Pack Up the Moon (16 page)

“Fine:’ He smiled again. “Actually I’m glad you came to see me — it saves me a trip.”

“Oh yeah?” I said intrigued.

“I was thinking of going away for a while,” he told me. I panicked. “Where?” I asked, praying he would say Bray rather than Bali.

“I’m thinking of taking a sabbatical to travel, see a bit

of the world God created. I bang on about it enough — it’s time I experienced it.”

Now I was really panicking. I couldn’t lose him too. “You want to travel or you want to run away?” I asked, devastated that he was leaving me.

“Ouch!” he said good-naturedly. “And the answer is I don’t know. But I have to work things out. I can’t keep carrying on the way I am, my heart not in it. I need to find what I’ve lost.”

I wanted to tell him he was talking rubbish and not to

go, that he could work out his problems here, that I would help him, but I knew I couldn’t help and that he needed to get away and find the peace he was looking for.

“What if you don’t find what you’ve lost?” was my only question.

“Then I move on,” he said.

He was doing the right thing. I knew it but it was killing me. “I think you’re brave. I’ll really miss you.” I was smiling, but tears were rolling down my face.

He wiped them away and held my face in his hands. “I love you, Emma,” he said.

“I love you too, Noel,” I responded.

We hugged and over his shoulder I saw the students

sniggering and whispering about the priest and his

girlfriend. If only they understood his position, maybe his pain wouldn’t be such a joke.

*

Clo decided we weren’t spending enough time together

as a group. She organised a night out.

“Dinner, a movie, a few drinks,” she said.

“A movie,” I repeated. “Don’t you mean a film?” I enquired sarcastically.

“Em, get with the times. Everyone calls films movies these days. Jesus, you’re such a granny!”

I laughed. “I’m twenty-seven,” I pointed out.

“That’s the problem,” she counselled. “So, are you in?”

I enquired as to who was going.

“You, me, Tom, his friend Mick and Sean.”

I wasn’t convinced. “Sean said he’d go?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly.

“OK, so this is not you and Tom trying to set me up with his friend?”

She shook her head. “Oh, Ern, always so suspicious! Nobody’s trying to set you up. It’s just a night out.”

I phoned Sean. He confirmed he would be there so I agreed to go.

We had arranged to meet in a pizza place at half six, just in time for the early bird menu, as Mick kept reminding us. Sean was late. I was beginning to think he wasn’t coming and this caused great personal concern as

Clo and Tom were still at the fawning phase and Mick

was boring the arse off me.

“You know what the greatest thing about Generations is?” he asked.

I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

“No,” I replied.

“Cultural diversity,” he stated and slapped his hand on the table as he spoke to emphasise the importance of it.

“Really?” I smiled while trying to grab Clo’s attention. This was difficult. Tom was whispering into her neck —

she was miles away. I was stuck. I looked towards the door. It wasn’t opening.

“You see the Star Trek crew had a Vulcan but that’s it. The rest were human. Generations has a Klingon, a Betazoid, an Android and Colm Meaney, which is so cool. After The Commitments, he’s really got out there and made something of himself. I mean, where are the other flickers?”

“Good question,” I said while sneaking another look at my watch and planning to punch Sean’s face in. Half an hour and fourteen Star Trek Next Generation plotlines

later he arrived.

“Sorry, I’m really sorry, I got caught up,” he announced as he pushed in beside me, much to Mick’s annoyance. “This is Mick.” I smiled at him.

They shook hands.

“Mick was just telling me all about Star Trek, The Next Generation,” I said, smiling.

Before Sean got a chance to comment, Mick asked him if he liked Star Trek.

“No, I think it’s a load of bollocks,” he said, smiling. Mick was thankfully quiet after that.

We went to see a Silence of the Lambs rerun at the IFC. I sat between Sean and Mick. Mick started to whisper in my ear — he was a talker. I hated talkers. I mean, what’s the bloody point in going to see a movie if you’re going

to talk the whole way through it? It was driving me insane so I kicked Sean. Mick started whispering again, telling me some bullshit fact about serial killers.

Sean leaned across me. “What? You’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Mick sat back uncomfortably. “Nothing.

“Shit, sorry, I thought you were saying something.” Sean smiled at me while I tried to hide my grin. Mick didn’t whisper after that.

We went for a drink, insisting it would be a quick one. Mick was tired so he went home. I sighed with relief. Once in the pub, after the movie post mortem was completed, Clodagh and Tom announced they were moving in together. I couldn’t believe it, it had been so quick, but I was happy for them.

“Why not? We could all be dead tomorrow”

Sean and I congratulated them and stayed on to celebrate

their good news. They left together and we shared a taxi home.

“It’s a bit quick:’ he thought aloud.

“When you know, you know,” I replied.

He looked out the window. “How do you know, Emma?”

“You just do,” I responded.

“When?”

I was confused. “What do you mean?”

“When do you know?”

“You just do.”

He remained quiet for the rest of our journey. I looked out at the passing lights and daydreamed about being Clarice

Starling and kicking Hannibal Lecter’s ass while Sean sat

silently looking ahead. Obviously, I hadn’t a clue what I was talking about.

*

A month later my parents held a going-away party for

Noel. They had a banner in the sitting-room that read

“Bon Voyage, Noel”. There were vol au vents, sausages and sandwiches everywhere, making it difficult to find a place to sit. Sean, Clo and Tom came. Anne and Richard were meant to but he got the flu and Anne was playing

nursemaid. I looked around the room at my parents’ and Noel’s friends, the banner and the food. It reminded me of the inheritance party and I thought of John for maybe

the first time that month. The guilt made me feel a little weary. I needed air. I went into the garden.

Sean followed.

“Missing him already?” he enquired.

“Noel? No, he’ll be back,” I responded, not turning to face him.

He walked over to me. “I’m nearly finished the book.” I asked him for the fifth time that week if I could read

it.

“Not for a while. You’ll be the first though,” he assured me.

I wasn’t content with this and begged on the basis that

he was nearly finished. I was dying to see what kept him locked away for hours on end. He thought about it for a minute.

“You won’t like it. It centres around a soccer team …”

Oh Christ, I’m going to have to read a soccer book!

I must have drifted off for a few moments because

although his mouth was moving I wasn’t really registering

the words.

I can’t believe I haven’t thought about John for so long. “You didn’t hear a word I’ve just said,” he challenged. “Soccer?” I said. “A soccer team in a small country

village,” I continued hopefully.

He smiled. “Don’t worry — you don’t need to be Alex Ferguson to enjoy the story.”

“Right, great, I can’t wait.”

Who the hell is Alex Ferguson?

*

Everyone left and there we were, a family standing in front of one another wondering who would cry first. Noel’s flight left at ten. It was seven and the hours were counting down way too fast for my poor mother. She made herself busy cleaning plates while I swept. Dad and Noel went into his study. They were there a while. Mom was trying not to cry.

“He’ll be OK,” I tried to reassure us both.

“He’s heading into the frigging jungle,” she said, a tear escaping her brimming eyes.

“Cuba is hardly the jungle.”

“Bloody Communists.”

“Mom!” I called out, distressed at her inability to embrace a PC attitude.

“It’s uncivilised.”

“Jesus! You don’t know anything about Cuba,” I said, disgusted.

“And you do,” she noted sarcastically.

She was right. I hadn’t a clue but I wasn’t about to let her racism stand. “It’s got some nice beaches,” I mumbled trying to remember something from The Travel Show

“Great. He can die on a nice beach.”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“Am she asked shrilly.

“He’ll be fine,” I said, sorry I’d opened my mouth.

“That’s all we can hope for. He’s only ever been to Spain on a family holiday and even then he had the runs

the entire week. Why couldn’t he just stay in Europe like everyone else?”

I exhaled and shook my head much like I did when

my class disappointed me.

“You know I’m right,” she said. She sat down at the kitchen table. “Why couldn’t he be like a normal man and get some young one pregnant and have to marry her like

Mary Matthews’ son. He has three kids now and he works in the bank.”

She was crying so the word bank came out as “baaa …

ank”.

“He has to do what he feels is right,” I said, not believing it because like my mother I wanted him to be

like Mary Matthews’ son too.

“Do you think he’ll ever come back to us?”

“Of course he will.”

I put away the brush and sat beside her, putting my arm around her shoulder.

“I just wish life wasn’t so hard,” she said in the small voice she had left.

“Me too, Mom,” I said, hugging her. “We all do.”

*

The airport was a nightmare. Mom cried openly. I was trying to hold it together, but it was too hard. My brother was leaving me. Who would listen to my shit now? Who would have the answers, even if I didn’t like them? I missed him already and he was standing in front of me

trying desperately to grin. I knew he was excited, but I

could also feel his fear. I wanted to wrap him up and take him home. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for my mother.

Dad was stoic. He shook hands with his son and patted his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son.”

Noel smiled at Dad and hugged him tight. “Proud of you too, Dad.”

Dad nodded the way men do.

Noel took Mom in his arms. I hadn’t noticed how strong he looked until he enveloped her.

“I love you, Mom. I’ll make it home for Christmas.” “You promise?” she cried out while fixing the collar of his jacket. Old habits die hard.

“I promise.”

We watched him walk through the glass doors that

would lead him to Cuba and away from us. He waved one last time. Dad smiled at him and then he was gone. I turned to see my father dissolve in front of my eyes. Tears fell down his face and he made a noise I’d never heard

before. He put his hands to his face and the tears streamed through. My mother put her arms around him and they stood there hugging one another.

“We’ll see him at Christmas,” she said.

My dad nodded like a small boy I stood by, heartsick. We all walked to the car and we drove out of the airport

in silence.

I got home to find Leonard eating a plastic bag. I wrestled it out of his mouth. He minced out of the room, disgusted that I’d interrupted his idea of a perfectly

reasonable snack. The lights were off. I left them off and turned the TV on. I remembered the way that Noel had

called over when Anne and Richard went to Kerry. He wanted to ensure I’d be OK. Now he was gone and there was no one to call around.

Another one bites the dust.

He loved Queen. I smiled.

My brother could have been a really great homo.

Anne rang. Richard and she were trying for a baby. There was only one problem: they’d been trying to get pregnant for months and nothing was happening.

“Do you think I should get tested?” she asked.

I remembered Noreen the biology teacher in my

school had been trying two years before she had her little

girl.

“No, it’s way too soon. It just takes time,” I said confidently

“I don’t know — we’ve been doing everything possible.”

I argued that results came with time. Besides, I felt that if there was any testing to be done it should be on both

of them.

“What? You think that there’s something wrong with Richard?” she asked defensively

-No, I didn’t say that. I don’t think there’s anything

wrong with either of you, but if you are going to get tests what’s the point in testing only one of you?” I answered panicking. I wasn’t in the humour for an argument.

She thought for a minute. “Do you think it has anything to do with me being on the pill?”

I was confused. “What? You’re still on the pill?” I asked, amazed.

“Emma, don’t be such a spa,” she laughed. “I mean the fact that I was on it for so many years.”

I thought for a minute. “Well, does it say anything about that on the box?”

“No,” she admitted. “Maybe we’ll try a bit longer.” “Good idea,” I agreed.

The rest of the conversation centred on the fact that

she had to drive thirty miles to find a decent shopping

centre. I was tired and my head was aching. I hadn’t slept very well that night and I felt hot.

“I have to go,” I said. I just wasn’t able to talk.

“OK, but don’t forget I’m in Dublin tomorrow, so I’ll see you for dinner.”

I agreed I wouldn’t forget and hung up the phone. I took two painkillers and dragged myself up the stairs to bed.

I woke up a few hours later and felt a whole lot worse. I stood up to drag myself to the mirror and noticed large red spots appearing all over my torso.