I nod, and force the images of Joe’s childhood out of my mind. That damage was already done when I met him. This is about the future.
‘The police took him away one night when they were called out by neighbours. We barely even noticed, we were so high. And when we did, I decided that he’d be better off without us. I’ve regretted that decision every day since – but at least he went to a nice family, and had a good life with them.’
Michael has never met the Crazy Bunch, but Belinda and I share surprised looks at that statement. In no known universe could Joe’s childhood be described as good, or that family as ‘nice’. We both seem to realise at the same moment that Joe must have lied – must have made up a pretty fiction to stop this broken woman shattering into even more pieces.
Of all the sad things I’ve heard and seen today, this is the one that makes me cry. That Joe, despite everything he’d experienced and everything that had been done to him, retained a level of compassion and decency that staggers me.
‘Well, actually …’ starts Belinda, leaning forward, looking furious now.
‘They were nice,’ I say, interrupting her before she can go any further. ‘And yes, he had a good life.’
I feel Belinda’s glare, and am happy to ignore it. Joe didn’t want Mona to suffer any further, and I am determined we should honour that.
‘Do you have any idea where he might have gone?’ I ask, once the moment is safely navigated. ‘We know he was still in Dublin for a while after.’
‘I’m not sure,’ she replies, looking uncertainly from me and Belinda, as though she detects the thread of tension but wisely chooses not to unravel it. ‘I wasn’t at my best. I’d had several cracks at rehab by then, but still hadn’t managed it. I was in and out of this world and the other back then. He tried to help, good lad that he is, but even he saw the writing on the wall. I heard he was working in one of the fancy hotels in town – one of the big ones. You could try there maybe?’
She’s trying to help, but I can see the exasperation on my friends’ faces.
I stand up, deciding that there is nothing more to be done here. Everyone else follows suit, and we all lurk awkwardly in a small circle crowding out the room.
‘Thank you Mona,’ I say, calmly. ‘We’ll do that.’
She nods, and walks us to the door. Belinda and Michael walk out ahead of me, and I see her engage in some kind of banter with the kids loitering on the street.
‘If you find him,’ says Mona, stroking the crucifix again, ‘will you tell him … tell him he’s in my prayers? Tell him he always has been, and always will be?’
‘Of course I will,’ I respond, wanting to hug her but knowing she won’t find it comforting. Hers has not been a life of hugs.
‘And I’m sorry, Jess. For what happened to Gracie. What happened to you. I wish I could have met her … I wish I could have been a grandma for her. But I’d probably have just fucked that up as well.’
The f-bomb sounds shocking and brutal, and her face is a picture of self-loathing. I hope that by coming here we haven’t derailed her again – toppled her from whatever perch she’s clinging to as the waves of addiction crash around her feet.
‘You don’t know that,’ I reply. ‘And when we find him, maybe we’ll bring him here, and you two can talk again. It’s not too late.’
There is a flicker of something across her face as she tries to decide whether hope is worth the gamble. She just nods, and turns away. I see her standing in the window, staring at that photo of Joe and Gracie, as we drive away.
Chapter 18
‘Well,’ says Michael, as we return to the city centre. ‘That was unpleasant. I feel like I need a long soak in a bath of hot mojitos.’
Belinda is uncharacteristically silent. I can feel her staring at the back of my head, and finally give in.
‘Out with it, then,’ I say, turning to look at her. I am prepared for a tirade, but all I get is a sad smile.
‘That was good,’ she says eventually, ‘what you did for Mona. Not telling her about the Crazy Bunch and what really happened to Joe while she was dope-fiending it back here. I wanted to tell her … I felt so angry. But I’m glad you stopped me. It’s what Joe would have wanted. Somehow, despite what he came from, he managed to be a much better person than me.’
‘Yeah,’ adds Michael from the driver’s seat. ‘How is that? Everything I hear about this man suggests he’s perfect. Everything about his childhood suggests he should be a monster.’
‘He wasn’t perfect,’ I reply, smiling. ‘He just … I don’t know, seemed to have his own moral compass? I know they tried to mould him into another one of them, the Crazy Bunch, but he wasn’t having any of it. Too much … compassion, I think.’
‘They did,’ says Belinda, her voice sad. ‘When we were kids, they sent him shoplifting. First few times, he did it – but then gave all the stuff away, he felt so bad. Did a bit of a Robin Hood. After that he refused, and he paid the price for it.’
I’d seen the marks on his body, and know exactly what she is talking about. I feel angry again, until Belinda bursts the small bubble of rage.
‘Anyway. I’m glad you didn’t tell Mona the truth. You’re a good person too, Jess – just like him.’
I am moved by this, and don’t really know what to say. I blow her a kiss, and Michael laughs out loud.
‘What a touching moment,’ he says, as he drives. ‘I feel like I’ve just witnessed a small miracle. Now, who wants to come up with a list of fancy hotels? Though I have the suspicion that Mona’s concept of “fancy” might include the YMCA …’
Belinda and I start to sift through booking.com looking for ideas, and then checking if they were also open in 2004. By the time we get back to town we have decided on an initial list of three, with a back-up of a few more if we come up with nothing at those. I suggest we take one each, as I am secretly yearning for half an hour alone.
We leave the Fiat at our own less-than-fancy hotel, and go our separate ways. I completely strike out at the Shelbourne, but do enjoy the marble columns and impressive chandeliers in the lobby. The staff are polite and helpful, but nobody there can remember that far back.
I bump into Belinda on her way from a similar fail at another grand lodging nearby. She has enjoyed it less than I have, saying she always feels like she should be saying ‘yes ma’am, thank you, ma’am’ and serving the canapés when she’s anywhere too posh.
We decide to head back to the last hotel together, to collect Michael if he’s there, and possibly to double check just in case he forgot why he was there and went straight to the bar instead.
‘That’s not really fair,’ I say, as we climb the steps of the Grand Circle Hotel. ‘He’s a very conscientious soul.’
The lobby of the hotel is indeed grand, its nooks and crannies filled with exotic plants and potted palm trees, blissful air conditioning washing my face with a cool breeze. Belinda spots a sign for the Cocktail Lounge, and as we enter through stained glass doors, I hear Michael’s laughter floating out towards me.