Cecelia Ahern - One Hundred Names

‘Don’t worry, we’ve plenty of time, we can do it,’ Edward said, placing a hand protectively on Molly’s shoulder, and she softened and smiled.

‘Thanks.’

‘We’d better make it.’ Kitty looked at Steve, worried. ‘I have a presentation at the office at six.’

‘Can you delay it?’

‘I’ve delayed it a week already. I’m supposed to make a presentation about Constance’s story,’ Kitty said, sweat breaking out all over her body at the thought.

They were waiting for George and Eva to finish their private conversation, everyone was on the bus celebrating Jedrek and Achar’s record attempt, and nobody but Molly and Kitty were starting to get nervous.

‘You really know how to leave things last minute, don’t you?’ Steve smiled. ‘So, do you know what it’s about yet? The thing that links them all? Because personally I’ve had a hard time trying to put it all together.’ He looked at the gang around him from all walks of life.

Kitty nodded, proudly. ‘I sure do.’

‘Well then, you’ve nothing to worry about,’ he said encouragingly.

‘Apart from our driver,’ she said, her voice low.

When Eva finally joined them on the bus, her face was white as though she’d seen a ghost. It didn’t go unnoticed by the others but they gave her time to herself as she sat by the window alone in a row.

Shortly after they’d set off Kitty left Steve’s side and went over to Eva. ‘Mind if I join you?’

‘Sure.’ Eva gave her a quick smile, but one that didn’t reach her eyes.

‘Congratulations, you should be really proud about how today went. The gift for Seamus was so beautiful, you even managed to touch an old cynic like me,’ Kitty joked.

‘Hmm? Oh, yes, that was great. A success,’ she smiled.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Me? Yes, of course, why?’ She gave that big pretty smile that did manage to reach her eyes but which Kitty was no longer believing.

‘Because you look like you’ve seen a ghost and you seem … down. Did something happen with George?’

‘You’re ever the romantic, aren’t you?’ Eva smiled. ‘Archie and Regina, Ambrose and Eugene, Mary-Rose and Sam, Molly and Edward – has this just been one big ploy to get everyone together?’

Kitty laughed. ‘No, not at all. They all did that by themselves, I assure you, though Sam and Mary-Rose is a work in progress, I think.’ They both looked to the two best friends lost in deep serious conversation. ‘I think you could give them a gift to help move that along.’

Eva smiled and fingered the bag in her hand. She looked at Kitty and then sighed. ‘God, you’re impossible.’

Kitty laughed. ‘Good.’

‘George gave me a gift.’

‘Oh? A gift for the giver – I wouldn’t be brave enough to pull that one off.’

‘This trip has been one of the best, you know,’ she said, and Kitty believed her.

‘Thank you. What did he give you?’

‘A box.’ She opened the bag and retrieved a small Chinese lacquered box. Her eyes filled just looking at it.

‘I take it that box means something to you.’

‘Yes.’ She wiped her eyes before her tears fell. ‘He remembered me telling him about a gift that I’d received, a gift that meant something to me. And he found quite the imitation.’

‘Has anyone ever given you something that’s moved you so much?’

‘Not really,’ she said, and the tears fell steadily now. ‘Not since I received the original version.’

Aha, she was getting somewhere.

‘So you weren’t exactly telling the truth about the My Little Pony being the best gift you’d ever received,’ Kitty said gently.

Eva laughed and shook her head. ‘Sorry. But I think we both knew that.’ She sniffed and looked at her intently. ‘You can’t write all of this, Kitty, because there are other people involved.’

Kitty nodded. ‘You have my word.’

‘Just write whatever you have to write for it to mean something.’

Kitty completely understood.

‘It was Christmas Day and my mother and I were waiting. The food was ready on the table, I can remember the smell, it was so delicious. My mother insisted on traditional Christmas meals. Her traditional meals. My father is from Shanghai. He owns a Chinese takeaway in Galway. Wu’s Chinese Takeaway. He was two hours late and, well, we were hungry and I remember my mother looking at me and not saying it out loud, but almost asking me what do I think we should do. You have to be a certain way with my mother, or at least I had to be then. I couldn’t tell her exactly what I thought because then she would do the opposite. It was like reverse psychology: you had to make her think it was her decision and therefore the right one. So she started to cut into the turkey and it smelled so good, even though it was overcooked and had been sitting there too long. I spooned the vegetables onto my plate and I couldn’t wait, I just couldn’t wait, I had to eat it. I had taken the first mouthful when I heard the key in the door and I wanted to just die. I couldn’t swallow it, I couldn’t spit it out. Mother was still carving the turkey for her plate. My dad walked in – I could smell him before I saw him – and he saw us starting dinner without him, which made him angry.

‘“Just in time,” I remember my mom saying perkily. Too perkily. He knew that we weren’t going to wait for him. So he left the dining room. He trampled on all of the presents, smashed a china doll that was for me, pulled down the Christmas tree, pulled down the lights from the ceiling so that they crashed on to the dining table, scratching the beautiful wood. He cleared every surface, the fine china from the display cupboard, everything was in pieces.’

She swallowed.

‘Then he went at my mother. Not for the first time either. She still had the carving knife in her hand. It ended up in her arm.’

‘Eva,’ Kitty breathed, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I’m not telling you this so you’ll be sorry.’ Eva looked at Kitty. ‘You want to understand, I’m trying to help you to understand.’

Kitty nodded.

‘I ended up across the road with an old neighbour. We sat in front of her television for four hours before my aunt came to take me home. She only had black-and-white TV and all I remember watching is I Love Lucy over and over again. I swear I can’t watch that woman to this day, being so stupid and everybody laughing every time she tripped or fell, or did something ridiculous, and all the time my head was rerunning everything that had happened. The old woman, I can’t even remember her name, didn’t say one word to me for the whole time. She gave me milk and a plate of biscuits and she sat in an armchair beside me and we watched the television in silence. She didn’t even laugh, which made the show seem even more pathetic. But before I left, she gave me a gift. It was a small box, a Chinese lacquered box, with a lock and key. She said it was for all my secrets, that every little girl needed a box for all her secrets. I don’t know why but it was the most perfect, perfect thing that anybody had ever given me. It was so appropriate. She hadn’t said one word about what had happened but she seemed to encompass everything in this one gift.’

‘So that’s the gift that started you thinking the way you do, that made you want to help people by giving the perfect thing.’

‘Yes.’ Eva ran her fingers over the box George had given her.

‘Did you tell George that story?’

‘No, I just told him about the box. I’ve never told anyone about it. I lost it, though, years ago, when we were moving house.’

‘He must have known it was important to you.’

‘Yes,’ she said curiously.

‘Eva, do you mind me asking, how old were you when … when you received the box?’