‘We get signs when we sleep as that’s when we are at most vulnerable and at ease. We are wide open to receiving messages from loved ones or even simple spiritual guidance, and we wake up with, just like you have, a sense of reassurance to keep going forward. I’m not surprised that you feel better after sleeping if you think you may have had some sort of spiritual communication.’
‘It really has spurred me on,’ I tell her. ‘Not only that, though. I’ve had an eventful few days, I suppose you might say.’
Eliza glances at me and then back to the road.
‘I was wondering what was going on,’ she says. ‘I’ve called at the house and even Merlin wasn’t there and I was beginning to think you’d fled the country? I didn’t want to torture you with phone calls, but then today when I was heading into town I thought I’d left it long enough and would check in.’
I don’t even know where to begin to explain all the wondrous things that have happened to me, so I start with Saturday afternoon, the day of Lily’s birthday and the lady with the blue dress. Eliza doesn’t make a fuss or say ‘I told you so’ when I mention the colour blue, just as she’d predicted. She just smiles and nods her head as I tell her all about Juliette and Rosie, why they’re here and their connection to Matt’s old friend Skipper.
‘Oh Eliza, when the poor woman told me that the name of the man she was hoping to look up was Skipper, I didn’t know how to break it to her. Imagine that feeling that your only child was going to be an orphan? Imagine, what she’s been hanging on to as some sort of happy ending for her daughter has been destroyed. And wee Rosie, gosh she really would break your heart because she has no idea of the huge loss she is about to experience. I really felt something for her the moment I saw her on those sand dunes and then when I found out she was Matt’s friend’s biological daughter, it all made sense.’
Eliza seems to be in deep thought, like she is taking it all in. Eventually she responds.
‘I don’t think you feel that connection to little Rosie because of a man you have never met,’ says Eliza. ‘I’d doubt that’s the case.’
‘You don’t?’ I ask. Gosh. I thought she would be totally convinced that it was so fateful that I was to run into the long-lost daughter of my husband’s deceased friend from yesteryear.
‘No,’ she says. ‘I think there is more to it than that. I think Juliette and Rosie have been sent to you for much more personal reasons. You feel you have been helping them, yes?’
‘Well, I suppose I have,’ I tell her. ‘It was by helping Rosie and listening to her that I first felt something change inside of me. And then when she encouraged me to have lunch on Sunday it was like I was actually tasting food for the first time in ages, and then I saw them together on the beach yesterday and the joy they felt from sharing that time on horseback together. It just moved me so much and I felt so much in my heart for them both.’
‘Exactly,’ says Eliza. ‘We reap what we sow, Shelley. Sometimes when we take the emphasis off our own grief and troubles, and reach out to others, we get so much more from it without realizing it. Your friendship and kindness to those people in their time of need is paying dividends your way. I don’t think it’s anything to do with, what was his name again?’
‘Skipper,’ I remind her. My goodness she is as bad as her son when it comes to names.
‘Skipper … something to do with boats, then, I take it?’
‘Yes, that’s him. He used to sail in here from time to time. Do you remember him?’ I ask her.
‘No, I don’t, sorry,’ says Eliza. ‘I can’t say I remember him at all. Where did you say he was from?’
‘I didn’t,’ I tell her. ‘He’s from Waterford. At least I think that’s where Matt said. They were good friends about … well, I suppose it’s over fifteen years ago now.’
Eliza shakes her head.
‘Hmm, Skipper … it’s not ringing a bell at all.’
We’re driving more slowly now through Killara and the village is bright and bustling with tourists just as it always is at this time of year. I see Betty in the shop dealing with a customer and then further down the village I spot Juliette and Rosie buying an ice cream from a van by the pier and I wave to them but they are too far away to see us.
‘Are you sure you don’t remember him?’ I ask her. ‘Skipper? Ithinkhis real name was Pete? Matt told me all about him one night when he was feeling all sentimental about people who touched his life who have been and gone. He was a sailor and he used to come here and hang out with Matt and his friends in the summer. People like Tom and Sarah and others round his age? No?’
Eliza shakes her head. ‘Definitely not, darling,’ she says to me. ‘Mind you, I can’t keep up with some of the people Matt has been friendly with down the years. His school-friends, his university friends, his work friends from his many different jobs. Did I ever tell you he once wanted to be a postman?’
‘No,’ I laugh. ‘I don’t think he has ever admitted that one to me, ha.’
‘Well, I’m sure this man you are talking about was indeed a friend of Matthew’s but I don’t remember ever meeting him,’ says Eliza. ‘And you say this lady has a child to him and was here to find him?’
I look out onto the bay as we take our time behind a bus full of sightseeing tourists which is deliberately driving slowly to admire the view of the harbour.
‘This was where she met him, yes,’ I sigh. ‘Poor lady. I feel for her so much to be in such a dreadful situation with her little girl.’
But Eliza is on a different wavelength altogether.
‘That’s sad indeed,’ she says. ‘Now, excuse me for changing the subject, but let’s get back to this wonderful big step you have taken to leave this village today! What would you like to do when we get into town, love? How about we start with a nice brunch out in the sunshine and we take it from there? We will have a lovely time, I promise.’
