Mo rún

My  mammy had unrealistic hopes for me, she seriously thought I was going to join a convent and become a nun and live  in Londonderry for the rest of my life. Her dreams were shattered the day I eloped to England to marry the love of my life. Four weeks after we left, she dropped down dead with a heart attack on the kitchen floor while making a cup of tea. The heart attack  was brought on by stress,  probably all my fault considering I was only eighteen and had run off with a man ten years older than me, who I’d only known for a few months. I knew bugger about the world, but I felt it in my gut that he was the man for me, and my instinct proved right.

My husband had  jet black hair and striking turquoise blue eyes, with a hint of green in them. His eyes always reminded me of a lagoon, very unique.  We had a good marriage, he was kind to me and that’s all that mattered. He provided for his family well enough, then one day completely out of the blue the idiot managed to get himself run over by a bus. A bloody bus of all things!  He died in the ambulance on the way to hospital. The poor sod  was only a  few months into his retirement, having worked for Royal Mail all his life. All that time  slogging his guts out, doing overtime, only to die before he could enjoy his pension and free time. I really do miss him, but thankfully I’ve been left with my four children,  grandchildren and my catholic faith, something I've got more involved with as I've got older, it’s  such a comfort and has got me through some very dark days after losing my soul mate. 

 My eldest child is Gideon, a headteacher at the local Catholic primary school. I'm ever so proud of him, such a good boy. Well known and respected in our local church community, he's qualified as an Eucharist minister; he could have been a priest had he not met his miserable wife. Sweet Jesus, her face might crack if she ever attempted to crack a  smile.  I'm convinced all she eats is lemons, such a sour-faced  woman. However, I have to look on the bright side, she’s  managed to produce two wonderful  grandchildren for me, so I can’t be too critical, and thankfully they’ve inherited our family genes. I know  as a mother you’re not supposed to have a favourite child, but Gideon is mine, he’s perfect in every way. He’d have a job at the Vatican by now, had he not met her. 

I fell pregnant very quickly not long after having Gideon with our Martha.  In fact they’re so close in age they could be Irish twins. I’ve often wondered  if I’m to blame for her obsessive compulsive behaviour,  nothing in her house is ever out of place. She doesn’t know this but  when she was a baby she fell out of her pram, the stupid straps weren’t tied properly and she went head first on the pavement, if only I’d checked she was fastened in properly, she wouldn’t have a home that looks like a show home andall this obsessive behaviour.  Of all my children Martha was the only one who inherited her father’s turquoise green  eyes and jet black hair. She doesn't need to work, her husband Micah has a well paid  job, I forget what he does, but all I know is he travels a lot and is  never home before 9pm, and has eyebrows very close together. 

The first time Martha introduced him to me, I couldn’t stop staring at his eyebrows, like a pair of fluffy caterpillars. I read in one of my women’s magazines that people with a monobrow mean they’re a bit shifty.  He claims to be a Catholic but other than on their wedding day I've never seen the man at church. We live in the same parish, goodness knows what Father Michael must think when he sees me week in week out on my own. Whenever he asks anything about Martha and her family, I just smile and quickly change the subject. However, I must admit he provides well enough  for his family and I suppose that’s all that matters, despite his eyebrows. Martha has twin boys, one of them got our good genes, thank goodness such a handsome  lad.  While the other one wasn’t so blessed, the poor thing has inherited his dad’s monobrow. 

Next in line is our Mary, now she’s a peculiar little thing, such a secret squirrel. She doesn’t look her age, and takes good care of herself by eating well and exercising and the like. I think she has those  botox injections, passing herself off  younger than thirty four. I can honestly say I don’t know much about Mary's life. Growing up she never had a boyfriend to speak of, I did think at one point she might prefer women instead.  Then one day completely out of the blue she announced she got married, to a man I might add.  Announced it while I was sitting watching Coronation Street, all very matter of fact like she’d just bought a meal deal from Boots.  I nearly died when she told me the ceremony had taken place on a beach in Cyprus, just the two of them and some hotel staff acting as witnesses. The shame of it, I couldn’t look Father Michael in the eye for weeks, I mean how could she just bugger off and get married like that, no priest, no church, no nothing. I still get palpitations when I think of it, and even more so  realise what I put my mammy through all those years ago. Her husband is eight years younger than her, and has very shifty eyes. Honestly if it wasn't enough having one son in law with a monobrow, I’ve got another with shifty eyes. She’s already announced to anyone who will listen that she doesn’t want to have any children, she’s focusing on her career ( whatever that that is). I don’t think working as a university librarian  is really a career. I’m hoping it’s just a passing phase, but  unfortunately she's inherited her father’s stubborn streak, so she may be living the life of a student for the next twenty years.

Gabriel is the baby of the family, well not so much a baby anymore, he’s just turned thirty. He’s currently single, but I’m on a mission to find him a girlfriend.  He spends a lot of time working all hours doing TV extra work, or going to the theatre to watch musicals. At least he’s inherited his father's strong work ethic. I keep saying to him “son, isn’t it about time you got  yourself a proper job?” He’s another one with his father’s stubborn streak. I wish he’d get his head out of the clouds, and realise doing amateur theatre and TV extra work doesn’t pay that well, and at this rate he will be living with me until he’s in his fifties treating the house like a hotel.  He's a wee bit obsessed with Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler and, which is odd as neither of them are that attractive. Anyway, all I can do is keep praying there’s someone out there for him. Of course I love him, but I know I’m not helping him grow up by being his unpaid housekeeper, fetching and carrying after him. 

My children insisted on adding me to a family group chat on WhatsApp, no idea why as I still prefer picking up the phone and speaking to them, rather than all this technology, it's information overload.  Not so long ago  they’d each sent a message on the group chat inviting me to a restaurant on a Saturday afternoon, which I found really odd, as it’s usually only on Mother’s day and my birthday that they would want to do something like that. My mind was working overtime, unlike me I started to get a bit apprehensive, wondering why they wanted  to meet on a Saturday afternoon. Well it had better be good as I rearranged  volunteering at church to meet them. I’m looking forward to it just being the five of us, no husbands, wives, or grandchildren, I’ve got my children all to myself for a few hours, such a treat. Firstly I had to find something decent to wear, they told me this restaurant is quite posh. To be honest I would have been happy with the local pizza restaurant, I’m not too fussy. Our Gideon said he’d pick me up at 1.00pm sharp, and with him that means be ready 15 minutes early as he’s always punctual. 

On the afternoon of lunch I was quite  surprised to see my other three children already sitting down in the restaurant waiting for me. They all looked a bit anxious, and apprehensive, which made me think they had asked me to come here to share some bad news. As  I sat down, I caught Martha's eye, of the four of  them she would be the one to let her guard down and crack first, the girl couldn’t hold water. Whatever was going on was clearly bothering her as she put her head down to her chin, she couldn't even look me in the eye. Now I was starting to worry, whatever was going on they were all in on it. Eventually, Gabriel poured me a large glass of red wine, I can’t really hold my alcohol, which made me think he was definitely trying to soften me up. They were all unusually quiet, hiding their heads behind the menu, there was a  weird silence. At this point I was beginning to get a bit agitated, there was an uncomfortable silence which is even more peculiar, as one thing my children are not is  quiet. I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, so I put my wine glass down, looked each of them in the face, raised an eyebrow so they knew I meant business.  “Right then, so is anyone going to tell me what’s going on, and don’t try to fob me off, I know you all too well to know something is wrong.” There was tumbleweed silence, they all looked at one another. “Well? You’re obviously all hiding something, I can see right  through you all.”  Gabriel looked at Mary, who looked at Martha, who looked at Gideon who looked  directly into my eyes and said. “You’re right mum, we did invite you here this afternoon as we have something to tell you. Something we’ve all  known about for a few months; but  just didn’t know how to tell you.” I looked at my children individually, they all looked really nervous. Gideon’s lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing he was saying, my  surroundings became muffled. I stared at him, but went off into a daydream. “Mum, are you listening?” I was suddenly brought out of my reverie, as Gideon raised his voice slightly, his top lip was sweating. “We’re sorry mum, but there never seemed a good time to bring it up, so rather than tell you, we thought we would show you instead. We chose this place as there was less chance of you making a scene in public.” I looked at my eldest son with pleading eyes. “For the love of God son, will you please just get it over with.”

I was so distracted that I hadn't noticed Martha had left the table. Suddenly I noticed her walking back,  linking a man's arm. I couldn’t see his face clearly from a distance, but I noticed his clerical collar. Now I was totally confused, why was Martha linking the arm of a priest. Oh Lord, a priest can only be bad news, maybe he was here to console me with what I’m about to hear.  However, as they got closer, the penny finally dropped, “ Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph it can’t be.” I pushed myself up and everything seemed to happen in slow motion while blessing myself with the sign of the cross. I lost my balance slightly, I leaned on Gabriel's shoulder for support. There was no denying whose child he was  with those turquoise eyes and jet black hair. Standing there next to Martha the resemblance was uncanny. My husband had another child, he looked very close in age to Gideon and  Martha, which baffled me. I stood there transfixed by him for what felt like ages, until Gideon pulled me out of my reverie helping me to sit me down.

 It turned out the man I thought I knew all those years, my soul mate, had another son and had always known.  Weeks before meeting me, he  left his pregnant girlfriend and ran away to England with me, telling her he didn’t want to know. This poor kid has been searching for his father for years, after his mother passed away. She kept his fathers identity a secret until her death bed. The only details  she gave him was his name and  that he moved  to England with me, had turquoise blue eyes and was a fecking eejit. My mother apparently knew all about it as she was good friends with his grandmother. Unbelievably  they all knew except me, I felt like such an idiot.  I was married to a coward, no wonder my mother hated him. I’d caused her all that stress, and she died before getting a chance to tell me the truth. It’s bitter sweet really as I’ve always wanted a priest for a son, God certainly works in mysterious ways.