“Yeah, yes I did thanks.”
I wanted to burst out laughing with the ridiculousness of my answer.
“We should grab a coffee sometime, get a proper catch up.”
“Yeah I’d like that,” she said, a genuine looking smile appearing behind the war paint and carefully constructed exterior, “I’d better run. See you Vicky.”
Driving back from Hillsborough, my good mood remained intact. Auntie Grace really was doing a little better and her eyes had sparkled when I came in. On a whim, I detoured and took the back-roads out to Roselawn Cemetery. I always find cemeteries more manageable on a nice day. Not that I visit as often as I should. I parked around the far side, avoiding the crematorium area. As usual there was a hearse at the opened doors and another waiting just behind. The car park beside was bunged. It doesn’t matter if you’re a prince or a pauper – everyone gets only a half hour slot on the production line.
They’re all dying to get in there.
Sorry reader. Excuse my gallows humour, but perhaps I’ve earned the right to use it.
I had picked up some flowers in a garage on the way, then I set them down on the edge of his grave.
“Hi Dad,” I said out loud, looking around self-consciously.
“Well, if you’re looking down on me, then you know what a shit-storm I’ve had this last week.
Excuse my language.
I’m sorry I haven’t visited you for a while and I just wanted to say… I love you. I also wanted to say, well I know that you did your best.”
Tears started to run down my face.
“I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and I think maybe… I blamed you a bit for what happened to Mum. I know that’s wrong. Maybe I thought you should have… I don’t know – made her stop or something. But the fact is one person can’t change another person and I get that now. I’ve seen some of the worst of this world now. You got a rough deal with Mum and then you had a daughter to bring up all by yourself. I always knew that, but now I get it. I just thought I should tell you that. Bye Dad.”
Then I went home.
***
“You ready, Vick?”
“Yeah, just a sec.”
I put my phone down. Mike had rung to say he was outside. I grabbed my bag and flew out the house, slamming the door behind me.
“Right, let’s do this.”
A few weeks more had passed and things had remained calm. No heat was on us. The media interest had settled down too. We set off towards East Belfast, around the roads that had so recently been full of horror for us. A local radio station offered us the latest bland pop hits and explained how to win tickets for a reality show tour coming to Belfast. We parked up by Holywood Arches surgery and I dropped some money in the meter. It was a lovely day. I felt a little apprehensive, but not too bad. Mike looked well – every time I saw him the worry seemed to be receding further from his face. We nipped around the side of the community building and through the outside hub area. Mike lit up a smoke as we passed The East Belfast Arts Centre. A regeneration project had seen it built, along with an outdoor performance area and artists pods beside. With C.S Lewis hailing from that part of Belfast, a local initiative had created a really cool outdoor series of wire and metal sculptures there too. We passed below Aslan The Great, mounted on top of a mound, then turned out onto the street passing the Narnia wardrobe itself. We headed on, crossing the busy road and passing over the river Conn. Waiting for another set of traffic lights to change, I glanced back to where a mural of men in balaclavas with guns once adorned a terrace wall. Now there’s a mural of other famous faces from East Belfast – Van the Man, Gary Moore, George Best, Eric Bell and many more. I liked it better this way. The East was becoming ‘gentrified’. We nipped down two side streets and Google Maps told us we had arrived at the right place. This small run-down building of offices looked like it hadn’t changed any since The Troubles. The faded red brick and moss-covered slates were surely an embarrassment to the new city.
“This is definitely a good idea, isn’t it?” I said, stopping beside Mike.
“Yeah I think so – I mean – we need to tie up these loose ends don’t we?”
“I know, I know. You’re right. I just needed to say it again out loud. Okay, let’s do this.” I paused again, “And this guy is definitely who we want?”
“Yeah, like I said – he really helped my brother-in-law out of a spot.”
“And he’s discreet?”
“Yes – totally discreet.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, more resolved, “let’s go then.”
I needed to be sure. Somehow we had made it through this far, we couldn’t afford to fuck it all up now. We rang the buzzer with the name Brian Caskey – Investigations beside it. A hiss of white noise emanated from the intercom. After a few seconds the door clicked open. The hall was musty and dimly lit. The offices on the ground floor boasted a phone screen repair shop, a vape juice store, and a t-shirt printers. We made for the stairs and headed up to the first floor. No lifts here. His was the only office still in use upstairs – right down at the end of the hall.
I raised an eyebrow and Mike rapped on the door. There was music coming from inside. The door opened right away and the music was released – psychedelic blues escaping down the echoey hall. It sounded pretty cool. He stood there looking unassuming and also not seeming to care that he was smoking a cigarette indoors. It wasn’t those
