Friends Like Us (38 page)

She stopped again, unable to speak. ‘Welcome home, Nuala. We are looking forward to many more years of reading again.' Her voice broke, but everyone seemed determined to pretend that she wasn't dying, that the party was not to say goodbye.

There were ‘hear-hears' from the room and teacups were lifted in the direction of Nuala.

The room was full of people who sensed this was a family on the brink of loss. Love was about to change immutably into something else. None of the Sheridan family would ever be the same again, without Nuala. Steph would be motherless, Rachel would not have a grandmother and Joe? How would he be able to live and breathe? Despite the smiles and the chatter, there was the sense of a community bracing itself to help this family through this trauma, the trauma that they were teetering towards.

‘Speech, Nuala, speech!' someone said.

Nuala was getting slowly to her feet, leaning on Steph's arm, Dingle jumping to the ground.

‘Thank you, everyone, thank you for coming. I am not one for making speeches, but it is such a lovely thing to come home from hospital and see the faces of my friends. I feel blessed to know you all. Thank you from Joe and myself for this lovely party and food. You are all so kind. I do want to say something to Joe, here, for being my best friend since the day we met. He has been the most wonderful companion in my life…' Joe was standing there, leaning at the doorway, tears in his eyes. ‘Thank you Joe.'

‘It's not over yet, Nuala,' he said. His throat was dry and his voice croaky, but he was trying to laugh. ‘We've still got a few years left in us.'

‘Of course, we have, Joe,' said Nuala. The room was silent apart from a gulp from Imelda, tears rolling down her face. Around the room, hands were surreptitiously wiping eyes.

‘And my daughter and granddaughter, Stephanie and Rachel. They are the stars in my life.'

‘We should do this annually, Mum,' said Steph. ‘You know, it's the only time you say nice things about us!' Everyone laughed, but Steph and Nuala fixed in each other's gaze. I love you, I'll miss you.

‘And my granddaughter,' said Nuala. ‘She's the cherry on my cake.'

And then Nuala looked over at Joe and, for a moment, the whole room watched as these two people, who had been in love for over four decades looked at each other, as though there was no one else. It sent a shiver down Steph's spine.

‘My Joe,' Nuala managed eventually. ‘My Joe.'

And Joe stood there looking at her, not able to move and it was Imelda who broke the tension.

‘I have my knife,' she said. ‘Cake time?' She began slicing the book and doling out portions onto paper plates.

Steph with the pot, refilling Nuala's cup, who was sitting in the armchair, with Peggy O'Sullivan on one side and Kitty Kenny on the other side. ‘How are you doing, Mam?'

‘It's been a lovely party,' she said. ‘Thanks for all your hard work.'

‘You tired?'

‘A bit,' Nuala admitted, looking like she was ready to fall down, ‘but having everyone here is wonderful.'

‘We'll do it next year, Nuala,' said Peggy.

‘Only if you make your quiche again. You always did make such good pastry, Peggy. I can never get it that light. What's your secret?'

Peggy smiled enigmatically.

‘Go on, I'll bring it to my grave,' said Nuala, winking at Peggy and Kate.

‘Mam!'

Nuala laughed. ‘Allow me, Stephanie. It's all right. The girls here know me by now, don't you?' Peggy and Kitty nodded.

‘Well,' said Peggy, ‘I'll tell you. It's bought. I've been buying it for years!'

‘What?' Kitty looked aghast. ‘But you won that competition last year at the ICA. Your pastry got a first.'

Nuala had begun to laugh. She couldn't stop. ‘I don't believe it. Fraud! All these years we've been eating
bought
pastry.'

‘I know, I know,' Peggy looked a little ashamed. ‘I didn't begin to lie, it just happened. Next thing I know I am famous for my pastry – I couldn't tell everyone then.'

‘But the ICA,' said Kitty, ‘they have rules.'

‘Rules are meant to be broken – and at our age, if we can't break a few of them, what is the point in living?'

A few weeks later, Melissa and her mother were sitting in the lounge of Killiney Castle, pot of tea for two in front of them.

They looked at each other, nervously, Mary clutching the handles of her bag tightly, Melissa trying to concentrate on pouring out the tea from a pot which wasn't designed to pour.

They were waiting to meet Tara Rose, aka Frankie, estranged daughter and sister. Frankie and Mary had spoken on the phone twice and they had arranged to meet, here, now. Mary had asked Melissa to come as moral support and Melissa knew that if she didn't come she would go mad in the wondering and thinking about Frankie. She had to be there.

‘I haven't had a drink in two weeks,' said Mary, suddenly.

‘Really, Mam?' said Melissa, cautiously. A fortnight was definitely the longest Mary had ever managed before, not that she had ever tried particularly hard. ‘That's good.'

Mary nodded.

‘And how are the meetings going? Helpful?'

‘Difficult.'

‘But you will keep going, won't you? You promised.'

‘I promise, Melissa,' said Mary. ‘I promise.'

‘Mam, I know it's not easy, I know it must be difficult. But you've got to do the meetings.'

‘I will,' she said, taking the cup, it rattling on the saucer. Melissa noticed she looked worse, not better. At least, she thought, let's just get this crazy meeting over with. And let's see what this is like. She couldn't imagine that Frankie was going to be normal in anyway. She hoped that this reunion would not just be a harbinger of the usual chaos and doom and set Mary on a backwards trajectory.

Luckily, Melissa was developing her own support group. As well as Eilis and Steph, she now had a therapist on speed-dial. You had to be prepared these days, she decided. No one can do life totally alone, she thought. I need support. And I need to change.

‘So, what did Frankie sound like?' Melissa was trying to be calm. ‘Did she sound nice?'

‘Very nice, yes,' said Mary.

‘And what did she say?' Melissa could feel her hackles rising at the lack of basic information. Keep calm, she told herself. Keep calm. She reminded herself where the door was. Being with her mother was like being on a plane. You always had to know where the emergency exits were. You never knew when you might have to escape. Mary sensed her frustration.

‘She lives in Howth and has a boy and girl. Caleb and Cara. Those are nice names, aren't they?'

‘Yes…?'

‘I… I don't know what else to say, Melissa.'

‘And she won't mind me being here?'

‘You're her sister. She says she's looking forward to meeting you.'

‘
Sister
.' Melissa tired out the word for size. Sister, that magical word. A sister. Her childhood dream. We're quite a pair, thought Melissa. Poor Frankie, what disappointments we're going to be.

Melissa had just put a large shortbread biscuit in her mouth when she realized her mother was standing up to greet a woman in front of them, smiling.

Frankie.

‘Come on,' the stranger was saying, ‘we should have a hug. It's not every day you meet your mother.'

Melissa had never seen that before: her mother, in the embrace of another. She almost said: See Mum, not so difficult after all. But she managed to keep her mouth shut. She really didn't want to frighten Frankie away.

Although Melissa had expected this woman to be a stranger, she looked just like them. Or specifically, just like Mary, except younger and lighter, brighter. This is what Mam would have looked like if she hadn't been so unhappy, if her tragedy hadn't enveloped her, if she hadn't begun drinking so heavily.

‘And you must be Melissa? It's so lovely to meet you.'

They stood there, looking at each other for a moment.

‘Hug?' said Frankie.

They laughed.

‘Why not?'

Frankie may have been the cut of her mother, but there was a warmth and friendliness that Mary might have had if the circumstances had been different. Frankie was relaxed and was now ordering a fresh pot of tea. How could she be so laid-back when all this was so scary for all of them? But she appeared totally together, smiling, making eye contact. She looked happy.

Oh, wait a minute, not so happy. Frankie's eyes were full of tears.

‘Are you okay?' said Melissa.

Frankie was wrestling with a packet of tissues.

‘I knew I would need these… it's just, you know, just a little overwhelming to meet you both. I've waited for forty-five years for this.'

‘It's just seeing you both here… all I've missed out. A mother… and a sister.'

‘Me too,' said Melissa, taking her hand. ‘Me too.' She smiled at Frankie. ‘Your family… your adopted family. Was it happy?' Mary was listening to every word that Frankie said, but there was something in her eyes when Melissa spoke. What was it? Pride?

‘It was normal,' said Frankie. ‘We were normally happy. She's been a wonderful mother to me, but I always wondered, you know, about you.' She spoke to Mary, who was still dabbing at her eyes. ‘And a sister, too! Well, that has been a shock,' she said turning to Melissa. ‘A very nice, amazing, shock. I never imagined it, you. I never thought…'

‘It's a shock for me too,' said Melissa, feeling shy all of a sudden. ‘A good one.' Maybe curveballs which life sometimes lobbed in your direction could be nice ones.

Mary was looking at her long-lost daughter. ‘Your hair,' she said. ‘It's so dark.'

‘For some reason, I'm not going grey – yet. Was it the same for you?'

‘I think so… I don't really remember.'

‘Yes, you didn't go grey for ages, Mum,' said Melissa, prompting her. ‘And then it went grey overnight, practically.' She smiled at Frankie. ‘It's all over for me though, I think. I'm like Gandalf under my hair dye.'

Frankie laughed.

‘My beard's pretty Gandalfy too,' said Melissa.

Frankie laughed again.

‘Tell us about Caleb and Cara,' said Mary. ‘Melissa wants to know all about them. And I do as well,' she said. Melissa realised that her mum was trying to make an effort.

‘I have photos.' Frankie delved in her bag and produced pictures of two lovely-looking children, smiling for the camera. Frankie had brought other photographs, too; of her as a child, of her with her mam and dad, riding a pony, graduating, her wedding day and millions more of Caleb and Cara.

Mary's eyes filled with tears. ‘You've had a wonderful life,' she said.

Frankie laughed. ‘These are just the highlights. I didn't photograph the ebbs. Or is it the flows? And I didn't choose any photos of me with double chins and a big red face. Or my awkward years. Which lasted some decades.'

This is nice, thought Melissa, surprised how much she liked Frankie. She hadn't wanted to; she had secretly wished that she might be a poorer version of herself, but there was no competition. She wanted to get to know her.

‘We should have brought some of our photos, shouldn't we Mam?' she said. Her mother nodded, but Melissa realized that they didn't have those nice family photos of happy moments. She couldn't remember them even owning a camera.

‘So, Melissa, tell me about you? Your mother, I mean, Mary… I mean…' She turned to Mary. ‘Shall I just call you Mary for the moment? Would that be all right?' Their mother nodded. ‘Mary told me you were a journalist and I've been reading your articles online… And you have awards. Wow.'

‘Oh… thanks…' For a moment, Melissa didn't know what to say. Mary had never read a single one of her articles. Nothing she did was ever talked about or praised. It was rather strange to be sitting here with someone who was
interested
in her. It was something she could get used to, very used to indeed. ‘That's really kind of you… actually, I'm not sure if it's what I want to do anymore… for the rest of my life.'

‘Great,' smiled Frankie. ‘A new adventure. Taking charge and making a change is one of the most rewarding things a person can do.'

‘Really?' said Melissa, ‘I feel petrified.'

‘You are meant to feel petrified. Or it wouldn't be life.'

The two women smiled at each other. A sister, thought Melissa. A sister. I have a sister. She had so many questions, she wanted to know so much about Frankie, about her life, her upbringing, her happy childhood. She didn't care about their different lives, she was just excited about this new person. There was much to say. But what about Mary? Should she leave them to get to know each other? She couldn't commandeer the meeting. She was only meant to be here for moral support and had to give Mary and Frankie time together. She couldn't hog her.

‘I've got to go…' she said. ‘It was nice to meet you. Frankie.'

‘Thanks for coming,' said Frankie, ‘I think I'm going to like having a sister. I've always wanted one.'

‘Me too,' said Melissa. ‘I really mean that. Thank you for coming to meet us today. It's been brilliant.' She turned to her mother. ‘You okay, Mam?'

Her mother nodded and tried to smile. She held out her hand and grasped Melissa's. They smiled at each other. The gesture was affectionate, they were going to move on together. There were tears in Mary's eyes.

‘Life is strange, isn't Mam?'

‘And wonderful,' said Mary. ‘I'll walk you out.'

They stood up and walked away from Frankie, and at the door, they turned to each other. ‘Thank you Melissa,' her mother said. ‘I don't know what I would have done without you.'