And that was all. The text had been so innocuous on the surface, so indirect, it’d taken her a few minutes for the implication to sink in. He wasn’t coming back. She’d been dumped.
‘Cassie?’
There was something comforting about the view of the sea and the fields stretched out in front of them, largely unchanged for a hundred years at least.
‘We used to come up here when we were kids, myself and Maxine, with our dad. I used to love looking down and allowing myself to feel dizzy, and just hang on to the rocks to feel safe. I still do.’
She felt the rough granite under her hands as they sat side-by-side on a massive boulder. He leaned into his backpack, took out a bar of chocolate and broke it in half.
‘There’s no such thing as a view without chocolate.’
‘I bet you’re a lovely dad.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I’m not sure everyone would agree.’
‘Finn, do you think your kids would like me?’
She knew she was fishing, but the little girl in her wanted reassurance.
‘Of course, they would. Who wouldn’t love you?’
Well, maybe kids who wouldn’t see her as just Cassie. She felt a sudden desire to be part of his world, to be accepted in it, but she heard Josie’s insistent voice in her head. Don’t fall over yourself to be accepted. You’re worth more than that.
Josie, her rock, who was now rushing to join the world of parents, where Cassie could be a tourist at best, an intruder at worst, but never a native.
‘It’s time for me to head off.’ Finn sighed.
‘Already?’
‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Come over Thursday after six, I’ll cook dinner.’
That felt better.
‘Done.’ She smiled.
* * *
Back at her car, the sun had gone in and she felt the harsh March wind whipping her cheeks. There was something about separating from Finn and seeing him switch off as soon as they kissed goodbye that left her with a pang of loneliness. She just needed to grow up, she mused, while negotiating the traffic along the N11; she needed to allow him his space without feeling abandoned. Despite that, she found herself veering off at the next set of lights and heading up towards Mam’s. She didn’t have the energy to be cool and self-reliant; she felt like sitting beside a fire in the familiar surroundings and letting the hectic world go by for a little while.
‘A school?’ enthused Mam. ‘Now, that’d be lovely. I always said you’d make a super little teacher. But of course, you had to go off and do the risky thing.’
Mam rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and made them do a little shimmy of exasperation. Cassie picked up a slice of lemon drizzle cake and sank her teeth into its spongy comfort.
‘Still,’ she went on, ‘I’m delighted you met that nice fellow, Phil. Terribly sad.’
She allowed the dramatic pause to hang between them.
‘What’s sad?’
Mam inhaled. ‘Well, all right. He married quite late. But men often do. Anyhow, it was all working out brilliantly. She was a district nurse and apparently everyone loved her and was very happy for them. They had a house in a lovely spot in Crossmolina, Co. Mayo, and the next thing, wasn’t she expecting? And it’s twins.’
This was clearly one of Mam’s stories where everything was going enviably well for people, heralding the fact that it was all about to go to shite.
‘Now, she was a few months off her due date and they had the whole house set up for the twins, and of course there was great excitement. But then .?.?. didn’t she go into labour, just one night, no reason in the wide world – they couldn’t believe what was happening. So, what could they do but pile into the car and start heading for Castlebar Hospital. But of course, it’s a very long drive and the roads are very bad. She’s in the back, in agony, and poor Phil is nearly beside himself. Should he stop and see to her, or should he just keep going, poor fellow, what could he do?’
‘God, Mam, that’s ghastly.’
‘They got to the hospital, but didn’t it turn out to be placenta previa. They did everything but, in the end, all three of them passed away.’
