My Mother's Secret

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  ‘He thinks so too.’

  Alivia grinned. ‘Well, he’d want to keep an eye on her so. I’ve seen Uncle Charlie give her a few lascivious glances.’

  ‘Alivia!’

  ‘Oh, it’s a hotbed here today,’ said Alivia happily. ‘Loads of stuff to keep us amused. But I’m sorry you’ve broken up with your absent boyfriend, Steff. You deserve someone nice in your life.’ Her phone buzzed again and she frowned as she read the message.

  ‘What I deserve and what I end up with are two completely different things,’ said Steffie. ‘Anyhow, I’ve my business to think about. That’s far more important.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ Alivia started to type again.

  ‘I don’t see you putting your love life ahead of your career,’ Steffie said.

  ‘Why do you think me and Dermot are keeping things under wraps? Being linked with him right now wouldn’t do me any favours. But you don’t have to worry about being in the spotlight. You can jump on whoever you like.’

  ‘I need to get over my broken heart first.’

  ‘Has the guy who doesn’t even know he’s been dumped yet broken your heart?’ Alivia reread her text before sending it.

  Steffie considered it for a moment. ‘Not as much as I thought,’ she admitted eventually. ‘In fact, I’m sort of happy about it.’

  ‘It takes me ages to get over a break-up,’ said Alivia. ‘I sit at home and watch weepies so that I have an excuse to cry.’

  Steffie laughed.

  ‘Whereas you’re Miss Cool Cookie,’ added Alivia.

  ‘Not today.’ Steffie drained her glass. ‘I’m melting. I have to get more of this. Can I bring one back for you?’

  ‘It’s OK, I’ll get some myself,’ said Alivia. ‘And I’d better do some mingling. That’s what these occasions are all about. Talking to people who tell you what you were like as a five year old and treat you as though you still were. Oh well. Once more unto the breach.’ She stood up, put her phone in her bag, and walked into the crowd.

  ‘Where’s Carl?’ asked Colette. ‘Hasn’t he come with you?’

  ‘You didn’t hear?’ Bernice exhaled sharply. ‘We’re on a break.’

  ‘What! Nobody tells me anything. But that’s not entirely surprising. It’s not like I talk to them that often. But Bernice, I think Carl is here with Mum.’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘And you’ve come too.’

  ‘I was invited.’

  ‘You were?’

  ‘Of course I was. Before Carl and I … The invitation was to both of us. So I came.’

  ‘Are you certain that’s a good idea?’ asked Colette.

  ‘Just because we weren’t married doesn’t mean I haven’t been part of this family for eight years. I think I’ve a right to celebrate with Pascal and Jenny.’ She reached into the car and took out a bottle of Bollinger, tied with a giant ribbon. ‘Besides, we’re only on a break. We’re still a couple. I’m not going to hide away.’

  ‘Fair enough. And if you’re here to show him what he’s missing, you’re doing an outstanding job,’ said Colette. ‘You look stunning.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Bernice smoothed back her flaming-red hair, which she’d styled into a mane of big curls. She didn’t normally do curls, but she’d wanted to look different today. Not only so that Carl would see her and realise that he’d been wrong to say the things he had, but also to show confidence. Because inside, she really wasn’t feeling it.

  ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t have wasted all that glamour on a family party,’ added Colette. ‘If I was in your situation, I would’ve jumped at the chance to stay away.’

  Bernice smiled slightly.

  ‘However, now that you’re here, I guess we could enter the fray together.’

  ‘All for one,’ said Bernice, and linked Colette’s arm.

  Having greeted everyone at the surprise party she’d never wanted, Jenny had retreated to her bedroom for a few moments of calm. But finally on her own again, she realised that she wasn’t feeling as calm as her outward appearance suggested.

  In fact she was in turmoil. The last thing in the world she wanted this weekend was for family and friends to be gathered in Aranbeg congratulating her and Pascal on forty years of married bliss. Why on earth had Roisin decided it was a good idea when she already knew that Jenny hated surprises? Why was it that people who liked making a big deal of things, like Roisin, couldn’t see that not everybody else shared their views? Why did her eldest child always think she knew better? Why was she such a meddler? Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone?

  Damn Roisin, she muttered. Damn her relentless optimism and wanting everyone to have a good time. But even as the thoughts formed in her head, she was reminding herself that Roisin was a loving and caring daughter and that she was lucky to have her.

  But still, she thought, as she reapplied her lipstick with a shaking hand. She’s left me in a very awkward position.

  Chapter 11

  You’d think that someone would notice she was doing it all on her own, thought Roisin, as she added more bottles of wine to the fridge and more ice to the cool box where the beer was being stored. But no, Steffie had spent the last half-hour lounging around under a tree chatting to Alivia, while Davey was busy showing off his glamorous girlfriend to the neighbours. Neither of them had bothered to check on her although they must have known that there’d be things to do. Always me, Roisin muttered to herself. Always having to take charge. Even when I left it to Steffie to set up the table and the veranda, she made a complete mess of it. Why don’t they see what I see? Why do they think that a job half done is good enough? That’s why Steffie’s career is in the doldrums, she thought. And why Davey still hasn’t made a commitment to a decent woman. She wasn’t entirely convinced that Camilla was the woman for him either, despite the fact that he was parading her around the place. Roisin thought she recognised a kindred spirit in the Danish girl. Someone who liked order and organisation, who liked everything to be in its place. Someone dependable. Which made her totally hopeless for Davey.

  Roisin stood at the doorway and stared down the garden. Alivia had abandoned Steffie for Bobby, a cousin on their father’s side, and his partner, Tom. She was flirting happily and harmlessly with both of them and they were laughing at her moves. Honestly, thought Roisin, you’d imagine they’d be a bit more grown up. She left the house and strode down the garden to where Steffie was sitting staring into space.

  ‘I need you to help organise the food,’ she told her sister. ‘I want the guests to eat before they have too much to drink. Also, I’m going to ask Dad to make another speech, because now that he’s had some time to get over the surprise, he’ll want to say something a bit more meaningful. And Paul will say a few words too before giving them the crystal bowl.’

  ‘We don’t need too many speeches,’ said Steffie as she stood up and brushed grass from her dress. ‘It gets boring.’

  ‘People want to say things,’ said Roisin. ‘It’s right that we give them the opportunity.’

  ‘Maybe they don’t. Maybe they just want to have fun.’

  ‘Don’t be— What the hell …’ Her voice rose and Steffie followed her surprised look across the garden. Colette and Bernice were crossing the lawn.

  ‘Oh-oh,’ she said. ‘Cat among the pigeons alert.’

  ‘God almighty! What’s she going to do when she sees the bimbo Carl has brought with him?’

  ‘Kill him?’ suggested Steffie. ‘And I’m saying that quite seriously.’

  ‘Stay here and keep an eye on things.’ Roisin marched across the lawn to intercept the two new arrivals.

  ‘Hi, Roisin,’ said Colette. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

  ‘Glad you finally got here.’ Roisin gave her cousin a quick hug. ‘We were wondering where you were. Bernice … we didn’t expect to see you at all.’

  ‘You invited me,’ said Bernice.

  ‘I know. Along with Carl. But under the circumstances …’

  ‘
I came to wish your mum and dad well,’ said Bernice. ‘They’ve always been very nice to me.’

  ‘And they’ll be delighted you wanted to share the day with them,’ said Roisin. ‘All the same …’

  ‘We’re on a break,’ said Bernice. ‘That doesn’t mean that I can’t be in the same place as him.’

  ‘I know,’ said Roisin. ‘But the thing is, Bernice …’ She looked around the garden. She couldn’t see Carl, but Summer had joined Alivia, Tom and Bobby.

  ‘What?’ demanded Bernice. ‘Am I being airbrushed out because Carl and I never got married?’

  ‘It’s not that at all,’ said Roisin. ‘It’s … well … Carl brought someone else with him.’

  Bernice paled beneath her make-up. ‘He what?’

  ‘It’s clear he brought her along as a stand-in for you,’ Roisin said. ‘But you can see it’s a little awkward.’

  ‘Her?’ Bernice’s eyes widened as she followed Roisin’s gaze. ‘That chit of a thing?’

  Colette gave her a quick hug. ‘You don’t have to worry, Bernice. That’s rebound stuff if ever I saw it.’

  ‘He’s not meant to be rebounding,’ said Bernice. ‘He’s meant to be on a break. Like me.’

  ‘Men are hopeless at that,’ Colette said. ‘All my exes were off with other women before the tan line on my engagement finger had faded. You’d have thought they’d want to be off the hook for a while, but they don’t really like it.’

  ‘I’ll fecking kill him,’ said Bernice.

  ‘I can’t let you do that,’ said Roisin. ‘It would ruin the party.’

  ‘OK, I won’t kill him.’ Bernice’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll maim him for life instead.’

  ‘Would you please do me a favour, just for today, and ignore him,’ said Roisin. ‘I’m sorry, Bernice. She certainly wasn’t invited and I’m raging at him for bringing her, but …’

  ‘Out of respect for your parents,’ said Bernice. ‘Not because I don’t want to take a meat cleaver to him.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘That’s sorted, then.’ Roisin wasn’t completely convinced that Bernice and Carl weren’t going to create a scene, but she couldn’t do much more about it. ‘Paul is dishing out drinks on the veranda, so that’s the place to go for some refreshment. We’ll be serving food shortly.’

  ‘I’ll get a drink,’ said Bernice. ‘Coming, Colette?’

  ‘Yes. Could do with one myself.’ Colette smiled briefly at Roisin, then followed Bernice to the veranda.

  ‘Has she got a knife in her bag?’ asked Steffie when Roisin returned.

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me!’ said Roisin. ‘What on earth is going through her head? If I was having a row with Paul, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn up to his parents’ party, even if I did want to kill him.’

  ‘Actually you would,’ said Steffie. ‘Although in your case, you’d pretend that everything was fine.’

  ‘You might have a point,’ agreed Roisin. ‘But that’s because we’re married.’

  ‘Maybe she feels they might as well have been married,’ said Steffie.

  ‘In that case she should’ve dragged him up the aisle. Or given him up as a lost cause. All this faffing around is pointless. She needs to fix things, either by staying or going.’

  ‘Not everyone sees things in black and white like you,’ said Steffie. ‘By the look of her, she’s either trying to woo him back or show him what he’s missing.’

  ‘It’s a massive makeover all right.’ Roisin decided to ignore Steffie’s comment about her seeing everything as black and white. She didn’t. She was a realist. ‘She’s lost a ton of weight, too,’ she added. ‘Clearly having a break is foolproof in the diet department.’

  ‘Not for me,’ said Steffie. ‘I usually eat my way out of misery.’

  ‘You’d never guess,’ said Roisin.

  ‘I never get miserable enough.’ She laughed before her expression changed as a low rumble in the sky above distracted both of them. ‘Oh crap. That sounded like thunder, didn’t it?’

  Roisin glanced upwards. The sky was now a hazy blue, with banks of thick clouds on the horizon.

  ‘It doesn’t look thundery,’ she said. ‘And it’s not forecast until tomorrow.’

  ‘I checked it on my phone a little earlier,’ Steffie told her. ‘It had changed to a lightning symbol for this afternoon. Although it could’ve been the crack on the screen from where I dropped it.’

  ‘Idiot,’ said Roisin. ‘We’d better get a move on, though. Just in case.’

  The bedroom door opened, startling Jenny, who smudged her lipstick, leaving a red slash across the corner of her mouth. She reached for a tissue and wiped it away as Pascal walked into the room.

  ‘You all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I was wondering where you’d got to.’

  ‘Not far, obviously,’ she said.

  He sat on the bed behind her.

  ‘Sure everything’s OK?’

  She sighed, and turned to face him.

  ‘I would be if I felt that all this was OK too,’ she said, extending her arms to include the house and, Pascal assumed, the people in it.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, you know,’ he said. ‘It’s irrelevant.’

  ‘Roisin has gone to so much trouble,’ said Jenny. ‘Steffie and Davey too. It seems wrong to … to pretend, basically.’

  ‘We’re not pretending,’ said Pascal.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Her eyes widened.

  ‘Forty years isn’t a pretence.’

  ‘I have to tell them.’ She stood up. ‘I have to tell them everything.’

  ‘Jenny!’ Pascal stood up too. ‘Not today. Tomorrow, maybe.’

  ‘It’s always tomorrow,’ said Jenny. ‘And that’s my fault.’

  ‘In later years that might have been true,’ conceded Pascal. ‘But earlier it was mine. Look, Jen, today is all about having a good time and celebrating. And there’s no reason we can’t celebrate. None whatsoever.’

  ‘But what exactly is the celebration?’ she asked.

  ‘We are.’ He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. ‘We are, Jenny Marshall. We’re celebrating forty years of us.’

  He kissed her.

  She kissed him back.

  He was right.

  He was always right.

  Steffie and Roisin had just taken the last plate of carved ham from the fridge when Jenny walked into the room. She was holding a glass of the sparkling rosé, although she didn’t appear to have drunk any of it.

  ‘Are you enjoying your party, Mum?’ asked Steffie when she saw her mother at the doorway.

  ‘I’m about to enjoy the bubbly that your dad poured for me,’ said Jenny.

  Roisin beamed at her. ‘You deserve it.’

  ‘Do I?’ asked Jenny.

  ‘Of course. You’re celebrating.’

  Jenny swallowed a mouthful of rosé.

  ‘Are you all right, Mum?’ There was a hint of concern in Steffie’s voice. She thought that Jenny sounded brittle and anxious.

  ‘Of course,’ said her mother. ‘I’m still in shock, that’s all.’

  ‘Good,’ said Roisin. ‘We wanted to shock you. In a nice way, of course.’

  ‘You’re very thoughtful,’ Jenny said. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘And me.’ Davey walked in the door. ‘I’m hearing nice things being said about the Sheehan siblings and I want my due respect.’

  Roisin laughed. ‘Respect for turning up?’ she asked.

  ‘And why not?’ Davey gave her a playful punch on her arm and Roisin yelped.

  ‘You have horribly bony fingers, Davey Sheehan,’ she said. ‘You always did have. That hurt.’

  ‘Cry baby,’ Dave teased.

  Jenny smiled at them. She knew they were joking around for her benefit, but it was nice to see all the same. It didn’t matter that her children were adults now. Whenever they were together she saw them as she’d aways seen
them. Her babies. She released a slow breath.

  ‘So we’ll tell everyone to come and eat, then cut your cake afterwards,’ said Steffie.

  ‘Cake?’ Jenny blanched.

  ‘Of course there’s cake!’ cried Roisin. ‘It’ll be just like your wedding. Or maybe not, because you didn’t get to do the whole cake thing in Rome, did you. Or the speeches or anything. So it’s nice to do it now, don’t you think?’

  Jenny was prevented from replying by a roll of thunder, which was clearly audible even over the music from the iPod in the speaker.

  ‘Please let it not rain,’ begged Roisin out loud. ‘It isn’t supposed to rain today.’

  ‘Even if it does, it’ll be dry on the veranda,’ said Steffie. ‘And it’s not cold or anything.’

  ‘This is a garden party, not a veranda party,’ wailed Roisin.

  ‘That thunder was miles away,’ Davey assured her. ‘It mightn’t make it here at all.’

  Jenny glanced towards the increasingly cloudy sky.

  ‘You should be good at weather forecasting, given that you’re into all that climate control stuff,’ Roisin said to Davey. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Um, there’s a big difference between making wind turbines and weather forecasting,’ he told her.

  ‘Same ballpark,’ said Roisin.

  ‘Not.’

  ‘I thought that’s how you met the gorgeous Camilla,’ Roisin said. ‘Weather stuff.’

  ‘At a conference,’ said Davey.

  ‘And you love her madly,’ said Steffie.

  Jenny was enjoying their banter but didn’t speak herself.

  ‘We’re good,’ Davey said, even though Steffie knew it was more than that.

  ‘Good?’ Roisin snorted. ‘What does that mean, Davey Sheehan?’

  ‘Taking it easy.’ He hadn’t minded saying something to Steffie, but he didn’t want Roisin to know about the engagement ring in his pocket. She’d only start trying to stage-manage his proposal. ‘No pressure.’

  ‘You too?’ Roisin shook her head. ‘You and Steffie are quite a pair. There’s some excuse for her – she’s still in her twenties – but you’re nearly forty. Practically middle-aged. The time for taking it easy has passed you by.’

  Steffie chuckled at Davey’s offended expression.