‘Roisin, this is my cousin Cain. He is Peter Murphy’s son,’ she says, but she doesn’t have to explain. The man in front of me is about forty-five years old, he has dark hair and the most beautiful eyes, which are so familiar to those I’ve looked into for the past year. He is the image of Aidan. He is the cousin Aidan never knew he ever had. He is Mabel’s stepson she never knew about. I can barely breathe.
‘Oh Mabel!’ I whisper, closing my eyes tightly and feeling the weight of so many lost years plunge down on my shoulders as Cain welcomes me into a warm embrace. ‘You should have known this. You really should have known. You would only have loved him even more.’
35.
Iwake up on the morning of Mabel’s birthday around six, which is a lot earlier than usual, and make my way downstairs to the kitchen where I sit in the darkness, a cup of coffee in hand and the sound of silence in my ears as I plan for the day ahead. The cake, just as I’d promised myself, is covered with eighty tiny candles. When we baked it last night, Ben and I took our time to really reflect on what has been a wonderful five years here in Ballybray.
‘I wonder if the people who live here next will have as much fun as we have,’ he asked me, and the way his eyes lit up reminded me that moving on now that Mabel’s messages are over is probably for the best. I just can’t imagine us here any longer, and I’ve already begun to pack up as I wait for those bidding on the cottage to reach their final offer.
It comes in before nine, when Ben and I are leaving the house for school, and when the estate agent calls me it’s like everything is falling into place so perfectly that I’ve no doubt the lady in heaven is guiding me as always.
‘Congratulations,’ he tells me when he breaks the news that I’ve reached the asking price and a few quid more, which will come in handy if I ever find the right place to move to next. I can rent in the meantime, but for now this is a step in the right direction.
I feel a rush of adrenaline wash through me and as always I feel the urge to call Aidan as he is always the first person I want to break good news to. It’s his big night tonight, and I know when he wakes up he’ll have an action-packed day ahead, but I can’t resist texting him to tell him my news and I also send him a photo of Mabel’s cake, which I plan to give out to customers at Truly Vintage today in her memory.
He responds immediately, which tells me he isn’t sleeping like he should be.
‘Can’t sleep, too nervous and excited for my freedom,’ he replies. ‘But that’s amazing news, Roisin. Huge congrats! I’m so thrilled it’s all working out. It’s all looking like it’s meant to be.’
I walk down the path of the cottage on Teapot Row and feel a wave of nostalgia sweep over me when I see the twoFor Salesigns stand side by side in the two gardens where so many memories were made, not only in my time here but also in the years before.
I think of Mabel taking a young Aidan out through the yellow door to get ice cream on that fateful evening, not knowing when they returned his whole future would comecrashing down. I think of his parents leaving in the heat of an argument around that same time, getting into their car with tempers high not knowing that they’d never come back to pick up their son again. I think of Peter, Mabel’s husband, and his ageing parents as they got the news just hours later. I think of Aidan’s teenage years, and how he grew up to be such a treasure to them all as he wore his heart on his sleeve and strived to be the best he could be, but all the time wanting to capture what he once had before that dreadful night so many years ago.
And then I think of Mabel and Peter’s return here to live out their twilight years, of how Aidan moved away to the city they left behind, and of Peter’s passing and then Mabel’s more recently, taking all their secrets with them.
Now, it’s time for Ben and me to move on, and who knows what’s around the corner for the people who will live here next?
I take Ben’s hand on the way to school, which he casually slips out of my grip as discreetly as he can without wanting to offend, and I realize how much he too has grown up in the years spent here in Ballybray. He’s no longer the fragile, frightened little six-year-old boy who clung to me. Thanks to Mabel and this wonderful community he spent his primary years with, he is now a confident footballer, a keen photographer, a flamboyant horse rider, a lover of trivia and geography, and even a skilled artist when he takes the time to doodle or paint, which I like to believe he gets from me.
And I see Jude in him sometimes too, as much as it pains me to admit it. He has his father’s agility in a football game, and a strong, fine figure that will grow to attract a lot of attention when he’s older. With my guidance, and with all he learned from Mabel, I know he’ll use his talents and his traits in the most positive way possible.
‘We’re quite a team,’ I say to him as we walk to school, a new spring in our step despite the light drizzle of rain that will never dampen our spirits. We are two people who now know exactly where we are going in life and, as long as Ben feels safe and happy, I know I’m doing the right thing.
‘No kisses, Mum, I mean it,’ he tells me when we get to the school gates. I don’t normally walk him to school these days, but feel a need to do so today and, as it’s on my way to the cemetery where I want to lay the flowers I have in my carrier bag, it makes all the more sense to see him off properly this morning.
‘You’ll soon be taller than me,’ I say, wanting to ruffle his hair but knowing I’d better not or he’d never forgive me. ‘OK, I’d better get going. I love you, Ben.’
‘I love you too, Mum,’ he whispers, looking around to make sure no one is watching him, and then just like he can’t help it or maybe it’s because deep down he doesn’t care if he’s seen, he wraps his arms around my waist and gives me a tight, albeit very quick, hug. I think he knows I need it today more than ever.
I watch him as he weaves his way through the playground, high fiving a younger pupil on his way past, and I know that today is going to be a sad day but a good day.
I can feel it in my bones.
Mabel’s grave is a place I’ve both avoided and longed for the courage to spend time at, so it feels poignant and important that I come here on her eightieth birthday to pay my respects to the woman who has very much shaped my life.
The headstone that reads her name in gold text alongside Peter’s stands proud and tall in black marble, and as I sit sideways on the ledge that frames the plot where they lie, I can’t help but regret how I didn’t have the strength to come here a lot sooner.
I’ve always found cemeteries to be upsetting places, although I understand fully that others find it to be a comfort to sit by the grave of a loved one, and as I sit here now where Mabel was laid to rest, I find some of my grief wavering to make way for a peaceful, calming feeling I wasn’t expecting.
Two matching white porcelain angels sit in each corner across from me and I just know they are from Aidan as I remember him coming here quite a lot when he was in Ballybray. He did the rounds of his parents’ grave, his grandparents, and of course his Uncle Peter and Aunt Mabel, and every time he returned I could tell he had been crying. I can’t imagine how overwhelming it must feel for him as anonly child to know the only place you can go to visit your whole family is under the clay in a place of rest.
I check the time on my phone. It’s just gone 9.15 a.m. here in Ireland so with any luck Aidan will have fallen asleep after our brief messaging earlier and will have a few hours more before he has to get up and get ready for his working day and the events that will follow at the Fitzwilliam Hotel in New York tonight.
‘He’s so excited,’ I say out loud, not knowing why I feel the need to, but I’m beginning to feel closer to Mabel by being here. ‘It means so much to him, especially when he realized the ceremony fell on your birthday. I just know you’ll be watching over him, so proud of him as always. He’s finally made the decision he has longed to do for years.’
I run my hands through the soil under which Mabel lies and hope that she’s also proud of me for the decisions I’ve made in the past few days.
She wanted us both to celebrate her birthday today, and while Aidan has his very important event tonight, I can only ask for her blessing as to how I plan to celebrate the wonder of the life she lived and the wisdom she gave me in my very own way.
