Page 10

NOW

July 2023

Lily

Phibsborough, Dublin

The room sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Ben, who sat in his high chair, clapping his hands with delight. Lily’s throat constricted, and her body swelled with love for her little boy.

‘Blow the candles out,’ Lily said, holding the caterpillar cake closer to him.

‘Be careful, Lily. He’ll burn himself,’ Lily’s mother commanded, her hands reaching out to protect him.

Lily rechecked her son’s position. Ben was perfectly safe. She took a deep breath and answered her mother as calmly as possible: ‘I’m out of his reach, Mum.’

And, even though Lily knew that her mother’s micro-managing came from a place of love, it still hurt. From the moment Ben had arrived in all their lives, her mum had become overly zealous in keeping him safe from perceived dangers. Her mother’s constant reminders to keep him safe more often felt intrusive rather than helpful.

In an over-the-top bright voice, Michael said, ‘Three cheers for the big boy. Hip, hip, hooray . . .’

They all joined in, but there was tension in the room now. Lily smiled weakly, feeling her husband’s worried gaze on her.

‘I’ll go make the tea and cut this up,’ Lily said, walking out to the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Her mother was either absent, or excessively supervising Lily, as if she was a member of her staff. She didn’t know which aggravated her more.

Michael followed her into the kitchen and put the kettle on while Lily sliced the cake into eight pieces and placed them on a prepared tray. As the kettle whistled its way to boiling point, Lily took several calming breaths. She always promised herself she wouldn’t let her mother trigger her, but her mum had a knack of undoing all her resolve with one cutting comment. And Lily didn’t blame her. She understood that it wasn’t only love that made her interfere. It was fear too. Because Lily knew that when her mother looked at her little grandson, she saw her beloved Robert too.

Michael moved closer to her and said, ‘I can’t believe he’s three years old. Our little lockdown baby. It feels like a nano-second ago that I drove you home from the hospital.’

‘That ten-minute journey took nearly an hour; you drove so slowly!’ Lily teased.

‘Precious cargo. I have no regrets. I wasn’t taking any risks getting you home in one piece,’ Michael replied with ease.

Lily blew a kiss to her husband, whispering a thank-you. He always found a way to calm her down and make her feel better. She glanced back towards the living room. ‘Do I have to go back in there?’

‘Nah. I’ll grab Ben, and we can make a run for it,’ Michael joked. ‘I reckon we can make it to the M50 before they notice we’re gone. Try not to worry. It’s going great. They’ll behave.’

Lily wasn’t so sure. Her parents had form. At Ben’s christening, her father had to leave early because they’d got into round nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine of why their marriage had ended. It never came to any fruitful conclusion, because neither wanted to discuss the elephant in the room – the little boy who they couldn’t forget.

Michael placed the teapot on the tray and then moved closer to Lily. ‘How are you doing? Truthfully.’

Lily shrugged. ‘I grew up hating birthdays. All family occasions.’ Feeling her husband’s eyes on hers, she continued, ‘The focus was never on the special occasion. It was on Robert. Mum and Dad would buy another gift and place it in a box for him. Frozen in time for when he came home. But he never came, did he?’

Michael shook his head sympathetically, as Lily bit the inside of her cheek to counteract the rush of emotion she felt.

‘Let’s say that birthdays have always been difficult for our family.’ Lily paused, then looked at her husband, her face softening with gratitude. ‘Until I met you, that is. You persuaded me that all milestone moments deserve cake.’

‘Always cake,’ Michael agreed solemnly.

‘And now that Ben is here it’s even easier.’

‘How so?’

Lily thought back to this morning when the alarm went off and smiled. ‘I woke up today thinking about Ben. Only him.’

‘He’s hard to ignore. I never imagined I could love anyone that small this much,’ Michael replied, using his arms to draw a large round circle.

‘I wish it could be the same for Mum and Dad as it is with us two.’ Lily bit back a sigh. ‘I was never enough for them.’

‘You can’t change your childhood, but they are good with Ben, aren’t they? Your mother dotes on him,’ Michael pointed out.

And Lily knew this was true. It was joyful watching Ben with his grandmother. Lily walked over to the sink and washed the cake frosting from her hands.

‘But it always comes back to Robert. You’ll see. Before the day is over, he’ll be centre stage again. For someone I can’t remember, he sure makes his presence felt,’ Lily said, then she put her face in her hands. ‘God, that makes me sound like such a bitch.’

‘It makes you sound human,’ Michael replied. ‘You love your brother and miss him. But you’ve lived in the shadow of his disappearance your entire life. That’s a lonely spot at times.’

Lily looked at her husband with gratitude that he understood her position. And Michael was right. She should give herself a pass. She did love Robert. It was the mystery of where he was that she hated. She glanced back in the direction of the living room and frowned.

‘Dad is crushed that there have been no leads since his TV interview. He was sure someone would come forward.’

‘In fairness, I can understand why he clings to that. Someone must know what happened to Robert.’

A shiver of unease ran down Lily’s spine. She hated it when family or friends began speculating about what had happened that night, because among that speculation were fingers of doubt, often pointed in her father’s direction.

‘Stop worrying,’ Michael said, sensing his wife’s unease. ‘Today is Ben’s day, and we’ll ignore everything else.’

But, now that the subject had been broached, Lily couldn’t shut it down. She touched her husband’s arm and whispered, ‘I could see it happening when I was a kid.’

‘See what?’ Michael asked.

‘Their gradual breakup. It was . . .’ Lily wrinkled her nose as she grappled for the right words to explain, ‘as if they were making nicks in their love. They couldn’t stop themselves. Each time they fought, another dent was cut. Mum became obsessed with the family business, and Dad with finding Robert. It was inevitable that their love would snap irreparably one day.’ Lily shivered, and her eyes glistened as she looked at Michael. ‘It’s so sad. And unnecessary. Because I think, underneath it all, they still love each other.’

Michael cupped her chin with his hand, kissing her lightly, then promised, ‘No nicks, dents or cuts allowed for us.’

‘That I can happily agree to,’ Lily replied.

‘I vote we forget all the sad stuff and try to relax and enjoy Ben’s day.’

‘That gets my vote too.’

Returning to the sitting room, Lily found her mother singing ‘Old McDonald Had a Farm’ with Ben in her arms. Ben loved making the moo moo and oink oink noises. Her dad was joining in too, a big goofy grin on his face.

Michael looked at her with a smug I-told-you-it-would-be-okay look on his face. And she felt the tension begin to disappear as she took in the happiness on her parents’ faces.

No shadows. No pain. No aches from a fateful night decades before.

And it caught Lily, making her throat constrict again, bringing tears to her eyes. She looked at her father and saw that he was watching her mother too, a look of such tenderness on his face as she sang to their grandson.

Why couldn’t love have been enough for them?

Then, mercifully saving Lily from her maudlin thoughts, Ben reached his two arms towards her, calling out, ‘Mama, Mama.’ Lily took him from his grandmother’s arms and pulled her son close. She breathed in his sugary scent and laughed loudly when his hands grabbed her cheeks.

‘My special boy,’ she whispered, kissing his forehead, cheeks and lips.

Was it any wonder her own mother had become an overly protective, at times a control freak, when she’d lost Robert? For years, Lily had been so angry with her mum. But she was finally beginning to understand.

When Robert had become a ghost in their family, her mother had become one too, faded to half herself, with one part in the past and the other in the now.

Lily looked over her son’s shoulder at her mother and father. She turned to them both, her voice trembling with emotion, ‘I love you, Mum. And you too, Dad.’

And they both responded with their own declarations of love. At that moment, all was well with the fractured Murphy family. Ben was their glue, bringing them back together again and offering balm to their open wounds.

After cake and tea, Lily put Ben down for his afternoon nap. As Lily descended the stairs, she found Michael hovering in the hall.

‘I’m sorry. I tried to divert them, but I’m afraid you were right. It’s going to kick off.’

‘What this time?’ Lily asked as her stomach plummeted. She felt so stupid for ever allowing herself a moment to hope that things would ever change.

‘Your dad brought up the interview on Ireland AM . He has the latest age progression photo with him,’ Michael said.

They found her mother putting on her jacket. Her face was tight, and her eyes flashed in anger.

‘I’ll give you a call tomorrow,’ Her mum said in clipped tones, the inference in every word that Lily had allowed this to happen.

‘Please don’t go. Not like this. We’ve had a nice day.’

‘I’ll go. Your mum can stay,’ her dad said, pulling his coat on too. He turned to his ex-wife. ‘I thought you’d want to see Robert. I can see so much of you in this photo, around his mouth in particular. He has the same oval face as you. Look.’

Lily’s mother omitted an anguished groan and said in a strangled voice, ‘It’s cruel. I can’t bear to look at him. Don’t you see? I don’t recognise this man. He’s a stranger to me.’ Then her voice disintegrated to a sob. ‘I want my baby boy back. The two-year-old Robert who loved the moon, chocolate buttons and Peter Rabbit.’

‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ her dad said helplessly to her mum.

Michael stepped closer to him and patted Jason’s shoulder in solidarity. Lily was stuck in familiar ground: standing in the middle of her parents whilst they fired shots at each other, unable to offer comfort to either one, as it would be seen as taking a side.

‘It’s not just me who finds the photographs upsetting. Tell him,’ her mother demanded of Lily, pulling her to her side.

‘That’s not true!’ her dad responded. ‘Tell her, Lily.’

Michael and her parents looked over to her, waiting for a response.

Lily wanted to run back upstairs to Ben’s nursery, sit on the rocking chair and close her eyes to pretend all was okay. But she knew that she had to be honest.

‘I tried to tell you this last week, Dad. I find the photographs difficult to look at too.’ Lily took a deep breath and looked at her parents one by one. ‘And, while we’re on this subject, I think it’s time we let Robert go. Let him rest in peace.’

A stunned silence descended into the room. Because Lily had broken a cardinal Murphy rule. Nobody was allowed to say out loud what they all must have thought privately hundreds of times – that Robert was dead.

Her dad was the first to respond, his face flushed with anger. ‘Why would you say that?’ His voice raised, and he almost shouted, ‘You all think I’m crazy! Don’t you? But from where I’m standing, it’s you who are crazy.’

Michael once again placed a hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder, but this time in warning. ‘You’ll wake Ben. Remember, it’s his birthday. Let’s not ruin his day.’

The anger dissipated from her father’s face. ‘I’ll let myself out.’ With one last look of regret at each of them, he left the house, softly closing the front door behind him.

‘I’m worried about him,’ Lily said, sinking to the sofa.

‘He needs to speak to a professional. Get some support,’ Michael agreed. ‘He’s a man on the brink.’

‘You don’t understand,’ her mother muttered, almost to herself.

‘What don’t we understand?’ Michael asked.

Her mother joined Lily on the sofa, pulling a cushion into her lap, embracing it like a child. ‘You said we should let Robert go Lily. But, the thing is, guilt never allows you to let go.’

‘But it wasn’t your fault. Or Dad’s,’ Lily said firmly.

‘What if it was?’ her mother asked in a whisper.

Lily’s breath quickened. ‘What do you mean by that?’ She’d had enough of tip-toeing around this subject.

‘I can’t . . .’ Her mother began, then stopped mid-sentence.

‘Yes, you bloody can. You will not clamp up and leave me with more unanswered questions. Tell me.’

‘I ask myself every day what we could have done differently,’ her mum whispered.

‘You took a sleeping pill like millions do every night. Dad had a drink. Ditto. You can’t keep blaming yourself.’

‘I’m not talking about any of that!’ her mum replied loudly, her nostrils flaring.

Lily’s mouth dried up. She swallowed, wetting her lips with her tongue. ‘What do you mean then, Mum?’

Fear filled her mother’s face, and she began to rock back and forth, clasping the pillow between her arms.

‘Mum!’ Lily cried, looking at her mother in horror. ‘What did you do?’

Time stretched between them. The air felt dense with tension as Lily watched her mother’s face twitch in pain.

‘I didn’t do anything! That’s the problem. I knew that something bad was going to happen, but I did nothing !’ Her mother slumped further into the sofa. ‘I should have taken the children and run. I’ll never forgive myself that I didn’t do that.’

Lily looked over at Michael, who seemed as baffled by her mother’s words as she was. ‘You are not making any sense, Mum.’

Her mother placed her hands over her face, and when she took them down a moment later she’d composed herself. ‘That will teach me to have a glass of wine. Makes me neurotic. Ignore me. I was overwrought. Talking nonsense.’

Then she stood up and with a quick goodbye walked out, leaving Lily more confused than ever before.