Two Fridays in April (25 page)

She noticed these things – it made her half embarrassed, half proud when she witnessed one – but she never thought about doing the same herself. She’d feel a bit awkward, approaching perfect strangers. And Ciara and the others might laugh at her.

So what did it mean, remembering all this now? Could it be some sort of a
sign
from him? Was it his way of saying,
Now’s your chance?

But this was different. This was nothing like the things he did. For a start, it wasn’t random: she was being
asked
to do it. And the things he’d done had been small, and simple to do, and this was big, this was huge, and there was nothing simple about it.

But still the doubt scratched at her, the question remained: was Dad asking her to do this incredibly difficult thing? Did he think she was capable of coming face to face with the man who had killed him, accident or not? The notion of meeting the bin-lorry driver filled her with dread, made her churn inside.

But reverse the situation, put Dad in her shoes, and she knew he’d do it: she’d known him well enough to be sure of that. He’d want to help. He’d want to forgive the other man and brighten his day. She knew this to be true, even as she shied away from it.

And maybe that was reason enough to say yes, if she could dig deep enough and find the strength.

She became aware of Theo standing silently by. She met his eye. Neither of them spoke for what seemed to her like an
awfully long time. He was taller than her. His tie was askew. Anyone observing them would probably think they were eyeing each other up for quite a different reason.

I’ll think about it
, she said, and walked off – and in the week that followed, the last week of school before the summer holidays, it was all she thought about. As she sat alone each afternoon in the little back room of the shop, trying and failing to concentrate on her homework, she returned to it again and again.

What would he be like? He drove a bin lorry for a living – what did that make him? She didn’t know anyone with a job like that: all her friends had parents who worked in banks or offices or shops, or ran their own businesses.

He might be fine – Theo seemed OK. But what if he wasn’t?
He’s in a bad way
, Theo had said – what if he turned up drunk to meet her? What if he didn’t want to meet her at all, what if this whole thing was just Theo’s idea? What if his father was horrible, and sneered or swore at her?

At least once a day she decided she couldn’t face it, she wasn’t strong enough. But then she’d think of Dad – and she knew that if she was ever to find peace again she’d have to go through with it.

The following day, the second last of the term, she watched for Theo at the gate again. He spotted her and came straight over.

I’ll meet him in the park near the bus station
, she said. Nobody she knew lived around there.
Just him and you, nobody else
.

Thank you
, he said, with what sounded like real sincerity.
I know this can’t be—

Tomorrow, three o’clock, just inside the main gate
.

We’ll be there
.

Walking away, she was already dreading it, already kicking herself for having agreed to it. She didn’t sleep a wink that night, visualising the scene in several different ways, none of them good.

It’ll be nice to have the holidays
, Daphne said at breakfast, in the too-bright voice that was all she seemed to use now.
Just half a day to go. Any plans?

Una wondered what she’d say if she knew the plan for that afternoon.
Not really
, she replied, spreading peanut butter on toast she didn’t want.
Nothing much
.

There was no sign of him at school. She went with Ciara and a few others to a café for lunch afterwards, but it was all she could do to get halfway through the Caesar salad she had ordered.

You OK?
Ciara murmured, when they were queuing up to pay.
You’re very quiet
.

I’m fine
, Una told her.
I didn’t sleep well, I’m just a bit tired
– because she had to keep this to herself. Ciara wouldn’t understand, she’d try to talk her out of it; and Una suspected that might be easily done.

Want to come around later?
Ciara asked.

Yeah, maybe – I’ll give you a shout
.

Ciara hadn’t been to her house since Dad died; none of her friends had. It wasn’t planned, it had just turned out that way. For the first few weeks, of course, she’d wanted nobody around. She’d gone to school like a robot, hovered at the edges of conversations, tried not to look too pathetic.

After school – before she started returning to the shop – she’d
made her way straight home, no more going downtown with Ciara and the others. They were probably just as well pleased not to have her trailing after them, bringing her misery along with her.

And even when that stage had passed and she began to feel halfway human again, she still found herself reluctant to bring friends home. It wasn’t really Daphne’s fault, she knew that: it was nobody’s fault that they’d ended up living together – it was just the way they’d ended up – but she wished Daphne wouldn’t feel she had to keep pretending that Una meant anything to her. She didn’t want her friends to see that, and pity her.

Three o’clock took forever to arrive. She passed the time drifting in and out of shops, running a hand across rails of clothes she didn’t want, riffling through magazines she had no intention of buying. At five to three she stood in the bus station, stomach gripped tight with tension, mouth dry.

She could just not turn up. School was out for the summer – except for his exams, Theo Quirk had officially left. He wouldn’t be back in the autumn; she might never meet him again. If she did she could just blank him, or say she’d been sick. He’d never know.

She watched the second hand of the big clock above the ticket desk make its jerky way past the numbers. Two minutes to three. She could still walk away, she didn’t have to do this.

And then she thought again of her father, and she knew it had to be done. She left the station and walked the two hundred metres or so to the park gates.

And there they were.

He was small; that was the first surprising thing. He was only about her height, a foot shorter than his son. And he was skinny, not burly like she’d pictured. Just a little man with not much hair in a black jacket and baggy blue jeans, with eyes that were rimmed with red and shadowed beneath, and the same little red scratches on the lower part of his face that Dad used to get when he put a new blade into his razor.

They were awkward, all three of them.
My father Kevin
, Theo said, and the man put out a hand – and after a brief hesitation Una took it, and he clasped it tightly.
This is Una
, Theo told him, as if there could be any doubt about who she was.

Do you want to get a cup of tea?
his father enquired, in a voice that trembled a bit. He seemed to be looking at something over her shoulder, and she said no quickly, still wanting to be anywhere else but there. There was a brief, charged silence before Theo and his father both began to speak, their words crashing into each other until both of them shut up again.

It was awful. She wished she hadn’t come. Nobody knew what to do, nobody had a clue what to say.

And then Theo’s father cleared his throat, and this time he looked her in the eye, and she made herself look back.
I wanted to say thank you
– haltingly, voice still unsteady –
for giving me this chance, to tell you … how sorry I am for what happened, sorrier than I can say. Not a day goes by, not one single day, that I don’t … think about it, and wish I had … called in sick that day, or been put on a different route, or—

He stopped, his face reddening, and for a few appalling seconds Una thought he was going to cry. Instead he turned his head aside and cleared his throat again a couple of times, and
rubbed a hand hard to and fro across his mouth. Una was rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move. Theo stood stock-still, looking off to the side: for all the help he was, he might as well not have been there.

Eventually his father turned back to her, still clearly struggling to compose himself. He drew air in, puffed it out.
I didn’t know your dad
, he said then, his voice more controlled, quieter and lower,
but I know he must have been a good man because of what you’re doing now
. He paused.
I don’t blame you if you hate me, and I’m sure this is the last thing you wanted to do, but you did it
. Another cough.
You must have been brought up right, and that would be down to him. I’m so very sorry I took him away from you, and I thank you with all my heart for letting me tell you that
.

He was sincere; it was obvious from his face and his voice. The accident had damaged him too. He had taken a man’s life without meaning to – what must that have done to him? For the first time, Una found herself feeling a trace of sympathy for him. It had happened, it was terrible, and he felt responsible.

And then she spoke, without thinking about it.
It was my fault
, she said – and they both looked at her in astonishment.

And after that the words just tumbled out, as if she’d been waiting for just that day to say them.
I know he was knocked down, but it was my fault because he was riding a bike he was giving me. He was cycling it home to give it to me, and it was too small for him, that’s why it happened, his foot must have slipped or something, he wasn’t used to it, it wasn’t his own bike, it would never have happened if he’d been on his own bike, he was a brilliant cyclist, it was all my fault—

She broke off, horrified that she’d said them out loud, the
words that had been burning inside her since he’d died. She became aware that tears had started spilling from her eyes and were running down her face. She dug in her pockets but Theo’s father was there before her, shoving a giant hanky into her hands.

She pressed it to her face, not caring how clean it was, and held it there, cried bitterly into it for what felt like ages. Hating that they were witnessing this, but totally unable to do anything about it.

She couldn’t look at them then. She thrust the hanky back and Theo’s father took it.
Anyway
, she said miserably, her eyes on his rather battered brown shoes. Her cheeks stung, her throat throbbed, her eyelashes flicked wetly against her hot skin when she blinked. So much for making him feel better.

Now you mustn’t think like that
, he said quietly.
That’s the last thing you should be thinking. A cat ran out, you know that. It wasn’t your fault, no way was it your fault
.

All she could do, still powerless to look at him, was shake her head silently. The cat he could have handled on his own bike.

Look
, he said then, almost briskly,
we don’t live far from here. Why don’t you come home with us and have your tea? I know my wife would like to meet you too
.

His
wife
? She lifted her head slowly then and blinked at him. She glanced at Theo, whose shoulders were hunched, hands thrust deep into his pockets. The second time she’d cried buckets in his presence – bet he was glad now he’d asked her to meet his dad. Bet he couldn’t wait for this to be over.

No
, she said uncertainly,
I should be
—

We’re not five minutes from here
, Theo’s father said.
Just a cuppa then, just till you feel a bit better. We’d be honoured to do that for you
.

He wasn’t the monster she’d imagined him to be: he was a lot different from that. A cup of tea with him wouldn’t kill her. And she’d said it all, there was nothing more she could say to embarrass herself.

With tears threatening again she gave a quick nod, and he picked up her rucksack and began to walk from the park. She followed silently, falling into step with Theo, grateful that neither of them tried to make conversation with her.

The short walk had an unreal quality about it. What was she doing? She tried to imagine Daphne’s face, and Mo’s, if they knew. They’d be horrified, they’d think she’d lost her mind.

But her father would understand and approve: she was sure of this, and the thought made her feel marginally better. She walked on, past terraced houses that faced a small scrubby green where runny-nosed boys scampered after a football, next to a lone horse that pulled at the grass and ignored them.

The street they turned onto after a minute or two housed a scatter of shops – among them the charity shop where Mo was to start volunteering a few months later. Theo’s father turned up a lane that led off the street and Una halted, feeling for the first time a touch of fear. Where exactly were they taking her?

It’s just around the corner
, Theo said,
we always go in the back way
– and she walked on with him. She’d come this far, she’d take her chances. Not much choice anyway, with Theo’s father carrying her bag – how would she explain its absence to Daphne if she turned tail and ran now?