So this time, through my sodden teary eyes, I manage to respond properly just like I should have done when Bernie first messaged months ago on my return from New York.
Maybe it’s because Mabel’s birthday is just around the corner, maybe it’s because she asked us both to do something special, and maybe it’s because I’m secretly hoping for a reason to speak to Aidan again, but this time I don’t hesitate. I press dial on the number I received the message from and Bernie answers almost straight away.
‘Bernie?’ I say, as soon as the other woman says hello.
‘Roisin?’ she asks timidly. ‘Is that you?’
I hear the tremble in her voice and I grip the phone, pacing the floor as I wait to hear what it is she wants to tell me.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ I confirm, closing my eyes and biting my lip as my heart races with anticipation. ‘I was with Aidan Murphy in your bar back in spring and I left my number. I’ve a feeling there’s something you might know about his father and his uncle from their time in Breena – I’m guessing it could have been around forty-five years ago?’
‘I remember you,’ says the lady who I assume was the one I spoke to in the Ladies of Sullivan’s Bar that day. ‘I was hoping you’d get in touch. Can you talk for a while? I think it’s time.’
I look at the clock, thankful that Ben is sleeping soundly so I can deal with this without interruption.
‘I can, yes,’ I tell her, marvelling at her timing and how she has tried to connect again on the day of Aidan’s departure and of Mabel’s final message. ‘I can talk.’
‘I’m really sorry, Camille, but is there any chance I could have the day off?’ I say to my boss and good friend the following morning just after I get Ben out to school. ‘I’ll explain all when I can, but believe me this is so, so important.’
‘Of course!’ says Camille, as understanding as ever of my topsy-turvy life lately. She’s listened to me cry, she’s wiped away my tears, and she’s tried her best to steer me when I lost my way, but she was right that no one else can do it for me, only myself, and the time for that is now. I have a chance today, a real chance to make a difference to so many lives and I want to take the bull by the horns.
I jump in the pick-up and, as I drive the two and a half hour journey to Breena, back to the village where Peter and Danny Murphy spent so many carefree days, and to the place where Aidan and I first kissed and told each other of our true feelings, I have that urgent feeling of wanting to be there already to see proof of what I’ve been told before I break the news to Aidan.
This is Peter and Danny Murphy’s secret that was never told. This was a life they lived long before Mabel and long before Aidan and his mum. This was a secret that they held against each other to the end of their days, and one that Mabel never learned of but wanted us to find out so badly. This is what threatened to come out on the night of the tragic accident – perhaps it did come out, but Aidan and Mabel had left to get ice cream and weren’t there to hear it. This is the secret Peter Murphy held from Mabel toprotect her heart from knowing he already had the only thing he could never have with her.
The drive soothes me in so many ways, much more than I could have imagined. I hear Aidan’s voice as I cruise along open coastal roads, I feel his hand on my knee as I listen to the songs we once shared as I inhale the memories of so many wonderful days and nights together.
But this mission is not about me and I don’t even know yet if it’s even about Aidan, but there was urgency in Bernie Sullivan’s voice that made me want to get to Breena as soon as I could. I think of Aidan, lying in bed now in New York during the small hours after his flight, oblivious to my mission and what it might bring his way.
The winding roads remind me of my life, with their mixture of steep curves, sharp bends and long open roads that go on for miles and miles before coming to an abrupt stop at a junction, and the necessity to decide whether to take a right or a left or turn back and relive it all over again.
I crank up the radio, I sing along to the songs that remind me of happier times, and I decide once and for all what I want in life after this journey today is made. I want the smooth open road for a change, that doesn’t come to an abrupt stop. I want the curves that bring unexpected excitement and joy, and I want the sharp bends that teach me lessons, whether they be to slow down or to take caution. I realize that everything that has come my way so far on my journey over forty years has made me the person I amtoday and, as painful as it may have been, there’s no point in looking back and wishing to change a thing.
As Mabel said, this is life – right now. There’s no point waiting on the big moment or the big reveal or the hero to save the day. You have to accept that every bump and bruise you feel is there to teach you a lesson, and by God I’ve learned my lessons lately and I’d learned a lot before I ever set foot in Ballybray.
I pass the picnic spot where Aidan and I thought we’d spotted the happy family, and I laugh out loud at the very idea of perfection in life. We’re all flawed, we’ve all got secrets, we’ve all got little things we hide behind, that mask our creases and edges that we don’t want to show in public. And so what if we do? It’s what makes us human and it’s what makes us real.
I park the car down by the harbour as before and, as I walk along the cobbled streets, I wish I’d worn flat shoes, but a quick glance in a shop front window tells me I’m starting to look a bit like my old self again. I still need to gain some weight, I could be doing with eating and sleeping a bit more, but all in all I’m feeling stronger and more purposeful, and a lot of that is to do with why I’ve been asked to come here today.
I’ve no idea what lies ahead as I do my best to remember my bearings in this beautiful place where Aidan and I shared our first dinner alone, where we ate ice cream by the pier, and where we finally admitted our true feelings. I try notto get sentimental as I remember it all, knowing that I’m here today not for myself but to reveal the truth that was left untold to Mabel – a truth that will hopefully now be passed on to the last Murphy boy, who has no idea any of this is even happening yet.
‘Roisin!’
I’m greeted outside the bar by Bernie, who I feel by now is like an old friend after having chatted to her for so long the night before, when I told her all about my connection to Mabel and Aidan, and to how Mabel asked us to come here to retrace Aidan’s father’s footsteps from all those years ago.
She was too young to remember them of course, but she shared stories from her ailing aunt Carol, whose terminal illness means she can’t be here to meet me today, but who has sent her blessings to me through Bernie and her trust that I will be the keeper of this information before telling Aidan in a way that only I can.
We go inside, not into the restaurant like before, but through a different door that leads to a stairwell, and I follow Bernie upstairs as she chats non-stop along the way, asking me about the weather in Ballybray and how I found the journey and if I’d any bother with finding a parking space when I got to Breena, as it’s always been a problem with visitors.
She turns the key on the lock of what looks like the front door to a private apartment and calls out to say we have arrived. I feel jittery inside and wish now that Aidan hadbeen here for the reveal of this long kept secret, but in a way I’m glad that I can act as an intermediary when it comes to telling him all about it.
I will call him and tell him, I’ve already decided, and after that what he does with the information is entirely up to him. I will call him and explain how I initially wanted to protect him from any bad or sad news, whatever it might have been, when I first bumped into Bernie in the bathroom of Sullivan’s back in March.
It’s a secret I have held for far too long within me, for so many reasons I can no longer explain, but I’ve always known from the moment I saw Bernie look at us from behind the bar that day that there was so much more to Mabel sending us to Breena than we could ever have imagined.
And when I step inside the plush sitting room of the apartment above Sullivan’s Bar I have so many questions as to why Danny and then Peter Murphy would have kept this secret from Mabel, even to his dying day.
I stand there, holding Bernie’s arm to steady myself, and I burst into uncontrollable tears.
