Liz Nugent - Lying in Wait

‘I’m still in Athlone. I’m too embarrassed to see you.’

‘Bridget, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were expecting—’

‘Please don’t say it, I feel bad enough.’

‘But we’re so young, marriage hadn’t even crossed my mind—’

‘Why did you want to meet my family? You must have known what that meant to me?’

‘I was…’

‘What?’

‘I don’t love you.’

I could imagine her bad eye rolling up into her head.

‘What do you mean?’ Her voice was very high-pitched.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What? Are you breaking up with me? I know things have been a little odd between us recently, you’ve been so busy helping Karen.’

‘That’s not it.’

‘I just think you’ve got a bit, you know, emotionally involved, but I can tell her you need a break. You don’t have to… we don’t have to get married yet, but that’s no reason—’

‘Bridget, I can’t—’

‘Please don’t dump me.’

‘I’m sorry, Bridget, I really am, but you deserve better than me.’

I hung up the phone gently and went to get myself a drink. I joined Mum in the kitchen. The evening was bright. The bird bath was smothered in swallows.

‘I just broke up with Bridget.’

‘Oh dear, is she very upset?’

‘Yes.’

‘Poor Bridget.’

Indeed. I felt relief, but was also worried that seeing Karen would be awkward at the very least. She and Bridget were confidantes, I knew. I waited to see what would happen when the letter landed in Pearse Street.

I was absolutely raging with Annie. I couldn’t believe that she could be that cruel. For nearly six years, me and Ma and Da had been half worried to death over what could have happened to her. Our worst fears haunted us, and all this time she’d been sitting on her arse somewhere down the country, living a new secret life and not giving a toss about us. She’d left us to rot. She’d broken up her parents’ marriage and didn’t even know or care.

I knew the handwriting on the envelope when I saw it, and even though it was addressed to Ma, I screamed for Da to come downstairs. He nearly passed out when I explained it was from Annie. Da was no good with reading. ‘Open it,’ he said.

What a betrayal. No address, no contact details, and she was apparently living under a different name so that we wouldn’t find her. I knew that Annie could be wild and destructive, but I had never thought she could be that selfish.

Da cried and rang Ma. She arrived on the next train, tearful and delighted at the same time. ‘At least she’s OK!’ she kept saying, but I found it impossible to find any comfort in this. I turned it over and over in my mind and, yes, I think I would have preferred if she’d been dead. That probably makes me a horrible person, but I loved her and she had shat on all of us. I had never been rejected before, but my own sister didn’t want to know me.

We examined the envelope and the writing paper. They were unremarkable. The letter had been posted on Sunday the 20th of July, from Athlone. We went through the letter, line by badly spelled line. At least that hadn’t changed. Da and me were devastated, but Ma felt justified. She said it proved that it was Da’s fault and not hers. I didn’t care about blame. I was hurt by the fact that I only got six words in the whole letter. It was like I was an afterthought. She had forgotten about me. We discussed whether we should take this to the guards, but Ma said no, because if she’d been in trouble with them before she left, there could still be charges pending against her.

‘What will we do?’ said Ma.

‘Nothing. Leave her alone. She doesn’t want us.’ Da put on his jacket and we didn’t have to guess where he was headed.

Ma stayed. I wondered if she and Da would reconcile now. I thought about ringing Dessie because I wanted someone to comfort me, but I knew he would feel smug and would point out that my search had been a wild goose chase. Ma slept in my room, in Annie’s bed, that night. We heard Da falling up the stairs in the small hours of the morning. The next day, I cancelled work for a few days. Yvonne wanted to know why, but I didn’t want to explain. The truth was too humiliating, and it made a fool out of her son. James had been wrong all along about the murder suspect. I claimed illness.

I rang Bridget at work, but she wasn’t there, so I tried Laurence. I told him what had happened. He was completely silent for a few moments. I suppose he was annoyed. He and Bridget had spent months tracking down death notices and old car registrations. I had wasted their time.

‘Do you want to meet later?’ he said.

‘Maybe. Where’s Bridget? I heard she wasn’t at work today.’

‘No, she’s… in… Athlone with her folks. I’ll see you in Kehoe’s? About five thirty? You can tell me everything.’

I had forgotten that Bridget was from Athlone. But hearing the place name made me angry again. How could you, Annie? I rang the bus company to check the timetable. I packed a small bag and told Ma I was meeting a friend in Kehoe’s and that I was going from there to get a bus to Athlone to find Annie.

‘Karen, I don’t know… she seemed certain… she doesn’t want to be found.’

‘And what about what we want? Don’t you want to see her?’

‘I do. Of course I do. But… maybe you’re right. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all go and visit her?’

‘Exactly. Well, I’m going to find her first.’ I had the silver-framed photo of Annie from the sitting room on top of my bag.

‘Be careful though, love. You don’t want to give anyone the impression that she’s in trouble. If she’s living a good life now, she won’t want to drag up her past.’

‘I’m going to say that I found the photo and just want to return it to its owner.’

I met Laurence. I apologized profusely for all the time he had wasted looking for my sister’s ‘murderer’.

‘Please, don’t. At least she’s alive. And happy.’

‘And cruel and selfish.’

‘But aren’t you glad she’s OK?’

The way he looked at me when he said it. I noticed again the kindness in his eyes. I tried not to cry and put my head down, but he put his arm gently around my neck and kissed the top of my head. I pulled away, reluctantly. I was momentarily confused, but before I had a chance to react, we were interrupted by Dessie. He caught me by the arm and physically pulled me off the stool, knocking it to the ground.

‘Who the fuck are you?’

Laurence stood up and faced him. ‘I’m her friend. Let her go.’

‘Dessie, please, what are you doing here?’ I shook him off.

‘Your ma rang and told me what happened. She told me you’d be here with a friend . Is he why you left me?’

Everyone in the pub had stopped to stare.

‘I think you should leave,’ said Laurence.

‘She’s my wife.’

‘Not any more,’ I said.

‘I was right about Annie all along. She was nothing but trouble and she never gave a shit about you. I’ll wait for you outside.’

The barman was approaching to remove Dessie. He put his hands in the air to show he wanted no trouble and was escorted to the door.

‘I’m sorry, I have to go talk to him.’

‘Karen—’

‘Laurence, can you give me Bridget’s address in Athlone? I’m getting the seven o’clock bus.’

‘You… what?’

‘I have to find her. Is Bridget on holidays? Why is she in Athlone?’

‘Find Annie? But didn’t the letter say she wanted to be left alone?’

‘Yeah, but she’s not getting off the hook that easily. Can I have Bridget’s address?’

He wrote it into my notebook. ‘Karen, I’m so sorry.’