Like One of the Family

by Nesta Tuomey

  ‘Sorry, Claire. What were you saying?’

  ‘Just that it’s great to get the lift,’ Claire repeated. ‘I’m going out again tonight and don’t have a lot of time to get ready.’

  Jane said pleased, ‘You’ve got a date? Is he nice this boyfriend of yours?’ ’

  Claire hesitated, loth for some reason to admit that she was meeting Terry.

  ‘It’s all right, Claire. I’m not nosey.’ Jane laughed. ‘Just glad you’ve found someone you like. You do like him a lot, don’t you? Somehow I can tell.’

  ‘Yes I do,’ Claire admitted, and felt a warm rush of delight at the thought of Terry.

  Rain beat continuously on the windscreen. Jane flicked the wipers to high speed and peered through the cloudy glass. ‘I can’t see too well,’ she said after a moment. ‘I think the rubber on the wipers needs replacing. I must get Terry to check it when he comes. I’m hopeless with anything mechanical and so is Sheena.’

  Claire felt somehow deceitful remaining silent as though her meeting with Terry would seem wrong in Jane’s eyes. But really hadn’t Jane always been most kindly to her, treating her like another daughter?

  Strangely, Jane’s kindliness was at the root of Claire’s unease, for she recognised that it wasn’t something she could ever take for granted, like a true daughter could. She stared out at the lashing rain and the old fear that Jane might some day discover what had taken place between Eddie and herself returned to haunt her. With an effort she turned her thoughts away from this bleak possibility and tried to recapture her earlier euphoria at meeting Terry.

  They met as arranged inside the gates of Trinity College.

  ‘Hi Claire,’ Terry said as she walked up to him, his eyes glowing with the pleasure of seeing her. ‘How do you look so smooth and unruffled in this weather?’

  She thought he was looking pretty smooth himself in a leather flying jacket with sheepskin lining.

  ‘You look almost too perfect,’ he said, running his hand teasingly over her hair in an effort to break the shyness between them.

  ‘Hey, you’re undoing the work of hours,’ she joked, twisting away from him. Her hair hung to her shoulders, straight and silky. They walked out on to the street and his hand reached for hers as they continued on close together towards Grafton Street.

  Terry seemed charged with energy. One minute hurrying her forward, the next pulling her back to look at the window display in Brown Thomas.

  It was filled with the latest spring fashion, clumps of fresh daffodils everywhere.

  ‘You’d look good in that, Claire.’ He pointed to a suit. Long jacket, short skirt. ‘Huh! Blondes look good in red. You sometimes wear red, don’t you?’

  She owned a dark red blazer. She was about to tell him when he swung her on.

  He began singing ‘The Lady in Red’. ‘You know what I feel, Claire?’ he broke off to ask.

  ‘What?’ She waited.

  ‘Like I’ve been just let out of school. I feel I’ve been missing out on life and now I’ve got a heck of a lot of catching up.’ He laughed. ‘C’mon. Let’s get a drink.’

  He brought her into a pub and got them beers. He drank fast, urging her to keep up with him, making her laugh out loud with descriptions of his life with the Air Corps.

  ‘Bloody bugle lifts us out of it in the morning,’ Terry sighed comically. ‘Then the drill sergeant crashes in the billet door like something out of an old Boulting Brothers comedy. Effing and blinding and shouting his head off.’

  Claire laughed. According to himself, he and his friend Con were the best pilots in his squadron. Nerves like iron and stomachs to match. Con had flown solo almost as quick as him. She was beginning to know a lot about Con, and feeling a tiny bit jealous too. Terry was so great with him.

  ‘Pete’s a pretty nifty flyer too,’ Terry was saying. ‘We’re all three of us hoping to go solo on night flying soon.’ Claire watched him, smiling faintly. He was showing off dreadfully but she liked it.

  ‘Ah, Clairey, don’t look at me like that,’ he said suddenly, ‘or I’ll have to kiss you.’

  She blushed. ‘Look at you like what?’

  ‘Like the ace pilot I’m cracking myself up to be.’

  After they finished their drinks they wandered back on to the street. The rain had quite cleared away and the night was mild.

  Terry said: ‘Mum’s going to Spain soon and I’m going with her.’

  ‘Wouldn’t I like to be you,’ Claire said wistfully. ‘I can’t wait to go back.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ll get down to join you for a few days this summer. I really hope so.

  ‘You’ll love the apartment,’ Claire told him. ‘It’s beautiful and it has a great view of the beach. That’s what I liked best.’ She was silent remembering the waves breaking on pale sands, the warm, geranium-scented air on the balcony. How lovely to go back again. She only hoped Jane would invite her.

  ‘Sheena never stops talking about the guys you met out there.’ Terry glanced down at Claire. ‘I suppose you’re equally besotted with the Spaniards?’

  ‘They were very nice,’ Claire said cautiously.

  ‘And this Fernando,’ Terry asked impatiently. ‘I’m always hearing his name.’

  ‘He’s one of the property developers. His father owns the apartment block. Fernando showed us over it.’ Claire smiled at the memory. ‘Sheena was really crazy about him.’

  ‘What about you?’ Terry asked jealously.

  ‘I liked him,’ she admitted.

  Terry scowled. ‘I suppose I’ll be meeting this guy when I go over. Have you any messages you’d like me to convey?’

  Claire looked up at him demurely, almost coquettishly. ‘Tell him I’m looking forward to returning to Spain.’

  They were walking up a darkened side street.

  Terry suddenly gripped Claire’s arm and swung her round to face him. He stared urgently into her eyes, his expression softened and blurred, bent his head and kissed her. It was a deep slow kiss, more like a seal of ownership than the suddenness of passion. When he lifted his mouth from hers, he smiled down at her and his teeth were large and square and very white. A little shakily she smiled back.

  They stood for a moment, not kissing or speaking, just holding each other. They were so close that Claire could feel his breath warm on her face and the buttons on his flying jacket pressed against her bosom.

  ‘Gosh!’ He spoke at last, sounding awed and very young. ‘I know this sounds stupid but I’ve never known a kiss like that. It was so...’ Words failed him. ‘Was it... did you find it...’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ Claire said simply.

  He took her hand and they started walking again, going along streets leading away from the town. They stopped once to have a drink in a pub, another time to buy cod and chips, sitting up on a wall outside the chipper to eat it, before walking on.

  ‘Is this too much for you, Claire?’ Terry asked her at one stage. ‘I mean you aren’t wearing shoes that hurt, or anything?’

  Claire shook her head. She loved him for thinking of that. She could have walked for ever.

  They talked until they reached the street where they lived. At least Terry talked and Claire listened, asking a question now and then. He couldn’t keep off the subject of flying, describing the squadron and the guys and his flying instructor, Captain Dinny Monahan. Claire got the impression of a big good-humoured man with a hot temper and razor sharp wit. She did not think she would fancy army life herself. She could see, however, that Terry, rather than resenting the toughness and discipline, actually revelled in it. Jane had been right, she thought, feeling excluded by Terry’s new way of life and his close friendship with Con and Pete. He didn’t need her and she longed to be needed.

  They slowed outside her house. Without a word, Terry drew her across the road and down the side of his house. He led her into the garage by the small side door. As they stood pressed together in the musty darkness, Claire felt a deep unease, thinking of her thirteen-year-old se
lf crouching in the darkness, listening to the sound of Eddie’s voice and his footsteps crunching past on the gravel outside.

  Why did you bring me here? she wanted to cry out, but then as Terry pressed his lips down on hers, she pushed away all thought of anything but him and returned his kisses with equal fervour.

  Jane came out of her bedroom at the sound of the front door closing and went downstairs. Terry turned from hanging up his jacket. He looked happy and smiling and was humming under his breath.

  ‘Why aren’t you asleep, Mum?’ he demanded. ‘I told you not to wait up.’

  Jane opened the door of her surgery. ‘Come in a moment, Terry’ she said quietly, ‘I have something to say to you’.

  ‘Oho! What have I done now?’ Confidently, he followed her inside. He threw himself into a chair, legs sprawling, and regarded her quizzically.

  Jane sat down behind her desk. He looked so mature, she thought with a pang, glancing away from his amused, handsome face. He’s almost twenty, old enough to take responsibility for his actions.

  ‘Today at the clinic Grainne came to me,’ Jane launched straight into it. ‘She thinks she’s pregnant.’

  She saw the smile fade from his eyes. He eyed her warily.

  ‘What’s it to do with me?’

  Jane frowned. ‘Please don’t make things worse with lies.’

  ‘Mum!’ Terry protested. ‘You’re assuming I’m responsible without even asking me.’ He attempted to laugh

  ‘Are you, Terry?’

  ‘I’m damned sure I wasn’t the only one,’ he said with a scowl.

  Jane acknowledged this with a slight nod of her head. ‘She seemed to think you might say that.’

  ‘But it’s true, Mum,’ Terry protested. ‘She’s been around. Some of the fellows...’ he broke off.

  ‘So you thought it was enough to leave everything up to her?’ She eyed him sternly. ‘Don’t you realise what selfish and irresponsible thinking that is? Apart from the risk of bringing a child into being, you are leaving yourself open to all kinds of trouble.’

  He winced at the scorn in her tone.

  ‘I realise that now,’ he said lamely. ‘I didn’t look much beyond having a good time.’

  Jane felt a sudden rush of love for him. She wanted to wipe the expression of shamed misery from his face, assure him that she understood and loved him. Instead she said coolly, ‘Well, until we get the result of the test we’ll just have to wait and see.’ She stood up. ‘You’d better go to bed now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ He went to her contritely. ‘I’m sorry I put you in this position.’

  ‘Goodnight, Terry.’ She hesitated then inclined her cheek for his kiss. ‘Maybe it will be a good lesson to learn that you can’t indulge your passions without paying some price.’

  ‘Goodnight, Mum.’ With a last wretched look at her, he went out the door and she heard his footsteps sounding heavily on the stairs. As soon as he was gone the rigidity left her pose and Jane went back to sit at her desk. He had been so happy and glowing when he came in, she thought regretfully.

  Jane felt old and tired and unbearably vulnerable. If only she had someone to advise her, she thought, someone strong who would love and support her.

  She leaned forward in her swivel chair and picked up the photograph she kept on her desk of her husband. She stared at his sombre, handsome face and wished desperately she could go back in time and somehow prevent what had happened. ‘Oh Eddie,’ she whispered, ‘I’ve tried to bring them up well. I’ve tried my best but...’

  She went to the window and stared out at the darkened driveway. The bulb in the porch had burned out and in the street too the lamp was dead. She shivered, thinking Terry must take responsibility for what he had done and at least offer his support to Grainne so that if she genuinely wanted it, she might have her child. But if she didn’t ...

  Jane’s spirits sank lower as she remembered her promise to help the girl. She had all along supported women’s right to freedom of choice, but the thought now of an abortion was utterly distasteful to her.

  Terry lay motionless in his darkened bedroom, unhappily staring at the dim outlines of the football posters on his wall. Normally he loved being back in the comfort and privacy of his own room after sharing a billet with fifteen other flying cadets. But tonight bitterness lay like silt upon his soul. He had been at the threshold of a wonderful life and now it was spoiled before it was barely begun.

  What wounded him most was the memory of Claire’s soft farewell to him. ‘No more misunderstandings, Terry.’

  Those gently whispered words had touched him deeply, filling him with hope for the future. And now it could never be! By his stupidity he had jeopardised his chances of happiness. He turned his head into the pillow to smother the groan of despair which rose in his throat.

  Grainne’s love for Terry was genuine. She would even go ahead and have the baby, she told Trish, if only she could have him too. Three years of an age difference was nothing. Some men were still juvenile at forty. Terry, at nineteen, was as masculine and mature as ever she wished to find.

  ‘You seem to have handled it well,’ Trish said approvingly. ‘But stick out for marriage, Gra. There’s a limit to the amount of terminations anyone can have.’

  Grainne had been pregnant before, five years earlier when she was eighteen. She had solved her troubles by crossing the water.

  ‘He’ll probably try and slither out of it.’ Grainne said glumly, still smarting over the way Terry had ditched her the previous week. ‘What’ll I do then?’

  Trish shrugged. ‘Depends on how his mother feels. She might be just as glad for you to get rid of it. ‘You might even get some money out of it.’

  ‘I don’t want money. I want Terry.’ Grainne began to cry. She had felt awful all day. She knew in her heart that she didn’t want to have a baby or an abortion. She just wanted to be happy again, without pressures of any kind. She clutched her stomach. The cramps were really bad. Maybe she was having a miscarriage.

  ‘Are you sure you’re pregnant?’ Trish asked suspiciously.

  Grainne did not bother to reply. Of course she was pregnant. She had known just as soon as she realised that the guy hadn’t used a condom. That was the trouble with one night stands, she thought resentfully. Men on the booze all night and no conscience about doing it to you unprotected. She had been too far gone herself to notice until it was too late. Yes, of course, she was pregnant.

  Only she wasn’t. She woke up the next morning to find her period had come. It was heavier than usual so it might have been an early miss. Her first feeling was relief, her second dismay. Now she would never get Terry to come back to her.

  Grainne went into the clinic with a long face. How was going to face Dr McArdle? She grew hot just thinking of the things she had told her about all the times Terry had come to her flat and the things they had done.

  Then Grainne remembered that Jane was not due into the clinic until the following week. She felt weak with relief. She went to the fridge and was about to take out her specimen and dump it when she heard the outer door of the clinic opening and went out to the reception desk.

  Mary McCann stood there looking tired and flustered. ‘My little boy was sick all night or I would have got here earlier,’ she explained. She took a tonic bottle filled with liquid out of her bag and thrust it down on the desk. ‘I lost the container the doctor gave me but I gave this one a good wash.’

  ‘Fine, fine,’ Grainne said, hiding a smirk. Enough piss, she thought, to do fifty tests.

  ‘You’ll ring me as soon as you get the result,’ Mary asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, of course, Mrs McCann. The very minute we hear,’ Grainne said smoothly, and waited until she was gone before going back inside. So the woman was pregnant again, she thought.

  Grainne hunted in a drawer for a sterilised container. She labelled it with the woman’s name and poured in a small amount of her urine. She was about to jettison the rest of it when an idea too
k hold. Why couldn’t she still have Terry? She stared at the bottle thoughtfully. Right! So McCann was almost certainly pregnant again. What could be more convincing?

  Grainne’s emotions were still raw from Terry’s rejection and her recent fright. She picked up her own container labelled in Jane’s handwriting, and filled it with the overflow from Mary McCann’s specimen, then put both containers back in the fridge. She was only just in time, for the messenger was at the door and took them away to the laboratory.

  Claire thought of little else but Terry. He had said he would ring her before the end of the week, but she was sure he would not wait that long. She wished it was possible for her to ring him as Monday and Tuesday came and went without a word. She told herself that it wasn’t easy for him to contact her. After all there must be hundreds of people in Baldonnel using the public payphone.

  Terry did queue up for the phone a number of times that week but each time it was his turn to make his call, shrugged and let the guy behind him have it. He tortured himself with visions of Claire’s growing impatience at his silence and, in retaliation, starting to date some other guy. When the strain became too much for him he rang her number merely to hear her voice, but as soon as she spoke, hastily replaced the phone.

  ‘What am I doing?’ he asked himself in anguish. ‘Am I crazy?’ He felt a little crazy. All week he had carried the burden of Grainne’s pregnancy around with him. The only time he could shuck off his anxiety was when he was in the air.

  Now the squadron was engaged in formation flying during the day and each evening, once darkness fell, he and Con were putting in a lot of practise at night flying. Both manoeuvres demanded precision and close concentration and kept him from brooding too much. Soon they would begin their gunnery course. All these exercises provided a distraction from his unhappy thoughts but as soon as he was back on the ground Terry felt swamped by his dilemma.

  ‘‘So what if she is pregnant?’ he told himself. ‘I don’t have to marry her.’ But the thought of Claire’s disgusted reaction sent him into the miseries again. She would never look at him once she knew. Terry groaned.