‘That’s deep, for a Sunday morning,’ he says, staring out to sea. ‘We’re not losing anything, Ro, how many times do I have to tell you? In fact it’s the opposite. I’m putting plans in place. Let’s just try and enjoy our last few precious moments.’
I only wish I could enjoy them and relax for our last afternoon together but I can’t shake off this feeling of impending doom. Aidan’s bags are packed, his flight is booked for this evening, and a long era of at least a few months apart looms ahead, plus he’s been insanely quiet for the past few days, constantly on his phone and hating to be interrupted.
‘I know it’s not goodbye for ever, but I’m so emotional at any sort of farewell, I have to warn you,’ I tell him witha hint of laughter. ‘I’ll be a blubbering mess before the day is out, all snot and tears at the airport and wailing like a banshee.’
Ben is busy battling with a huge kite on the beach in front of us with Gino, who is claiming to be an expert on kite aviation, while Aidan and I lounge on a tartan rug beside our favourite sand dune, the perfect little cove of comfort where we’re shielded from the sporadic breeze and exposed enough to catch a glimmer of the sun in the sky, which can’t seem to make its mind up.
It’s a pleasant day as far as Irish summers go, but my heart is weeping with every second, every minute, and every hour that ticks by, knowing that inevitably I’m going to have to watch Aidan walk away to a life that I know very little about – a life where he will try and pack up his commitments to a family business which has entwined him with Rachel and her overbearing and very rich father.
‘Ah, you’d make a very sexy banshee. Is there such a thing as a sexy banshee?’ he jokes, showing a glimmer of his happier side, while gently pushing my hair off my face when the breeze catches it. ‘Believe me, if I could sort everything out from here I would, but I’ve got years and years of my past life to get into gear, not to mention tackling the present and future commitments of work. It will take time, Roisin, but we’ll get there, I promise.’
I want to ask him how long it will take for us to ‘get there’ wherever that even is, but at the same time I knowhe doesn’t need that pressure, so instead I try and assure myself that this is only a temporary measure and one for the greater good, even though we haven’t exactly worked out what that greater good might be as yet.
Will we be together properly? Will we live here in Ballybray? Will Aidan work in property again, or will he start something new? Will he really be able to leave New York behind to live at a snail’s pace in rural Ireland?
‘I wish I could press forward and make it all happen faster,’ I whisper, as a gnawing sensation of underlying fear starts to nip at me inside. I’m afraid of being here without him and without Mabel, as it’s all I’ve ever known. I’m afraid of him being convinced to stay in New York for work commitments and that once they get him back stateside they won’t want to let him go again. But most of all, I’m afraid that when he gets there Rachel might plead with him to give their marriage another chance and start all over again with her.
‘You’re overthinking again, I just know you are,’ says Aidan, leaning back now on the sand. ‘Please stop. Rachel has already moved on quite substantially from our marriage, so you’ve no worries about her trying to change my mind if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘What do you mean she’s moved on? Has she found someone new?’
He shrugs his shoulders.
‘Leave it, Roisin, please! I’m not sure about her personallife in that way, but let’s just say she’s been enjoying herself on the social scene and the word is out, much to her father’s annoyance,’ he explains. ‘Bruce Bowen has a huge wallet and a big influence on the media, so he’s kept it quiet for now, but it’s only a matter of time.’
I shudder to think of how different Aidan’s life has been in a fast-moving city like New York, caught up in the rat race of meetings, conference calls, buying and selling for millions of dollars, work hard, play hard, don’t have time to look over your shoulder lifestyle. Here in Ballybray, we tend to paddle along at a duck’s pace of living, working in a slower, much more community-led environment where everyone knows your name, and yes, sometimes they know your business too.
‘You know, it’s quite ironic how it was Mabel and Peter’s influence that took me away from here to New York almost fifteen years ago,’ ponders Aidan as he watches the boys battle with their kite, slipping and sliding in the sand, ‘and now it’s Mabel who has brought me home again. It’s like my life has come full circle. It’s so strange. I’m back to the beginning.’
‘You don’t mean that in a bad way, do you?’
He gets up and brushes the sand off his jeans without answering, leaving a lump of worry in the pit of my stomach. There’s no doubt about it, Aidan’s mood has been sliding backwards the past few days and it’s really got me wondering if he’s having second thoughts about all the time we’ve spent together.
I blink back tears, thinking of the vast stretch of the Atlantic Ocean that will soon lie between us and the immensity of it almost makes me lose my breath. I imagine him seeing Rachel again after all this time, and the old saying of how absence makes the heart grow fonder plays havoc with my heartstrings at the notion they might want to get back together.
‘Aidan, just promise me,’ I whisper to his back as he stands now against the light summer breeze. ‘Please just promise me that if you get there and decide you’d rather try and fix your life in New York and with Rachel, please don’t let anything to do with me hold you—’
‘Stop, Roisin, please,’ he says without looking back at me. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’m dreading what I have ahead of me, so stop with the pressure. Just let me do what I have to do!’
‘OK,’ I wince, crawling back into my shell again.
I don’t mean to add to his pressure, but I’ve been trying to envisage how I’m going to readjust without Aidan, not just me but Ben, as we once again make changes in our own minds and in our practical daily ways to make life normal.
Just as we were letting Mabel’s death sink in, Aidan came along and helped us heal together. For eight months now the three of us have been swept along in a bubble of laughter, fun and contentment like I’ve never known, but now that bubble is about to burst, if only temporarily, the idea of not having him around is almost too much to bear.
I’ve said so many goodbyes in my life I should be used to them by now, I know that. I’ve packed up my life so many times ever since I was a young teenager, sometimes running literally for my life and sometimes jumping from the frying pan into the fire, but this is different. This is a dread like I’ve never felt before because now that I’ve finally felt the love I’ve always longed for, the fear of letting it go, and of him possibly never coming back, is just so overwhelming.
I also dread to think of how Aidan will soon sample the rollercoaster of emotions I experienced when I had to pack up my life after Jude died when he goes back to do the same with the life he shared with Rachel. I remember how the finality of it all came at me like a freight train. I’d tried so hard to put my feelings on pause that when the day came to put all my belongings into bags and pack everything up it was like carving shapes with a dagger on my heart.
I’d tried to shift my brain into autopilot that day, but no matter how angry I was at Jude and no matter how much he’d bullied and intimidated me for years, packing up family photos showing some of our happier times together was still a killer blow to the soul.
I packed up memories of a caravan holiday where we’d both swelled with joy when Ben jumped into the swimming pool all by himself for the first time. I packed up the day of Jude’s only brother’s wedding in our very early years together, when to me the whole world had ceased to exist and it was just the two of us, so happy and in love.
And as I cried sore while I packed up some of these more pleasant memories, a juggernaut of flashbacks of more difficult times also raced towards me – I packed up a dress I wore to a surprise birthday lunch I’d planned with his family during which he’d pinned me up against the wall when out of sight as everyone laughed and chatted just feet away, warning me to never,everplan anything behind his back like that again; I packed away the cups I used when my neighbour popped by for a coffee unannounced and he came home to find us chatting in the kitchen, after which I was made to suffer for days and was quizzed on every conversation we covered in case I had mentioned him; I packed away the scarf I was wearing to Ben’s first parent–teacher meeting at school where I’d casually mentioned in conversation how we were considering a family holiday, and Jude beat me black and blue afterwards for telling anyone our business.
I packed up the ability ever to let my guard down and the willingness to believe someone when they told me they loved me for ever. I told myself that when it came to trust and love outside of the unconditional love I had for my son, I’d locked up that chance for good and thrown away the key.
As I sit here now with Aidan on the beach in Dunfanaghy, I compare the lightness I feel when I’m with him to the dread and fear I had inside when I was married to Jude. I feel like I’m looking back at a totally different person, and I can only hope that Aidan feels liberated and free whenit’s his turn to pack up and move on from a toxic existence in America.
