I let out a deep sigh. Without Mabel to pushmeinto things, I realize how little I’d have done around had she not always been in my ear. I was at my lowest ebb when she came into my life, and now she’s gone, I worry I might be sliding down that same slippery slope already. I can feel it in the air. It’s a sense of fear that is so overwhelming, like a tidal wave approaching from which I can’t escape. It’s hopelessness, it’s loneliness, it’s a huge cloud, and it’s coming to get me fast.
I go inside and boil the kettle, then lean against the worktop and let the tears flow, but unlike the past few days when I’ve cried silently when Ben is around, this time I can’t help but sob from the tips of my toes for her loss. I throw my head back and let it all out, all the frustration of what brought me here in the first place and how far I’ve come since then with her help. I’m so frightened again and I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.
‘There’s a man in Mabel’s house, Mum! I swear there is! He’s in the kitchen! He knocked the window at me!’
I jump and wipe my tears, not knowing if I’m more in shock at Ben’s revelation or the fact that he has finally uttered a few words to me at last.
‘He looked cross!’ he says, out of breath and full of drama. ‘Maybe it’s the new neighbour? Is he going to sleep in Mabel’s bed? Oh Mum, I hope he isn’t angry at me! I left the carrot and scarf for the snowman over there on the table!’
I dab my eyes with the back of my sleeve and feel my heart rate slow down when I realize that it’s probably Aidanback again and not some intruder or some keen new occupants looking around. Or is it? Just in case, I race to the front door and look outside, ignoring how my face must look, like a swollen, puffy mess.
Aidan’s car is there, just as I’d suspected, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else parked outside.
‘It’s fine, honey,’ I tell Ben, who stands alongside me, looking outside. ‘That’s Aidan, Mabel’s nephew. He’s looking after all of Mabel’s things and he doesn’t realize who you are. It’s OK. It’s all OK. Go finish your snowman, don’t worry.’
‘Aidan Murphy?’ says Ben, wide-eyed. ‘From New York City? Can I meet him, Mum? Can I?’
‘Not right now,’ I say, hushing him gently. ‘In fact, maybe we should just build a new snowman in our own garden, is that OK?’
He looks up at me, puzzled. It seems that even Ben couldn’t escape from Mabel’s tales of her wonderful nephew, but unlike how I’d chosen to imagine him with my cynical hat on, Ben had shared Mabel’s view that Aidan was some sort of real life mysterious superhero.
I feel my young son’s shoulders relax when I pull him in to me for a quick hug and the warmth of his touch soothes me instantly. A glimpse of sunshine peeps out from behind a fluffy white cloud above us, showing that maybe a break from the bleak weather might be just around the corner. Maybe if the weather changes for the better, our moods willtoo. I pray fervently for something to lift us from this sense of despair.
‘I just miss her,’ says Ben when we finally let go. He looks upwards, blows a kiss towards the sky and then goes upstairs to his room, and I know I probably won’t see him or hear from him again until at least lunchtime, the snowman abandoned for now.
‘I know you miss her, honey,’ I whisper after him. ‘I do too.’
She told him to do that, I remember with a smile. She told him to blow her a kiss up to the sky and that she’d catch it every time. I want to hold on to those simple connections, but since she died, so far every day is like a scene fromGroundhog Day. Every day is a drag.
Ben will go back to school on Monday and I need to get back to work to keep food on the table, but I don’t know if I can. I need Mabel. Oh God, I need Mabel.
I need to hear what she has to say. I need to hear her message.
‘Ben!’ I shout to my son, who probably has headphones on by now and isn’t able to hear what I have to say. ‘I’m just popping next door quickly. I won’t be long!’
I race to the kitchen, pull open the second drawer to find the envelope that Aidan left with me yesterday, grab it and make my way next door to him. I slip and slide my way up my own pathway, race through mine and then Mabel’s gate, negotiate her path, and then I knock on Mabel’s yellow doorwith a sense of urgency as adrenaline pumps through me now at the thought of hearing her voice again.
‘Roisin!’ says Aidan, as if he wasn’t quite expecting to see me again. ‘I’ve told you I—’
He’s wearing a white T-shirt which is splattered with paint, and is holding an old rag in his hand. I’ve obviously interrupted a man at work.
‘You frightened my son!’ I tell him, unable to let that one go before I get down to business. ‘Do you always have to be so cold and arrogant? We were so close to Mabel, closer than you’ll ever understand, so how dare you be so rude to him when he’s struggling so badly to let her go!’
‘I beg your pardon,’ he says, wide-eyed and taking a step back from the doorway. ‘I had no idea who the kid was. I was just letting him know I was here, that’s all.’
I take a deep breath.
‘Look, Aidan, I know you can’t be bothered with me or anything to do with life here in Ballybray, but I can’t wait any longer,’ I tell him. ‘I need you to watch this, like Mabel would have—’
We both talk over each other with the same breathless urgency.
‘But I told you already I’ve no intention of—’
‘We need to watch this together, Aidan, please!’ I tell him, unable to listen to his excuses on why we should put it off again. ‘Please. I don’t want to go against her wishes by watching it without you, but I also can’t just keep wonderingwhat she has to say. I need to hear her voice, Aidan, and then we never have to see each other again. Ever!’
Aidan guards the front door of Mabel’s house with his arm leaning on the doorframe and his other hand on the door itself. He looks as though he hasn’t slept a wink in days.
He also looks a bit spaced out with it, but I’m on a mission and I need to pin him down to do this once and for all. After we watch Mabel’s message, I don’t need to see him or disturb him or interrupt his work, nor will I ever want to.
