And she was gone.
I tugged the silver zip around the corner of the blue carry-on case. I looked up at our daughter, from where I sat in the middle of the bedroom floor. My head felt a little dizzy as I stood up.
“Oh Ruby, your mum has a little pain in her head today – a few glasses of wine too many last night. Your dad says your mum is a lush but don’t mind him – that’s not true. Your mum is not a lush, sure she’s not? Do you know what a lush is, sweetheart?”
But of course she couldn’t speak.
“I will tell you, Ruby,” I said. “A lush, according to your daddy, is your mum, but I tell him not to worry – that I have a whole six months of partying to catch up on. Do you know what he says? He says surely by now I must have made up that time. Do you know what I say? I say, no, I have another five months of white wine to drink. I have only drunk a month so far. He normally raises his eyes to heaven and goes back to his office then.”
I walked closer to our daughter, hoping that she might hear better and pay more attention to me. She seemed to have no interest in my trivial conversation. Well, I suppose it was not a conversation – it was more like one-way traffic, me speaking at her – and she could not run away from me, not at her age.
“Ruby, my little girl, you’re starting early – ignoring your mother when she’s speaking to you!”
I was sure she was thinking: There’s Mum ranting on again.
“Right, Ruby, hope that you’re ready for your little break, off to the Northside to your Fairy Godmother. I spoke to her just now and she’s looking forward to having you. I told her you would be no bother, so please, Ruby, be good for her. You’ll have plenty company – Jack and Frankie will be there – I know they’re a bit wild, but it’s just their age. I know you would never be like them, so I’m not worried that you’ll pick up any of their bad behaviour. Ruby, it will be nice for a change to have other kids around – it will be good for you to have other kids for company – and, anyway, it is nice too to have a change of scene – sometimes we all need a change of scene.”
Luke popped his head around the door. “Are you still talking at your poor daughter?”
I smiled but didn’t answer. Sometimes I forgot how loud I was when I was talking to Ruby. Other times, I completely forgot that Luke was in the house.
“Are you ready to go in ten minutes, sweetheart?” Luke spoke only to me.
“That’s perfect – nearly ready – I just need to get Ruby’s stuff together then I’m ready for the off.”
He ignored my comment.
“I’ll take Ruby down to the car if you can take the luggage,” I said.
He just smiled and left the room. His milk-chocolate eyes looked like that haze might come again. I hoped not, not this weekend anyway.
“We’re off in ten minutes, my little angel. Mummy just needs to get your blanket, to wrap you up, to keep you safe on the way to Sue’s and so that you are warm enough in her house.”
I wrapped her safely in a multicoloured blanket, the one that her grandmother Lizzy had got for her before she was born.
“Luke, see you downstairs! I have Ruby!” I called out from the living room.
“Okay, love,” his chirped from his office.
I thought his voice sounded rather upbeat under the circumstances.
“My gorgeous girl, we are ready – let’s go – we’re all off on our holidays, your dad and I and you too.”
I picked up my little girl in her blanket and cradled her in my left arm. I held her tight against my chest, careful not to drop her. Slowly, very slowly, I walked down the frayed steps that led from the apartment to the front door. Carefully I secured each foot before moving the next – I was so paranoid about dropping my precious cargo.
Luke thundered down the stairs behind me with the luggage and held the heavy yellow door open for me and Ruby. I walked out and down the wide granite steps onto the gravel that led to the black gate.
“Luke?” I looked over the roof of the car at him.
“Yes, my love?”
“I’ll sit with Ruby in the back, to keep her company. Is that okay?” I asked, almost as if seeking permission.
“Of course, sweetheart, whatever makes you happy.” His tone was low.
He turned on the ignition of the car, his car.
I whispered to my little girl: “Say goodbye to the apartment, Ruby. Tell it we’ll be back home soon, all three of us – only two sleeps and we’ll be back together again, back home safe behind the yellow door. Go on, Ruby, blow a kiss to the house – tell it we’ll be home in two sleeps – blow it a kiss, Ruby. Just two more sleeps and I’ll be with you again.”
I lowered the window gently and, bringing my fingers up to meet my lips, I blew hard at our apartment.
“Bye, house, bye, see you soon!” I waved at the yellow door.
Luke looked at me in the rear-view mirror. He said nothing.
We sat there in the back of the car; I sat on the left and Ruby on the right. She was all wrapped up in the multicoloured blanket. I reached across and fastened her seat belt. I opened the top of the blanket so that she would have a better view on the way to her godmother’s. I raised the window, leaving it just a little open on my side, to give us both some air.
We would drive along the coast road, all along the coast road, the road that Ruby and I had travelled the day we were on the way to the maternity hospital, before she was born.
Sue’s house was further along that drive, past the airport, nearer to Howth, not too far from Howth lighthouse – the grey-and-white Baily lighthouse. I felt more comfortable knowing that Ruby would be in familiar surroundings, near the lighthouse – it was the same lighthouse that she could see from the desk of our bedroom window. She would have a view of it from Sue’s house, a different view, but she would still be able to see it. From the window in Sue’s house, she would have a great view of the east and west piers too – she’d be able to see the red and green lighthouses though she’d be looking at them from the opposite side of Dublin Bay. But they were still familiar surroundings for Ruby. It would take her no time to settle in there.
Luke switched on the radio. It was just four o’clock, and time for the afternoon news.
“Ruby, do you remember the day that you and I drove past here and I told you all the stories? Only a few weeks ago when you and I were on the way to the maternity hospital? Sweetheart, Mummy is talking to you – do you remember?”
Ruby was silent. Luke was too.
The heat of the July afternoon and the motion of the car lulled me off to sleep.
When I woke up I saw Luke glance into the rear-view mirror.
“Luke,” I piped up, “sorry I fell asleep. I’m wrecked from the run this morning.”
He didn’t mention the wine last night, nor did I.
“We’re almost there,” Luke announced. “Which house is it? I can never remember – there are so many bloody laneways around here.”
“Sue’s house is the grey one there, with the red windows – yes, that one just to the left.”
It was one of the few occasions that Luke was willing to take instructions when driving.
“Ruby, we’re here at last at your godmother’s, your Fairy Godmother’s. See there at the door – there’s Sue – do you see her? There waiting for you. Ruby, give her a wave, a big wave.”
I waved frantically at Sue for both of us. I opened Ruby’s seat belt and fixed her so that she was properly wrapped in her multicoloured blanket. I wanted her looking well for her godmother.
Then I picked her up, got out of the backseat, and we hurried to greet Sue.
“Hi, hon! Lovely to see you!” Sue chirped.
She gave me a big hug; it was so tight that I was afraid I might drop Ruby.
“You too.” I gave her a big kiss on the cheek.
“Luke, so good to see you,” said Sue, “and congratulations on being back on this side of the world. You must be thrilled?”
“Sue, I can’t tell y
ou how relieved I am,” said Luke. “It’s a month now and I hardly know myself . . .” He paused. “I mean, we’re doing okay, as well as could be expected.”
He looked at me, to confirm it was true, that we were doing okay. My mouth smiled at him; my eyes didn’t move much.
“You are so good to mind Ruby for us – we both really appreciate it,” I said.
“Sure she’s no trouble at all and there’s no minding her. Isn’t that what Fairy Godmothers are for anyway? Come in, come in for a bit.” She opened the door to the house.
Jack and Frankie came running out of the living room to the front door.
“Mummy, Mummy, can we meet Ruby? Can we meet Ruby?” Jack squealed.
“Jack, Jack, what did I tell you earlier – what did Mummy say to you about Ruby?”
Jack hesitated. “You said that she was very very small, only a baby, and that she was not made like me and Frankie – she’s too young to play – her body is too young to play – and that all she does is sleep all the time.”
Sue pointed in the direction of the back garden. “Now, say hello to Luke and Afric and then go out to the back garden.”
“Hello, Afric, hello, Luke,” the twins chimed in chorus.
They were gone.
Digging my nails deep into my right hand, I took a long breath and looked away. I looked ahead at a picture – I have no idea what the picture was of. I counted very slowly to five. I stood there inside the door, frozen, there in the hall. I realised that my little Ruby would never play like the twins.
I looked at Luke, checking to see was that dreaded mist rolling into his eyes. He winked at me and smiled, and I knew we would be okay.
“Sue, we won’t stay long as we have a few things to get in the airport, so if it’s okay I’ll settle Ruby upstairs and we’ll make tracks straight away.” Somehow, I managed to get the entire sentence out.
“You know which room is hers, don’t you? The dormer room upstairs, the room with the sea view of the three lighthouses. She’s safest up there away from the boys. Go on up and settle her, the two of you, but make sure that you lock the door on the way out – and you’d better bring the key down here to me – I don’t want the twins up there meddling with her.” She indicated to us to go upstairs.
Slowly and carefully I climbed up, careful not to drop our little girl on the winding wooden stairs.
“Are you okay there, Afric?” Luke enquired. He rubbed the bottom of my back as I climbed the stairs in front of him.
“Yes, sweetheart, I am fine, just fine,” I replied. I steadied my voice. “Now, Ruby, let’s go and have a look at your room. Your Fairy Godmother gave you the best room in the house. Aren’t you the lucky girl? Look there, look out the window – can you see three lighthouses? The same three lighthouses you can see from our house. Look at the green lighthouse in the distance – that is near your house, where you live, so don’t be lonely. Sue will take care of you, Mummy and Daddy will be back home soon – only two sleeps and we’ll be back to collect you.” I rubbed her very gently.
Luke walked from the window back to the centre of the room where I stood holding our little girl. He opened his arms, wider than normal to welcome both of us into them, to a place where we both could be safe, and there in his arms nothing more could happen to his girls. He held us tight, all three of us locked together in heartache. Then he dropped his head down and kissed me on the top of my head very softly, so that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my forehead. Then very slowly he opened the blanket and leant in and kissed his tiny little girl.
“Love you, Ruby. I’ll miss you very much, my little girl,” he whispered to her. “I’ll be back soon to collect you, to take you back into my arms, to take you home again.”
Ruby seemed completely oblivious of her parents’ departure.
Chapter 2
One Month Before . . .
A Friday in June, 2013
Her hazel-green eyes almost popped out of her skull and onto the computer screen. Her concentration was fierce. I strained my neck to the right to see what she was looking at. She tilted the screen ever so slightly away from the examination bed, and moved it closer to her. She was like a greedy child, wanting it only for herself.
Mary glanced briefly at me, but her eyes didn’t meet mine. Mine tried to flirt with hers, to attract them, but she was careful to avoid contact.
A large flat plasma screen occupied some of the cream wall; it was positioned right in front of me and directly behind Mary’s head. She didn’t look at the large screen, my screen, but instead concentrated on her monitor, the smaller one.
I lay there on the flat of my back, like a kid waiting for a movie to start, but for some reason there seemed to be a delay. However, the screen and the lady failed to announce what the setback might be. I thought it best to wait patiently; I didn’t want to distract the lady with the green eyes.
Then an image of something moving popped up on the big screen. The thing displayed in black-and-white seemed tiny on the vast wall-screen. I wondered how something so tiny could have all that energy and move so frantically. What was its hurry? Where was it going in such a rush?
On the bottom right-hand side of the screen, displayed in dark-red writing, was a type of an announcement that read: Client: Afric Lynch DOB: 11/11/72.
I moved my head forward, trying to get closer to that screen. The thing, it kept moving, and the monitor said that this frantic thing was mine. But Mary still wanted the screen just for herself. But it was mine, not hers – not the screen, I mean, but the thing that moved on the screen. I was going to be a mother. Of course I could do this, I told myself. Yes, I could do this – I could be a mother and put this blob, right there on the screen, first. Well, the blob would develop a little more and become a person, eventually. I could give up everything: the long-distance sea-swimming, the wild camping holidays to exotic places. I could even sacrifice the boozy weekends away with the girls.
Those inklings that had been troubling me were now in a small dark corner of my head, and there they must stay, forever, safely tucked away. Those people were right, the ones who told me that I was imagining things. They were correct, those sensible people when they told me to get a grip, that it was just the damned hormones. Take no notice, they said, just plough on. I did that.
Lying there flaked out on the bed, for the very first time ever I started to consider the long-term future. There it was in black-and-white on the screen. I was looking at our future: the baby’s, mine and Luke’s. This was the new version of our family. I could be a mother. I was sure that I could do it, that we together could work it out.
She pressed the cold grey hand-scanner into my flesh; skillfully, she used it to move the clear gunge around my midriff. Even though my baby was tiny, ever so tiny, the scanning seemed to take an eternity.
Mary was well organised, or so I thought – she had a list, like one you might take to the supermarket. Her process had a beginning, middle and an end. She had a record of the things that she needed to find. When Mary found something that she needed for her list, having located it she would then scan it, and then measure its dimensions, both length and width. Then she would call it out, very slowly, pronouncing the newly found item very clearly. She was as precise as those people on telly who call out the lottery-ball numbers.
Mary didn’t address the names to me. They were called out for herself, and it was part of her process, like her own TV show. Then she would stick the name of whatever she had found up on the top right-hand corner of the large screen, my screen on the wall. Then, she would sit back on her chair and admire it proudly.
She didn’t appear to make any connection between my body and the body on the screen.
I wondered how many things were on her list. Were we talking a hundred or just maybe ten? I toyed with the idea of asking, but decided against it. Her concentration was too fierce to interfere with.
So the well-organised shopper, Mary, continued with her list. It was hers because she
didn’t share it with me. What I didn’t understand was why she didn’t start with the baby’s head or toes and work her way either up or down the body. Instead she had a bizarre approach: she started with the head, then headed off down the body looking for a spine, then back to the head, then all the way down again to the heart, and up again to the head. It didn’t seem to me to be a good use of her or my time. All the time she stuck to the list and never deviated from it.
Mary was the type of lady you would never find in the special-offers section of the supermarket. She would only visit the aisles where she needed to be. She would know where every aisle was located and what item was on each shopping lane. If an item was not on the list, she would never dream of even putting a foot down its aisle. She would be every marketer’s dream; she would score ten out of ten on brand loyalty. She would never purchase replacement items; she would do without and then return the following week at the same time and purchase the item that she had failed to secure the week before. She could wait to get the full list completed.
Mary cleared her throat and spoke very calmly. “Afric, the baby will have long legs, very long femurs, but then the femur is the longest bone in the body, isn’t it?”
Was she asking me to agree with her or was she was not certain whether it was the longest bone in the body? Not sure of an appropriate reply, I just nodded.
That seemed to suit her fine.
“See the heart, there.” She swung around on the chair and pointed her thin bony finger at the centre of the screen on the wall. “Just there pumping away good – well, you don’t need to worry about the heart – your baby has very strong heart.”
“Oh, yes, I see it right there. God, it’s racing like hell,” I replied, careful not to chatter on too much. I wondered if I was looking at the right bit, but I decided against enquiring.
“A baby’s heart beats faster than ours – sometimes up to three times faster. Crazy, isn’t it?” Then she repeated: “Your baby has a very strong heart.”
I thought that she had done the heart – why had she not moved on to somewhere else? At this rate she would never finish her list, if she was back to the heart again.
Ruby's Tuesday Page 3
