Freckles(86)

I hear a sound that makes me spin on my heels. It’s coming from Reenard’s Point. An engine. Distinctive. I don’t need to concentrate hard to see, it’s popping out from the landscape, the bright yellow Ferrari amidst the dark, drab fish factory buildings lining Reenard’s Point. As we get closer the car door opens and Tristan gets out. He grins at me. He beeps his car.

What are you doing, I shout across the water as soon as we’re close enough for him to hear. He grins and gets back into his car, preparing to drive on after the ferry has unloaded. I step back and watch in shock as he drives on first, slowly and carefully being the vehicle that it is, followed by the remaining cars in the queue that I ignore and am too stunned to guide to their places. He turns off the engine and gets out of the car with a cheeky grin, loving my absolute state of surprise and confusion. The passenger door opens and Pops climbs out.

Well it’s the first time I’ve been in a Ferrari, Allegra, and my my, that’s what brings the wild to the Wild Atlantic Way, Pops says, grinning at me.

Your dad drives very fast, Tristan says, eyes wide and faux scared.

I know, he drives very … what the … what are you doing, I stammer as I try to compute the vision. Why are you two, how are you … what the …

You left your notebook behind, Tristan says, holding up my gold notebook.

I’d left it behind on purpose. I’d thrown it in the bin at Becky and Donnacha’s. I should have ripped the pages out too, but I’d discarded it because nothing in it meant anything to me any more.

Becky, your landlord, came by my office to give it to me. After she saw the Friday Night Show, by the way.

I do feel a small sense of satisfaction. Quite regularly I like to imagine her expression when she heard my name from the mouth of our new prime minister. I like to imagine Carmencita’s reaction too, but I don’t think anything I do or say could ever win her over and I can’t imagine that will ever stop hurting. That’s a crack that may always remain in my shell.

I’m sorry but I read it, Tristan says.

It doesn’t matter, it wasn’t a diary. Half-written notes to Katie, Amal, and the now Taoiseach. My practised letter to Carmencita. He knew what was in those letters anyway.

There was one page that caught my eye, he says, and he opens it up to show me.

The title was my five people and beneath it, the constellation w-shaped list I’d compiled of the five people I actually spent the most time with.

Number one, he reads aloud and my heart starts banging in my chest. Pops, he says, because he loves me. Number two: Spanner, because he sees me. Number three: Paddy, because he teaches me. Number four: Tristan, because he inspires me. Number five: Genevieve, because she knows every inch of me, warts and all.

The driver’s door opens in the vehicle behind.

Hi Allegra, Genevieve sings. My God, my legs are stiff, wow, this is beautiful. Jasper’s minding the gallery, I’m here for the week, she grins.

Paddy emerges from the car next in line with a wave, and finally Spanner, with little Ariana who bounces around, excited to be on a boat.

Got custody for the holliers, Spanner says with a wink, taking off after her.

I look at them all, totally confused and stunned to see them, this mix of people, all together, here, on Valentia Island. They all gather together, around Pops and Tristan, looking at me with grins on their faces, proud of themselves for pulling off the big secret.

Go on, Spanner says, nudging Tristan roughly.

So I guess I’ll do the talking then, Tristan says, sounding more nervous than I’ve ever heard him. We are all here because, we’re your five. But most importantly we all have something in common which is that you, Allegra Bird, are one of our five. I’ll go first.

He clears his throat.

Apart from my parents, he says nervously, you’re the only one who lets me be Tristan. Everyone else has me on their list as Rooster. And of all the mentors I’ve had and searched for, you’re one of the most inspiring people I know.

Because you’re beautiful inside and out, Genevieve says loudly and confidently, the sentence like a song.

Because you show up every day, shouts Spanner.

Because you’re my friend, says Paddy, delivering it with such duty and honour.

I look at Pops. His voice trembles and it’s the undoing of me. Because you’re my daughter, he says. My one and only.

Pops’ lopsided smile and trembling lips. Tristan’s nervous, embarrassed face, his puppy dog eyes. I’m in shock. I look at them all. Feel utterly speechless but so happy, so very bloody deliriously happy.

And if it makes any difference, Tristan adds, you’re my number one.

I might have to battle you for that one, Pops says to Tristan, then winks at me. His wink forces a tear down his cheek, which he wipes away with the back of his hand.





ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


Thank you, Lynne Drew, Lara Stevenson, Kate Elton, Charlie Redmayne, Elizabeth Dawson, Anna Derkacz, Hannah O’Brien, Abbie Salter, Kimberley Young, Isabel Coburn, Alice Gomer, Tony Purdue, Patricia McVeigh, Ciara Swift, Jacq Murphy and all the innovative team at HarperCollins UK. I feel honoured to be working with you, to be published by you, and to have a seat at your table, even if it was a virtual room this year.

Thanks to my literary representatives at Park & Fine Literary and Media Agency. In particular, Theresa Park, Abby Koons, Ema Barnes, Andrea Mai, Emily Sweet and Alex Greene. A super team of superwomen. Thanks to Howie Sanders at Anonymous Content, Anita Kissane and Sarah Kelly.