Chapter Twenty-Five
The next morning, as we sat down to a breakfast of porridge and tea in our B&B, I glanced at the Sunday papers.
Michael was on the front page. The headline was;
F**K ME FOGGY. POLITICIAN IN LOVE ROMP
I snatched the paper quickly and scanned the words. ‘Michael Fogarty admits to affair with his secretary.’ And there, in the bottom of the front paper, was a picture of me,outside our house, taken yesterday as we’d got in the car to head down to West Cork. I looked about fifty, hair all over the place. On the other side of the paper was a picture of Lucy looking splendid, as she always did, smiley and happy.
‘What’s wrong, Mum?’
‘Nothing.’ I quickly panicked and tried to hide the paper.
‘Mum, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
While we’d been in West Cork,miles and miles from home, the whole nation had been reading about Lucy and Foggy. Lucy and Foggy. Jesus Christ. I was not surprised but now here it was, in black and white and capital letters. And asterisks.
‘Rosie, I’ve just read something… now this is what happens when you have a parent in public office…’ I began but she snatched the paper from me. I thought of the piles of papers in all theshops and newsagents of the land, thousands of papers with that headline reaching as far as the eye could see.
Rosie stared at the page, her brain trying to make sense of the headline and the words. ‘Dad?’ she said and then, turning to me, eyes wide. ‘Lucy?’
‘I don’t think it’s Dad they are talking about,’ I said quickly, helplessly, ‘it must be someone else.’
‘Mum, this is Dad. Michael Fogarty.He’s Foggy. That’s him. And he’s having an affair. With Lucy!’
‘It’s all a mistake, you know how newspapers make things up. Fake news!’ My ridiculous and unconvincing smile was stuck to my face and I wondered would I always have to look like this. But Rosie was now reading the paper, scanning it for details.
Inside, on the double-page spread in the paper was another photo of me, this one takenoutside the school, looking wild-eyed and crazed on the day the protest began. The caption was ‘Wife Tobitha is again at the centre of another unusual domestic drama.’ All sane people would understand entirely why Michael would have chosen the serene and lovely Lucy the Marvel. Lucy theMistress.
‘Tobitha!’ Rosie almost laughed.
‘Shhhh!’ I hissed. We were already drawing attention to ourselveswith our increasing hysteria. ‘Let’s go back to our room.’
Gathering up the papers, we both ran up the stairs to our room and laid the papers on the bed.
‘Anotherunusual domestic drama. Oh my God.’ We looked at each other in shock and awe, my right hand gripping Rosie’s elbow while we devoured the paper. Poor Rosie, this was all she needed. So much for a magical, healing trip to West Cork.How could Michael do this to you?I thought, looking at Rosie. For God’s sake. Hadn’t she enough going on without her father being plastered over all the tabloids. I didn’t care about me, I realised. Michael and Lucy could do what they wanted and, in some weird way, I was glad for them, but Rosie was still a child. How could he do this to her?
‘Mum… I can’t… I can…’
‘Okay, just breathe,’ I commanded.‘Just focus on breathing. All this is a shock. That’s it, just breathe. Don’t worry. It’s all going to be fine.’
Her hands were clenched, her eyes closed.
‘Come on,’ I urged, ‘come on, it’s okay…’
Finally, she opened her eyes. ‘I’m all right, I’m all right…’
‘Breathe into it, isn’t that what they said. Don’t try and run from it.’
Eventually she lifted her head. ‘Mum, this is actually worsethan me ruining my entire future by not doing the Leaving Cert. It’s a sex scandal. The headline is F asterisk-asterisk K Me Foggy. We are now Fuck Me Foggy’s family, we are the Fuck Me Foggy family…’
‘The Fuck Me Foggy family… oh please not the Fuck Me Foggy family.’ And maybe there was something in the West Cork air, but we began to laugh, the horror and the hysterics causing us to lose controlof ourselves, for the second time that day. Doubled over and becoming helpless every time the other one repeated the immortal phrase ‘the Fuck Me Foggy Family’.
‘Oh Rosie…’ I had managed to draw breaths. ‘I’m so sorry…’
‘They called youTobitha.’ She pointed again to the picture of me and it started the two of us off again. ‘Tobitha!’
Eventually, exhausted from laughing, we began to sober up,reality setting in, we now had to face our new notoriety as the Fuck Me Foggy Family.
