in the school. At the end of each day he went to the home he shared with
Father Rafferty, a Corkman in his sixties. Father Rafferty would watch the news while Noel cooked them dinner. Noel would eat in silence, nodding intermittently at Father Rafferty who was dedicated to worrying himself
sick about the state the world was in. When Noel would at last escape to his room, he’d put Nina Simone on his CD player and listen to her sing about sadness while he
knelt at the foot of his bed with his hands clenched in
prayer.
Please God, I’ve devoted my life to you, take this pain away. I bow down before you. Take this loneliness away.
*
As I learned much later, Noel had met Laura at a cake sale. She had baked over four hundred queen cakes in support of breast cancer. She’d lost her mother to it, and she felt fundraising was the least she could do. She was warm and chatty. A lot of people don’t chat to priests, not in an everyday kind of way. Noel was disarmed. He enjoyed her easygoing ways and her openness. She wasn’t afraid of speaking her mind, but she wasn’t afraid to listen either. They went for coffee and she talked about her mother while smiling and laughing at old anecdotes. She told her sad tale with humour, free from guilt, and he
found it refreshing. He had found that he too talked about himself. This was new to him and an unexpected pleasure. They had met again a number of times, sometimes accidentally, sometimes it only appeared that way. They had never been intimate nor would he even consider it, but he had been feeling guilty about his new friendship. That was before John had died and now the loneliness
that he had felt so long was becoming unbearable.
Lord, I’m on my knees. Please, I be you, make this loneliness go away.
*
He grabbed his coat and without a word passed Father
Rafferty who was ironing his jacket. He closed the door behind him and walked onto the street, preparing to hail the first taxi he saw.
He arrived unannounced. Laura opened the door and smiled happily. She led him inside to her warm sitting-room. He sank into her sofa. Candles were burning on the mantelpiece. It was dark except for a lamp by a reading chair where her book lay opened. He had interrupted her; he had no reason to be there. His embarrassment caught him off guard.
“Would you be more comfortable if I turned on the
main light?” she asked, aware of his discomfort.
“No,” he apologised, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.” He bowed his head to avoid her gaze.
“I think that’s exactly what you needed.” She smiled. “Let me make tea and we’ll talk about it.”
He nodded his head.
Later she sat on her reading chair and Noel told her
about his friend who had been killed in an accident. He told her about his anger and his shame. He talked about his pain, his regrets and he even mentioned a few fears.
Then she was hugging him. Holding him close to her and he cried on her shoulder while she rubbed his back
and told him that he would be OK. He felt her breath on his neck and her cheek pressed against his. He inhaled her perfume and felt her breasts pressing on his tunic. He pulled away, startled by the tightness in his pants. “I should go:’
She nodded. “If you ever need anything.”
He nodded.
She walked him to the door and he hugged her despite
himself.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Any time,” she said sadly.
She watched him walk down the pathway and close
the gate. He didn’t look back. She closed the door.
Noel walked home. It took him over an hour, but it felt like minutes. His head hurt.
I wanted her. Oh God, help me, I’m so confused! Please, God, I am yours, give me strength!
Depression
Sean left the funeral and went straight to the pub. He sat alone at the corner of the bar, emptied his pocket of all his money, placed it on the counter in front of him and ordered a whiskey, then another one and another one. He kept going as long as he had