“The person at the next table is a reporter for the Daily Telegraph. If you don’t want the argument in the paper tomorrow, you’ll wait. Now when we get back out there, you’re going to change the subject and we’ll finish this argument at home.” I didn’t dare disagree, nor did I want to; I had well and truly been put in my box.
He left me standing there, totally nonplussed, casually walked over to the wash hand basin and started casually and unhurriedly washing his hands as if using the ladies’ WC was an everyday occurrence for him and he had every right to be there. I was still open-mouthed and admonished. He re-joined his parents at the table, but it took me another couple of minutes to gather myself and return to the table. He invited his parents back to the apartment after dinner to discuss the issue. The thing was, Michael was of their opinion, and he felt I should take the shares. I was swamped by them all. And I felt ill and exhausted. To me it was obvious: this was a world that I didn’t belong in. I told James if he insisted on me taking the shares I’d have to leave Banbury’s, but I knew I was going to leave now as soon as a suitable job came up, whether he transferred the shares or not. I also knew that the next day I was going back to the house in Ruislip. I was so grateful the girls hadn’t let the room out yet. This wedding was not happening. Much and all as I loved Michael, I was beginning to realise he was the tiniest cog in the Banbury machine and I didn’t fit in.
Nothing he said could make a difference. I packed up my stuff first thing the next morning because putting it off was only prolonging the agony. Siobhan Brennan from Easkey was never going to be able to cut it as a society wife. It didn’t matter how much I loved him; sooner or later I was going to revert to type. Small-town girl. I could walk now, before there were messy divorces or children, or I could put it off for another five years, but sooner or later our backgrounds were going to split us and I’d be a fool to think differently. I was in bits, but still I felt it was the right decision. Michael wasn’t even there; he left when he couldn’t persuade me to stay. He said he couldn’t bear to watch me pack. I left his ring on the hall stand as I left. I climbed into a cab on my way to Ruislip with tears streaming down my face and the Whitney Houston song, “Didn’t We Almost Have It All” going round and round in my head. We so nearly did have it all, but I couldn’t take the trappings.
* * *
Mam and Dad were great. I phoned them and they said they’d be over next weekend, but I asked them to wait until the following one as they had already planned. I needed to lick my wounds in solitude. In the heel of the reel they agreed, but the condition was that they came for a week instead of a weekend. I took Monday and Tuesday off work as I as I truly felt ill, but by Wednesday I knew I had to go back. Anyway, I felt quite strong as I thought I was doing the right thing. It was really hard facing Michael, but I decided it was best not to shut him out. I tried to explain that however much I loved him, it just wasn’t enough for me to deal with the extras that came as part of the package. I still felt unwell, but keeping busy seemed to help.
By Friday, as I was due to start my next package of the pill I realised I’d missed my period, but I thought nothing of it as was stressed to the eyeballs. It was only when I read the instructions on the leaflet about what to do if you skipped a period that it dawned on me I needed to do a pregnancy test. Then I remembered that my last period had only lasted one day but I hadn’t worried then because there had been some bleeding and life was crazy at the time. Still I stayed calm. It had been a strange couple of months. I just decided I’d put off starting it until evening and in the meantime I’d buy a test just to reassure myself, which I did at lunchtime. I went back to the office and peed on the stick. It said I’d need to wait three minutes, so when the plus sign came up within seconds I knew I was fucked. Well, bang went looking for a new job! I wrecked my head trying to figure out when it could have happened; after all I was on the pill.
I realised then that doing a pregnancy test at work was absolutely the single most stupid act I’d ever done in my life. I wanted to sob my heart out, but I didn’t want anyone to see I was upset as I’d have to explain myself. The man I really needed to discuss it with was only two doors down, but I’d already cut him out of my life. I needed to consider all the implications, but time and space were luxuries I wasn’t going to get at work. I wanted to leave work early, but I’d already missed two days, so I shoved it into a cobwebbed corner of my brain to revisit later. I don’t know how I did it, but I played happy Siobhan for the rest of the day ‘til home time. And by the time I got to Ruislip I’d been acting for long enough to pretend it wasn’t happening. I didn’t even tell Claire and Tara. But by now I had figured I must have vomited up the pill the morning I went to James’ and that was about two months ago.
To tell the truth, I left it in the recesses of my mind until Mam and Dad came over. And even at that we had about four days together, doing the sights, going to shows, and pretending I was wonderful. Mam really wanted to believe that and I didn’t want to disabuse her of the notion. It was Dad who got through my hard shell. We were in their hotel one night and Mam had gone on to bed. Dad had had one or two too many, which was really unusual for him. Looking back, it was probably deliberate.
“You’re copping out, Shiv, that’s not how I reared you, what’s going on?”
Fuck, he was so right. Copping out was exactly what I had been at. But now I was in a mess there was no escaping. My tears flowed.
“Oh, Dad, it’s worse than that,” I cried. “I left because Michael’s family were unbearable and the press was too much. I miss him like mad. I can’t bear to look at him at work and know I’ve lost him, but I can’t bloody leave because last week I found out I’m pregnant and who’ll hire a pregnant woman that’ll only be there a wet week before she goes on maternity leave?” I saw the worry lines etch instantly on his face. And anger.
“So what did he say when you told him?”
“Back off, Dad,” I warned. I could see what he was thinking: that Michael was trying to disown his own kid. “He doesn’t know yet, I need to get it straight myself first.”
“So it’s definitely Michael’s then?” he asked, leaving me seething.
“Feck, what do you take me for?” I snapped.
I was really offended—touchy as hell, I’d eaten nothing but digestive biscuits with glasses of milk since that meal with Michael’s family and I was operating on an average of two hours sleep a night. I was a physical and emotional wreck. I certainly didn’t need this shit.
“Sorry, Shiv, it’s just things are so different nowadays, who knows what’s going on? So are you going to tell him? Are you going to have the baby? What are your plans or have you even worked that out? You can always come home, you know, and we can help.”
His words were all slurring together. I knew he’d had a few drinks, but I didn’t think he was that drunk. The whole room started spinning and the sounds were floating above my head. I was part of the scene, but didn’t belong in it, watching it as if from the outside…
Epilogue
There was a sea of strange faces and hands surrounding me, lifting me up, and someone was holding a mask over my mouth and nose. I felt like it was choking me, that I couldn’t breathe and I started clawing it away in panic. What were all those people dong around me?
“Dad! Where’s my dad?” I cried out in fear, certain that I had been with him only a moment ago. What was going on? Everything seemed fuzzy.
“He’s right there, he’ll be with you in a moment,” I was gently told. “We’re bringing you to the hospital for a few tests. You’ve been out cold for fifteen minutes…”
I saw Michael standing back a little, his face ashen. I obviously had him worried. But how did he get here? Mam and Dad must have called him. I didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved.
“One of you can come in the ambulance with her; the others will have to make their own way,” one of them advised as they lifted the stretcher into the vehicle.
I heard Mic
hael tell Mam to get in the ambulance; that he had his car and he’d bring Dad along. I called him over. I needed to be the one to tell him about the baby, not the doctors, or—even worse—my parents. I asked the paramedics to give us a couple of minutes’ privacy. They weren’t happy about leaving their charge. They would probably get in all sorts of trouble if they were caught, but they reluctantly agreed as I said I would just walk out of the ambulance if they didn’t leave.
“Michael, there’s nothing much wrong; stop looking so worried. I’m just pregnant. I’ve always had low blood pressure and I fainted. It’s not the first time. I don’t know why they’re making such a fuss.”
“WHAT? And you didn’t tell me. How long have you known? Jesus Christ, Shiv, what were you playing at?” I could see he wanted to add a lot more, but he was biting his tongue. He blanched to the point that I reckoned I probably looked healthier than he did.
“I needed to get my own head around it first, Michael, I only found out a couple of days ago. I would have told you soon enough.”
“Shit, I’m going to be a dad, that’s wonderful.” His face lit with excitement as the reality sank in. Then further reality; we were no longer a couple. It darkened again.
“So what’s the plan, Shiv?” he asked anxiously. “Are you going to have the baby?”
“Of course I’m going to have it. Jesus, what do you take me for?” I snapped.
At the raised voices the paramedics came back and ran him off. I’d love to have been a fly on the wall in his car on the way to the hospital. I shuddered to think about the conversation between him and Dad. No maybe not, best not to hear it. But at least I had got in there first. When we arrived at the hospital, I was whisked off for registration and blood tests and Mam stayed with me. I had graduated to a wheelchair by now, which was an improvement. But they refused to let me walk because my blood pressure was so low and they were afraid I’d faint again. I had a wait for a radiographer to arrive to do the scan, so at that point Mam did a switchover with Michael as she was adamant he should be there for the scan. But I kind of wanted her. At least I knew, whatever happened, she was on my side. Michael was a different story. He was hurt and angry and I didn’t know how he was going to behave. I was still lightheaded and wasn’t really ready for “the chat.” I knew I loved him; that wasn’t the problem. I just didn’t love the Banbury machine and the way it swamped me. I did want to marry Michael, I knew that, but I didn’t want to marry the business and for now I could see no way around that.
His face was uptight as he came into the room. “Your mother told me to come, is it ok? I’d like to be with you for the first scan, please.”
I half-smiled my assent. I could see how important it was to him. And in a moment of clarity, I knew we’d figure something out. It would be ok. I could see Michael as a daddy. It just felt right.
“I hope you’ll be with me for all the scans and the birth and the dirty nappies too,” I said and the room brightened with the radiance from his smile.
“I know I asked you this before,” he said, taking something out of his pocket. “But Siobhan Brennan, will you marry me?”
“You always pick your moments,” I laughed. “Yes, Michael, I’d love to marry you. But my way, not your parents’ choice. Now do you always go around with that damn ring in your pocket?”
“I have been for the last few weeks. I kept hoping you’d change your mind again.”
“I thought I’d blown it.” I couldn’t help the tears that were trailing down my cheeks. I realised that pregnancy hormones had a lot to answer for, maybe even my walking out on Michael in the first place. The radiographer came in smiling.
“Don’t worry,” she said soothingly, misreading the situation. “We think you fainted from low blood pressure. I’m sure everything is fine. We’ll have you checked out in no time.”
She told me to lower my jeans and gave me a blanket to cover myself. I flinched as the cold jelly hit my belly. Michael had a tight grasp on my hand. She placed the probe firmly on my tummy; the pressure was almost painful, especially as they had made me drink plenty of fluids as we didn’t know my dates. Her facial expressions kept changing. I didn’t like the look of it and was starting to get worried, but she wasn’t giving anything away.
Finally she spoke. “I just need to get the gynaecologist for a moment; don’t worry, there’s absolutely nothing wrong, I promise. I’ll be back in a minute or two.”
Michael looked as worried as I felt. We sat in silence, afraid to verbalise our concerns. What was wrong with our baby? She didn’t lie; she was back within a couple of minutes, but those minutes felt like hours.
She started scanning again, and the gynaecologist was watching intently and nodding her agreement.
“Ms Brennan, all I can say is double congratulations; you’re having twins, and both appear to be perfectly well and healthy. From the scan I’d say you’re about ten weeks pregnant.”
Thanks be to God I was lying down when I heard that because I swear otherwise I’d have fainted again. I had gone from being Siobhan Brennan, newly single to expectant mother of twins and wife-to-be in the course of a few minutes. It was a like a crazy roller coaster ride—bumpy as hell, but too short. Michael was just grinning like a flaming lunatic; he was no damn help at all. I wanted my Mammy—and bloody hell, I was going to need her for a while when this pair were born. Holy cow, two babies. Someone somewhere was having a huge laugh at my expense. The only solution was to laugh with them. And so I did, but it was more hysteria than happiness.
I was discharged the next morning. As suspected, there had been nothing wrong, I had fainted as a result of low blood pressure and low blood sugar as I hadn’t been eating correctly. Apparently milk and chocolate digestives didn’t constitute a healthy eating plan for an expectant mother of twins. I got a big lecture from the medical staff about looking after myself and how my body would need regular and appropriate fuel as it would be working overtime to let two babies grow and develop. Michael was adamant I was going straight back “home” as he called it. No more of this nonsense of staying with the girls. He was insistent that he should look after me as I had obviously been doing such a crap job of it myself.
* * *
The wedding plans absorbed my life for the next month. I hadn’t even time to think about parenthood. The best part of it was that our desire to have the wedding as soon as possible meant that James and Lydia’s plans for a big society event were thwarted. We organised a small intimate wedding, family and close friends, which was what I had wanted in the first place. But I was adamant I wanted a church do, even though we belonged to different churches. I didn’t really mind which church, it was after all the same God; I just wanted to feel it was blessed by Him. So many times over the last number of months we had laughed about how we had been made for one another, our desires and needs were so closely interlinked. We had laughed on so many countless occasions over one of my mother’s favourite sayings: God made us and then he matched us. So when the chips were down, it seemed really important suddenly to make our vows in the eyes of our heavenly Father.
I lost the battle of the shares. But I didn’t mind so much now as I could console myself that I was just holding them in safekeeping for my children. It seemed that James had suspected my pregnancy and that was why he wanted me to have them; it made him feel secure to know that no matter what happened between Michael and me, his first grandchild’s future was safeguarded. I had a feeling life was going to teach me a lot about compromise from here on in as I would have to learn to juggle Siobhan the career woman, Siobhan the wife, and Siobhan the mother.
The day of the wedding finally arrived. Gloria and Kate had kitted me out to perfection in an ivory broderie anglaise ballet-length dress, which I could still just about fit into. My tummy seemed to be expanding daily with the fruits of our love. Michael had taken himself off to his dad’s house the night before. Mam and Dad stayed with me and my sisters and brother; Tara and Claire all stayed in a hotel beside us,
where we were holding the wedding reception. They were beating the door down by eight a.m. I hadn’t slept a wink. Thank goodness for make-up. The hairdresser and beautician were from the store and they considered it a matter of pride that they do a good job on me! Their careers depended on it in their minds.
My hair was pinned back from my face, rolled back either side, but left flowing in soft curls down my back, creating a dramatic contrast to the ivory dress. I wore no veil, but the hairdresser had woven some angel’s breath flowers into the sides of my hair.
The make-up artist was wonderful. Never having been a big wearer of make-up, I had warned her that I wanted it natural at the trial, but that was before I’d had sleepless nights and pregnancy taking their toll. Now I was all for heavy foundation; the heavier, the better! Somehow, she managed to make me look fresh-faced and as if I was barely wearing any make-up, but I knew different; there was a ton of the stuff on me. She then did Mam’s and the girls’ make-up. Amazingly we were all dressed and ready on time. I wasn’t doing any of the bridesmaids lark, as I wanted as little fuss as possible.
Even though it was only a five-minute walk to the church, I wasn’t willing to walk up the street dressed like a dog’s dinner, so we had organised a limo to come and collect us. As we were waiting, Dad popped a bottle of champagne. I have to admit pregnant and all as I was, a very small drop seemed like an excellent idea as I was a bag of nerves.
“Does this mean I’m finally getting rid of you?” he asked, laughing as he filled the glasses.
“Not a hope in hell,” I warned with a mischievous tone.
“Good, that’s what I like to hear. You look a million dollars, I’m so proud of you, Shiv.”
My Naughty Little Secret Page 23