Together Forever

by Siân O'Gorman

  ‘A baby…’ I said. ‘There’s nothing like a baby.’ For a moment, I watched Red and wondered what he was thinking. He was looking though the windscreen at the road ahead.

  ‘Would you have liked one?’ I said, tentatively. ‘A baby, I mean.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘But with the right partner. Teaching has been a way of being around children, of being part of their lives but I would have wanted one I could call my own. If you’re allowed to call them your own.’ He turned to me, a wry, regretful look on his face. ‘It never happened. And it’s probably too late…’

  I wasn’t sure what to say in return as I thought about the baby – our baby. The baby we lost.

  ‘I’m starving,’ he said, suddenly. ‘Would you like to go for something to eat? Maybe Rosie would like to come.’

  ‘She’s still in Alice’s,’ I said. ‘And then going out with Michael. I hope he doesn’t go on about trying for Trinity again.’

  He smiled. ‘Is she good at dealing with him?’

  ‘Better than me,’ I said. ‘Fathers and daughters are different to wives and husbands. Daughters have more power than they maybe realise.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Red and I saw each other every night that week and we seemed to be finding our way back to one another. However there hadn’t been the right time to tell Red about the baby. Perhaps I was scared that he might not want to see me again and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

  We’d been for a walk to the harbour this evening and he’d come in for a cup of tea.

  ‘Tab?’ Red was leaning against the kitchen cupboards after we’d eaten and cleared up. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Why didn’t you come to San Francisco? What happened? I wish I could just let the past be the past and not go on about it. We were both so young I know that, and it was so long ago but… but I just want you to tell me, give me a reason.’

  I had to finally tell him my side of the story. I’d heard some of his, he didn’t know any of mine. But he’d brought it up now.

  ‘Red…’

  ‘Look, Tab, there is something about you that makes me so happy, so deeply, incredibly happy, that I can’t stop… and I wish I could. Because it is burning me up, it’s stopping me from just getting on with my life. Moving on. I thought I’d done it, I thought I was okay. All healed and put back together once more and then I walk into your office and it’s like I’m twenty all over again. And it’s been so difficult. I am right back to where I started, when you… when you broke my heart.’

  ‘Red, I’m so sorry…’

  ‘Tab, just tell me, why didn’t you come to San Francisco. Was I not good enough? Had you fallen out of love with me? What? Just tell me and it might help me. I’m not going to be hurt again, but I would know. And that would be so much better than not knowing. Because it’s the not knowing that really killed me. Did you meet someone else? Was it Michael?’

  I took a deep breath. I was scared of hurting Red but I didn’t want to carry on withholding something from him that he had had a right to know years ago. Here we go. ‘I was pregnant and I… and I lost the baby.’

  Utter confusion and bewilderment filled his face, he shook his head, trying to put everything together.

  ‘It was ours. I only found out the week before Rosaleen passed away. And it was such a lovely feeling,’ I went on desperately. ‘I had a whole week to start to think about the baby and how much I was going to enjoy being its mother. I didn’t tell you because I thought it would be a really lovely surprise when I came over. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. It was impossible. And I liked just knowing it myself. God, that sounds selfish. But I didn’t think it was a secret. I was going to tell you. I just wanted to tell you in person. And I was going to see you so soon. Not telling you seems like the most stupid and self-indulgent thing in the world now.’

  He’d been silent for all of this, taking it in. ‘Did you tell anyone?’ he said, eventually.

  ‘First just Rosaleen knew. And then… I told Nora.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’ His voice was quiet, urgent, his questions filling in the gaps of my story, as he mentally rearranged the piece to try and find some kind of coherence… a reason.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking clearly,’ I said. ‘If I did it all over again, I would tell you. But, Red, you’ve got to remember, I was going to be seeing you in ten days’ time. It was my secret, but only for a little while. I thought I was doing the right thing.’ He nodded slowly, as though he sort of understood. Or at least was trying to understand. But standing there, trying to explain myself, it seemed such a stupid and selfish thing to do.

  ‘When did you lose the baby?’ There were tears in Red’s eyes.

  ‘The day of Rosaleen’s funeral, I went down to the Forty Foot. I hadn’t slept at all and I thought I’d go down and have an early morning swim. And it was freezing. I mean, it always was, but it seemed particularly cold. And for the first time, it was like there was death in the air or something dark and horrible in the water. There wasn’t, I know there wasn’t. But I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know, it was a combination of grief and hormones or maybe I’m imagining it, I don’t know. I can’t say. It was just one of those things, I know now, but then I blamed the sea, blamed myself for going swimming…’

  ‘Oh Tabitha.’ And Red’s arms were around me, pulling my body to his, holding me closer and tighter and more tenderly than I had been held in years. ‘Oh Tab. I can’t believe you went through that.’ He pulled away, looking at me. ‘I wish you had told me.’

  ‘It felt like the deepest punch in the stomach,’ I said, ‘as though life, and me, and everything would never be the same again. I mean, I couldn’t function. When I look back now, I just remember that I couldn’t get out of bed. I felt unutterably changed, entirely different. I thought nothing could ever be the same again. I wasn’t me. People lose babies all the time, don’t they? Why did it affect me so badly? Why couldn’t I have just got on with things, brushed it off. I could have flown to you in San Francisco and told you all about it and… everything would have been all right. But I couldn’t. For some reason, I just couldn’t. It just so seemed so silly to be mourning the loss of a baby I was too young to have, that I had never met, that I had only known about for a couple of weeks. It all seemed so stupid, something that no one would understand.’

  ‘I would have understood,’ he said. ‘I would have been there for you, every step of the way.’

  ‘There was so much to think about and the last thing I wanted to do was think. We’d lost Rosaleen, I’d lost the baby. Telling you was one thing I couldn’t do. I couldn’t have coped with your reaction, your sadness, your anger, whatever it might have been…’

  ‘I wouldn’t have been angry,’ he insisted. ‘I would have been there for you. Like I always promised I would be. But you didn’t give me a chance.’ There was silence for a moment between us. The clock ticking on the wall. The birds outside. ‘I would have been Tab.’

  I nodded, miserably. ‘But I couldn’t do anything. For weeks and months. I stayed in my room. I couldn’t face anyone. I’d never experienced anything like that before. Maybe it was the combination of Rosaleen being gone as well, but it was like I had lost a part of me. No, not a part of me. It was like I had lost the most precious thing I might ever have. And I had been careless and stupid and lost it. I blamed myself. I didn’t know where to begin to try and explain how I was feeling, but this beautiful thing, this lovely treasure inside me was gone.’

  ‘Who looked after you?’

  ‘Nora. She hung around for a few months. She was amazing, actually. I think it was some kind of breakdown. It’s all a blur, really, and it took me years to get over it, completely. Even after Rosie was born, it took me time to bond with her. But slowly, I did. Slowly I got better.’

  ‘I’m sorry you went through all that.’ He took my hand and kissed it and then held it. ‘I wish you had told me, given me the opportunity to be there for you…�
��

  ‘Me too,’ I said quietly. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Did Michael know about the baby?’

  I shook my head. ‘I never told him. He doesn’t know about you or anything. Rosie knows, though. I told her the other week.’

  ‘She’s dealing with a lot lately.’

  ‘Yes, yes she is.’ I thought of Rosie and how much she’d been through. She’d be all right though, I was sure of it. She was made of strong stuff. Like her great-grandmother. Like her grandmother. Like her mother. She was a Thomas after all.

  ‘It was horrible not knowing,’ he said. ‘You not taking my calls. I even sent Dad around to try and find out what was going on.’

  ‘I know…’

  He shook his head. ‘You should have told me,’ he said. ‘Not because I had a right to know. That was your decision and I understand that. But because I was your friend. Your boyfriend. And I loved you. I loved you so much, Tab.’

  ‘I loved you too,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  We looked at each other. ‘When did you meet Michael? God, that was horrible when I found out that you had got married. To Michael Fogarty. Jesus Christ!’

  ‘A year later,’ I said. ‘He seemed to suit who I thought I was, what I’d become. I thought it was the right thing to do. And it meant I could try and have another child.’

  He took my hand in his. ‘I don’t know what to say…’

  ‘Nor do I.’ His hand was warm and smooth. Just like I remembered. ‘Why did you stay away so long?’

  ‘You. I was hurt. Lonely. Angry. Sad. All of those things. You were gone. You were with Michael… you had Rosie.’

  ‘Did you meet anyone?’

  He nodded. ‘A few really nice women. All of them, I realise now, reminded me a little bit of you. You know, something about their hair, or the way they used their hands or the colour of their eyes.’ He shook his head, looking down. ‘But I just couldn’t get it together to be the man, the partner, they wanted, they deserved. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. And I wanted a child. I really wanted a child, but it seemed so wrong to have one with someone I knew that I would never love…’ He stopped again, as though he couldn’t quite form the words. He cleared his throat. ‘As much as you. I wish I had or could, and I tried, all these years to…’ He stopped speaking. He was scanning my face.

  ‘To what?’ My voice was practically a whisper.

  ‘To forget you, to find someone else to fall in love with. To move on.’

  ‘Me too.’ I blinked away my tears. ‘I didn’t forget you either. I thought about you every day. But I couldn’t turn back time. I’d made all these decisions and then I had Rosie. It was too late. I wanted her to have a father and to have a normal home.’

  ‘I don’t regret all of it,’ he said. ‘I haven’t spent the last 18 years wishing everything was different. I’ve been happy… I’ve loved living in the States, I have learned so much about the world. But I compartmentalised, you know? I kept you and Ireland and us tightly locked away. It didn’t stop me from having fun and being happy and content, but it did stop me from being fully who I am…’

  ‘Me too,’ I whispered. ‘Me too. That’s how I feel. I wouldn’t change a thing about Rosie, you know that. But I have felt the loss of you, the lack of you, for all these years. It’s like I cut off my own arm, I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what you were…’

  ‘Your arm?’ he deadpanned, defusing all intensity, and I laughed.

  ‘My right arm, does that make it better?’

  ‘A little.’ He smiled at me.

  ‘But it’s true…’

  For a moment, we stood looking at each other, the gulf of all those years we hadn’t spent together, the fear of an unknown future, but the need to be close, to make up for lost time, the desire to touch each other was too much. And he felt the same. Strong arms pulled me into his chest and I fitted in exactly as I used to, my spot, tucked right in there, close to him, up against his body, the warmth of him.

  ‘Tabitha…’ His voice in my ear. ‘I never stopped.’

  And maybe it was the way he sounded, or the smell of him, the heat of his body, the memories of long nights and days in bed, but something burned inside me that hadn’t for a long time. And it was Red who ignited me, always had… always would.

  ‘Nor did I. I’m sorry, Red.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said. ‘Sorry you went through that. But no regrets. You have Rosie and she is all that matters. You know, Tab?’ He gave my forehead a little tiny kiss. ‘You haven’t changed.’ And another one. ‘Not one bit, not in any way.’ Two quick ones, closer to my mouth this time. ‘When I saw you again after all those years in your office, it was as though I had stepped back in time.’ And again, on my cheek, edging closer. ‘The way you spoke, the way you looked. Your beautiful face, your lovely voice… it was all I could do to stop myself from throwing myself on you and refusing to let go.’ And he kissed me on the lips, a long and lingering and gloriously deep kiss. He was right, sometimes time does stand still, feelings can just stay there for years and years. There we were, Red and Tab. Together again.

  And there was something I needed to say. ‘I love you, Red.’

  ‘And I love you, my darling Tabitha.’

  Darling. It beat Mammy any day.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I’d finally made up my mind about the Copse. It was the last day of term and everyone was looking forward to eight weeks’ holiday, but I had one last decision to make. I wasn’t selling the Copse. Not to anyone.

  Brian had repeatedly said the land was worthless, valueless, but it wasn’t. It was priceless. I saw that. The protestors had made me see it, the children themselves. When I met Red and his class down there and seeing how much the children blossomed outdoors. They needed more than classrooms and playgrounds. Walls and tarmacadam. They needed nature, the trees, the butterflies. The squirrels. When I thought of Rosie and how academically focussed her life had become, I had realised very clearly, that we needed to be very clear in what we were teaching children. There was more to life than exams and achievement. There was living and being in the world. The natural world. Something that might build greater resilience and strength as they grew up. It was the chance to sit and stare, the opportunity to be in nature, to daydream and to think, to make daisy chains and plait grasses, to climb trees and to lie on your back and hear the birds sing. Being outdoors, away from books and screens and pressure, like Rosaleen in her cherry tree or Nora in the Forty Foot.

  As I drove in through the school gates, the protestors were still set up. They wouldn’t give up.

  Nora was drinking a mug of tea. ‘Last day!’ she called, cheerily, utterly recovered from our dramatic trip to West Cork. There was the smell of sizzling bacon as Robbo fried it up while Arthur buttered the bread. ‘How are you?’ she said. ‘What happened with Michael?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘he’s moved into the flat in town, we’re getting a divorce and Lucy’s going to have his baby.’

  She whistled. ‘So he has lead in his pencil after all.’

  ‘Mum! How’s your headache?’ I said, pointedly.

  She ignored me. ‘And you and Rosie?’

  ‘Doing remarkably well.’

  She smiled. ‘Good. I’ll go round and see her later. She’s going to come for a swim with me. And what about himself?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Fella me lad,’ she said. ‘Redmond. Ah, you’re blushing. So something has happened?’

  ‘No nothing. Not yet. But I think it’s all there. Us. We’re still there, if that makes sense.’

  ‘Good for you, Tabitha. You deserve a bit of good romance in your life after Mr Stuffed Shirt. Me, I’ve had too much, but you, you haven’t had as much as you should.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said. ‘I think.’

  Just then, Arthur handed her a bacon sandwich – she was a fair-weather vegetarian – and she waved it at me. ‘And today’s the day, you’re making your big decision. You are not going to l
et me down, are you?’

  ‘You’ll find out,’ I said as I drove off, my hand waving to her from my open window.

  In the car park, Red was carrying Mrs Morrissey’s bags into the school and he waved. With Red in the world, I felt I could do anything.

  Mary was in the school office, tiny Huan in a Moses basket up against her desk. ‘Tabitha!’ she said in an urgent whisper. ‘Where were you? Didn’t you get my messages…?’

  I checked my phone in my bag, it had been on silent. Thirty-seven missed calls.

  ‘We’ve got the special assembly now… can it wait?’

  She shook her head and motioned to my office with her eyes just as Brian Crowley appeared from my door, his voluminous body eclipsing the light from the window, smiling his small-toothed crocodile smile.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me waiting in your office,’ he said, holding a sheaf of papers. ‘But it’s time to crack on. Get these babies signed. Last day of term and our man Freddie doesn’t like to wait for too long.’ He rubbed his hands.

  ‘Tabitha…’ Mary called.

  ‘I’ll talk to you in a moment, Mary,’ I said as I followed Brian into my office. Through the window and past the school gates were the protestors. These people full of life and conviction, the opposite of Brian Crowley who was full of self-interest and self-gain. Robbo, I could see, was strumming away on his guitar, Leaf was holding her hands up as Nellie wound wool around them and Arthur and Nora chatted to a group of elderly neighbours. And across the school playground was a place which would outlive us. The Copse was full of birds and their nests, the caterpillars, the squirrels, the snails, insects. The daisies waiting to be made into chains, the twigs and branches ready to be made into dens. We needed to clean it up, tidy it up. A few benches and from September on, it would be part of the school playground. Our wild play area. A place of infinite learning. And I knew, if I sold to Brian and this Freddie, I would regret it for ever.

  ‘Brian, we have our special assembly this morning, I was hoping to talk to you after it…’