The Things I Should Have Told You - Carmel Harrington

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me than losing your mother, Olly, and that was watching you grieve and then grow up without her in your life. But grief is inevitable. So I’ll not tell you to stop crying.

       This letter … I’ve found it the most difficult to write. Over the summer you’ll get to see all of the letters I’ve penned. Some were easier than others, but this first one, well, I’m struggling …

       I can imagine you all sitting in the living room as you read this. Or maybe you are already in Nomad? Well, the main thing is, don’t be worrying, this is a GOOD letter. No nasty surprises, I promise you.

       So was it a good turnout today in the end? Charlie Doyle had almost a thousand at his mass and I can remember thinking that it must have made his family happy, seeing how loved he was. He was a good man, in fairness, even if he had a neck like a jockey’s you-know-what. It’s over ten years since he borrowed my drill. Not that any of that matters a blind bit now, of course.

       I hope you don’t mind that I organised my own funeral. I didn’t want any of you to have the burden and, if I’m honest, partly I wanted to control how I leave this world. Beth never got that chance. I always regret that we’d not discussed what she wanted. Did I do right by her? That’s weighed on my mind a lot lately. Arra, sure there’s no point worrying about that now.

       Olly, all this talk about funerals sparked a forgotten memory. ‘Are you quite alright?’ Do you remember that day at your great aunt Celeste’s funeral? I cried with laughter all over again today when I thought about it. Tell the kids, they’ll like that story.

       Bet you have lots of questions right now. What’s with the letters? What’s with Nomad? I’m coming to that.

       All I’ve ever wanted in life was to see you happy, lad. And watching you and Mae fall in love and start your own family, well it’s been a privilege to be part of. I want to thank Mae, in particular, for letting an old fool like me live with you.

       I know that these past six months have been hard. My cancer, along with sucking the life out of me, seems to have sucked the joy out of our family, hasn’t it? Don’t try denying it, I know it’s true. We used to laugh a lot in this house, but the laughs seem far and few between lately.

       I can’t change the past, but I can help change what happens next. I’ve decided it’s time to inject some fun into the Guinness family.

       That brings me to Aled and Nomad. Does he look like Sir Tom Jones? He sounds just like him, at least he did on the phone. Decent bloke.

       Nomad is my gift to you all. Isn’t she a beauty? I’ve only seen pictures, mind you, and a video clip, but even so, I can tell she’s perfect. She’s all paid for, so don’t fret about money. And there’s a few bob extra for expenses. Aled has promised to show you all how she works before he goes. Now I can imagine that you are wondering what on earth possessed me to buy Nomad. Well, it’s simple. And the word simple is key.

       Olly, do you remember when I asked you recently what did you want from life and you said to me that it had all gotten complicated lately? Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about that. I decided that I’d find a way to uncomplicate things for you.

       At first I wasn’t sure how to accomplish that, but then I dreamt of the answer. Do you remember our atlas? You, your mam and I would spend hours poring over it, wondering where we’d go to next in our travels. Well, I know how to make things simple again for you all. A holiday! A long one, where you can forget about the past year and just relax. Eliminate all the stresses and complications.

       Drum roll please Jamie. You are going on a trip around Europe – in Nomad – for eight weeks. You can all forget about work, school, sickness and death and just focus on being a family again.

       Isn’t it great? Are you as excited as I am? It won’t be all fun, mind you! You see, Evie and Jamie need to realise that the world is not limited to Wexford. There’s a lot more out there than Facebook, Netflix or Candy Crush. I want them to see different cultures, taste new foods, watch the sunset from a new vantage point.

       I need to talk to you too about my ashes. Some of them I’d like to have buried in the flowers around Beth’s grave. But the rest, bring with you and I’ll let you know where you must scatter them, in due course.

       I’m going to say goodbye for now, because I’m getting tired and I’m sure you are all dying to go outside to check out Nomad. Is Jamie out the door already? Ha!

       You need to get my briefcase. I’ve left everything you need in there. You’ll find a letter for each stage of your journey, with full instructions. Time to get packing Guinness Family! You leave on Friday 27th June. I wish I could go with you. But I suppose, in part, I am, or at least my ashes are! That makes me smile.

       Before I go, there’s just one more thing you need to all remember. Life is short. So don’t spend it regretting what you should have said, to those you care about. If you love someone, say so! Not just with words mind, but in your actions too.

       Leave nothing unsaid, you hear me?

       I love you,

       Pops

       Chapter Five

       MAE

      There is a stunned silence in the room, as Olly finishes reading the letter aloud. He lets it fall from his hand and the sheaves of paper float to the floor in front of him. Evie stands up and walks out, wordlessly. I contemplate going after her, but she’s back less than a moment later, placing Pops’ briefcase in front of her father’s feet. She takes a seat by his side and leans in close to him. Jamie walks over and sits on his other side and still none of us speak. They’re good kids. United, flanking their father, supporting him.

      I lean down and pick up the pages and put them in their rightful order. A large tear lands on the spidery script and the ink smudges. I panic and blot it dry and then fold the letter carefully in two, placing it on the coffee table in front of us. None of us take our eyes off it. And still the room is silent, save for the distant hum of traffic on the road outside and the twitter of the sparrows that nest in the eaves of our roof.

      ‘Olly,’ I say. Someone has to break the silence. He looks up at me, his eyes lost and unbelieving.

      ‘He said he’d find a way,’ Olly replies.

      I nod and my heart breaks for my husband.

      ‘I just didn’t expect to hear from him so quickly.’

      I know Olly wasn’t trying to be funny, but this makes me smile. ‘He was always full of surprises.’

      ‘You know, there were gazillions at the funeral,’ Jamie states with his usual flair for drama, throwing his arms up in the air to further elaborate his point.

      We all grin at that gross exaggeration and Olly says, ‘I’m not sure it was quite that much, but he got a decent turnout – more than most get.’

      ‘He was loved,’ I state. ‘That was evident by the huge crowd gathered. So many people from his job too. And I don’t think a single person from the village didn’t come out either. All his years on various committees …’ I add.

      Olly looks down to the brown briefcase and takes a deep breath. He opens it and pulls out an atlas, staring at it, his face scrunched up, perplexed. He runs his fingers over the cover and then, with great care, opens it up, flicking through the pages one by one.

      ‘What is that, Dad?’ Jamie demands. ‘Let me see.’ His hands try to pull the book and Olly swats him away.

      ‘You

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