I snuggled down under my duvet. ‘At least you tried. And you should keep trying. He’ll come around eventually.’
‘I sat on the plane over here, going over the conversation in my head. The reality is that Donal’s going to be really busy for the next eight months, with almost every weekend taken up with rugby commentating and writing his column. But we’ll just have to try to make some time to spend together or we’ll be like ships passing in the night.’
‘How about making Sunday your date night?’ I suggested.
‘I thought about that, but I want to go to bed in good time on Sunday because I’m up so early to catch the first flight to London.’
‘I forgot about that. Will Donal be working a lot of Saturday nights?’
‘Well, he’ll be travelling to the UK and France for some of the away matches, but most of the time he’ll be in the studio commentating and then writing his column afterwards, so he’s never normally home before about ten.’
‘God, it’s going to be hard to find time between both of your busy lives.’
Lucy sighed. ‘It’ll take a lot of effort to make this work. I know that by the end of the week I’ll be exhausted, and I’m going to be looking after Serge all weekend. Honestly, Emma, I feel tired just thinking about it. But I know lots of women with high-flying careers also manage a home life, so I’ll have to figure it out.’
‘Well, if I can help at all, let me know. Now, tell me about work.’ I decided to get her to focus on her job: she liked talking about that.
Lucy’s voice immediately took on a different tone. She sounded happy and enthusiastic. ‘Well, we hit the ground running. We had back-to-back meetings and conference calls all day. But the best part of it is that I’m completely in charge. It’s brilliant, Emma. This is my company, my creation, and I’m really excited about it. I think we make a fantastic team. Alan and Paul are bright, ambitious and energetic. So, yeah, a good first day. I actually think Image Leasing is going to be a big success, if I don’t jinx it by saying that!’
‘Oh, Lucy, that’s great to hear.’ I was glad she was positive and upbeat about something in her life. While I might not see eye to eye with her on working away all week, I did want her to be happy, and her career had always been hugely important to her. It was a very big part of her identity. I suppose I had never considered that it would be a bigger part than being a mother. I still couldn’t get my head around that.
‘Did you have a drink to celebrate?’
‘We did. I was sipping a glass of brandy, looking out of our boardroom window at the view of St Paul’s Cathedral, soaking in the wonder of this new venture and the possibility that I could really make some serious money, if it goes well, when I remembered.’
‘Remembered what?’
‘That I’d promised to Skype Serge before he went to bed.’
My hand flew to my mouth. ‘Oh, no, Lucy.’ How could she forget?
‘I ran into my office and called home, but there was no answer, so I left messages. Then I got a text from Donal saying, “As you know Serge goes to bed seven thirty. He was very disappointed not to hear from you.” He actually put “very” in capitals, just to be sure I’d feel every ounce of it.’
‘Oh, God, Lucy.’
‘I felt really awful, but then Alan and Paul came in. When they saw my face, they knew something was up, so I explained. And they just laughed.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘Alan laughed and said Donal sounded like his wife. He said she’s permanently in a grump about something. And Paul told me that Donal is bloody lucky to have a wife who earns so much. He said he’d love it if his wife worked, rather than just shopping on Bond Street and spending his money.’
It was all very well for Paul and Alan to laugh, but they weren’t thinking about Serge. What about his disappointment? It wasn’t just about Donal being annoyed, and he had every right to be. This was also about a little boy excited to talk to his mum, who had forgotten to call, and a dad having to pick up the pieces of that let-down. I tried to play down the fact that I thought her colleagues sounded like selfish tossers. I didn’t want to make her feel worse, so I didn’t mention Serge’s disappointment either.
‘Men don’t have the guilt gene. When James goes away, he doesn’t feel the need to call home every day. I do. I couldn’t not talk to the kids.’
‘I don’t really have that gene,’ Lucy admitted. ‘Paul was saying that his kids grew up with him working long hours and that if your kids have never known any different, why would they be damaged by it or hurt? He says he only ever sees them on the weekend and has a great relationship with them. They understand that their dad works hard to provide a good life for them.’
‘Yes, but I’m sure his children would have liked to see more of him,’ I pointed out. I didn’t want to have a row about it, but I had to be honest.
‘Well, he was busy working and earning so they could go to the top schools and have the best opportunities possible. You can’t have it every way.’
‘But maybe if he worked less and they went to normal schools, they’d be happier. Kids love having their parents around.’
‘Do they? I hated my mother being around all the time, and I only saw my dad twice a year when he was home from Chicago.’
I thought about it. My parents had been home all the time. Dad had had a nine-to-five job and they were always at home for dinner and at weekends. I’d liked having them there. I’d felt very secure, growing up with two parents who were present. ‘But, Lucy, they’re only small for a short time. When they’re thirteen they won’t want to know us. It’s nice to see them grow up and do things for the first time. You don’t want to miss that.’
Lucy was quiet for a few moments. Then she said, ‘That stuff doesn’t really bother me. I missed Serge’s first step. But I saw him taking two steps the next day. He’s not going to remember that I wasn’t there for the first and I still got to see his almost-first step, so I don’t see it as a big deal. I’ve seen him learning to walk. Does it really matter that I didn’t see his first exact wobbly step? I think women who don’t work make a big hoo-ha out of these things to make working mothers feel guilty and themselves feel more important or needed.’
Was she serious? Women didn’t make a big deal about the first step: it just was a big deal, a huge milestone and a precious memory.
‘Hang on, Lucy. Stay-at-home mums don’t spend all day thinking up ways to make working mums feel guilty. A baby’s first step is a big deal. Just like the first tooth and the first word.’
‘So you can tell me what day Lara’s first tooth appeared, can you?’ Lucy challenged me.
I hesitated. I had no idea what date it was, but I do remember her smiling one day and seeing a little white flash in her gum. I’d been so excited. ‘No, I can’t. But I remember how I felt when I saw it.’
‘Would you have felt any differently if you’d seen it two days later?’
‘No, but you’re missing the point.’
‘What is the point?’ she asked, sounding exasperated.
I began to feel a bit angry. It was difficult to explain why these moments were so precious. They just were. Mothers knew that. It was instinctive to want to be there for the milestones. I tried to put it into words. ‘Lucy, it’s not about dates and times. It’s about emotion, it’s about connection, it’s about being present and cherishing memories. I missed Yuri’s first tooth, I missed his first smile, and I feel really sad about that because I’m sure no one in the orphanage paid the slightest bit of attention to either. So when he took his first step in our house, I was ecstatic to be there to see it. As he wobbled about, I cheered and clapped and whooped, and he beamed up at me. He won’t remember the day or the time, but he’ll remember the feeling he had when his mother was there to cheer him on. He’ll remember being loved and made to feel like the most important person in the world for those few minutes.’
Silence.
‘Lucy?’
‘For God’s sake, you’ve just gone and made me cry.’ I could hear her sniffing. ‘Maybe the reason I’m cold is because neither of my parents were present for any of my milestones. It was the nanny who must have clapped when I walked.’
‘You’re not cold,’ I assured her. ‘You’re just not a gushing mother and that’s OK. And you’re right. What difference does it make if you witness Serge’s accomplishments a day later? None. The important thing is to show up and cheer. So tomorrow set your alarm for seven p.m., pop out of whatever meeting you’re in and Skype him. It’s vital that you don’t forget.’
‘What would I do without you? You’re a rock of sense. Now, all we’ve done is talk about me. How are you?’
‘Fine, thanks. All good.’ I yawned. It was half past eleven and I was exhausted. I decided there was no point in opening the can of worms that was Babs at this time of night.
‘Come on, we both need sleep. You especially after getting up at four. I’ll talk to you soon. Good luck tomorrow and don’t forget to set your alarm for Skyping.’
‘I won’t. Thanks, Emma. Night, then. Sweet dreams.’ There was a click and she was gone.
Sweet dreams? Not likely, given the nightmarish scenario Babs had landed herself in. I took a deep breath and willed myself not to think about it. When I’d had some sleep, I’d be in a much better position to consider it sensibly.
11
I spent the whole tube journey to work trying to figure out what to do about Babs. James had asked me at breakfast what I was going to say to her and I was stumped. I had no idea. Was Babs capable of raising a child? She was so selfish and irresponsible, would a child be safe with her? Or maybe it would be the making of her. Perhaps a baby would bring out a nicer side, a softer side. Being forced to think about and look after someone else for a change might be the best thing for Babs. But then again, what about Gary? Would he even acknowledge the child? I was annoyed with her for being so stupid. It was bad enough to sleep with married men, but why the hell could she not have used protection?
As I was walking up the steps of Manor House station on my way to work, mulling over how I was going to handle my sister when I saw her, my phone rang. Thinking it was Babs, I grabbed it and answered on the first ring.
‘Hello, is that Emma?’
Damn. It was Mum. I mustn’t let on that anything was wrong.
‘Hello? Hello there? It’s your mother calling. Can you hear me?’
‘Yes, Mum, perfectly. I’m in London, not Kabul.’ I turned left and walked towards work.
‘I see you haven’t lost your sarcasm. I’m not sure that’ll go down too well over there. You might want to rein it in, Emma. You need to make friends, not alienate people.’
‘So far people haven’t run screaming in the opposite direction, so I think it’s all right.’
‘What has you in such a sunny mood?’
I counted to five. ‘I’m not in a mood, I’m fine. How are you?’ I walked past Starbucks and, even though I could have murdered a coffee, I didn’t go in. I needed to be on full alert for this conversation, no distractions.
‘All right, I suppose, a bit lonely without my grandchildren. How are my little pets? How’s that lovely husband of yours? I hope you’re minding him. It’s not easy starting a new job. It can be very stressful. He’ll need a good dinner on the table every night and a lot of encouragement. Apparently all that coaching is very bad for the blood pressure. Remember Alex Ferguson’s purple face.’
‘Alex Ferguson was a pensioner, Mum.’
‘He’d looked that way since he was forty. I’m warning you, make sure James has no stress when he comes home. Don’t be annoying him with your worries. He needs a nice smile and a warm welcome.’
‘I don’t annoy him with my worries. We share our concerns with each other. It’s called communicating.’
‘Some women communicate too much. Nuala was over this morning.’
Oh, God, not Nuala! Whenever my mother’s best friend/worst enemy, Nuala, called over, Mum always got completely wound up. What the hell had she said this time?
‘Nuala said her niece, Hayley Johnson – you were in the same ballet class as Hayley, you used to be pals. Remember?’
‘No, I don’t.’
Mum clicked her tongue. ‘Of course you do. The two of you were great pals. Her sister married that fella, what’s his name …?’
I crossed the road, almost getting run over by a cyclist who shouted at me.
‘You know – that fella who worked in the bank. He had some big job and then they transferred him off to Argentina or Colombia or one of those places. Oh, actually, maybe it was Russia. Anyway, I think his name was Brian or Brendan.’
‘What has any of this got to do with me?’ I was getting exasperated.
‘Nuala said that Hayley’s marriage is gone, over, kaput. And he left her because she was always moaning.’
‘Well, it sounds like a lucky escape for her. He’s obviously a bit of an idiot.’
‘That’s not the point, Emma.’
‘No? What is the point, then?’ I hoped there wasn’t much more to this tale of woe.
‘The point is, Hayley was a moaner, just like you are, and it cost her her marriage.’
There really was nothing like a pep talk with my mother to put a spring in my step. I gritted my teeth. ‘I do not moan.’
‘Emma, you have a great capacity for complaining. You’re a glass-half-empty kind of person. I saw a programme the other day about positive thinking. They had this woman on – she was an American psychologist or psychiatrist or psychoanalyst. I can never make out which is which. Anyway, she said that when you wake up in the morning, it’s up to you to decide if today is going to be a glass-half-empty day or a glass-half-full day. So I’m telling you, Emma, you need to concentrate on being a glass-half-full girl. No man likes a sulky face. You’re at a dangerous stage – men tend to go a bit funny in their forties. I saw it with your father. At forty he suddenly realized half his life was over and he went out and bought a sports car and a leather jacket. He looked ridiculous. He could barely get in or out of the car because of his bad knees and the jacket was too small for him.’
I remembered the sports car. I must have been about nine at the time and I thought it was very cool. ‘Well, so far we’re OK. James gets the train to work. I don’t see any sign of his mid-life crisis yet.’
‘Don’t be flippant, Emma. It happens to the best of us. Now, the other thing the woman on the TV said was that the better you feel about yourself, the nicer you’ll be to others. There was something else about the universe and your conscious mind but that part was a bit complicated. I think it’s time you went on a diet and got rid of that baby weight you’re still carrying. If you don’t shift it now, you’ll never get rid of it. Once the menopause hits you, your metabolism shuts down. I’ve barely lost a pound in twenty years and I’ve drunk all those awful milkshakes and cabbage soups and none of them works. Lose the weight now, Emma, before it’s too late.’
Right, that was it. I needed a comforting latte. I stopped at the little coffee cart opposite the studio and mouthed, ‘Full-fat latte,’ to the man. As my mother continued to talk, I poured two sachets of sugar into it and took a long, soothing gulp.
‘Emma?’ Mum barked. ‘Are you listening to me?’
‘Yes! I’m going to lose the weight. It’ll be easier now I’m working. When I’m at home, I’m constantly grazing.’
‘Good. Now, tell me, did you find a good nanny? Are you happy with her?’
‘Yes. A really sweet girl called Claire – she’s originally from Leitrim.’
‘I don’t believe it! That’s wonderful. A nice Irish country girl. It’ll be good for the children. You don’t want some foreign girl with no English. It would hamper their development, and poor Yuri’s already had ten months of Russian. He needs consistency now. A nice Irish girl sounds perfect. Well, kiss their little faces for me.’
My mother’s love for her grandchildren was a very
redeeming feature. She adored them. ‘OK, Mum, I will. I’d better go now – I’ve just arrived at work.’
‘Hold on a minute. How is your bold sister? She never returns my calls. She just texts me, “I’m busy.” I’m delighted you’re working with her. You can keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not getting up to mischief. I worry about that girl. She’s going to end up in trouble, I can feel it.’
If only she knew!
I pushed the door open and came face to face with Babs. I held my hand up and whispered, ‘Mum.’ Babs waved her arms, meaning she didn’t want to speak to her.
‘I’ll tell Babs to call you, Mum.’ I glared at my sister. ‘I’ll be seeing lots of her now we’re working together so I’ll make sure she stays in touch.’
Babs glared back at me.
‘Make sure you do, and keep an eye on her. If only she could meet a nice man like James. Is there any nice fellow in work?’
Staring directly at my sister, I said, ‘I can assure you, Mum, that there are no suitable men in work for Babs. Now I really have to go. ’Bye.’
Before she could say anything else, I hung up and put my phone into my pocket. ‘Well, are you all right?’ I asked Babs.
‘I’m fine.’
‘What the hell –’
Babs grabbed my arm. ‘Not here,’ she hissed, pulling me through the studio doors and into the makeup room.
I locked the door and turned to her. ‘Have you told him?’
She avoided my eyes. ‘Not yet. I only found out a week ago.’
‘How pregnant are you?’
Babs shrugged. ‘I dunno – not very. A few weeks?’
‘How did it happen? Didn’t you use protection?’
She turned away. ‘We usually use condoms, but one night we were really drunk and he didn’t have any and I thought it would be fine. I mean, it took you years to get pregnant, so I didn’t think it would happen to me after one unprotected shag.’
Mad About You Page 12