Freckles(19)

Yeah, true but it’s like an earworm.

What’s that.

You know one of those things that you can’t get out of your head, like a song, that goes round and round. I keep thinking of it.

Yeah it is a bit like that. Probably why I passed it on. It was in my head too.

Could one family member be acceptable for your one of five, I ask.

I guess it could be if they’re extremely influential.

He is. Pops.

Is that your granddad or your—

My dad.

Okay. Yeah. He shrugs.

So four more, I think aloud. Is it the people you literally spend the most time with, whether you like them or not, or could it be people who … I pause. People who you haven’t even met.

People you haven’t met, he says, thinking aloud. Like, what do you mean, people who inspire you, he asks, reaching into my container for a walnut and popping it in his mouth while thinking. He looks out at the sea. Mmm that’s nice, usually I hate walnuts.

They’re candied.

I don’t know, he says, you’re overthinking this. I know it’s hard to reduce all the people you know down to five. You could be inspired by the idea and actions of someone … let’s say Oprah, but she can’t be on your list … you need to have interactions with the five. They need to intersect with your life.

He stares at me.

I stare back.

He’d be quite handsome if he wasn’t such a cock.

Explain it to me again, I say, because I still don’t really get the parameters for how one goes about becoming five.

Five people, he says slowly, this time with a broad grin and revealing perfect teeth, that you spend the most time with. That’s it. He stares at me, smiling.

What’s so funny.

Your face. You seem so confused.

I am, I say. You make it sound so simple. The five people. Whoever they are. They make me who I am. Forever. Just because I happen to spend time with them. That’s it. Nothing to do with me or how I was raised, or the decisions I make or my genes or anything like that. It all comes down to these five people.

Yes but no, he twists his body towards me, hands flying as he talks again. Big fancy watch on his slim wrist. Blond arm hairs on sallow skin. You are who you are, obviously, but that’s the beauty of it. The second part of the quote is, choose wisely. You get to choose. You get to choose your five people and that means you get to choose who shapes who you are, and therefore get to choose who you are. Let’s say you were putting a team together for basketball, wouldn’t you choose the best five people for the team, who are all skilled in specific areas. You’ve got the point guard, the shooting guard, the small forward, the power forward and the centre.

I don’t play basketball.

Not the point. He rolls his eyes. The project is you. Who do you need on your team, to be who you want to be.

Well now it’s inspiring, I say. Why didn’t you just say that before you ripped up the ticket.

We laugh.

Truce, he asks, holding his hand out.

I nod.

What’s your name, he asks.

Allegra Bird, I say.

His hands are soft. Softer than mine.

Allegra Bird. Cool name.

Comes from allegro. Means to play music lively. Pops is a music professor.

He’s one of your five.

He’s my number one. Do they need to be in order.

He laughs, a fantastic sound that makes me smile, amidst my utter spinning head of confusion.

Some people call me Freckles, I say, quite unnecessarily, but I can’t think of anything else to say.

Freckles, he says, smiling and he studies my face. I feel self-conscious. As though he’s mapping them out. Cute.

Well, Allegra aka Freckles, I’m Tristan.

I thought your name was Rooster.

No, Rooster’s my YouTube name.

Why do you have a YouTube name.

Because … how do you know I’m Rooster if you didn’t know I was a YouTuber.

Your secretary told me. I gave her the envelope that you have in your hand, I say, confused. He must be a bit mental if he’s forgotten what brought him here to me in the first place.

He’s frowning, looking at the envelope.

I found this on the floor by the door, he says, I thought you’d put it through the letterbox.

No. Your posse said you were in a meeting.

Yeah. I was.

Which do you prefer, I say, Rooster or Tristan.

Who do I prefer to be, he asks, or the name.

I hadn’t thought of that really but I tell him both.

I prefer being Rooster. But you can call me Tristan. What about you, which do you prefer, Allegra or Freckles.

I look at him. And he’s done it again. Another trigger.

Pops calls me Allegra. I have freckles because of Pops. But I don’t say either of those things. I just shrug and we part, both needing to get back to work.





Ten


I’m going home for Easter and I couldn’t be happier. It’s good Friday morning and I sit on the 06.20 train from Dublin to Killarney, watching the country racing by. The village was quiet for the week with the kids off school, and the difference no school made to the traffic. Most people cleared out for the two weeks. The streets were relatively empty, lots of parking spaces, there wasn’t a whole lot for me to do, no one to argue with every morning. I amused myself on Ash Wednesday by counting the amount of grey splodges on foreheads. Singed brains. As a little girl I’d thought somebody’s head had been on fire, was relieved for them they’d managed to put it out.