Chapter One
Day One
THE TRIO OF CABS
Emma: Dad was shouting into his phone. He was like the stereotypical Brit abroad. The type of guy who bellows ‘English!’ to some waiter, even though it’s a Greek resort. I remember him talking really slowly, as if it was a child on the other end. He kept saying ‘three taxis’ over and over. Then he went: ‘Not two taxis, not four taxis, I ordered three taxis.’ I was so embarrassed. We were standing on the kerb outside the airport terminal. We’d been in the country for less than an hour and I already wanted to go home.
Julius McGinley (son of Geoffrey McGinley, older brother of Emma McGinley): It was a right cock-up. The usual thing when you go abroad. Dad had ordered three taxis to pick us up at the airport and there were none there. Galanikos is an island: how much traffic can there be?
Daniel Dorsey: Total cock-up.
Emma: I’d started to walk away, then Dad shouted that the taxis would be about fifteen minutes. I think there were ten of us standing on the kerb with our cases. There was Mum, Dad, me, Julius and the twins – that’s six. Then there was Daniel and Liz, plus Victor and Claire. I still don’t know why Dad invited his business partner and wife, plus their grown-up kid. I was at the point where I didn’t ask too many questions.
Daniel Dorsey: Geoff said he thought of Liz and myself as family, so he asked if Liz, me, Victor and Vic’s wife wanted to come along. I think it was Beth’s idea. Geoff always did what Beth told him. We could hardly say no.
Emma: It was so hot. One of those days where there are no clouds in the sky and it doesn’t feel like there’s anywhere to hide from the sun. It had been wet in England – typical, I know – so I’d gone from that to feeling my skin tingling just from being outside. We’d been on a plane, so nobody was wearing sunscreen. I didn’t want to burn.
Chloe McGinley (Aged 8. Granddaughter of Geoffrey and Bethan McGinley, daughter of Julius McGinley, niece of Emma McGinley, sister to Amy McGinley): I didn’t like that Grampa was shouting. It was really hot, so I asked Dad if we could go to the shop.
Emma: There was a shop outside the terminal, selling the type of tat that you get in resorts. Julius said he wanted to get the girls out of the sun, so he took them over to the shop. I ended up following, mainly to get away from Dad.
The best thing was the air conditioning. Going inside was like being punched in the face, but in a good way – if that’s a thing. A good punch in the face. That’s the only reason I spent any time inside the shop because I didn’t buy anything.
Right by the door, there were three spinning racks dedicated to fridge magnets, plus an entire aisle where the shelves were full of dreamcatchers. I can’t believe anyone actually spends money on that stuff, but I guess they must. There were towels and plates, plus racks of booze, obviously. Chloe and Amy were dragging their dad around the shop and Julius was trying to stop them touching things on the shelves. You know what kids are like.
Chloe: I didn’t touch anything!
Emma: The twins had found this necklace on a shelf close to the counter. It was made of leather twine and had these little ivory horn-shaped things stitched into it. I don’t think they were actually made of ivory. I hope not. It was the type of thing I can imagine someone on a gap year wearing on a beach while they talk about how they’ve really started to get into Vonnegut.
I think it was Amy who picked it up. I’d not seen the twins in a while and, even before that, I wasn’t always a hundred per cent about which was which. That sounds bad, doesn’t it? Sometimes, when you look at them, it’s obvious which is Amy and which is Chloe. Chloe leans forward a little more when she’s speaking and Amy has this way of smiling, as if she already knows what you’re about to say. I think it depends on the angle, or the light. Every now and then, I’ll see them together and I can’t tell who is who.
Amy McGinley (Aged 8. Granddaughter of Geoffrey and Bethan McGinley, daughter of Julius McGinley, niece of Emma McGinley, sister to Chloe McGinley): Sometimes we pretend to be each other. Even Dad gets confused sometimes.
Emma: Let’s say it was Amy. She had figured out that she could blow into the horns on the necklace and it would make this whooshing sound. It’s hard to describe. Julius put it on – I think as a joke – and, whenever he turned around, the necklace made the sound. Chloe and Amy thought it was hilarious.
Julius: I don’t remember a necklace.
Amy: The necklace sounded like a bird whenever Dad moved about. I wonder what happened to it.
Emma: The twins were laughing, so Julius bought the necklace. It was twenty or thirty euros: a ridiculous price for what it was. I think the shop owner expected Julius to haggle – but he paid whatever the guy said. Julius has always been like that with money – make it, spend it.
Julius was putting on the necklace next to the counter but, as he was straightening, he winced, like there was a pain in his side.
Julius: Pain in my side? I don’t remember anything, but it was probably just a strain, or something. I’d have got it playing five-a-side, or maybe volunteering. I’m always helping out with something.
Emma: By the time we got out of the shop, the first taxi had appeared. Dad was shouting ‘three taxis’ at the driver because, apparently, that makes things happen quicker. I told Mum she should get in the cab, what with her condition and everything. She said: ‘Don’t be so silly, I’m not dead yet.’
She was quite defiant at that point. Mum never wanted to talk about the diagnosis and basically pretended it wasn’t there. She’d always been like that – putting everyone first, except herself. When we were growing up, she would always make sure that Julius and myself had eaten before she had something. I remember she once missed an Elton John concert because Dad had tickets to go to Silverstone. She loved Elton John and had always wanted to see him live – but then Dad said a mate had given him Grand Prix tickets, so they ended up going to that. She didn’t even query it.
So it was no surprise that, even in the heat at the airport, she told Julius he should take the taxi to get the girls out of the sun. I thought he’d insist that Mum should go first, but he shrugged and then got inside with the girls.
I remember looking across to Daniel and he seemed pretty annoyed by it all. He’s used to getting his own way and I can’t imagine him waiting for much.
Daniel: I was worried about Liz. That sun was very hot. She should have definitely been in that first cab.
Emma: Dad was marching up and down the pavement, muttering about when the next taxi would arrive. Daniel was busy doing nothing – because that’s what Daniel does. I don’t know what Liz and the rest were up to, but I was with Mum. It’s not a busy airport, but one of those big planes took off and there was a huge roar. It was so loud, it was like you could feel it, rather than hear it. Like the whole world was quaking. I remember Mum looking up, watching the plane go overhead, and she seemed so frail and small. It was her neck where you could see it the most. There were indents and dimples, almost like she was permanently breathing in. I think that was the first time where I really, really understood what was going to happen to her. After you get a diagnosis like she had, it’s all words at first. A doctor will say that something is going to happen, but it doesn’t necessarily mean much. Then I saw her like that and it was like everything was real.