Ten Months Later

63

Murph and Helen turned to each other. Murph let out a breath. Helen’s eyes were filled with tears. Her laptop was open on iTunes. It was playing the tail end of a pod-cast.

‘And that was the final episode of the podcast, Girl Eleven, Girl Sixteen, by Mally James, named this year’s Podcast of The Year by the Irish Times.’

Murph wiped at Helen’s tears with his big thumbs. She started to laugh.

Murph nodded. ‘Yup — I’ve taken half your make-up off.’

Helen held her hand against his.

‘That was tough going,’ said Murph.

‘It would have been tougher going if Val hadn’t helped us out,’ said Helen. ‘Well, helped Dylan out, really.’

Murph nodded. ‘Jesus Christ — can you imagine those details getting out? Edie... and Patrick. There isn’t even a rumour going around about it — that’s how fucked up the idea of it is to anyone. No one would believe it. Fair play to Val.’

‘I admire the woman a lot,’ said Helen. ‘“It wasn’t the ‘why’, was it?”’ she said.

‘They dug the “why” up out of the acre next door,’ said Murph.

‘Ah, Murph — you can’t blame the parents on everything,’ said Helen. She paused. ‘Poor Dylan.’

‘He has you,’ said Murph. ‘And there’s no better woman in my eyes.’ He paused. ‘And he has me, which is pretty shit because no one wants to live with the school principal.’

‘I do,’ said Helen.

‘But you’re desperate,’ said Murph.

Helen laughed.

‘Jesus, though, he’s naïve enough — Dylan.’

‘Murph!’ said Helen. ‘That’s not nice.’

‘Ah, not naïve,’ said Murph. ‘Young. He’s all excited — Mally got a first for the podcast. And he’s telling me people are saying I’m some kind of hero, and he thinks that’s great. And I’m just thinking—’

‘I know what you’re thinking and stop it,’ said Helen. ‘Stop it.’

‘But—’

‘Laura would kill you and you know she would. Kill you.’

‘But—’

‘Murph,’ said Helen, her hand on his back. ‘This might be the only thing that could ever make me cross with you. I can’t have you beat yourself up about this for the rest of your life. It was a freak accident. A jagged piece of timber, her femoral artery. It was too dark for you to see the extent of the wound. Even if you had, even if you had called an ambulance right away, there wasn’t going to be a lot they could do. This was not your fault.’

‘But — it was my idea to move the beams and I didn’t think—’

‘You both would have died, if you hadn’t tried something,’ said Helen. ‘And if you’d died, I would have too. I know it’s hard when you can’t save the world. But, at least know how grateful I am that you saved me. You are my brave boy.’ She kissed him.

They fell into a short silence.

Then Murph stood up. ‘Come here, you beautiful creature.’ He bent down to scoop her in to his arms.

Helen slapped him gently away. ‘I can walk!’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’

‘I don’t care if you’re having a good day!’ said Murph. ‘What if I’m having a bad one? What if I’m shitting it about starting in the school and being expected to be responsible and I want to feel like a man by carrying my beautiful princess to my lair?’

Helen laughed.

‘Every time I get to have my wicked way with you,’ said Murph, ‘I think the same thing...’

Helen smiled at him. ‘Aw... what?’

‘She’s faking the MS. There’s not a thing wrong with that woman.’


At midnight, Murph stood on the balcony at the front of the house. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, barefoot, looking out over the harbour, holding a glass of 1615 Pisco Torontel, then raising it.

‘This is for you, lovely lady,’ he said. ‘In your honour. And you had lots of it. And you should be proud of yourself. And you died honourably. And kindly. And here we are — myself and Helen. And life is fucked up beyond measure and beautiful too and I’m quite pissed now, in fairness. I miss the fuck out of you. We’d barely seen each other in years — once or twice a year, tops — and after one night, you’ve made me miss you this much. It must be weird being up there with no one to fight with about telling the truth because you’re with the angels.’ He took a drink. ‘So, Laura, this is for you... have I said that already? Have I mentioned the sponsored walk I’m going to organize in your honour? The Laura Hurley Memorial Walk... of Shame. Wear whatever you were wearing last night but with a slick of deodorant from the opposite sex.’ He smiled. ‘Come on... it’s me.’

He turned to go back inside, then paused. He looked up at the stars.

‘Are any of ye the lucky ones? Or are you just the boring ones? I’d like to speak to the lucky ones. It’s about Helen Maguire.’ He swayed back on his heels. ‘Right,’ he said. raising his glass. ‘Lucky stars — thanks, in fairness. You finally kicked in.’ He let out a breath. ‘Love,’ he said. ‘You can’t outrun the fucker.’

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