Joan sighed. ‘That’s the whole point. She needs to get to know you properly. You need to bond with each other.’
Laura didn’t want to get into this now. She’d deal with it later when she had time to work out a plan. For now she’d tell Joan she had to do more shifts in the restaurant, and in September she’d tell her she had lectures all day and study groups at night or something. She’d worry about it when she got back from London. But right now all she cared about was going to the concert and seeing Danny. She needed Joan on her side.
‘You’re right, Mum. I do need to take more responsibility and I promise I will. I’ll be more mature and level-headed and all that. But Chloë just called and invited me over to London for the weekend. It’s no big deal, just two days, and when I come back I’ll look after Jody more and be a better person.’
‘The answer is no.’
Laura saw a wall of yellow. ‘I HATE YOU!’ She stormed off to bed, drank half a bottle of vodka and cried herself to sleep.
When she got home from the restaurant the next night, Joan was standing in the hall with her coat on. ‘I have to go to Galway. Angela’s broken her leg, and Tony’s away on business until Tuesday, so she needs my help. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to tell the restaurant you can’t work for the next few days. You have to look after Jody.’
‘Why can’t you take her with you?’
‘Because I’m going to be flat out, looking after Angela and her four kids. Anyway, it’ll be good for you both. You can spend some quality time together. Now, make sure you look after Jody properly. Give her balanced meals, lots of fresh air and not too much TV. You’ll have fun with her – she’s great company. Look, I have to dash. I’ll call you later.’
‘But, Mum, I –’
Joan rushed out of the door before Laura could object any further. She stomped upstairs to get some vodka. She was furious. Now she’d be stuck with a kid all weekend. How the hell was she going to fill her days? Her manager at Dino’s would go mad when she told him she couldn’t work the busy weekend shifts.
The phone rang and she grabbed it before it woke Jody. It was Chloë. ‘Any luck? Did you persuade your mum?’
‘No – and now she’s gone to Galway for the weekend because her sister broke her leg and she’s left me on my own with Jody.’
‘Oh, God!’
‘Look, you might as well give my ticket to someone else.’
‘Hang on! If your mum is definitely going to be in Galway all weekend, why don’t you come over?’
‘Because I’ve got Jody.’
‘Yeah, but we can find a babysitter. I’ll ask around in the other flats and see if I can find someone. I’m sure it won’t be hard.’
Laura felt the adrenalin pumping through her veins. ‘And I’ve saved up loads of money from the restaurant and not going out, so I can easily pay for flights.’
‘Oh, my God, this is great!’ Chloë squealed. ‘Call Aer Lingus first thing in the morning and book your flights.’
‘I’M COMING!’ Laura shouted, and everything suddenly looked blue, a lovely aqua blue.
9.
Anna
August 1994
Barry squashed the last box into the boot of his car and closed it. He turned to face Anna. ‘So.’
‘So.’ She smiled.
‘Onwards and upwards.’
‘Exactly.’
He looked at the house. ‘We had some good times here.’
‘Yes, we did, very good times.’
He put his arm around her. ‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out.’
She rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Me too.’
‘I never thought we’d be the ones to split up.’
‘We gave it our best shot. Life threw us too many curve balls.’
‘You can say that again.’ He sighed. ‘I wish we’d been luckier.’
Anna fought back tears. ‘We really never got a break. Hope was the last straw. Too much pain …’
Barry cleared his throat. ‘She was so beautiful … It’s not fair …’ His voice broke.
Anna hugged him. They clung to each other over the memory of their lost daughter, their joint heartache.
Anna pulled back first. She dried her eyes. ‘God, this is hard.’
He gave her a shaky smile. ‘It’s been a great ten years, even with all the crap.’
‘Yes, it has.’
‘I just wish –’
‘Don’t. We can’t change the past.’
He exhaled deeply. ‘So, what time is your ferry?’
‘Tomorrow at eleven.’
‘I’ll miss you, Anna.’
‘Me too.’
‘Will you write and let me know you’re OK?’
‘I think it’s best if we make a clean break. I’ll be fine and I know you will too. It’ll be easier for me not to keep in touch. Too many memories.’
‘OK. Look after yourself. I hope you find peace of mind and happiness in London.’
‘Thanks.’ She kissed her husband’s cheek.
‘I transferred the money for the sale of the house into your account yesterday.’
‘Great.’
‘Good luck with those posh English girls. It’ll make a change from the inner-city kids here.’
She smiled. ‘Change is good.’
Barry jingled his car keys in his pocket. ‘Right … well …’
Anna hugged him once more, then walked away. ‘I’m going back into the house while you drive off. I can’t do the big goodbye.’
Barry called after her, ‘I wish it had turned out differently.’
‘Me too.’
Anna finished packing and closed her suitcase. She went to the drawer in her bedside locker to get her passport. Lying underneath it was Hope’s birth certificate. Anna’s hands shook as she held it. She sat down on the bed and stared at the document – Hope Sophie Roberts, date of birth 24 January 1993. Anna pressed the piece of paper to her chest. She was glad that she had this to remind her that she had been a mother once, if only for the briefest moment. She was glad that her daughter had been acknowledged in this world, as a person, a human being who mattered.
There was no death certificate. Anna had meant to register Hope’s death, but when she’d got to the Register Office she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face erasing her baby’s existence. How could a mother go in and tell a stranger to destroy all evidence of her child’s life? How could she wipe out her baby’s birth? Hope had lived, she had been on this earth. She was Anna’s most treasured possession. Anna couldn’t destroy that. Not ever.
Anna packed her passport and Hope’s birth certificate into her travel wallet and went to her hair appointment.
‘What would you like done today?’
‘I want you to cut it all off.’
The hairdresser was clearly shocked. ‘But you’ve got beautiful hair.’
‘I need a change. I need to walk out of here looking like a different person because then maybe I’ll feel like a different person.’
‘You’re absolutely sure?’
‘I’ve never been more sure of anything.’
The hairdresser began to cut. Anna felt numb as she watched her thick hair fall to the ground around her. Good riddance, she thought.
Joe looked around the coffee shop. Anna waved. He looked behind him. She called his name. He peered at her. ‘Jesus, Anna, is that you?’
She held her hand up to her cropped hair. ‘Yes.’
‘You look –’
‘Completely different?’ she suggested.
‘I’d never have recognized you.’
‘Good. I want to create a new me. I’m shedding my old life.’
‘But your hair,’ he said.
‘My crowning glory. It had to go. It was tying me to my past life. I feel lighter, freer now. I also feel less visible. I like that. I want to blend into the background. I need to be invisible for a while until I figure out who I am again.’
‘And you’ve got so thin.’
/>
‘That would be the misery diet,’ she said, with a wry smile.
‘When do you leave?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Are you sure about this?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s the only decision I can make. I can’t stand being here with the memories and the grief, the failed pregnancies and the failed marriage. I have to get away. There’s nothing for me here. I know that if I stay I’ll sink into a terrible depression that I’ll never get out of. I’m terrified of it. I’m afraid to let myself think too much. I need to be distracted. New country, new job, new home, new me.’ Her voice cracked.
Joe leaned over and held her hand. ‘You know I’ll always be here for you, and if the depression does catch up with you, call me. You’ve been to Hell and back, and I’m worried about you.’
Anna took an unsteady sip of her coffee. ‘I don’t know what else to do. How did I end up here, Joe? I should be at home surrounded by babies, not starting a new life at forty.’
‘You were unlucky. Incredibly unlucky. But, look, at forty you’re young. You still have a full life to live. You’re a fantastic person and I know you’ll meet some great guy and hopefully you’ll find happiness again.’
‘I don’t think you can meet someone if you’re dead inside.’
Joe put his arm around her. ‘It’ll get better over time.’
‘Will it? Are you sure? Because right now I feel like a corpse. My heart is shattered, my soul is black. I wake up every day and the pain of Hope’s death leaves me gasping for breath. And as the day goes on I feel angry, resentful and bitter.’
‘Of course you feel all those things – you’re still grieving. The loss of a child is the worst thing that can happen to anyone.’
‘I don’t want to end up a bitter old woman. I’m fighting it. I’m trying really hard not to fall into the why-me-why-not-them pity party. But it’s hard, Joe. When I think of some of the parents of the kids I taught, out of their minds on drink and drugs, completely incapable of looking after their children, I do get angry. Why should they get to be parents and not me? I’m a good person. I could give a child a great home. I’ve been teaching for many years. I’ve seen how damaged those little children are by living with neglectful alcoholics and drug addicts.’
Joe stirred his coffee. ‘I agree with you. Some people just should not be allowed to raise children, but that doesn’t change your situation. You have to focus on yourself, not others. You need to heal your soul and your heart and you won’t do that if you let anger eat away at you.’
Anna sank back into her chair. ‘I know, but it’s hard.’
‘Hey, I’m here for you any time you want to rant or rage or cry. I’ve seen what you went through. I know how much pain you’re in. Besides, as well as being your friend I’m your doctor, so if you feel yourself going under, call me.’
Anna hugged him. ‘Thanks, Joe. Now that Barry’s gone you’re the only “family” I’ve got.’
‘You’re the sister I never wanted.’ Joe laughed. ‘I’ll miss you.’
Anna stood up. ‘I’ll miss you too. Now, go home to your wife and son. Cherish him, Joe. Kids really are miracles. Mark’s a lucky little boy to have you as a dad.’
Joe kissed her cheek. ‘Mind yourself – and remember, call me anytime.’
Anna watched her old friend walk away. Back to his wife and son. Back to his warm home and welcoming family. She suddenly felt desperately lonely. Hope’s face flashed in front of her and she had to grab the wall to stop herself buckling under the weight of the pain. She forced herself to breathe, in and out, in and out. After a while she was able to walk on.
For the millionth time she questioned her actions. Was she mad moving away and taking a job at a well-to-do private girls’ school in Putney? But what choice did she have – stay here and watch Barry move on with his life while hers stood still?
She was broken. And the only thing she could do to save herself was to run away. She caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. She wasn’t Anna any more. She was a thin, cropped-haired, exhausted woman in nondescript clothes. She looked invisible, which was exactly how she felt.
10.
Laura
The next day …
Laura slammed down the phone. All flights to London were booked up.
‘It’s high season,’ the woman had said. ‘You have to plan in advance. Everyone goes on holidays in August.’
‘But you don’t understand. I have to get to London. It’s an emergency,’ Laura cried.
‘Is someone sick?’
‘No, but there’s this guy –’
‘Isn’t there always?’ The woman sighed.
‘This one is special. I’ve fancied him for years and he’s just broken up with his girlfriend, who is one of my friends, except she’s a bitch. I have to get over there. I know we’ll get together now. I feel it in my bones.’
‘I’m sorry, love, there’s nothing I can do for you here. Why don’t you try the boat? It’ll probably be booked up but you might get on as a foot passenger.’
Laura exhaled. ‘That’s a great idea. I’ll do it now. Thanks.’
‘Good luck.’
Laura got a ticket for the boat. She cried when the man said yes. But now she had exactly one hour to pack and get to the dock before it sailed. She grabbed a pile of clothes for Jody and stuffed them into her knapsack with some nappies, Jody’s blanky and a soother. Then she ran into her bedroom and pulled everything she had out of her wardrobe. She needed the perfect outfit for the concert. Chloë had said it was roasting in London. She decided on a tight blue sundress that showed off her eyes. She knew tomorrow would be a blue day so she wanted to be dressed to match.
Laura looked at her watch. Damn! She had to hurry. She called her mother. Joan picked up after three rings.
‘How did Jody sleep last night?’ her mother asked.
‘Not well. She woke up five times looking for her soother. I’m absolutely exhausted.’
‘I always put four soothers in so she’s never stuck for one.’
‘Oh, OK, I’ll do that tonight.’
‘Did you give her porridge for her breakfast?’
Laura had given Jody just a bottle of milk: she’d been too busy trying to organize transport to London. ‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘How’s Angela?’
‘She’s in a lot of pain, the poor thing. It was a bad break. She really needs my help – she can’t do anything. I’ll have to stay until Tony gets back from his business trip.’
‘That’s fine. Stay as long as you need to.’
‘I should be back on Tuesday but it might be Wednesday, if Tony’s on a late flight.’
Laura punched the air with her fist. Perfect. Joan would never know about London. Laura would be back on Monday with Jody. She’d got a lunchtime flight back to Dublin that day – flights back were no problem to book. She’d ring her mother from London in the morning to reassure her that everything was OK and let Jody say hi to her so Joan wouldn’t suspect anything. This was all working out perfectly. Laura hadn’t felt so happy in ages.
‘It’s fine, Mum. Take your time.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be able to manage with Jody? I’m worried about her.’
‘You said I need to look after her more so that’s what I’m doing and she’s great.’
‘Good. Well, there are some homemade soups in the freezer. Defrost them and give them to her. It’s very warm, so don’t put a vest on her at night. Put the Minnie Mouse pyjamas on her and the light pink blanket. And only half an hour’s television a day. It’s bad for her.’
Laura decided to jump in. If her mother kept going on, she’d miss the boat. ‘OK, Mum. Don’t worry, it’s all under control.’
‘You have to watch her like a hawk. You can’t take your eyes off her – she’s at the age where she wants to put everything into her mouth. She could choke or fall down the stairs or fall off the roundabout in the park and get concussion or –’
Laura bit her tongue. ‘
I know, Mum. I’ll keep a close eye on her, I promise.’
‘Please do. Because if anything happens to that child while you’re in charge, I will never forgive you. Now put me on to Jody.’
Laura groaned silently. It was all taking too long. She grabbed Jody away from the TV and put the phone to her ear.
‘Hello, my little pet,’ Joan said.
‘Gany, Gany.’ Jody’s face lit up.
‘Yes, you clever thing, it’s Granny. How are you?’
Jody stared into the phone.
‘Are you being a good girl?’
Jody nodded silently.
‘She’s nodding, Mum,’ Laura told Joan.
‘I miss you, pet,’ Joan said.
Jody nodded again.
‘She’s still nodding. She misses you too.’ Laura was desperate to get away.
‘What are you going to do today?’ Joan asked her grandchild.
Laura rolled her eyes. For God’s sake, the kid couldn’t speak! She lifted the phone from Jody. ‘We’re going to the park. Actually, we’d better head off now, before it gets too hot.’
‘Good idea. Don’t forget her sun cream and her hat,’ Joan said.
‘It’s all done,’ Laura lied. ‘OK, ’bye, Mum.’
‘Bye-bye, Jody,’ Joan shouted.
‘Bye-bye, Gany,’ Jody shouted back.
Laura hung up and Jody began to cry. ‘Gany … Gany …’
‘She’s gone now but she’ll be back soon,’ Laura told her.
Jody threw herself on to the floor and howled, ‘Gany … uh … uh … Gany!’
‘Jesus, Jody, I don’t have time for this. You’ll see Granny in a few days. Stop whining. I got no bloody sleep because of you last night. Now, come on.’
Jody cried even louder. Laura grabbed her by the waist and pinned her into the buggy while she clicked her straps on. Jody screamed and wriggled, but Laura was stronger and more determined. She strapped her in, then snarled, ‘You’re not going to ruin this weekend for me. I swear, Jody, you’d better be good or I’ll leave you on the bloody boat.’
Jody screamed all the way up the road to the train. Laura shoved her soother into her mouth to plug the noise and gave her the blanky.
This Child of Mine Page 8
