‘You heard me,’ he said. ‘Maybe I need time too. I’m going on this retreat to really think things through. Have a nice summer with your family, Kate.’
Now, as autumn has passed and winter and the darknights draw in, I don’t know how much longer I can go on without him, but I must respect his decision. Just as I needed time and space to help out my own family here, he needs time out to help and heal himself.
It’s been almost eight months since my father died, eight months since I packed a case at our apartment in Bromley and pledged to David that my family needed me more than he did; eight months since he had an emotional breakdown that knocked him to the floor but never, ever broke him fully.
But time is beginning to chip away at me and I need him so badly. I forgive him and I need him, but I have to know we are both ready before we can ever try to be together again. I may be ready now, but it turns out he isn’t and that’s something I just have to live with.
‘Are you all set?’ my mother asks me as I put my make-up on for a talk I’m giving today in Belfast, the biggest speech I’ve given to date on trauma and its aftermath.
I’ve bared my soul to my listeners many times at a local level, where I’ve talked about the effect of the bomb and how I promised myself I would follow my dream to be a nurse. I’ve spoken of the night terrors and the emotional pain that haunted me for years and how I used it to promote awareness of topics that mean something to me. I’ve told of the horror of my father’s death at the hands of lowlife gangs and how I’ve taken a career break, moved my family out of a crippled and damaged estate into a home in amuch more beautiful part of the neighbourhood where they can all make a fresh start in life. Every penny I’d saved since I left university, every penny I saved for a future with David, I’ve invested in them and I feel better for it.
I’ve told many people my story, but today is the biggest audience I will face to date, and to say I’m nervous is an understatement.
‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,’ I tell my mother, noticing how she looks at me with such pride.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ she whispers, and I look in the mirror to see the tears well up in her eyes. She is wearing a spectacular black trouser suit that shows off her enviable figure, her hair is styled and curled, and she is wearing the gold necklace I’ve always meant to ask her about. She has made such an effort to be by my side today.
‘Did Dad buy you that?’ I ask, my eyes diverting to the fine gold chain around her neck. ‘I notice you wear it every day.’
She touches the delicate necklace tenderly and smiles.
‘He bought this for me the day you were born,’ she tells me with a smile. ‘I remember his face when he gave it to me. You’d have thought he was presenting me with the most precious jewels. It meant the world to him and it meant the world to me too.’
‘Ah, that’s special,’ I whisper. ‘I always knew it was special.’
‘As are you, my precious girl. You know, Kate, your dad and I were crazy about each other behind all our trouble,’she continues, ‘but I pushed him away so many times until he decided never to come back again. You’ll never know regret like I do now, I hope, my darling. My heart is broken since he died and I realize that, although I thought I’d loved before, everyone and everything else I loved before him just left a scratch in there. Now, since he has gone, my heart, when it comes to romantic love, is broken for real. A heart can be scratched many times, but it can only be broken by a romantic love once in a lifetime.’
I stare at the necklace and my own heart aches when I imagine my dad picking it out for her on the day I came into the world.
She puts her hand on my shoulder.
‘You paused your own life with David to come and help us,’ she says to me. ‘You sacrificed your own wonderful life and I only hope you can pick up where you left off with him. He’s a great man, Kate. He’s the only man I can ever imagine you being with. Please don’t let him go. Don’t break your own heart for the sake of honouring things that are way out of your control. We used always to ask what we would do without you, but now we have to learn for ourselves. You can’t stay here with us for ever.’
‘I know that now, Mum,’ I reply, feeling a sinking sensation of guilt grip my insides. ‘I was angry at David for reasons that were so unfair to him. I was angry that he didn’t know the life I’d lived here, the threats we suffered, the trauma we faced so often. The differences in ourbackgrounds were always simmering beneath our happiness, and then – just like I’d feared – they came to a head and boiled over. I hope he will forgive me soon. I’ll never stop waiting for him.’
She pats my hair and fixes it at the back. I’m wearing an emerald green dress that shows off my eyes and, when I look in the mirror and tuck my hair behind my ears, I feel a pull inside me and a longing for him that’s physical, emotional, and so overpowering I don’t know if I can get through this day without him.
I wish he was here. I want him back but I just hope we haven’t left it too late, because now that I’ve fixed my family, all I want to do is fix us.
DAVID
I don’t tell either of my parents that I’m paying them a visit today.
Instead I just rock up to the house in a taxi, having bussed it from the airport to my home town, and as I stand at the front door I know that today is the first day of the rest of my life. It’s the day I grab everything by the horns, after months of therapy, self-help and rebuilding myself into the person I want to be from now on.
I feel taller in stature, I’m stronger physically than I’ve ever been and my mind is crystal clear.
Every step I’ve taken on my journey out of the darkness has taught me something that I’ll always hold dear. I’ve learned that sad times will only ever make us appreciate happy times more, that absence from those we love will only make us love them even more, and that when life gets too noisy or busy, it’s teaching us how much we should appreciate the quiet, more peaceful times, or vice versa.
A summer at a Buddhist retreat in India plunged me to deeper parts of my existence that I never knew I could reach. I realized that – although Kate and I were so strong and she is always going to be the best thing that ever happened to me – I was like those swans we saw on the lake that day. I was masking my inner turmoil; I was gliding along on the surface and paddling so frantically underneath that I finally crashed. It took Kate leaving to make me see it all for what it was – she had been propping me up all along, and without her I was unsteady; but I needed to learn to stand strong on my own and I’m so glad to say I can do that now.
My mother opens the door and her hands clasp her face when she sees me.
‘David!’ she exclaims. ‘Look at you! So handsome! Come in! It’s so good to see you!’
I step inside my family home and allow myself to remember for only a second the scenes that occurred on my last visit here with Kate on the day of our engagement. Those days are gone now. I’m no longer the fist-clenching,blame-giving, hostile person I used to be when it comes to my father. I’ve come to accept my part in our troubled relationship and also acknowledge our vast differences with understanding that yes he did change, but he also gave me many precious years as a child that I can only look back on with love. He hasn’t aged well, he has suffered with his own health lately, while ironically my mother has gone from strength to strength.
But it’s also in memory of Kate’s father, Peter O’Neill, that I come here today. He planted the seed in me to never leave what we have to say until it’s too late. His words have never left me and I want to do this not only for me and my father, but also to acknowledge his strong advice. I can then rest in the knowledge that I tried my best.
