Mr Lynch’s Holiday

45

They ate their breakfast on the terrace.

‘You’ve hours yet. Did you want to do anything?’

‘I’m happy enough here for now.’

Eamonn thought that he should say more to reassure Dermot before he left. Absolve him of any worry.

‘I’ve been thinking — if this is how it ends with Laura, then this is how it ends. It’ll be hard, but life will go on. I’ll get over it in time.’ He paused and then added in a voice that wasn’t his own: ‘Plenty more fish in the sea!’ He made an expansive gesture at the barren landscape around them and gave a big smile. He was finding it hard to judge the tone correctly. Dermot ignored him and looked out at the horizon.

‘I like it here.’

Eamonn nodded. ‘Yeah. Oh yeah. I mean, me too. It’s great really. A few teething problems, but I just need to give it more time.’

Dermot carried on studying the vista and then turned and looked directly at Eamonn. ‘There’s no future for you here, son.’

Eamonn froze. A distant memory from childhood. His father could read minds. Somehow he had forgotten this.

‘You should speak to Laura.’

Eamonn breathed out. ‘Well, that’s difficult when she won’t speak to me. I’ve emailed her, I’ve texted her, I ring her all the time.’

Dermot shook his head. ‘But that’s not speaking to her, is it? Face to face. That’s a conversation.’

‘She’s not here. Have you not noticed? She’s gone.’

‘You get on a plane, you go after her.’

‘Oh, Dad, come on. She wouldn’t appreciate that. There’s no point.’

‘My God. I thought you weren’t like me. I thought you had more sense. “No point”? Jesus Christ. Do anything but talk to her. Anything but say what needs to be said, to her face. Send her your essays every day if you like, but don’t kid yourself that’s talking.’

Eamonn walked to the edge of the terrace and looked out. ‘I used to talk to her all the time. I told her everything. We’d talk all night. After we came here, I started waking in the nights. My heart hammering, difficulty breathing. Panic attacks, I suppose.’ He turned to face Dermot. ‘I could have just leaned over, reached out and held her hand, told her that I wasn’t coping. But I didn’t.

‘She’s very resilient, you know, Laura. Very strong. She took it all in her stride. She dealt with the disappointments here, the weirdnesses, and she still kept a purpose, was still funny. Still herself.

‘She was everything to me. I know that’s corny but it’s true. And it’s not good. To depend on someone like that. I mean, once we’d been everything to each other, but then suddenly we weren’t equal, I was heavier, a big weight that she had to bear, and I didn’t want her to feel it, to know it.’ He rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I just kept on and on and on until she was gone.’

He fell silent for a while.

‘I know I need to speak to her.’

Dermot stood. ‘So why don’t you go and pack your bags?’

‘I better book a flight first.’

‘You don’t need to. I’ve already done it.’

‘You? On the Internet?’

‘I got someone to help me.’

‘Oh. OK. Am I on your flight?’

‘You are.’

Eamonn was a little disoriented but headed to his room to start packing a bag. A moment later he returned.

‘You haven’t packed your shaving things.’

‘I don’t need to pack them.’

‘You’re leaving them here?’

‘I am. I’ll need them.’

Eamonn looked at him. ‘I’m confused.’

‘You’re on my flight, son. On my ticket. I’ve changed the name. They let you do that. To be honest, I wouldn’t have had a clue, but Inga sorted it all out for me.’

‘You’re not coming with me?’

‘I thought I’d stay here.’

‘Here?’ Eamonn was aware of sounding stupid.

‘I’ve got my pension. I’ve got savings. I’ve got more money than I can spend. I can keep up the payments. You go home, there’s nothing to pay there, just the heating of the place.’

‘That’s insane.’

‘Why is it? I like it here. Very much. Haven’t I worked hard all my life? Don’t I deserve a place in the sun?’

‘That’s not the point. This is my mess. I need to clear it up.’

‘You’ve just told me how unhappy you’ve been here but you’re insisting on staying. My God, Eamonn, your mother would have been proud. Maybe they’ll make you a saint after you die.’

Eamonn looked at him. ‘But you’d be on your own.’

‘I’m on my own at home, aren’t I? What’s the difference? I like it here. There are good people around. I’ll make friends. Remember, I’ve done it before — water off a duck’s back to me.’

‘You have it all worked out.’

‘I have it all worked out.’

‘What if you change your mind?’

‘Then I’ll go home.’

Eamonn dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘I thought I’d be happy here.’

‘Maybe you were happy enough at home.’

‘I messed it all up.’

Dermot shrugged. ‘You just took a wrong turning. Everyone’s done that.’

Eamonn went to his room to resume packing. He had not spent a night away from Lomaverde since his mother’s funeral. The idea that he could just get on a plane and leave seemed remarkable. The thought of being anywhere else unbelievable. He found it hard to imagine himself, the person he might be, away from there. It felt to him as if Lomaverde were inside him and he didn’t know how he would feel on a busy street, in the rain, waiting for a bus. He found the prospect of even such prosaic moments exhilarating and faintly terrifying.

He packed an odd selection of clothes, found his passport and only at the last minute remembered his phone, recharging in the corner. There was a message.

He stared at the message for a long time and finally he knew what it was.