Miriam was fuming as she dusted the dried flour off the soda scone she’d just baked and placed it on the window sill to cool. The cheek of her mother-in-law to suggest that Miriam wasn’t being helpful enough to Emma now that she was pregnant.
The utter cheek of her! Miriam wiped her floury fingers on her apron, her cheeks flushed with anger. Mrs Munroe had had the nerve to suggest that Miriam bake Emma a soda scone or a tart or a sponge to tempt her appetite. Then she’d hinted that Miriam could give her a hand with her housework. It might be too taxing for Emma in her condition.
‘In her condition!’ Miriam muttered indignantly as she picked up the laundry basket full of boiled nappies and headed for the line.
‘What about my condition? I’m pregnant too and I’ve got two small children. Who’s going to bake for me and give me a hand with my housework? Interfering old busybody,’ she grumbled aloud as she began to peg nappies on the line with grim determination. But had she told her mother-in-law that she was up to her eyes herself without having to bake and do housework for Emma? Of course not, Miriam thought in self-disgust. She always had these fantasies of telling Sheila where to get off. She’d practise saying things like, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Munroe, I can’t come over to help cook for your guild evening. It’s inconvenient.’ Or, ‘I can’t come to your card night tonight, I have another engagement.’ How she longed to summon up the nerve to tell her mother-in-law, politely but firmly, to get lost. The only reason Sheila invited her to her card game was so that she could help serve the supper and wash up after it. Ellen flatly refused to have anything to do with it and usually made sure she was out for the evening.
Sheila had invited Emma to a card game soon after she’d come back from her honeymoon and Emma refused outright, saying that she couldn’t stand playing cards. Sheila was terribly huffed. Miriam couldn’t help admiring the younger girl’s nerve.
She sighed deeply and rubbed her back. She was suffering dreadful backache this pregnancy. She pulled up the line and stood enjoying the freshness of the lovely spring day. An invigorating breeze lifted her hair away from her face and caused the line full of snowy-white nappies to flutter to and fro. They’d be dry in no time, she thought with satisfaction. There was a hint of warmth in the sun, the first time she’d felt it this spring.
Her daffodils were out. Great clumps of them under the trees. Their yellow heads a vibrant contrast to the delicate clusters of snowdrops that grew alongside them. Primroses, crocuses, and vivid purple grape hyacinths edged the green sward that sloped gently down to the street that ran along the end of their garden. Miriam loved her garden. It was her haven. When she was annoyed with her mother-in-law an hour spent weeding or planting or dead-heading and pruning always restored her equilibrium. It was such a fine day Miriam decided she’d work on her flower beds for a while. The soil had dried out. It would be easy enough to break it up with a fork.
Daniel was having a nap in his pram by the back door and Connie was playing with a neighbour’s child. It was much too nice to be indoors baking, she thought defiantly, glaring in the direction of Sheila’s house which was two fields away to the west. To the south, between the budding branches of the trees, Miriam could see the black-tiled roof of Vincent and Emma’s house. Smoke curled from the chimney, its thin plumes wafting away into the deep blue of the sky. Even though they had central heating, Vincent always lit a fire for Emma, so that she could loll in front of it and read magazines or romantic novels if she wasn’t off in Dublin visiting her mother or shopping or meeting her friends for lunch. Miriam felt a pang of envy. It must be wonderful to have a car of your own and be able to come and go as you pleased. Ben needed their car to get into work and she’d never bothered to learn to drive. Well maybe she just might, she decided as she saw, with a sinking heart, her mother-in-law appear around the back of the house wheeling her bike.
‘I see you’ve baked the bread for poor Emma.’ Sheila indicated the loaf cooling on the window sill. ‘I’ll bring it with me, I’m on my way down to call in.’
Tell her it’s not for Emma, Miriam silently ordered herself. She took a deep breath. ‘Actually, Mrs Munroe—’
‘You know, you shouldn’t let him sleep in the daytime, he doesn’t need it now. No wonder he won’t sleep for you at night,’ Sheila interrupted. She leaned into the pram and gave Daniel a prod. ‘Wake up, you lazy lump, and say hello to Nannie,’ she chided. Miriam was horrified. The last thing she wanted was for Daniel to wake up. He was as cranky as hell with his teeth and he needed whatever sleep he could get, the poor little fellow.
‘Don’t wake him,’ she said hastily, but it was too late. Daniel started to bawl lustily.
‘Oh Lord!’ Miriam was disgusted.
‘He’s probably hungry.’ Sheila sniffed. She wasn’t used to Miriam showing displeasure.
‘He was only fed before he was put down. I didn’t want him woken,’ Miriam said sharply as she rocked the pram gently.
‘I was only trying to help,’ Sheila retorted, miffed. ‘When you come complaining to me that he isn’t sleeping at night, I try and give you the benefit of my experience. I used never let mine sleep in the daytime at his age. You young mothers do things differently it seems.’ Her nostrils flared and her lips pursed the way they always did when she was annoyed. ‘I’ll take that bread and be off. I’ll tell Emma you’ll be down to see if she wants a hand.’ She removed the bread from the kitchen window, put it in her bicycle basket, and cycled off in high dudgeon.
Miriam stood staring after her. She was filled with anger, resentment, frustration, and self-disgust. For the first time in her marriage, she’d stood up to Sheila and let her know that she was annoyed by her unwanted interference. But instead of keeping it up, she’d chickened out and let her mother-in-law take the loaf of bread she’d baked for her own family. And to add insult to injury, by remaining silent, she’d allowed Sheila to tell Emma she’d go and do housework for her. She was furious with Sheila, but she was far more angry and disgusted with herself.
Chapter Six
‘You’re putting on weight,’ Chris remarked as Ellen plonked herself into the car beside him. So would you be if you were five months pregnant, she was tempted to blurt out. But she said nothing. He’d kept her waiting under Clerys clock for nearly three quarters of an hour and not a word of apology. The best he could do was, ‘You’re putting on weight.’ He eased into the traffic and cast a glance in her direction.
‘Sorry about cancelling at the last moment the other night. I got one of those awful stomach bugs. Spent the day in the loo.’ Chris did his poor me voice.
She wanted to shout ‘Liar!’ at the top of her voice and rake her nails down his face. Do you think I’m a fool, she wanted to scream. But she couldn’t. She daren’t. She was only hanging on by her fingernails. She knew that Chris held the strings and she came running when he pulled them. She rarely saw him on a Friday night or Saturday night any more. At the beginning, she’d seen him twice a week at the weekends. But then he’d started making excuses, saying that he was working. Tonight was a rare exception. He’d phoned her unexpectedly this morning and asked her if she wanted to see him later. Usually it was Wednesday or Thursday when they met and she hardly ever slept over because she had to get the last bus to Glenree. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to get to work on time the following morning. She couldn’t use the excuse of staying in Miriam’s midweek.
Usually Chris took her for a quick meal and then he took her home and they had sex. Then he drove her back into town to get the last bus. Ellen hated the arrangement. She hated having to get up out of bed and get dressed after making love, and then go rushing into town to catch the last bus. It seemed sordid, somehow. But if she started moaning about it that would be the end of it. Once when she’d lost her temper, when he’d cancelled their date at the last minute, he’d told her coldly that he didn’t like nagging women. The implied threat chilled her. If Chris stopped seeing her, she was in real trouble.
She’d humoured h
im in the hope that, when she finally told him about her pregnancy, he’d think that marriage wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Though she suspected he was still seeing the blonde, she’d said nothing. She was pathetic, she knew. But the fact that he still made dates with her and seemed to enjoy them gave her comfort. Maybe he would come to understand that she was the one who would love him and cherish him as no other woman would or could. If he only realized what was there for him, he’d never look at another woman again.
‘You’re very quiet. I suppose you’re annoyed because I’m late.’ He was sulky.
‘I was just worried about you. I thought something might have happened.’
‘Daft woman.’ Chris grinned. ‘Something did happen. I made a great deal. I sold a massive insurance policy to a punter who’s loaded. I’m going to get a hefty commission. You know something, Ellen, I think the time is come for me to branch out on my own.’ He was brimming with enthusiasm and excitement, his blue eyes bright and happy as he smiled at her. All her anger and resentment melted away. She was delighted for him.
‘Oh Chris, that’s brilliant. I think you should go for it. You should definitely be working for yourself. You’ve been talking about it long enough. What’s the point in you slaving for someone else and making great deals when you don’t get the benefit of it? I think you’ll make a big success of your own company.’
‘That’s what I like about you, Ellen. You’re interested. I know I can make it on my own. It gives me great encouragement when someone else thinks so too.’ Chris was exuberant. Ellen suddenly felt very happy. She was special to him, she knew it. His blonde bombshell would never give him the support and encouragement she could.
‘I’ll be your secretary, like you said, and we’ll make a great go of it,’ she offered eagerly.
‘Hmm.’ Chris didn’t sound as enthusiastic as she did about it. She could have kicked herself for being so pushy.
‘You’ve a good job with your dad. I might not be able to afford as good wages as you’re getting.’
‘That doesn’t matter, Chris. Honest.’
‘We’ll see.’ He looked away.
Ellen’s heart sank. Oh God, he doesn’t want me, she thought in desperation and turned her head away so that he wouldn’t see that she was close to tears.
He should never have suggested that Ellen would be his secretary, Chris thought angrily as he drove towards Ringsend. It had been a flippant remark. Trust her to take it to heart. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Ellen was a great girl. Why did she have to be so intense about everything? It put pressure on him and the last thing he needed was pressure. She was totally the opposite to Suzy.
Suzy had phoned him up at lunchtime to announce that she wouldn’t be seeing him as planned that evening. She’d got an unexpected invitation to a house party in Wicklow and was planning to stay in the country for the weekend. He was flabbergasted. ‘But I’d booked tickets for the theatre, and I’d planned on bringing you out to dinner.’
‘Sorry, darling, another time. This is just too good to miss,’ had been her airy response. Suzy was so goddamn offhand. Her indifference about whether she saw him or not infuriated him. He’d assumed they’d take up where they’d left off after their short split following Emma’s party. After all it hadn’t been that much of a row. No big deal.
He’d assumed wrongly. She was keeping him at arm’s length. They’d been seeing each other for months and she was still acting like a bloody virgin. If it wasn’t for Ellen he’d have exploded from frustration. Thinking of Suzy made him feel horny.
He turned to Ellen and said placatingly, ‘Come on, let’s get a bottle of bubbly and bring it home and celebrate doing what we do best.’ He let his hand slip down along her thigh and caressed it lightly. He heard her sigh and felt her hand reach out to cover his.
‘That’s my sweet girl,’ he murmured huskily. Ellen never let him down.
‘I don’t know if I should have let you persuade me to come. Chris was furious,’ Suzy moaned as she gazed out through the window at a sullen grey sky that smothered the tops of the Wicklow hills in its gloom. ‘Oh Christ, there’s a magpie!’ She scanned the skies anxiously looking for its mate. ‘One for sorrow – not a good omen!’
‘Calm down, will you,’ Alexandra drawled from the divan where she was sprawled. ‘Let him be furious. Be glad he’s furious. It shows you’re getting to him. And you are, you know. Just trust me and hang in there.’
‘I bet he’ll ask someone else out tonight.’ Suzy was not to be soothed. She’d been keeping Chris at bay for months and it was getting very difficult. She wanted to sleep with him.
‘So what if he takes someone else out. Suzy, you’re the one he’s going to marry. You’re driving him bananas and it’s working. I’ve seen him looking at you. If you tumble into bed with him now, he’s got you where he wants you and he’ll be in no hurry to pop the question. He’s taken the line, reel him in slowly.’ Alexandra lit a cigarette and inhaled with satisfaction. ‘In fact I think you should say you met a rather dishy someone down here. Tell Chris you had a wonderful weekend and that this guy wants to see you again. Say he’s a lawyer. It sounds ever so suave . . . much better than an insurance salesman.’
‘Chris might tell me to get lost.’
‘Suzy! I’m losing patience with you. That will make him even more eager. Don’t you know anything about men?’
‘Well if you know so much about them how come you haven’t a ring on your finger yet?’
Alexandra laughed. ‘Believe me. When I see the one I want . . . I’ll have him. Who knows, he might be at the party tonight. Now take that miserable look off your face. We’re going to have fun this weekend. You’ll have a lot to tell Lover-boy Wallace by the time I’m finished with you.’
A second magpie joined its mate down on the lawn, much to Suzy’s relief. Two for joy. Alexandra’s no-nonsense lecture had restored her courage. It gave her a great sense of power to have Chris dangling on her rope for a change. To lose her nerve now would be disastrous.
Ellen watched Chris disappear through the doors of the off-licence. If only she knew where she stood with him. It was he who’d suggested that she should be his secretary. And they’d talked about it since then. As far as she was concerned it was a foregone conclusion. Men! They were all the same. Promises. Promises.
‘Oh stop it,’ she muttered. Maybe she was being oversensitive. It was the strain of being pregnant and keeping it to herself. The uncertainty, the fear of not knowing how he’d react was making her paranoid. She shouldn’t ruin her precious evening with him. Tonight was going to be wonderful.
She loved going to Chris’s house. She especially loved his bedroom. Decorated in terracotta and blue, it had an almost foreign atmosphere. The polished wooden floor had leopardskin rugs which gave the room an exotic air. Chris had lamps everywhere. The light, subtle and soft and romantic, made her feel as if she was in another world. There was a huge double bed and smart fitted wardrobes which were much more modern than her antique double-doored monstrosity. Chris had good taste. Much better than Emma, whose decor was way over the top. A night in that luxurious romantic room with Chris was all she desired.
It was Friday night too. She could stay over. She’d warned Miriam that she’d told her mother she’d be staying overnight in her house. Poor Miriam was always in a state the nights Ellen stayed with Chris for fear that Sheila would come looking for her. It had never happened yet. Miriam didn’t approve of her sleeping with Chris. Her sister-in-law was very old-fashioned. This was the sixties and lots of couples were doing it. Ellen would try and explain, but Miriam was not impressed. ‘If he respected you, he’d wait until you were married,’ she warned. Ellen hated when she said that. It was too near the bone. Sometimes she was afraid that she wouldn’t see Chris at all if she wasn’t sleeping with him. Don’t think about it now, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind as Chris drove up his drive and leaned over and kissed her hungrily
.
It was the nicest night she had ever spent with him. All her fears and worries receded into the background as they made love, drank champagne and talked for hours about his plans. She didn’t mention anything about being his secretary again. Later as she watched him sleeping Ellen studied every detail of his face. His long silky black lashes, his firm well-shapen mouth, the little dent in his chin, now darkened by five o’clock shadow. In sleep he looked boyish and she felt a fierce surge of almost maternal affection. She wanted so much to take care of him and be part of his life. She had such love to lavish on him, if only he would let her. She lay cradling him in her arms daring to plan and dream of a future with him.
She’d have to tell him about her pregnancy. So far it hadn’t been too difficult to conceal. She’d worn loose tops and trousers and, because she’d always been on the voluptuous side, her weight gain hadn’t been too noticeable. Nothing like Miriam who was now eight months pregnant and as heavy as a walrus. Emma was as petite as anything, apart from her small rounded bump, which was causing her immense distress.
But in the last few weeks, Ellen had felt herself get bigger. She’d asked Miriam very casually about it. Miriam said that one minute it seemed as though you could pass for being overweight and all of a sudden your body just spread out all over, boobs and belly everywhere. ‘It always happens to me around the fifth month,’ Miriam said, unaware of the consternation she was causing Ellen.
She knew the time was coming when not even the best roll-on was going to contain her. Besides she was beginning to get dreadful heartburn from squashing herself into the one she wore to conceal her pregnancy.
Chris had told her last night she’d have to go on a diet but then he’d laughed as he caressed her breasts and said not to. He loved big girls. She’d almost told him there and then, but something stopped her. She wanted one more perfect night with him before she told him about their child. Sleep was a long time coming. Her mind raced hither and yon as she tried to anticipate what her lover’s reaction would be to her news. Dawn was breaking before Ellen finally fell into a deep sleep.
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