by Sue Fortin
‘I’m sorry. I really am,’ says Joe.
Roisin lets out a scoffing sort of noise. ‘Pathetic, Joe Wright, absolutely pathetic.’
‘Didn’t you stop to think what this was doing to your own mother?’ says Kerry, turning to Roisin.
‘The end justifies the means,’ says Roisin. ‘This way, my mother gets the grandchild she has been denied all this time. She gets a part of her son that has been lost forever.’
‘And you get atonement,’ I say.
‘We all get that,’ says Roisin.
Chapter 42
The shower was warm and welcoming. Roisin had it on full blast and needle-sharp water pummelled her skin. She took the exfoliating scrunchy and scrubbed at her skin. Roisin was tired. She had been home for two hours, having spent the best part of the day at the Gardai station, explaining away her disappearance and reasons for taking Sophie.
It had been a total surprise to both her and the Guards when Sean and Fiona Keane had insisted they didn’t want to press charges. Sean had convinced the Guards to let her off with a lecture about how much upset and trouble she had caused. How her mother had been beside herself with worry, how the Keanes and the Hurleys had been distraught, not to mention the time and manpower wasted by the Guards. She did actually feel guilty about her mam, but it had to be done. The Hurleys, well, she wasn’t too worried about them. As she had said to Erin, the end justified the means. She had what she wanted. What her mam needed. What her family needed. The pain of today would heal and the pain of the past ten years would ease.
Roisin stood under the shower for another five minutes, rehearsing for the one-hundredth time what she was going to say to her mam. She had been waiting for this moment for a long time. She wanted to get it right.
Diana was waiting in the living room with Pat. This in itself was unusual. Roisin suspected that Pat had banned his wife from the drawing room. Too close to the sherry. He knew there was a big announcement coming, but Roisin had little doubt either of them knew what it was.
‘Ah, there you are,’ said her father. He stood up and kissed Roisin’s cheek. Taking her hand, he guided his daughter over to the sofa, next to her mother.
‘You look better,’ said Diana.
‘And smell better too,’ said her father. He laughed at his own joke.
‘There’s something important I need to tell you,’ said Roisin, cutting to the chase. She had never been any good at small talk and she knew they were itching to find out what she had to say. Roisin smiled at her mother. For the first time since finding out about the baby, Roisin doubted herself. She so wanted this to be the answer to her mother’s problems, but what if it wasn’t? What if Diana didn’t want to know the child? Then Roisin would have to go back to the Hurleys with her tail between her legs. She didn’t care that she had caused them upset, but she cared about her mam.
‘What is it?’ said Diana.
‘It’s about Niall and Erin Hurley.’ Diana caught her breath, but said nothing, so Roisin continued, ‘I found out recently that Erin was pregnant when Niall died.’
‘Oh, that’s nonsense,’ said Diana. ‘What a preposterous idea.’
‘It’s the truth, Mam. I know. Erin told me.’
‘And you believe the lies of someone like her. Don’t be ridiculous, Roisin.’
‘Mam! Stop.’ Roisin laid her hand on her mam’s. ‘You don’t have to pretend. I know the truth.’
Diana pulled her hand away and began disputing this, telling Roisin it was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard in all her days. Roisin looked at her father. He hadn’t said a word so far. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he looked straight at Roisin.
‘Diana, please. Stop,’ he said. ‘Roisin is right. We know that, don’t we?’
Diana went to protest, but her voice was silenced as Pat held his finger to his lips. He gave a slight shake of the head.
Diana looked down, her eyes not able to meet those of her daughter’s. ‘Yes, it’s true,’ she said eventually, her voice was only just audible.
‘You, Dad, Jim and Marie Hurley all wanted her to have an abortion,’ said Roisin.
Diana tutted. ‘Termination. The word is termination. Abortion sounds so, so…crude.’
‘So that’s true too,’ said Roisin. Her heart dropped a little. Her own mother, a GP, sworn to save life, wanted to terminate life.
‘They were young. Niall was about to go off to university. He was going to be a lawyer. Move to America. He had dreams. We had it all planned out. A baby wasn’t in the plan,’ said Diana, her voice growing stronger with every word. ‘It was for the best. We all agreed on that. We wanted our children to have the best start, the best chance in life. Having a baby wouldn’t have done that. There was plenty of time for children. They were only children themselves.’ She stared at the fireplace for a moment. ‘God, I could do with a drink.’
Pat went into the drawing room, reappearing with a small glass of sherry, which Diana downed in one go.
‘The thing is,’ said Roisin, once Diana had placed the empty glass on the coffee table. ‘After the accident, everyone assumed Erin had lost the baby.’
‘Yes. She did,’ said Diana. ‘Her mother told me so.’
‘Mam, she didn’t have a miscarriage. She was okay in the end. She went to England straight after the funeral. She had the baby over there.’
‘What do you mean?’ Diana sounded a mix of anger and surprise.
‘She went through with the pregnancy,’ said Roisin, knowing there was no way back now, despite the incredulous look on her mother’s face and the knowledge that this would poleaxe her. ‘She had the baby. She had Niall’s baby. Your grandchild.’
‘No. That’s not possible,’ said Diana, flapping Roisin away with her hand, like she would an irritating fly. ‘Marie Hurley made a point of coming to me after the funeral and telling me that Erin had had a heavy bleed and there was no need for a termination.’
‘That, I suppose, was the truth,’ said Roisin. ‘Marie Hurley left out a few details, though.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ muttered Pat. He left the room and came back this time with the sherry bottle and two more glasses. He poured one for them all.
Diana took another drink. ‘What happened to the baby?’ she said. Her voice was quiet. ‘What happened to my son’s child?’
‘They named her Sophie,’ said Roisin, trying to break the news gently. ‘Sophie Keane.’
Her father looked blank. It didn’t mean anything to him. Her mother, however, made the connection. ‘Sophie Keane?’ she repeated.
‘That’s right. Fiona and Sean’s oldest girl,’ said Roisin. ‘They have brought her up as their own.’
Diana stared at her daughter for a minute before speaking. ‘I have a grandchild living in this village and I didn’t know?’ She rose and walked across to the French doors, which overlooked the gardens. She gazed out of the window and hugged her arms around her waist, pulling her cardigan around her. ‘Niall has a daughter. Part of Niall lives on.’ Her hand went to her mouth to stifle a sob and then she collapsed onto the parquet flooring.
As Roisin and her father rushed over and picked her up, Diana was crying but smiling at the same time. Supporting her, one under each arm, they took her over to the sofa and put her feet up.
‘Just rest there, Mam.’
Diana reached out for her husband and grasped his hands within her own.
‘Pat, we have a grandchild. Niall hasn’t gone completely,’ she said through her sobs. Roisin realised these were sobs of joy. ‘He’s still with us. We have a grandchild.’ Diana repeated these two sentences several times.
‘Go and get your mother’s pills,’ said Pat.
‘I don’t want to be sedated. Those tablets are to stop me feeling pain. This isn’t pain. This is pure joy. I want to feel every moment of it,’ said Diana through her tears.
Roisin found herself crying too. Even her father couldn’t stop the tears from falling. For the first time since
Niall had died Roisin could see the happy, joyous mother she had once known. Perhaps her father could see it too. There was a glimmer of her mother, the one who laughed and sang and played games with her. Her mam was coming back to them. No matter what anyone said, Roisin knew she had done the right thing.
The silence lies heavy across Fiona’s kitchen table. My mum sits beside me with Fiona and Sean opposite. After the initial relief that mum has been released by the Guards, the harsh reality of what we must face is now upon us.
‘How’s your father?’ Mum ventures at last.
‘I went to see him today,’ says Fiona. ‘He was awake for much longer than the last time and the sleeps in between were much shorter.’
‘And his speech?’
‘It’s getting better. A little slurred and slow, but the doctor says it’s all good signs. They are going to get him out of bed tomorrow and see how his gross motor skills are.’
‘There’s something you need to know,’ says Mum. ‘About your dad’s fall.’
Fiona reaches across the table. ‘It’s okay, Mum. We know.’
‘I told them,’ I say. ‘I thought they should know. No more secrets.’
‘I’ll have to tell the Guards,’ says Mum.
‘You can’t do that,’ I say. The thought of my mum being questioned again and possibly charged for attempted murder for real, fills me with horror. Fiona protests too.
‘Now, you three listen to me,’ says Sean. ‘This conversation need never be had again. What happened at the top of the steps was an accident. You can’t be prosecuted for your thoughts, only your actions. You didn’t push Jim. He fell. End of.’ He looks purposefully at each of us in turn. We nod in agreement. ‘Good. Now, I suggest we move on and sort out what we’re going to tell Sophie. How do we play this? What I mean is, not only what do we tell Sophie, but what happens to her now?’
I speak before anyone else has a chance to.
‘She heard a lot of it up at the croft. I don’t know how much she took in. She was in a lot of shock.’
‘We have to speak to her, though, all together,’ says Fiona.
‘I agree,’ I say. ‘I don’t want Sophie to ever think that what I did wasn’t because I didn’t love her. She must know I wasn’t rejecting her. In fact, it was the complete opposite. It was the only way I could keep her.’
Mum takes Molly out into the garden and occupies her with a tea party for her toys. I can see how much Mum loves Molly. I know how much she loves Sophie. In trying to protect me, she has protected them too; her love as a mother has no boundaries, extending through the generations.
I can hear Fiona talking to Sophie and taking her into the living room. I take a deep breath and pray to God that we get this right as I follow them in.
‘Sophie, there’s something very important that we need to talk to you about,’ says Fiona. Her voice is steady, yet I know inside she’s trembling with fear. It’s a new notion, Fiona being frightened. All my life she has been confident and strong, knowing what to do and how to fix things. To have her uncertain has a ripple effect and I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. The last thing I want is to confuse Sophie. I want her to be one-hundred percent safe with the knowledge that above everything else, she is loved. Fiona continues to speak. ‘After what happened with Roisin, there’s something we need to talk to you about.’
Sophie nods. ‘Okay,’ she says. She fiddles with the iPad in her hand, opening and closing the magnetic catch.
‘You know how much Mummy and Daddy love you, don’t you?’ says Fiona. She waits for her to look up. She smiles. Fiona returns the smile. ‘And you know how much your family love you too. Nanny loves you. Gramps loves you. Erin loves you. All very much.’ Her voice wobbles a touch, but Sophie doesn’t seem to notice. ‘We love you because we are family and family all look after each other.’
‘And some families don’t have mammies or daddies, or grandparents,’ says Sean. ‘Families are all made up differently.’
‘I know. Eamon Donnelly has no father,’ says Sophie. ‘Eamon Donnelly’s mother says his father is a no-good-drunken…’
‘Okay, we don’t need to know that,’ says Sean, hiding the smile on his face. ‘But, yes, some families are different.’
‘And that’s like your family,’ says Fiona. ‘Your family is different.’
Sophie looks back down. She flicks the catch on the iPad a little bit faster. ‘Roisin said my family wasn’t real.’
‘Oh, darling, your family is real,’ says Fiona. ‘It’s very real but…but there are things you don’t yet know about your family.’
Fiona falls into a silence and looks at Sean. Neither knows what to say next. It’s hard for them. It’s hard for all of us. We are about to twist everything Sophie thought she knew about herself. We are going to twist it out of shape and then try to bend it back again, only it won’t ever be quite the same. There will be dents, scratches, marks and scars that will always be testament to how we distorted the truth.
‘When I was younger,’ I say. ‘I had a baby.’
‘That’s what Roisin said,’ says Sophie.
‘Yes, she’s right. I was very young and I was on my own. The baby was a little girl and we all loved her very much, so I asked my family to help look after my baby.’ I let the idea settle. Sophie’s stops fiddling with the iPad now and is looking at me as if she’s going over the words I’ve just spoken and sorting them into some sort of order. ‘I asked your mummy and daddy to help me look after the baby. And because we are all family and we all love each other, which includes the baby, they were delighted to be able to help. That way the baby could grow up with her family and be loved by everyone.’
There’s an uncertain look on Sophie’s face. Sean puts an arm around her shoulder. Fiona looks at me and I nod.
‘Do you think you know who that baby might be?’ asks Fiona. She twiddles her wedding ring round and round on her finger.
Sophie looks uncertain. I sense she knows the answer, but is too scared to say it.
‘That baby,’ I say, my voice catches in my throat and I try again. ‘That baby was you, Sophie.’ Sophie looks at each one of us. She doesn’t know if this is good or bad news. She doesn’t know how to respond, how she’s supposed to respond. ‘Do you understand what we’re saying?’ I probe gently.
‘You’re my mammy?’ she says.
‘That’s right.’
Sophie considers this information. The words weigh heavy in the room. ‘What about Molly? Are you her mammy too?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I’m not Molly’s mummy, but I love her as if I was. The same way I love you. The same way Mummy and Daddy love her and the same way they love you.’
‘What about my daddy?’ says Sophie looking up at Sean.
‘Sean is your daddy, in the same way as Fiona is your mummy,’ I say. ‘But the daddy who I loved when I became pregnant with you, he was killed in a car accident. That’s how I came to be on my own when you were born. And that’s one of the reasons why I couldn’t look after you alone. I needed the help of my family – your family.’
‘Do I have to go and live with you now?’ says Sophie. Her voice is brave, but I can see in her eyes she’s frightened. My heart breaks and mends itself all in one moment.
Living with me is not what she wants. My heart breaks.
Living with her mummy, daddy and her sister is what she does want. My heart mends.
I don’t want to take her away from everything she has known. I don’t want to cause my sister and her husband pain beyond words. I don’t want to break the family. All I’ve ever wanted is to keep the family together and by not keeping Sophie I have managed to do that. We, as a family, have done that. What right am I to ruin the bond we have created?
‘No, darling,’ I say. ‘You don’t have to come and live with me if you don’t want to. You can stay right here with Mummy, Daddy and Molly. You can come and stay with me if you want, the same way Molly can. And if ever in the future you want to do things different
ly,’ I cast a glance at Fiona to make sure I have her blessing. She gives a small smile that tells me I’m doing okay. I turn back to Sophie. ‘If you change your mind, we can sit down again, all of us and talk about it. Just like we’re doing now.’
The relief floods her face and she buries her head against Sean’s arm. Fiona wipes tears away. She passes me a tissue for my own and I’m sure Sean is blinking furiously to stop his from falling.
It takes a few minutes, but we all manage to compose ourselves.
‘There is one other thing,’ says Fiona.
I know what it is. It’s the thorny issue of the Marshall family. We wanted to tell Sophie another day, when she had had time to digest and understand her new family history. But Roisin is intent on telling her mother straight away. We have no choice but to push on now.
Sean sits Sophie up and gives her a reassuring smile. ‘Listen to what your mother has to say.’
‘Your daddy, the young man that Erin had you with, he lived here in Rossway,’ says Fiona. ‘He had a mammy and a daddy and a sister.’
Sophie nods. I don’t think she realises the implications.
‘The thing is, Sophie,’ I say. ‘You know that Nanny is your mummy’s mum, the same way she is my mum. And you know your Nanny Keane is your daddy’s mum.’ Sophie nods. ‘Because you had another daddy, and he had a family, that makes them your family too.’
‘I have a new family?’ says Sophie.
‘That’s right. Another nanny and granddad and another aunty.’
We all watch while she takes in this new information.
‘Is that Roisin’s family?’
‘That’s right. Roisin is your aunty and her mammy and daddy are your nanny and granddad,’ says Sean.
‘I have a big family now,’ she says at last. ‘I’m not sure if I like Roisin.’
‘Well, now, the thing is,’ says Sean, ‘Roisin has been very sad for a long time. Sometimes when you’re that sad, you do things that aren’t very nice. It’s a bit like being unwell. Your mind doesn’t let you behave as you should.’
‘Roisin is unwell?’
‘She was, but she’s going to be okay,’ I say. ‘You may have to give her another chance.’ The words spike at my heart. I feel like a traitor saying such things, but I know for Sophie to move on and accept her new history, she cannot have any negative feelings about the Marshalls. We all have to move past this point for Sophie’s sake if nothing else.
