I’m a hermit crab, Pops. I’ve grown and this is my new shell.
Pops chuckles as I crawl on all fours around the living room. Oh you’re a big girl now, pet, aren’t you. You’re going to need a much bigger shell than that.
I remember this now as Pops and I sit in the living room together twenty years later. The year that I’ve had was one of those years, when I grew, when I had to leave my shell and scrambled to find another. I’ve crawled around, on hands and knees, going sideways to move forward, with a cardboard box over my head, trying to find a place to fit.
Thirty-Two
It’s one of the last boat trips of the day, close to 10 p.m. We’re heading to Reenard’s Point on the car ferry for the final run. I’ve been back working on the ferry for the past few days and it’s not been bad coming back because nothing is the same. Nothing can ever be the same when all the time we’re changing. I stand at the edge after going from window to window, from car to car, taking the payments, and I watch the red clock tower of Knightstown get further away. The evening sky is still light, will be until eleven or so. The great stars will shine brightly soon, Saturn and Jupiter are in line with the moon tonight. Next week I begin a new job as a tour guide for the International Dark Sky Reserve, using laser aids, telescopes and high-powered binoculars to show groups the special sights that have guided me all my life. Like turning over a rock on the beach, I’ll help reveal what’s hidden by day. I can’t wait to start. I realise now that the same stars and constellations have always been above me no matter where I travel, but there’s only one place where I can see it all clearly, and that’s here. Home.
I hear a sound that makes me spin on my heels. It’s coming from Reenard’s Point. An engine. Distinctive. I don’t need to concentrate hard to see, it’s popping out from the landscape, the bright yellow Ferrari amidst the dark, drab fish factory buildings lining Reenard’s Point. As we get closer the car door opens and Tristan gets out. He grins at me. He beeps his car.
What are you doing, I shout across the water as soon as we’re close enough for him to hear. He grins and gets back into his car, preparing to drive on after the ferry has unloaded. I step back and watch in shock as he drives on first, slowly and carefully being the vehicle that it is, followed by the remaining cars in the queue that I ignore and am too stunned to guide to their places. He turns off the engine and gets out of the car with a cheeky grin, loving my absolute state of surprise and confusion. The passenger door opens and Pops climbs out.
Well it’s the first time I’ve been in a Ferrari, Allegra, and my my, that’s what brings the wild to the Wild Atlantic Way, Pops says, grinning at me.
Your dad drives very fast, Tristan says, eyes wide and faux scared.
I know, he drives very … what the … what are you doing, I stammer as I try to compute the vision. Why are you two, how are you … what the …
You left your notebook behind, Tristan says, holding up my gold notebook.
I’d left it behind on purpose. I’d thrown it in the bin at Becky and Donnacha’s. I should have ripped the pages out too, but I’d discarded it because nothing in it meant anything to me any more.
Becky, your landlord, came by my office to give it to me. After she saw the Friday Night Show, by the way.
I do feel a small sense of satisfaction. Quite regularly I like to imagine her expression when she heard my name from the mouth of our new prime minister. I like to imagine Carmencita’s reaction too, but I don’t think anything I do or say could ever win her over and I can’t imagine that will ever stop hurting. That’s a crack that may always remain in my shell.
I’m sorry but I read it, Tristan says.
It doesn’t matter, it wasn’t a diary. Half-written notes to Katie, Amal, and the now Taoiseach. My practised letter to Carmencita. He knew what was in those letters anyway.
There was one page that caught my eye, he says, and he opens it up to show me.
The title was my five people and beneath it, the constellation w-shaped list I’d compiled of the five people I actually spent the most time with.
Number one, he reads aloud and my heart starts banging in my chest. Pops, he says, because he loves me. Number two: Spanner, because he sees me. Number three: Paddy, because he teaches me. Number four: Tristan, because he inspires me. Number five: Genevieve, because she knows every inch of me, warts and all.
The driver’s door opens in the vehicle behind.
Hi Allegra, Genevieve sings. My God, my legs are stiff, wow, this is beautiful. Jasper’s minding the gallery, I’m here for the week, she grins.