Everything I Cannot Say

Lauren pulls the car door shut against the bitter March wind. She could have sworn this time ten years ago was warm enough for a light jacket. She presses the start button and the car whizzes into life. Never mind, she thinks, the heating will come on in a minute.

As she drives down the familiar back roads, she thinks of the argument she’s just had with her mother. Do you have to go back tomorrow? You’re never home. That firm is working you to death. Didn’t she realise that was the best she could do, given the circumstances? She hadn’t said this, of course. She didn’t want to give her any ammunition to go asking questions, digging up the past.

She knows the roads well, swerving at the familiar bends before a stranger would see them. She passes Paddy Mac tying rope to his rusty, old gate and lifts a finger. He nods solemnly. She sees him staring in her rear-view mirror and smirks, knowing he’ll go in and say to his wife, Mary McDonald’s girl doing well for herself with the big fancy car.

As the road gives way to a crossroads with no signposts, Lauren can’t help but think about the first time she kissed Josh Elrod.

The night was clear and moonlight led the path for three girls, whispering to each other and linking arms, as they always did. Occasionally, one of them laughed, a dramatic, teenage cackle and the other two shushed through suppressed giggles. They were coming up to the crossroads and Lauren sucked air through her teeth.To her right, Rachel stopped suddenly.

“You don’t have to do this, Laur,” she said, “it’s not too late. We can go back and just tell Josh your mam caught us sneaking out. He’ll never know.” Cathy on her left nodded and Lauren looked gratefully at her two best friends.

The truth was, she was terrified of meeting Josh. But she was the only one in fifth year who had never been kissed. If she had a boyfriend, someone who wanted her, she knew it wouldn’t fix things, but maybe it wouldn’t matter so much that Rachel was prettier than her.

One night, in a rare moment of vulnerability, she cried to Rachel and Cathy about not having a boyfriend and the very next day, Josh Elrod texted her, asking her if she wanted to meet up.

She looked at the kind faces of her two best friends under the moonlight. She wanted to run back to her house with them, sneak under the covers and laugh at the absurdity of it all.

But she couldn’t. Cancelling now would mean admitting she was scared, and Lauren had an inert rule about showing weakness.

So she smiled at her friends with more confidence than she felt and they carried on, feigning carefree chatter as they approached the dark symbol standing at the crossroads with no sign.

Cathy hops into her old Ford Focus and, like she does every day, prays it will start. She lights a cigarette and runs the lighter over her frozen fingers. Her mother waves at her from her dressing gown in the doorway. She checks the time on the dashboard. She can’t be late to this, she thinks, as the engine sputters into life, it’s only once a bloody year.

The road to the church is familiar and quiet, as it always is this time of year. She waves to old Paddy Mac and he smiles warmly back at her. Her phone buzzes and she knows she shouldn’t, but she holds it up anyway.

Can u come into restaurant early today? Herself needs to go shopping. Sorry x. Cathy doesn’t know what bothers her more, that her boss has forgotten what today is, or that he’s putting his wife’s needs above Cathy’s own, again.

No, that’s not fair, she thinks, both hands back on the wheel. It’s not his fault his wife expects so much from him. It’ll be better soon.

In her heart, she knows he won’t leave his wife for her. He likes being married, she can tell. He isn’t the kind of man who does well on his own. Still, that’s okay. He needs her too, and she likes that.

Sometimes she wishes she could tell her mother about the affair. But she doesn’t want to worry her, her mom is her best friend. Her only friend, a familiar voice says in her head. Cathy steps on the accelerator and speeds through the cross roads with no signs.

*

Lauren pulls into the petrol station and reluctantly makes her way inside to pay. Jake Sullivan greets her from behind the counter.

“Lauren, I haven’t seen you in ages, how’s things?” he punches some numbers on the till. “You’re looking well, business must be good above in Dublin?” Lauren forces a smile. It’s easy to forget how nosey people are here.

“Things are good Jake,” she says non-committedly.

“Good, that’s good. I was down at the restaurant last week chatting to Cathy. She’s looking well. As usual,” he laughs, “You two used to be thick as thieves.” He stops himself then, remembering. “Sure I suppose you’ll see her in a bit,” he pauses, “Josh hasn’t been the same since, you know. He’s still out in Canada, otherwise I know he’d be here.” She scoffs at this. Josh Elrod came for the first year and seemed to think that was enough penance for him. Well, it wasn’t enough for her. Every year she will come back and it will never be enough.

Back in the car, she has just pulled out of the station when her phone buzzes on the seat. She knows it’s work before she looks at it. Soon, she thinks. Tonight, she’ll have a quiet meal with her mother and tomorrow morning she’ll drive straight back up to Dublin and out of this nightmare for another year.

Cathy blasts tinny music from her phone. As she passes the petrol station, she wonders absentmindedly if Jake Sullivan will remember what today is. On the last stretch of country road before town, her chest tightens and she presses the accelerator. Meeting Lauren McDonald again will definitely be the worst part of today.

The end of their friendship began just under ten years ago, when people were already bored of hearing the same stories told again and again. Even her mother wasn’t really listening when she started the one about Rachel replacing Sambuca with water on Junior Cert night, the gleeful panic they’d all felt as the liquid formed a cloud in the glass bottle.

“I know darling,” she patted her knee, “and Rachel took the money she’d been saving for a new phone and bought Lauren’s mam another bottle.”

Her mother didn’t understand that these stories helped ease her out of the shock of it all. Somehow, just for a minute, she could imagine she was back there with her two best friends, standing on their tippy-toes as Rachel poured, in fits of nervous giggles.

When Cathy told the story, there was some small part of her heart that was laughing too.

She thought Lauren would feel the same way. But after the funeral, she was distant. Opening messages and not replying, ignoring her in the frozen food aisle at Tesco. She thought Lauren just needed space, and it wasn’t until she heard in the pub that she was moving permanently to Dublin that she realised Lauren simply didn’t want to be Cathy’s friend anymore. Maybe they were only really friends through Rachel. Maybe Cathy was never good enough on her own.

“I’m going to break up with Josh,” Lauren said to the clouds. She’d waited until they were all lying on their backs in the grass so her face wouldn’t give her away.

“What!” Rachel propped herself up, “Why? Josh is great,”

“Why don’t you go out with him, so?” she regretted this instantly when the other two said nothing. “I think it’s for the best,” she forced an ease into her voice, “I’m going to college this year and let’s face it, he’s going nowhere fast.” She knew it was a mean thing to say, but it was comforting to think she’d be away in Dublin, studying Law in Trinity. She imagined herself coming home at weekends and bumping into him working in some shitty job, never having left Kildare. How he’d regret not wanting her then.

“Staying here isn’t the worst thing you could do with your life, Laur,” Cathy piped up from beside her. She didn’t know what she wanted to do herself, but unlike the other girls in sixth year, she wasn’t too bothered. She’d figure things out when the time came. As long as she had her best friends near her, she knew she’d be fine.

“Of course not,” Lauren smiled, “You two will be my only reason to come back here, you know.”

“Ah, stop that, you love it here as much as we do,” Rachel shoved her. “Now, do you want to tell us the real reason you’re ending things with Josh just before the tickets go on sale for the Debs?”

Lauren sighed. Rachel always knew when she was lying. But she couldn’t make herself say the words. It wasn’t anything he’d said or done. It was the way he was around her, so dismissive, like he couldn’t care less if they were together or not. She’d considered finding a course in Maynooth, just to be closer to him. Finishing her degree and getting work back here in Kildare. But she knew it was just a fantasy.

There was a darkness to Josh. Since the first time they’d kissed back in fifth year, she felt it, a sadness, a depth she could not reach. He was the first one in their year to start drinking. At parties he was the last to go to bed, even when she begged him, he’d shrug her off, so unwilling to succumb to the night, to sit still with his thoughts for even a moment, to sit still with her.

In the middle of the night, when she was lying in bed with nothing to distract her from herself, she was faced with the same thought; the only time she ever saw him happy was when Rachel was there.

“I’m telling you, I just don’t think our lives are going in the same direction. I don’t fancy him anymore. I was thinking about the Debs actually,” she continued in what she hoped was a casual voice, “How about, if none of us have dates by then, we go together? Make a statement, that we’re not waiting around for dweeby school boys to ask us.” “Dweeby,” Cathy cackled. “Well actually, I’m pretty sure Josh’s friend Jake Sullivan is going to ask me,” she paused, “but I will happily blow him off for you two, especially if it’s in the name of feminism!”

“Great, Rach, you in?”“Hmm? Are you absolutely sure about Josh?”

“Yes,” Lauren said impatiently, “I couldn’t care less, I promise you. So, will you come with us?” There was a pressuring silence and Lauren willed Cathy not to break it, knowing she couldn’t stand any friction between them.

“Yeah, okay,” Rachel said eventually, “As long as I’m not asked by someone before then, I’m in!”

“Perfect,” Lauren lay back on the grass, trying to ignore the faraway look she’d seen in her friend’s eyes and the growing discomfort inside her belly.

Lauren and Cathy arrive at the church at the same time, a new, black car, and a second-hand red one parked next to each other, from different lives, worlds apart.

It’ll be over soon, they both think as they smile politely and turn to walk in the entrance together.

They sit in the same place as always, four pews behind Rachel’s family. They kneel dutifully and bow their heads before the alter. Mass begins.

“… and Rachel Evans,” the priest finishes reading the list of names, and nods slightly to her family. Her parents are stone faced and stare ahead.

“Today marks the tenth anniversary of a 19-year-old daughter and friend who was lost too soon on our roads,” the priest begins his homily. “With tragedies like these, guilt and blame are both easily felt and poison to the heart,” he raises a finger, “but we must use our anger and suffering to shape our empathy for others. We are alone without the support from the people in our lives, the ones who we’ve grown up with, the ones who know our mistakes and love us anyway. Those people hold us up. Hold them up.”

As the priest continues, both women have tears in their eyes. Cathy’s hand hovers slightly, as though she might move it closer to Lauren’s, but then the other woman wipes her eyes, and the moment is lost.

Outside in the carpark, Cathy speaks first,

“So, how’s everything in the firm? Keeping busy?” Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at her own mundanity.“Good, I’m working all the time, they never give me enough time off to come home.” There is a pause as both women register the lie.

“How’s all at the restaurant?” Lauren asks then, “does that same creep still own the place? The one who used to follow you around in the pub when we were kids?”

Cathy laughs nervously, “Yeah, same guy. He’s not that creepy, though. He’s a bit… lost, is all,” she pauses. “He’s married now.”

“To the same one he was always with? Remember he used to try to cheat on her the whole time. Must be awful working for someone like that.” Cathy shrugs. How had she forgotten that? Suddenly she wants badly to tell Lauren what she’s doing, to admit how lost and lonely she feels. But they are no longer friends. And so, there is nothing to say.

“You’re actually going to the Debs with him?” Lauren threw back the rest of the vodka, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. They were standing outside the pub. None of them had remembered jackets but Spring was already warming the air around them. They stood, smoking two cigarettes between the three of them.

“You broke up with him five months ago, Lauren!” Rachel passed the cigarette to Cathy who took it, eyes nervously shifting between the two of them.

“That doesn’t matter. We said we’d go together, the three of us. No boys.”

“I said that if no-one asked me in the meantime. I told you when I thought he might ask, and you said you didn’t care! Didn’t she, Cathy?” Rachel was exasperated.

“I don’t know,” Cathy backed away, anxiety clawing its way through her skin. “Please don’t fight! We’ll still get to hang out at the Debs, no matter who goes with whom!” But the other two weren’t listening to her.

“I don’t give a shit about Josh,” Lauren spat, “It’s you I care about. He’s bad news Rach. Everyone knows that. He’s always drinking and taking stuff.”

“Oh stop it. When you broke up with him in the park in front of half the school, he wasn’t bad news then. It was all, oh poor Josh, I hope he gets over me.” She sighed, suddenly looking very tired, “It’s just I don’t know what you’re thinking half the time Laur. You’re never honest with us.”

“Guys, let’s just go inside and-,”

“Shut up Cathy!” Lauren shouted suddenly, “Jesus, this isn’t even about you, stop hanging around like a sad little puppy with nowhere else to go.”

Cathy was stung. “Fine,” she said quietly, “Stay arguing, it clearly doesn’t matter what I say. I’m going to see if the taxi’s free.” She turned and walked away, phone pressed to her ears.

“Great, that’ll be the only taxi in this hellhole gone for a half hour at least.” Lauren shouted after her. She allowed herself to be angry with Cathy too. It was better than acknowledging the guilt that was starting to stir and mix with the alcohol in her stomach. I’ll say sorry tomorrow, it’s only Cathy, she consoled herself and turned back to Rachel, throwing the butt of a cig down a drain.

“Tell me the truth,” she said, “Do you have feelings for him?” Rachel stared back at her and she knew the answer.

“After everything I told you, Rach? You know he can never put down the bottle. You know he eyed up anything with a skirt, even in front of me.” Her voice cracked and she willed herself not to cry. Rachel peered at her, a sudden realisation dawning on her face.

“Is that why you broke up with him? Because he was looking at other girls? Oh Laur, I didn’t know. You always made out like you couldn’t care less about him. If I’d known, I would never have…” she went to hug her friend. Lauren pushed her away. It was too much. She could handle Josh not wanting her. She could even handle him wanting Rachel instead of her. But this, this pity Rachel was subjecting her to, it was too much. Her pride, her ego was hurt and some force deep within her pushed its way to the surface and a wall was up.

“Rachel,” she said, her voice sickly sweet, surprising them both, “let me make this abundantly clear to you. I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit. About Josh Elrod. And I couldn’t care less about slutty girls who ditch their friends for losers either.” She stepped back and at Rachel’s hurt face, felt her power come back to her, her pride restored. The vodka buzzed in her stomach.

Someone came out of the pub from behind them, and stumbled slightly on the last step. He stood up straight when he saw them and lit a cigarette.

“All okay, girls?” Josh said, “Are you arguing? Hope it’s not over me, is it?” he grinned drunkenly at them and in that moment, Lauren saw him for what he was, a boy who was as lost as they were, standing at the edge of their childhood, looking for something to hold on to. Her shoulders slumped and she was about to reach her hand out to Rachel, to say how silly all of this was, when all of a sudden, her friend turned away from her.

“You driving my way, Josh?” she said loudly.

He smiled widely at her and Lauren’s stomach flipped,

“You looking for a lift?”

“Yeah, Cathy’s taken the last taxi and I’m not waiting around here. Didn’t you say earlier you weren’t drinking tonight?”

“I may have had one or two,” he admitted sheepishly, “But I’m fine to drive… I was just about to go now, actually, if you’re ready?”

“Rachel, I don’t think you should-,” Lauren started.

“Like you care,” Rachel spat, “Have fun up in Dublin with all the other snobs,” she slammed the car door in Lauren’s face.“Night Lauren, see ya round!” Josh shouted cheerily at her.

And with that they were gone. Lauren stood looking down to where the old road bent and turned. The lights of the car faded against the bushes and the silence grew in front of her until it seemed it was all that was left in the whole world.

Cathy watches Lauren go back to her huge car.

“Do you want to go for a coffee?” she calls suddenly. “It would be nice to catch up. Did you hear the priest? Ten years. That’s a long time.” Lauren nods and so Cathy continues, “I’ve a lot to tell you. It’s not easy being here actually,” she pauses. Should she admit the truth to this woman who tossed her aside all those years ago? And because Cathy is not a proud person, she decides to extend the olive branch,

“I miss you, Lauren… I’m lonely, actually.” She reaches a hand to touch her old friend’s shoulder. But the vulnerability is too much and somewhere in Lauren, a switch is flicked. It’s slight, the kind of thing only noticed by people who know the very bones of you. Cathy feels it and quickly takes her arm away. Whatever tenderness Lauren might have felt is now gone is replaced by a hard woman with secrets, the person she has chosen to be.

“I have to go. I’m meant to be having dinner with mam tonight but work texted me earlier so I’ll have to cancel that, too. You know how it is.” Cathy nods, though of course she doesn’t know.

She steps back and watches her old friend clamber into her car, back out onto the road and out of her life once again. The church car park is emptying, it leaves her standing there, unwanted and alone. A sharp gust of wind whips around her.

Cathy looks up at the frosty blue sky and wonders if Spring will ever come again.