The Things I Should Have Told You Page 23

  ‘Has anyone seen a little blond boy, aged seven, wearing a blue t-shirt?’ I shout to the few people who are on the shore.

  Everyone shakes their heads. ‘Please, if you see him, his name is Jamie, keep him here, don’t let him move.’

  I run up and down the lake shore and scream his name over and over.

  Nothing. Evie and I look at each other.

  ‘Would he go into the water? Did he say he wanted to go into the water?’ I scream at her.

  ‘No,’ Evie says. But she looks doubtful. If he’s in the water … Oh God, I can’t breathe …

  I run to the water’s edge and start wading in, screaming his name over and over. By now there are people all around me, calling his name too. I see two men in the water with me.

  ‘Mam,’ Evie screams, pulling at my arm. ‘What are you doing?’

  I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m running around a maze, hitting brick walls. I stop and stand in the water to look around me. It’s still, bar the wind-surfers, who are skitting along the lake.

  ‘They would have seen a little boy, wouldn’t they?’ I say to Evie. ‘If he came out, they would have seen him if he were in trouble.’

  A man shouts to me, ‘I’ve been here for the past hour. I didn’t see a little boy near the water. I don’t think he could be out there.’

  The men beside me tell me that they will stay in the water, to go back and keep looking.

  I turn to wade back to the shore and see a path towards a wooded area. Fear returns. Someone’s taken him. I know it. He’s been abducted while I had a sauna. I want to fall to the ground and close my eyes from my horror but instead I start to run towards that path. I quicken my pace, but I’m hindered by wet trainers. So I throw them off and continue barefoot, screaming for my baby all the time.

  I no longer am thinking about him drowning, now I’m imagining a stranger greeting Jamie and leading him by the hand into the woods.

  I run faster than I’ve ever run before in my life, my eyes darting in all directions.

  ‘Mae,’ I hear Olly’s voice chasing me. He grabs me around my waist and halts me from my frantic search.

  ‘The staff have started a search party. We’ll find him,’ he says. He sounds reasonable and calm and I slap his hands away from me. Later I will find out that he’s vomited a few moments earlier, from the same fear – that our boy is taken.

  My head is spinning but I cannot stop until I find my son.

  Then without any warning, it starts to pour with rain. The sun disappears and clouds darken the landscape. The once-pretty vista now looks ominous.

  ‘Jamie,’ I scream again, ‘Baby, where are you?’

  Evie and Olly are shouting his name too and I’m aware of others around me, helping in our search.

  ‘What if we don’t find him?’ I say to Olly. ‘It’s getting dark.’

  ‘We’ll find him,’ Olly repeats, but I notice that he’s white as snow and sweat has soaked his shirt.

  ‘Sshh … did you hear that?’ I say, turning towards the sound.

  We stand still, the three of us and listen.

  ‘Mammmmy …’ A child’s voice. It’s Jamie. He’s calling for me.

  I start running towards the sound of his voice, calling his name over and over.

  ‘Where is he?’ I shout to Olly, frustrated that he has not appeared in front of me.

  We stop and look around us, then Evie shouts, ‘Look over there. In those bushes. I can see something blue.’

  We run towards that flash of colour, all three of us shouting for him. I hear his voice again, weaker now, ‘Mammmmy. Daddddddy.’

  And then I see my baby and nothing else matters. He’s on the ground and crying, ‘Mammy, I hurt my leg.’

  I crawl over to him and he’s soaked to the skin. But he smiles through tears now that we are by his side.

  ‘Sshh. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re here now,’ I tell him and scoop him into my arms.

  ‘Mammy,’ he sobs and I begin to cry too, heaving sobs that rack my body. I hear Evie crying too. Olly holds onto her and wipes tears of his own away.

  ‘Danke. Danke,’ I hear Olly say to the helpers and word begins to spread that we have found him.

  ‘We need to get out of the rain,’ Olly says, and picks up his son in his arms.

  The manager of the campsite looks like he might cry with relief too when he sees us emerge. He leads us into his office, where he calls a doctor to check out Jamie’s leg.

  It turns out to be just a sprain and other than a few scratches as he fell down, he’s unharmed. An hour later, we go back to Nomad and tuck him up in a makeshift bed on the sofa.

  ‘I just wanted to practise my superhero moves,’ he tells us. ‘But then I got lost and I couldn’t find my way back. I was running super-fast, then I tripped.’

  ‘It’s my fault,’ Evie says. ‘I was looking at my phone. I didn’t see you go.’

  ‘We’ve all learnt a lesson here. We need to be more careful. All of us,’ I tell them. ‘But you …’ I say to our son, ‘No more running off.’

  ‘I promise, Mam,’ he says.

  I walk into our bedroom, Olly follows me.

  ‘What would we have done if we had lost him?’ he says.

  ‘We’d have blamed ourselves for the rest of time,’ I reply. ‘And we would have been right to. That’s a warning. We can’t leave him alone for a minute. We shouldn’t have left him with Evie. It’s not her responsibility.’

  ‘Agreed,’ he answers.

  ‘For a few moments there, I was convinced he’d been snatched. Or drowned,’ I say to Olly.

  ‘Don’t,’ Olly replies.

  ‘We’ll have to stay put this evening. To give his leg a chance to heal. The doctor said keep him off it overnight and he should be fine,’ I say.

  ‘What about you?’ he asks, looking at my feet, which are scratched and bloody from my barefoot run through the woods. He walks to the bathroom and comes back with a dampened towel and begins cleaning the cuts.

  ‘You need to keep your feet up too,’ he says, giving me a hug.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say and I am. I’ll never complain about anything ever again. I head back to Jamie and snuggle under the duvet with him. ‘Let’s see if we can find a movie to watch,’ I say to him and Evie.

  ‘Can I sleep with you tonight, Mam?’ Jamie asks.

  I hug him close and look at Olly, who is nodding at me. ‘Yes. You and me can have a sleepover tonight. Dad can sleep on the couch.’

  ‘Nothing like Mammy-hugs after a bad fright,’ Olly says and fresh tears threaten to fall. I think of the insecurities I have spent months worrying about and am shamed at how trivial they are. Who cares who Jamie needs more? All that matters is that he is safe and loved by both Olly and me. I hold him tighter.

  Jamie looks up to me and says, ‘Mam?’

  ‘What, darling?’ I say to him, my heart bursting with love for my little man.

  ‘I’m starving,’ he announces.

  And with that we all start to laugh – uncontrolled, hysterical laughter.

  ‘That’s my boy,’ I say.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dear Olly and Mae

  So it’s Auf Wiedersehen to Germany. Until we see you again. I much prefer that, than goodbye, which seems so final.

  And drum roll here … say ‘Gruus Got’ to Austria for week three. That’s hello, to you and me.

  You will be making your way to Vienna, via Innsbruck and Salzburg. It looks like a wonderful drive with lots to do along the way. I’ve made some bookings for campsites that I think you’ll enjoy.

  I’ve two events organised for you this week. In Salzburg, get ready to sing ‘Edelweiss’ because I’ve arranged for you all to go on a Sound of Music tour. This one is for Mae. She’s made us sit through that movie every year at Christmas now for near-on twenty years. I’ve a feeling that she might like to release her inner Maria.

  When you are in Vienna, I want you all to learn a new sk
ill, one that I think you should enjoy. You’ll be learning how to waltz.

  What’s it the kids do now? Twerking, Evie told me. Nobody waltzes any more. Beth and I did, we were quite good, if I do say so myself. I loved holding her in my arms, whizzing around the floor.

  Well in Vienna, the waltz is as popular as ever and you’ll be learning it in a palace. I wish I’d have had the chance to bring Beth to Vienna. She’d have loved it there, I think.

  There’s romance in every turn of the floor, I promise you. It has a sneaking, disarming charm that I think you’ll find irresistible.

  When I close my eyes now, I imagine what the trip will be like for you all. At first, when I dreamt this adventure up, I just wanted to give you all a distraction from your regular life. But the more I’ve worked on the itinerary, the more I hope that you are being influenced by everything you are experiencing. With each new destination, I hope that you are being exposed to new diverse cultures. I hope that you are all beginning to look at the world with different eyes.

  I suppose you could all be back home in Wexford by now if it’s all gone wrong. But I hope not. I’m going to have faith that you are all grabbing the opportunity to learn not just about the places you are visiting, the people you meet, but more importantly, about yourselves.

  With love,

  Pops x

  Chapter Thirty

  OLLY

  The room is quiet as we all take in Pops’ words, digesting this latest missive.

  ‘If you thought my German was pants, wait till you hear my Austrian,’ I say.

  ‘German is the official language there,’ Mae says, smiling at me. ‘We might even get fluent yet.’

  ‘We need to get some basic phrases learnt,’ I say. ‘I mean, we can’t be fluent, but I think it’s only good manners that we at least try to have some stock sentences ready that we can use.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Mae says.

  ‘Fancy doing that for us?’ I nudge Evie. ‘Just prepare a list of phrases that we might use every day and teach us lot as we drive along?’

  I’m half expecting her to give me a dirty look, shake her head vehemently and stick it back into the goddamn iPod. But I’ve noticed that Evie is unsure of herself. And she never used to be like that. She was always fearless, but those stupid girls have knocked her confidence. She just needs to start trusting herself and her abilities. Maybe giving her a few jobs, some responsibility, might help build her up.

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ Mae says.

  Finally, Evie looks up and says one word. ‘Okay.’

  ‘That’s my girl.’

  ‘I’m not doing any dancing,’ Jamie declares. ‘Superheroes don’t do twirling.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Mae asks. ‘Remember what Pops said, grab every opportunity.’

  ‘I had to go horseriding, so you have to dance, dude,’ I say.

  I wait for his retort, but he surprises with, ‘When is Pops coming back, do you think?’ I think I’ve misheard him.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

  ‘Pops, when does he come back again? He said that he’d always find a way to come back. I just wish he’d do it soon.’ The whole time he speaks, he keeps playing with his toy on the table in front of him. ‘I miss him.’

  And then he starts to cry. Silent tears at first, spilling in big fat splashes onto the Formica table. Then, as if a dam has burst inside of him, he starts to sob loudly, his skinny little frame shuddering.

  I thought he was doing okay. More than okay, as he seemed to be more interested in playing than talking about Pops and his death.

  Mae has scooped him into her arms and is gently rocking him.

  ‘I miss him,’ Evie says.

  ‘I’m sad too, guys. We all are,’ Mae says.

  I search through the briefcase and pull out the bundle of letters, untying them. I flick through them, till I locate the first letter. I want to find the exact words, here it is!

  But grief is inevitable. So I’ll not tell you to stop crying.

  ‘It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to mourn his absence,’ I say, pointing to his words.

  ‘Remember, Pops is here, in our hearts,’ Mae says. ‘I am in awe at how much he loved all of us. That’s what keeps me going.’

  I grab some kitchen roll and pass it to Mae, to help mop up Jamie’s face. That’s the thing about grief and loss. You think you are doing okay, then suddenly you are on your knees, hobbled by it.

  ‘Just think of how much work he put into this trip. How thoughtful he’s been,’ Mae continues and we all nod.

  ‘Do you think he’s going to come back?’ Jamie asks.

  ‘I think he’ll find a way to let us know he’s thinking of us. He always does. I speak to him a lot. In my head, I tell him stuff and sometimes I can hear him, see him,’ I say and this seems to mollify him. His breathing regularises and his tears stop.

  ‘Go to Daddy,’ Mae says, passing him over to me for a cuddle.

  ‘You okay?’ She turns to Evie.

  Evie shrugs.

  Mae picks up the letter and passes it to Evie. ‘I think your first translation should be finding the word for lederhosen!’

  ‘I’m not wearing any lederhosen,’ I say. ‘Don’t be getting any ideas.’

  ‘And don’t even think of making dresses out of curtains for me,’ Evie says, a smile beginning to come onto her face.

  ‘Oh, you’ll all be singing the hills are alive by the time that tour is over. I know you lot,’ Mae says.

  I pull out the battered atlas and open up Austria. And the four of us huddle over it, heads touching, as we look over our route for the next week. Germany has been a mixed bag for me. Parts of it were incredible, others not so good.

  We leave Germany with the anticipation of a new week in a new country at an all-time high. For me, Austria feels like we are venturing into unknown territory. I notice the changing landscape around me and slow Nomad down.

  ‘Kids. Take a look at that,’ I say to them and am gratified to hear suitable oohs and aahs from them in response. We are looking at snow-covered mountain tops, with waterfalls and glaciers on either side of us.

  The road is quite good, but even so, I drive carefully. Soon, the peaks of the Otzal Alps stand proud and tall in front of us.

  ‘What’s that?’ Jamie asks as I drive right into the heart of the Tyrolean Arctic.

  ‘It’s a glacier region. No wonder it’s called the most beautiful spot in Austria,’ Mae answers.

  We take our time and whenever I find a spot to park up safely, I do, and we take dozens of photographs. I’ve always felt that Ireland is one of the most beautiful countries in the world, with amazing diverse landscapes. But this here, well, it’s competition for my home country.

  We find a village that looks like it’s straight out of a folk story and eat ice-cream. I think back to our first few days of the trip, licking ice-creams on the beach in Normandy and can hardly credit that we are now here.

  It’s slightly surreal looking at snow-capped mountains in the sunshine and I promise Jamie that I’ll bring him back one day to ski.

  After the drama of Jamie going missing, we stick closer together. Evie, to my surprise, is going for several hours at a time without pining for Wi-Fi. When we find our campsite in Otz, a pretty town that lies on a sunny slope at the foot of the Alps, she doesn’t even mention it once. We’ve begun to find our rhythm as a family again. It’s as if we suddenly have lost our two left feet and are no longer tripping each other up.

  The drive towards Salzburg is another lazy, enjoyable day, enjoying the landscape and beauty around us. There’s a quiet beauty to Austria. Mae said last night that she feels like it’s almost magical. And while I normally don’t go for that kind of stuff, I can see where she’s coming from.

  We have some fun teasing Evie while she tries to teach us some basic phrases in German. She’s taken to my task with surprising vigour and, in fairness, takes our messing on the chin. And despite our proclamations of never want
ing to see another castle again, we all vote to go check out a palace en route, the Schloss Ambras. We stop to light a candle in a beautiful church called the Wiltener Basilica, and I feel a serenity that I’ve not experienced in a long time. The frantic, at times manic and fast pace, of the previous few weeks, has been replaced by this gentler transition.

  And when we spend our second night in Austria in the most basic campsite we’ve come across so far, everyone seems to find it hilarious. A few short weeks back, this would have sent us into complete panic. With no electricity, we just light candles and a barbecue, chatting about our favourite moments of the trip so far.

  ‘Are you tired from all the driving?’ Mae asks me as we set off towards Salzburg early the next morning.

  ‘Best vantage from the driving seat,’ I answer. ‘It’s more fun than I thought it would be. The odd time I’m wrecked from it, but in the main, it’s grand. Honest.’

  Once I mastered Nomad’s little quirks, I’ve started to enjoy myself.

  ‘The difference in you, this week, is quite remarkable,’ Mae says.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, look at you now, drinking coffee as you drive. You wouldn’t even let me drink a coffee in the first week!’ Mae laughs.

  I suppose I’m no longer terrified any more. ‘I thought I’d never get it up that ramp going into the ferry in Rosslare. Look at this now.’ I wave at the steep incline we’re slowly making our way up.

  ‘I always had faith in you,’ Mae says and I feel like a boss.

  ‘And you? Are you won over by Nomad’s charms yet?’ I ask.

  ‘Evie and I were only talking about that very same subject. There are moments that I miss our home. But I’m finding that I’m missing the things I thought I would the most, the least.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Shoes, handbags, stuff. All the gadgets in the kitchen. A hair dryer. When I think of the hours every week I spend blow-drying my hair!’

  ‘And you’ve never looked better,’ I say.

  ‘Charmer.’

  ‘I tell it like it is. But are you glad this charmer talked you into this?’ I ask this quietly, holding my breath.