He's Got to Go

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  It might be different next week, she thought, as she switched on the oven. By then maybe we’ll stop being extra polite to each other and get back to normal. Whatever normal really is.

  She sprinkled herbs onto the chicken breast and sighed deeply. How was it that even though she believed him, she couldn’t get the picture of him kissing this woman out of her mind? Nor could she quite get Bree’s misgivings out of her mind either. But Bree didn’t know Adam. Bree was looking at things the wrong way around.

  All the same, she thought, as she slid the oiled and seasoned chicken into the oven, maybe she should talk to Bree again. She hadn’t spoken to her sister since their conversation on Tuesday morning when she’d told her not to follow Adam anymore. She’d half expected Bree to call at some point during the week but of course Bree had gone back to work and perhaps she’d been both too busy and too tired to call. I’ll phone her later, Nessa decided, maybe both her and Cate would like to come over for something to eat next week. She’d have to talk to Cate about her eating habits. Now that she was pregnant she couldn’t get away with nibbling on a celery stick and pushing food around her plate. She’d have to take more care of herself. Especially since she didn’t have anyone to look after her. That bastard Finn! He could’ve been more understanding.

  Thinking of Finn suddenly reminded Nessa of his TV show. Tonight was his big night, she remembered. Finn Coolidge, the voice of a nation. She wondered whether he’d do any programs on unmarried mothers. If he did, she’d ring up the station and complain.

  The TV show started at nine o’clock. Bree hadn’t said anything to Cate about it, unsure as to whether or not her sister would want to watch. But Cate said that she did—if half of the country was watching him, she’d watch him too.

  “Have you told them in work yet?” asked Bree.

  Cate shrugged. “Nobody even noticed that I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring until yesterday,” she said. “Then Glenda spotted it and so I told her that we’d changed our minds. She was afraid to ask for details and I didn’t give her any.”

  “I bet that put the cat among the pigeons all the same,” said Bree.

  “Oh, the news is all over the company by now,” agreed Cate. “People give me strange but sympathetic looks every time I walk by. Although Ian Hewitt hasn’t said anything to me yet.”

  “And have you told them about the baby?”

  Cate squirmed in her seat. “No. I was going to but I just couldn’t.”

  “Well, if the news about your engagement went around like wild-fire I can only guess what the news about your pregnancy will do!”

  “I’ve done it all the wrong way around, haven’t I?” asked Cate wryly. “I’ve messed it up so much.”

  “Listen, Catey, none of us get it right all the time,” Bree told her. “Not even you.”

  The intro music to the show silenced them and Cate watched the screen while fragmented images of Finn filled the screen. Her heart thudded in her chest. It hardly seemed believable that this was the same Finn who’d clattered around the apartment every morning. The Finn who’d once held her in his arms and told her that he loved her. The Finn who’d packed her bags and told her to leave.

  Then the show started and Finn strode into the studio to prolonged applause from the audience. He was right about the TV adding pounds, she thought, he looked a little heavier than usual although impeccably dressed in an olive green suit and casual top. Striking a chord, Cate decided, between being serious and fun. The clothes were all new. She’d never seen those shoes before either. Just as well she’d moved out. There wouldn’t be room for both of their stuff in the wardrobe.

  He was welcoming the audience now, setting out his objectives for the show, telling them that he wanted it to be a blend of issues that would interest people, provoke them, maybe change their minds about things. Not wild and wacky, he told them apologetically. He was far too old for wild and wacky. The audience laughed. With him, Cate realized. He had them now and they wanted him to succeed.

  His first guest was a classical singer who’d battled with alcoholism. She was a pretty, chestnut-haired girl with an extraordinary voice who didn’t look old enough to have graduated beyond fizzy lemonade. But, according to Finn, she used to knock back a bottle of vodka a day.

  “Oh and more,” she agreed when he asked her about it. “I didn’t see anything wrong with it at the time.”

  He presented her case sympathetically but without the patronizing tone that so many other hosts adopted when they talked to anyone who’d had problems with addiction. He talked to her as though they were chatting informally together, as though neither the audience nor the viewers at home even existed. And it seemed to everyone watching that Finn and the singer were simply good friends exchanging stories.

  Afterward she sang for them and as the camera panned the audience when she finished, their appreciation and support for her was quite clear.

  “Christ, she’s good,” said Bree. “And he’s turned her into an icon!”

  Cate’s smile wobbled but she nodded her agreement.

  Another section of the program had Finn out and about interviewing people about their jobs. For this edition he’d visited a community project in Christchurch. Cate’s heart lurched to think that he’d been interviewing people in the area where she would soon live. Maybe he’d been there on Monday night when she’d signed the lease. She nibbled at her fingernail and broke it. Once again, Finn’s technique was chatty and interested and people responded easily to him.

  The show was going to be a success. The camera loved Finn and he loved the camera. He wasn’t going to fail. Cate wondered, as she watched, whether there’d been even a small part of her that hoped he might fail but she didn’t think so. She wanted him to do well. She wanted his dream to come true.

  “Bloody good,” said Bree when the final credits rolled. “You might not want to think it, Catey, but he’s a natural.”

  “I know,” she said. “I always knew. And I’m glad for him.”

  “You could blackmail him,” said Bree thoughtfully. “You know, say that you’ll go to the tabloids with your story of his love child.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Cate. “You know I wouldn’t.”

  “I know,” said Bree. “But you have the power, Cate, to totally scupper his career.”

  Cate looked at her sister thoughtfully. “I suppose I do.”

  “And nobody would blame you.”

  “They would,” she said. “After all, he only has to say that I was thinking about an abortion and half of Ireland would have me demonized as a murdering bitch.”

  “Half of Ireland doesn’t know you like I do,” said Bree. “You’re actually a softie at heart.”

  Cate grinned wryly. “You think so?”

  Bree’s mobile phone rang and she picked it up.

  “It’s me,” said Nessa.

  “I know it’s you,” said Bree. “Your name comes up every time you ring.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  Bree waited for Nessa to say what she had to say. She didn’t feel comfortable talking to her sister while she was hiding the knowledge that Adam was a lying, cheating bastard from her. She’d thought about ringing her every day but hadn’t been able to pluck up the courage to tell her. And to admit that she’d followed Adam despite Nessa’s very strict instructions not to do so.

  “Did you watch Finn’s show?” asked Nessa.

  “Yes,” replied Bree.

  “He was good, wasn’t he?”

  “Very.”

  “Did Cate watch it?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “What did she think?”

  “That he was good too.”

  “Does she still love him?” asked Nessa.

  “I don’t know,” said Bree.

  “Adam thinks he’s a fool,” said Nessa.

  “Adam does?” Bree’s voice was a squeak. “You told Adam about Cate and Finn?”

  “Well, sure,” Nessa said. “How could I not? He
says that Cate was as good a catch for Finn as he was for her. And that the baby could only enhance Finn’s career.”

  “He would,” said Bree shortly.

  “He’s right, though, isn’t he? They loved Finn tonight. They’d love him even more if he was married with a kid.”

  “And still more if they discovered that he’d thrown out his fiancée because she was pregnant?” Bree raised her eyebrow at Cate who was listening to the conversation.

  “I didn’t think of that,” said Nessa. “Actually, it’s strange that nothing about their break-up has appeared in the papers. You’d imagine it’d be all over them by now.”

  “Somebody will start digging the dirt soon,” agreed Bree.

  “I’ll just say no comment if they ask me anything,” said Nessa.

  “Don’t be so bloody silly, Ness, nobody’s going to be asking you anything!”

  “If they do,” repeated Nessa.

  “Did you want to talk to Cate?” asked Bree.

  “Is she there?”

  “Of course she’s here.”

  Bree handed her phone to Cate who told Nessa that, yes, Finn had been great and no, she hadn’t been to the doctor yet, and yes, he was a right swine and no, she didn’t hate him. And no way was she talking to anyone in the tabloids about their break-up. Fortunately, she told Nessa, most of the articles about Finn had been pre-publicity for the show so she wasn’t expecting too many of them afterward.

  “You haven’t told her about Adam?” Cate looked questioningly at Bree as she finally ended the call from Nessa.

  Bree shook her head. “I haven’t had the nerve,” she said.

  “I’ll tell her,” said Cate firmly. “She needs to get a grip on reality.”

  “Never her strongest point,” Bree agreed.

  Cate’s mobile rang and shuddered across the table as it vibrated. She caught it just before it fell onto the floor. She looked at the caller ID and took a deep breath before she answered.

  “Hi Mum,” she said. “Yes, he was good wasn’t he? Look, before you say anything else, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  Miriam listened while Cate told her about her pregnancy and told her simply that she’d split up with Finn.

  “But why?” Miriam was stunned. “I thought you and Finn loved each other. Surely a child should bring you closer together not drive you apart.”

  “There were reasons,” said Cate abruptly. “He wasn’t ready.”

  “And are you?” Miriam could hear the tension in Cate’s voice. “It was never your priority, was it?”

  “No,” said Cate. “But I’ve got used to the idea.”

  “What are you going to do?” Miriam kept her tone as practical as she could. She didn’t want Cate to hear how shocked she was that her middle daughter’s life had suddenly unraveled at the seams. She didn’t want Cate to worry about her reaction, although she knew that Cate had probably worried about it a lot. She knew that no girl, not even a successful, career girl like Cate, ever wants to have to tell her mother that she’s pregnant and that the father of the child isn’t going to be in the picture.

  “I’m staying with Bree for a while,” said Cate.

  “Bree!” This time Miriam couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

  “For the moment,” Cate repeated. “I’m getting a place of my own. And I’ll be fine.”

  “Would you like to come here for a few days?” asked Miriam. “Get away from it all?”

  In some ways, thought Cate, it would be lovely to go to Galway and simply chill out. But she wasn’t ready for her mother’s more probing questions yet. She knew that if she went to Galway she’d end up spilling her guts to Miriam about almost having the abortion and that being part of Finn’s reasons for throwing her out and she definitely wasn’t ready to tell Miriam that.

  “Maybe in a while,” said Cate. “Right now I just want to get my head around things.”

  “He’ll provide for the baby of course?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be more than generous.” Cate absolutely couldn’t tell Miriam that Finn had doubts that he was the father.

  “Cate, you know I love you,” said Miriam. “I want to be there and put my arms around you and tell you not to worry. Everything will be OK.”

  “I know,” whispered Cate.

  “I wish it hadn’t happened,” said Miriam. “But these things do. And I like the idea of another grandchild.”

  “Thanks, Mum.” Cate’s voice trembled. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

  “You haven’t let me down,” said Miriam firmly. “Promise you’ll visit us, Catey.”

  “I promise,” said Cate.

  “Look after yourself,” Miriam said. “Eat decent food.”

  “I’ll try,” said Cate.

  She ended the call and put the phone back on the table. Bree looked at her inquiringly.

  “Mum’s being really good about it.” Cate sniffed. “I dreaded telling her because I thought she’d take it badly but she’s doing her best to sound supportive.”

  “That’s because she is supportive,” said Bree firmly. “Just like Nessa and I are supportive. Look at it this way,” she added cheerfully. “In sixteen years time when the kid comes home with a pierced belly button or something much worse and you’re ready to flip your lid, you can remember today and how understanding Mum was!”

  “A pierced belly button will be the least of my problems as a mother.” Cate sighed deeply.

  “Not at all!” Nessa hugged her. “You’ll be a wonderful mum. You really will.”

  “If only I believed you,” said Cate.

  Bree had just finished a delivery check on a Brava the following Monday when Christy stopped beside her.

  “You haven’t forgotten that you’re supposed to take a week off before the end of September, have you?”

  She looked at him, startled. “I thought it was October.”

  “No,” said Christy. “September.”

  “But I’ve only just come back from sick leave,” Bree told him. “I can hardly head off again.”

  “You have a statutory entitlement to your holidays,” said Christy. “You’ve got to take them.”

  “Oh.”

  “So let me know as soon as possible, will you? I want to make sure we have adequate cover.”

  Bree nodded as she ticked off the checklist. She hadn’t even thought about holidays this year. The last thing she wanted right now was time off, it had been bad enough being out of work because of her injuries. She could go away for a week, she supposed, although her finances were in a somewhat precarious state. But maybe getting away would be good for her. Or she could use the time to do a bit of investigation regarding the States. She thought she could get a job easily enough but she wasn’t sure whether or not she could actually get a green card. She scratched her head with her Biro. Maybe a week’s holiday would be a better bet. She could recharge her batteries—despite her enforced layoff she felt unusually tired all the time. And she was finding it difficult to concentrate. That might be because of Declan Morrissey. She leaned hard on the pad as she signed her name and moved to another car.

  Sometimes she thought that she’d imagined his visit to her flat and his stumbling declaration of—well, what, exactly? Interest? And sometimes, when she closed her eyes and remembered, it was as though he was right beside her. She’d liked him so much as Michael’s father. Maybe if he hadn’t been Michael’s father then things could have been different. If he hadn’t been twenty odd years older than her, things could have been different too. And there was the question of the protective daughters to think about. Bree didn’t think that Marta was overly fond of her—and that was with Marta knowing her as Michael’s girlfriend. She’d surely freak out completely at the idea of Bree getting involved with Declan. But, she reminded herself, there was no chance of her getting involved with Declan anyway. Even if there hadn’t been the issue of Michael, he was a man with too much damned baggage. He was a widower with three kids, one of whom
she’d nearly kissed. She couldn’t seriously consider a relationship with him. It simply wasn’t practical. And he really was too old for her. She wasn’t ready to go out with someone nearly twice her age. He was older than Adam Riley, for God’s sake!

  Leaving Ireland would help. Leaving was how she’d dealt with things in the past and was why the States was so appealing now. Leaving would mean that she wouldn’t have to worry about Declan or Michael. Or Cate. Leaving would mean that she wouldn’t have to tell Nessa about Adam’s second woman. But leaving would also mean that she wouldn’t be around to help support Cate through her lone pregnancy. Or at least to provide a buffer between Cate and Nessa who would probably try to interfere in everything to do with Cate and the baby and drive poor Cate around the bend. Nor would she be able to be there for Nessa when she eventually accepted that Adam Riley was a lying, cheating bastard. Because one day Nessa would realize that. It was only a matter of time.

  She didn’t have to make a decision on the States yet of course. She could take her week’s holiday and leave Crosbie’s afterward if she wanted to, although she didn’t like the idea of grabbing her time off and leaving them in the lurch when they’d been so good to her.

  Perhaps Nessa would like to come on holidays with her. The thought suddenly struck Bree as she finished another inspection. Maybe they could go away together for a week. It’d give Nessa some time to get her head in order about Adam (and maybe give Bree the opportunity to tell her that he was a lying shit anyway) and it’d give her some time to think about what she wanted to do too. She opened the door of yet another Fiat Bravo and sniffed the new-car smell appreciatively as she slid inside. What if Cate came on holiday too? The three of them could go somewhere nice together and chill out for a week. They’d never done that before. Admittedly it wasn’t something that she imagined she’d enjoy before but why not? They’d all been through a lot over the past couple of months and some time together in a different environment might be a good idea. They could get a cheap flight to Spain or Portugal and spend a pleasant week lying on the beach doing nothing in particular. It’d be good for all of them. She smiled as she remembered a place in Spain that she might be able to rent for a week.