Page 25 of To Hell With It
I had every intention of having sex with Jack. Every intention. But I couldn’t get the thought of the woodlice out of my head, so when he reappeared next to me after what felt like, well, what felt like forever and pulled off my top to reveal my bra, I made some excuses that I needed to shut the gate before it blew off in the wind (thank God it was actually windy) and promised Jack that I’d meet him upstairs as soon as I was done.
I grabbed Jack’s T-shirt because I wanted to feel like I was his – like in the films when the girlfriend wears the boyfriend’s oversized T-shirt. I wanted to feel like that. Then, when I was sure he’d gone upstairs, I made my way outside and onto the drive. I cast my eyes down to the lane, the moon made it look silvery grey and I could see my breath like I was smoking. I had never smoked but had often wondered if I should have at least tried it. Una used to offer me hers when we were younger but the smell of it made me want to be sick and I couldn’t understand why anyone would want that in their lungs.
Una wasn’t a real smoker, she just did it when she was at the pub so that she could stand outside and watchShaundid everything butfrom the window to see if he flirted with Carmel. I think he still wanted Una, but she would never go back. She said she couldn’t kiss him again after his tongue had been in Carmel’s vagina. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I thought his penis had been in there too.
I shone my phone light along the wooden post where the woodlice gathered. They only came out at night; it was like they did it on purpose to torment me. Niall had said it was because woodlice were crustaceans, which meant they were related to shrimps and crabs and that was why they had to hide in places that were cool and damp, like my gate latch, and only came out at night.
Niall had taught me some other facts about woodlice too. Like they ate their own poo and could even bite, if provoked. And that the mother woodlouse laid her eggs in a pouch, like a kangaroo, and then stayed close to the babies for a few months until they were old enough to leave.
I brushed all twelve of them off gently and watched them disappear to the ground. They’d find their way back again but at least they wouldn’t be squashed. I ran my finger over the wooden post.
‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.’
Ten was a good number. It was safe. I scanned the post again and stared at it until my eyes blurred over and started to water.
‘Gone, gone, gone,’ I reassured myself under my breath as I latched the gate shut.
I had to be quick, I didn’t want Jack to look out of the window because, under the moonlight, he would have seen me easily from my room, even with my torch off.
I turned and made my way back with quick steps to the porch and pulled the door closed behind me. I took off my shoes and hung my coat on the hooks that had been there since I was a little girl.
My grandmother used to leave her wellington boots caked in mud from the field under her coat that hung above, with her plum hat perched on top like she was underneath it. She’d be out in the fields most days in September. After she died, I left her coat and hat there and sometimes, when I’d come home from the shop, I’d forget, just for a flash, that she wasn’t inside.
I wanted my grandmother to be cremated so we could scatter her with the mushrooms and let the wind take her away to Slievenamon, because she loved the mountain as much as I did, but my mum was adamant she had to be buried in the same grave with my great-grandmother. So that’s where she was, and I took comfort in that too because she was tucked away, nice and safe, and I could visit her whenever I wanted.
I pulled the handle that Jack had fixed but it didn’t move so I yanked it again, but it still didn’t move. I tugged it one more time but I already knew what I’d done. I’d locked myself out.
So I stood there in my grandmother’s porch, next to her old coat and plum hat, wearing nothing but my pants and Jack’s T-shirt.
ChapterFifteen
Iwoke up curled in a ball, with my grandmother’s coat draped over me and her plum hat pulled over my eyes. It took me a moment to focus and realise where I was. But then everything hit me in one swift blow – the woodlice, the door, the oral sex with Jack. I glanced at my phone – it was six-thirty – and prayed that Jack wasn’t an early riser. I scrolled down to the shop number and hoped to God that Mrs O’Callaghan would be up.
I always kept a spare key in the shop, just in case, hidden in the storeroom Blu-tacked behind the whiteboard because there was no way anyone would look there if it were ever broken into. Not that they’d know whose lock it belonged to, even if they did manage to find it.
Niall’s voice picked up the other end.
‘Niall?’ I whispered.
‘Speaking, who is it?’ He sounded confused.
‘It’s me.’
‘Pearl?’
‘Sorry it’s so early.’
‘Pearl, what are you doing? Are you OK?’
‘Yes, no, I … I’ve locked myself in my porch and can’t get back inside. Can you get my spare key? It’s Blu-tacked behind the whiteboard in the storeroom.’
‘OK. But how did you manage to lock yourself out?’
‘The woodlice.’
‘Woodlice?’
‘I had to move them last night from the groove in my gate and forgot to put the latch on the door.’
