The Doll's House

I want to tell her how much I love her, but instead I say, ‘Will you be calling over soon?’


‘For another inquisition? I don’t know which of you is worse, you or bloody Dad.’

‘Ruby, it’s just …’

‘It’s just what, Mum?’

‘He doesn’t want you ending up like me. He worries about your drinking, and the rest of it. If you need help, Ruby, we can get it for you. I didn’t want to go to rehab, but—’

‘I don’t need fucking help.’

‘We all think that.’

‘I’m not listening to this shit any more.’

‘Ruby, please don’t hang up.’

But she does. And I can’t hide my anger. I slam down the receiver, my hand still shaking. At first, I’m not sure who I’m more upset with, her or me.

You think you can put back together all of the broken pieces, but you can’t. None of this is Ruby’s fault. When I think about her being small, the memory is unbearable. All those wasted weekends when I was so hung-over that we never left the house, or the school functions I missed with one excuse after another. It’s when children stop asking you to be part of their life that you know things have gone too far. I can’t keep blaming my mother for that. The fault is mine. I was the adult, Ruby the child. The one she should have been able to trust, the one who turned her back on her. If I’ve learned nothing else from my mother, I’ve learned that. I hope to Christ it’s not too late for us. I may be a fuck-up, but I love my daughter more than anything else in this godforsaken world.





Inchicore


When Clodagh left Gerard Hayden’s yesterday, she didn’t know I’d been following her. She barely turned as she left his house. Her appointment had lasted longer than I’d expected. She was obviously upset. Clodagh is a woman on the edge, someone who doesn’t require much pushing to topple. I envy how gullible she is. I stopped being gullible a long time ago. I learned that lesson the hard way. Never judge a book by its cover. Never trust. Never walk easily into a trap, because traps are always hidden. Traps are not meant to be seen.

My conversation with Gerard Hayden hadn’t taken long, another communication on a need-to-know basis. He’ll continue to play his game for now. Gerard Hayden is no more than a pawn, the weakest piece in the game of chess, moving things forward, shifting the balance of play, but only until the real player ultimately does battle.

Jimmy is history. My next move will need to be handled carefully. It feels like days since I’ve slept properly, but that doesn’t matter. If anything, it adds to the half-dead, half-alive feeling I’ve carried around with me for so long. And still the anger bubbles below the surface. I know I have so much more to do. Each step is its own means to an end. It won’t be long before people start putting two and two together, connecting Jenkins and Gahan. It will bring things closer to home, but no mind. I still have time. If I don’t fuck things up.

That’s the funny thing about secrets. For some people they feel huge, as if they should be obvious to everyone. For me, they dictate my every move. Either way, once you have them, it’s impossible to know who you can trust, or how far you can trust anyone with them.

Darling Clodagh, you looked so fragile yesterday, yet resolute. In a way it makes what I need to do somewhat easier. You’re looking for answers and that’s understandable. That’s what I want you to do. But you have no idea what you’re messing with. The answers are never enough. The answers lead to more questions and, ultimately, the truth, and the truth isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.

Last night the sky looked bruised, just like your face, Clodagh – a mishmash of faded purple. Gahan, the stupid idiot, died too fast.

As I walk, the trees cast shadows, and again my mind drifts. I pass others, wondering why they don’t know what I’ve done. There is power within this feeling – retribution for past sins, and the feeling that what happened in Seacrest has never really left any of us.

I think about Jenkins again, his last moments on this earth, swallowing the water, gasping for air. How I pushed him in further, my arms stretched, knowing everything had changed. I was the one in control. His eyes had bulged from their sockets, his body losing its resistance as his arms flailed his defence, until even he accepted death was the only outcome.





Ocean House, the Quays