by Sharon Owens
She had to be vague when she was talking to Kate about romance. She couldn’t say that they had already carried out Shirley’s fantasy of kissing in the rain until their clothes were soaked through. (Kate would think she was crazy.) Or that Declan had told her he wanted them to be together for ever. (He wasn’t commitment-phobic, as so many men seemed to be these days.) Or that his skin was soft and clean and smelt of aftershave and toast. Or that the first time they slept together was very uncomfortable for Shirley. (That was to be expected.) But that after that, it was wonderful. He was a gentle lover, who kissed her shoulders and her face tenderly before, and after, they went to bed together. And now, it just felt so right, lying in his arms and falling asleep beside his deliciously warm body. The closeness of sleeping together was almost more special than making love. Sometimes, they stayed under the warm blankets all afternoon, drinking tea and eating biscuits, and gossiping about their friends and families. Poor Kate had never felt any of these things and so Shirley kept the depth of her new love a secret. Some things just had to remain private.
And then Shirley was writing her Christmas cards on the fifteenth of December, and wondering what the last day for posting was, and the thought suddenly came to her that she couldn’t remember the date of her last period. She was determined to be calm as she got out her diary and flicked through the pages. Five weeks! What with the Christmas preparations, she’d forgotten all about it. She didn’t breathe for about three minutes when the realization finally dawned on her. She’d never been late before. Not even when she was worried about important exams or a lack of money or the death of a close relative. Shirley put on a warm coat and walked to a chemist shop, well away from her own neighbourhood. She bought the pregnancy testing kit in a matter-of-fact way, as if she was buying it for someone else. When the friendly assistant told her it was the most accurate brand on the market, she said she would pass on the advice, thank you very much. She kept the little carton in the bottom of her wardrobe, hidden in a shoebox, for three whole days. Waiting and praying for her period to come. But it didn’t.
And then she carried out the test. Such a simple and straightforward test, it was hard to believe it could really tell Shirley if her whole life was about to go into free fall. She checked the instructions over and over again, to make sure there would be no mistakes when the result came through. And of course, it was positive. She was pregnant. She was going to have a baby! She was so shocked, she couldn’t even laugh or cry or panic or feel anything. Time stood still. She tensed up completely, waiting for the sky to fall down heavily on her head. But amazingly, nothing at all happened. Nothing. She ate her supper with her family and they didn’t even comment that her face was tight with tension or that she ate nothing and drank six cups of tea. She lay awake that night, so numb it was frightening, just looking up at the moon. Have I ruined everything, she wondered. Will Declan change his mind about me? Will my father have a heart attack? Will my mother chop down a tree on the avenue, fashion a rudimentary cross with it and quite literally crucify me? Will I end up in a hovel somewhere, living on economy cornflakes, with a greasy ponytail and wearing the same cheap anorak for the rest of my days?
Finally it was Christmas Eve. Shirley hadn’t told anyone her news. Not her family, not her friends, not even Declan. She couldn’t tell them, until she could come to terms with it herself. She refused to contemplate ending the pregnancy, that was all she knew for certain. It wasn’t the baby’s fault that she had been such an idiot. The baby was the only person in all of this that was pure and precious and blameless and innocent. And so, although she was tempted to go to London and book herself into a private clinic, like Kevin’s mother and her varicose veins, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life. She’d read all the magazine articles about how some women were suicidal for years afterwards, half mad with grief and regret. This will pass, she told herself, a hundred times a day, like a recovering alcoholic. This will pass. All the same, she knew that it was going to be a bumpy ride until things quietened down again. She felt nauseous at the thought of it. Or was that the morning sickness starting already?
It was going to be so hard to deal with her mother’s religious rants, her father’s inevitable withdrawal to the shed, Declan’s possible desertion, and Kate’s smug lectures on birth control. So, she said nothing. And life went on as normal. Mr and Mrs Winters fussed over the food supplies, debating for hours about whether they should buy a posh and trendy fresh turkey or a good old-fashioned frozen one. In the end, they bought both. A cheaper frozen one for Christmas Day, and an expensive fresh one for the following day. They wanted to impress Kevin and Declan, who had both been invited for dinner. Mrs Winters had somehow got her ideas all mixed up and decided that Thanksgiving in America, and being middle-class in general, meant that nothing else but a fresh turkey would do when guests were invited to the house. And fresh cranberry sauce had to be made as well. The glass jar from the supermarket had been hidden at the back of the larder, along with the box of dehydrated stuffing mix and the cheap crepe-paper crackers. Mr Winters complained that such rampant snobbery would have him bankrupted, and that if any of the neighbours found out they had paid twenty pounds for a box of crackers, they would call the nearest mental hospital, and have them both committed right away.
‘We’re two-up, two-down people,’ he kept saying. Which was incorrect, since they had three bedrooms. (Well, two, and a very small boxroom.)
Shirley was kneeling on the floor of the boxroom, after lunch on Christmas Eve, wrapping her gift for Declan. After much deliberation, she had bought him a lovely pair of real leather gloves. (Probably some subconscious jab at him for not being careful enough with the condoms.) She tucked the corners of the parcel in neatly, and stuck a big blue bow on the top. Then, she fetched the matching gift-tag from the carrier bag and wrote love from Shirley on it. She had bought her mother perfume, aftershave for her father and a glittery handbag for Kate. (Even though she didn’t need it or deserve it.) But anyway. Shirley was going to enjoy Christmas. She’d promised herself that. She’d revel in every traditional minute of it; eat lots of sweets and sandwiches, watch television until her eyes dried up, and then deal with the fallout from the pregnancy in the dismal anticlimax that was January.
The little bedroom became dark and when Shirley got up to switch on her bedside lamp, she saw the reason for the lack of light in the sky. As if the Christmas fairy had arranged it, it had begun to snow. Big fat clusters of dry snowflakes came scurrying down from the grey sky. At first, there were just a few, and then more and more began to fall until Shirley could barely see the houses on the other side of the street. Shirley was delighted to note that the snow was not melting on the ground, but piling up in corners as if it intended to hang around for a few days. A little bubble of excitement burst in her heart. She would get to kiss Declan in a new weather situation! Bliss. For a moment she even forgot about the baby.
She felt sorry for Kate, then, as she watched the fat flakes swirling past her windowpane. It must be very lonely for Kate, having no boyfriend at Christmas time. Shirley had been very sensitive over the last few weeks, deliberately not telling her sister how fabulous her new romance was. And now she resolved not to talk about Declan when she watched television with Kate later that evening. She was afraid she might let something slip about the baby. So they watched cartoons and munched their way through two jumbo selection boxes, and gossiped about harmless things. Shirley told her sister that Alex Stone was now dating Louise Lowry. He’d been found guilty in the court case but let off with a small fine. To celebrate, he’d spent the night dancing with Louise in Hogan’s ballroom. As an ordinary customer. Kate was jealous, but not jealous enough to do anything about it. If Louise wanted him, she could have him. For a girl who spent her days surrounded by jelly frogs and sugar mice, Alex was probably an improvement. Just about.
‘Do you fancy Kevin a little bit, even? I really think he would be good for you,’ ventured Shirley the next day.
/> They were peeling vegetables in the tiny kitchen, giving their mother a day off the chores. The turkey was safely in the oven, the stuffing was ready in a separate dish, and the entire house had been scrubbed and polished until it was practically sterile. Mr and Mrs Winters had set off for midday Mass in great spirits, holding hands like teenagers. Mrs Winters was wearing the new coat her husband had bought her. And he was wearing the new boots that she had bought for him. Their squabbles over Kate’s future had been forgotten. Kate was working again, and Shirley had a boyfriend, so the longed-for grandchildren could not be ruled out after all. In the long term, of course.
Kate shrugged her shoulders. The truth was, she had already kissed Kevin, twice, on the new, lime-green velvet sofa in the coffee area at the garage. Just to see if her libido had returned. It hadn’t. And to see if Kevin still fancied her. He did. And they’d had a bit of a cuddle as well. And it hadn’t been too bad. In fact, the second time, Kevin had taken off his oily overalls beforehand and it had been quite pleasant. He looked almost handsome in his blue jeans and a crisp white T-shirt. Purely in the interests of romantic research, Kate had kissed Kevin as passionately as she could. A little bit of heavy breathing, for effect, and a quick run of her fingers through his hair. He was absolutely thrilled, and caressed her back so much with his big, strong hands that it warmed up considerably; she could have fried an egg on it. Kate threw caution to the winds then, and undid a few buttons on her new red cardigan, to reveal a matching bra underneath. The contents of the red bra put in an appearance for a couple of minutes and Kevin could barely restrain himself. He said, ‘My God!’ seven times and touched the magnificent mounds with his eyes closed. And then with his eyes open. And then closed, again. And then he leapt up off the sofa and put the overalls back on, and stumbled down the stairs to the half-stripped car engines. Kate was very pleased that she still had the power to get men hot under the collar. She buttoned up her cardigan, boiled the kettle and brought him down a mug of tea. Kevin offered to buy her an engagement ring a few days after that, so there was no question of this being just an office fling for him. He was crazy about her. And Kate thought he wasn’t a bad catch, either. He was very talkative, and attentive, and quite a competent kisser. But she didn’t feel any fireworks when they were alone together.
Kevin was pushing her for an answer to his proposal, claiming it wasn’t too soon as he had been in love with her for ages. And Kate was thirty and Kevin was thirty-five. What was the point of hanging about? Kate actually gave his proposal serious consideration. Her father would be pleased, and Kevin would make a better husband than most. But she couldn’t say yes, or no, just yet. She wanted to think about it for a while. They were not even a couple, officially. It was very complicated. Then again, if there was any danger that Shirley was going to have a serious relationship with Declan, she might just get engaged after all. She could not possibly be upstaged by her baby sister, who owned not one item of designer clothing or even a drop of designer make-up. And who left important decisions of the heart up to silly things like instinct. And so, she went out with Kevin for a drink after work occasionally, or shopping maybe, or just for a Sunday walk. The two of them were more or less dating. They had been out for dinner several times and both of their families were curious. Kevin and Kate brazened it out. They weren’t ready to discuss their relationship with anybody. They were still trying to work it out themselves.
‘I’m delighted that you asked me to marry you, Kevin,’ she told him one day, as they lay on the sofa together after their lunchtime cup of tea. ‘And when I’m able to give you an answer, I will. And I promise you there is no other man on the horizon.’
On Christmas night, Declan called round to go for a stroll with Shirley. The snow was so thick on the ground they made lovely scrunching sounds when they walked. He was delighted with his gloves and put them on straight away. He gave Shirley a tiny present in a fancy box, which she just knew was jewellery. It turned out to be a beautiful silver necklace with a little diamond heart on it. The little diamond sparkling under the street lights made her feel very vulnerable and small. She wanted to cry. Shirley decided there was no point in holding the news about the baby to herself any longer. Whatever he said or did now, would not alter her decision to keep the baby. She looked around to make sure they were on their own.
‘Declan, look, there’s no easy way to tell you this. I wasn’t going to tell you until January but I can’t keep it to myself any longer. I’m going to have a baby. I know we’ve just met, and I didn’t do this on purpose, and you probably think I did, but anyway I’m keeping the baby and you don’t have to stay with me, and I’m sorry if your parents go mad, and my parents will definitely go mad, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.’
‘Shush, Shirley,’ he whispered, putting his arms round her, in the middle of the footpath. His face was full of concern. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’
‘Yes. I’ve been to the doctor for a proper test.’
‘How long?’
‘About six weeks. It must have happened the first time we slept together.’
‘I’m so sorry, Shirley. This is all my fault.’
‘It’s okay. These things happen all the time. That’s what the doctor said. No method is absolutely foolproof, she said. I’m not sad.’
‘Are you not?’
‘No. I’m scared stiff. But I’m not sad. Are you?’
‘No. But I’m sorry for all the trouble this is going to be for you, pet.’
‘Do you want to break up?’ There was a lump in her throat, but she wanted to know right away. She couldn’t bear it if he said he would need some time to think things over. She’d never speak to him again, if he said that. It was all or nothing for Shirley. But she needn’t have worried.
‘No, you idiot,’ he laughed. ‘Why would I want to break up?’
‘Because, if you do, that’s fine with me. As I said before, I didn’t do this on purpose to hang on to you or anything. I still have my pride. I can get through this on my own.’
‘Shirley, I love you. And I love being part of a happy family. My parents have a fantastic marriage. Do you want to get married? Will you marry me?’
‘What? Aren’t we too young? Too inexperienced?’
‘Well, yes and no. Why not? I’m willing to take a chance if you are.’
‘Take a chance?’
‘I mean, you might decide you don’t love me in a year’s time, but I’m pretty sure I’ll still love you. In fact, I know I will.’
‘Won’t your family think I’m too common for you?’
‘Not at all. They’re from common stock themselves, you know. They just worked their way into that big house.’
‘Still. I’m sure they’ll be disappointed.’
‘I’ll sweeten the pill for them a little bit.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ll tell them I’m going to stick at medical college after all, now that I have serious responsibilities. I was considering chucking it for a while, recently.’
She began to relax, and breathe properly for the first time in days. If Declan wasn’t going to do a runner, it would be easier to tell her parents.
‘That’s great news, but it’ll take years before you graduate. I earn next to nothing. How will we live?’
‘We’ll rent a flat. I’ll work weekends in the restaurant.’
‘We’ll live together?’
‘Yes – aren’t we going to get married?’
‘Before the baby comes?’
‘Yes. You don’t mind?’
‘Of course I don’t mind. I had some notion I was going to keep the baby in my room at home.’
‘You said it was the boxroom.’
‘It is. It’s tiny.’
‘You couldn’t fit a crib in there, could you? Or a playpen and toys? You wouldn’t believe how much stuff you need with babies.’
‘Oh, God! A crib! Declan! What have we done?’
‘It’s okay, Shirley
. Everything is going to be okay. I promise you. I have three sisters younger than me; I know all about stairgates and baby rice. Now, say after me: Everything is going to be okay.’
They walked for two hours and by the time Declan eventually kissed Shirley goodnight at her front door, they had made a pact to tell everyone right away and arrange the wedding before Shirley’s bump made the keepsake photographs just too embarrassing. They looked at the beautiful angel perched on the top of the tree in the bay window, smiling down on them through the frosty glass.
‘Do you realize that getting engaged at Christmas is the Holy Grail for romantic women everywhere?’ whispered Shirley. She wasn’t sure but she thought she felt happy and maybe even a tiny bit excited. At least, it wasn’t the catastrophe it had seemed in the beginning.
‘I’m glad you’re getting used to the idea,’ said Declan. ‘I really love you, Shirley. It’s not just the baby. I do love you. We’ll be okay.’
‘I think this child will be in university before I get used to the idea,’ said Shirley in a quiet voice. ‘But I’ll tell you one thing.’
‘What?’
‘Kate is going to go ballistic when she finds out that I’m getting married. And I do mean ballistic. Nuclear meltdown hissy-fit bonkers. In fact, I think we’d better have the men in white coats standing by with rhino-sedatives when we make our big announcement. She’ll have to be restrained with ropes.’
‘Every cloud, eh?’ Declan said, and they both laughed for the first time that evening.
‘When will we tell your parents?’ he asked quietly.
‘We’ll tell them tomorrow evening,’ she said. ‘When they’re too full of turkey and wine to do anything but shout.’
The minute Declan came through the front door, dusting fresh snow from his shoulders, Marion knew that something important had happened. Her beloved son’s face was flushed and bright with excitement. She watched him from her comfortable armchair in the sitting room for a few moments, as he lingered by the coat rack, straightening the arms of his jacket. She knew that if he had some news to tell her, he would bring up the subject himself, in his own way. Marion was a good listener. She prided herself on her approachable nature. Eddy had nodded off on the sofa under a cosy woollen blanket. Declan came into the room, and she smiled her brightest smile at him.
