Cross the Line

Part Seven

                “Do you regret the move back here?”

She shrugged, “sometimes! I could be living the high life...but then that was never me. There was also the fact that they were never in a very good state financially, it took me a while to sort it all out after Dad died. It left me in debt. I’ve just finally got myself square on that front.”

This was food for thought, Conor thought. He was seeing deeper into her past and suddenly realised how complicated she was. He’d sensed sadness in everything that she did, it was never far from the surface, and now he could see why. She’d lost SO much in such a short time. He thought back to the menagerie that was his family; he’d grown up in an environment where there was never a moment’s peace. He’d been hounded by his sisters, brothers, and then later nieces and nephews. But he wouldn’t change a thing. In fact he knew that the closeness of his family had been the force that had got him through the acrimonious split with Orla.

                “When did you father die?”

She sighed, it was painful but she couldn’t avoid talking about things forever, “my mother died when I was almost fifteen. Cancer. But quick, you know? Saw a doctor because of stomach pains, and it was pancreatic cancer, already too advanced to treat. Within three months she was cold in the ground.” Gasping at the memory she shook her head, “my father wasn’t great before she died, without her he drank more, barely ate. Ironically when I started University he was getting better. But he died of pneumonia a week before Christmas five years ago.”

He shuddered, she’d have been twenty and alone...what a hard life.

                “So that doesn’t make for great Christmases I suppose?”

She shook her head, “last Christmas Day I spent in the air heading to New Zealand, I’ve had a few skiing trips...but generally I don’t impose on others and pretend it isn’t happening!”

Conor couldn’t believe it, he thought back to the numerous Christmases spent in this parent’s farmhouse, they’d never had a quiet time, aunts, uncles, plus the eight of them...it was always wild, and fun. The thought of Naomi alone and pretending Christmas wasn’t happening broke his heart. His parents were staunch Catholics, but he didn’t practice religion at all, but he still appreciated the time with his family, sharing stories, laughing. He couldn’t imagine life being any other way.

                “Don’t feel sorry for me!” she snapped watching his face contort as he thought deeply about her words. “I don’t pity myself, and I don’t appreciate you doing it!”

Conor reached out and captured her hands, “I do not pity you, I’m just thinking how much you’ll love Christmas when you have your own children!”

That caused another shudder, the thought of children...she shook her head, “Not me. I’ll be a great aunty to friend’s kids, that’s as far as I go!”

They were straying into dodgy territory, so Conor deliberately turned the conversation to the wedding, his family, anything light hearted. He shared stories from his youth, antics from a large family, she was extremely nervous about meeting them, he reassured her that they were the easiest people in the World to get along with and hoped the stories helped ease that tension. He found himself looking forward to his mother’s reaction to her, she’d never liked Orla, and he’d started to appreciate over the years that she was a very astute judge of character.

Conor walked her home in a pleasurable silence, but when he spotted Naomi shiver, he slid an arm around her shoulder. It was a summer day, but the sun had set and they were left with a cool chill.