It was always Joe and Tom, never Tom and Joe. Joe was the eldest by two minutes. They were identical in looks, and they gelled despite the difference in personalities. They made peculiar sense in a landscape that didn’t.
There was little conversation between them, they had no need of explanation or description. Instead their communication relied on sounds that to them had meaning, nods of the head, shrugs, a wave of the hand, a few words here and there. It took a while for the film crew to understand whatever message had passed between them. They were so in tune they could sense each other’s moods, worries, fears. They knew what the other was thinking at any given time, and they gave the beauty of this particular connection no thought whatsoever. They were often bamboozled by Bo’s depth of analysis of them. Life is what it is, things are as they are, no sense analysing it, no sense trying to change what can’t be changed, or understand what can’t be understood.
‘They didn’t want anybody else because they had each other, they were each enough for one another,’ Bo says, repeating a line she has said a thousand times in promotion for her documentary but still meaning every word. ‘So am I chasing a story?’ Bo asks. ‘Fuck yeah.’
Rachel throws her empty wrapper over Bo’s shoulder.
Solomon chuckles and closes his eyes. ‘Here we go again.’
2
‘Wow,’ Bo says as the car crawls towards the church in its stunning surroundings. ‘We’re early. Rachel, can you get your camera set up?’
Solomon sits up, wide awake now. ‘Bo, we’re not filming the funeral. We can’t.’
‘Why not?’ she asks, brown eyes staring into his intently.
‘You don’t have permission.’
She looks around, ‘From who? This isn’t private property.’
‘Okay, I’m out,’ Rachel says, getting out of the car to avoid being caught up in another of their arguments. The tumultuous relationship is not just with Solomon, it’s anyone who comes into contact with Bo. She’s so stubborn, she brings the argument out in even the most placid of people, as though the only way she knows to communicate or to learn is by pushing things so far that they spark a debate. She doesn’t do it for the enjoyment of the debate; she needs the discussion to learn how other people think. She’s not wired like most people. Though she’s sensitive, she is more sensitive to people’s stories, not necessarily in the method of discovering them. She’s not always wrong, Solomon has learned plenty from her over time. Sometimes you have to push at awkward or uncomfortable moments, sometimes the world needs people like Bo to push the boundaries in order to encourage people to open up and share the story, but it’s about choosing the right moments and Bo doesn’t always get that right.
‘You haven’t asked Joe if you can film,’ Solomon explains.
‘I’ll ask him when he arrives.’
‘You can’t ask him before his brother’s funeral. It’s insensitive.’
She looks around at the view and Solomon can see her brain ticking over.
‘But maybe some of the funeral attendees will do an interview afterwards, tell us stories about Tom we didn’t know, or get their opinion on how they think Joe’s life will be from now on. Maybe Joe will want to talk to us. I want to get a sense of what his life is like now, or what it’s going to be like.’ She says all this while spinning around, seeing the view from 360 degrees.
‘Pretty fucking lonely and miserable, I’d imagine,’ Solomon snaps, losing his temper and getting out of the car.
She looks at him, taken aback, and calls after him. ‘And after that we’ll get you some food. So that you don’t bite my head off.’
‘Show some empathy, Bo.’
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.’
He glares at her, then having enough of the argument he senses he will lose he stretches his legs and looks around.
Gougane Barra lies to the west of Macroom in Co. Cork. Its Irish name Guagán Barra, meaning ‘The Rock of Barra’, derived from Saint Finbar, who built a monastery on an island in a nearby lake in the sixth century. Its secluded position meant St Finbar’s Oratory was popular during the time of Penal Laws, for celebrating the illegal Catholic Mass. Nowadays, its stunning surroundings makes it popular for weddings. Solomon is unsure as to why Joe chose this chapel; he’s sure Joe doesn’t follow trends, nor does he go for romantic settings. The Toolin farm is as remote as you can imagine, and while it must be part of a parish, he’s not sure which. He knows the Toolin twins were not religious men; unusual for their generation, but they’re unusual men.