He’d told Bob that he wanted the vasectomy as a birthday present for Shauna, when the urologist had told him that he needed a form signed by his wife, giving her consent. ‘Honestly, Bob, if I told her I was having one, she’d freak. She wouldn’t allow it. She’d be too worried about me,’ he’d lied. ‘She’s heading for forty and she’s coming off the Pill and she definitely doesn’t want to get pregnant again, and to tell the truth I don’t want any more children either. We’re very happy the way we are.’
‘What if you meet someone else and your marriage ends and she wants children?’ the urologist pointed out.
‘Highly unlikely. And even if Shauna ever left me and I did meet someone new, I wouldn’t want more kids now. I’m too old for young babies. We had visitors with a toddler at Christmas and more at Easter and I nearly went crazy. They’re so noisy! They’re constantly falling and hurting themselves. Nothing was safe. My sister’s kid at Christmas broke a Tiffany lamp, the little bastard.’ Greg scowled and Bob laughed.
‘Look, are you sure about this? It’s a quid pro quo, I do the vasectomy and you do up the plans for my villa in Melbourne and we keep it just between us.’ Bob eyeballed him. ‘I could get struck off, you know,’ he reminded him as he passed him the form to forge Shauna’s signature.
‘Just between us,’ Greg had agreed, signing with a flourish, recognizing a kindred spirit. At the time it had seemed so simple and he’d been completely untroubled by scruples.
He stood up and poured himself a glass of whiskey from a bottle given to him by an appreciative client. He knew that he shouldn’t drink with the tablets but he wanted to take the edge off his guilt. It was an emotion he wasn’t used to and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if Shauna ever found out. And he was so petrified something had gone badly wrong and that he’d never be the man, physically, he was pre-vasectomy. There was every chance she’d find out something was amiss.
It was all her fault anyway, he thought irrationally. He’d told her over and over that he didn’t want another child. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? Why was she annoying the daylights out of him about having another baby when she knew that in his heart of hearts he was completely against it? ‘Is this what you want?’ he’d demanded when Ashley had sent a ridiculously expensive Tiffany lamp smashing into smithereens when he’d careered into the small table that held it.
‘Every kid’s not like him,’ she’d raged, furious with Ashley and with Della for not keeping him under control.
When a colleague had told him that he’d had the snip recently, he’d got the name of the surgeon and made an appointment to see him. Now he was bitterly regretting that decision. Bob Kelly had already shown himself to be a bent surgeon; just say he was a crap surgeon as well and that Greg was deformed for life. He broke out in a cold sweat, groaning as a burning pain shot through his balls.
‘Oh fuck!’ he muttered. ‘What the hell have I done?’
Half an hour later Shauna, Carrie and Dan were drinking champagne on the deck of Shauna’s new mobile. Mrs Feeney had agreed straight away to sell to Shauna and generously told her to start using the mobile as soon as she wanted to when Shauna assured her that the cheque would be in the post by the end of the week. Her daughters had cleaned it out and closed it up for the rest of the season after their father’s hospitalization, so all their personal possessions were gone.
‘We’ve got a mobile home, Mom, this is the best thing ever.’ Chloe was dancing up and down with excitement. ‘Can we stay tonight?’
‘No, not tonight, darling, but maybe tomorrow if you’re good,’ Shauna promised her, hugging her tightly.
‘YIPPEE!!!!!’ Her joyous yell could be heard across the park. Dan and Carrie laughed. The children were hyper with delight, exploring the new mobile, which could sleep six comfortably. Great plans were being made for a sleepover and a midnight swim and midnight feasts.
‘You’ve got a great site, too. One of the best in the park. Sea views and the beach just below you. You always land on your feet, Cassidy.’ Dan dug her in the ribs.
‘Bet you’re sorry you didn’t marry me,’ she grinned.
‘Ah I’m happy enough with my old dear here. She’s not a bad old doll.’ He drew Carrie close to him. ‘Here’s to happy family times in Shauna’s mobile.’ He raised his glass.
‘To happy family times,’ they all chorused as the setting sun cast a pearly glow over them and birdsong and sea music accompanied their light-hearted toast.
31
‘I can go home tomorrow?’ Filomena looked utterly shocked.
‘Yes. If you agree to take six weeks on half pay for June and July, and then full pay for your holiday in August, you can go home tomorrow. I can book tickets from Dublin to Heathrow and Heathrow to Manila on the net. I’ve checked and there are flights available. Chloe and I are going to Whiteshells Bay until Greg comes home.’
‘Oh, ma’am, this is a miracle from God.’ Tears welled up in the young woman’s eyes.
‘I take it that’s a yes, then?’ Shauna grinned.
‘Oh, yes, ma’am! Yes!’ Filomena was dazed with joy.
‘Go pack,’ her employer instructed. ‘And when you’re packed, pack a case for Chloe. We’re going on our holidays to the seaside.’ She laughed, feeling more light-hearted and giddy than she’d done in years. ‘I’m going to book your tickets and then go and pick up Bobby. We’ll be back soon. I’m going to bring him to an art exhibition tonight but we won’t be home late because you’ll have an early start in the morning.’
‘OK, ma’am.’ Filomena practically danced out of the room. Shauna was delighted with herself. She often felt sorry for her young au pair, knowing how much she missed her family and homeland. It was a hard life for the young woman. Shauna knew that she sent home half her wages to provide for her family. At least she wasn’t married. She’d met many Filipino women who had children back in the Philippines, being raised by family members, while their mothers worked like Trojans to provide an education and a good lifestyle for them. Shauna thought it was heart-rending and truly admired their stoic sacrifice. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to do it.
She was glad Filomena would have six extra weeks at home. It would tie her down a little, if she wanted to go out at night, but she’d decided, anyway, that she was going to devote this summer to her daughter and that was what she was going to do.
There was an air of excitement in the house. Filomena was packing, and humming. Chloe was organizing her dolls for their holidays. Shauna felt the stress seep out of her body. She was going to read and swim and spend time with her daughter and sister. She knew it was going to be a wonderful interlude. When Greg came home, she’d entertain their neighbours. Until then, her time was hers to do what she liked. What an unexpected blessing, she reflected as her fingers tapped in the details of her credit card number to book Filomena’s flights. It was like The Great Escape.
Sylvia had called in around ten the previous night, soon after she and Chloe arrived home tired and exhilarated from Whiteshells Bay. They’d chatted about the neighbours and her friend had brought her up to speed on all the goings-on, including Orla and Denis’s drama. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be over to tell you what a bastard Denis is. We’ve all had it,’ Sylvia assured her, giggling tipsily after her third glass of wine.
As she listened to her friend chattering away, Shauna was even more pleased that she was going away until August. She had enough problems in her own life to try to cope with. She was in no mood to be an agony aunt to the neighbours.
‘Actually, Sylvia, I won’t be here for a few weeks. Chloe and I are going to Whiteshells Bay to help Carrie out with Dad. I’m letting Filomena go home early and we’re heading off the day after tomorrow with Bobby. I’ll come back in August when Greg’s here. I probably won’t have the lunch until them.’ She didn’t mention the mobile home. She didn’t want Sylvia suggesting a visit with her eight-year-old twins. This year she just wanted to b
e free of friends and acquaintances. She was all entertained out, she thought ruefully. She just wasn’t in the humour for any of it.
‘Aw, no! I was really looking forward to having you home and having a day away from the cooker. Your lunches are such fun. And besides, you’ll have to invite Alice in August,’ Sylvia protested.
‘I’ll deal with that when the time comes,’ Shauna murmured.
‘Well honestly, you’re only home a couple of days and you’re deserting us already.’ Sylvia drained her glass and held it out for a refill.
‘These things happen,’ Shauna said easily, trying not to yawn. The sea air had knocked her for six and she was longing for bed. Sylvia had stayed drinking until one a.m. before tottering woozily across the road.
It would be her that would be doing the tipsy tottering from now on, Shauna thought happily as she laid out trousers, jeans and an array of pastel cut-offs on the bed. Knowing the vagaries of the Irish weather she took out a selection of sweaters and fleeces. At least her mobile home had central heating. She was beginning to adjust to the cooler climate again but she still found the nights very cold and wore thermals in bed. She pulled out a couple of pairs of warm pjs as well, and a pair of bedsocks. Utterly unsexy but warm.
She felt like a child going on vacation.
‘I can’t keep up with you,’ Bobby laughed from the back seat as he listened to her news several hours later, his arm tucked round Chloe who was revelling in having him all to herself.
‘Oh, Bobby, it’s going to be fun.’ Shauna bubbled. ‘We’re not going until tomorrow because I’ve to bring Filomena to the airport. Besides, I thought you’d like one night with us before going home.’ She glanced at him in the rear-view mirror.
‘It feels a bit weird,’ he confessed.
‘Dad’s fluttering around like a regular Mrs Mop, making sure everything is all right for the “royal visit”. I think he’s nervous too.’ She caught his gaze.
‘That makes two of us.’
‘Stay calm. We’ll have a few barbies and I’ll send you home singing every night,’ she promised.
‘You must be looking forward to Bobby’s visit, all the same,’ Mrs O’Neill remarked as she poured her neighbour a cup of tea. She’d dropped in a loaf of fresh baked currant soda bread, remembering how much Bobby had loved it as a child.
‘I suppose I am. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, though, and our last words to one another were harsh when he left. I’m a little apprehensive,’ Noel admitted. ‘This gay thing is difficult to deal with.’
‘Don’t be fretting about all that now, Noel. That’s all in the past. You wrote the letter to him and he responded, so move on from there,’ his neighbour advised matter-of-factly. ‘And think how lucky you are to have your three children around this summer.’
‘I know, Mrs O’Neill. I do give thanks for it,’ Noel assured her. ‘Will any of yours be home this year?’ he asked kindly, feeling very sorry for his friend.
His neighbour brightened and a smile creased her worn face. ‘Did I not tell you? Brona is coming home for six weeks at Christmas with the children. I’m delighted, Noel. It can’t come quick enough.’ Her bright blue eyes, undimmed by age, shone with anticipation.
‘That’s great news, great news,’ Noel said warmly, delighted for her. She was a lovely neighbour, even if she had some very unusual religious beliefs, he acknowledged, as he watched her rinse the teacups and dry them. He felt very comfortable with her, the true sign of a good friendship.
When she was gone, he made his way down to Bobby’s bedroom and opened the window to air the room. He really should get a new bed for him, he reflected as he stared out the window. Twiskers came into the room and hopped onto the bed, which was bathed in sunlight.
‘Get out of it, you scamp,’ he admonished, not wanting cat hairs all over the covers. He gave her a small tap on the rump. Twiskers stared up at him with haughty indignation and stalked out of the room, waving her tail. Noel laughed. That cat was a character. There was no doubt about it.
What would he say to Bobby? he wondered. Should he shake hands? Or should he behave as if nothing had happened between them? He was relieved that his son wasn’t coming home until the following day. It meant that he’d only be staying for three nights. That was a terrible thing to think, he acknowledged guiltily, but three nights was enough for this first trip. There was no need for him to come home to look after him. He was managing fine with Carrie’s help.
Noel sighed and looked at the bed again. It had a terrible sag in the middle. Maybe Dan might be able to bring him to buy one in Drogheda. He could carry it back in his big delivery van. He limped out to the hall and picked up the phone and dialled Carrie’s number.
‘I like this one,’ Bobby declared, pointing out a particularly colourful abstract in sharp-angled reds and blacks.
‘I hate abstract. I’d much prefer that one.’ Shauna pointed to a delicate watercolour of autumn trees. They were strolling around the big, high-ceilinged showrooms of the Kennedy Gallery in Harcourt Street, in the city, sipping a glass of wine each and commenting on all the paintings as the artist stood nervously wondering whether there would be any precious red dots placed on his work to indicate a sale.
‘Oh, look, look at this one,’ Bobby exclaimed, pointing to a small, exquisitely executed water-colour of a field of glorious red and yellow poppies. ‘Anton would love that.’
‘Let’s see how much it is.’ Shauna glanced down the list. ‘Number twenty-two. Four hundred and fifty euros. Very reasonable for an original.’
‘Yes, moneybags,’ Bobby riposted. ‘I could buy it for his birthday in August. I know he’d love it.’
‘Buy it then,’ Shauna urged.
‘I’d have to write a sterling cheque.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ Shauna whipped out her chequebook. ‘I’ll get it and you can sort me out later.’
‘But we’ve to leave it in the exhibition until the end of the month. I won’t be here,’ he dithered.
‘I’ll collect it. Do you want it or not?’
‘Right. OK then.’ Bobby let himself be bulldozed. Moments later a little red dot reposed discreetly on a corner of the painting and he studied it with pleasure. The perfect present for his beloved, he thought happily.
‘Let’s go and have some chow,’ he suggested after they had perused the paintings several times and clapped politely at the speeches. ‘My treat. Anywhere good near by?’
Shauna wrinkled her nose. ‘Wagamama’s if you feel Japanesy, or Mao’s is more Thai oriented,’ she suggested.
‘Thai sounds good. Lead on, big sis.’
‘Less of the big sis, please.’ Shauna glanced down at herself, feeling the tightness of the cream linen trousers she was wearing. She’d want to start watching her weight. She was putting it on. It was all those Club Milks and crisps she was devouring at Carrie’s. ‘We’ll walk briskly,’ she ordered, striding off ahead of him towards Grafton Street.
‘Hold on a minute,’ Bobby protested, hurrying to catch up with her. The streets were buzzing at the tail end of the teatime rush. Couples strolled along arm in arm. Businessmen and women hurried along, frowning and preoccupied, talking animatedly into mobile phones as they made their way home from work. Birds sang in the verdant greenery of Stephen’s Green. It was a beautiful summer’s evening. Shauna was enjoying herself. It was great to be home.
‘This is nice, having a meal together, isn’t it? Pity Carrie’s not here,’ she remarked, half an hour later, as they tucked into Malaysian chicken for her and sizzling prawns for him. There was a convivial hum of chat and laughter in the restaurant and the food was very tasty. ‘You know, I think it’s going to be a terrific summer for us all,’ she confided, spearing a piece of chicken and dipping it into the creamy coconut sauce.
‘It’s starting off well,’ he agreed. ‘So far it’s been a good year for the McCarthy clan. We all met out in Abu Dhabi, Dad and I have a truce of sorts and now you’ve bought your mob
ile home and Chloe’s going to get to spend a lot of time with her cousins. Perhaps you’re right. Maybe all our bad times are over.’ He offered her a prawn to taste and she reciprocated with a piece of creamy chicken.
‘I feel they are, Bobby, I really do,’ she said earnestly. ‘Let’s let go of the past and enjoy being on good terms with Dad. The past has caused us enough misery and he does seem to be making the effort.’
‘I’m with you all the way,’ Bobby agreed, lifting his glass. ‘To Family!’ he toasted.
‘To Family,’ she echoed, hoping that this time next year there’d be a new little member of the clan.
Lucky Bobby and Shauna, Carrie thought enviously, wishing that she was gadding about town with her siblings, who had just texted her in riotous good form, full of the joys. Instead, she was stuck in a furniture shop waiting for her father to buy a bed.
‘Dad, this one is fine, honestly,’ she assured her father as they stood looking at a selection of divan beds in the shop in Drogheda. ‘I’ll ring Dan and ask him to go to the loading bay and get them to load one into the van. That’s if they have one in stock. If it was a double bed, you could forget it. You’d be waiting for weeks.’
‘You don’t think it’s too hard?’ Noel thumped it.
‘It’s fine, Dad. Come on. I don’t want to leave the kids with Sadie too long; it’s well past Hannah’s bedtime.’
‘Oh. Oh, right. Sorry, I didn’t think,’ Noel apologized.
What’s new? Carrie thought irritably. She’d been in the middle of cooking dinner when Noel had phoned her and informed her that he wanted to go and buy a new bed for Bobby and asking would Dan be able to bring him in the van.
‘I’d like to give him a surprise, and that bed can’t be very comfortable. It’s donkey’s years old.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’d like him to know that I went to a bit of effort to welcome him home.’
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