Dancing to the End of Love

by White, Adrian

  Being pregnant suited Siobhan, though she didn’t really show much until after almost six months. Her being so well seemed to confirm how perfect this all was, how right it was that we should have chosen this way of life. I keep saying it, but it really was a very happy time.

  “So what went wrong?” asks Juliette.

  “Our baby was born,” I say.

  “Ciara?”

  “Yes, everything changed once Ciara was born.”

  “No rock and roll names,” I told Siobhan when we were trying to agree on what to call our baby. We knew she was going to be a girl and when Siobhan suggested Ciara I thought perhaps it was a little rock and roll but still – a beautiful name.

  “Ciara McGovern,” I said.

  “Do you mind her having my name?” Siobhan asked and I assured her it was fine. I didn’t need to get married, or for my daughter to carry my name. I already had everything I wanted.

  Siobhan had an easy pregnancy but it wasn’t an easy birth. I was there. It was hard to watch and I wasn’t much use. When I read later in magazines or newspapers that Siobhan went crazy, I didn’t agree. Something happened while she was giving birth to Ciara that affected the chemicals in her body, the balance of chemicals in her body, because she was never the same Siobhan again. I don’t know what happened and I had to leave before I learnt what really changed, but that’s my way of rationalising the difference in her behaviour towards me. It’s too easy to say she went crazy. It’s too pat and it still hurts too much.

  The one picture that I still have in my head is of Siobhan and Ciara together on the bed. Ciara was content and feeding at Siobhan’s breast. They were both naked, on top of the sheets, and Siobhan sat upright with her legs crossed, almost in the lotus position. It was a beautiful thing to see; I think it is the single most beautiful thing I have ever seen or am ever likely to see. It was powerful too; an image that carried an enormous amount of power. When I stepped towards the bed, Siobhan looked up, and I saw that she was crying. She wasn’t sobbing at all, but tears were streaming down her face and on to Ciara’s head.

  “Siobhan,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  I reached out to touch her but she pulled back and turned with Ciara to face the wall.

  “Siobhan,” I said again.

  “Stay away from me,” she said. “Stay away from us.”

  She apologised later and we hugged, but I could tell Siobhan wasn’t comfortable in my arms. I decided to give her some time and some space, but to be there for her all the same. I tried to talk to her about it, to tell her that it wasn’t unusual to be depressed after having had a baby, but she said it wasn’t that.

  “So what is it then?” I asked, but she wouldn’t say.

  She stopped breastfeeding and told me she wanted to go back to work. The band were recording some new material and a tour of America had been set up for the autumn. By the band, I knew Siobhan meant Danny Callinan.

  “It’s been almost a year now, anyway,” she said.

  “If that’s what you want, then yes.”

  “That’s what we agreed, wasn’t it?”

  Yes, that was what we had agreed.

  “And we’re not doing anything here, are we? It’s not like you write at all, or anything like that.”

  “Anything like that? I’m happy just to be here with you and Ciara.”

  “Well, we can’t go on like this forever. One of us has to earn some money.”

  “I suppose so, yes, though I didn’t think that was so important to you.”

  “It’s not important – just essential, that’s all. Not that you’d understand, or ever consider contributing anything at all.”

  “Do you want me to work, or do you want to work? Which are you saying?”

  “What’s the point of you working? You’re never going to earn any money. No, I’ll go back on tour with the band. You can stay here and mind your daughter.”

  I just didn’t know this Siobhan. It was the body of the person I loved in front of me, but I didn’t know the person she had become.

  “I understand if you want to go back to work,” I said. “I never thought this break would last forever, and you’re good at what you do – you know you are. But if it’s a question of money, then I’m not interested. I only want you to go back to work if that’s what makes you happy. I just want you to be happy and well.”

  “Of course you’re not interested in the money, because you sponge everything you own off me.”

  And so it went on. I stayed behind in Dublin with Ciara while Siobhan rejoined the band. I hoped that once she started working again, she’d come back to me, or that she’d work her way out of whatever it was she’d got herself into. We’d become so close over the past year that I couldn’t imagine she would just give up on us, and I thought it was worth my while going through anything if I could only have Siobhan be in love with me again.

  And, of course, I had Ciara. I’m not saying it was easy, or that I was a natural at looking after a young baby, because it certainly wasn’t easy and I was anything but a natural. Once Ciara was about five months old though, and it stopped being so much about feeding and cleaning her, and we could get out more often with the nicer weather, it was much more a pleasure than a chore. I tried to keep to the shopping and cooking and eating routine for myself, which Siobhan and I had established over the previous year, but it was harder and not so satisfying when there was only myself to please. I didn’t do as good a job of looking after myself as I had with Siobhan.

  Whenever Siobhan came back home on a visit, it was strange to see Ciara in the third person, from a distance with someone else – even if that person was her mother. Ciara and I were so close that it was impossible to think of her other than as a part of me. I was worried about the lack of variety and stimuli in her young life; she needed more than I could give her and sometimes I was too tired to even bother. I often took her around to her grandparents for that very reason, and asked Siobhan’s mother if such and such was normal, or should I be doing things this way, or was Ciara at the right stage for her age? I bought a book on a child’s first year of life, but I was too exhausted to read it. Siobhan’s mum and dad were fine with me calling round and were always happy to make a fuss of their granddaughter. They were at a loss as to what their own daughter was playing at though, and I could see how strange they thought was the whole business of Siobhan being away from home.

  But Ciara seemed to be doing okay. She was a very happy baby, and I knew just how lucky I was. If she’d been a bawler, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Anything could be made better by blowing on her tummy to make her laugh and giggle; it was a tonic for the two of us.

  I tried at this time to get back in touch with my Danny, but it didn’t go well. The same old questions were in the air between us: what did I think was really going on between Siobhan and myself? He was great with Ciara but I knew he thought I was being used.

  “It’s not unheard of for a bloke to stay at home and look after his child,” I said.

  “If you can’t see what’s happening,” Danny said, “I can’t help you.”

  “Tell me; tell me what’s happening.”

  “Jesus – read the papers, can’t you? Everybody seems to know apart from you.”

  “Say it – say what’s happening. Tell me what you’ve read in the paper that’s so important.”

  “That she’s back with Danny Callinan, you fool.”

  I either believed Danny or I trusted Siobhan, and I chose to trust Siobhan. I knew enough – I was old enough – not to challenge Siobhan about it before she left for America. If it was true, it was true; if it wasn’t, I could make it true simply by asking. I just wanted her back, and I was prepared to do anything to get her back; the problem was, there didn’t seem to be anything I could do.

  I knew I’d lost her when Siobhan said what she said about 9/11. She went on some chat show – I forget which one, if I ever knew – and told the American people they had it coming. I knew what she meant
– that they can’t go on interfering in the affairs of other nation states without one day somebody interfering with theirs – but it was a stupid thing to say; an unforgivable thing to say in America.

  I watched the buildings come down with Ciara in my arms. Siobhan and the band were in Ohio, but I still couldn’t help but worry. There was no way of contacting her. I knew the tour agenda, but didn’t know where she was staying, or her dates of travelling from one city to the next. I didn’t know much really.

  I held Ciara and watched, dreading America’s response. A part of me hoped that they might finally learn, but I already knew which way they’d go. It was all too predictable over the next few days, but I couldn’t have predicted that Siobhan would come out and say such a thing on live television.

  I wanted to speak to her, to lie down next to her in bed and cup her belly in my hand and tell her it was okay, come home and we can live here and we can find a way to be together. Look at our beautiful daughter; she’s all anybody could ever need.

  But when Siobhan did come home, it wasn’t like that at all. The rest of the American tour had been cancelled and it looked very much like the band was about to split up for good. At first, Siobhan went back to Hertfordshire but then she came to see me in Glasnevin.

  “I want to live here,” she said. “Without you,” she added, in case I wasn’t clear what she meant.

  “And where are we supposed to go?”

  “I don’t really care where you go, but I want Ciara to stay here with me.”

  “You can’t just decide things like that. I’m not about to give up Ciara just because you’ve decided you finally want to be her mother.”

  “She’s not yours to give up, or to keep. She’s my daughter and I get to decide what happens to her.”

  “She’s my daughter too.” I almost said more so, but even at this late stage I was still trying to placate Siobhan.

  “Nevertheless, I get to decide what happens, and I want you out by the end of the month. This is my house and Ciara is my daughter.”

  Even the house was in Siobhan’s name only.

  “But I’ve looked after her all this time,” I said. “She barely knows who you are. If it comes right down to it, I’m the person she knows and trusts the most.”

  “We’ll see shall we, what it comes right down to? If you’re not prepared to go willingly, then I’ll have to take action to force you to leave.”

  “What do you mean – like through the courts? You wouldn’t stand a chance, Siobhan, and you know it. I’m Ciara’s parent. I’m the person responsible for looking after her this past year, while you were off fucking your boyfriend in America.”

  “You can’t support Ciara,” Siobhan said. “You have no money.”

  “I can get money,” I said. “I can find a job.”

  “But then you won’t be here to look after Ciara. Forget it, Brendan; they always side with the mother in these cases. You haven’t a chance of getting custody of Ciara.”

  “More chance than you, I think. You left us, remember.”

  “Only for my own safety, and now I’m concerned for the safety of my child.”

  I didn’t know what to say to this. At least Siobhan had the decency to look away.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I want you out of this house and out of Ciara’s life.”

  “You can’t stop me seeing my daughter.”

  “As I said, we’ll see. You have until the end of the month.”

  She turned and left the room.

  “Siobhan,” I called after her, but the Siobhan I knew had already left.

  “What did you do?” asks Juliette.

  I look across at her, to see if she’s judging me, but I can’t read the expression on her face.

  “You know what I did.”

  “Okay – how did you come to the decision you did?”

  “I’m not proud of it, you know.”

  Juliette doesn’t say anything.

  “I was angry, of course, after she’d left, and full of . . . .”

  “Full of what?”

  “I don’t know what the word is.”

  “Try.”

  “It doesn’t matter, and it didn’t matter at the time because Ciara was crying and either hungry or she needed changing or something. So I did what I had to do. I jollied Ciara along into thinking everything was all right, even though I was nearly bind with anger.”

  “But what did you do once you’d calmed Ciara down? Once you’d calmed down yourself?”

  “I never calmed down. I’m not calm now.”

  “But did you go and see a solicitor?”

  “I saw three separate solicitors and they all told me the same thing – that I was fucked. That if Siobhan wanted to play dirty, there was very little I could do about it.”

  “But she was lying, surely? You hadn’t done anything to hurt Ciara – had you?”

  “It didn’t matter one way or the other; it would be her mother’s word against mine. The best I could hope for would be to be granted some form of access to see Ciara; that I should put all my effort into persuading Siobhan to at least grant me that.”

  “But why? Why did she turn against you in that way?”

  “I don’t know. At the time, I was ready to believe that she’d really lost her mind, or that she was being manipulated by Danny Callinan, or a whole host of things.”

  “Did you speak to your Danny?”

  “No, because I knew what he’d say. He’d tried to warn me and he’d been right.”

  “So you just gave in?”

  “No, I didn’t just give in, although I knew already this was a fight I couldn’t win. I asked the third solicitor what would happen if I just disappeared with Ciara and he advised me not to. I’d be found eventually and it would stand against me. Plus, how could I hope to live in a foreign country with such a young baby? I said I could probably do it in England, but he said it’d be easier for Siobhan to find me there than anywhere. Two days later I received a letter from her London solicitor. In it she offered me a one-off payment of a half-million in Sterling if I’d commit to never seeing Ciara again. I took the letter to show my guy and asked if we couldn’t use this against Siobhan; that she was prepared to buy me off? He said even that – the offer of money – could be shown in the positive light of a mother who was desperate to protect the safety of her baby. Perhaps if I was to refuse the money, it might go easy on my appeal for retaining some form of access.”

  “But you took the money?”

  “Yes, I took the money.”

  I shift positions slightly on my seat, but the sun has moved around the corner of the house. All of a sudden it really feels like October.

  “Siobhan’s solicitor and her bodyguard Stevie called to Glasnevin on the final day of that September. I still hadn’t made up my mind what to do, but Stevie’s presence helped. He said that I was to leave the house, and that I could either go with the cheque or without it.”

  “What about Ciara?”

  “She was awake but quiet. She was almost fifteen months old and well able to walk, so I’d put her in her playpen when Siobhan’s solicitor called to the door.”

  “Didn’t it break your heart to say goodbye to her?”

  “I didn’t say goodbye and I don’t think I had a heart left to break. I just signed the papers where the solicitor asked and took the cheque from Stevie’s hand on my way out the door.”

  Juliette stands up to leave.

  “I think you gave in too easily.”

  I’m tempted to tell her I don’t give a flying fuck what she thinks.

  “Always willing to fight the good fight, aren’t you?” I say.

  “What she did to you was wrong.”

  “But I wasn’t in a position to challenge her. The most I might have hoped for was the occasional access to Ciara, and I couldn’t live with that.”

  “So you gave up on everything instead?”

  “I felt like I’d already lost everything anyway.”<
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  “What she did was wrong.”

  “Wrong or not, that’s what happened. I was her mistake and she wanted every trace of that mistake to disappear from her life, so that’s what I did.”

  “Her relationship with Danny Callinan didn’t last.”

  “I know, but from what I can gather her relationship with Ciara has.”

  “She’s got religion, the last I heard.”

  “She always needed something and for a while it was me. If believing in God helps her look after our daughter, then so be it.”

  “And that’s it? You’re never going to try to see your daughter again? You have rights, Brendan.”

  “I have moral rights, but very few practical rights; I signed those away. And don’t tell me I should fight for my rights.”

  “Why wouldn’t I say that? What kind of a person gives up on his own daughter?”

  A person like me is what I think, but I don’t reply.

  “Maybe now’s a good time for me to leave,” Juliette says.

  “You mean before we fall out again? Yes, I think you’re right.”

  She walks back into the house, with that strong, confident stride of hers and I wonder what it must be like to be always so certain, always so sure of yourself that you know what the right thing is to do. Fight this, fight that – take on the world no matter what the odds might be. Can’t she see I’m fucked?

  I watch for her hired car to leave the estate. I’m cold and think I’ll take a bath, but five or so minutes later Juliette surprises me by coming back outside.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m in no position to tell you what you should have done.”