Cecelia Ahern - How to Fall in Love

He was at the end and he didn’t like endings, he didn’t like partings or goodbyes and he didn’t like leaving. Change occurred on his terms when he was good and ready. It was the look in his eye, the tone of his voice, everything that made Adam Adam which had altered since we set foot in the house, and now that I thought about it, had begun to creep in since he’d hung up the phone earlier. It gave me a sick feeling in my stomach, because I realised how utterly serious Adam was about leaving this world and I knew, if he attempted it again, this time he would get the job done, he would not stop until he was successful.

It was one thing to help someone who wanted to be helped, which I felt Adam was quite open to in Dublin. Here, in Tipperary, I felt he’d already closed the door and emotionally detached himself from me. He spent most of the day sleeping with the curtains drawn in an enormous room with an open fireplace and a couch area, which Adam insisted he would be sleeping on later, but for now he was in the bed and I was sitting, legs up on the window seat, in the bay window which looked out over Lough Derg. I listened to his breathing and watched the clock, all the while conscious that we were wasting time. Time, in this case, was not a healer; we needed to be talking, fixing and doing, I needed to be challenging and supporting him, but I couldn’t do any of those things because he had retreated, detached and withdrawn himself, and I was scared.

I checked on Adam again; he was definitely asleep. His hands lay palms up behind him on the bed, his arms raised as though in surrender. His blond hair fell over one of his eyelids and I reached out to move it. He didn’t wake and my finger remained on his soft skin a little longer. He hadn’t shaved that morning and barely noticeable white-blond stubble glistened in the light. His lips were together, pouting that way he did when he concentrated. It made me smile.

Maureen appeared at the open door, and knocked gently to get my attention. I was startled and pulled back my hand as if caught doing something wrong. I wondered how long Maureen had been there. She smiled at me in a way that suggested she’d noticed my tenderness with Adam and, embarrassed, I made my way to the door.

‘Sorry to disturb you, but I brought the extra blankets Adam asked for.’

They were for the couch, so I placed them there.

I could tell Maureen wanted to ask, but instead she said, ‘And, well …’ she looked across at his sleeping body, ‘there was a phone call for Adam.’

‘I don’t think we should disturb him,’ I said gently. ‘You can tell him later. Or is it urgent?’

‘It was Maria.’

‘Oh.’

‘She tried calling his mobile, but he’s not answering. She wants to know if he wants her to come to the funeral. She said they had a few problems and she wasn’t sure he’d want her here or not. She doesn’t want to upset him.’

‘Oh …’ I looked at Adam and tried to figure out what to do. The Adam in Dublin would have wanted her. This Adam needed her, but this wasn’t the Adam Maria had fallen in love with and was falling for again. I was determined they should meet when he was back on form. Maria, seeing him like this, or being treated the way she had been previously, would send her running straight back into the arms of Sean. I would have to talk about it later with him but I was sure he would agree with me. ‘I think he would prefer her not to be here, but it’s not because he’s upset with her. Please let her know that.’

‘Okay. I’ll tell her,’ Maureen said gently. She cast a quick look at Adam again, obviously wondering to herself: Should I trust this lady? Should I ask him myself?

It was when she was down the hall that I chased her, more comfortable speaking with her when Adam was out of earshot.

‘Maureen …’ I wrung my hands together. ‘We’re not … together. Adam and I. He’s not very well lately, he’s having a few problems, personally.’

Maureen nodded, as if this she knew very well.

‘He wouldn’t appreciate me saying anything. I’m sure you know him better than me, but I’m trying to … help him. I have been trying to help him all week. I thought it was working. I don’t know what he’s usually like, but in the days following our initial meeting, he has seemed … lighter. This has set him back a bit. Though I know there’s never a good time to lose someone …’

‘You met Mr Basil?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well then, you’ll understand when I say that, despite working for him for thirty-five years, we weren’t exactly close.’

‘The same could be said for his son.’

Maureen pursed her lips and nodded. ‘I’m sure you won’t take this any further, but Adam,’ she lowered her voice, ‘he has always been sensitive. He has always been hard on himself. He could never let go of things easily, even the smallest things. I tried to be there for him, but Adam preferred to deal with things alone, quietly, and Mr Basil … well, he was Mr Basil.’

‘I understand. Thank you for the insight, and I assure you I won’t repeat what you’ve said. I literally haven’t taken my eyes off him for the week,’ I explained.

‘Most women can’t.’ She smiled and I blushed, tellingly.

‘For reasons I can’t explain, I can’t let him out of my sight. Hence the bedroom situation, but I really need to go somewhere now and I wonder if you could keep an eye on him for me? I’m sure you have lots to do for tomorrow, but I’ll only be an hour. If you wouldn’t mind?’

I placed a chair outside the bedroom door for Maureen so that he wouldn’t be freaked out to find her lounging on the couch at the end of his bed.

‘Please ring me if he wakes, goes to the toilet, anything .’ I cast a worried glance at Adam in bed, trying to decide whether to stay or go.

‘It’ll be fine.’ Maureen placed a warm hand on my arm.

‘Okay,’ I said nervously.

‘She was right,’ Maureen said.

‘Who was?’

‘Maria. She asked me if Adam was here with a woman. Someone pretty who seemed to be taking care of him.’

‘She did?’

‘Yes.’ Maureen nodded.

‘What did you say?’

‘I told her she would have to discuss Adam’s business with Adam.’

I managed a weak smile. ‘Thanks.’

I found Pat in the service kitchen, tucking into an egg sandwich. I was already dreading the drive in a confined space with him; speed and now an egg to top it off. I tried to politely wait until he’d finished, but knowing Adam was upstairs without me caused me to pace nervously.

‘Fine,’ Pat said, forcing the final half of the sandwich into his mouth, pushing back the chair, downing his cup of tea and standing up. He grabbed the car keys and headed to the car.

Mary Keegan, Dick Basil’s right-hand ‘man’ lived twenty minutes away on an impressive patch of land. When I found no answer at the house, Pat pointed me in the direction of the stables and went back to the radio blaring sport in the overheated egg-fart smelling car. He had been right about her whereabouts. I stood at the fence and watched the elegant woman on horseback as she jumped the obstacle course.

‘That’s Lady Meadows,’ a voice said behind me, and I turned to see Mary. She was dressed for the occasion: wellington boots, a warm fleece with a padded waistcoat over it.

‘I thought I was watching you.’

‘Me? Certainly not!’ she laughed. ‘I wouldn’t have enough time to be as good as that. I’m only good for morning gallops and hunts. I do love hunts.’

‘Lady Meadows is the horse or the woman?’

‘The horse,’ she laughed. ‘The woman is Misty. She’s a show jumper, competes professionally. Almost made the Olympics last time, but her horse Medicine Man broke his leg in training. Maybe next time.’