Have you heard the one about the traffic warden, he asks. As he was being nailed into his coffin, he regained consciousness and hammered on the lid to be let out. I’m sorry, said the undertaker, but the paperwork’s all done now.
We both laugh.
I’ll drop you a text about Sunday. He drives off, his arm out the window in a grand farewell.
Twenty
Later that evening, after hours of playing, and showing the kids Rooster videos which they’re not as interested in as I’d hoped because he doesn’t play the up-to-date season of Fortnite, I put them to bed and download Instagram. Time to set up an account. I have Facebook and Twitter accounts that I never post anything on, they’re just for looking at what other people are doing. Every now and then when I’m in the mood I post a comment. You get the most fun out of riling up the perpetually offended.
Most people at school have private Insta accounts, but plenty don’t. They’re happy to display their lives; travel, nights out, favourite motivational quotes. The person I’m looking for is Daisy Starbuck, with an account by the name of the Happy Nomad. Her profile photo is of her smiling happily with cliffs in the background. Non-Irish ones. Somewhere exotic. Somewhere far away. There’s a breeze in the air and a few strands of her blond hair have blown across her face. She’s looking away from the camera, an enormous open-mouthed smile that reveals her perfect teeth and glowing skin. Oozing happiness, confidence, freedom. Her bio reads: Here. There. Everywhere. Happy.
Daisy was in my year at school. She was enormous. Not in size but in personality and character. To me she glowed, she stood out in every room. All students liked her, even the bitches. The teachers liked her, even the bitches. In transition year she starred in the lead role in Grease when we paired up with the local boys’ boarding school for the annual production. I was a stagehand. She ended up dating Finn, who played Danny. They were the sweetest couple, the kind of couple you were so sure would end up getting married. More mature and settled than everyone else, they went on proper dinner dates and acted like grown-ups together. They broke up in sixth year just before the leaving cert exams because her parents were worried about them being too serious and wanted her to focus on her studies for her final exams. The entire year felt like we’d broken up with him too. I think he was so distraught he had to repeat his exams. Don’t know if I quite wanted to be her but I wanted to watch her as you would a favourite film, and listen to her on repeat as you would a favourite song. She had a magnetic effect, she drew people in, but unlike other popular girls she didn’t use that power and loyalty for her own ends. She was nice and she was kind. I was never her friend, never in her inner circle but now that I know what I know because of Tristan, I wonder what being in that circle would have done for me. Maybe in that supportive tight little group of five people, who all ended up doing exactly what they wanted to do in university and who knows what since, maybe it could have rubbed off on me and I would have become a garda.
I haven’t seen her since our leaving cert result party, but I’ve often thought about her and wondered about her.
I can’t just sit around waiting for Amal, Katie and Ruth to write back to me. I need my five people sooner rather than later. I need to be who I want to be sooner rather than later. I don’t have time for natural development, I’ve got to move this evolution on. It’s time to reach out.
Though Daisy was always kind I don’t expect her to remember me or befriend me instantly. I need to lead her to me, reel her in. I comb through the internet for travel photos, amateur but impressive ones, and I copy and paste my favourites into my account and save them to drafts.
I spend time thinking of captions that someone like Daisy would like – usually humble, inspiring phrases. Always positive but not so much that it’s saccharine. She does humour too, but she’s clearly a person in search of herself and is doing a good job of looking.
I dispense with the cheesy inspirational quotes and try to find the happy balance. I need to retain a part of me too or I won’t be able to keep up the charade. I find a photo of a sunset over Valentia. Caption: Home. Happy contented face emoji.
I think of my morning walk to the village, the pathway through the trees, and post a photo of the sunlight beaming through a tunnel of trees. Caption: Breathe. I use a yoga girl emoji.
I find a coffee and Belgian waffle photo, a hand holding it that could pass for my own. It’s set up on a pretty mosaic table with flowers and a little blurry view of water and green in the background. Seated outside. Caption: Treat time. A cake emoji and face with tongue emoji.