She knows she sounds vaguely unhinged. She knows she’s behaving badly. Slamming doors, hiding in a bathroom, drinking all the way here, but isn’t she allowed to get overwhelmed sometimes? Does she always have to be happy, positive, laughs-at-everything Niamh? Why can’t she be angry?
One thing she knows for absolute certain is that Becca and Peggy can take their Fire Starter ceremony and stuff it up their arses. She won’t be going. She might even use her phone, which she is absolutely keeping by her side, to call a taxi to take her home. That it will cost a small fortune doesn’t matter. She’s sure Becca and Laura will manage perfectly well without her. If anything, they’ll probably enjoy themselves more.
20
KELLY CLARKSON EAT YOUR HEART OUT
Becca
‘I don’t think Niamh is going to the Fire Starter ceremony,’ Laura says, as I sit on the bed pulling on a pair of thick woollen socks.
She has been locked in the bathroom for the better part of forty-five minutes and it’s not long until we have to leave to make our way to the meeting house.
I’ve tried talking to her. I’ve tried apologising. I didn’t know that we were going to have to hand our phones over. It’s hardly ideal for me either. I’ve just called Adam, Saul and my mother to let them know I’ll be out of range for the next two days and they are not to worry if they don’t hear from me. I’ve given them all the phone number of the glamping site for use in an emergency, which I’ve had to stress to Saul does not include any minor electrical appliances going on the blink, or his requirement to be reminded of what he got from Santa in 2011.
I didn’t phone Conal. I don’t think we’re at the stage where I can presume he’d be worried about getting in touch with me and I don’t want to come across as super needy. Even though being super needy is a big part of who I am as a person. I popped him a quick text instead, telling him I’ll talk to him when I get back on Sunday. I added two kisses to the end. It seemed appropriate.
Laura has informed her nearest and dearest, and while she was initially a bit put out by the notion of handing over her phone, or ‘my precious’ as she refers to it, she is now embracing it wholeheartedly.
‘I think it’s actually a really good idea. We’ve all messed up our ability to concentrate and focus thanks to these mini-computers in our hands. Our foremothers didn’t have iPhones and they still made shit happen. It can’t be easy to unleash our inner goddesses while we’re wondering about the latest trend on TikTok,’ she says.
The bathroom door opens.
‘Fucking TikTok,’ Niamh says, walking back into the room. It’s obvious she’s been crying.
Immediately I stand up and move to give her a hug.
‘Don’t,’ she says, and it’s very much not in a ‘don’t hug me because I will just cry again’ way. It’s very much in a ‘if you touch me, I will cut you’ way. Niamh is in full-on scary Niamh mode. It’s not seen often, but when it arrives it is brutal and unforgiving.
I take a step back.
‘We’re just getting ready to go up to the meeting house,’ Laura says. I can hear the fear in her voice.
‘I’ve a headache. I’m not going,’ Niamh says as she walks to the bed and climbs in, fully clothed.
I suppose I could offer her a coffee, or some paracetamol, but I have a feeling the reply I get won’t be the nicest. So I stay quiet. I don’t remind her that this is my work and her actions might reflect badly on me. I know I’m already in the bad books.
‘I’m not handing my phone over,’ she says, petulantly, and pulls the duvet up over her head.
Laura and I look at each other, aware that things have definitely slipped into the Very Bad Place.
‘That’s okay,’ I say, worried I sound too chipper. Or not chipper enough. ‘Rest up. Enjoy the peace and quiet.’
There’s a muffled grunt of a response and I’m certainly not brave enough to push it any further, so I just finish getting ready in silence, as does Laura. Occasionally we look at each other, raising our eyebrows in a silent ‘do you think she’s okay?’ gesture. The truth is that neither of us really knows.
* * *
Walking to the meeting house with Laura, I try and pull myself out of the doldrums that now seem to hang over us.
‘She’d had quite a bit to drink,’ Laura says, trying to reassure me. ‘I think she probably just needs to sleep it off. And I can understand her not wanting to hand over her phone – not with Jodie being pregnant. She probably needs her mum more than ever now.’
‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘But she does have Paul and Adam to help her and it’s only two days.’
‘It’s not the same though. No shade to Adam, but he doesn’t know what it feels like to be pregnant. With the best will in the world, he can’t understand the clusterfuck of hormones running through her body right now.’
‘I suppose,’ I say, still feeling a little over-protective of Adam. ‘But still, the ceremony down on the beach would be the perfect way to clear her head.’
‘True, but I think it’s very clear she has made her mind up, Becs. So we just have to make the most of it, just us two. Let’s get our spirits lifted – this is your big chance! Your magazine feature! We’re going to embrace the ever-loving shit out of it!’ Laura has injected extra energy and enthusiasm into her voice – so much so that I can’t help but smile. She’s absolutely right, of course. This is my big chance and I can’t let Niamh’s sour mood, or anything else, stop me from embracing it fully.
