by Sarah Webb
I hear voices and then a woman shrieking, “Yes, yes, yes!” What on earth is going on in Dad’s house?
Finally he comes back on the line and says, “Amy, I have to go. I’ll ring you back later.”
“What’s happening?”
“You won’t believe this, but a man just arrived at the door, looking for Pauline. Then as soon as he saw her, he dropped to one knee and proposed, right on the doorstep. You probably heard her shrieking yes.”
I gasp. It looks like my Send-Pauline-Packing plan may have worked. “No way!”
“I’d better go, Amy. Shelly looks like she’s in shock. I guess it’s not the ideal way to discover that your mum has a boyfriend.”
OK, that wasn’t part of the plan. “Ring me back as soon as you can, Dad.”
“I will.”
As soon as I click off the phone, Clover pounces. “What’s going on, Beanie?” she demands.
“I think I’d better start at the beginning. You know how much Dad loves living with Pauline . . .”
Clover snorts and rolls her eyes. “Not!”
“Exactly. Well, I decided I’d try to help him get rid of her. And anyway, Pauline’s miserable over here. She misses the sun and Dean, her boyfriend in Portugal. So I sent Dean a message on Facebook, saying how much I, well, Pauline, missed him. I found out her e-mail address and password when I was over at Dad’s place one evening.”
“And?” Clover says impatiently, her eyes wide.
“Dean sent her a lovely message back and a poem he’d written for her called ‘My Achy-Breaky Heart Belongs to Pauline.’ I waited for a few days to see if she’d reply, but she didn’t. She mustn’t have spotted the message and I didn’t want him to think she’d changed her mind or anything . . .”
The edges of Clover’s mouth twitch. She clutches my arm. “Please put me out of my misery. Tell me you sent him a poem back, something really smoochy.”
My cheeks flare guiltily.
Clover hoots with laughter. “Beanie, you so did! Coola boola. What was it, Shakespeare?” Her eyes are twinkling.
How did she guess? “Yes. I sent him one of Shakespeare’s sonnets about ‘the marriage of true minds,’ and a poem by a man called Robert Burns about love being like ‘a red, red rose.’”
“Ha! Good woman. And don’t tell me, Dean is at your dad’s house now, looking for Pauline.”
“He’s gone one better! He just proposed to her, right on the doorstep.” My mobile rings again. “Hang on. It’s Dad again.”
“Amy, are you there?” Dad sounds in a bit of a state.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Has Pauline decided to stay in Ireland?”
“No, she’s going back to Portugal with Dean. He’s already booked them both on a flight this evening. He says he has to get back right away to keep an eye on his pub. No, it’s Shelly.”
“Is she upset about Dean?”
“No, in fact she’s excited for her mum about that. She’s a bit shocked, of course, but she says she’s thrilled to see her mum so happy. It was when she realized that Pauline was leaving immediately that she got upset. I think she blames me. She says if I’d made Pauline feel more welcome, she might stay a bit longer and help with Gracie. Shelly says she can’t cope without her mum because I’m so hopeless at baby stuff and I’m always at work and she’s exhausted from doing everything by herself. I’ve tried to explain that maybe I’d be more inclined to come home early if Pauline wasn’t around all the time, but she just stormed off. She’s even talking about going to live in Portugal with Pauline and taking Gracie with her. And I think she’s serious.”
Yikes, I hadn’t anticipated that!
“And now Shelly’s shut herself in our bedroom,” Dad goes on, “and she won’t talk to me. From the noise inside, I think she’s packing. What am I going to do, Amy? I’ll die without Shelly and Gracie. They’re my life.” I’ve never heard him so upset.
My stomach sinks into my Converses and I start to feel a little faint. What have I done? I was trying to get rid of Pauline, not Shelly.
“Dad, we’re just going into the tunnel,” I say, trying not to sound as panicked as I feel. “Can you hear me? . . . . No signal . . . Ring you back.” And then I cut him off.
Clover is staring at me. “Tunnel, Beanie? What tunnel? What’s going on now? You look like you’ve seen a banshee.”
“I’m in troublesville, Clover. Deep, deep merde. Shelly’s talking about moving to Portugal with Pauline and taking Gracie with her!”
“What! She can’t do that. Dublin is Gracie’s home. And Shelly’s crazy about Art. Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. But I have to do something, Clover. I have to help Dad. He can’t lose Shelly and Gracie, he just can’t.” My heart is hammering in my chest.
Clover says nothing for a few minutes. Then she pats my hand. “We’re not going to let that happen, Beanie. Don’t you worry, we’ll think of something.”
Dad is so relieved to see us on the doorstep, he nearly weeps. “Please tell me you’ve come to talk Shelly around,” he says in a low voice. His face is gray, and I’ve never seen him look so worried.
Clover nods. “Yes. If we can.”
“Thank God. If I lose my girls, I don’t know what I’ll do. Please do everything you can to make Shelly understand, OK? If she’ll only talk to me . . .”
And for the first time ever, Clover gives him a hug. “We’ll do our best, Art. But if we manage to get Shelly to speak to you, you have to promise to be a better dad to both Amy and Gracie.”
“And Shelly’s right. You do have to help with Gracie more, Dad,” I add. “Where is Gracie, anyway? Is she OK?”
“She’s fine,” Dad says. “Dean’s giving her a bottle. He’s very good with babies, despite all the tattoos. Pauline’s upstairs packing.”
Clover smiles gently. “I can’t wait to meet this Dean dude, but first Shelly. We’ll do what we can, Art, OK? Promise.”
Dad nods, his face still ashen.
I follow Clover up the stairs. Clover knocks on Dad and Shelly’s bedroom door, and we both listen carefully. Nothing. She tries again. “It’s Clover and Amy, Shelly,” she says. “Can we come in?”
Silence.
“Please?” I say. “It’s important.”
The door opens a crack, and Shelly’s blotchy face appears. “I know your dad sent you, Amy, and you can tell him, nice try but it’s too late,” she says, her voice cracked and breathy from crying. “My mind’s made up. I can’t look after Gracie on my own. I’m scared I’ll do something wrong. I had no idea babies were so difficult. And Art’s no use. If Mum leaves, I’ll have no one to ask about rashes and coughs and teething and stuff. I can’t do it alone, so I’m going to stay with Mum in Portugal until . . . until . . .” She starts crying. “I’m sorry, Amy. Really I am.”
“Won’t you just talk to Dad?” I beg.
“No. I have to go now.” And the door shuts.
Clover and I look at each other. “What now?” I ask.
“There’s only one person who is going to change Shelly’s mind,” she says in a low voice. “And that’s Pauline. We have no other option.”
I wince. “I wish it wasn’t true, Clover, but you’re right. Let’s do it now before we chicken out.”
Clover crosses herself and starts walking up the small flight of stairs toward Pauline’s room. This time when Clover knocks, the door swings open immediately.
“Yes?” Pauline looks at us suspiciously.
“Can we talk to you, Pauline?” Clover says. “In private.”
“About what?”
“Well, we want to congratulate you on your engagement, don’t we, Amy?” Clover looks at me pointedly.
“Oh, yes, of course,” I say. “Congratulations, Pauline. I hope you and Dean will be very happy together.”
Pauline’s eyes soften a little. “It is rather wonderful. Look!” She holds up her ring finger proudly. A massive diamond twinkles in the light.
“A
nd you must be excited about going back to Portugal,” Clover continues.
“Yes,” Pauline says. “I can’t wait. Dublin can be dreadfully wet and gray. I miss the sun so much.”
“And I believe Shelly is considering joining you,” Clover says carefully. “With Gracie. Do you really think that’s such a good idea?”
Pauline shrugs. “If it’s what my daughter wants, I can’t stop her. Art’s hardly much help, and she does need backup with Grace.”
“He wants to help more,” I say. “He’s just not a baby person. Mum said he was exactly the same when I was little. As Gracie gets older, he’ll get better.”
Pauline snorts. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that? Art Green is selfish to the core. He’s always working late or playing golf.”
“Because he wants to get out of the house,” I say with force. “He hates coming home because you’re here.”
Pauline gasps. “You can’t talk to me like that. And that’s not true.”
“It is true,” I say. “You’re always picking holes in him in front of Shelly. He’s been working late to avoid you. And they can’t do stuff together like they used to ’cause you’re always hanging around.”
“I never meant to get in the way.” Pauline sniffs. “But it’s too late now. Shelly’s made her decision, and that’s that.”
“You can’t let this happen,” I say. “Pauline, please listen to me. It’s not right. Gracie deserves a full-time dad, and he really does love her. Gracie and Shelly are his life — he said that himself. OK, so he’s not a baby person, but when Gracie is older, he’ll be brilliant. From when I was about four until, well, until he left, he used to take me to the zoo or swimming or to the movies every Saturday afternoon. ‘Amy-and-Daddy time,’ we used to call it. We had so much fun together. And I still love him, even though I don’t see him all that much. And what about Gracie, doesn’t she count? It feels like I’m the only one sticking up for what she needs. And she needs her mum and her dad.”
“Amy’s right,” Clover says. “Gracie needs both her parents. And Shelly is crazy about Art, you know she is. Leaving him will break her heart. And I’ve never seen Art so distraught about anything before. I think he genuinely loves Shelly. You have to do something, Pauline. Shelly will listen to you. Please?”
Pauline is quiet for a few moments, just standing there, staring down at her engagement ring and twisting it around and around on her finger. “Shelly was mad about her dad,” she says finally. “He was a lovely man. Really lovely. He died when Shelly was eight. Heart attack. Dreadfully sad. I think she still misses him. Amy, your father is lucky to have you. I’m sorry if I’ve given you a hard time. But you don’t make it easy to like you. You can be quite rude, you know. Quite the little madam.”
I’m dying to say something back to this, but I bite my tongue.
“But it’s obvious that you love your dad and your little half sister,” Pauline continues.
“Sister!” I say.
“Sorry, sister. I’ll talk to Shelly, but I’m not promising anything. And in exchange you have to do something for me, both of you. My Shelly can be a bit of a worrywart sometimes and a bit ditzy. If she decides to stay in Dublin, I’d like you to keep an eye on her for me. Will you do that?”
Clover looks at me and I nod.
“Of course,” I say. “Tell Shelly to ring me if she’s worried about Gracie. I’m good with babies. And she can always ask Dave for advice too. Dave’s a nurse — remember? You met him at Gracie’s christening — and I’m sure he’d be happy to help. I can give Shelly his mobile number.”
“That’s a brilliant idea, Beanie,” Clover says. “You have such smarts sometimes.”
“That would be reassuring for Shelly, I’m sure,” Pauline says, and she actually smiles at me, a proper smile that makes her eyes twinkle.
When we go back downstairs, leaving Pauline to try to talk Shelly around, Dad is sitting at the kitchen table, Gracie cradled in his lap. I realize with a start that it’s the first time I’ve seen him holding Gracie on his knee.
“Well?” he says as soon as we walk in.
“Pauline’s talking to Shelly,” I say. “Now we just have to wait. Where’s Dean?”
“Taking a phone call in the sitting room.” Dad strokes Gracie’s soft baby hair. “Oh, Gracie, if your mum gives me a second chance, I’m going to be the best dad ever, I swear.”
Ten minutes later, Pauline walks into the kitchen and we all look at her hopefully.
“Shelly says she’ll stay as long as you help out more, Art,” she says to Dad. “A lot more. And I’ve told her that I’ll stay in Dublin for another two weeks and help her to find a part-time nanny so that she gets a break from Gracie when you’re at work. And she’d love Dave’s mobile number, if that’s OK, Amy. She said that would really put her mind at rest.”
“Dave?” Dad says, looking a little surprised.
“If Gracie is sick and Shelly’s worried, she can ring him for advice,” I explain.
Dad smiles at me. “Amy, you’re one smart cookie. And Pauline, I, er, well, I’m, uh . . .”
“I think the word is ‘thanks,’ Dad,” I say.
Dad looks sheepish. “I was actually going to say I’m sorry. I know we’ve had our differences, Pauline, but I hope we can put them all behind us now and be one big happy family.”
Pauline doesn’t look convinced. “If you mess up or upset my daughter in any way, Art Green, I’ll be on the next flight back from Portugal. Understand?”
Dad gulps. “Yes, Pauline.”
A tall, burly man with a mahogany tan walks into the room. It’s Dean. I recognize him from the Facebook photos. His tattoos, swirling Celtic patterns like black snakes on both lower arms, are even more impressive in real life. He’s completely bald, with a big beer belly stretching against his Manchester United top — not at all the kind of guy I would have pictured Pauline going for, but it just goes to show, wrinklies are very odd, indeed. As soon as she spots him, Pauline’s eyes light up.
“Dean, I’d like you to meet Amy and Clover,” she says, still beaming at him. “Amy is Art’s eldest daughter and Grace’s sister. Clover is Amy’s aunt.”
“Pleased to meet you both.” Dean grins and shakes our hands warmly, and, boy, does he have a firm handshake!
Gracie starts to fuss. Her cheeks have gone bright red and she’s dribbling a lot. Dad looks a little nervous. “Will you hold her, Amy? I think there’s something wrong with her.”
“It’s just her teeth, Dad, remember? Mum keeps special soothers in the fridge for Evie to chew on. You could buy some at the pharmacy.”
“OK, I’ll do that. I’ll just go up and see Shelly first. Will one of you take Gracie for me?” He looks around the room.
“No, Dad,” I say. “Take Gracie with you. It will show Shelly that you mean what you’ve promised about helping out with her more.”
Dad nods. “Good idea. And I know it’s silly, Amy, but I’m kind of nervous. What should I say to her?”
“Just tell her what you told me, about how much you love her and Gracie. And that you’ll try to help more and stuff. You’ll be fine.”
His eyes well up. “Thank you, Amy. I don’t deserve you.”
Clover rolls her eyes. “Holy Moly, guys, it’s all getting a bit Oprah in here. I, for one, am starving. I could murder a pepperoni pizza. Let’s get takeout. Oh, and it’s on you, Art. Hand over your credit card.”
“It’s the least you can do, Art,” Pauline adds firmly. “Hand it over.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dad jokes, clicking his heels together.
I look at Pauline, hoping that she won’t take offense, but she just laughs. Clover and I dissolve into fits of giggles. And after the last few hours, boy, does it feel good to be laughing again!
On Wednesday evening, Mum calls up the stairs, “Amy, surprise visitor for you.”
I think for a second. It can’t be Mills, as she’s still not talking to me, and it’s unlikely that Seth wo
uld stop in at nine p.m., so it must be Clover. I bound down the stairs. Clover always cheers me up, no matter how rotten I’m feeling, and as I’ve had a lousy day at school, I could really do with a pick-me-up. But halfway down the stairs I see that it isn’t Clover standing in the hall with Mum. It’s Claire Starr!
“Hi, stranger,” she calls up at me. “Long time no see — not.” She gives a big, happy laugh.
“Claire! What are you doing here?” I ask as, to my surprise, she gives me a warm hug. Her hair smells of chocolate muffins. Her mum’s obviously been baking in honor of her homecoming.
“Why don’t you guys go into the sitting room?” Mum suggests. “That way you won’t wake up the babies.”
“Sorry, Sylvie, I know it’s late to visit.” Claire looks a bit embarrassed.
“Not at all,” Mum reassures her. “You’re always welcome here, Claire, honest. But if Alex hears you, he’ll be down like a shot. He’s one very nosy toddler.”
“I get you,” Claire says. “And I’d love to meet the kids at some stage.”
“Anytime, Claire,” Mum says. “But wear clothes you can wipe clean.”
Claire laughs again, probably thinking Mum’s joking, and Mum goes off into the kitchen.
“Your mum looks well,” Claire says as we sit down on the sofa in the living room.
“I guess. When did you get here?”
“This afternoon. The rest of the company is flying in tomorrow, but I wanted to spend some time with Mum and Dad before the show kicks off and things start to get really hectic. I’m going to try to get back more often from now on too. I know I’ve been neglecting everyone in Dublin. Hanging out with you and Clover in Budapest was so much fun. It made me realize how much I’ve missed home. And thanks for hooking me up with Ethel. She rang me to say good luck with the show, and we chatted for ages. Olga Varga wished me luck — well, merde, actually. Imagine. I’m going to dance my socks off, for her and for myself. In fact, I’m dying to get on that stage and show everyone what I can do. I’m going to be the best Juliet the critics have ever seen.”
I laugh. “And you’re so modest too, Claire.”
