Chapter 25
In the office, on Monday morning, Hughie was at his desk, reeking of his aftershave, working away.
‘Hello, early bird,’ said Kitty, slipping off her jacket. ‘You smell good. Hugo Boss again?’
‘It’s a Paco Rabanne kind of day,’ he said. ‘Musk, sandalwood and a soup?on of ennui. Only joking,’ he said, as Kitty giggled. ‘Couldn’t be better. I’ve finished the nut bar campaign, and done some mock-ups for the posters for Welcome Ireland. I’ve used your copy, I have photographs of some of the great sights of Ireland. I’ve put the camper van on top of Mount Brandon, it’s doing a wheelie around the Giant’s Causeway, and there it is again parking up at the Barack Obama Plaza to go and buy a burger and chips.’
Kitty laughed. ‘I think the last one can be left out… but…’ She came and stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at his two computer screens.
They both gazed at the screens, neither saying a word, trying to take it in and imagine it as double-page spreads in magazines or on billboards in Boston.
‘What do you think? Happy?’
They looked good. Great colours, nice design, lovely idea of the little camper van heading around the country. ‘Follow me!’ it said, and there was a QR code which would take you to a map of the van’s journey.
‘It’s cute,’ said Kitty.
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Sweet,’ she said.
‘It really is.’ Hughie nodded.
‘Fun,’ she said.
‘Yes, very fun…’
‘I like it…’
‘So do I.’
‘But I don’t love it.’
He shook his head. ‘No… neither do I… there’s someth?—’
‘Don’t say it.’
‘Okay then.’ He clamped his lips shut.
‘But you’re right,’ said Kitty.
Hughie, with his lips tightly shut, made some unintelligible noises.
‘You can speak,’ she said.
‘Something is missing,’ he said.
‘I know.’
They looked again at the screens, taking it all in. Kitty wished there wasn’t something missing, but there was. But they’d made it fun. Wasn’t that enough? But the something missing was a vacuum, this big hole of nothingness which gaped emptily at them. But to fill it with what? But before Kitty could come dwell on it for long, her phone vibrated with a text from Billy.
Dad
Fancy a kickaround?
Kitty stared at the phone for a moment. He’d always been slightly mysterious to her and Catherine, as though he worked on an entirely different clock and to very different principles. She had sometimes wondered how on earth she shared the same DNA… but perhaps it was time to learn something about him. And also ask him about the effect his injury had on him. And the glow of pride she’d felt the previous day lingered.
Kitty
Why not? 7pm? At the Ground?
Dad
Great. See you then.
Kitty spent the rest of the day starting to develop their Welcome Ireland ideas. She began by writing a story, which was how she always began. Get the people in place, their backgrounds, what they want and need, and then find out what to do with them. She had something, but over the next week, she was confident she would have more. And with Hughie and Alex working on their elements, they could have a pretty good campaign.
She looked up from her desk.
‘I know that smile,’ said Hughie, grinning at her. ‘It’s the look of someone who has got a good idea.’
‘Really?’ said Kitty. ‘You can tell that from my face?’
He nodded. ‘Well, either that or Dave came home. Something is making you look brighter.’
He was right, she did feel brighter and lighter. ‘It’s not Dave,’ she said. ‘He’s still at his mam’s.’
‘Well, then? What or who is it?’
Alex and Mary Rose were both looking across at her.
‘If I have anything to tell, Hughie,’ she said, ‘you’ll be the first to know. But I was sailing on Saturday and got windburned.’
‘It suits you,’ said Alex. ‘You look like you are glowing from the inside.’
Kitty felt as though she was glowing from the inside, she could feel it, as though the soft embers were beginning to catch fire again. Her desk was messy, pens everywhere, two half-drunk coffee cups, her orchid looking a little droopy, there were crumbs from her lunchtime sandwich. Before, this sight would have been horrifying, but for some reason, it didn’t disturb her. She gave the orchid a quick drink from her water bottle and brushed some of the crumbs off, but it was a desk, it didn’t matter. And she couldn’t remember the last time she had cleaned out the inside of her handbag, or dropped anything off at the charity shop, or even brushed Romeo’s fur in a futile bid to keep the house hair-free. She’d been obsessed with order, she realised. And now it didn’t really matter.
Later, after work, Kitty walked down to the Seafarers’ ground, where Billy was waiting for her. Even that was a surprise. He was never on time, but he was obviously making an effort and she even found herself feeling slightly nervous. It was easy to dismiss someone and refuse to let them in, but to open up took more bravery than she had thought.
‘Hi, Dad…’
He looked up, his face smiling. ‘Kitty!’
They observed each other for a moment. He was dressed in an old blue tracksuit, one she’d seen him wear a hundred times. His hair was grey and long on the top and slightly receding at the temple. He had a thin face and a long nose and when he smiled, his whole face lit up, his eyes crinkling. He would have been quite charismatic back in the day, she thought. But there was something about him that she hadn’t noticed before, a quiet sadness, a reserve.
He held open his arms. ‘Come and give me a hug,’ he said. ‘How are you? Work okay? Your mother doing well? How is that Dave of yours?’
‘All fine,’ she said, allowing him to briefly envelop her and kiss the top of her head.
Behind Billy was a net of footballs. He picked one up. ‘Shall we begin? Well, what’s this?’
‘A football…’
He shook his head. ‘No… well, yes, obviously it’s a football… but it’s more than that… so much more… it’s energy… it’s a representation of the earth’s energy, that’s what it is. When you are playing a game of football, do you think you are just kicking a ball around?’
Kitty nodded. ‘I thought that’s exactly what it is…’
He shook his head. ‘That’s what it isn’t. What is the aim of a game of football?’
Kitty was sure she knew the answer. ‘To score goals. To win?’
He shook his head again. ‘It’s to find the flow, to find the flow of energy that exists between you and your band of brothers or sisters, to work together, to harness all the energy in the air, to pass it between you, to be so in the flow that you hardly remember you are playing. You have to submit entirely to the game, to the team, to your other players, to be so focused on the ball and the fact that you are a speck in the universe, to know your place, to be humbled, to be fortunate enough to exist on this beautiful planet… and you honour it.’
Kitty was deeply sceptical. ‘Are you sure it’s not just to kick the ball into the net?’
‘The goals will follow,’ he assured her, spinning a ball on his right index finger and then catching it again. ‘Just find your flow.’
‘How do I do that?’
‘Catch the ball…’ he said. ‘And see it for what it is… energy.’ He tossed it to Kitty and miraculously she caught it. ‘When I threw it, I drew on reserves of energy, it created even more as it flew, and then you accepted all that energy when you caught it and created even more… and on it goes. Stay in the moment, focus on the ball, on the blades of grass, on the sounds of your boots in the turf, your breathing… stay low, remain small… you’re a speck in the universe, remember. Be humble.’
He’s more eccentric than I could have imagined, Kitty thought. But she nodded, as though she understood. But, also, he seemed more in control of things than she’d ever witnessed. It was as though, here on this pitch, on this field of green, he belonged, and it was the rest of the world, with its clocks and times and rules, that couldn’t conform. He was all about flow.
She dropped the ball to the ground.
‘Look at it,’ he said, ‘focus. See where it is and what it represents… what does it represent?’
‘Energy…’ she said.
‘Molecules, atoms… things we don’t understand. Life force. Now, see it, feel it and pass it to me…’
Kitty went to pick it up.
‘No, with your foot… see its path through the world before you make contact. And then kick it… gently…’
He had moved to around thirty yards away, and Kitty imagined what she wanted it to do and then pulled her right leg back and swung it towards the ball. It spun, like the earth in motion, whizzing around, and she could have sworn she saw the kinetic energy she had helped create. It lifted in a smooth parabola and then landed just in front of the right foot of her father.
He was smiling. ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘Not bad at all. You just might have inherited some of your old dad’s ball skills.’
Kitty couldn’t help smiling back.
They spent the next hour kicking the ball to each other, and Billy showed her how to create even more energy by tapping it and giving it a sharp spin at the same time. Kitty watched, delighted, as the ball curved away from her and then back in towards Billy.
It was dark by the time they finished, and with no floodlights the pitch was black and the stands were emptily eerie.
‘Time to call it a night?’ said Billy.
She nodded, wondering what would happen next. Would they just say goodbye or would he want to spend more time with her? She hoped it was the latter, but she hated feeling so vulnerable. What if he just wanted to get away from her? All her life, she’d tried to protect herself from needing him, and she thought she’d succeeded.
‘What about a hot chocolate?’ he said. ‘I’ll bring you to a little late-night café on the other side of Sandycove.’
Kitty found herself nodding, not ready to say goodnight to him. ‘I’d love to,’ she said.