by Melissa Hill
“Lovely just like her mother,” Molly said, with a slight smile and a definite meaning in her tone. At this Olivia tried to flash her a look.
Matt laughed. “You’re right about that,” he said, studying Olivia closely and in that moment she knew that she wasn’t mistaken. It hadn’t been wishful thinking, Matt did seem attracted to her, and as much as she knew how wrong it was, Olivia couldn’t help feeling warmed by the thought of it. It had been ages since she’d felt like this. Sod’s Law it had to be a married man.
She laughed in what she hoped was a carefree manner. “Ellie would be thrilled to hear that,” she said to Molly.
“What age is she now?” Molly asked easily. “Four, isn’t it?” She raised her eyes to heaven theatrically. “Which means it must be four years, God love us, since –”
Beep! Beep! The loud sound of a car-horn from outside cut her off.
“Oh, I’d better go,” Olivia said hurriedly. “Ellie’s in the car on her own and she could be up to all sorts.” She snatched up the milk from the counter and, smiling a quick goodbye at them both, hurried out of the store.
“You forgot your change,” Molly went to the door and called after her, but it was too late. Olivia’s car was already halfway down the road. “Poor thing,” the shopkeeper shook her head sadly and went back behind the counter. “Having to bring up that child on her own.”
“On her own?” Matt murmured offhandedly, before picking up his own change and putting it in his pocket.
“Yes, and an absolute shame it is too,” Molly continued, obviously bursting to tell him all about it – whatever ‘it’ was. “The husband died suddenly while she was pregnant with the little one,” she informed him, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Just took a turn and dropped dead one day after coming home from a hard day’s work, apparently.” She sighed dramatically. “Isn’t it terrible the way the young people are under so much pressure these days with work and big mortgages and everything? It’s the stress that does it, if you ask me. And him a radiologist, if you please, practically a doctor himself – but that didn’t save him.” She sighed dramatically. “She moved here not long afterwards. It’s not easy bringing up a child on your own, but I’ll tell you one thing, father or no father, you won’t find a better-behaved young one than Ellie Gallagher and that’s no easy claim these days. A lovely little thing, so she is.”
“She is indeed,” Matt replied.
“But it’s an awful shame,” Molly went on, apparently determined to fill Matt in on Olivia’s misfortune. “Such a young couple, and married only a short while when tragedy struck. God love her, it was a terrible thing to happen to anyone but especially to someone so young.”
Matt nodded. “I’d better be going,” he said, putting his newspaper under his arm and heading for the door. “Thanks again,” he smiled at a visibly disappointed Molly.
But despite his own curiosity, Matt was unwilling to partake in idle chit-chat about a woman he hardly knew, yet a woman who had occupied his every thought since he’d first laid eyes upon her.
13
At the weekend, Robin and Ben met Sarah and Brian for dinner in a trendy restaurant on the Upper East Side – Brian spending a rare few consecutive days at home. Robin adored Ben’s sister, and although lately she and Ben had been making more of an effort to visit her and little Kirsty in New Jersey, in Robin’s opinion they didn’t socialize enough together. The reason being, she suspected, the brash and opinionated Brian, who she hadn’t liked from day one.
Now she studied the menu the waiter had given them with habitual caution.
“So, how’s Kirsty?” Ben asked genially, and instantly his sister tensed.
“Don’t mention the war,” Brian said, rolling his eyes as he set down his menu. “It was hard enough convincing Sarah to come out tonight as it was. For some reason she seems to think that the child will spontaneously combust if she’s not around.”
“Brian, don’t start, please,” his wife whispered, embarrassed. “I’m just a bit worried after that last stay in hospital,” she added by way of explanation. “The baby-sitter is new and we haven’t been using her all that long. She doesn’t really know how to handle Kirsty if anything –”
“Seems no one knows how to handle Kirsty, other than her mother of course,” Brian interjected dryly.
“Brian, it’s not like that. We just can’t possibly expect her to know what to do …”
Just then, the waiter arrived to take their order, and the rest of her sentence trailed off.
Robin felt sorry for Sarah. It was obvious that Brian felt she was being unrealistically overprotective of Kirsty’s asthma, yet Sarah couldn’t be blamed for worrying.
“I know what you mean. It’s a big responsibility, isn’t it?” she said with a warm smile. “It’s hard to rely on someone else to know what to do if she gets an attack.”
Sarah nodded gratefully. “It is – and to be honest, I’m not just worried about Kirsty. As she gets older she’s learning that she needs to take her inhaler, but it’s not fair to the baby-sitter. She knows Kirsty’s asthmatic but still …”
“Sarah, you can’t wrap the child in bloody cotton wool!” Brian said. “Honestly, the more you fuss over her the worse she gets!” He looked at Ben and Robin, exasperated. “You should see the way Sarah won’t let her out of her sight. It’s not good to molly-coddle a kid like that.”
Robin and Ben exchanged awkward glances. The way Brian spoke about her, you’d swear that Kirsty was just some troublesome ‘kid’ and not his four-year-old chronically asthmatic daughter. But Brian was away most of the time, and just didn’t understand the worry and stress poor Sarah had to endure.
“Look, I’m sure the baby-sitter will manage just fine,” Ben soothed. “Does she have your cellphone number?”
Sarah nodded, red-faced and embarrassed at her husband’s lack of etiquette and, Robin suspected, hurt by his lack of understanding. Her own father had been the same.
“Well, then, I’m sure she’ll ring if anything happens, won’t she?”
“I suppose,” Sarah bit her lip. “I feel guilty leaving her though – it’s so humid and the pollen count is high and –”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Sarah – will you give it a rest! The kid will be fine, which is more than I can say for myself! This is my first weekend at home in ages – we’re supposed to be out for a relaxing dinner, and already you’re giving me heartburn! Forget about it!”
For a long moment, an awkward silence descended on the table. Then the waiter returned with their first course and Brian turned to Ben. “So,” he asked, purposefully changing the subject, “how’s business?”
“Good, very busy actually,” Ben answered, equally anxious to change the subject, but more anxious, Robin thought, to take the spotlight off poor Sarah.
Robin didn’t know how her kind, gentle sister-in-law put up with such an ignorant oaf for a husband. “She’ll be fine,” she mouthed, giving Sarah another encouraging smile, before taking another sip of her wine. The others had begun making inroads into their starters but, as she was unfamiliar with this particular restaurant, Robin had declined to order one herself. She glanced at Sarah’s green salad and Ben and Brian’s deep-fried shrimp, and while everything seemed innocuous enough, it was just too much of a chance to take. She had taken chances on the basis of doubtful assurances before, and while she lived to tell the tale, Robin knew too well that it just wasn’t worth it. Anyway, she didn’t want to ruin the meal for everyone else by throwing caution to the winds, and particularly not for Ben, who, if the worst came to the worst, would have to administer her adrenaline. Poor Ben, she knew the entire process terrified him, and he had nearly keeled over at his first few attempts. It was very important that friends and family of a nut-allergy sufferer be able to inject the adrenaline properly and Ben, while only too happy to do so, had found it terribly difficult in the early days. The shot was very user-friendly, but because it required a very quick jab in the fleshy part o
f the leg, rather than a slow, easy injection, Ben was very hesitant.
Eventually though, Ben learned that a sudden jab was the lesser of two evils, and after several attempts could now administer the injection easily, although he only had to put his skills into practice a couple of times. While it was embarrassing, and Robin hated having to put people in the position, both Ben and her friend Anna at work were experts with the kit, and could be called upon if the need arose. Despite this, by being extra careful in her day-to-day living, Robin went out of her way to ensure the need didn’t arise.
Tonight, although ravenous to the point of pain, Robin wasn’t about to take a chance on deep-fried shrimp she knew nothing about – no matter how delicious they looked.
“Aren’t you having anything, Robin?” Brian asked her. “Oh, I just remembered, you’re another one of these fad dieters, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “What is it with women these days? You should hear some of the crap the girls at the office come out with – if they’re not on Atkins, they’re in some ‘Zone’,” he made quotation marks with his fingers, “or else they’ve talked themselves into believing they’ve got some kind of wheat or dairy intolerance!” He laughed derisively. “But seriously, Robin, you don’t need to lose weight – you look great!”
At this Ben lay down his menu and gave his brother-in-law a look that could cut him in two.
“Brian!” Sarah gasped.
Robin gave a tight smile. “It’s fine, Sarah. And thanks, Brian,” she said pleasantly, though inwardly annoyed, “but I can assure you, what I’m on is far from being a fad diet.” She hoped Brian would drop the subject. Sarah was already a bit edgy.
“Oh, yeah – I forgot about that whole nutty thing,” Brian said, biting down hard on his shrimp. “Nutty being the operative word! Are you sure it’s not all in the mind, Robin? I mean, what did a few peanuts ever do to you?” He laughed as if he’d made a particularly witty comment.
“They almost killed her – twice,” Ben answered flatly, and Robin kicked him under the table. Ben had no patience with cynics when it came to Robin’s allergy, and he knew only too well how hard it was for her.
Still, there was no point in getting upset about it, Robin thought, and this was supposed to be a relaxing evening for all of them. Brian was just an idiot who couldn’t help putting his foot in it.
“A load of baloney, as far as I can tell,” Brian went on as though Ben hadn’t spoken. “When we were kids there were no such things as nut allergies and pollen allergies and goodness knows what else these drugs corporations are imagining up these days. You do know that that’s all it is, don’t you, Robin? The big pharmaceutical guys are brainwashing America and our children, preying on people like you and Sarah. They get us all worked up about our health and our kids, and then we go and dutifully pay them lots of money for drugs that help ease our worries and our conscience.” His point made, Brian went back to the rest of his shrimp.
Things had been tense all evening, but it seemed that this was the last straw for Sarah. “Brian!” she whispered harshly, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and outrage. “How dare you paint Robin as some kind of raving hypochondriac! What do you know about worry and conscience, when you spend the whole time off on your bloody road trips? When was the last time you had to rush Kirsty to hospital after an asthma attack? When was the last time you had to listen to her struggle for breath, and wonder if her little lungs were going to give out?” Tears shone in her pretty eyes. “And then you have the cheek to sit here and accuse me of being overprotective! Of course I’m being over-protective, you silly bastard, because I need to make up for both of us!” With that, she stood up and grabbed her handbag.
Robin put a hand on her arm. “Sarah, please don’t worry – it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine, and I really hope that both of you can forgive my husband’s stupidity.”
“I don’t mind really.”
“But I mind, Robin,” Sarah replied, “and I’m sorry but I really have to go. I know that tonight has been ruined now, but I can’t listen to his bull any longer. I’m going home now – home to where I should be, back to my child who needs me – because it’s fairly obvious that her idiot father doesn’t give a damn!”
“Sarah, please calm down, it really is fine …” Ben soothed.
“No, it’s not bloody fine,” Brian retorted. “What are you trying to prove here, Sarah?”
His wife reached for the light cotton shawl she had brought with her. “I’m not trying to prove anything – I’m going.” As Sarah reached across to give her a hug, Robin noticed she was trembling.
“I’ll phone you tomorrow,” she told her, and Sarah nodded silently.
“Well, so much for a pleasant evening.” For once, Brian looked flustered – obviously, Robin thought, unused to Sarah standing up to him like that. Good for her – it might do him the world of good.
Although, catching sight of Ben’s hard stare as his sister and brother-in-law exited the room, Robin knew that doing Brian good was the furthest thing from her boyfriend’s mind just then.
14
“He’s such a prat,” Ben said, when they returned to their apartment later that evening. “Lecturing you like that – who the hell does he think he is?”
They had left the restaurant soon after, the thought of dinner no longer quite so appealing. Robin had been relieved in a way. She had ordered something simple, and something that shouldn’t be at all dangerous, but kitchen utensils could be switched and chefs could be careless, and you just never knew. Instead, they had picked up a pizza from a reliable place near the apartment – the proprietor of which often joked that of course he’d make sure it was safe for Robin – hadn’t she been keeping him in business these last five years?
“It wasn’t so much that – it was the way he lectured Sarah that annoyed me,” Robin answered, taking a huge bite out of her pizza. “Honestly, you’d wonder why the likes of Brian ended up having children at all – he’s never there for Kirsty and she adores him!”
Ben fiddled with a strand of her hair. “She adores you too, you know,” he said, “and wouldn’t you wonder why the likes of you and me don’t have children, when it’s obvious you’d be a terrific mother?”
Robin moved his hand away. “Don’t, Ben.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t start this whole kids thing again.”
“Robin, it’s just that I can’t understand why you’re so against having children when you’re obviously a natural with them. Kirsty adores you, all kids adore you and despite what you say, I know you love them too.”
Robin shook her head. She couldn’t believe this had come up now. Wasn’t it enough for him that she had agreed to settle down and buy a house together? Why did he have to bring up the kids thing again?
Ben took her hand. “Look, I know how you feel about it, and of course I’m not going to push it, but you know I’ve always thought your reasoning is crazy.”
They had been over and over this many times before and still Ben couldn’t understand it. He just didn’t get it. It wasn’t about not wanting to have them, it was about what they would have to go through if they did.
“Do you have any idea what it would be like trying to bring up a child suffering from my allergy?” Robin said. “It’s bad enough as it is – like tonight when I can’t go to a restaurant, or we can’t even eat at a friend’s house without there being a big fuss over what I can and can’t eat. Imagine what it would be like with a child like that!”
“Yes, but there are no guarantees that the allergy will be passed on –”
“But there is, Ben.” She had tried to explain this many times before but he just wouldn’t listen. “There is every guarantee that it will be passed on. The condition is hereditary, and because mine is so severe, I’d say there is a nine out of ten chance that it would be passed on.”
“But what about that ten per cent then? Don’t you think that having a child of our own would be worth ta
king that chance? It’s not as though you don’t like or want kids, Robin, I know you do, so why let this ruin your chances of becoming a mother? As you said yourself, it takes over so much of your life, so why let it extend to this?”
“Ben, it’s very easy to say that now, but you can’t possibly have any idea of what it would be like. You can see it with Sarah and Brian, how Kirsty’s asthma has put that relationship, that marriage, under severe pressure.”
“Yes, but that’s because Brian is an insensitive prat who doesn’t realise –”
“It’s not that, Ben, of course he realises! He realises but he doesn’t really understand.” She shook her head. “It was the very same with my parents. My mother had a terrible time with me and, as you know, was fiercely protective. My dad, although he knew that my allergy was very serious, still thought that Mum was overly cautious and hysterical.”
“I know all this,” Ben said, “and I know that sometimes your dad wasn’t cautious enough.”
Robin nodded. When she was six years old, her father had one day during the summer holidays taken her on a trip to Tramore Strand as a treat. After a pleasant day in glorious sunshine, with Tom helping her build sandcastles and teaching her to swim in the sea, Robin was ravenous. Her father, innocently but rather carelessly, Robin thought now, had bought them each a portion of chips from a roadside caravan, not even thinking to check what cooking oil they used. Robin had taken one bite of a chip, had an immediate reaction and within minutes started going into anaphylactic shock. Luckily, her dad had remembered to take some adrenaline with them, but had left it in the boot of the car. In the time that it took for him to go back and find it – leaving poor Robin lying in a semi-conscious state outside the chip-van, a crowd of horrified onlookers surrounding her – his daughter had almost died.
“Mum went crazy. Understandably she blamed him, and it eventually drove them apart.” It was something that Robin had always felt guilty about, despite the fact that her mother assured her it wasn’t her fault. Robin knew it was, yet there was little she could do about it. She wasn’t about to take that chance with a child of her own. It was too much of a burden.
