The Girl Who Lied(92)

‘Thank you,’ I say. If I can help him understand his mum and what she did, then maybe he can understand what I’ve done.

Kerry moves from the bed and kneels down. He pulls the box out containing the letters. ‘There’s a date on the back of each one,’ he says.

‘That’s good, we’ll start with the first one, then,’ I say. ‘But first, shall we put some clothes on?’

Five minutes later, we’re sitting in the living room. The letters are laid out on the coffee table in front of us in date order. Kerry picks up the first one and slides his thumb under the flap to open the envelope.

A single sheet of A4 paper is folded in four. Kerry opens it and lays it out flat on the table.

Dear Kerry

I know you probably don’t want to hear from me after what happened earlier this year but I hope and pray that you will read this letter.

I have thought about you every day since the argument and every day I’ve wished I could turn back time. God, I would do things differently. I never meant for things to get this bad. There’s been too much hurt and loss in this family already.

Please call me. I’d love to talk to you properly.

I love you.

Mum xx

P.S. Ronan made the school hurling team.

I look at Kerry to gauge his response, but his face is impassive.

‘Have you not even seen your brother?’ I ask.

‘I used to go and watch him in his hurling matches. If mum or her husband wasn’t there, I’d go and speak to him,’ says Kerry. ‘Now he’s older, he calls me or texts me. Sometimes we meet up.’

‘That’s good, at least you still keep in contact with him – that would be a shame otherwise,’ I say. ‘Let’s try the next one.’ I pick up the envelope, which is dated about ten months after the first one.

We read it together. It says much the same thing. How she wishes Kerry would get in touch and that Ronan is missing him.

Gradually, we make our way through the letters. They are all along the same lines. She wants to meet to talk through things. To make things better. She misses him and she always finishes by telling him she loves him.

We get to the final two.

‘I think this is pointless,’ says Kerry. ‘I don’t want to read any more.’

‘Come on, let’s read these two. We might as well now we’ve read all the others.’ I don’t wait for him to answer and open the next one. It has a date of nearly a year ago. It sounds more reflective, somehow sadder, and his mother tells Kerry how she still misses him.

‘It’s just the same as the others,’ says Kerry. ‘In not one of them has she apologised for what she said to me. It’s all about her and her sorrow.’

I take the last letter and look at the date. ‘This is only a few weeks old.’

‘I know. Honestly, Erin, let’s not bother.’

I tear open the letter before Kerry can stop me. It’s the longest letter yet and goes on to a second page. I tug at his arm to stop him from getting up and begin to read it out loud.

Dear Kerry

I still don’t know if you are reading these letters or not. I spoke to Max. He says he definitely gives them to you. I really hope that you are reading them.

You may have heard that Tom and I aren’t together any more. He left me just before Christmas. I saw it coming, if I’m honest. And as I’m being honest, I’ll tell you why. It was because of you. I’ve never been able to forgive myself for what happened that night. For things that were said. And I’ve never been able to forgive Tom either. I should not have let what happened happen. I can only imagine how you must feel and I’m tortured every time I think about it.

I never in a million years wanted things to end up like this. I can’t tell you how much it hurts me to think I no longer have a relationship with my own son. Your dad would be furious if he knew. I came to Rossway last week. I came to see you. I sat in the little café next door to the workshop for a long time trying to pluck up courage to come and see you. But in the end I wasn’t brave enough. I didn’t want to have to face you rejecting me. How hypocritical is that? After me telling you I never wanted to see you again, I’m too scared to see you in case you say the same thing. And not without reason. I know I was wrong then, but I was scared of being alone and I had Ronan to think of. A life for my five-year-old child or a life for my seventeen -year-old who was probably going to fly the nest soon anyway. I couldn’t deny another one of my sons the chance to grow up with his father. You’d already had that taken away, I couldn’t take it away from Ronan.

I know this doesn’t make what happened right and I know what I said was wrong, so very wrong. As soon as I said it, I regretted it. If I was able to change one thing in my life, I wouldn’t choose the obvious – your dad not to have died – I would choose to take back those words. To take away the pain I caused you and the damage I’ve done. I know I can’t and I can only tell you how sorry I am and hope that one day you will forgive me.