When All Is Said(26)

But I didn’t deny her. I owed her.

I was as nervous the next night as if it was my first time. No, it was worse. I shook, unable to control myself. Petrified, I waited for her, as she got ready in the bathroom. When at last she arrived, I made myself look at her face and deep into her eyes. In that moment I begged her to let me be, to remove this burden. But she laid her hand upon my cheek, lowered her face to mine and kissed me, imparting a forgiveness so deep and honest that I had to fight back my tears of relief and gratitude. Her kindness flowed through me, saving me, bringing me home.

The nine-month wait for you was the hardest of my life, or so I thought back then. I didn’t know whether I was coming or going, I mean that literally. I’d be halfway down the driveway in the morning and would turn back to make sure Sadie was OK. Or I’d call her incessantly from wherever I was. Like the evening I held up the phone in Royal County Hotel, when she told me she’d vomited.

‘For pity’s sake, Maurice. It was just the bacon we had for the dinner. It didn’t agree with me, that’s all. You’re causing me more trouble every time I have to haul myself up from the couch to answer the phone,’ she said, after my fourth call.

I hadn’t wanted to go to the bloody meeting at all, but Sadie insisted, nearly pushing me out the door. And then there was the weekend she decided to visit her father to stay for the couple of days. I dropped her off with the intention of heading back after a cup of tea. But I couldn’t make myself start the car. I ended up staying too.

And as for the doctor’s visits, I made every one.

‘Maurice! Back so soon?’ Doctor McRory said, on another of our weekly visits that I insisted on.

You made it in the end. Strong as an ox. Screamed your way into our life on the 20th of February 1969, like you were screaming for two. Maybe Molly had left a small bit of her breath in there for her baby brother. That’s what Sadie said, and she laughing in the bed, holding you to her. I watched Molly grow, alongside you. With each of your milestones, I have imagined hers also. Her first step. Her first word. First day at school. Her debs. ’Course I never told Sadie a hint of the fact that her daughter has lived in my head all this time, loving her life; the picture of her mother. Blonde hair, though, with a little wave in it that Sadie would have envied. Slight but not too dainty, just the right side of it. Determined. Doing whatever she set her mind to. A great sense of what’s right and wrong in the world. No middle ground with her. No grey area in between. I like that in her. But, for all her bravado, she has a vulnerability that’s made me want to make the world just right for her.

Mad isn’t it? There you were, my living son right in front of me, waiting to be noticed, but my head lingered with a ghost. My heart, missing a small beat of its rhythm. Not so unlike my mother after all.

It wasn’t just me I blamed for Molly’s death, you know. Our maker had to answer the charge also. It’s true my faith was tested when Tony was taken but when He decided on Molly too, well, I called it a day. Your mother still believed. I’d walk her to the door of the church for Mass and there we’d part ways. I’d hang around outside or go back to sit in the car. I couldn’t go inside. I wouldn’t give Him the pleasure.

I made my peace with Him, in a manner of speaking, after you were born. He never received my full forgiveness, though. My faith never felt quite the same again. I know the theory: these things are put here to test us, with one hand He taketh and so on. But all the words in the bible and the placations of Father Forrester could never smooth the injustice of Molly’s death. I’ve only crossed over the threshold of His house for funerals – Noreen’s, not to mention your mother’s but that’s different. I did that for Sadie, that’s nothing got to do with Him. We have an unwritten rule now, Him and me. He lets me live my life as I see fit and in return I say the odd quiet prayer in my head. Our gentleman’s agreement works. We’ve made a new one of late, His greatest test yet. But I can’t be getting into that yet. There’s an order in which I want to do this. Bear with me just a little longer.

Emily reminds me of Molly. Small, fair haired, precious looking. When she stood before me on that first day, all I could see was my daughter. Floored, I was. Could barely get the words out of my mouth, to book the rooms. Did I tell you that bit yet, about the first day I met Emily?

You see, true to his word back well after you were born, Jason Bruton, Hilary Dollard’s husband and Emily’s father, did the hotel conversion. It opened in 1977. We were invited to the opening but I purposely hid the invitation from your mother. She’d only have wanted to go. I’d seen Jason around the village over the years since our showdown. He’d nod in my direction or mouth a very curt hello. Always in a rush somewhere. In return I’d raise my index finger, not too high mind. Regret is too strong a word, but I wish I’d made an effort to know him. There was something trustworthy in his bravery the night he’d stood at our front door asking me to give more money for the Dollard land. But even if I had reached across the divide and stopped for a chat on those days we passed each other by, I doubt he’d have given me the time of day. I wouldn’t have, had the shoe been on the other foot. In the end, he possibly came out the better man. It was your wedding, nineteen years later in ninety-six that did that.

‘Mr Hannigan, it’s my absolute pleasure to welcome you to the Rainsford House Hotel,’ he said, standing at his reception, holding out his hand once more to me on the day of the viewing. ‘We’ve had our doubters, but here we are, defying the odds, ready to spend your money,’ he said, a big grin on his face.