Cecelia Ahern - How to Fall in Love

I had always known, even as a child, how my mother had left the world. By the time I was a teenager, people were constantly telling me how like her I was, and it made me afraid. I came to dread the words, ‘You are so like your mother.’ Then, as I became an adult and learned about myself, I realised I was not my mother, that I could make different choices to the ones my mother had made.

‘So …’ Barry said, backing away.

I didn’t know what else to say. He walked up the steps to ground level and I started to close the door.

‘You were right about us,’ I heard him say suddenly. ‘We weren’t exciting or romantic, we never went anywhere very much and we probably never would. We didn’t laugh like Julie and Jack, or travel the world like Sarah and Luke. We probably wouldn’t have had four kids like Lucy and John.’ He threw his hands up. ‘I don’t know, Christine, I liked how we were. I’m sorry you didn’t.’ His voice cracked and so he took a moment. I opened the door wider to see him.

‘I’ve wished for the past month for you to be miserable, absolutely in the depths of hell. And now I see you like this – I can’t feel that any more. You look worse than I do.’ He shook his head. ‘If you left me because you thought this would be an improvement, then we were worse off than I thought. I pity you.’

That set me off again. He took off down the road. I closed the door and returned to bed to hide from the world.

A few hours later and I still hadn’t moved. I was hungry but I knew there was nothing to eat in the flat and I couldn’t face going out to the shops, looking and feeling as I did.

My phone started ringing and I checked the screen to see who I was ignoring. Detective Maguire. I was definitely ignoring it. It stopped and then started again. I stared at the ceiling, my heart beating wildly. It only returned to a regular pace when the ringing stopped. I waited for the ringing to end and put it on silent.

The phone rang again.

‘Leave a message,’ I growled.

I got out of bed, feeling dizzy when I stood up. Then I thought about Adam and I panicked. Maybe he had done something. I dived for the phone and hit the button to return the last call.

‘Maguire,’ he barked.

‘It’s Christine. Is Adam okay?’

‘Adam?’

‘The man from the bridge.’

‘Why, did you lose him?’

Kind of. But I sighed with relief that he wasn’t hurt.

‘Listen, I need you at Crumlin Hospital now. Can you come?’

‘Crumlin?’ I stalled. It was a children’s hospital.

‘Yes, Crumlin,’ he snapped. ‘Can you come? Now?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m asking you to.’

I was totally confused. ‘I can’t, I, er … I can’t right now.’ I searched for a lie but couldn’t bring myself to do it. ‘I’m not feeling good today.’

‘Well, snap out of it, because there’s someone here who feels a whole lot worse.’

‘What is this about? I don’t have to go any—’

‘Jesus, Christine,’ he said, and it came out almost a sob. ‘I need you to get your ass down here.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Just get here,’ he said. ‘Please.’

25

How to Ask for Help Without Losing Face

Detective Maguire was waiting for me at the main entrance to the hospital. As soon as he saw me, he did what he had done every other time I’d met him and turned around and walked away. I took the cue to follow him. I jogged to catch up, and as I did I looked around for his partner. I didn’t see him. In fact there was no other back-up whatsoever. I rounded the corner and found it devoid of Detective Maguire. A whistle had me running to the open elevator like the dog he seemed to think I was. I joined him and it was then I saw how awful he looked and my stomach churned, sensing the worst scenario ever. I gulped, trying to steady myself; I was not able for all of this, not so soon after losing Simon, after messing up so spectacularly with Adam, after having to deal with Barry. I needed a day alone, but nobody seemed willing to grant me that small favour. I needed to wallow; much could be achieved from wallowing. Perhaps that’s what my book could be about. Christine Rose’s How to Wallow in Your Despair in Five Easy Ways .

‘You look terrible,’ I said to him.

‘You’re not too perky yourself,’ he said, without his usual malice. He was going through the motions, barely engaging. Something was most certainly wrong. More wrong than usual.

‘Who am I going to see?’ I asked.

‘My daughter,’ he said, his voice hollow, empty. ‘She tried to kill herself.’

My mouth fell open and he stepped out of the elevator and rounded the corner. I had to snap out of my shock before the doors closed and the lift descended. I followed him.

‘Uh, Detective, I’m very sorry to hear that, truly I am …’ I swallowed. ‘But can I ask, why did you bring me here?’

‘I want you to talk to her for me.’

‘What? Wait!’ I finally reached out and grabbed him by the arm and stopped him in his tracks. ‘You want me to what?’

‘Talk to her,’ he said, revealing his bloodshot eyes. ‘There’s people here, but she won’t talk to them. She won’t say two words. I thought of you. Don’t ask me why, I mean I don’t know you, but you seem to have a way with this kind of thing and I’m too close to it, I can’t …’ He shook his head, his eyes welling up.

‘Detective—’

‘Aidan,’ he interrupted.

‘Aidan,’ I said softly, appreciating the gesture. ‘I’m not able. I didn’t help Simon Conway, and with Adam I …’ I didn’t want to get into what had happened with Adam.

‘You managed to get Simon to allow you to call us,’ he said. ‘That was good. You talked Adam Basil off the bridge, and he asked for you after that. I’ve seen you with him, in the station – he respects you. Plus I know what happened with your mother,’ he added.

I looked down. ‘Oh.’

‘You know about this. Just talk to her, please.’

I followed him through the ward, a series of corridors and confusing turns until finally he brought me into the ward. Of the twelve beds in the room, only one had curtains pulled around it completely.

I slowly drew back the curtain and came face to face with Maguire’s wife, Judy, her eyes rimmed with red as she held the hand of the girl in the bed. I looked at the girl: thick auburn hair like her dad, honest crystal-blue eyes like her mother.

‘Caroline,’ I said gently. The girl’s left wrist had been heavily bandaged and lay on the bed, her mother held her right hand tight.

‘Who are you?’ Judy asked, slowly getting to her feet but still not letting go of her daughter’s hand.

‘Aidan called me,’ I said.

She nodded then and looked down at her daughter. I saw Detective Maguire’s face crumble in the moment before he turned away and walked out of the ward, as if embarrassed by his display of emotion.

‘Why don’t you get some coffee?’ I suggested to Judy. ‘Caroline, is it okay if I sit with you for a while?’

Caroline looked at me uncertainly. Judy was still hanging on to her hand.

‘I think maybe your mum could do with a break. I bet she’s been here for a while.’

Caroline gave her a nod and I helped Judy let go of her hand. As soon as she stepped away, I pulled the curtain across and sat down beside Caroline.

‘My name is Christine. I know your dad.’

Caroline eyed me warily. ‘Do you work here?’

‘No.’

‘So I don’t have to talk to you.’

‘No. You don’t.’

She was silent as she mulled it over. ‘They keep sending people to talk to me. Asking me why, why, why. They left a bunch of leaflets. They’re disgusting. Insinuating disgusting things.’