Page 59 of A Part of Me and You
‘Go!’ I tell her. ‘Walk up to the house now and drive back to me with whatever it is you need to take with you for the afternoon. Rosie is just starting to get ready so you know how long that will take and our excursion isn’t due to take off for another twenty-five minutes. We have time. Don’t change your mind! Go!’
‘Perfect,’ says Shelley. ‘That’s just what I needed to hear. I’m going.’
‘That’s it, Shelley,’ I tell her. ‘I want you to always remember something.’
She pauses. ‘Of course? What is it?’
‘Always make the most of the sunshine, in any way you can,’ I tell her. ‘I want you to promise me that when I leave here, you will always look for the sunshine even in your darkest days. Always look for the rainbow and you’ll find it. Try not to focus on the dark.’
‘I will, I promise,’ whispers Shelley. ‘You’ve made me realize that there is sunshine in every day if we open our eyes and look for it. You’re an inspiration and I’ll never forget you.’
When I’m gone, she means. She doesn’t say it but I hear her finish the sentence in the silence. And then she hangs up the phone before I get a chance to say goodbye. I tilt my head back and up to the sun and I marvel at the warmth on my face, the brightness when I close my eyes. I’m feeling very tired today but I won’t let it beat me. I won’t let my sunshine days be over just yet.
Shelley and Leo, who is taking us out on his private boat, walk down the hill towards me together, chatting harmoniously, and I instantly realize that everyone knows everyone around here. This warmth of Irish village life is what I fell in love with all those years ago – the camaraderie, the community spirit, the knowledge that help and support is only ever a little while away was what I had dreamed of experiencing in my own everyday life. And yes there are the gossips, the whispers and the ‘do-gooders’ but all in all, that security and simplicity of everyone knowing your name is something that always appealed to me over living in a large anonymous city where your neighbour is a stranger.
‘Shelley tells me she’ll be joining us,’ says Leo with a hearty smile. ‘You must be Juliette?’
I shake Leo’s hand and his firm greeting almost takes my arm out of my socket but what else would I expect from a sailor like him. His arms are muscular and strong and his weather-beaten face is open and friendly. I like him instantly.
‘Shelley, I am so freakin’ excited!’ says Rosie and to my delight and surprise, Shelley puts her arm around my daughter. There is a glow around the people here and yes, they have suffered with loss and tragedy like any corner of the world, but I adore how they reach out to each other and to strangers and visitors alike. Seeing that Rosie can be loved by people like Shelley, who has only known her for a few days, reassures me that life for my daughter will indeed go on when I’m no longer here.
‘You will love it,’ says Shelley. ‘This is Rosie, Leo. She’s fallen in love with Killara, I think.’
She’s fallen in love with Shelley, I want to say and I don’t mean that in any way other than that my daughter is mesmerised by Shelley and all they have in common, not to mention her dog and her magnificent home and shop, and how she arranged for us both to go horse-riding yesterday plus how she has been a confidante since finding her on the sand dunes on Saturday.
‘Well, we can’t blame you for that, young lady,’ says Leo and he gives me a wink and a smile. ‘When people come to Killara on holiday, they always come back or else they simply stay, don’t they Shelley?’
Shelley nods in agreement.
‘I came here on holiday and I ended up staying forever,’ says Shelley and a pang of remorse shoots at me like a dart. I wish I had done the same thing, now. I could have had such a beautiful, peaceful life by the sea just like I had always dreamed of and maybe, who knows, things would have worked out differently for me in many ways.
‘I want to keep coming back here forever,’ says Rosie, linking both Shelley and I by the arm. ‘I don’t even want to think about going home. Mum, can we just stay here forever?’
I give her arm a squeeze. Forever is a long time, or so the saying goes but just how long is my forever? Days? Weeks? A few months? I wish so much that we could all press pause right now and make my forever last, to give me a chance of making sure she will be okay, to talk to her and tell her all the things that I need her to know before I go. Focus, I remind myself. Live in the present, not the past. No regrets. Sometimes though, it’s not that easy.
‘So, if you want to follow me further down the pier then, ladies,’ says Leo, ‘I’m going to be your captain, or your skipper if you like, on this very exclusive boat trip, and on today’s excursion you will see, all being well, some of the Atlantic’s finest landmarks and also some of its most exclusive wildlife.’
Rosie gives us both a squeeze now.
‘Excited dot com!’ she says to all three of us. ‘This is going to be unreal!’
‘And so you should be, young lady. Let’s hope the puffins come out to play or maybe even a whale if we’re lucky,’ says Leo and I think my child is about to levitate with excitement.
‘I have a feeling they will,’ says Shelley. ‘They normally like to peep out and say hello to new faces. I have a good feeling about today.’
I am still fluttering inside from when Leo used the word ‘skipper’ but Shelley doesn’t seem to have noticed. Maybe it’s nerves, or maybe it’s just sadness for the man who fathered my child, but I feel a bit sick right now, not to mention these dizzy spells, and if it wasn’t for Rosie’s enthusiasm and the fact that I had made such a big deal of today and this boat trip, I’d gladly sit this one out.
‘Are you okay, Juliette?’ Shelley asks me. ‘You look a bit pale all of a sudden.’
‘Oh don’t tell me you’re seasick already, Mum,’ laughs Rosie, but I can see that she is worried inside. ‘Mum?’
‘I’m fine! Ship ahoy!’ I say to both of them and I put both my thumbs up. Then we each take Leo’s hand in turn and step on the boat, and follow his health and safety instructions as we put on our life jackets. A dull pain kicks in at the back of my head as we set sail but I don’t want to ruin this moment by mentioning it. I’m fine. Maybe if I keep saying those two words out loud, Iwillactually be fine. But I am not of course and I will never be fine. This pain, has come on so strong today and the tiredness is exhausting me, and I’m not fine. I am scared. I am absolutely terrified. Please don’t let this happen to me already. I’m not ready yet. I don’t want to die, please don’t let me die!
‘I hope you’ve more sea-legs than your husband, Shelley,’ says Leo and Shelley rolls her eyes at what is obviously a long running joke to the locals about Matt and his intolerance of all things boat-related.
‘I’m like a child in a sweet shop,’ says Shelley back to him. ‘This is one of my favourite things to do in the whole wide world. Let’s go, Leo! Aye, aye captain!’
And at that we are off and I look behind as we sail out at speed onto the bay and leave Killara and all its colourful brightness in the distance, including Brannigan’s with its green walls and its loaded memories.
