For Once In My Life

Chapter 32

The five-a-siders couldn’t get a seat outside in the courtyard of The Island but managed to find a small, private snug, with two long benches on either side of the table.

Tom bought a round, returning from the bar with a pint of Guinness in both hands, a gin balanced between them, the tonic in his top pocket, and two packets of crisps between his teeth. ‘One minute,’ he said, heading back to the bar to collect two margaritas for Shazza and Kitty.

Being on a team bonded you instantly, thought Kitty. The winning, the losing, it didn’t matter, you’d done it together and whether you were commiserating or celebrating, you all felt the same.

The Sandycove Seafarers shared stories and confidences as though they’d known each other forever. Even Tara was relaxed, telling them about being a carer for her nan and how sport was the only thing that was just for her. ‘My nan would ask me how I’d got on that day, and if I’d won the hockey or the athletics or the Gaelic football, and when I’d say yes, she’d have the biggest smile on her face. When she died, she was buried with my GAA jersey on, Dublin colours… everyone else was like, sure, wouldn’t she want to be in her best dress, but I knew she wanted to be playing sport like me.’ She raised her gin and tonic. ‘To Nan! I love you, Nan!’

‘We love you, Nan,’ everyone echoed.

Rory told them about going to college to do accountancy but hating it so much, he used to hide in the toilets of University College Dublin, so he didn’t have to go into the lectures. ‘It didn’t strike me until later that I just needn’t go at all. I could stay in bed. Only then did my anxiety improve.’ He turned to Tom. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Anyway, it’s all turned out for the best.’

Tom shook his head. ‘What a waste of a year,’ he said. ‘All that lying you did. Mum was so worried about you. And then you announce you’re going on the Ballymaloe cooking course and off you go…’

‘And now look at me, food entrepreneur. You’ve got to follow your passion, have you not?’

Shazza was nodding. ‘My passion was always journalism. My dream was to write for the Times or the Independent. I’d grown up reading them, hoping one day I would have a byline. And the thrill… every time I saw my name, I kept staring at it… and then… I don’t know… after everything that happened with Mr Unmensh, handing in my notice and getting the job on the Sandycove Newsletter, I’ve realised what is important. And it’s not bylines or politics, it’s being here, having fun… it’s like my ambitions have changed. I just want to be happy, you know?’

They all knew. Nodding and raising their glasses, they agreed that happiness was the best ambition to have.

‘Since Paddy left us,’ said Tom, ‘that’s all I want too. I want to have a life he’d be happy to see me have. Which is why I made the move back to animal care. Academia has its plus points, but I missed meeting the animals and I missed chatting to their owners and just being part of a community again. Paddy wouldn’t want me working long hours or trying to make as much money as possible…’

‘Lucky that,’ said Rory, making Shazza laugh. He grinned at her. ‘I like to drink Guinness and sit in pubs because I know Paddy would like to see me being happy.’

Tom shook his head, but he was trying not to smile. ‘I’m just glad that we had Paddy for as long as we did. He was a brilliant brother.’

Rory had stopped laughing and was looking serious. ‘We were lucky to know him,’ he said.

‘We’ve still got each other, though,’ said Tom, looking straight at him.

Rory nodded. ‘I’m lucky to have had two brilliant big brothers…’

Shazza wiped away a tear and then laid her head on Rory’s shoulder. ‘I love you two,’ she said. ‘If I had a brother, then I would like him to be the two of you. Pity all I have is Shona, who’s been my nemesis since the day I was born. She hated me on sight, and the hatred has only increased with age. God knows how much she will hate me when we’re old. I’m going to have to stay out of her way before she beats me up with her Zimmer frame.’

Tom was laughing, looking at Rory. ‘He doesn’t look too happy,’ he teased.

Rory was looking suddenly all innocent.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Kitty, quietly to Tom.

‘I think it was the fact Shazza said she wanted him to be her brother…’ He laughed again. ‘He’s been brother-zoned… not quite what he wanted.’

‘Pity Shazza is off men,’ said Kitty. ‘Rory is the exact opposite of the usual ones she goes for. She likes the horrible ones, the emotionally stunted, the unavailable, the ones with addiction issues or commitment problems.’

Tom laughed. ‘I’ve decided that you have to be careful with who you fall in love with,’ he said. ‘You need to mind yourself, not shut yourself off, but mind yourself, because life is too short and you don’t want to get stuck for too long down some kind of rabbit hole. We tend to find someone and cling on for dear life rather than addressing or asking if this person is right for us, but you’re only wasting precious time. You know that quote, tell me what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’

Kitty nodded.

‘I thought about that a lot when Paddy died. Life is precious. I don’t want to waste it.’

‘So what are you doing with your wild and precious life?’

‘Spending it wisely,’ he said. ‘With the right people. People who make the world a better place and who I can learn from…’

Kitty pulled a face. ‘All the time?’ she said. ‘I mean, even now?’ She laughed, self-deprecatingly. ‘I think you should go and find someone else to talk to.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You think I am not exactly where I want to be, talking to the person I want to talk to?’

A strange and wonderful feeling rippled through Kitty’s body, and she found herself smiling at him again. ‘Me too,’ she said.

‘You have to appreciate the moment because each moment is precious.’ Tom looked at her. ‘So, what are your ambitions…?’

‘Her only ambition is to get Dave to come home,’ said Shazza, butting in. ‘She’s only wasting time until the prodigal idiot returns.’

Perhaps it was the drink or the adrenaline from the win, but Kitty realised she didn’t care if Dave never returned. She liked this new freedom to meet new people. She liked drinking in pubs and playing football and having fun. Worse, she had a suspicion that when he came back, she’d have to give it all up. ‘I don’t care if he does come back,’ she announced. ‘I’m sort of thinking I hope he doesn’t… I quite like living in a house where I don’t have to pick up someone’s underpants or hear them slurp their tea.’

‘Hooray!’ said Shazza. ‘You are officially emancipated. Welcome back from the dark side.’

Kitty glanced at Tom, who was smiling at her, a look on his face which seemed affectionate and friendly, as though he was pleased for her and that picking up Dave’s underpants was in her past.

Later, they all walked home, dropping Tara first as she lived closest to the village. Shazza and Rory walked on ahead, Shazza’s arm through Rory’s.

‘Is that a brotherly link or a romantic link?’ asked Tom.

‘Romantic,’ said Kitty, pleased that Shazza had decided a life of a nun wasn’t for her. Her celibacy had lasted for an impressively long time, thought Kitty.

‘Maybe she’s on men again?’ said Tom as Rory and Shazza started snogging.

‘I think you might be right,’ said Kitty. ‘She’s off off men… didn’t take long.’

‘Come on,’ said Tom, ‘let’s leave them to it and I’ll walk you home…’

It seemed so right to slip her arm through his, as they wove their way along the streets of Sandycove, talking and laughing.

At her door, they stood outside, and Kitty found herself staring up at his handsome face, he was staring right back at her, both of them grinning. He brushed her hair from her forehead, his fingers feeling soft and warm, and just as she was thinking how much she wanted his fingers to touch her again, they were kissing each other… and it wasn’t remotely like kissing Dave, with his hard, puckery lips and downy face, the thing he did with his tongue and all that saliva as though he was playing some repulsive party game. She hadn’t realised that kissing could be so nice. She’d put up with crap kissing while this, with Tom, was an entirely better experience.

‘I’m so glad you said what you said…’ he said, eventually.

Kitty looked at him. ‘About what?’

‘About not caring if Dave came back. I was getting worried…’

‘Why?’

‘Because I thought you were waiting for him and you’d never give me a chance…’

She was suddenly suffused with joy and happiness. ‘I like everything that has happened since he left.’ She looked straight up at Tom, and that fizzing feeling of happiness spread through her.

‘I’ve liked you since I first met you at the meeting in the community centre,’ he said. ‘I was thinking who is this gorgeous woman? Why haven’t I seen her around before…?’

‘I’ve been under house arrest with Dave,’ she joked.

‘You don’t mind if I release you then?’

‘No, I don’t mind at all…’ She pulled him inside and that was that. A good night turned into a fabulous night. And playing football just got very interesting indeed.