by Claire Allan
“Do you think Mum will ever speak to me again once she finds out?” I said eventually.
“Let’s hope so, eh?” Anna said with a half smile. “Now, let’s figure this out. How are we going to tell them? I wouldn’t think it would be the best idea in the world just to show up with Maggie.”
Anna was right. The shock would kill them. But Maggie was my Ace of Hearts – the one trick I had to pull out of the bag to make them be okay with this. After all, she was their grandchild. They couldn’t reject their own grandchild.
Anna and I talked more. We decided that she would head over there first and try and break the ice. She was going to phone Joe too, and invite (well, order, to be honest) him over to her house to meet the pair of us.
The thought of Joe and the way he had spoken to me on the phone earlier that day made my blood run a little cold. I had no doubt he would have already been on the phone to Perfect Jacqueline by then and that the pair of them would have tutted and felt all self-satisfied at my predicament. Joe may have fancied himself as all man but there were times when he was a right old woman. He revelled in gossip like no other man I knew. They say Derry men always remain tied to their mammy’s apron strings – well, in Joe’s case I was pretty sure he was still attached by the umbilical cord and every day a little bit more of my mother seeped into him. If he wasn’t careful he would be getting a perm and playing the bingo by the time he was thirty-six.
Anna went to make the necessary phone calls while I burped Maggie. My mobile phoned beeped into life and I’m not sure why but I got the strangest notion it might have been Jake trying to get through to me. I thought just how wonderful it would be if he had somehow sensed I had been talking about him and felt this insurmountable urge to send me a message.
Of course, it only took the twenty seconds between the phone sounding and me fishing it out of my bag to find out that it wasn’t Jake and was in fact Beth – just checking how I was doing.
I already missed her. “I’m surviving,” I texted back. “Call u later. X”
Oh for our daybed and a bottle of gin! That would put the world to rights.
Joe arrived at four thirty. It was precisely the time he said he would arrive. It was one of the qualities my mother so admired about him – his ability to be on time for absolutely everything. In our childhood she often regaled the story of how he even managed to arrive on his due date. Unlike me. I was ten days overdue and Mum needed an induction. I don’t think she has forgiven me since.
I heard the clunk of his car door and as I looked out the window I saw him walk up the garden path. He looked tired. His suit was a little dishevelled and he could have done with a shave. I would have felt sorry for him if I wasn’t so sure the scruffy look was all part of his grand plan to have Mum fuss and coo over him when he went to her house. Fecking attention-stealer!
Running his fingers through his neatly trimmed dark hair he reached out to press the doorbell. I took a deep breath and opened the door. It was hard to know what to say. His disappointment in me was etched across his face and I felt that old defiance rise up again. I wanted to push him back out the door and tell him to take his smug, tired face and feck off. Instead I muttered “Hello” and walked back into the living-room, leaving him to follow me.
“So,” he said, sitting down on the sofa, not even casting a cursory glance in the direction of the Moses basket.
“So what?” I replied. Yes, I was being childish but I couldn’t help myself.
“What are we going to do about this?”
“This,” I snapped “is my child. She is your niece. Her name is Maggie. The only thing I plan to ‘do about this’ is raise her the best way I can.”
Joe sighed. “Don’t be like that, Aoife. You know that’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes, and sat forward, his head in his hands. “You know I was talking about Mum and Dad and how you’re going to tell them.”
“I’m not telling them. Anna is.” The childish tone remained in my voice, all that was missing was a triumphant “so there!” at the end of the sentence. I wanted to sit down and discuss this with Joe like the adults we were but I felt flustered, like a little sister again.
“But you have to face them,” Joe replied, cutting through my thoughts.
“I know.” It was my turn to sit down and put my head in my hands. “They’re going to go mental, aren’t they?”
“That you didn’t tell them? Well, wouldn’t you? If in twenty-odd years Maggie there” (for the first time he actually looked in her direction) “announced she had given birth and not told you about it, wouldn’t you go off your head?”
“S’ppose, but you don’t understand, Joe. You’re their perfect child with the perfect wife and the perfect child in your perfect house.” My voice had become high-pitched and whiney. I could barely hide my bitterness.
“For fuck sake, Aoife, grow up! This isn’t a competition. This is about acting like an adult and you have been acting like a spoiled child. You’ve deprived Mum and Dad of so much and you can’t even see how bloody selfish you’ve been!” His words hurt. Me? Selfish? I’d just done the most selfless thing of my whole life. I’d kept my baby. I’d had her even though I knew my support network was virtually non-existent. Aside from Beth, Dan and Anna (and Matilda too, I suppose) I was in this alone.
“Deprived them of what? Of feeling ashamed of me? You know they’re still living in the 1950s! If they had their way I’d have been sent off to the Magdalen Laundries for this indiscretion and you know that. Who are you to judge me, Joe? You don’t even know me!” I was shouting by that stage, unable to control my anger, and my raised voice caused Maggie to wake and start to wail. “See what you did!” I shouted and hurried to where she lay. Tears coursing down my face, I picked her up and held her close to me. “Sssh, baby, sssh! Mummy’s here. Your own mummy is here.” Her cries subsided.
I turned to face Joe, who was standing now with a strange look on his face. I couldn’t place it. If I wasn’t mistaken it could actually have been the teeniest, tiniest ounce of respect. “She’s your niece, Joe,” I said. “Don’t you want to say hello?”
He stepped forward and reached his hand out to her. Her dark blue eyes stared out at him, her tiny fingers curling around his. “Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice soft now, and I nodded. Cradling her gently he bent his head forward and gently kissed her forehead. “You should have told us, Aoife.”
For the first time I wondered if my brother was right.
Chapter 13
Beth
Your mother called again,” Dan said as he poured me a cup of coffee.
I was standing by the kitchen counter, a thermometer under my tongue while I flicked through the morning papers.
“Wha didth she wan?” I asked.
Dan smiled, took the thermometer from my mouth and handed it to me. “Can I have that again, in English this time?”
I stared down at the figure in front of me, charting down the number in my notebook. Temps all normal for this time in the month. “What did she want?” I asked again.
“Same thing she always wants,” he said. “She wants us to come down to visit.”
I rolled my eyes.
“It has been a while, babe,” he said, pouring just the right amount of milk into my coffee cup.
“Yeah, well, with Aoife away I don’t see how we can manage it. You know how busy I am at the moment. Karl’s house isn’t going to get finished if I’m swanning off all the time.”
“You wouldn’t be making excuses, now would you?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not. I’m busy. You’re busy. We are very busy.”
“Well, you can’t put it off forever.”
“I know,” I sighed. But I would put it off for as long as humanly possible. If I could put it off even for another three weeks – who knows, we could have an announcement of our own to make.
“She would understand if we told her, you know,” Dan said.
“No.
She doesn’t need to know. Nothing is wrong, remember. The doctors couldn’t find anything so there is nothing to tell.”
Dan stood back, rubbing his temples. “I suppose.”
I kissed him. I didn’t like it when he looked unhappy. I didn’t like that look of worry – that vague little look of disappointment he sometimes got when we talked about “things”. I stroked his cheek, kissing him again.
“Next month,” I said. “I promise. Next month we’ll go home and see Mum. You never know, we might get lucky this month. My temps are doing exactly what they should.”
He sighed again, kissing me lightly. “I’d better be off,” and he left, his coffee cup still full and his croissant uneaten.
It made me feel uneasy, but I knew it was going to be a busy day and so I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head. Heather and I had a pitch to prepare. I needed to be on my game today – not worrying about whether or not Dan was annoyed with me.
We never rowed. It was something I was exceptionally proud of. We had the odd “discussion” but we never screamed at each other. Aoife used to say that no screaming out of the bedroom meant there was no screaming in it. She liked to think that her volatile relationship with Jake made them some mad passionate star-crossed lovers. Their passion proved their love, she said. I was happy to settle for security, contentment and, if I’m being honest, it didn’t take away from the passion in the bedroom one bit.
Dan and I loved each other. We couldn’t get enough of each other and yes, while admittedly at the minute our sex life was dictated by temperatures, discharges and optimum windows of opportunity, it was still pretty damn good when it got going.
No, Dan was probably just tired. I should not read too much into his still full coffee cup. We were just fine. He loved me and I loved him. Nothing was wrong. That was my mantra and it would stay my mantra – for this and for everything else in my life.
****
Arriving at the shop, I switched on the lights and lamps which gave the showroom its warm glow. We rarely had customers before eleven, so these two hours first thing were perfect for catching up on paperwork or putting the finishing touches to pitches.
I’d sent Heather out to pick up some more swatches of material from a supplier and was just settling down to work when the bell above the door tinkled into life.
“Beth, gorgeous. How are you?”
I looked up, seeing this familiar but unwelcome face in front of me and I felt my heart start to thud. I wasn’t sure what to say. The power of speech was gone. I just sat there, staring, my mouth opening but no noise coming out.
“Aren’t you going to give me a hug?” he asked.
I shook my head slowly. No, I did not want to give this man a hug. I most definitely did not want to hug the man who had impregnated my best friend and then run off, not bothering himself to contact her, or his cousin, or any of us at any stage over the last eight months.
No, I most certainly did not want to hug Jake Gibson.
“I think you should leave,” I muttered eventually – standing up because I’d read once that you should always be at the same level as someone when having a confrontation.
“I don’t really think that’s up to you, babe,” he said and I cringed at the use of the word babe. Why had I never realised before just what a slimy little creep he was?
“Aoife’s not here,” I said.
I didn’t think he deserved to know Maggie wasn’t here either. He didn’t deserve to hear Maggie’s name, never mind know her whereabouts. What kind of a creep has a daughter and turns his back on her? I could feel my face redden and my fingers start to clench. How dare he? How dare he stand here, and call me a babe, and have walked out on the most precious thing he could ever have been given?
“So I really think you should go,” I added using every ounce of my strength to stop myself from telling him just what a complete bastarding fucking arse I thought he was.
“When will she be back?”
“Jesus, Jake, I didn’t think you cared so much about people coming back. I thought you were a free and easy kind of a guy?” I didn’t even try to hide the hatred in my voice.
“Look,” he said, “I know she had the baby and she wants to see me so I’m trying to do the right thing and come to see her.”
“You wouldn’t know the right thing if it came up and kicked you in the balls,” I snarled. “Just leave, Jake. Aoife will be back when she is back. It might be in ten minutes, it might be in eight months – we’ll just wait and see, shall we? I’m pretty sure you don’t mind, do you?”
“Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just tell her I called by.” And then he left.
I felt sick. I sat down, my head in my hands and felt physically sick. I could not believe Jake was back. I could not believe he was going to waltz back into Aoife’s life now – into Maggie’s life and start messing them around again.
He didn’t deserve to be a father. Why should I help him fulfil the role he had pushed away all those months ago? No, he could fuck off and if he wanted to get in touch with Aoife it would have to be without my help.
I clutched my hands to my stomach, rocking back and forth, and tried to block out all the horrible, evil thoughts I was having about him and then I picked up the phone and called the one other person who would understand.
Before Dan even had the chance to say hello I blurted: “He’s back.”
“Who? The mad stalker man?” Dan asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.
Yes, he knew I was a little scatty and he had taken great joy in ribbing me about the stalker man ever since that day I’d revealed almost every detail of Aoife’s life to a complete stranger.
“No. Jake. Jake is back.”
There was a pause – an almost inaudible sigh – one only I could recognise as the woman who loved him and knew just how much anger he now held in his heart for the man he had once considered his best friend.
“Does Aoife know?”
“No, and I don’t think I should tell her.”
“You have to tell her, Betsy, you know that,” Dan said gently.
“No,” I said, tears pricking in my eyes. “I don’t have to tell her anything. I don’t have to let that bastard into Maggie’s life. He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve to be a daddy.”
Dan sighed again. It seemed to be a new habit of his. “If I know Jake like I think I know Jake, there is no danger of him acting the daddy for anyone.”
“But he said he wanted to do right by her,” I said.
There was a sniff on the other end of the line. “Jake Gibson has never done right by anyone his entire life.”
“So I’m right then, aren’t I? Don’t give him the chance to hurt them again?”
“No, babe. It’s not your decision to make. Aoife is a big girl. She can deal with this in her own way. You have to give her that chance.”
“But Maggie’s not a big girl.”
“And she’s not your responsibility.”
My heart broke a little. I started to cry.
“Beth, are you okay?”
“Well, that’s a stupid bloody question, isn’t it?” I snapped.
Another sigh. “We’ll talk about this later. I can’t deal with this just now,” he said and put down the phone, which of course just made me cry all the harder.
I walked to the front of the shop and turned the sign over to closed. Lifting my bag, I walked out and closed the door, locking it behind me. I couldn’t deal with this either right then.
Calling into Morelli’s, I was immediately soothed by the strong smell of fresh coffee and fresh baked breads wafting from the kitchen. This always worked. It always made me feel better, so I took a seat in the darkest corner and composed myself before stepping up to order a coffee.
I was grateful that Mrs Morelli didn’t seem to be working that morning. I don’t think I could have faced one of her inquisitions – well-meaning as they would have been. Aoife loved them, of course she did, she loved to natte
r to anyone who would listen and wasn’t afraid to pour out her deep dark secrets to anyone who would listen (apart from her own family, of course). I preferred to sit alone, drink my coffee and quieten the chatter in my head.
Mr Morelli poured the coffee. If he noticed the red rims around my eyes, he didn’t say anything. He just smiled as he took my money and handed me my change. I sighed with relief – just before turning around and narrowly avoiding spilling my hot, black coffee all over Stalker Man.
“God, I’m so sorry,” I said, looking at him and seeing that same bemused look on his face that he had in the shop that day.
“No harm done,” he said. “You missed.”
I gabbled an apology again before moving to my seat, my face burning with embarrassment.
His voice followed me. “Are you okay?”
I looked up from my seat. “I’m fine. Honest. It missed me too.”
“You look upset?”
“What are you – Dr Phil?” I snapped. I didn’t need this. I just wanted to be alone.
“Sorry. Just asking. God, Instant Karma? More like Instant Depression!” he quipped and walked away – leaving my face burning once again.
It was still only 10 a.m., but Lord I wanted this day to be over.
Chapter 14
Aoife
I swear I could hear my mother saying the Rosary as I opened the garden gate and started to walk towards the door. Joe carried Maggie in her car seat and I shuffled awkwardly up the garden path like a woman on her way to the gallows, or the guillotine. That said, at that precise moment I quite liked the idea of the guillotine. A quick drop of a blade and I wouldn’t have to face my mother. Somehow it didn’t seem so scary put that way.
Anna must have seen us coming because she opened the door, her face pale as if she had just come face to face with the Devil himself. I felt sick. I actually thought I would throw up in the rose bushes – but that would only make my mother more annoyed. She didn’t like vomit in her garden. I’d learned that lesson when I was eighteen after a night on the tiles.
