‘I’m here to help, Erin – that’s my job.’
Erin told her about the lack of response to her letter.
‘Erin, put yourself in Kate’s shoes. She’s spent twenty-six years trying to forget about a child she gave up, put the guilt and the shame and the tragedy of it behind her and create a new life for herself. Can you imagine the turmoil such a letter creates? First the relief to discover that you are well and healthy and happy and have had the good life she wanted for you, and then the dismay and worry – especially if she has not told her husband and family – that the life she has created will be destroyed, and that she will be a disappointment to you and not what you expected.’
‘I see.’ Erin hadn’t considered the implications for Kate of her initiating contact and the panic it would cause. ‘Maybe I should never have written to her.’
‘No, Erin, the letter you sent is important. Kate will realize that and get comfort from it, but it may take time for her to be able to respond to you. So try to be a bit more patient.’
Erin smiled. Her dad was always saying that she was in a rush about everything and needed to slow down a bit!
She found herself telling Sheila things she had never told anyone before. Erin had first learned when she was about five that she was adopted. She hadn’t really understood about it until her mum and dad had sat her down and explained it more when she was nearly eight. There never had been any problems at home talking about it openly with her mum and dad and brother and the rest of the family. But so much of what she had felt about being adopted she had buried deep inside her, not wanting to hurt or upset them. The immense sense of rejection, of fear, of absolute terror that something would happen to her mum and dad; then the crazy belief when she was small that her real mother must secretly be a film star, an actress, a writer or somebody famous or special who had a very valid reason for not being able to keep her. Then when she became a teenager she had swung to the opposite end of the pendulum, suspecting every drunk, drug addict, tart or homeless woman she saw of being her mother. She searched their faces as she passed them on the street to see if there was any recognition. She had felt secretly worthless and ashamed, though she had done nothing; but gradually it had passed and she had developed her own sense of worth and strength and begun to feel really good about herself, which was unexpected. She was lucky to have wonderful parents, friends and family whom she loved, but she had finally learned to love herself too.
‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes,’ she laughed, realizing that she was. She had an immense capacity for happiness, wherever it had come from.
‘That’s very good to hear,’ smiled Sheila. ‘The ability to be happy is a gift. Try to remember that, and whether you hear back from Kate or not you know that you have done your best at this stage to make contact with your birth mother. Be happy for the life you have!’
‘I am,’ said Erin, realizing how much she really meant it.
‘You may never get a response from Kate,’ cautioned Sheila, ‘but I’m afraid you will have to respect her decision.’
‘I will,’ promised Erin, trying to accept the fact that there was every likelihood that her birth mother still wanted to forget she existed.
Chapter Fifteen
KATE TURNED AROUND in front of the mirror. The new red dress she had bought in Zara looked great. She’d added a black wrap cardigan and black heels and was really pleased with the results.
‘You look really well,’ said Paddy approvingly, pulling her into his arms. ‘I’m glad that you are over that old virus thing you caught.’
‘So am I,’ she smiled. ‘I’m feeling much better and looking forward to dinner tonight.’
For the past few years Paddy and Kate had had a routine of going out on their own for a midweek dinner to one of the nearby restaurants. Running an off-licence business meant that Paddy often worked late at the weekends, with only every second Saturday off. So they had got accustomed to having a dinner together on a Wednesday night, away from kids and work and worries. The kids were older now, but they had kept up the routine and both enjoyed it.
‘I booked us a table at The Kish,’ said Paddy.
Kate loved the fish restaurant, which was literally perched on the pier in Howth and served the fish of the day that had just come in off the boats. They had a table at the window overlooking the busy fishing harbour.
‘What are you going to have?’ Paddy asked as he buried himself in the wine list.
‘Well, I’ll go for what’s up on the board for tonight,’ she replied. ‘The hake sounds good and they have that yummy chilli prawn thing to start.’
‘I’ll have the seafood pâté and the mussels. They have that new Sancerre I was telling you about – will we give it a try?’
Kate laughed every time they went to a restaurant. Paddy always went through the wine list and if he found something new and good, he might stock it in the shop. God knows how many wines she’d tested over all the years of their marriage … She watched as he chatted to the wine waiter, Hans, who had become a friend by this stage, the two of them discussing the merits of one new Bordeaux compared to another.
‘I’ll bring you and Kate a glass to try,’ offered Hans.
Kate was feeling so relieved. She had sent a letter to Erin via the adoption agency and hopefully that was an end to the whole thing. She really did sincerely wish only good things for her daughter, but too much time had gone by for either of them to be a part of the other’s life. The past was the past, and it was far better it stay that way. She had, however, at the last minute had a bit of a rethink and said that she might consider meeting her once, but only if their privacy and discretion could be maintained.
She looked across at Paddy. He was a good person. He had absolutely no idea of what had happened to her and she never intended telling him. She had known him for years, as he had gone to school with her brother John and had grown up on a farm less than eight miles from where she had grown up. She had met him at a Galway–Kilkenny hurling match in the old stadium at Croke Park, which Sally and Mike had dragged her along to. Poor Paddy had injured his foot playing hurling and was hobbling around on crutches with a sprained ankle, and the two of them sat down and talked for ages in a nearby pub afterwards.
He’d asked her out the following Sunday and she, lonely as hell, had agreed to go on a date with him. Paddy Cassidy was nothing like her former boyfriend, Johnny. He was old fashioned and dependable and kind and made her laugh. He was a good bit taller than her and sturdily built, his hair fair, and he had kind eyes that somehow seemed to calm her. His parents, Larry and Nance, were a lovely couple, and he came from a family even bigger than her own. Paddy worked in O’Hara’s, a large city-centre pub.
As the months passed they had got closer; she had begun to rely on him more and more and look forward to being with him. Sally had worried that she was only going out with him on the rebound from Johnny, and maybe she was at first – Paddy the substitute, second best in the boyfriend stakes. But as the months passed that had changed; Paddy had become more and more important to her and she had realized that she loved and trusted him, and that he loved her too. His proposal had come out of the blue and Kate had surprised herself by accepting him. She had insisted on a smallish wedding in a Galway hotel with only sixty present, which included both families, a handful of friends and some of Paddy’s hurling team. Her dad had given her away and on that day she had wished desperately that her mother was still alive to be with her.
They had gone to Italy on their honeymoon and she had conceived straight away, their son Sean born the following June. Holding her newborn baby in the maternity hospital she had debated telling Paddy about Anna, but knew that it would break his heart as he boasted about their firstborn and what a wonderful mother she was. And so she had kept her secret – hidden it away, buried her feelings again as their second son Kevin and then finally Aisling were born.
Paddy had moved to managing a pub in Clontarf with a small off-licence
business attached to it. Seeing the potential to develop a business of his own, four years later he had taken out a loan from the bank, bought an old hairdresser’s premises on a busy crescent of shops and converted it to Cassidy’s Off-Licence, selling wines and spirits and beer. He was a Trojan worker and passionate about sourcing good wines at competitive prices for his customers.
Between the business and raising three children, time just seemed to have slipped by – almost twenty-five years of it, and Kate had nearly managed to forget what she had done …
‘What do you think of this Sancerre?’ he asked her.
‘It’s lovely, far nicer than the one we had last time,’ she said, taking another sip from her glass. She was no wine expert, but they did have fun as Paddy tried to develop her palate.
For their anniversary present she planned to surprise her husband and take him to Bordeaux for one night in beautiful St-Emilion, then two nights at the renowned Château Beychevelle in St-Julien. It was a trip she knew he’d really enjoy.
‘Kate, did you have any more time to go through the list I gave you for the party?’ Paddy asked as they were served their main courses.
‘Yes, I was showing it to Trish and she was wondering how we will possibly fit everyone in the house!’
‘I know it’s a bit of a crowd, but we are both from big families and we cannot leave out our friends,’ he said, serious. ‘The alternative to having it at home is to go to one of the big local hotels or the golf club or somewhere like that.’
‘I don’t want a party in a big function room,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’m not sure that I want a party at all.’
‘But we have to celebrate twenty-five years of a good marriage,’ he said firmly. ‘A marriage built on love and respect, honesty and truth, and friendship.’
Kate reddened. They had a good marriage, yes, but she hadn’t been honest and she never would be able to tell him the truth about what had happened before she married him.
‘What about if we put a gazebo thing up in the garden?’ he continued. ‘It might give us a bit more space.’
Kate laughed. Paddy was determined to have this party and there was no stopping him. Once her husband got a notion about something he rarely gave up.
‘Get a gazebo if you want, Paddy!’ she smiled. ‘With it we might just be able to squash everyone in!’
Chapter Sixteen
DISAPPOINTED, ERIN HAD almost given up any hope of hearing back from her birth mother when, almost four and half weeks later, a letter arrived from Kate. Erin shook from top to toe as she read it and burst into tears. Her birth mother was real, she existed – she had the proof in her hands – and she was finally acknowledging her. Erin read the letter over and over again, studying the handwriting, the paper, the language …
Kate Flanagan was married now with three children: two sons and a younger daughter. She hadn’t told their names, but gave their ages – twenty-three, nineteen and sixteen. Kate worked part time in a family business. She had never told her husband about giving birth to a child and did not want this information revealed. She was happy to hear from Erin and comforted to know that she had grown up in such a good family, as it proved that she had made the right choice for her. She was proud of Erin’s accomplishments in going to college and getting a degree. She herself had gone to a business college but unfortunately had been unable to finish her diploma. She liked music and cinema and fashion and had a cat called Cleo.
If she agreed to Erin’s request to meet, Kate insisted that it be some place neutral and away from her own home and locality. She was adamant about protecting her privacy and family life.
Erin couldn’t believe it. There was a possibility that she was going to meet Kate – see her face to face, be able to talk to her finally … It was unbelievable!
She phoned Marian Kelly, and rang Sheila too. Marian would act as a go-between, arranging the time and place Kate and Erin would meet. She refused to be drawn as to where Kate would be coming from, not wanting to reveal where she lived or even her married name.
‘If she wants to tell you these things, it is up to Kate to tell you herself,’ Marian reminded Erin. ‘But remember, you also need to protect your own privacy.’
As Marian made the arrangements for them to meet in a neutral venue, Erin couldn’t believe it. She was going to meet her birth mother next week in the centre of Dublin, in a little café just off Dawson Street at twelve o’clock on Saturday morning … It was nerve-wracking, but she couldn’t wait!
Chapter Seventeen
ERIN STUDIED THE text from her uncle bill inviting her to join him for lunch in his club. She smiled and texted him back immediately. She loved her uncle and being invited for lunch at the inner sanctum of the dining room of the St Stephen’s Green Club was a treat.
Ever since she was a little girl, her uncle had played a big part in her life. He always used to bring Jack and herself on all kinds of outings, to the cinema, the Christmas pantomime at the Gaiety Theatre, concerts in the Concert Hall, and to play in the big playground in Herbert Park, which was only a few minutes’ walk from the Donnybrook house where he and Charles lived. Now she was grown up there were visits to art galleries and theatre nights and jazz nights and meals together, which she really enjoyed.
The club was quiet and the waiter led her to where her uncle was sitting at a table in the window.
‘Hello, Erin darling, how are you?’ he asked, standing up to greet her. He really was such a sweetheart and one of the kindest people she knew. He had no children of his own, but was so good to all his nieces and nephews and had time for them all.
‘I’m fine, Uncle Bill,’ she said, kissing him.
He looked handsome as ever in his navy blazer, crisp white shirt and red-and-navy tie.
The waiter came over to take their order.
‘Wine?’ suggested her uncle.
‘Not for me, thanks. I’m working on a new logo for someone this afternoon and wine and drawing, I’ve discovered, do not really work,’ she laughed, ordering fizzy water instead while her uncle went for a glass of red wine.
She always enjoyed his company and listened as he told her about the trip to Bilbao, San Sebastián and Santander that he and Charles were planning. Her uncle and his partner Charles seemed to have been together for ever and were a great couple.
‘Your dad and I were out sailing last week,’ he said as the waiter served their main course. ‘Tom told me that you are planning to meet your birth mother very soon – that it is all arranged.’
‘Yes, the social worker for the adoption agency has set it all up,’ she confirmed. ‘I’m very nervous about it, Uncle Bill – I really am!’
‘Of course you are,’ he said soothingly. ‘Heaven knows what the outcome might be! You and your birth mother might be very alike and get on splendidly, or you may realize that you have very little in common and that you are both just satisfying your curiosity.’
‘Exactly,’ Erin said, admitting her own fears. Trust Uncle Bill to put it so succinctly! No wonder he was such a successful barrister. He always had a way of getting straight to the crux of a matter.
‘I’m not trying to influence your meeting with this woman,’ he said gently, ‘but I do feel I need to let you know how your parents are feeling about it.’
‘Mum and Dad are fine,’ she said defensively.
‘Is that what you really believe?’ he asked, putting down his knife and fork and looking her straight in the eye, which was always disconcerting.
Erin blushed. ‘They’re upset?’
‘To put it mildly,’ he said. ‘Tom is distracted, worried for you that this person will let you down or, even worse, take you away from them.’
‘That would never happen!’ she protested. ‘You know that, Uncle Bill!’
Her uncle shrugged. ‘And apparently Nina is not sleeping … awake until all hours. She’s convinced that you and your long-lost mother will fall into each other’s arms, and then she will become redundant. That you will fi
nd your own new family and no longer be a part of ours.’
‘God, how could they think that, Uncle Bill? They’re my mum and dad and that will never, ever change. They’re the ones I love and no one can take that away!’
‘I know,’ he said, ‘but it is how they both feel and you need to be aware of it, Erin. You’ve probably been so caught up with tracing your past and arranging to meet your birth mother and focusing on that, that maybe Nina and Tom’s feelings have escaped your notice.’
‘Uncle Bill, thank you for telling me,’ she said. ‘I guess that I’ve been so obsessed about this that I haven’t thought properly about Mum and Dad’s reactions.’
‘I remember a long time ago when I was about your age I was caught up in something too – pretty self-obsessed about it,’ he said as the pudding was served. ‘I decided the time had come to tell my parents about being gay. Your dad and my sister Caroline and a few close friends had already guessed, but I don’t think they genuinely realized. My father – your grandfather Gerald – was a very old-fashioned type of man with very strong moral values. I still remember the absolute denial in his eyes when I told him. No son of his was going to be a homosexual! That’s all he kept saying. My poor mum didn’t say a word because she was too busy weeping. Nothing was the same after that – I had changed everything between us in my quest to come out and be honest with them. I was focusing so much on what my agenda was that, in hindsight, I had very little regard for their feelings.’
‘And what happened then?’ asked Erin.
‘Well, I suppose they both tried to make the best of it. My dad and I were never really as close afterwards. I always felt that I had let him down as a son. We met, we were polite, but something had disappeared between us.’
‘What about Granny?’
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