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‘And I’m Rea Brady.’ Rea offered her hand out and when Stella took it, the warmth of it made her own hand shake. Rea looked down at her and gently touched the dark bruise that peeked its way from the inside of her wrist. Neither of them moved and Stella held her breath. The air around them stilled and then the bang of a door behind them made them both jump, breaking the silence.
Rea looked up at her, and nodded, just once. ‘Looks like more to-do across the way. I can’t keep up with Linda and her goings on.’
‘She’s just looking for love. I keep hoping that the next guy she hooks up with might be the one.’
‘Not so sure that she’s hit the jackpot with that gobshite.’ Rea craned her neck towards a man running down the path with his jacket in his hand. ‘Anyhow, what can I do for you?’
Stella pulled her eyes away from the running man and said, ‘Oh, sorry, of course, I have a parcel for you.’ She held up the package. ‘The postman dropped it in to me earlier.’ When Rea didn’t move towards her to take the parcel, Stella flushed. The woman hadn’t moved from inside the front door frame. It must be true, all the gossip. She never left the house. Stella moved forward, closer to her.
‘Much obliged.’ Rea took it and smiled when she saw what it was. ‘I’ve been waiting for these. It’s the new Claudia Carroll. I love her in Fair City, she’s a right one. But her books are pure heaven!’
‘I’ll look her up,’ Stella said, smiling.
Stella didn’t know if she should just leave, but Rea wasn’t moving from the doorstep either. Then before the silence became awkward, a further commotion began.
‘Go on run, you dirty little fecker,’ Linda’s voice boomed down the street.
‘You’re a fucking nut-job!’ replied the man.
‘Not crazy enough to piss on you, you pervert!’ Linda retorted.
‘What on earth!’ Rea said. ‘Did she just say piss on him?’
‘She did!’ Stella answered, a shocked giggle escaping.
‘It’s called a golden shower!’ he said defiantly. ‘And lots of people do it.’
‘A shower, you say? I’ll give you a shower alright, I’ll put the garden hose on you!’ Linda picked it up and held it towards him.
‘I’d feck off if I were you,’ Rea shouted across to the man. ‘She means business.’
‘Alright ladies,’ Linda shouted over to them, waving as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Stella didn’t wave back and noted that neither did Rea. Linda was a force of nature and she wasn’t sure she could cope with her right now. She often went days without really talking to anyone and she’d forgotten how to do it. She noticed Rea take a step backwards into her house. She started to close the door. But then she changed her mind. Maybe it was nosiness to see what happened next with Linda, or maybe she wanted to chat some more with her. But she was uncomfortable too.
Linda continued to threaten her hose, until her male guest jumped in his car and screeched down Derry Lane, leaving a trail of dust behind him. She lowered the hose with a laugh and walked over to them, shaking her head in dismay. ‘A golden shower he wanted. Bloody pervert. Men! We’ve all been there, ladies, am I right?’
‘No!’ Rea and Stella said at the same time, looking at each other in horror.
‘Does that lovely looking fella of yours not want you to do anything kinky?’ Linda asked Stella, nudging her playfully.
Stella felt awkward as Linda moved in closer to her. She’d forgotten the art of good banter; there was a time when she was a master at it and would have had several good retorts for her.
‘Where did you meet him?’ Rea asked, nodding towards the direction the man had taken off in, saving Stella from answering. She smiled gratefully at the woman.
‘At the bingo.’
For some reason, that made them all laugh.
‘He had a full house and I said to him, sure, you’d better buy me a drink so, out of your winnings. Was delighted when he said yes. And he was throwing drink into me too, but sure now I know why!’
They looked at her in puzzlement.
Linda pretended to crouch and pee, ‘He wanted me to have a full bladder!’
When they stopped laughing again, she continued, ‘He seemed so normal. After last week’s disaster, I wanted normal.’
‘I’m nearly afraid to ask. What happened last week?’ Stella pried.
‘Oh ladies, I’m worn out from all this dating malarkey. I’ve tried it all. Online dating, Tinder, even been down to Nolan’s Supermarket for their singles night. Load of shite that was. Place was crawling with women on the pull. Not a single man in sight. All I want is to meet a nice man. Someone to settle down with. A role model for my Louis. Not too much to ask for, is it?’
Rea and Stella both made suitable sounds of agreement.
‘Anyhow, last week, I swear to God, I met this guy, lovely looking fella. A ride, if ever you saw one. He was wearing a suit and all. Thought that was a good sign. Well, home we went, after having a fish-and-chip supper in Beshoffs. I had high hopes for him, I don’t mind telling you.’
‘What happened?’ Rea asked.
‘Well, we were having a bit of fun on the couch. He says, “Strip”. Well, he didn’t need to ask me twice. “Have you red stilettos?” he asked. I have, says I.’ She leaned in confidentially and they leaned into her too. ‘I got them in Penny’s, were only a fiver, but they cut the feet off me. I stuck them on, thinking it was all a bit kinky.’
Stella stole a glance at Rea. Amusement was all over her face. She was enjoying this as much as Stella.
‘I was delighted to be getting some wear out of the shoes, to be honest. Never a more perfect shoe for a good old ride than them beauties,’ Linda said.
Stella and Rea were both laughing out loud now, but that only seemed to encourage Linda. She was on a roll.
‘There he was, lying starkers on the floor, when I wobbled back in. “Oh yeah, baby,” he says. “Up you go!” He pointed to his chest.’
‘Go away,’ Rea said.
‘Yep. “Walk over my chest in those babies,” he says. “Go on, do it.”’
‘That’s a new one on me,’ Stella said.
‘Well, me too,’ Linda said. ‘But I’m a great woman for saying try anything once. So up I get, and I do my living best to walk across his chest. But lord above, have you ever tried it?’
‘No!’ Rea and Stella said again, both helpless with laughter.
‘Well, ladies, take my word for it, don’t! Arse over tits I fell, hit the floor with such a bang, I’ve still the bruise to show for it.’
‘Ouch,’ Stella said.
Linda leaned in close to them both. ‘I hated showing him the door. But as I told him when he left, next time, pick a date that has better balancing skills than me. I’ve always been a bit of a martyr to my vertigo.’
‘Oh Linda, that’s the best story I’ve ever heard. Thank you. You’ve no idea how much I needed a laugh today,’ Stella said.
‘Ah sure, life without laughter is not worth living at all. Anyhow ladies, better love you and leave you for now. Louis will be home and wanting his tea. Have a goo on me for pizza tonight.’
‘Harry’s is good. I use them a lot,’ Rea said.
‘Right so. By the way, Rea, is my Louis behaving himself doing those odd jobs for you? No cheek I hope.’
Rea paused for a moment, unsure what to say in response. ‘He’s a good boy. But tell him to come over today, would you, the bins need to go out.’
‘Right you are. He’s a pure divil at home, but I wouldn’t switch him for the world. Ladies, I’m off.’ Then she walked back across the street, giving a little wiggle as she went.
‘She’s a real tonic,’ Stella said.
‘Once in a while, she’s gas. But you wouldn’t want to be sitting next to her for hours. She talks about nothing else but sex. It would put years on you,’ Rea said.
‘Was better than the sex education we ever got in school. I’ve learnt more in those ten minutes …’ Stella replied. She noticed that Rea had taken another step back and was clasping the side of her hall table. She had paled and sweat glistened on her upper lip. She was scared! ‘It was nice talking to you, but you go on in now. But you know, if you ever need anything from the shops, I’d happily go for you.’
Rea looked at her in surprise, ‘That’s kind of you.’
Stella was surprised herself that she’d offered. But she liked the woman. ‘It’s no trouble.’
‘Well, I’ll remember that. It’s good for us both to remember that we’ve a neighbour to go to, should we need a helping hand.’ Rea moved closer to the front door again and reached over. She grabbed Stella’s hands between her own. ‘I make a nice cup of tea, if you ever need a chat.’
‘My husband isn’t much of a mixer. He likes to keep himself to himself,’ Stella said, in an even voice, unnerved once more by the gentle touch of this woman. Other than Matt, how long had it been since she experienced a kind, warm touch?
‘I wasn’t asking him, it was you I invited. And he doesn’t need to know what you do when he’s at work, does he?’ Rea smiled.
‘No, I don’t suppose he does.’ Stella looked at Rea, still feeling the soft warmth of the woman’s hands on hers. She felt an urge to throw herself into the older woman’s arms. But before she got the chance to make a fool of herself by doing that, Louis kicked a stone up the drive.
‘Ma said you wanted me.’
Chapter 9 (#ulink_f57ecdeb-d60b-5a91-baef-e8d1bcd146ed)
SKYE
Rathmines, Dublin, 2000
‘I hate you both. It’s not fair!’
My attitude to our dream holiday fund going on replacing Dad’s car was not my finest hour.
I’m ashamed to say that I was reacting with true teenage belligerence and I did nothing to ease the guilt of my parents, who hated to disappoint us.
It wasn’t their fault our car had decided to give up on life and we had to cancel the holiday, and I knew it, but even so, I just couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to make them feel pain like I was feeling. I was crippled with disappointment. And if I was honest, I felt mortification knowing that all my boasts in school about the holiday would now be jeered at. When would I learn to keep my big mouth shut?
My selfish wish was granted when they both winced in pain at my words. But the thing was, it didn’t help in the slightest. I still felt crap, and knowing that they did too didn’t change that. Now, not only was I miserable but guilt flooded me. Even so, I didn’t do anything to make them feel better, though. I stormed out, slamming the door behind me for good measure.
And so ended our first Dream Holiday Fund. We used the savings to buy a new family car, or at least a new car to us. It took me a while to stop doing a big dramatic sigh every time I squeezed my legs into the back seat. I hated that car and now I only have to see a green Ford focus to bring me down.
‘We went for a 1.2L engine,’ Dad told us. ‘That way the tax is half what it used to be for the old car. And the savings from that will go straight into our new holiday fund, I promise.’
It was hard staying annoyed when you heard statements like that. Dad looked so earnest and Eli gave me a look that spoke volumes, along the lines of ‘Cop on Skye, give the folks a break.’
‘We’ll be no length filling that jar again. As I always say, watch the pennies …’ Mam said.
And so, I chimed in, along with Eli and Dad, saying, ‘and the pounds will take care of themselves.’
‘We’ll get to paradise yet, love, I promise,’ Mam said, giving my arm a squeeze, and I believed her. This was just a little hiccup.
We fell into our familiar rhythm of saving. Dad got a promotion and Mam started to work in the local Supervalu. Eli and I continued doing our part-time jobs and we were back to being a family of thriftiness.
It was around this time that Mam decided she wanted to write a book. She went to see one of her favourite authors, Maeve Binchy, give a talk in our local library and came home all fired up.
Dad said, ‘Sure, everyone has at least one book inside of them.’
Things got a bit weird after that at home. Mam took to saying things like ‘plot twist!’ whenever something went wrong. She thought she was hilarious and, in fairness, we usually did laugh in response. Dad bought her a journal and she was never without it. Eli and I couldn’t open our mouths without her scribbling something into it.
‘That’s gold, pure gold,’ she’d mutter, scribbling away, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
‘What did we say?’ Eli would ask.
‘That book better not be about me,’ I declared and she’d just look enigmatic. ‘You’ll just have to wait and see.’
One day, when she wasn’t looking, I stole a glance inside her journal. I couldn’t take any chances. I mean, I didn’t really think she had a cat’s hell in chance of ever getting published, but imagine if she did and the main character was called Skye and she wasn’t very nice.
I simply had to see what she was writing, why she was being so secretive? And if there was one thing about me that I didn’t like, well, she’d better watch out, because … hang on! What on earth was all this? I couldn’t see any semblance of a novel in her journal. It was full of shopping lists, the latest entry being Buy soap for John! And reminders to do things like, ring Paula. And the cheek of Mam, one even said, Skye’s hair is looking scraggy, book hair appointment.
As I said to Dad and Eli later that night, ‘That book that you kept saying was inside of Mam, well it’s sure doing a bad job of showing itself!’
‘Say nothing,’ Dad replied, when we’d all calmed down from laughing. ‘Your mother is enjoying exploring her creative side. You never know, maybe she’ll surprise us all one day.’
‘Plot twist, Mam gets a book deal!’ Eli said and we were off again. I swear I thought Dad was going to have a heart attack, he was laughing so much.
Another rainy summer in Ireland passed by and then, a quite warm Christmas, as it happens. And fourteen months after our second attempt at the Dream Holiday Fund began, Dad declared we had saved enough. We attempted to do another mad dance around the table, but it didn’t feel the same as the last time. But we did debate long and hard as to where Paradise would be for the Madden’s this time.
I don’t know why, but all of a sudden, Florida no longer held a lure for us. You see, Mam’s manager in Supervalu was forever boasting about all the cruising she and her husband had done. And over dinner most evenings, Mam would recount the stories to us and we would all hang onto her every word about midnight chocolate buffets and swimming pools with outdoor cinemas. It sounded lush.
‘So are we saying now that we should go for a cruise?’ Mam asked, her face alight with excitement. I liked seeing her look so happy.
‘You had me at the chocolate buffet,’ Dad said and Eli and I nodded in agreement. A cruise sounded exotic and grown up. And at almost sixteen, I wanted to be both of those. Plus, nobody in school had ever been on a cruise. Take that, Faye Larkin!
The day I finished my last junior cert exam, as we all gorged on big bowls of ice-cream sundaes that Mam made in celebration, she said, ‘I wonder how many of these boys we could put away in that free buffet they have?’
‘I’d eat ten of these without even thinking,’ Eli retorted. At eighteen, he was lean, tall and had an appetite that never was satisfied. Yep, he wasn’t lying. With ease he’d do that.
‘Well, let’s put that boast to the test. Get me the laptop there, Skye, and we’ll book ourselves a cruise.’
‘For real?’ I said, completely floored.
‘For real,’ Mam replied gently.
Eli and I didn’t celebrate until the moment that Dad actually paid the deposit. When he hit send on the words, Confirm Payment, we both held our breath. And then, all of sudden, it felt absolute. Dad started to sing ‘We Are Sailing’ by Rod Stewart and even though Eli and I didn’t know the words, we all joined in as best we could. I prefer to make my own words up anyhow. Mam started to wear scarves jauntily tied around her neck, or over her head, with big dark sunglasses. She told us she was perfecting her ‘cruise lounge wear’ and we took delight in jeering at her. But in my bedroom, when nobody was around, I tried on every single outfit I owned, planning my own cruise wardrobe.
I’d never had a boyfriend and I daydreamed that maybe my first one would be someone foreign and exotic. Maybe the son of a rich tycoon. With his own helicopter or private jet. That would be so cool. He’d be called Brad and he’d fall in love with me instantly. Yes, someone like Brad would certainly cruise a lot. Faye Larkin would die, she’d be so jealous.
