‘Yes.’ She threw back more wine and looked uncomfortable. I wanted to say something helpful and sympathetic, but I couldn’t think of a positive spin to put on being away from Donal and Serge four days out of seven.
‘It’ll be tricky trying to juggle everything,’ I said gently, not wanting to rile her. Lucy had a pretty sharp temper when she was annoyed.
She shrugged. ‘I’ll fly out first thing Monday mornings and fly back on Thursday or Friday evenings – it’s only three or four nights a week. Men do it all the time. It’s really not a big deal.’
The thought of being away from Yuri and Lara four nights a week made me feel ill. I could never do it. But Lucy was different. She was quite masculine in the way she was able to separate work from parenthood. She loved her work and Serge, and she didn’t see why one had to negate the other. When it came to balancing work and spending time with him, her stock response was: ‘If I was a man, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’
She was right, but it was different for most women because they didn’t want to be away from their child all day. Lucy rarely put Serge to bed during the week because she always worked late. To be honest, I think she was struggling with motherhood. It hadn’t come naturally to her. She often complained about how boring it was. But Serge was only two and, like Lara, he had been slow to speak. I knew that when he began to talk properly, and became more of a little companion, Lucy would really fall in love with him. In the meantime, her new job meant that Donal would be left holding the baby. ‘It’s still kind of tough on Donal, being on his own all week. You’d have to see that from his point of view.’
‘He’s got the nanny to help out,’ Lucy snapped. ‘Emma, I know it’s not ideal, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make some real money. I could retire in a few years if it goes well. I can spend lots of time with Serge then. I’m not giving this up. No way.’
I reached out and patted her arm. ‘Hey, I’m on your side and I’m happy for you. I’m just pointing out that you taking the job makes Donal’s life more … complicated. So when you’re breaking the news to him, you should probably acknowledge that.’
Lucy turned to me, her mouth set in a determined line. ‘Donal has a great life, Emma. I pay the mortgage and I organize all the childcare, leaving him free to write his sports column and do his rugby commentating at the weekends. During the week he plays golf and does some volunteer work, teaching inner-city kids to play rugby. Not a lot of men have that kind of luxury. My career is the reason he has the freedom to pick and choose the jobs he wants.’
Again, she had a point, but it wasn’t the whole picture. Donal was lucky in some ways. James certainly didn’t have the freedom his friend enjoyed. Makeup artists didn’t earn much money. I barely made enough to cover childcare, transport and groceries. It was hard for men to have that pressure on their shoulders. Even with all the talk of equality and increasing numbers of women going back to work, the majority of households still relied on the father to bring home the bacon. Most mothers worked part-time because of the horrendous cost of childcare. The onus was generally still very much on the male to be the family provider, but Donal was spared that. Still, though, while Lucy was out working, Donal was putting their son to bed every night on his own. Looking at her defensive stance, I worried about their relationship. It had always been fiery, but what I’d seen of them so far today – the almost palpable tension – made me wonder if there were deep divides between them now.
I tried to put Donal’s side across. ‘I know he has those freedoms, Lucy, but he’s still going to be looking after Serge a lot, so I’m just saying, tread carefully when you’re announcing the new travel details to him.’
Lucy sighed. ‘I will. I keep putting it off because I’m dreading it. I know he’ll go mad. To be honest, Emma, all we seem to do is fight at the moment anyway. Maybe the break will do us good.’ She looked so forlorn that my heart ached for her.
‘Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry. Look, all marriages run into problems now and again. No one is immune.’
‘How are you and James?’
I frowned. ‘I don’t know. We’ve been so busy with the move that we haven’t really talked in months. I’m trying to be positive and so is he, but he’s sick with nerves and I am too. If this job doesn’t work out, I’m worried he won’t get another, and if he does, it’ll be training some crappy team in the arse end of Wales for little or no money. I’m scared.’
Lucy sighed. ‘Life is so much more complicated now, isn’t it? Donal is still at me to have another kid. He keeps telling me to come off the pill. He doesn’t seem to understand how difficult I find having one child. He keeps going on and on about not wanting Serge to grow up on his own.’
‘I see his point. It would be nice for Serge to have a sibling, but a baby is a joint decision.’
Lucy threw her hands into the air. ‘Exactly! That’s what I keep saying, but he just won’t listen. He thinks I’m being selfish, but, Emma,’ Lucy’s voice shook, ‘I know that another baby will push me, and our marriage, over the edge. I mean, you remember how unhappy I was when I was pregnant? It was horrendous. I hated it.’
I remembered all right – it had been the longest nine months I’d ever experienced. Lucy had been irritable and overwhelmed from the moment she’d done the pregnancy test. The problem was, she was so used to managing things impeccably that she’d presumed she could manage a child in the same way she did a business deal. In reality, she hated the lack of control over her body that came with pregnancy, and when Serge was born, he had been a huge baby and she had ended up with internal and external stitches. She’d had to sit on a doughnut cushion for four weeks afterwards because the pain was so severe. I’d never seen her so miserable.
I nodded sympathetically. I knew there was nothing I could say that would convince her another pregnancy, another childbirth, another baby was right for her. Deep down I knew she was right: another child would send her over the edge.
‘Donal’s really good at being a parent – he’s much better than me. He’s so natural with Serge. From the beginning he knew what to do with him. I was so awkward and clueless. I hated being so out of my depth.’
‘All new mums feel that way,’ I told her.
‘Not to the extent I did. Honestly, Emma, the day I went back to work after five weeks at home with Serge was one of the best in my life. I felt in control again. I felt so useless and incapable as a mother, but in work, I was the person everyone came to for advice. I knew who I was in the office. At home I was just an idiot.’
‘But, Lucy, the more time you spend with your baby, the better you get to know them and the better you are at being a mother. It’s like any other job – you need to put in the hours to learn how to do it right.’
Lucy sighed again. ‘I don’t enjoy it. I know it’s a terrible thing to admit, but I don’t. I love Serge, but I don’t feel that I have to be with him all the time, and when I’m in work, to be honest, I rarely think about him. I find the weekends torturous. Wheeling a buggy around a park and sitting in cold, damp sandpits is my idea of hell. I see these other women digging away, making castles with their children, and I admire them. But I don’t want sand in my shoes and all over my clothes. I’m a terrible person. I’m a freak.’
‘No, you’re not,’ I assured her. ‘I hate sandpits too.’
She gave me a weak smile. ‘Yes, but you’re totally into your kids, Emma. I actually went to see a therapist about my lack of mothering instincts.’
‘Really? What did they say?’
‘She told me to stop worrying, that it would come in time. She said some mothers bonded with their children later than others.’
‘Well, there you go. You’ll probably enjoy parenthood more when Serge is older and a bit more engaged with everything.’
Lucy put down her glass. ‘The guilt is killing me. I feel like a bad person. And I keep thinking about my own mother, who showed no interest in me until I was about eight. I’m worried her coldness has rubbed off on me
. I never thought I was like her until I had Serge.’
I was astonished to hear that. She had always consciously distanced herself from her mother and made sure she shared as few attributes as possible with her. Lucy’s mother was a cold, hard woman and a ferocious snob, who had been shocked when her daughter had married Donal. She’d thought a rugby player from a small town in the west of Ireland was beneath clever, beautiful, successful Lucy. Her own husband had been a smooth-talking, charming, sophisticated businessman, who had abandoned his family for a younger woman when Lucy was only two. Lucy’s mother had never got over his betrayal and had spent her life using her large divorce settlement to try to buy her way into the social set she aspired to belong to. She had never, in the almost thirty years I’d known her, looked happy. I’d always pitied her, to be honest.
I took Lucy’s hand. ‘You’re nothing like your mother. You’re kind and loyal and generous, and you don’t care how big people’s bank accounts are or what car they drive. You’re a good person, Lucy, and you’ll be a great mum. Stop beating yourself up.’
Lucy squeezed my hand and took another sip of wine.
‘Muuuuuuummy!’ Lara screeched.
‘What?’ I looked over to the paddling pool.
‘Serge won’t give me back my Barbie. He’s not a good sharer.’
‘Sharing is caring.’ Yuri wagged his finger at Serge.
Lucy called, ‘Serge, give Lara back her doll. Good boy.’
Serge clung to Barbie and shook his head.
‘What’s all this about Barbie?’ Donal came out onto the patio, followed by James.
‘Give me back my Barbie.’ Lara pulled at Barbie’s legs, but Serge had a vice-like grip on the doll’s hair.
Donal went over to the children. ‘Sorry, Lara, pet. Poor old Serge isn’t used to sharing. That’s what happens when you’re an only child.’
Lucy glared at him.
‘It’s fine.’ I walked over to Lara. ‘Serge is our guest and we share when friends come to play. Now stop all that shouting and play with one of your other ten dolls.’
‘No! I want to play with Disco Barbie cos her sparkly dress is the bestest.’
‘Spa’ky ’ess,’ Serge repeated, pointing to the dress.
‘What do you want to be playing with this for anyway?’ Donal said, looking at Barbie in her micro-mini silver dress. ‘Come here and play with some trucks. Barbies are what little sisters play with, not big boys like you. If you have a little sister, she’d have Barbies. Would you like a sister?’
I had been willing to back up Donal’s point of view with Lucy, but this was ridiculous. Using Serge to push his point across and make Lucy squirm was pathetic. It wasn’t fair on Serge or Lucy. I could see the tension in her body. She had drawn up her knees to her chest and her mouth was a tight line of resentment. If this was Donal’s idea of persuasion, he had already lost the argument.
Serge refused point-blank to let go of the doll, so I decided to distract them all with treats. I knew the offer of chocolate would make Lara forget about Barbie, sparkly dress or not.
As the children gobbled chocolate buttons, I kept up a steady flow of chit-chat, trying to keep things on an even keel. I glanced at my watch – two hours to bedtime: then we could put all the kids down and catch up properly. We just had to steer clear of contentious subjects – of which there were so many – and focus on having a laugh together, like old times.
The children were in bed, Serge tucked up on a mattress in Yuri’s room. James fired up the barbecue to cook some burgers and chicken breasts, with Donal on table-setting duty. I opened another bottle of wine and Lucy and I had made some salads. We sat outside under the stars. It was one of those balmy nights when you could pretend you lived somewhere exotic. We’d found our groove again, talking and laughing together easily. James was the most relaxed I’d seen him in months. Donal was good for him – he understood James’s job, knew the pressure he was under and, best of all, how to make him laugh.
It was when we had finished our meal and were kicking back over coffee that James asked Lucy how her interview had gone.
‘Really well, thanks,’ she said.
‘What was it for? Some big new job? Emma was hazy on the details.’
‘Yeah, it was for a very big job actually,’ Lucy replied. I could see Donal tensing. ‘I’m joining a start-up company. We’re going to be leasing aircraft. I’ll actually be over here quite a bit as our head office will be in London.’
So that was how she was going to break it to Donal. I resisted the urge to drop my head onto the table and groan. I couldn’t believe she was dumping this on him in front of us.
‘Sounds fantastic – congratulations!’ James said, holding up his glass to her.
Donal put his coffee cup down with a thud. ‘I thought you were still thinking about it,’ he said, glaring at Lucy.
‘No. I told you I was going to take it. I just needed to iron out the final details, which I did today. We signed this afternoon. I start next week.’
‘It does sound like a great opportunity,’ I noted.
Lucy leant back in her chair. ‘It’s an amazing opportunity and it could set us up for life. The earning potential is huge. The only slight downside is that I’ll be based in London from Monday to Thursday … sometimes until Friday.’
Donal stared at her, stunned. ‘What? You’ll be away all week! That’s a “slight downside”?’
Lucy looked nervous, but determined. ‘I’ll only be gone three or four nights.’
There was a long silence, and when Donal spoke again, his voice had a hard edge to it. ‘So, you’re telling me you’ve just taken a job that means you’ll be essentially living in a different country, away from your husband and child, five days a week, and somehow you didn’t think it was necessary to ask my opinion before accepting it?’
James looked at me, wide-eyed. I wanted the floor to swallow us both. We should not have been in the middle of this. This conversation was private. It was between Lucy and Donal. Why the hell had Lucy landed this bombshell on Donal in front of us? It wasn’t fair. We didn’t know where to look. I tried desperately to think of some way of breaking the tension, but there was nothing I could say. I looked down at my hands and held my breath.
‘You knew it would involve travel. I told you that.’ Lucy was like a steam roller. Nothing was going to stop her now.
‘Travel, yes, not bloody emigration,’ Donal hissed. I could see that his fists were clenched hard, as if he was controlling the urge to lash out.
‘It’s not for ever. In a couple of years’ time I hope to have earned enough money for us never to have to worry again.’
‘I’m not worried now,’ Donal snapped.
‘I want Serge to go to the best schools and have the best of everything.’
‘For what? He doesn’t need any of that. He needs his mother to be present, not living in a different country.’
Lucy slapped her chair in frustration. ‘I’m not commuting to New Zealand. I’ll be spending three or four nights away each week. That’s all. Lots of people do it.’
‘And what? I’ll just obediently pick up the pieces as usual, is that it?’ Donal growled.
Lucy’s eyes flashed. ‘No, Donal, you won’t. I’ve asked Teresa to stay until seven o’clock the nights I’m away. I told her to feed and bathe Serge, so all you have to do is put him to bed. It’s all organized. And I’ve asked Janice to babysit every Wednesday night so you can go out with your friends for a pint or a movie.’
‘I see. So Teresa and Janice knew about the job before I did. Is there anyone you didn’t tell?’
‘Come on, Donal, you knew I was going to take it.’
‘Of course I did. But you never mentioned that you were moving to London in the process.’
‘Don’t make a big deal about it.’
Donal shoved his chair back and stood up abruptly. I felt James tense beside me, as if he feared he might have to intervene physically. I didn’t blame him:
the air was so charged with emotion, it felt like this could turn really nasty.
Donal’s face was hard with anger. ‘I’m sorry, am I not being reasonable? Not being fair? Am I supposed to be delighted that you’re abandoning your family? Well, Lucy, I hope you’ll be very happy, because this job is all about you. Neither I nor Serge want or care about money. What we want is for you to be living with us, not in London making tons of cash that we don’t need. I hope you’re happy with your decision because I can tell you right now that I’m not and I don’t see that changing.’
Lucy jumped up and poked him in the chest. ‘Give it a rest, Donal. Stop playing the bloody martyr. Lots of men would love to be in your position, with a wife who earns a big salary so they can do what they want.’
Donal grabbed her hand and pushed it away from him, but Lucy was tipsy so she lost her balance and fell over. James caught her and helped her back into her chair. ‘Come on, guys! You both need to calm down.’ He was angry now. ‘You can sort this out.’
‘Really, James?’ Donal turned to him. ‘Would you be thrilled if Emma here decided to take a job that took her away all week?’
‘Well, I …’ James hesitated.
‘Be gentle,’ I whispered to Lucy. ‘He’s really upset. Go easy.’
Lucy reached out towards her husband. ‘Come on, Donal, I’ll be back every weekend to cover for you when you’re commentating on TV and we’ll still have a family day on Sunday. Please don’t make it into a big deal. If you were offered an amazing job commentating on Sky Sports Monday to Friday in London, I’d be happy for you. I’d encourage you to take it. I’d work around it without making you feel like crap. Why can’t you be supportive of me?’
Donal bent down, putting his face close to hers. ‘The difference between us is that I’d never take the job. I’d never leave my family because it’s the most important thing in my life, not my career.’
A deafening silence ensued. I couldn’t think of anything soothing or comforting to say. They were both right and they were both wrong. Lucy did pay the mortgage and look after Serge on Saturday while Donal worked. But I felt sorry for Donal because, no matter which way you cut it, it was going to be tough on him being left all week with a little boy who would be missing his mother.
Mad About You Page 6
