Table Of Content♥
♥
♥ ♥ ♥
Thanks for
the Memories Cecelia
Ahern
Dedicated, with love, to my grandparents, Olive and Raphael Kelly and Julia and
Con Ahern, thanks for the memories
Contents
Prologue
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND STARE into the dark.
1
Part One
One Month Earlier 5
Chapter 1
BLOOD TRANSFUSION,” DR. FIELDS ANNOUNCES
from the podium of a…
7
Chapter 2
PROFESSOR HITCHCOCK.” DR. FIELDS APPROACHES
Justin, who is arranging his…
13
Chapter 3
WHAT IS IT ABOUT FART jokes, Bea?”
18
Chapter 4
IN A BLOOD DRIVE BESIDE Trinity College’s rugby field, Justin…
23
Part Two
Present Day 27
Chapter 5
“You took a pill at lunch, remember?”
“That was for my heart. This is for my memory. Short-term memory pills.”
I take the pillow off my face to see if he’s being serious. “And you forgot to take
it?”
He nods.
“Oh, Dad.” I start to laugh while he looks on as though I’m having an episode.
“You are medicine enough for me. Well, you need to get stronger pills. They’re
not working clearly.”
He turns his back and makes his way down the hall, grumbling, “They’d bloody
well work if I remembered to take them.”
“Dad,” I call to him and he stops at the top of the stairs.
“Thanks for not asking any questions about Conor.”
“Well, I don’t need to. I know you’ll be back together in no time.”
“No, we won’t,” I say softly.
He walks back into my room. “Is he stepping out with someone else?”
“No, he’s not. And I’m not. We just don’t love each other. We haven’t for a long
time.”
“But you married him, Joyce. Didn’t I take you down the aisle myself ?” He
looks confused.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You both promised each other in the house of our Lord, I heard you with my
own ears. What is it with you young people these days, breaking up and
remarrying all the time? What happened to keeping promises?”
I sigh. How can I answer that? He begins to walk away again.
“Dad.”
He stops but doesn’t turn round.
“I don’t think you’re thinking of the alternative. Would you 9 6 / C e c e l i a A h
e r n
rather I kept my promise to spend the rest of my life with Conor, but not love
him and be unhappy?”
“If you think your mother and I had a perfect marriage, you’re wrong, because
there’s no such thing. No one’s happy all the time, love.”
“I understand that, but what if you’re never happy? Ever.”
He thinks about that for what looks like the first time, and I hold my breath until
he finally speaks. “I’m going to have a HobNob.”
Halfway down the stairs he shouts back rebelliously, “A chocolate one.”
C h a p t e r 1 2
’ m o n va c at i o n , b r o , w h y are you dragging me to a gym?”
I Al half walks, half skips alongside Justin in an effort to keep up with his lean
brother’s long strides.
“I have a date with Sarah next week,” Justin says as he power-walks from the
tube station, “and I need to get back into shape.”
“I didn’t realize you were out of shape,” Al pants, wiping trickles of sweat from
his brow.
“The divorce cloud was preventing me from working out.”
“The divorce cloud?”
“Never heard of it?”
Al, unable to speak, shakes his head.
“The cloud moves to take the shape of your body, wraps itself nice and tight
around you so that you can barely move. Or breathe. Or exercise. Or even date,
let alone sleep with other women.”
“Your divorce cloud sounds like my marriage cloud.”
“Yeah, well, that cloud has moved on now.” Justin looks up at the gray London
sky, closes his eyes, and breathes in deeply. “It’s time for me to get back into
action.” He opens his eyes and walks 9 8 / C e c e l i a A h e r n straight into a
lamppost. “Jesus, Al!” He doubles over, head in his hands. “Thanks for the
warning.”
Al’s beet-red face wheezes up at him, words not coming easily. Or at all.
“Never mind my having to work out, look at yourself,” Justin admonishes his
brother. “Your doctor’s already told you to drop a few hundred pounds.”
“Fifty pounds . . . ,” Al gasps, “aren’t exactly”—gasp—“a few hundred, and
don’t start on me too.” Gasp. “Doris is bad enough.”
Wheeze. Cough. “What she knows about dieting is beyond me. The woman
doesn’t eat. She’s afraid to bite a nail in case they’ve too many calories.”
“Doris’s nails are real?”
“Them and her hair is about all. I gotta hold on to something.”
Al looks around, flustered.
“Too much information,” Justin says, misunderstanding. “I can’t believe Doris’s
hair is real.”
“All but the color. She’s a brunette. Italian, of course. Dizzy.”
“Yeah, she is a bit dizzy. All that past-life talk about the woman at the hair
salon.” Justin laughs.
“I meant I’m dizzy.” Al glares at him and reaches out to hold on to a nearby
railing.
“Oh . . . I knew that, I was kidding. It looks like we’re almost here. Think you
can make it another hundred yards or so?”
“Depends on the ‘or so,’ ” Al snaps.
“It’s about the same as the week ‘or so’ vacation that you and Doris were
planning on taking here. Looks like that’s turning into a month.”
“Well, we wanted to surprise you, and Doug is able to take care of the shop
while I’m gone. The doc advised me to take it easy, Justin. With heart conditions
in the family history, I really need to rest up.”
t h a n k s f o r t h e m e m o r i e s / 9 9
“You told the doctor there’s a history of heart conditions in the family?” Justin
asks.
“Well, yeah, Dad died of a heart attack. Who else would I be talkin’ about?”
Justin is silent.
“Besides, you won’t be sorry. Doris will have your apartment done up so nice
that you’ll be glad we stayed. You know she did the doggie parlor all by herself
?”
Justin’s eyes widen in horror.
“I know.” Al beams proudly. “So, how many of these seminars will you be
doing in Dublin? Me and Doris might accompany you on one of your trips over
there—you know, see the place Dad was from.”
“Dad was from Cork.”
“Oh. Does he still have family there? We could go and trace our roots. What do
you think?”
“Not a bad idea.” Justin thinks of his schedule. “I have a few more seminars
ahead. You probably won’t be here that long, though.” He eyes Al sideways,
testing him. “And you can’t come next week because I’m mixing that trip with a
date with Sarah.”
