Sowing the Seeds of Love

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Sowing the Seeds of Love Page 8

by Tara Heavey


  Megan rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I do.’ She sounded almost angry. Her tone, her body language screamed, ‘Go away.’

  ‘Did something happen to you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When you were younger, did something traumatic happen to you? Did someone hurt you?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous, Seth. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.’

  Was he? He couldn’t tell. ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes, you are. Look. As a man, your libido is stronger than mine, that’s all. You naturally want it more than I do. It’s perfectly normal. Probably all husbands feel the same way.’

  Did they? Perhaps. He allowed himself to be soothed, wanting to believe it, although a niggle of doubt remained.

  ‘Now, come here and give me a cuddle.’ She pulled him close to her so that his head was resting on her chest. More cuddling. ‘Do you realize how lucky we are, Seth, to have each other? I don’t know any other girls who get on so well with their husbands or boyfriends. I mean, we do everything together.’

  It was true. They did. Except…

  ‘And there’s no one else I’d rather spend my time with.’

  ‘Me neither.’ It was true. There wasn’t.

  ‘So let’s just appreciate what we have.’ She stroked his hair.

  She was right as usual. Seth lay there and did his best to feel appreciative. Although mostly he just felt horny.

  Then, the following month, something happened that changed things drastically. They were eating out one night, on the occasion of Megan’s twenty-ninth birthday. Seth had ordered champagne. He watched his wife as she sparkled across the table. They were waiting for their dessert to arrive when she covered his hand with her own. He felt a surge of happiness at her touch. ‘Seth,’ she said. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. About what?’

  ‘Well, I think it might be time,’ she paused to take a sip of champagne, ‘for us to try for a baby.’

  ‘What?’ Seth was astonished. He hadn’t seen that one coming.

  ‘A baby, Seth. You heard what I said. What do you think?’ Her voice was gentle but her eyes were full of concern.

  ‘Jesus, Megan! Of all the things to spring on me!’

  ‘You can’t be that surprised. We’ve talked about it before. You said you wanted kids.’

  ‘I do, I do. Some day. Not right away.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘We’re barely married. We still have loads of things to get for the house –’

  ‘You think furniture’s more important than a family?’

  ‘No! No, of course not. I didn’t mean that. I just mean – what’s the big rush all of a sudden?’

  ‘It’s not a “big rush”.’

  He was pissing her off. He could tell.

  ‘I suppose it’s because I’m twenty-nine now. It’s made me think. I can see thirty looming. The younger a woman has her babies, the better it is for her physically.’

  Babies! They had gone from baby to babies in under a minute. How many sprogs did the woman want?

  ‘I just don’t see the point in waiting,’ she continued. ‘We have each other, we’re married, we have our house. We’re both bringing in an income.’

  She was making perfect sense, of course. As usual. He smiled at her and covered her small, perfect, feminine hand with his big calloused one. ‘I suppose I was hoping to keep you to myself for as long as possible.’

  Megan smiled, sensing victory. ‘You’ll still have me,’ she said. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘When do you want to start trying?’

  ‘Tonight if you like.’

  That sealed the deal.

  From that night on, everything became wonderful and rose-coloured in Seth’s world. The one thing that had been missing from his life, he now had. The sight of his wife bouncing up and down on top of him, milky breasts jiggling, hair flying, became a common occurrence. He couldn’t get enough of her. He felt as if he’d struck gold. At last he had a willing participant. When she wasn’t having sex with him, she was reading books about fertility, most favourable positions, foods to eat. She even had him taking zinc tablets, one a day, every morning with his breakfast. She made him laugh, supervising him like a hospital matron. He wasn’t allowed to carry his mobile in his front pocket any more. And he was under strict instructions not to put his laptop on his lap. Something about heating up the testicles. He was glad enough to go along with it all, just as he always did everything in his power to make Megan happy.

  His best mate pulled him up on it. They were having a drink one night, in what used to be their local. Seth had just told Barry – still a bachelor and proud of it – that they were trying for a baby. ‘So you could be looking at a daddy before long.’

  ‘Is that really what you want?’

  ‘Of course it’s what I want.’

  ‘Who came up with the idea?’

  ‘Well – Megan, I suppose.’

  ‘Ah, yes. What Megan wants, Megan gets.’

  ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Nothing, nothing. I didn’t mean anything.’ Barry held up his hands defensively.

  Seth took a gulp of his pint. ‘Look, you’re not even married. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘True. You’re absolutely right. What do I know about having a wife?’

  ‘Exactly. Fuck all.’

  ‘I’m just looking out for you, that’s all. Making sure it’s what you want too.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Well, then, I’m happy for you.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  They dropped the matter and spent the rest of the night discussing the Premiership. Neither wanted to jeopardize their friendship.

  But the conversation had made Seth think. He spoke to his brother, Aaron. They were in their parents’ house, fixing a leak under the kitchen sink. ‘What do you think of Megan?’ he said suddenly, as if he was trying to catch his brother off-guard.

  His brother looked at him through the U-bend, puzzled. ‘What do I think of her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What are you asking me that for?’

  ‘Just answer the question.’

  His brother considered it for a few moments. ‘Well, she’s a fine-looking bird and she makes a mean shepherd’s pie.’

  Seth laughed, comforted by his brother’s lack of depth. But he knew it would be a cop-out to end the investigation there. He should take it to a higher court. To the people who loved him best in the world.

  He didn’t ask his mother. He was pretty sure he already had a handle on her feelings for Megan. She liked her as well as she could like any woman who had taken Seth away from her. He believed she thought Megan pretty, intelligent and personable – decent daughter-in-law material if one had to have such a creature in one’s life. This was what he believed. He lacked the courage to put it to the test. So he asked his father.

  He and Uri were clearing up together after one of his mother’s delectable roasts. It was just the two of them. ‘Da, can I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘What do you think – I mean really think – of Megan?’

  His father looked at him for a very long time. Then he spoke. ‘I believe you are very much in love with her.’

  Seth nodded. He wouldn’t have expected anything less from the Zen master. Uri had hit the nail on the head. It didn’t matter what anybody else thought of her. He loved Megan and that was the beginning and the end of it. The alpha and the omega. It was irrelevant now anyway, because after three months, during which time Seth had watched his wife’s jiggling turn from enthusiastic to desperate, Megan had succeeded in becoming pregnant. They were pregnant – as she was prone to say, making him cringe.

  He didn’t know how he felt about it, really. He knew she was thrilled and he knew that they had stopped doing the wild thing. She didn’t want to hurt
the baby. Truth be told, he couldn’t relate to the thing that was growing inside his wife’s belly. She still looked the same to him. Apart from a funny look around her eyes at times.

  Megan threw herself into ‘their’ pregnancy with much gusto. And Seth went along with it. Painting the nursery. Putting up a jungle-animal frieze and hanging a matching mobile over the cot. They went on shopping trips to Mothercare and bought tiny white Babygros and hats – they reminded him of miniature skullcaps. And then there were the interminable conversations about names. She never tired of that one.

  In time, the pregnancy started to show. Megan had already bought a lifetime’s supply of maternity clothes. Seth kept waiting for the baby to feel more real to him, but it never happened. He did, however, like to look at his pregnant wife, thinking her incredibly voluptuous, with her full breasts resting neatly on her swollen belly. He dutifully held his hand on her bump every time she alerted him to a kick – and tried hard not to think, So what? What she was feeling was clearly more profound than what he was feeling. But the days turned into weeks turned into months. Until the unbelievable became inevitable and his wife was full-term. As in, he could become a father at any second. And still the enormity of it escaped him.

  Then one day he was out on a job. He’d just returned to his jeep, having spent the morning planting a grove of native trees, when his mobile rang. It was his brother, Aaron. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

  ‘Nowhere. Here. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Your wife’s gone into labour. We’ve been trying to contact you for the last two hours. You’d better get to the hospital pretty sharpish if you know what’s good for you.’

  ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘Far as I know.’ Aaron laughed. ‘You’d better hurry.’

  Seth cut Aaron off only to discover he had fifteen missed calls and eight messages on his phone. He didn’t stop to check them, just hot-rodded it to the hospital.

  When Megan saw him she yelled, ‘Where were you?’ then dissolved into tears. ‘Seth.’ She held out her arms. ‘I’m so scared.’

  ‘It’s okay, love. I’m here now.’ He felt a greater bond with his wife at that moment than he had in the past nine months.

  Over the next few hours it seemed to Seth that some primeval creature, its face contorted with pain, had taken over his wife’s body. All he could do was watch.

  Their daughter was born a few minutes after midnight, a swirl of black hair on her pointed little head. Seth had never seen or felt anything like it. She was real at last, this child of his.

  ‘What’ll we call her?’ murmured Megan.

  ‘After what you’ve been through, you should choose.’

  ‘I want to call her Kathy.’

  ‘Kathy it is.’

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘I love it.’

  ‘I love you, Seth.’

  ‘I love you too, Megan.’

  She moved out of their bedroom shortly after her return from the hospital. It was so Seth could get some sleep, what with the baby crying all night. She didn’t want him to fall asleep at the wheel and crash the jeep. He was grateful for this as Kathy did cry a lot, but he missed his wife’s presence in their bed. Looking back, he was too overwhelmed at the time with new fatherhood to give it much thought. Who was this tiny blob who had taken over his entire existence? The red-faced, screaming despot who, for some unfathomable reason, he loved to distraction. Everyone said she was the spit of him. He couldn’t see it. To him she was oddly like Uri. This minute bundle of femininity reminded him of a bearded old man. He hoped she’d grow out of it – he knew she would: she’d grow up to be the most beautiful woman ever to walk the planet. Apart from her mother.

  A year passed, and Seth was still sleeping alone. It couldn’t be the crying any more because Kathy had stopped. And she’d dropped her night-time feed.

  It was breakfast time. Kathy was in her high chair. Megan was feeding her baby gloop. Seth stood at the counter with his mug of coffee. ‘When are you moving back in, Meg?’

  The spoon of gloop hung suspended in mid-air. Kathy’s mouth gaped open like a baby bird’s.

  ‘Moving back in where?’

  ‘You know where. Into our bedroom.’

  Megan sighed. ‘Aren’t we fine the way we are?’

  ‘No, Megan, I don’t think we are. I want you to move back in.’

  ‘But, Seth, darling, you snore.’ She laughed prettily.

  ‘I’ll buy you a set of ear-plugs.’ Seth was grim.

  Kathy began to protest and Megan shovelled the food into her mouth. ‘Look, Seth, I’ve been giving this some thought and I think it would be best if we could –’

  ‘If we could what?’

  ‘If we could – well – live like brother and sister.’

  Seth felt something dangerous well up inside him.

  ‘I mean,’ Megan continued, sounding ever more confident, ‘essentially that’s what we’ve been doing for the past year and it’s worked out pretty well, don’t you think?’

  Seth could contain himself no longer. ‘I don’t want a fucking sister,’ he roared. ‘I want a wife. You’re supposed to be my fucking wife.’

  There was a terrible silence in the kitchen. The two women in Seth’s life stared at him in horror. Then they began to cry, first Megan, her face crumpling, then Kathy, wailing inconsolably. Seth lifted his daughter out of her high chair, sickened that he’d frightened her to tears. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ he murmured, over and over, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. ‘It’s okay.’

  When the child finally calmed down, he handed her back to her mother. ‘I won’t be home tonight,’ was all he said.

  That night Seth got well and truly bladdered. He met up with Barry and the lads and fooled himself that it was just like old times. Most of his friends were unmarried. No wives, no kids, no responsibilities. After the pub, they got the Dart into town and went to a club. Once inside, Seth felt like a fish out of water so he drank like a fish. To forget about that and to forget about everything. A girl came up to him. She had over-processed hair and a strong Dublin accent. She was forward, tarty. The exact opposite to Megan. Seth went back to her flat and shagged her brains out.

  He woke the next morning feeling sicker than he ever remembered feeling. The girl was in the shower. At least, the other side of the rumpled bed was empty and he could hear water running somewhere close by. He pulled on his clothes and left the flat, shutting the door quietly, wanting to put the whole sordid business behind him. He was in a part of town he didn’t recognize. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a shop window. He didn’t recognize that either. He looked rough. He hailed a taxi and got the hell out of Dodge.

  Once home, and miraculously still in possession of his keys, he let himself in and walked straight up the stairs. He knew Megan was at home because her car was parked outside, but he didn’t look for her. He dragged his clothes off and left them in a heap on the bedroom floor. Then he stepped into the shower and attempted to wash away the excesses of the night. Feeling marginally better, he grabbed a towel and walked back into the bedroom. Megan was sitting on the bed, looking at him coldly. He stood directly in front of her, towelling himself viciously, almost taunting her with his naked body.

  ‘Where were you last night?’

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t be home.’

  ‘I asked you a question, Seth.’

  He took a step closer to her, bearing down now. ‘You want to know where I was last night?’ he hissed. ‘Fucking some tart. That’s where.’

  Megan’s lower lip trembled. Seth threw his towel on to the bed and began tugging out drawers, looking for clean clothes.

  ‘How could you do that?’ She was openly sobbing now.

  ‘It was easy.’

  Something had shifted. She was crying and he didn’t even care. He had reduced his beloved wife to tears yet he didn’t give a shit. What kind of cold bastard was he? Later there would be guilt, self-hatred and shame. But for now�
� Perhaps he was still drunk. He was fully dressed. ‘I’m going to work.’

  ‘What? Now? Just like that? You can’t –’

  But he was already gone.

  On his way out of the house, he heard a noise coming from the sitting room. He paused and looked in at the door. Kathy was in her playpen, gurgling at her teddy bears. She saw Seth and her face broke into smiles. She held up her arms to him. He went inside and picked her up, hugging her fiercely until she squealed. He lifted her away and looked into her face. She was rubbing the side of her cheek, which was red. He automatically touched his own with his fingertips. Rough and unshaven. He’d given his little girl razor burn. He hugged her again, more carefully this time. ‘That’s the last time I’ll ever hurt you, Kathy.’

  Then he began to cry.

  19

  Subtle changes were taking place in the neighbourhood. There was a conspicuous lack of litter on the streets surrounding the garden, and the saplings that the corporation planted along the roadside, routinely snapped every couple of months by the local yobbos, had remained intact. The gardeners became accustomed to faces pressed against the wrought-iron gate, as if their owners were starved of beauty. Aoife tried to convince Mrs Prendergast to leave the gate open, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  Subtle changes were taking place in the garden too, and not just to the plants. Walls within the walled garden were crumbling, between those who worked there and around some of their hearts.

  Seth was helping Aoife plant out her tomatoes. It was a glorious May morning as they knelt together before the south-facing wall. Mrs Prendergast floated by, carrying her new secateurs with the flowered handle. ‘You’re planting them out too early.’

  Seth looked up at her. ‘Do you think so, Mrs P?’

  ‘Yes. We may have more frost.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I think we will.’

  ‘I think we won’t.’

  ‘Have it your way.’

  ‘I will.’

  Mrs Prendergast stalked off, her expression thunderous.

  ‘Why do you always have to antagonize her?’

  ‘Because it’s fun.’

 

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