Chapter 8
Faith was dreaming. It was a beautiful summer’s day in Inishbeg Cove.
Gulls arced and soared above them in the azure-blue sky as she and Lucy ran along the sand towards the waves that broke gently on the shoreline.
They flung off their flip-flops and jumped over the waves as they broke and hissed along the sand.
In the distance Elizabeth was perched on a flat rock holding their towels and keeping an eye on them.
She was always there, watching over them.
Faith waved to her grandmother and Elizabeth’s face widened into a smile as she waved back to her, the lines at the sides of her eyes like sunbeams radiating from her face.
Faith woke with a start, her heart racing and her body sweaty.
She looked around the bedroom and sighed happily.
She was in Elizabeth’s cottage in Inishbeg Cove, it was summertime and they were on their school holidays.
Then it hit her. Her grandmother was gone.
Grief rammed into her like a runaway train.
She looked across at her older sister in the adjacent bed, and saw she was awake too.
‘How did you sleep?’ she asked.
‘Not great. I just can’t believe she’s gone,’ Lucy replied, her voice choked.
‘I had a dream about her. We were down in the cove, playing in the waves like we used to when we were small. It felt so real…’ Faith felt crushed as she recalled it so vividly.
‘Let’s get up,’ Lucy said. ‘We’ve a busy day ahead.’
They climbed out of bed and headed downstairs.
They saw their mother was already in the kitchen, seated at the table, her head in her hands.
She was still in her pyjamas, which was the biggest shock for them: she never allowed anyone to see her in her nightclothes.
Madeleine was always immaculately presented, but sitting here with her hair fuzzy from sleep, she looked frightful.
‘Mum,’ Faith began softly.
Madeleine startled; she clearly hadn’t heard them come in. She looked up at them, seeming surprised to see them there, as if she had forgotten where she was.
‘Did you manage to sleep?’ Madeleine asked, sitting up straight.
Faith shook her head. ‘Not really. I feel like I’m on autopilot. None of this feels real.’
‘We just need to get through the wake tomorrow and then the funeral, then I think I’ll sleep for a week,’ Lucy replied, stifling a yawn.
‘Is Kyle coming today?’ Madeleine probed.
Their mother missed nothing, Faith thought. She clearly thought it a little strange that Lucy’s husband hadn’t come down from Dublin yet.
Faith shot an anxious look in her sister’s direction; she wasn’t sure how much Lucy had told their mother about her marital troubles.
Lucy shook her head.
‘I thought he’d be here to support you,’ Madeleine went on.
‘He’s busy in work – he has a big deal closing so he couldn’t get the time off.’
‘So I’m not the only one under pressure…’ Madeleine remarked, nodding in solidarity. If there was anything Madeleine approved of, it was people prioritising their work.
Faith noticed that bags hung beneath her mother’s eyes and her lines looked deeper than usual. Madeleine seemed preoccupied, like she had something bigger on her mind.
‘Is everything okay, Mum?’ Faith asked in concern.
‘I need to go to Dublin,’ she announced suddenly.
‘To Dublin?’ Faith was shocked. ‘But we have to make the funeral arrangements today and we need to start getting the house ready if we’re going to have the wake tomorrow…’
‘I know, girls, but I had my boss on the phone this morning. I really need to sort out the issue with the books. I wouldn’t go unless it was urgent.’
‘What could possibly be more important than being here?’ Lucy demanded.
‘As I already explained, the books for Howard O’Brien’s book launch are stuck in customs.’
Lucy looked at her blankly. ‘And?’
‘Well, if I don’t sort this mess out, he’ll be at a book signing with no books to sign. The Taoiseach is going to be there, and the President too. It’s a disaster.’
Faith blinked back tears. ‘Mum, do you really think that’s more urgent than saying a proper farewell to Elizabeth?’
‘I’ll be back again by nightfall so I’ll be here for the wake tomorrow, and I can say my goodbyes then.’
‘I can’t believe you’d even think about going at a time like this.’
Lucy rolled her eyes contemptuously. ‘Let her go if she thinks her job is more important. Don’t upset yourself, Faith.’
‘I can’t help it,’ Faith said, wiping away her tears. ‘Mum, how can you be so selfish? You arrived too late to say goodbye to Nanna and now you’re not going to be here to help us plan her funeral?’
‘I’m sorry, girls, it’s a really difficult situation for me.’
‘Are we supposed to feel sorry for you?’ Lucy asked in disbelief.
‘Of course not, but I was hoping you might understand my dilemma.’
‘Elizabeth did so much for us growing up; she was like a mother to us when you weren’t. You should show a bit more appreciation for her,’ Faith chided.
‘Of course I appreciate her,’ she spluttered, ‘but what use will I be to you both today anyway? You won’t even miss me.’
‘It would just be good to have your support,’ Faith whispered, her bottom lip trembling.
‘I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can tonight, no matter how late it is. I’ll be there for the wake tomorrow.’
Lucy set her jaw and fixed her gaze on her mother. ‘If you leave here and go to Dublin, I will never speak to you again,’ she threatened.
Faith turned to her older sister. ‘Lucy, don’t say that,’ Faith said, biting nervously on her bottom lip. She found the whole exchange excruciating: she hated any form of conflict, she always had.
Lucy folded her arms across her chest and locked eyes with her mother.
‘I mean it,’ she went on, throwing down the gauntlet. ‘If you go back to Dublin today for work, you’re out of my life forever.’