by Jackie Walsh
Holding my breath, I dunk my head. Now I’m totally submerged, hoping to relax, but my mind is trying to make sense of that card. I should have known this was all too good to be true. That it was only a matter of time before karma would find me.
Chapter Four
I don’t remember going to bed. That extra pill certainly did the trick. Opening my eyes, I stare at the dark sky above my head. Conor had a skylight the width of the room installed above the bed. He loves to look at the sky at night and I have to admit, I find it very relaxing. Pain in the ass when the sun beats down on you first thing in the morning during the summer but Conor says he’ll have an electric blind installed before summer comes around again.
Three stars above my head. That’s all I can see. The moon is out of the picture. I wonder what they’re called? Conor probably knows. He knows a lot about astronomy. He’s forever talking about it. One of our first dates was spent in the company of Brian Cox, a physicist guy I pretended I’d heard of, when Conor suggested we go to the gig in the 3Arena. It was almost a year ago. A raging storm the previous day had threatened to cancel the event. Fallen trees and floods had extended Conor’s journey to Dublin by almost an hour. Both of us had had to run across the cobblestone pathway of the Arena to get in before the show started. I had struggled in the high heeled shoes that Amanda, my sister, had loaned me for the night, but luckily we had got there just as the door was about to close.
Three hours looking at particles and stars and moons and black holes would have been torture if I hadn’t been so amused by Conor’s enthusiasm. I don’t think he blinked once. The look on his face resembled that of a child entering the gates of Disneyworld. His attention was glued to the giant screen as Brian Cox filled his mind with possibility. Conor often mentioned how he would have loved to study astronomy if he hadn’t inherited the family business when his father died.
I stretch my hand to feel his warmth beside me. He’s not here. Lifting my head, I scan the room and see him sitting on the armchair by the window. Shay is in his arms sucking on a bottle. Gosh, I almost forgot, I have a baby now.
‘Was he crying?’ I say.
‘Like a pack of hyenas. You were out cold.’
‘I didn’t hear a thing.’
Suddenly I feel vulnerable. Incapable. ‘Gosh Conor, what if I never hear him crying in the night?’
‘Don’t worry, Laura. You will. Your body is just overtired at the moment.’ That and the overdose of painkillers which I’m not going to mention.
Conor is staring into Shay’s eyes, rocking him gently. He looks as happy as it’s possible to look, sitting there with his son in his arms. Watching my husband and baby in the dim light makes my heart swell. I must be the luckiest… An image of the card crashes into my mind with heart-stopping clarity!
It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. Your husband is a murderer. My heart quickens. I look across the room at Conor. His tossed hair, his gentle smile, his strong arms cradling his dream. Could he be a murderer? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Why am I allowing myself to be scared by a frigging card? Conor was with me the night Vicky was killed. The night before Shay was born. He couldn’t possibly be the killer. And he’s too kind. Conor wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’ve never even heard him speak badly of anyone. Or anyone speak badly of him. Mind you, he does employ half the village so they’d have to be pretty brave to criticise the local saint.
The only time I’ve ever seen Conor lose his cool was on a football pitch. It was a cold day. The frost was nibbling at us all. I was standing on the sideline wrapped in a jacket thick enough to visit the North Pole in, but it did nothing for my tortured toes. Hopping from foot to foot, I was praying for the ref to blow the whistle, when Conor went to ground. Seeing him jump to his feet and swing his hurl at the guy who landed him there surprised me and, apparently, the team manager, who took him off before he did any real damage. I was a bit taken aback. But that was the only occasion I saw him lose it – unlike his best friend Noel, whose temper seems to always be on patrol. I’ve only been at three of their matches and Noel was red-carded in all three of them.
‘Go back to sleep, Laura, we’re fine here.’ Conor’s whisper crosses the dark room. His voice is calming but still my mind struggles to relax. I have to stop. This is ridiculous. Someone is clearly trying to upset me for some reason and I can’t let them. I’m going to be the perfect mother to Shay, the perfect wife to Conor, and no one is going to stop me. I’m going to rip that card up and get on with my life. Closing my eyes, I try to remove the card from my mind but it won’t leave. Have I room for another secret? Maybe I should tell Conor. Or Amanda. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll show my sister the card. Amanda will know what I should do.
Chapter Five
What the hell is that? Lifting my head off the pillow, I hear the sound of people’s laughter travelling up from downstairs. I glance at the clock. It’s after ten, almost eleven. Above the fading laughter, the unmistakable voice of Conor’s mam offering something to someone dominates the proceedings. Dropping my head back into the comfort of the pillow, I inhale. Don’t get annoyed, Laura, it won’t go on forever. But I am annoyed, it’s impossible not to be. What kind of a place is this? Has no one any boundaries?
I drag myself to the shower and change into a pretty shabby-looking tracksuit, reflective of how I feel – pretty shabby. I wanted to spend today alone with Conor and Shay but now the house is full of people who knows when we’ll get a moment to ourselves?
Anxious to see little Shay, I hurry downstairs. Only four visitors have created all that havoc: Maggie, of course, her face still beaming from the excitement of her new grandson; Olive, her blond hair tied back showing her perfect bone structure. Brown eyes set in sallow skin allows her beauty to shine even without makeup. She hasn’t removed her heavy jacket yet, so she mustn’t be planning on staying long. I don’t blame her. It must be awkward for her, standing in her ex’s house as he dotes over his newborn child that he had with another woman. The file in her hand tells me she’s only here to give Conor something from the brewery, but Conor is busy laughing with Noel and Abbie, Conor’s closest friends.
Abbie is lovely but there’s something about Noel that doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t trust him. He’s too confident, all me me me. He practically dismissed me when I first met him, looking at the bump, sneering, like he thought I had purposely got myself pregnant to hold on to Conor. I’ve never seen him show any empathy for anyone. It’s like he lives in his own world, writing his own rules. But Conor seems to love the guy so I can’t say anything.
Abbie is the first to notice me. She looks fabulous, as always, in a leafy green dress and expensive-looking boots. Apparently, her family are dripping in money and it looks good on her. Unlike me, standing here in a tracksuit. Feeling like I don’t belong amongst the expensive furniture and top-of-the-range appliances that were chosen by someone else. I wonder whether Maggie had a hand in decorating this place. Or worse still, Olive.
Abbie’s smile is just as impressive as her clothes, brightening her face. It’s dampened with a hint of sympathy when she sees me enter the room. Her expression reinforces my self-doubt.
‘There you are Laura,’ she says, walking over to my side, taking my arm with both hands and pulling me over to the group. ‘I hope you don’t mind us calling in but Noel has to leave for Dublin and he insisted on seeing little Shay before he left.’
‘No problem, thanks for calling.’ The subtle smell of floral perfume hovers in the air as my eyes search out the magazine on the countertop with the cards hidden beneath it. It’s still there and from what I can remember, I was so fraught with fear, it’s still in the same position that I left it. I move from Abbie’s grasp in the direction of my baby. Maggie jumps up from where she’s sitting, close to the crib.
‘Now, you sit down, my dear. It’s time for you to rest. I’ll make you whatever you want.’ She walks over to my side.
Maggie has arrived with a full face of makeup
, which she moves close to mine, her eyes calculating my appearance. She’s probably thinking, she could have put on a bit of lippy.
‘What would you like?’ she says.
I’d like you all to leave. ‘Just a cup of tea, thanks.’
‘Tea it is, so.’ Maggie fills the kettle and stands waiting for it to boil. My heart is thumping hard in my chest, watching Maggie’s every move as she hovers close to the magazine. I pray to God she doesn’t lift it. If she sees the cards, she’ll want to read them.
‘The baby is great.’ Noel’s loud, deep voice echoes through the room, distracting me. He’s standing with his hands on his hips, staring into the crib. ‘Can’t wait until he’s out on the pitch kicking ball. Let’s hope he’s better than his father.’ Everyone laughs.
‘And his godfather.’ Conor says.
Noel turns to look at Conor. ‘What?’
‘Yes, I was hoping you’d be godfather to Shay.’
Noel takes a few steps forward and hugs Conor. His eyes are wide with surprise. ‘What?… I’d be honoured, Conor. Thanks.’ The two men embrace, and I’m left gobsmacked.
What is Conor doing? I don’t want Noel to be the godfather. To be forever tied to our family. I don’t trust him and I don’t want him teaching Shay to be violent on the pitch like he is. One time he broke a poor guy’s leg. I was there, it was no accident. He did it on purpose but of course not one of the fifteen hundred people who live here in Ballycall thought it was his fault.
Maggie’s all smiles as she puts a cup of tea into my shaking hand. I’m doing my best not to cry here. I know I’m an outsider. But surely I should have a say in my own son’s future.
Chapter Six
‘But you said you were going to ask your cousin Aidan to be godfather.’
‘I know but I changed my mind. I hardly ever see Aidan. Noel is always around. He’s been my buddy since we were kids.’
The house has emptied out. Olive was first to go, promising to be of any help she could to me. Why does everyone presume I need help? Then Noel and Abbie left, leaving only Conor’s mother to annoy me. Thankfully she had plans to meet a friend for lunch in the village, so we didn’t need to throw her out this time.
‘You should have told me, Conor. We should have discussed it.’
‘I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this, Laura. I never objected to you asking Amanda to be godmother.’
‘I’m not making a big deal. I just wish you had discussed it with me first. I thought that’s what we did.’
Conor walks over to where I’m standing by the crib and puts his arm around me.
‘I know Laura, you’re right, I should have discussed it with you first, but to be honest, I hadn’t really thought it through myself. I just got carried away in the moment. There was Noel, delighted with our new arrival, talking about Shay playing football with us in the future. I haven’t heard from Aidan in a long time. Not even a text to congratulate us. So I just reacted. Does it really bother you?’
What can I say? Yes. I don’t like the guy. It’s not like it would change anything except make things uncomfortable for Conor.
‘It doesn’t bother me at all. I’m sorry I reacted like I did, it’s probably just the hormones.’
Shay smacks his lips together. He is so cute I could swallow him. Bending over to pick him up, I feel his heat against my face and take a deep breath to savour this little beauty.
‘When did you last feed him?’ I say.
‘Mam fed him at about ten, so…’ Conor looks at his watch. ‘He’ll be due between one and two maybe.’
I cringe when I hear him say his mother was feeding my baby. I’m losing control here. I’m going to have to get my act together.
‘And did you change him?’
‘Mam changed him straight after.’
No more extra pills, Laura.
The sound of feet shuffling past the window grabs my attention. I look out and see Pat walking by. Pat is an old friend of Conor’s father and has been living on this land for as long as anyone can remember. His small abode is just inside the forest at the end of the garden. It seems wrong to call this vast expanse a garden. In the city a garden has an end. Usually quite an abrupt one. But here it just seems to go on and on and on.
Grabbing a blanket from the crib, I wrap it around Shay before opening the back door.
‘Hi Pat,’ I say, standing in the doorway. He stops and turns to look at me. ‘Would you like to come in?’ Pat walks closer to the house and glances in the window. To my surprise, when he sees Conor inside, he shakes his head slowly from side to side. Not wanting to go out into the biting air, I twist around so Pat can see the baby.
‘This is Shay. It’s short for Seamus,’ I say, bringing a smile to Pat’s face. Shay is named after Conor’s father. Apparently he and Pat were the best of friends. Seamus allowed Pat to live in the small house on his land in return for odd jobs done about the place. It worked well for everyone until Seamus died. Pat was heartbroken; especially when Conor gutted the house and had it remodelled. Eventually Conor went to him, assured Pat nothing would change and that he was welcome to stay in the cottage for as long as he wanted. Over time, Pat settled back in and began doing odd jobs about the place like he had for Conor’s father. He’s not much of a talker but he’s never refused an invitation into the house before.
With his head bent, Pat walks closer to me. Then, removing his cap, he stares at Shay, then he cries and walks away. There’s nothing anyone can do or say because Pat is Pat.
* * *
Leaving for the office to drop the forms back that Olive needed signing, Conor asks if I’ll be okay on my own. He had taken the week off work to be here with me but with Shay arriving early not everything had been in place. Apparently taking time off work is unheard of for Conor and something I’m going to have to work on. I’m not spending my life waiting for him to come home from the office. Or begging him to go on holidays.
During our short engagement it never came up, because I was always pregnant. Airports without alcohol just didn’t appeal to me. But now I’m ready – well, I should be in a few weeks – and as soon as I think Shay can travel, or he’s old enough for Amanda to babysit him, I’m going to suggest we take a break away.
With Conor out and Shay sleeping in the crib, the house feels eerily quiet. I’m eager to ring Amanda but she won’t be home from work until after five and I don’t like bothering her during her busy working day. Out in the hallway, I notice two more cards have arrived with the post. I open them straight away. Like ripping off a plaster. It’s not that I’m expecting any more shocks, but I wasn’t expecting the first one either.
Thankfully, they are just regular congratulations, no malice attached. But it does make me think I should check the handwriting on the malicious card. Maybe it will match up with one of these.
The magazine is still sitting on the counter where I left it. The knot in my stomach grows as I reach my hand out. I’m nervous, I don’t want to read those words again, but I have to try and figure out who sent it. Lifting the magazine, I toss it to the side and grab the cards. Two cards. But there were three. Where is the other one? The one with the pink envelope. Grabbing the magazine, I shake it. Nothing. I shake it again. Nothing. Deep breath after deep breath – I try to calm the panic rushing through my body. I check the floor, the bin, the drawers, the presses, pulling and searching for the pink envelope, but I can’t find it. It’s gone. The card is gone.
Chapter Seven
What do I do now? Do I tell Conor about the card? Will he think I’ve gone mad? Will the hormones be brought into the dock? I’m certain I put it with the other cards underneath the magazine. Almost certain. Between pain and painkillers, I’m not sure if I can trust myself.
I didn’t dream it. Did I? No. I saw the card. I remember the fear. I can see the letters. Where the hell did I put it? I look around at the mess I’ve created. Every kitchen press is open including the drawers, and some of the contents ar
e strewn across the floor. I check Shay is still sleeping then hurry to tidy it up.
Everything is back in place, except my heart which is still close to my mouth, when Conor returns. My mind is completely confused now.
‘Everything okay?’ I hear his voice behind me.
‘Yes, everything’s fine.’
‘Shay?’
‘Asleep.’
‘Grand, well I’m going to make both of us a nice lunch. Mam left some ham and salad stuff in the fridge.’
I keep my eyes firmly focused on the magazine I’m pretending to read. ‘Lovely, I’m starving,’ I say.
Conor places a plate of food in front of me on the breakfast bar. In the corner, Shay lies in his crib. Fast asleep. Dreaming sweet dreams, I hope. I wonder what he thinks of me? His mammy. Does he love me yet? Is he able to love yet? Or his daddy, does he prefer him? I know the day will come when Conor will be the centre of Shay’s world. Football, fishing, going for a pint. But for now, it’s all about Mammy. I must remember to enjoy it.
‘Eat up, Laura, you’re only picking at it. You need to build your strength up.’
Conor is right. I need to at least try and finish the food on my plate.
‘It’s lovely, Conor. I’m just not that hungry.’
‘I thought you said you were starving.’
I did, didn’t I? ‘I was earlier, but my appetite seems to have disappeared. It must be the pills.’ Hoping to change the subject, I swivel on the stool and put my arm on Conor’s leg.
‘Well, how are you feeling? Are you delighted with him?’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever been more content in my life. I’m with the woman I love and now we have Shay.’