Tom
PART OF ME WANTS TO go back into the party, so I don’t have to think any more about Bill’s offer. A part of me wants to stand here with him, forever, talking gently in the quiet of the night.
‘Listen, Bill, I’m so grateful for the offer. I’ll always thank you for it.’
It’s getting cold. He cuts me off.
‘Thomas, listen now. Life is full of blessings and opportunity, you know? You deserve a chance. This is your chance.’
Oh dear God, when he calls me Thomas. My chest rises up, as though my heart and my lungs are lining up to leave my body. I believe everything he says. Of course I believe him. After all, wasn’t he a blessing that came to me? He keeps trying.
‘Life keeps giving, if you’re taking.’
What I wouldn’t give to just say yes. To be irresponsible, to let things happen, whatever they may be.
Life will give if I take. Do I want to be happy or not?
It all comes down on top of me. Each of the dark clouds surrounds me.
Their silver linings cut me open. It’s getting hot.
I’m getting hot. Hopefully it’s dark enough that he won’t see I am biting back tears.
‘I have a lot of responsibilities here, Bill. The family, you know, we only have each other.’
What I want to tell him is that I can’t manage anymore.
That I want to go to New York so that I can stop carrying the burden of being the eldest son.
So that I can stop being an O’Leary. So that, perhaps, I could leave your memory on the dock, along with my whole life and everything I’ve ever done, and become completely new.
I don’t know whether it’s the beer or that I love him so dearly, but I feel I could tell him all this.
I wonder if he can hear my feelings boiling within me?
‘What does Betty make of Anna?’ I ask him. ‘Be honest.’
It isn’t what he expected to hear. To be honest, it isn’t what I expected to ask.
But now it’s out there, I feel it’s worth knowing.
If I am going to leave, I need to know there are people here who will look after my siblings.
Bill pulls on his collar, uncomfortable, and takes a long drink from his bottle.
‘To be honest? Betty isn’t mad on her, to be honest. I think “intense” was the word she used.’
I laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound like despair. Poor Anna never chooses the right person. Bill goes on.
‘Of course, I’ve nothing against her. She’s a lovely girl. And it isn’t that Betty doesn’t like her! Just that they mightn’t be very suited to each other.’
He is trying to cover his tracks. It’s fine. I understand. Anna is an awful lot to manage, especially without the benefit of having grown up with her. I knew Anna when she was a sweet, gentle child. Betty has only ever known her after years of disaster. Really, we know two very different people.
Anna has always been the type to have fixations. I’ve watched over the years as her boundaries waned away to nothing. ’Tis easy enough for me to see her behaviour as passionate. ’Tis easy enough for Betty to receive it as escalated, unpredictable and unwanted.
‘It’s fine, Bill. I know she’s a lot to handle. It’s hard on her since our mother died.’
‘It’s been hard on ye all, I’d say, since yer poor mother died. God bless her and save her.’
He puts a hand on my shoulder, and I remember lies I had forgotten. It comes as a stab to the chest when I realise that Bill doesn’t know the real me. He doesn’t even know when my mother died. Inwardly, I wish there was a woman here, so that I could be hugged.
This isn’t how I felt at the beginning of the night, in the house.
When I was proud and warmed by all of our friends, and all I have achieved.
I am suddenly sobered by the realisation that there is so much I haven’t achieved.
So much trouble that I have left to brew, and which is now boiling over on us all.
And suddenly, a way out. Bill’s offer. It’s a siren, screaming.
I want Bill to take me in his arms now. I want him to take it all away.
To take me down to his field and put a shovel in my hand and tell me it’s all finished.
To send me on the boat to America and tell me he will sort out everything here.
I am exhausted. I want him to tell me I don’t need to be a big brother to them anymore.
To tell me I am forgiven, and that nobody is cross.
He brings me back inside. At the door, he pauses, just for a moment. He goes to say something, but stops himself, putting a hand on the back of my neck and squeezing. For a moment, everything is still. I fear this delicate moment is the last true stillness I will ever know.