Page 108 of Such a Good Couple
Following the death in recent days of his wife, Fionn/Finn Strong’s family and friends are concerned about his well-being. Police are seeking any information regarding his whereabouts.
There followed a list of numbers to contact.
At the house, Brody distributed flyers that felt comically unnecessary.
‘We should just give outEnduranceposters,’ Ollie quipped bleakly.
They paired off to start the search. Ollie and Conor had made a list of possible places Fionn would go. Annie and Rachel said they’d take Rathmines where Fionn had lived in a bedsit during college and where, occasionally, when he was in the country, he still returned to drink in some of the pubs. Ollie and Conor went further south to the beaches in Bray and Greystones. Donal and Brody were headed to the city centre. Emer and Maggie’s parents were taking care of the girls, who Annie realised, with a pang, she had not seen since the funeral. Clara had had to stay home with the boys but she was calling every person who hadever so much as had a pint with Fionn.
In Rathmines, the pubs were only just opening. The staff were sympathetic, though obviously grappling with the oddness of the scenario. A city-wide search for a movie star was undeniably weird.
‘We should stop for lunch,’ said Annie after a couple of hours going door to door. ‘I’m hungry. Beanie doesn’t give a shit about a crisis.’
They settled themselves by the steamed-up window of a café called Edward’s. Edward himself served them and before they’d even ordered asked them if they’d heard about ‘yer man the actor’.
‘The whole of Dublin is on the hunt. It’s mad. The poor wife, they’re trying to cover it up but apparently she killed herself. It’s tragic.’
Annie was too exhausted and hungry to bother getting angry but she could see Rachel fuming. After they ordered, she followed the guy, and Annie watched dispassionately as Rachel engaged in a terse exchange up by the till.
She came back to her seat. ‘We can leave,’ she told Annie.
‘Honestly, I can’t even be bothered caring right now.’
Rachel reached out and stroked Annie’s forearm. ‘I’m so sorry, Annie. I promise you better days are coming.’
Rachel’s hand was slightly rough, an artist’s hand, callused from her work. It felt so good, so comforting – Rachel’s thumb grazed Annie’s inner wrist but Annie forced herself to pull away.
‘Annie,’ Rachel started, but then said no more.
Even though Annie had never confessed any of her feelings, somehow the truth of her love had been gradually revealing itself anyway. Annie’s love made itself known when they sat on the couch at night and in the morning when they brushed their teeth at the sink. It filled the home they shared and hovered in the space between them. For her part, Annie realised she had beentrying to breathe hope into this space between her and Rachel but she wasn’t sure what Rachel had been trying to do.
Annie put her hands in her lap, tucking them under her bump. ‘Rachel, I don’t want to lose another person that I love but I’m not sure I can take this … this friendship right now. I can’t just be your friend.’
Rachel stood up looking immeasurably sad and Annie’s throat was suddenly choked with unspilled tears.
Rachel came around to Annie’s side of the table and laid her hand against Annie’s cheek. ‘I can’t be your friend either.’
A vice was tightening around Annie’s chest as tears gathered in her lashes.
Rachel gently thumbed the tears from Annie’s eyes only for more to gather. She spoke quietly. ‘It’s taken me time to understand how I felt because obviously I’ve never been in love with a woman before …’
Inside Annie, amid the gloom of grief, a faint glimmer began to flicker. It wasn’t quite enough to penetrate all the sadness and guilt and anger but it was there.
‘I’m in love with you, Rachel,’ Annie whispered.
‘I know, Annie. I’m in love with you too.’ Rachel smiled sadly. ‘But,’ she murmured as she leaned down and kissed the tears from Annie’s eyes, ‘I don’t want our beginning to be forever knit into this awful time. You need to process and grieve. I’m here. I’ll always be here.’ And then Rachel kissed her deeply. Annie closed her eyes and lost herself and her pain and her fury for a few beautiful moments.
Then on the table the phone rang.
It was Conor. Fionn had been found alive and shit-faced. A photographer from one of the tabloids had been trailing him but got an attack of conscience when he saw the appeal to the public and had brought him home.
‘Thank God for that.’ Annie managed a smile. ‘Now I canberate him in person for doing that to us.’ She laughed a little and it felt wrong.
Then Rachel took her hand and it felt a little less wrong.
‘I’m gonna go call him.’ Annie rose from her chair. ‘I feel bad for saying shitty things earlier. He’s hurting so much.’
‘You all are,’ Rachel replied.
