Gramps is beginning to pull himself together. His cheque arrived on time this week. He’s promised to stop drinking and come with me and Lydia to the inquest. I dread it…and the court case. It’s like the anniversary mass. Another stepping stone that walks them further away from us. Life moves on…tick tock tick…and a year has passed.
Chapter Nine
Letters to Nirvana
13 August 1986
Dear Mammy,
I have sad news. That is why I did not write for 3 days. Gramps is dead. I cried for ages at his funral and Im crying writing this. Mrs Mulvaney said we cry for all sorts of different reasons at funrals. At Gramps funral lots of things came back to me. I thought I was going to be sick. He is glad to be dead. He said so to Becks after the court. Do you think that killed him? He went with her and Mrs Mulvaney to find out how you and Daddy died. Why? We know why. A big lorry, that is why. The lorry driver said he was very sorry. His family hugged him when the judge said he wouldn’t go to jail because of the rain making the road slippy. Becks hates his guts. So do I. I don’t want to write any more tonight.
XXXXXXXXX to you and Daddy
Cathy
22 September 1986
Dear Mammy,
Today was nice. We cleaned out Gramp’s cottage, what a mess. Whisky bottles everywhere and mice droppings in the presses. UGG! UGG! Tell him thanks for the money. Becks said it is for our edukayshon. Julie wants to spend it on ecuipment for the band. Maxeemum Volum are going to tour when they are famous and they need a image. She wont do her Leaving exam. Becks said no way ho-say you do it or I’ll lock you in your room and throw away the key.
Lauren would’nt help clean Gramps cottage. She sat in the car with her walkman on and told me to F…Off when I asked if she wanted to see your bike in the barn. I only asked!! It was covered in cobwebs. I closed my eyes and I could see you riding the road and the wind blowing your dress. Lauren is in a rotten mood again. Remember the last photo Daddy took on the night we all went to her ballet show? Daddy timed the camera so he could get into it too? Well, she broke the glass and screamed at me to stop putting flowers in front of it. I’m never going to speak to her again!!
She didn’t want to go to secondderry school because people would laugh at her limp and call her a spa. She has no limp. Only when she’s tired and tries to do her ballet. Mrs Moran took her to Arnotts for her new school uniform and they went to a posh hotel for tea.
I have to write to Mrs Moran every week. She sends back my letters with red marks. I hate her. I only want to write to you and tell you all.
I will write again soon.
Love to you and Daddy and Gramps
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cathy
15 January 1987
Dear Mammy,
I can’t believe you are dead 2 years today. We planted lavender on your grave and put fresh flowers on the spot where you died. Becks wants to put a cross there but the council said it’s not on and would be a distracshin for drivers.
The garden is all weeds now. Its Julies job to keep the grass cut but she is a lazy lump and calls Becks a commonist dictater. She told her a fib about playing with Maximum Volume at a concert for cancer. Kevin said it was in a pub where men look up girl’s legs and buy kondoms. My lips are zealed. Maximum Volume are my favorite band, next to Adam Ant. Me and Kevin listen to the band when they pratis in the garden shed. Sebby Morris is lead guitar. Do you remember him from around the corner? He is the biggest poser ever and shakes his head when he plays guitar like there are bees in his ears. He keeps pointing his guitar at Julie and making kissing mouths when Paul is not looking.
Love to you and Daddy and Gramps
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cathy
10 July 1987
Dear Mammy,
Today was nice. We had a picnic in Gramp’s river field. It belongs to Becks now. A woman called Lulu May rents it from Becks and keeps horses there. She made us tea in the cottage and brought it out to the picnic and sat with us. The sun was shining. Julie blew the seeds from dandylion clocks and said Seb…Paul…Seb…Paul. All the last seeds said Paul…Paul…Paul. I’m glad because Sebby Morris keeps talking about going to Austrailya and Julie says she’ll go with him. Paul says he’s all hot air and gets mad jelous if he even looks at Julie. Please don’t let her go away.
Lulu’s horses waded across the river to see us. They nussled Beck’s cheeks like they loved her too. I’m really glad she didn’t sell the field to Mr Moran for his ticky tacky houses.
Please make every day like today.
Love to you and Daddy and Gramps
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cathy
25 August 1987
Dear Mammy,
What a week! Julie failed the Leaving. Too much snogging on the sofa with Paul ha ha. Mr Moran says failing was on the cards from the beginning and the same will happen to me and Lauren if Becks doesn’t keep a tighter rein on us. The row about the Leaving was bad. I wish Becks would stop bossing us around. I wish Julie would stop driving her nuts. I wish Lauren would smile and talk to me. I don’t want to go to the Morans with her. Julie won’t go, no way ho-say, and Rebecca says she needs a break so me and Lauren we have to go on our own to Meadow Lark.
Love to you and Daddy and Gramps
Cathy
1 November 1987
Dear Mammy,
Sad news. All the bangers killed Nero. Becks found him in the kitchen this morning stiff. We had a funeral in the garden and she made a cross for his grave and read a poem about a dog being a woman’s best friend. She cried worse than at your funeral.
Love to you, Daddy, Gramps and Nero
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cathy
Chapter Ten
Rebecca’s Journal–1987
They use a language I can’t decode. Even Lauren with her lost eyes is part of it. Silent and subtle, implicate in the twist of a lip, the lift of an eyebrow, the flash of their eyes meeting. Even the way they hold their shoulders sends out signals that can change their mood, avert an argument, turn a serious discussion into a joke from which I always feel excluded. I can’t remember when I first noticed that it had become Me and Them…Us and Her. I know why they resent me. I’m to blame for trying to replace the irreplaceable…but what is there to do?
Julie escapes into her music. There’s been complaints from the neighbours about the noise from the garden shed but she yawns and sighs and heaves her shoulders when I try and talk to her. I hear my voice, shrill, bad-tempered, bossy, and find it hard to recognise myself. I hate what they’ve turned me into. Lydia is the only one who understands.
I never thought I’d have anything in common with a woman in her forties but she’s been a brick. I talked to her about Jeremy and how he never bothered phoning to tell me he was moving to New York. I had to hear it from Sheila. Rose Moore looked terrible when I saw her in Malahide Village last week. I probably looked the same after he dumped me. I told her it would pass but she took it the wrong way and said she was the one who dumped him and good riddance. She’s such a liar.
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