Aisling Gayle

by Geraldine O'Neill

  “Well,” Jacinta said, getting out of the bed to stand in front of Aisling, “I think I have some news that might shock you. I’m going to have Oliver’s baby – and that means that he’ll have to take responsibility for us both.”

  There was a little pause. “And how,” Aisling asked in a calm voice, “does Oliver feel about all this?”

  “Actually,” Jacinta said, “Oliver doesn’t know yet . . . but he soon will.”

  Then a male voice came from the ward doorway. “What will I soon know, Jacinta?”

  And there, framed in the doorway, stood Oliver himself. He came in the room to stand facing the two women – his face chalk-white and with a thunderous look on it.

  “I’ve just been telling your wife all about us, Oliver,” Jacinta said, as though she were discussing the weather, “about our affair.”

  Two little pulses on either side of Oliver’s forehead began to visibly throb. “Have you now?” he said quietly. “Well, I hope you told her that it finished some time ago, and that you’ve been trying to blackmail me since with all this attempted suicide crap?”

  Aisling caught her breath. Attempted suicides? Pregnancy? What else was to come today? What more could possibly happen?

  Jacinta’s face crumpled and tears started to spill down her pretty cheeks. “How can you say that to me?” she said in a choked voice. “You told me that you would leave her, when she came back from America – and now you’ve chickened out! You fucking coward!”

  Oliver shook his head, unperturbed by her outburst. “I only said that to pacify you, because of your threatening suicide!”

  Jacinta’s eyes darted from Oliver to Aisling. “Did he tell you about this?” she said, holding up her wrists “I nearly died! I could have bled to death – and all because of him” She tapped the side of her head. “He’s got me so mixed up in here, I can’t think straight any more.” Her voice took on a higher pitch. “And what about my nursing career? It could be all over after this . . . and it’s all your fault!”

  “Look, Jacinta,” Oliver hissed, “Aisling and I have had our problems . . . but we’re sorting them out.” He turned to Aisling. “Aren’t we, Aisling?” When she didn’t respond, he kept on talking. “We’re going to Marriage Guidance, and this time next year we could be adopting a child.”

  “There’s no need to do that, Oliver,” Jacinta said quietly, “because you’re going to have one of your own.” Then, as his eyes were wide with shock, she said, “I was just telling Aisling all about it when you came in. I found out today that I’m pregnant.”

  Oliver rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t mind a word of what she says, Aisling . . . she’s mad! She’s making up every word of this, just to split us up.”

  Aisling looked at him now. “After what I’ve just heard – I think that might be the one sensible thing left to do.” She stood up now, and made towards the door.

  “No, Aisling,” Oliver said, grabbing at her arm. He followed her out into the corridor. “You don’t understand – we can work it out. I’m sorry about all this – but I promise you sincerely that it won’t happen again. Things will be the best they’ve ever been, if you’ll just give me another chance.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I can prove she’s lying – so don’t mind what that eedjit says.”

  “I think,” Aisling said, attempting a smile, “that you’ve had quite enough chances. Don’t you?” Her voice was steady and cool.

  He stepped back, and looked at her now. “But where will you go?” he asked, a note of confidence in his tone. “You can’t go to the American fellow now – his wife is back living with him.”

  “What do you mean?” Aisling’s words were slow and measured.

  “The letter,” he said, “the one you tore up in the sitting-room. I read it.” His hand came up to touch the side of her cheek. “Please, Aisling,” he pleaded, “we’ve both made stupid mistakes, but we can learn from them.”

  Aisling looked at him. Somewhere at the back of her mind she knew she should feel embarrassment, shock – something about Oliver finding Verity’s letter. But she felt nothing. Apart from a numbness and a vague empty feeling.

  All these things that had happened in one day. Things that should be shaking her to the core, and still she was standing. Standing facing Oliver now.

  “Please, Aisling,” Oliver repeated. “I’ve been doing so much thinking about everything recently, and I know that all I want is us to stay together – forever. It’s what your mother – your whole family – would want. And it’s what the Church tells us that we should do. Maybe if we both started all over again . . . following the right things, then we would get it right ourselves.”

  “If you had been faithful to me, Oliver,” Aisling whispered, “then none of this would have happened. I would never have gone to America without you if things had been fine between us.”

  Oliver’s face dropped. “I’ve said how sorry I am . . . what more can I do?”

  There was a silence. Then, hearing Jacinta’s furry mules tapping across the ward floor they turned towards her.

  “What about our baby, Oliver?” she asked, coming to stand in front of them, hand on hips.

  Oliver sighed loudly and threw her a contemptuous look. “Ignore her, Aisling. There’s no way she can be pregnant – I know it for a fact.”

  “I am!” Jacinta screeched. “I’m a whole week late – and that’s never happened before.”

  Oliver lowered his head so that he was looking directly into the girl’s face. “Shut up! You stupid, stupid girl,” he hissed. “Stop all this silly nonsense! There’s not a chance in a million that you’re expecting – not unless it’s the Immaculate Conception all over again!”

  “What d’you mean?” Jacinta whined.

  “I mean that it’s not possible for me to get anyone in the family way,” Oliver said angrily. “I had a little operation done a few years ago – to make sure this sort of thing couldn’t happen.”

  Aisling looked at him in bewilderment. “What did you just say, Oliver?”

  “I had a sterilisation operation – a vasectomy – done over in England a couple of years ago – when I was going back and forward on business,” he told her. Then, when he saw the horror spread on her face, he rushed on. “It was when things were desperate between us – and I had this situation,” He threw a dismissive hand in Jacinta’s direction, “happen before. Another silly girl trying to pin something on me – so I decided to sort it out. It was something I did on the spur of the moment –”

  “How could you?” Aisling gasped. “You let me think it was all my fault . . .”

  “I don’t know what made me do it . . .” Oliver’s voice trailed off weakly. “It was this fellow I knew who’d just had it done . . . and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Later, I realised what an eedjit I was . . .” Then, Oliver suddenly saw something in Aisling’s eyes that made him take a step backwards. “I’m sorry, Aisling . . . honest to God, I am. If we get accepted for adopting, maybe it would make up for all this . . .”

  “The only thing that you’re sorry about,” Aisling said quietly, “is that you’ve been found out once again.” She inched closer to him. “Or are you sorry that I’ve found out that our whole marriage has been a sham? A lie? All those years believing that we couldn’t have children because of me. Feeling that I was a failure . . .” Her unspoken words hung in the air.

  Oliver just stood there, totally bereft of a soothing word for once.

  And as Aisling looked at him, she saw for the very first time what a shallow, weak man he was. And she knew now that she was finished with him. Whatever happened now, and whatever her mother or anyone else had to say – she was finished with him.

  “I want you to know now, Oliver, that I’ll never forgive you. Never! Our marriage is dead and gone.” She managed a smile. A small, bitter smile. “It doesn’t matter about having someone else to go to. I’d be much better on my own, or even back at my parents’ house than living a lie with you.�
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  She threw a glance over at Jacinta, who was sitting on her bed, snivelling into a hanky. “If you still want him – you’re welcome to him. I’d say you both deserve each other. A pair of liars like you two belong together. And you’d be so busy thinking of yourselves, that you wouldn’t have time for a child in any case.”

  And then, without a backward glance, Aisling Gayle marched straight down the hospital corridor. Out of the hospital. And out of Oliver Gayle’s life.

  Chapter 43

  “Phone for you, Pauline,” Charles called from the hallway into the kitchen.

  Pauline dropped the roasting pan she was washing into the soapy water in the sink, and quickly dried her hands. Jack was calling earlier than she expected. He’d said he’d give a ring after seven, and it wasn’t even six o’clock yet. “Go on through into the shop, Bernadette,” she told her daughter, who was making a bed up for her doll on Declan’s rocking-chair, “and ask Peenie for a sweetie. Say your mammy said you could have one.”

  She smiled as the little girl trotted off down the hallway towards the connecting shop door, and then she went to pick the receiver up.

  “Pauline? It’s me . . . is there anyone else around that might be listening?” her sister’s voice said.

  “Aisling?” Pauline said, her voice high with surprise. “No, there’s no one else around. Charles and Peenie are through in the shop and Mammy and Daddy have gone off shopping to Tullamore. Is there something wrong?”

  There was a little pause. “Well . . . I suppose you could say that.” She halted. “I don’t know where to start . . . but I had to talk to somebody.”

  “What is it?” Pauline said, feeling a cold shiver coming over her. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s Oliver,” Aisling said, her voice trembling. “I’ve just discovered . . . that he’s been sterilised and didn’t tell me.”

  Pauline groped to feel for the wall behind her, and leaned up against it. “I don’t believe it . . . surely Oliver wouldn’t do such a terrible thing?”

  “That’s exactly what he did,” Aisling said. “And he kept it a secret until now.”

  “How did you find out?” Pauline asked in a low voice.

  “He told me this evening,” Aisling said, “when a girl accused him of being the father of her baby.”

  Pauline’s hand flew to her mouth, and she shook her head silently.

  Aisling halted for a moment, trying to piece all the events in the right order. “This girl from his drama group – Jacinta – rang the house and got me to go into the hospital with some things from the chemist. It was all an excuse just to get me there to tell me about her and Oliver and their supposed baby.”

  Pauline’s legs suddenly went all weak. “What happened then?”

  “Oliver turned up,” Aisling said, “and the whole thing came out when Jacinta accused him of making her pregnant.”

  “Oh, my God, Aisling!” Pauline said. “You know I’ve always thought a lot of him – but Oliver’s a rotten bastard for doing this to you! There’s no other way of saying it – he’s an absolute rotten, lying bastard!” Pauline felt really weak now, and wished there was a chair by the phone. Maggie wouldn’t have one beside it, as she said it only encouraged people to waste more time and money talking nonsense. “What did you say when he told you?” Pauline whispered, utterly shocked. “And what did you do?”

  Aisling sighed. “What was there to say? Didn’t it only confirm what I knew all along? How many times have I told you and Carmel about his carrying on?”

  “I know, I know,” Pauline said, “but finding it out like this must be terrible . . .”

  “Yes,” Aisling said, her voice falling flat now. “I’d be a liar if I denied it. The sterilisation thing was the worst – and him letting me go back and forward to the doctor for tests and everything, and then being told that it looked as though I had fertility problems.” She gave a weary sigh. “Between the two of us, there wasn’t a hope in hell of me ever becoming pregnant.”

  “Are you OK?” Pauline said gently. “Do you want me to come over? I could ring Carmel if you like, and we could both come over . . .”

  Aisling thought for a few moments. “I’ll leave it for tonight if you don’t mind,” she said. “I’m completely washed out . . . and anyway, Oliver will probably land back any minute, and I’d say there will be a bit of carry-on because he’s still trying to persuade me that we could make a go of it.”

  “Have you definitely made up your mind?” Pauline asked quietly.

  “Definitely,” Aisling confirmed. “There’s nothing would make me take him back after this – nothing. If I’d had any kind of guts, I should be gone long, long ago.”

  “What about the American?” Pauline asked. “If you’re sure about Oliver, maybe you could go back to America. There’s nothing to stop you now.”

  “That’s another story,” Aisling said, her throat suddenly tightening. “Another disaster I just found out about today. I got a letter today from Jameson’s wife . . . and it would seem she’s back up at the house. It would seem they’re all back living together quite happily.”

  “Oh, my God!” Pauline said again. Then, after a moment’s thought, she said, “I wouldn’t be inclined to believe her, Aisling. Maybe she’s made it all up – she could easily have written that letter to put you off, and he mightn’t know a thing about it. The whole thing could be a pack of lies.”

  “I thought that, too,” Aisling said quietly, “but I checked it out with Jean this afternoon . . . and it’s true. Verity called over to see Jean and she more or less told her what had happened. She said how Thomas’s accident had brought everyone closer.”

  “I still wouldn’t be so quick to believe that one – she sounds a right bitch.”

  “She is,” Aisling replied dully. “A first-class bitch.”

  “Why don’t you phone Jameson, and find out for yourself?” Pauline suggested.

  “There’s no point,” Aisling said. “It’s all too late. I should have stayed in America when I had the chance. I’ve no one to blame but myself. It’s all my own fault.”

  * * *

  There were a few of the usual last-minute customers in the shop when Pauline went through to collect Bernadette, so she stopped to give the two lads a hand. Weighing out cooking apples and carrots and wrapping them up in newspaper was a whole lot easier than dealing with the terrible thoughts that were racing around in her head.

  “Thanks, Pauline,” Peenie said, giving her a wink as she passed the fruit and vegetables over to him. He turned to his elderly customer. “Doesn’t she brighten the place up no end, Mr Murphy? Wouldn’t you pay just to stand and look at her?”

  “Go away with you!” Pauline said, giving him a friendly push. She turned to the customer. “And don’t mind a word that fella says – I know well the minute I turn my back he’ll be calling me.”

  “I wouldn’t say so,” Mr Murphy said. “I wouldn’t say so at all. Peenie Walshe would be only too delighted at yeh turnin’ yer back on him. He’d be delighted at the lovely view he’d get with you in them nice, tight trousers.”

  “Now, now,” Peenie said to the man, in a serious tone. “That’s a bit too near the bone, so it is.” He gave Pauline another of his famed winks. “If Mrs Kearney was to appear and hear that kind of talk, we’d all be in a heap of trouble. A whole heap of trouble”

  “Ah, sure, we’re only codding the girl,” said Mr Murphy, putting his purchases into his battered old shopping-bag. “And doesn’t Pauline know that well? An’ all the years we’ve been comin’ in and out of the shop. She knows well that we’re only coddin’.”

  “True for yeh, Mr Murphy,” Peenie said, grinning. “Sure it’s only a bit of coddology. It’s a bad day when yeh can’t have a bit of the oul’ banter without somebody takin’ offence.”

  “Well,” said Pauline, wrapping up a block of cheese in muslin, “if there was more work being done around here, there would be less time for all the codding. There’s the
m that are customers and entitled to be messing around, and there’s them that should be doing a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. Isn’t that right, Mr Murphy?”

  The old man roared with laughter and then, just as Peenie went to come back with an even better line, the shop door opened and in walked Oliver Gayle.

  * * *

  “I hope you don’t mind me coming out like this, Pauline,” Oliver said, as they pulled away from the shop in the car, “but I had no one else to turn to. I’m almost demented. I don’t know how all this has come about . . . I feel as though the roof has fallen in on top of me.”

  Pauline turned to check that Bernadette was all right in the back of the car. The curly-headed child was kneeling up, quite happily looking out of the back window, oblivious to the tension between the two adults as they drove through the town of Tullamore, and then out the Charleville Road towards Birr.

  “I know about everything, Oliver,” Pauline said in a low, voice. “Aisling phoned me a short while ago . . .”

  Oliver sucked his breath in hard. “The carry-on with the girl from the drama group meant nothing – it was just a bit of harmless nonsense. I’d no idea she was one of those hysterical types – bad with her nerves.”

  “And the sterilisation business?” Pauline asked. “Was that just a bit of harmless nonsense, too?”

  Oliver groaned. “No,” he said, staring straight at the road ahead. “That was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made in my life. I got that one completely wrong.”

  Pauline swept her long, dark hair back from her face. “You’re very good at making mistakes, Oliver. And the worst thing is – you don’t seem to learn from them.”

  “Pauline,” Oliver said, “please give me a break.” He swallowed hard a few times, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing up and down over the neck of his shirt. “I thought you at least would understand . . . that you would know that at times life was difficult with Aisling. That at times we weren’t the most suited couple in the world.” He paused. “She’s not like you – she can be very deep and serious – and you know I need a bit of a laugh and a joke. It’s in my nature, it’s just the way I’m made – but deep down I do love her, and I wanted us to make a go of things again.”