‘For three of us?’
‘Yes, you can use leftovers for sandwiches or soup if you like.’
She had also made mashed potato and a carrot and parsnip puree, like something from a TV cookery show. ‘Will you set the table, darling?’
I pulled the table out from the wall and unhinged the flap to make it as big as it used to be when Mum was alive. Dad and I always ate dinner in front of the television on trays. But we always had lunch in the kitchen. This was the wrong way around.
Although it made me a little nervous, Aunt Christine talked in a soothing way, describing how she had prepared the dinner, recalling when she and Jean had gone shopping in Arnotts and had bought the same set of plates, how she was glad to see they were still in use. She sounded like Mum, and if I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that Mum was back, though I knew it wasn’t possible. It was nice to think about.
‘Where is Angela?’
‘She had to pop home to feed the dogs and do a few things. But she’s coming straight back.’
‘Shall I get some wine from the cabinet?’
‘Oh, I think we had enough alcohol earlier. Do you have sparkling water?’ I did.
On my way out to the sitting room to get it, I stopped dead in my tracks and then ran to my bedroom. I pulled the bedclothes apart. I ran back to the kitchen.
‘Where’s Toby?’ I shouted at her.
‘Darling, I –’
‘Where is he?’ My cheeks were getting hot. My head was spinning.
The doorbell rang.
‘That will be Angela. She can explain.’
I let Angela in. ‘Where’s Toby?’
‘Calm down, Sally, breathe in for four –’
‘Did you take him when I was asleep?’
‘Yes, I did. Toby is a toy, Sally, but it might be possible to find out where he came from. I went to the garda station in Roscommon with the bear, the box and all the wrapping. They will send it to a lab in Dublin and a forensic team will –’
‘He was mine!’
‘Sally, be reasonable, you –’
I lashed out at Angela with my fists, punching her in the face, the stomach, her arms. She folded her upper body into a ball, leaning forward, putting her hands over her head and her elbows in front of her face. Aunt Christine dragged me away.
‘Sally! Stop this at once.’ Aunt Christine had my mum’s angry tone.
My temper abated as quickly as it had surfaced. I sat in the chair in the hall. Aunt Christine led Angela into the kitchen. I heard the two of them whispering. I had done a bad thing. Again. Really bad. I rocked back and forth in the chair. I could not control my emotions. Maybe I should be locked up.
‘Angela, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I lost my temper.’
She was holding a bag of frozen peas to her jaw. Aunt Christine was standing over her. Thank God there was no blood.
Angela put her hand up to stop me talking, shook her head and winced with pain.
‘Jesus, Sally! You were out of control. I had no idea that you could be so violent. That kind of behaviour is completely unacceptable.’
I could tell Aunt Christine was angry, and as I moved towards her, she stepped back. She was also afraid.
‘I don’t know why I did that, I don’t even know why.’
I could feel the heat rising in my face again.
‘Something about the bear has triggered you, Sally,’ said Angela. ‘That’s why it has to be investigated. If your birth father sent it to you, it may be possible to trace him. We don’t know, but we must try. Think of the damage he did to your birth mother, and to you. I will be fine, but you could have seriously injured me. How often have you had violent outbursts like this before?’
I described the seven incidents in detail, three when I was seven, one when I was eight, one when I was nine: Mum had later said they were childish tantrums. Once when I was fourteen with the man at the bus shelter, and the last time in school a year later when a girl at the desk behind me cut off one of my pigtails. I was nearly expelled but got away with a week’s suspension. I broke her arm. I had to write her a letter to say how sorry I was.
‘And nothing like that between then and today?’
‘No, I swear. Can we please get Toby back?’
‘No,’ said Angela, ‘absolutely not, look at the effect it had on you.’
‘It’s not a good idea,’ agreed Aunt Christine.
‘Am I going to jail?’
‘No. But you have to understand how serious this is, Sally. You are an adult woman. If I went to the guards, they could lock you up. You must never, ever strike another person again. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Angela, but –’
‘Do you understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘Under the circumstances, Christine, I don’t think I can stay for dinner. I need to go and lie down at home. Would you mind driving me? I walked out here from the village.’
‘Yes, no problem.’
‘Thank you. It will only take a few minutes.’
They both ignored me. A sizzling sound came from the oven as the front door shut behind them. I turned it off. The chicken was slightly burnt on top.
I tried to put things into perspective. I was not going to jail. Angela was going to be fine. Aunt Christine was now scared of me. Why had I lost control like that?
I carved the chicken and served up the vegetables on two plates and opened a bottle of sparkling water and was pouring some into Aunt Christine’s glass when she returned.
‘I don’t know what to say to you, Sally. I think Jean was right to be worried about some decisions Tom made regarding your development. But Angela thinks it’s not too late.’
‘What’s not too late?’
‘You need a lot of therapy, darling, because you can’t go on like this. It’s not normal.’
‘My life is normal to me.’
‘That’s the problem. Tom never pushed you to make … corrections. You should have friends, a social life, a job, a partner if you want. There is so much you have missed out on and you don’t even realize it.’
‘Dad said that in his last letter, that he had made mistakes, but there’s nothing wrong with me, except that I’m a bit odd.’
‘You just physically attacked the one person who has always been there for you. You will need to make it up to her. How do you think you will do that?’
‘I could buy her flowers and write her a letter.’
‘That is a good place to start, but how can you ensure that you won’t attack anyone again? You need help.’
I knew she was talking about psychotherapy. That’s what Mum wanted me to do when I was in school.
‘I guess I could try seeing a therapist?’
‘Angela will be relieved to hear that. Make sure you put it in the letter.’
That night I went to bed and thought about Toby and where he might be.
It was Christmas Eve the next day and I just wanted to be on my own. I had allowed Aunt Christine to hug me when she said goodbye. I apologized again. She said we would keep in touch and that I should visit them in Dublin after Christmas when I had a few therapy sessions under my belt. I wasn’t sure about that.
I sat down to write a letter of apology to Angela. I added that I would agree to go to therapy if she thought it would stop me from harming people I cared about. I told her not to worry about the bag of peas. I could easily replace them at the Texaco. I wished her and Nadine a happy Christmas and told her I’d stay on my own for Christmas Day.