On the Edge of the Loch: A Psychological Novel set in Ireland (21 page)

Then it was over. Already into her departure, she reached back, took the photograph from his fingers. A moment later she was racing down the long, loud passageway, Leo in witness to her youthful form departing the dungeon-like labyrinth.

‘Darling,’ Peggy shouted, emerging from a side corridor. Lenny stopped, threw her arms around her, then bounded up the steps to ground level.

* * *

‘Where’s Dermot?’ she asked, re-entering the apartment.

‘The bar, probably. I couldn’t stop him,’ Emer said. ‘You look wrecked.’

‘Could you go and get him, please.’

‘No, I won’t! I want to know: Did you tell them?’

‘Tell them what?’

‘Stop talking shite, Len. It’s Emer O’Hare you’re talking to now.’

‘You mean about the shrink?’

‘You didn’t tell them. You’re so dishonest. And daft. You promised you’d tell them.’

‘The ridiculous things he said? He’s a quack, you know that.’

‘No, I don’t. You’re the quack! Think you’re intelligent but you’re not. You’re a coward; you’re running away from the problem. Go back over and tell them! I’m serious. Or I will. You’re twenty-one, not twelve!’

‘Oh shut up.’

‘I won’t shut up! If you don’t tell them, I will! They care about you. They’re all really lovely people, nothing like you made me believe. You lied!’ Emer, flushed and fiery, stalked after Lenny. ‘Don’t walk off! Have to get your way, don’t you. Not this time. What if you collapsed, or had an attack? Or if something worse happened to you in America?’

‘Mind your own business. What do you care?’ Lenny shouted. Just then a look of remorse gripped her. ‘Emer, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You care more than anybody. I did tell them. I told them. Can we talk about it later; it’s too hard right now?’

‘You’re lying. You’re fobbing me off.’

‘I told you, I did tell them.’ Lenny dropped onto the bed, head bowed. ‘I asked Leo and Peg if we could talk without my – without Charles there. That’s the only way I wanted to do it. We talked in the cellar, the three of us; it was really hard. Ask them if you don’t believe me, the phone’s beside you.’

‘How did they take it?’ Emer asked deviously.

‘Made me promise to ring them after I see the doctor in a fortnight, tell them what he says about the tests. They both offered to go with me, but I told them you’d be there. You will, won’t you?’

Emer’s hug was long and consoling, and vigorously reciprocated. ‘Sorry for shouting at you,’ she said. ‘I just want you to get alright. Know how much I care about you, Len? Do you? Do you really know? Answer me.’

Lenny nodded, sad-faced.

‘Hey, I know! Put off America till next summer. I could go with you, get leave or something. We could have great craic. Give yourself time to get a second opinion, or even treatment if they say you need it.’

‘I’ll definitely think seriously about that. I will.’

‘Okay, now the bad news: Wolfman’s acting the eejit again. Says he’s staying here till Monday; he’s off work till Tuesday.’

‘Neanderthal. What’s the matter with him?’

‘Your dad rang and asked if we’d stay for the weekend, as his guests. Dermo told him he would. He said he doesn’t give two shites what you say, he’s not afraid of you, and that it’s his car not yours.’

‘He’s over there now, stuffing himself with food and drink,’ Lenny said. ‘We shouldn’t have brought him. We should have got rid of him when we thought of it.’

‘We kidnapped him, remember? We’re criminals. They’ll have posters out with our faces on them. Why don’t we just stay, Len. Might be fun. You think?’

‘I can’t, I have the psych prep test on Monday, I need to study. And Tuesday morning we both have the maths test.’

‘Could I forget. We better go, you’re right. I’m going to fail maths, I know it.’

‘I’ll help you. How about we work on calculus tonight, for an hour, even if it’s late when we get back, and do trig and statistics tomorrow afternoon?’

‘That’d be brilliant; I need it. And, Len, I didn’t mean to get angry at you.’

‘Don’t worry. Look, I’ve a plan for Dermot. You find him; he won’t be anywhere except where there’s food and beer. Tell him that last night he forced himself on me; he stole my virginity – ’

‘You mean he . . . you let . . . Len?!’

‘No, silly! Just say that. Tell him he forced himself on me and that I’m certain I’m pregnant and I’m up here very upset, and I’m planning to tell my father any minute now.’

‘That’s shite, I couldn’t say that. It’s stupid. Pregnant, one day after doing it? Not that you ever did it with anyone. Right, Len?’

Lenny rolled her eyes. ‘Just do it, will you?’

‘No. He’s a dope but not that big a dope.’

‘Men are just big little boys, you know that. They know nothing about these things. And Wolfman Connolly knows even less.’

‘Yeah, they think a missed period is when you skip a chapter in your history book. That’s one reason they don’t interest me: they’re stupid. Think he’ll fall for it?’

‘Wolfman? He’ll fall for it. We’ll get our way.’

‘I’ll give it a shot. And, Len,’ Emer filled her pause with a sigh, ‘I don’t like him being with us; it shouldn’t be.’

* * *

Dermot skulked into the room. ‘Y’all right, Lenny.’

On the edge of the bed, Lenny sat bent over, arms across her stomach, rocking back and forth. ‘Close the door, Dermot, please, will you,’ she said.

‘Em . . . I . . Lenny, I – ’

‘Don’t! Don’t, please. Saying you’re sorry won’t make it go away,’ she whimpered. ‘You’re coming with me to speak to Daddy? Or are you leaving me to do it on my own? You need to tell me this minute.’

‘Em, eh . . . are you . . . like, are you – ’

‘Sure? Am I sure?! You have the nerve to ask me that? Am I sure?’ She lay over and buried her face in a pillow. ‘You don’t feel anything for me, do you?’

‘No, like I, I do. I didn’t mean, I swear I don’t even – ’

‘Emer! Emer! Ring Daddy, please; ask him to come over here.’

‘Brute!’ Emer snapped at Dermot as she lifted the phone. ‘May I speak to Mr Quin, please.’

Dermot’s gaping mouth tried to make words.

Before he could give any utterance to his turmoil Emer intruded. ‘Len, do you think it’d be better to wait a few days, see how you feel? Or not?’

‘Yeah, yeah, like, that’s like what I think,’ Dermot said. ‘That’d be the best thing, what Emer said.’

‘Couldn’t do that,’ Lenny whimpered. ‘Daddy should know now. It’s only proper that I tell him, out of honour. Oooohh, ooohh. Why did you do this to me, Dermot Connolly, why, why? Ooooohhhh.’

‘Er, y’all right, Lenny; I didn’t mean . . . are y’all right?’ He turned to Emer. ‘What’ll we do?’

‘What will
you
do? Stupid . . . man. She look alright to you, does she? I saw you last night. Sick, what you were trying to do to her. Beast!’

‘I swear I never meant, I can’t even remember. I swear. What’ll happen to me? I didn’t – ’

‘Oooohh,’ Lenny wailed. ‘I was looking forward so much to going up onto Mweelrea.’

‘We can go, Lenny, now, we can go,’ Dermot said. ‘I can bring the car around to the front door for you. And you can even drive if you want.’

Emer put her arm around Lenny. ‘Come on, Len, let’s go to Mweelrea now, then back to Dublin, and think about things for a few days, see how you feel. Look at it this way: if you tell your dad now, what’ll he do? You know his temper. He’ll go stark raving mad; probably shoot Dermot in the head with his shotgun, from up close. After all, you are the only daughter he has. What do you say we hold off telling him, wait and see?’

‘I don’t know. Dermot, what’ll I do? What?’

‘Ah yeah definitely, definitely what Emer said, do definitely do that, I think.’ Dermot’s words stole his breath. ‘See how you feel next Tuesday, or Thursday.’

‘Oh, I need someone to help me. What should I do, what should I do?’ Hugging a pillow to her midriff, she whispered dreamily: ‘Mweelrea, maybe that would help me; see the mountain, see the water, drive up the back road, probably help me decide.’

Dermot sprang up. ‘I’ll get the car. Want to drive, Lenny, do you? I’ll let you.’

‘Okay, we’re all agreed, let’s go.’ Emer turned to Dermot. ‘Get Len’s bag. And make sure the car is warm and the Neil Young tape is in the player.’

Dermot scurried off. Emer bolted the room door. Then locked together the two girls fell into the bed, in rapture.

‘You are rotten to the core, Len Quin!’ Emer glared into Lenny’s thrilled visage, then pulled closer until her lips kissed Lenny’s. ‘That’s why I love you.’

‘You’re right, I am’ Lenny said. ‘Very bad sometimes. And Emer O’Hare brings out the worst in me.’

‘And the best. You said so.’

Soon the purple Beetle was rumbling toward Mweelrea, leaving Claire Abbey and Aranroe in its wake. After touring the lower slopes, the trio set out for Dublin. Entirely as Lenny Quin had orchestrated.

15

‘Get back! Get back!’ His feet and hands welded to the skull of the summit. He pleaded in his mind for it all to be a dream, and pleaded with her. But to her, it seemed, he did not exist.

He shimmied closer, fixated, whispering her name, aware that any move could send them both to the rocks. In this slow dissolution he realised too that there was nothing more he could do. Now his body stopped responding, senses turned off, the furore silenced. And in what seemed like the next moment, he felt again the gale in his face, in his eyes, its racket in his brain. If it was a moment he’d been away, it had been long enough for all the pictures of his life to play out.

Now her beating dress commanded his focus. His body clawed back another foot of rock, a foot closer to her, almost near enough to touch her. If he struck and screwed up, doom. He sprawled lower to the ground, called her name, asked her to come to him.

There was no fear in her, that was clear, just a calm beyond his comprehension. Then cotton whipped his fingers, flew past. He reset his hands, hoping they were still fast enough. And once again, like lightning in mad flight the cloth snapped in front of him, chaotic movement impossible to predict. Second miss. No more deaths to his name, he told himself, nor could he fail to stop one; he owed it to a sixteen-year-old Latino Jesus, even more to Joel Vida. Just one half-chance, he’d take it, go for her, even if life ended for them both. That was the deal.

He braced his boot to a new anchor, set for the final try, and lunged toward her. But the anchor gave way, sent him slipping out slowly, feet first, hands digging against gravel and stone, until his boot found a ridge. He recomposed, looked directly up at her. Her hand opened out, called for him to take her.

With no conscious forethought he pitched forward, clamped her wrist, and crashed back to earth. But he was sliding again, out to the abyss, anchorless, scratching desperately, gaining speed. Could he let her go? Save her? Save himself? He was losing ground.

He let her go.

But in that atom of time, time stopped, and an instantaneous force re-locked him to her. His boot stopped hard against a divot. In reflex, he kicked powerfully, forced his body into an inward roll, still harnessed to her.

Then he saw her cotton dress, felt it in his hands, just the dress, billowing, beating, blowing over him. Was he dead already, gone, he asked, being seduced by a rogue reality? Tumbling toward Atlantic rocks? Already there? Was it over?

But next he was under Lenny Quin, on the ground, weightless, and the wind didn’t roar, a state without turmoil or fear, nothing pulling at him, and he heard the words of Joel Vida:
In life, darkness, but in darkness always one star to aim for.
He was ice cold now, spread-eagled, soaked in sweat, the world screaming in his ears once again, Lenny’s body manacled to his own. Alive. Secure.

Drained and disoriented, they crawled off the summit, made their way down the trail, stopping frequently to rest and touch the earth. At the Druidic stones they both fell onto the metal bench, a long, trembling silence over them before either found words.

‘I don’t know why. I don’t know. I’m deeply sorry.’ Her gaze stayed on the gravel at her feet. ‘I felt I was lost for good, that moment.’

‘Fuck! A moment?! You don’t know? How close that was? We could be stone fucking dead right now. Me too, not just you. Maybe we are fucking dead. Fucking ghosts.’

‘I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry, how enormously grateful, I am. I think it was the height.’

‘Fucking bullshit. What’s going on, Lenny? That happened before, didn’t it? Don’t take me for a dumb-ass.’

She shook intensely, said nothing.

‘I’m not dumb. Those things don’t just start. You looked like you were out of your fucking mind. What is it? Tell me now.’

‘Not now, Tony . . . Let’s hold off, please. Till we feel more able.’

He retreated. The bliss he’d seen in her terrified him. As though she wanted nothing more than to go to another world. He’d seen crack addicts the same way. With her it was something else. She knew what it was, he knew that. He’d find out, but could he deal with it, any of this shit, any more of it?

They left the Druidic stones and walked until they reached the Seaview Café, lower down, where they sat in facing chairs and drank tea. Out of fractured intimacy they retrieved a composure of sorts, eventually. But what had happened went on terrorising him. He kept his darkest thoughts to himself, and his words few and measured.

After a while it came back to him that he had begun this day with a mission, to find out if anything was left between them. He could go there. But why? And about what he had done on the summit, when he was powerless, what god gave him that? Worth celebrating. He’d deal later with what he’d learned this day, and consider what he’d lost.

Lenny’s voice broke into his thoughts, a new voice that belied the trauma of a few hours before.

‘Tony, as I said earlier, I feel it’s only fair that you should know what I want to tell you. About me, who I am.’

‘If you mean about the guy you’re seeing, forget it. Don’t need it.’

‘There is no guy. How many times do you need me to say this? Why is it you can’t trust my word?’

‘Little things. Like dozens of photographs of a man, one man, you and him, his clothes on your bed, your secret disappearances, drugs. Simple shit like that.’