Cecelia Ahern - How to Fall in Love

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Have you ever not known something but known it at the same time?’

Her words struck me hard; I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had used the very same expression when thinking about my own feelings about my marriage.

‘Oh God,’ Amelia said, exhausted. Her head flopped down on her arms, resting on the table. ‘What a day.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I whispered.

‘What time is it?’ Amelia looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘That’s unusual. Mum would usually have called for her dinner by now. I better check on her.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘Do I look like I’ve been crying?’

Her eyes were red raw, matching her wild red hair.

‘You look fine,’ I lied. Her mother would know anyway.

As soon as she left the room, I checked my phone for messages from Adam. I’d given him the keys to my apartment and hoped he would be okay, but there was nothing in the apartment to offer him distraction, no television, no books. This was not a good thing. I quickly dialled his number.

‘Christine! Call an ambulance!’ Amelia shrieked from the next room. By her tone, I knew not to ask any questions. I cleared Adam’s number and dialled 999.

Amelia had found Magda on the floor beside her bed. As soon as the ambulance crew got there, they pronounced her dead. She had suffered a major stroke. Amelia was an only child with no dependants and no one else to turn to, so I stayed with her throughout the ordeal, lending a shoulder to cry on and helping her make arrangements.

It was ten p.m. when I finally had the chance to look at my phone. I had six missed calls and a voicemail. It was from Clontarf garda station, asking me to call them about Adam Basil.

10

How to Make an Omelette Without Breaking Eggs

‘I’m here to see Adam Basil,’ I said, bursting into Clontarf garda station. All the way there, my already cluttered mind had been further overloaded with what-ifs and awful, terrifying thoughts of what he might have done to himself. I couldn’t even remember the journey.

The garda stared back at me through the hatch. ‘Can I see some ID?’

I passed it through. ‘Is he okay? Is he hurt?’

‘If he was hurt, he’d be in hospital.’

‘Of course, yes.’ I hadn’t thought of that and I relaxed. Then I tensed up again: ‘Is he in trouble?’

‘He’s cooling down,’ he said, exiting the office and disappearing from view.

I waited for ten minutes and finally the door to the waiting area opened and Adam stepped into the room. He looked a mess. I knew from the expression on his face that I would have to tread carefully. His eyes were dark. His shirt was crumpled as if he’d slept in it, though I knew he hadn’t because his eyes were exhausted, and angry. If this was Adam after cooling down, I dreaded to think what he had been like a few hours before.

‘You know it’s not legal to lock me up for so long,’ he snarled at the garda. ‘I know my rights.’

‘I don’t want to see you back here again, do you hear me?’ the senior garda pointed a menacing finger at him.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked quietly.

He glared at me, then stormed past and out the door.

‘We found him on a park bench, looking at the kids in the playground. The parents got anxious, suspicious, called us to go around. I went over to ask him some questions and he lost his head.’

‘So you locked him up?’

‘Speaking to a garda like that, he’s lucky I didn’t charge him. He needs to talk to someone, that lad. You should watch yourself,’ he warned.

I followed Adam outside, expecting him to have disappeared. But there he was, standing by the car.

‘I’m sorry I was gone all afternoon. Amelia was upset about breaking up with her boyfriend.’

He didn’t seem too touched by her misfortune and I didn’t blame him after what he’d been through that afternoon.

‘I was about to call you and tell you I was on my way when she went upstairs to check on her mother and found she’d had a massive stroke. We called an ambulance but it was too late, she was dead. I couldn’t just walk out on her after that.’ Suddenly I was tired. So, so tired.

Adam’s jaw softened. ‘Sorry to hear that.’

We drove the short distance to the flat in silence and when we got inside he looked around the empty rooms, naked walls, my Spider-Man duvet.

‘I’m sorry this is all there is,’ I said, embarrassed. ‘It’s a rental. All my stuff is being held hostage.’

He dumped his bag on the ground. ‘It’s grand.’

‘Adam, the crisis plan is there to help you. I know it might seem useless, but if you follow the steps, I’m sure you will find it helpful in future.’

‘Helpful?’ he shouted, giving me a fright. He pulled a rumpled piece of paper from his pocket and started to rip it up in a fury. I took a few steps away from him, suddenly aware that here was a total stranger with mental health issues that I had let into my home. How stupid had I been? He didn’t notice me edging away.

‘This thing was what got me into trouble. Call someone on your emergency list whenever you have a suicidal thought , it says. So I had one. First on my emergency list is you. I called you. You didn’t answer. Second should be my girlfriend and third should be my best friend, but they’re not on the bloody list. My mother’s dead and my father’s dying. They’re not on the list. Failing that, Do something that makes you happy whenever you have a suicidal thought .’ He clenched the remains of the note in his fist. ‘Seeing as I’d already eaten my food and had my walk, what other happy thing could I possibly do today? Then I remembered the playground and heard the kids laughing and I thought, that’s fucking happy, maybe they’ll make me fucking happy. So I sat there for an hour, not feeling very fucking happy, and then this garda comes along and asks me if I’m some paedo! Of course I’m going to have an attitude if he thinks I’m some sicko, gawking at kids. So you can take your fucking crisis plan and stuff it up your hole!’ he yelled, throwing the tattered bits of paper in the air. ‘Your friend’s boyfriend left her, her mother died and you’re not doing much better yourself. Thanks for showing me the beauty of life.’

‘Okay …’ I faltered, trying not to be afraid of this man I didn’t know while at the same time struggling to convince myself that I did know him, reminding myself that I’d seen glimpses of Adam being kind, showing his romantic side, being funny. Faced with this darkness and rage, it was hard to believe that other Adam existed. I looked at the door, trying not to let him see me. I could run. I could call the guards, I could tell them what had happened on the bridge, I could tell them he wanted to kill himself, I could end this all right now, because I had failed. I had made a mess of it all.

I took a deep breath in an effort to slow my heartbeat down. His shouting was making me so panicky, I couldn’t think straight. At last there was silence. He was standing there, looking at me. I had to say something. Something understanding. Something that wouldn’t trigger another outbreak of anger. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt himself. Not here, not with me, not ever.

I swallowed and was surprised by how steady my voice was. ‘I understand that you’re feeling angry.’

‘Of course I’m feeling fucking angry.’ But he didn’t sound as angry as he had before. He seemed to have calmed a little at my acknowledging it. That made me feel calmer; maybe I could do this after all. At least I could give it a try for a while longer. I didn’t want to give up on him.

‘I’ve got a remedy for that.’ I side-stepped around him quickly, and went to the kitchen. I took six eggs from the fridge, and wrote on them with a black marker, noticing how my hand trembled. I wrote the names ‘Basil’, ‘Sean’, ‘Maria’, ‘Dad’, ‘Lavinia’ and ‘Christine’ on the eggs, then slid open the kitchen door leading to the long back garden.