The Bright Side (19 page)

Jonathon came home from hospital next day. He had his party. I attended, with Gerry, who gave me a hard time throughout – after all the effort I’d put in, you’d think I’d be a bit
cheerier
now that the boy was home. Tony made a little speech. He singled me out for thanks and everyone applauded. I did a little bow and said it was nothing really – the real hero was Jonathon, who’d been so brave, so uncomplaining. The attention was deflected and stayed deflected. Tony and I had no time alone at the party; we were never alone again, in fact. I think that was deliberate, on both our parts. A few months after Jonathon came home, Tony called to our house one night and told us he had some news. A job had come up in the bank. It would be a sideways move, really, but he liked the sound of it and he felt he needed a new start. In short, he was off to Galway within a matter of weeks. And that was that. Our infidelity was just like Tony’s suicide threat. It happened, but was never acknowledged afterwards. Despite promises to the contrary, he never made contact once he’d moved away. The house went up for sale and was bought by a man from Westmeath, who had a dozen more just like it. He rented it to a friendly Nigerian couple for a few of years, but they quickly established themselves well enough to buy a place of their own. The house went into the papers again and soon attracted new tenants. One was called Paula and one was called Lisa
.

It’s a funny old world
.

CHAPTER
9

When
I
woke
up
on
Saturday
morning,
I
found
that
I had
a
little
movie
running
constantly
in
my
head
–
Gerry
and
Lisa,
hard
at
it.
I
hadn’t
given
the
act
itself
a
great deal
of
thought
up
to
that
point,
but
now
it
was
everywhere I
looked
(especially
on
the
inside
of
my
eyelids).
Worse
still, my
mental
movie
was
shockingly
vivid.
I
could
see
every detail,
from
every
angle.
I
could
hear
everything
too,
the groans
and
slurps,
the
coos
and
rustles.
When
I
emerged from
Melissa’s
super-duper
shower
(which
almost
knocked me
off
my
feet),
I
sat
on
the
edge
of
bed
and
waited
for
the tears
to
come.
They
didn’t.
Every
time
I
began
to
get
upset, a
new
movie
started
up,
one
with
similar
themes
but different
characters;
I
had
a
starring
role
.

It wasn’t long before I gave up and went downstairs
.

I found Melissa alone in the kitchen, drinking coffee and flipping through a magazine
.

“Morning,” I said
.

She glanced in my direction. “Hi. Just brewed up. What would you like for breakfast?
”

“I’m not really hungry. I’ll get a cup of –” “I’ll get it.
”

“No, you stay where you are, I’ll do it.” “Are you –
”

“Sit, sit.
”

I got the coffee and took a stool across the island from hers. “How did you sleep?” she asked after a moment
.

“Not very well. But okay, considering. I got a few hours.” I could tell that she hadn’t really listened to my answer. She pushed the magazine away and drew a deep breath
.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said. “About last night.” “Oh. Right. Well, I’m sorry too.
”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Jackie. You came here after what, I’m sure, must have been one of the worst experiences of your life and I let you down.
”

“No, you were –
”

“I should have been more sensitive. I should have just
listened
. ‘Relieved’ – Jesus. I can’t believe I said that. I … apologise.
”

The
word
seemed
to
stick
in
her
throat a
little,
but
she
got
it
out
in
the
end.
I
gave
my
response
a
moment’s
thought.
The
right
thing
to
say,
of
course,
was
that
she
hadn’t
entirely
misread
the
signs,
she’d
just
come
up
with
the
wrong
explanation,
that
was
all.
But
I
didn’t
say
the
right
thing.
I
said,
“Apology
accepted”
in
the
most
magnanimous
tone
I
could
fake
on
short
notice.
Melissa
nodded
and
I
nodded
back
.

“Where’s Colm?” I asked, hoping to move the conversation along to other things
.

“He took Niall out to Killiney for a tramp along the beach. They’ll be hours.
”

“God, it’s years since I was out there. Does he go –
”

I was interrupted by the sound of La Cucaracha coming from my mobile; I had a text. The phone was closer to Melissa than me. She slid it across the counter. The message was from Gerry. As usual, it was all caps. It read:
CAN
I
HAVE THE
JEEP
BACK
PLS?
I
NEED
IT
!

“Look,” I said and passed the phone back
.

Her face tightened as she read. “What do you make of that?” she said
.

A thought occurred: I had no chance of making any progress, reconciliation-wise, until Melissa ditched her
Jackie’s-not-that-bothered
theory. Here was my chance to kill it stone dead
.

“His jeep,” I said softly. “That’s all he cares about. His bloody
jeep
.
”

“Don’t get all annoyed,” Melissa said. “It’s not worth it.
”

I got off my stool and gritted my teeth. “I’m going to pop out,” I said. “Do you mind? I’ve got something to do.
”

“What is it?” she said. “What are you going to do?
”

I didn’t answer until I was halfway down the hall. “I’m going to give him most of his jeep back.
”

It
took
me
the
best
part
of
an
hour
to
fight
my
way
across to
First
Premier.
I
ran
through
a
number
of
possible
options
as
I
drove
and
was
satisfied,
by
the
time
I
swiped
my
way into
the
car
park,
that
I
had
settled
on
the
best
of
them.
I’d expected
the
place
to
be
deserted
on
a
Saturday,
but
there were
a
few
cars
dotted
around
the
place.
Overworked managers
of
one
kind
or
another,
I
guessed;
I couldn
’t imagine
that
any
mere
grunts
like
myself
had
popped
in
to enter a
little
extra
data
.

I
went past
my own
car and
parked in a
space by
a pillar. Then
I
got
out
and
walked
around
for
a
minute
or
two, making
sure
there
was
no
one
watching.
My
breathing
had become
very
shallow
and
my
hands
were
shaking.
Once
I was
sure
that
I
was
alone,
I
got
back
into
the
jeep
and
started the
engine.
On
a
sudden
whim,
I
turned
on
the
radio.
Kate Bush
was
tinkling
her
way
into
“Wuthering
Heights”,
one
of my
favourites.
I
stuck
the
gear
into
reverse
and
edged
back out
of
my
space.
After
taking
one
last
look
around,
I
turned the
wheel
to
the
right
and
rolled
away
–
backwards.
I
was
still in
reverse.
A
small
groan
escaped
me.
As
I
moved
off
again, forwards
this
time,
I
found
it
surprisingly
difficult
to
keep the
wheel
turned
right.
The
(not
very
big)
part
of
my
brain that
dealt
with
driving
was
screaming
that
this
was
all
wrong. But
I
persisted.
The
first
contact
between
the
side
of
the jeep
and
the
pillar
was
so
jarring
that
I
immediately
stepped on
the
brake.
I
took
a
moment
to
collect
myself
and
then tried
again.
The
noise
was
incredible;
it
sounded
like
the
Titanic
going
down.
When
the
pillar
reached the
rear
wheel arch,
I
reversed
out
of
the
space
and
drove
into
the
one
to
my right.
I
found
it
easier
to
do
the
passenger
side,
possibly because
it
was
further
away
and
possibly
because
I
was
getting
used
to
being
in
a
vehicle
that
was
very
slowly crashing.
When
I’d
finished
and
straightened
the
jeep
up
in its
space,
I
took
my
hands
off
the
wheel
and
just
sat
there, waiting
for
the
end
of
the
song.
Kate
seemed
to
stay
out
on those
wild
and
windy
moors
for
ages,
but
eventually
the
time came
for
me
to
get
out
and
inspect
the
damage.
The
word
for it,
I
realised
as
I
covered
my
hand
with
my
mouth,
was “significant”.
I’d
imagined
a
pair
of
nice
clean
scrapes,
but the
thing
looked
as
if
it
had
just
been
squeezed
between
two
oncoming
trucks.
I
walked
around
it
three
times
on
increasingly
wobbly
legs.
It
was
going
to
cost
a
fortune
to
fix. But
then
again,
I
told
myself,
that
was
the
whole
point.
And besides,
there
was
no
going
back
now.
What
was
done
was done.
I
bent
down
and
deposited
the
keys
on
the
ground inside
the right
front tyre
.