Warning: violence! I am not so aggressive; most of the violent scenes
are hints from the "In Deep" series!
Ballykissangel – In Deep Crossover Fiction
by Thistle
(translated from the Hungarian by Thistle, edited by Margaret Pattison)
After Peter said goodbye to Brendan, he went to the hills. He thought that
he needed peace and quiet.
But on the second day he gave up. The peace and quiet hurt him. He wanted
to be a face in the crowd, where he would be nobody. He wanted noise and
people. Unknown people who didn't know him.
He wanted to be in a dirty city. The nature was too clear and pure to his
thoughts. The harmony and the silence were uncomfortable for him.
He went to Manchester and found his real father. The man whom he had called
his father in his childhood was just his mother's husband. Thomas Clifford
was a good man. He loved Peter's mother. He just wasn't on the same page
with Peter. He was a good worker, and he never accepted that Peter was a
more contemplative boy.
He hated his real father. James O'Hanlon had left him and his mother before
he was born.
His Mom always told him that he was a gift. God's gift to her.
He was always God's. It was evident for him that he wanted to serve God.
He served him. He was His. And He took away everything from him.
He took away his Mom. He could cope with that. His mother wasn't too old,
but she was ill. He knew that could happen. He saw people die. And it happened.
He was sad, but he had a place where he was wanted. And it meant very much
to him.
And after that, he lost Assumpta. And that was the point. His life became
empty. He did the christening for Niamh's sake, and left.
He didn't lose God. Actually, he didn't decide that He was or wasn't. He
was not interested in God anymore.
In Manchester he met with his father, and with his half-brother. James O'Hanlon
tried to be nice with him. Peter hated him.
For everything.
He didn't hate Will, his brother.
He completely ignored him.
He never thought that he could feel completely nothing for somebody.
But it was better to be with them, than alone in the woods. He had somebody
to hate. And it was a feeling after all.
He lost his faith, his Love, he lost his mother, and he lost all places that
he could call his home. He didn't have anything, but an argumentative and
assertive father, and an always broke and down and out brother.
He left them after two days. They had a life and he wasn’t a part of it.
He had too much energy to sit there and talk with his father or be a pizza-boy
like Will.
He went to London, and wallowed in the dirt of the city. Roamed the streets,
and was adrift among the people.
Nothing could convince him that he had something to live for. He was in fights
in front of bars, and never asked anybody what they were fighting for. It
was just good for him.
He tried everything: drugs, booze, and girls. Sometimes just to get a place
to sleep.
Every time with every girl he thought of that day. The day when Assumpta
got him to break his vow. As if she had known that they didn't have time.
There on the lakeside he was completely happy. Till that night…
The drug-dealer liked him. He always liked desperate people, he lived from
them. But he really liked him. He looked innocent. He asked him to work for
him. He had plans with the boyish looking Peter. Soon he was his deliveryman.
Not a dealer, just a messenger. He taught Peter to fight. Peter didn't have
a gun, just a knife. A gun was too hard to explain to the cops, and too expensive
to get rid of, if he was caught.
And he was caught sometimes.
Sometimes by the police, and sometimes by other gangs. He had got a few scars
on his chest, and one on his thigh, till he got to the level where he was
able to defend himself.
Third time when he was at the police, one officer talked with him.
They offered him a job. Not just a job, but a new identity.
As an undercover detective.
He accepted it. He didn’t feel any loyalty to the gang, so once he just disappeared.
Went back North and told his plans to his father. The police hid him in the
army. He got a military training and he got a new personality. He changed
his name to O’Hanlon. His Christian name was harder. He took on Assumpta's
father's name. He wasn't really sure that Garth Fitzgerald would like him,
if he would be still alive, but after all it was just a name.
His father was happy that he took on his name, and Will was too. Peter -now
Garth- knew that he exposed them to danger with that, but he didn't mind.
Oh how he was sure that he didn't mind! It was his personal revenge.
After the training Garth O’Hanlon Undercover Agent was send back to London.
He got a flat from the police, in an apartment house, and on his first day
he met with Liam Ketman. His partner.
Ketman was an average cop before, and he was a nice man with a nice family.
Garth felt easier that Liam hadn't known him before.
He showed the work of the agents to him.
They told him to keep the relations with the underworld. His acquaintances
from the gang became spies unwittingly.
He went back to his dealer, who immediately put a gun against his head, and
asked him where he had been.
He told him that wherever he had been, he knew his way around guns now. The
dealer cocked his gun. Garth started to think about that if there was an
afterlife or a heaven, he would meet with Assumpta.
Involuntarily, he started to smile.
The dealer put his gun down, and shook his head with a smile.
“You are a hard man. What do you want?” He sent his man for a drink, and
they sat down.
Garth asked him whether he could get a gun from him, and they made a deal.
Garth knew the police's guns, he could identify them in a moment when he
worked on the street, and he didn't want to use them.
It would be a complete giveaway even from a newbie like him.
Ketman introduced him to his family. To his wife Pamela, his daughter Nicola
and his son Max. Nicola was fifteen, and Max was eleven.
Pamela invited him for dinner, and he accepted it. For the first time after
one and a half years he sat at a family table and ate proper warm food with
good people, and a had friendly chat.
He was stunned how weird that was for him.
At the end of the day Pamela asked him to take care of her husband. Peter
promised that.
The Ketman family was his first peaceful human relationship as Garth.
At home he lay down and thought what Assumpta would think about his new job.
He was sure that she would like it. She would have liked everything that
didn't involve the church.
The feeling that he wasn't able to make the world a better place inspired
him to do that now. And this time he chose the gun.
As a priest he saw many deaths. But not so much violent death. Killers don’t
usually call a priest.
Once he looked at his own files in the police registry. “Dealer, messenger/deliveryman,
chauffeur of the mafia.” Once in a fight he hurt a guy badly with his knife.
In the files he saw that later he bled to death. It was self-defence but
he learned many things on the street, and his anger was fresh.
He wasn't upset.
Peter knew that Garth was taking the command over him.
He didn't mind. He didn't mind this whole schizophrenic situation. As Garth
he felt safe.
Sometimes with Pamela and the kids he felt safe enough to be Peter again.
But it was painful. So he stayed Garth, and let Max be afraid of him.
He was desperate. He hadn't anybody to fear for. He had nobody and nothing
to lose. They couldn't take Assumpta away from him once more. He went to
the missions as if he never wanted to come back.
Liam had to hold back him sometimes.
He killed with his gun the first time when he defended Liam on a mission.
He got into a row with his boss for it.
It calmed him. He was glad that he pressed out some human feeling from that
cursed world.
That human life still counted.
He never felt the strength to go back to Ballykissangel. As Garth, he couldn't
do that.
But once Ballykissangel came to him.
The stupid Donal Doherty made trouble. His stubborn Irish head got into an
argument in a bar. One guy of Garth's old gang, Jimmy, started to hit him.
Garth signalled him to bring Donal out to the parking lot. Jimmy did it.
Garth had a reputation there. He was the Boss’s friend.
Donal was drunk, and he wasn’t a strong man. Garth followed them, and stopped
Jimmy. Donal lay on the ground curled up.
Peter was angry.
“What the hell is he doing here?” he steamed inside, but Jimmy and the gang
were around, so he had to keep his role.
He turned Donal over with his leg. Donal protected his face with his hands,
and mumbled something out of his bleeding mouth.
“Father?”
Garth laughed evilly. He looked at Jimmy.
“He hit his head somewhere? He thinks I'm a priest?” Jimmy laughed too.
“You are always in black.”
Garth kneeled down to Donal, and tapped his head with the muzzle of his gun.
“Or he thinks I'm God himself? Who can dispose of his life…?” He cocked his
gun, and Donal started to tremble. He wasn’t drunk now. The adrenalin was
stronger than the alcohol.
“Go home, Irish boy… And keep your mouth shut.” As Donal nodded, Garth’s
gun tightened on his throat. Garth straightened up.
“Let’s go.” He waved to Jimmy to go, but as he started to stand up, Donal
sat up. Garth knew that he recognized him, so he turned back and hit him
down with the grip of his gun. Donal went sprawling on the ground.
After a week he called Brendan.
“Hallo.”
“Hello Brendan.”
“Peter?”
“I was.”
“You were??”
“I am an undercover detective now. I changed my name.”
“Oh, then who am I talking to?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“I see. So, I don’t have to ask you what’s up with you, because you can’t
say anything. But I am glad that you are calling me. You are alive, and you
have a job. That’s enough for me.”
“Yes, I am alive. Donal went back?”
“Donal? Yes, has been here since a week ago. You knew that he was in England?”
“I know many things.”
“I don’t think Donal is in the Military Intelligence files. However, somebody
whacked him badly there. He has a bump on his head and a few scars on his
side. He is swearing that he’ll never leave the village anymore.”
“Right.”
“He said that the man who did it to him looks like you. Nobody believed his
story. But… You did that? You know about him from first hand?”
“I did. My man would have killed him if I hadn't knocked him out.
“Your man? Your man would have killed Donal for an argument and you stopped
him by putting a gun against his head?!? He lay on the street for eight hours!”
“I am not that man you knew.”
“I see now. I didn't even know your name. Please, take care of yourself,
my friend!”
“I have nothing to take care of.”
“I am sorry that it happened this way. But you fight for a good cause. And
that is good… My second daughter was born a few weeks ago. You should come
for the christening.”
“Thank, but I can’t. Congratulations.”
“You didn’t ask what her name is.”
“Sorry. What is it?”
“Assumpta. We call her Tatty. She was a really crumpled baby.”
“That’s nice.” Peter asked a few more questions, and they hung up.
Garth enjoyed his work. He enjoyed the role-playing which meant that he didn’t
have to hold back in anything.
Soon he had enough money to move into a bigger apartment.
Ketman knew him instinctively. He let him be the “bad cop” in the Good Cop
– Bad Cop tactics.
When they worked on the “Untouched” case Garth’s father went into hospital.
Garth’s father.
James O’Hanlon never became a father figure for Peter. But, he was part of
the Garth personality. The annoying father. There weren’t family bonds, but
it was a pain to lose him. He hated him, and hated himself for not being
able to see him in the hospital. Then Will called him, and told him that
their father had died.
But they were at work. At a party at a delinquent’s house. In a room Garth
found a guy who offered him cocaine.
Garth hoped for some relief from the lines.
It worked for a while.
When they left the party Liam drove to a car wash. Garth stayed in the car.
After a minute he broke down. The stuff boosted the pain as well as the good
feelings.
He climbed in the back of the van, and let his tears fall.
He was in pain, and he was scared.
The last links with the world were running out.
There was Will, but the link, their father was dead.
And there was Liam. He helped him out, and talked about the wonders of adrenalin.
What it can do with the body. Garth let him.
He also let Liam bring him back to Liam's home.
Pamela was understanding, and he got the spare room.
He slept two days.
In the evening, Nicola popped in. She sat on the edge of his bed.
Garth just stared at the ceiling.
“Go away,” he whispered to her. He didn’t want her to see him in this condition.
Nicola went away.
Garth closed his eyes, and thought about Peter.
Who he was.
Peter had friends. Neighbours. A congregation. Feelings.
He was still in the self-pitying mode when Nicola came back.
She sat back on the edge of the bed, and started to put down the things from
her hand.
She brought one black T-shirt of Liam’s, a towel, a bottle mineral water,
some Aspirins, and a packet of biscuits.
She looked up at him, and smiled slightly.
Garth sighed.
“Where is the bathroom?”
Nicola pointed to the other door, and stood up.
“You should come down for dinner,” she said and left. Garth scrambled to
his feet, and went to shower.
Before dinner, Ketman knocked on the door.
“I see Pam looked after you.” Garth was surprised, but didn’t say anything.
“Will you come down to eat?” asked Liam. Garth shook his head. Liam left
him there.
After dinner, Nicola came back. She sat down on her usual spot. Garth smiled
painfully.
“Your Mom sent you?” Nicola shook her head.
“No. Dad told her to not disturb you.”
“Thanks for the stuff.”
“No big deal. You need something else?”
“No thanks. You can go…”
But Nicola stayed. Curled up, and leaned against the head of the bed. Garth
stared into space. Somewhere deep down he appreciated the company of the
girl, but it was too good to wallowing in the self-pitying.
He was glad that she didn't want to talk. He had known Nicola for a
year. She was a chatty girl. And now she was silent.
For him.
They spent an hour in silence. In a weird way, Garth felt better.
He closed his eyes.
“Go now. We have to sleep,” said Garth in a calm voice, and he almost smiled.
Nicola studied his face then stood up and went to the door. At the doorway,
she had a slight smile on her face.
Garth saw her smile, but he couldn't read her face.
He didn't know what the girl wanted from him.
The truth was simpler than he thought. Nicola liked him.
Maybe she was in love with him in a teenager-girl way.
Next day Garth asked Pamela to let him stay for the weekend. He ate something
and went back to the room. He slept till night.
Nicola knocked for him to come to dinner. He just lay there and didn't answer.
His mind was empty.
Or he thought it was.
When he fell asleep, he started to dream.
He was there in the same house, but he was trying to save the house from
attackers. Liam fought on his side, Pam and Max were in panic and Nicola
helped them reload the guns.
When Nicola was hit, he shouted and went back to the fight with double-strength.
Everybody in the house heard his shout.
Nicola ran down to Garth’s room. Her father was there.
“Bring a cold pack!” he asked her.
When Nicola put the cold towel on Garth's forehead, he calmed down.
“I’ll stay here for a while, Dad. Go back to sleep.”
“Thanks. Don’t stay too late.” Liam went back to sleep and Nicola wiped Garth's
temples.
Garth opened his eyes and looked at Nicola in deepest pain. Nicola was serious
and calm. But she was alive.
“It was just a dream.”
Garth nodded and looked away. Nicola put down the towel and put her cool
hand on Garth's forehead.
“Go to sleep. Nothing will happen.” Garth obediently closed his eyes. The
pictures of his dreams flashed up, but Nicola’s cool hand signalled him that
they were just nightmares.
Garth relaxed and breathed deeply.
He woke up in the middle of the night. Nicola was sleeping there at his side.
He got up and carried her to her bed.
With that girl in his arms he felt something that he hadn't felt since many
years ago.
Caring, fondness, love.
He was stunned.
Next day he went down to eat with the Ketman family. Max studied him with
big eyes, like he was always trying to see his guns. Pamela chatted and Liam
and Nicola answered her.
That day Nicola brought a school book and her notes to his room too. She
put them on the nightstand, and sat in her place. Garth smiled and sat up
against the headboard.
“What’s that?”
“History. Irish revolutions.”
“Of course. An O’Hanlon knows everything about the Irish…”
“That’s good,” she said, but didn’t reach for the book.
“I am not Irish. My father has Irish origins, but he never lived there. And
I lived there just for three years.” Nicola listened to him. She didn’t seem
surprised.
“I was somebody else in those times,” Garth confessed.
“What happened?”
“She died. My Love died, my Mom died, my faith died.” Nicola bent down her
head.
“Tell me.” Garth shook his head.
“I don’t want you to…”
“I am not a child.” She cocked her head. Garth studied her thoughtfully,
then smiled.
“You are not a child.” His gaze slipped down on the nearly adult girl, and
he licked his lips. Nicola returned his look and smiled slightly.
“That’s right sir…” She smiled with poorly concealed pride. Garth stretched
himself, leaned back and laughed.
“Garth?” Liam knocked. Nicola reached for her books.
“Come in.”
Liam was surprised.
“Are you learning?”
“Yes, Dad. Irish revolutions. I thought Garth can help me.”
“She doesn’t bother you?”
“No. She turns my mind from the self-pitying… You know how many things they
have to learn? It’s awful!” Liam knew Garth. He knew when he was telling
a lie. But he didn't understand what for. He thought that maybe Garth didn't
want to refuse his daughter if she turned to him with her trouble. And that
would have been a gracious lie. So he asked him once more.
“You sure you didn’t mind?”
“No.”
“Don’t stay too long, Nicola.”
“OK, Dad.”
Liam left, and Nicola put down the book.
“Dad knows who you were?”
“No. He would be surprised. He has known me since the police lifted me from
the dirt of London.”
“And your father?”
“He didn’t know me. I saw him for the first time two years ago.”
“Huhh. What did you do in London?”
“Everything. I was a delivery man.”
“You delivered… drugs?”
“Yes.”
“That’s dangerous.” Garth didn’t answer. Nicola nestled closer.
“Why do you do this job?” She stroked his hand carefully.
“Nicola…” sighed Garth painfully.
“Come here.” He put his arm over the girl’s shoulders. “Little Nicola… I
lost everything. The girl I loved, my parents, my job, my whole life. The
friendship with your father is the only feeling I have with the human race.
I am able to do this job, because I have nothing to lose.
I love your family, but the people I love, die. Last night in my dream… I
dreamt that you were shot. You see? You were here for an hour with me, and
I prepare for the worst…”
“I’m not going to die.” Garth looked down.
“They can blackmail your father with you.”
“Dad would die for us.” Garth tightened his grip on Nicola’s shoulder.
“You are lucky to have a father like him.”
“Yes.”
“Garth, is it a problem that I am here?” she asked hesitantly and reached
for his hand. Garth let her touch his hand.
His soul smiled on the brave girl.
“If it would be a problem, you wouldn't be here.”
“No, I just… It’s not usual that your colleague’s daughter asks you sticky
questions, and… comes to your bed.” Garth laughed shortly.
“Little Nicola… I am twenty years older than you… I’m not going to lose my
head…”
“I see…” said Nicola, a bit disappointed, but she played on the safety that
Garth’s answer offered her and leaned against him. “Don’t let me do anything
stupid, OK?” she whispered. Garth stroked her shoulder.
“I won't…” he promised, then he smiled broadly. “At least not until you turn
eighteen…”
Nicola laughed.
“I’m just sixteen!” Garth shrugged and laughed with her.
He laughed. He never thought he would be able to laugh again.
After the weekend with the Ketmans he started to open up again. He started
to notice the policewomen, and sometimes he went to a pub with his colleagues.
He stayed the arrogant and arrant O’Hanlon, but there was a tiny window on
his shield now.
The next time when he went to the usual and compulsory meeting with the psychologist,
he had a surprise. The Indian woman had left, and he found a new woman there.
Liam didn’t tell him that there had been changes.
But his fame preceded him. Sophie, namely Doctor Masterson, got his files,
and read them before their meeting. She was curious. O’Hanlon had the worst
description, the most behaviour notices, and a mysterious past.
And when they met she was surprised. Garth was reserved, a bit stuck-up,
but kind. And they talked quite well. She was perplexed. She didn’t notice
that madness in O’Hanlon which she had heard of from the gossips.
Garth couldn’t decide whether Sophie’s interest was official or not. He liked
her. He liked to meet her. He chose the simplest way. He asked her for a
date.
At first Sophie laughed at him. It didn't hurt Garth. He was more interested
to see her laugh. Sophie got serious.
“Am I the only woman you talk with?”
“No. Actually there are three more women I talk with. But you are… how can
I say… The most notable.”
“More notable than the young blonde Ketman girl?”
“Nicola is special. But she is like a niece for me.”
“You made me curious. You can feel.”
“I am able to.”
“You rarely show it.”
“It’s an occupational risk.”
“OK. Let’s set a date.”
Nicola started to go to self-defence training, and Liam asked Garth to practice
with her. Nicola’s teenager adoration for Garth passed, and they started
to talk after their practices.
Nicola started her life and Garth started his new one. They were on the same
page.
Garth knew everything about Nicola’s boyfriends, and told her to be careful.
And Nicola was the first who heard about Sophie. She gave the advice to Garth
to slow down, and court Sophie in a proper way.
Sophie was enchanted when the famous O’Hanlon gave her a flower.
One white rose.
Not a red one.
Not a flaming one.
But a pure and simple white.
And that was him.
He wasn’t in flames. But his thoughts had cleared up.
He, Garth O’Hanlon, wanted a family.
With this woman.
Soon.
He wanted ugly, shouting babies, and sleepless nights.
He wanted to be a father.
“Father…” he considered. “To be a father…” He had never thought about having
a family with Assumpta. They would have been glad if they could have gone
through the village resistance. One scandal was enough for a time.
But six years had passed.
“Ballyk would have changed since then… Eamonn has presumably died. Maybe
Kathleen or Father Mac too.” He smiled. “Kathleen not. She wouldn't give
that pleasure to anyone. That witch will live thousand years.” And Brendan’s
daughters. The little Tatty. He had never met her.
Nicola was on her way home from school when her mobile rang.
“Hallo.”
“Nicola? It’s Sophie Masterson.”
“Hello Sophie. What’s happened?”
“Garth is in hospital. He's not allowed visitors, but I am his psychologist
so you can come in with me. I don’t know if you want to see him?”
“Yes. Yes, but why do you think that…”
“You are at school now, aren’t you? I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”
“Hello.”
“Hi Nicola. Let’s go.”
“Why did you call me?”
“Garth doesn't really have a family, does he? But if he has, you are a member
of it. And I want to be friends with his family.” Nicola thought for a minute.
“It is serious?”
“He was lucky as always. He isn’t in serious condition, but he was banned
from work for a while.”
“That’s good. You two will have time for each other.”
“Has he talked about me to you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you two talk over things?”
“Yes. And Sophie…”
“Yea?”
“He didn’t plan anything before. This was the first time that he wanted to
come back alive from a mission. Because of you.”
“Thanks for telling me that.”
Garth lay in the bed, pale and drowsy because of the painkillers. One of
his shoulders, his thigh and the right side of his torso were in bandages.
He smiled when he saw them.
“My two guardian angels together. Have I died?”
“Hi Garth.” Nicola smiled, and Sophie nodded kindly.
“Hi.”
Garth gave her a warm smile.
“Hi.”
“How are you?”
“I've been worse.”
“Worse than now?” Sophie was surprised. She knew Garth's files, he had been
injured a few times, but worse than three gun-shot wounds…? Garth smiled
ironically.
“The physical wounds not the worst.” Sophie bent her head. Garth lightened
the mood. “So if you don’t mind I will wear white on our next date too.”
“Sorry.”
“Never mind.” They smiled at each other and Nicola was glad to see them.
Sophie sat down a bit farther.
“And what’s up with the school and with John?” Garth grinned and Nicola pouted.
“He is still Josh, and we are well. He invited me to a party.”
“Be careful, little Nicola.”
“I am able to defend myself.”
“On the street, yes. But in his bed?”
“Do you think that he wants…?”
“I am sure that he wants.”
“Ouch. Okay. Thanks for the caution. And you know this is a perfect opportunity…”
“For you?!”
“No, of course not! For you! Sophie was worried for you. She loves you.”
“But I am a wreck now.”
“You are not a wreck, you are injured. And a girl can’t say no to a hero…”
“Well… OK. Would you go to the hallway?”
“Good luck Garth!”
“Relax, I don’t like hospital-sex.” Garth grinned. Nicola laughed, and went
out.
“Thanks for bringing her in.”
“Not at all. Do you want to talk with me? You sent her out.”
“Yes, I want to talk with you. About us. I mean it.”
“Nicola said you didn’t plan things before you met me.”
“That’s true.”
“I heard many bad things about you. Everybody warned me about you. How is
it that the man I got know is so loveable?”
“I was angry and desperate once. It passed.”
“I want to plan with you. Get well soon!”
“I’ll try. Sophie… Nicola always will be a part of my life. Don’t be jealous.”
“I won’t. I know that she is some kind of family for you. That’s why I brought
her here.”
“Thank you. You two should talk. She knows me very well.”
“OK. You should rest now. You deserve it.” She kissed his forehead. Garth
lifted his hand on his intact side, and pulled her head back for a kiss.
Sophie kissed him, and they smiled at each other.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
While Garth was in the hospital, Liam worked with
the background staff. The situation between him and Pamela sharpened. Pam
wanted safety.
They initiated divorce proceedings when Liam was working on case of the “Dark
Angel”. After a few weeks, Garth joined him. The victims both were members
of the same Internet dating site.
And Pam became the third.
Liam was crazy after Pamela’s death. He and Max were completely embittered.
Nicola tried to hold the field, but she also cried through the night on Garth's
shoulders.
The situation turned around completely. Liam had got desperate and it was
now up to Garth to keep an eye on Liam. His only worry was to bring Liam
home in one piece for the kids.
And this personal loss led him to call Brendan again.
“Hallo. Kearney here.”
“Hello, Brendan. Garth… Ehm. Peter. Peter Clifford speaking.”
“Hi, my friend! How are you? Are you still in London?”
“Yes. And thanks, I am fine. My life is a bit more orderly now.”
“Are you still a detective?”
“Yes. Still against the world. But with less passion.”
“Life goes on, doesn't it… Maybe you've found somebody for you?”
“Maybe. I am trying to start a serious relationship. I am trying to not screw
up.”
“I’ll cross my fingers for you.”
“And how are you? How old your girls?”
“6 and 3. Aisling will start in my school at fall. Tatty is still little.
She is more daddy’s girl. Aisling inherited her mother’s hair, but Tatty
is brown like I was. She looks like her namesake.”
“You can say her name. It doesn’t hurt me now.”
“I’m glad to hear it. We still didn’t rename the pub.”
“And what’s with the others? Is Eamonn still alive?”
“No, we buried that poor devil a year ago. Brian passed too. He travelled
somewhere, and we haven't heard about him since than… Ambrose died, too.
In the line of duty. As he did everything… Niamh remarried. A family is tending
to Fitzgerald’s with two children. We went through two priests since you.
What should I say… Father Mac wants to retire and Hendley’s is in Nora’s
hands now. Daniel is a resident DJ at a regional channel.”
“And Michael, Podraig?”
“Podraig went after Kevin; we haven't seen them for years. Michael is well;
he's got a medical student working with him for a few months for vocational
training. He is a clever guy. I want to ask you to tell about yourself, but
you are so mysterious…”
“I can tell, but you know, Peter Clifford hasn't existed for 6 years. No
one knows here who I was. But if I die, you will be informed. Who I am? A
lonely warrior who tried to open up to people in this year. I have some friends,
a woman who I date, a family I'm friends with. A girl, who is my special
friend. She is a wonderful creature, but she is 20 years younger… ”
“Gross mistake…”
“That is. I caught some dealers, drug barons, paedophiles, aberrants, serial
killers, and godfathers… I have been shot, stabbed, and strung up. After
having known him for one and a half years, my so called father died. I have
a flat, and a schizophrenic personality, and I strengthened it with every
case… That’s me in a few words.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad that you are alive after that, and more that you have
friends. You were softer before. ”
“I was trained. Tell Siobhan, Michael and Niamh that we talked.”
“Of course, my friend. And if you want to come here…”
“Maybe once… If I have somebody to go with.”
“All right. Thanks for your call. And good luck!”
“Thanks. Bye.”
Sophie and Garth got married in a short civil wedding.
When Nicola finished college, she was “Aunty” to two cheeky little O’Hanlon
boys.
Garth never went back to Ballykissangel.
Twenty years later
Nicola was visiting her sons at college when a big grey car stopped next
her.
“May I invite you for a test drive?” an unknown man asked her. The world
started to spin before her. It was the second time someone had stopped for
her like that. She remembered how her mother was scared every time when they
did that. That was the secret sign from the police that something had happened
with her father.
She remembered how she was scared, when her father died on a mission a few
years ago.
But now… Her husband worked in a book shop and she had just said goodbye
to her sons…
‘Garth!’ she thought, but just nodded to the men. ‘But Garth has a family,
why have they come for me?’
“Can you tell me what happened?” she asked in the car. The man nodded.
“Garth O’Hanlon died. We told his family, but he always had a clause for
you in his files in case he died, and we don’t know how urgent that message
was.”
“I see.”
They went to the police, and they gave her a letter. In the envelope was
a letter and a key. She ran her eyes through the letter. It was just a note,
that there was a box for her.
“Nothing urgent,” she told the officers. “You know this key?”
“It is for one of the lockers from the changing-room.”
“Lead me there.”
“It’s in the men’s!” said the younger one. The older just waved.
“This way ma’am.”
In the locker was a cardboard box. It was sealed shut.
Nicol thanked the officers and they brought her back to her car.
At home she opened the box. On the top was a letter.
Dear Nicola,
You always wanted to know who I was. Here is the whole story. You gave me
a new life when you pulled me out of my misery. In return I give you my old
life. It is a sad story, but you are a brave woman I know. Please don’t tell
this to my family.
Please call this number, and ask Mr Kearney. Tell him who I was. He will
be proud.
Love,
Garth
Nicola called the number immediately, but it didn't ring. The number was
dead.
She rang her husband and told him that Garth had died.
Jonathan clouded over. He liked Garth. He liked that Garth was still in on
every joke they had with the boys, though he had turned sixty. The two O’Hanlon
boys were at university now and his two were in an illustrious high school.
But they were friends and they spent a lot of time together.
“Hon? You hear me?” she asked again.
“Yes, of course. What did you say?”
“Garth left me a phone number, to tell a man that he died. But the number
doesn’t work. I thought that I should travel there.”
“Where?”
“To Ireland.”
“Ehm… Okay, darling. You want me to go with you?”
“You don't have to. I’ll find those people and come home soon.”
“When do you want to go?”
“Right now. I’ll call you from the airport.”
“All right.”
She went back to the box. Three diaries, a white oblong plastic bookmark…
She put it in one of the books. A birthday card. A few photos. Garth in a
priest suit. Maybe at a fancy-dress party. An old picture of a couple, and
a girl’s photo. Maybe she was the one who died. Garth had told her that his
love had died. She studied the picture. The girl was young. So much younger
than she is now. She felt sorry for her.
She put it all in her bag and packed in some clothes.
On the plane she started to read the first diary.
She was in a dream all along. Garth was a priest. The plastic thing wasn’t
a bookmark. It was his collar. The picture wasn’t made at a fancy-dress party.
It was his uniform.
And his name was Peter.
That was something unbelievable.
She read the last few pages on the bus. She cried through the next hour of
the journey. The green valleys were exactly as Garth wrote it.
The driver said Ballykissangel, and she grabbed her bag. The bus stopped
before Fitzgerald’s.
She was stunned. Everything was as in the diary.
She looked around and went in the bar.
A girl smiled at her and left a tall old man at the end of the bar.
“Hello. May I help you?”
“Yes. Hello.” Nicola smiled at the girl. “I need a room.” The girl went to
the desk, and opened the book of reservations.
“You should sign here. You’ll get room 4. My name is Assumpta.” The pen stopped
in Nicola’s hand.
She looked up, startled.
“Fitzgerald?” she asked, flustered. She had just read an hour before that
she had died. And that was decades ago. But she roughly looked like the girl
on the photo. She shook her head.
The girl laughed kindly. Her brown hair flew around her shoulders.
“No. Kearney.”
Nicola felt the old man’s look in her back.
“I am looking for a Kearney. Brendan Kearney. You know him?”
“Who are you?” asked the old man right behind Nicola. That gave her a jump.
Assumpta smiled at her.
“He is my dad. Brendan Kearney. And you are…” She looked in the book. “Nicola
Summers.” Nicola nodded.
“Can we talk, Mr Kearney?” The man nodded and they sat at a table.
“You came from England?” asked Brendan politely. Nicola studied the old man’s
face.
“Yes. Mr Kearney. A friend of mine asked me to come to you. He wanted me
to tell you his life.” Brendan bent his head.
“Peter… Has he died?”
Nicola’s heart sank.
“Yes. I am sorry.” Brendan slowly nodded.
“Me too… I think I know who you are. Once in a phone call he told me about
a girl who was twenty years younger than he, but she was his special friend.
Is that you?”
“Yes. Garth… Ehm… Peter worked with my father for seventeen years.”
“Please tell me about him, Mrs…”
“Please call me Nicola.” Brendan smiled.
“Thank you Nicola. When did he die?”
“This morning. In a hospital in London. He hadn't been conscious for a week.
I tried to call you, but it was an old number.”
“Thank you. We have many things to tell each other. You mind if I call some
of his old friends? They will like to hear about him.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
“Tatty! Call Michael and Siobhan!”
The girl hurried out from the kitchen.
“Are you okay, Dad?”
“Of course I am! You remember the story about Peter and Assumpta?”
“Sure! That was my favourite story. So sad, but so beautiful!”
“Right. This lady knew Peter. She will tell us his story.”
“I'll call them right now.”
“Just a few minutes. This is a small village.” Nicola nodded.
“I have some photos about him and his family.” She packed out pictures from
his bag.
“He had a family… I haven't talked with him in twenty-some years.”
Nicola smiled.
“His sons are great boys. Both in Oxford now…” Brendan sighed and looked
at Nicola.
“I am really curious now.”
The door opened, and Siobhan and Michael went in. Brendan introduced Nicola
to them and they all sat down.
Tatty brought a drink for all of them and she sat beside her father.
Nicola looked around and started to tell.
“The man whom I knew wasn’t really Peter Clifford. He changed his name before
we met. I knew him as Garth O’Hanlon…”