The Good Mother

by Sinéad Moriarty

  ‘What?’

  ‘An okapi.’

  ‘Uhm, no –’

  His phone rang. Jess saw Jenny’s name come up on the screen. He ignored it.

  ‘Guess,’ Bobby said.

  The phone rang again.

  ‘I dunno, what?’ Nick put the phone on silent.

  ‘What do you think it is?’ Bobby persisted.

  ‘I … uhm …’ The phone flashed. Nick cursed under his breath.

  Jess touched her father’s sleeve. ‘Maybe you should answer it, Dad. Maybe Jaden’s sick.’

  Nick rubbed his eyes. ‘There’s always some drama with Jenny.’

  The phone flashed again. He sighed and answered it.

  ‘WHAT IS AN OKAPI?’ Bobby shouted.

  ‘Jesus, I don’t bloody know,’ Nick snapped. Pressing his phone to his ear, he hissed, ‘What is it? I’m with my kids.’

  ‘I TOLD YOU TO GUESS,’ Bobby roared.

  ‘Your kids!’ Jess heard Jenny screech down the phone. ‘What about Jaden? He’s your kid too and he’s got a temperature.’

  ‘Daddy, you have to guess.’ Bobby was not letting it go.

  ‘I’m here all by myself, Nick, and I’m freaking out because I think he needs to go to hospital.’

  Jess could hear Jenny crying. She actually felt a bit sorry for her.

  ‘He’s fine, Jenny. You always overreact,’ Nick said gruffly.

  ‘GUESS!’ Bobby bellowed.

  Nick glared at him. ‘Jesus Christ, Bobby, will you shut up?’

  ‘Don’t speak to him like that!’ Luke yelled.

  ‘Come home now or I’m calling an ambulance,’ Jenny sobbed down the phone.

  ‘Jenny, will you calm down?’

  ‘I’m frightened, Nick. Come home.’

  His shoulders slumped.

  ‘Maybe you should just go. She sounds really upset,’ Jess said.

  ‘I’m on my way.’ Nick shut the phone.

  They all looked down at their food. Jess could see Bobby’s hands clenched into little fists. His face was red, and she could see he was trying hard not to cry.

  Luke was twisting his napkin around his hands tightly. He wanted to punch the wall, she thought … or probably Dad.

  Nick asked for the bill. ‘I’m really sorry, guys, but I have to go. I had hoped I’d get a couple of hours with you without Jenny calling every five seconds, but apparently I was wrong.’

  ‘What if Jaden’s really sick?’ Jess worried.

  Nick ran his hand over his face. ‘I don’t think he is. Jenny overreacts every time he gets a bit hot.’

  ‘I hope he is sick. I hope he’s really sick and he dies,’ Bobby blurted out.

  ‘What the hell?’ Nick glared at Bobby.

  ‘He’s upset! Give him a break,’ Luke said tersely.

  ‘Look, guys, I really wanted tonight to be good. I wanted to spend some time with you on my own, uninterrupted. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just … not easy at the moment. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ Nick paid the bill.

  Jess and Luke held Bobby’s hot hands in theirs. As they walked out, Jess’s leg began to throb.

  Bobby’s Diary

  I HATE Daddy. He shouted at me and I was just trying to tell him about okapis. He didn’t even care. All he cares about is stupid Jaden. Jess said it was a teribel thing to say that I hope Jaden dies but I don’t care. Jess said God was waching and lisening and that made me a bit scared. She said you should be nice to every one and not ever say you want some one to die. But I do.

  Mummy said she was sorry the dinner with Daddy was rooined and she gave us all yummy brownees to eat and I felt better then. Granddad came in and when he hearded about the dinner his face went all red and he said ‘Tipical.’ But Mummy did squinty eyes at him so he stopped talking and put on a pretend smile and said he was sure Daddy was very sorry to have to go home in the midel of dinner. Then he hugged me and Jess and gave Luke a pat on the sholder.

  I like living here with Granddad. He is super-nice and always gives us hugs and treets and never shouts. He is super-nice to Mummy and she is waaaaaaaaaaaaay happier now. She has a real happy face and not a pretend happy face like she used to with Daddy.

  Even if I have to share a bedroom with Jess, I don’t mind. Jess is a nice sister and she lets me talk about facts and actualy lisens and remembers stuff.

  There is something wrong with her leg. Mummy is taking her to the doctor tomorrow. She is limping like a dog with glass in his paw.

  Mrs Lorgan was cross with me today. She said I need to control my temper and that calling Sammy a ‘dickhead’ for knoking over the green paint onto my copybook is unaxeptabel. I told her that Luke said that word about Dad all the time. She asked how old Luke is and I said eighteen and she said that he was old enuff to know better. She said it was a very bad word and not ever to use it.

  Then she asked about Jaden and was I growing to love my baby brother. I said no, that I wanted him to die, and her face went all red and her eyes were all big and she said that wasn’t a nice thing to say and that I’d grow to love him.

  I decided not to speak. She doesn’t understand, no one does. Jenny took my daddy out of the house but Jaden took my daddy out of our hearts. That’s why I hate him.

  8

  George stood behind Kate as they watched the women stream through the café door and up the stairs. Each one had a big bag of colourful balls of wool and long needles.

  ‘Are they really called the Stitch ’n’ Bitch Club?’ he muttered.

  ‘Yes, Dad.’

  ‘What do they do – knit and give out?’ He clicked his tongue. ‘I never liked all those groups of women getting together and giving out and gossiping. Sure, half of them don’t even like each other. The minute you put your knitting down to go to the toilet they’ll be sticking a needle in your back.’

  ‘I’m sure they support each other too, Dad,’ Kate said, smiling.

  ‘Nonsense. Your good friends support you, not a big group like that. Sure, Dorothy Chambers hates Nuala King. All she ever does is complain about her.’

  ‘Dorothy wouldn’t know what to do if she wasn’t criticizing someone.’ Kate chuckled.

  ‘I’m not sure I like it, a bunch of women up there giving out,’ George grumbled, eyeing the ceiling suspiciously.

  ‘They’re paying for the privilege,’ Kate reminded him.

  ‘You’re right.’ He grinned. ‘They can knit and bitch and scratch each other’s eyes out as long as they pay.’

  Kate welcomed the women with a warm smile and directed them to the stairs that led to the room above the café.

  ‘Hello there, Kate,’ Dorothy said. ‘You look well, dear. Much better than when I last saw you. You were very pale and old-looking back in the spring. I said to my Gerry, that poor girl has aged twenty years because of that awful husband of hers.’

  Kate gritted her teeth and plastered on a smile. ‘Well, enjoy your night. Straight on up the stairs there.’

  But Dorothy was going nowhere. She heaved her balls of wool over her vast chest. ‘Of course, your father always said that that Nick of yours was a bad egg. Rotten to the core.’

  Kate could hear her father spluttering in the kitchen behind her, out of sight but perfectly well able to hear. ‘Well, Nick is my children’s father so I prefer not to speak ill of him,’ she said evenly.

  ‘A skirt-chaser. That was what George always said about your Nick. Full of his own importance, he said, and all flash with no cash.’

  Kate could feel her temperature rising. ‘Well, as I said, he is the father of my children, so I prefer not to speak ill of him.’

  ‘Of course, Janice upstairs married one of those. Oh, sure he rode half the town, that fella. A philanderer, as my mother would have said. Poor Janice hadn’t a clue. She was being made a holy show of, so I took it upon myself to tell her.’

  ‘Did you? How …’ Kate paused ‘… considerate of you.’

  Dorothy placed a wrinkled hand on Kate’s arm. ‘I
always think of others.’

  Yes, I imagine you do, Kate thought, all day bloody long, peeking out from behind your twitching curtain, you nasty woman. Smiling, she said, ‘Well, I mustn’t keep you from your knitting.’

  Dorothy dragged her large frame up the stairs while Kate turned to go back into the kitchen.

  George moved quickly from behind the door and pretended to read the paper.

  ‘I’ve just had a very interesting chat with Dorothy.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ He feigned disinterest.

  ‘She told me you’ve been slating Nick to everyone.’

  ‘I wouldn’t believe a word out of that woman’s mouth. She’s pure poison, your mother always said.’

  Kate stood in front of her father, hands on hips. ‘Seriously, Dad, don’t criticize Nick in public, for the kids’ sake. You can rip him apart in front of me, but not other people. Okay?’

  George rustled his newspaper. ‘Sure I barely mentioned him. Dorothy exaggerates everything. I’d never do anything to upset those kids.’

  Kate ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. ‘I know you wouldn’t.’

  When Kate went to check on Jess and Bobby, she found Bobby fast asleep with his face stuck to the pages of Guinness World Records. Jess was still awake, reading.

  Kate gently moved Bobby’s face from the page to his pillow. Even in his sleep he frowned. She hoped he’d become less angry now that they’d moved in with George and things were calmer. But the poor little fellow still seemed full of rage, especially towards Jaden, who was an innocent victim in all this. Kate needed to spend more time with Bobby. She’d have to find it somehow.

  ‘Mum,’ Jess whispered.

  ‘Yes, pet?’

  ‘Am I going to be sharing a room with Bobby for ever?’

  ‘For a while anyway.’

  Jess sighed. ‘Okay. It’s just he’s kind of annoying. I was trying to read my book and he kept going on and on about his facts.’

  Kate moved over to sit on the edge of Jess’s bed and hugged her.

  ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘You’re just great, and I don’t tell you enough. You’re so good with Bobby. I know it’s not easy sharing a room with him. I’ll tell you what, I’ll let him sleep with me three nights a week. How does that sound?’

  ‘Amazing!’ Jess beamed.

  ‘Was the dinner with Dad awful?’ Kate asked. The kids hadn’t said much about it in the two days since it had happened.

  Jess nodded. ‘Pretty awful. Jenny was stalking Dad on the phone and freaking out about Jaden, and Dad was getting really stressed, and Bobby kept on about the okapis, and Dad ended up shouting at him.’

  ‘God, it sounds like a mess. I’m sorry for all of you. It would have been nice for you to spend time with your dad without any drama.’

  Jess snuggled down under her covers. ‘To be honest, Mum, I think there’s always going to be drama with Jenny and Dad. She worries a lot about Jaden. Dad seemed kind of fed up.’

  Did he indeed? Kate tried not to smile. So hot, sexy Jenny wasn’t so great, after all. She actually had weak spots. Fancy that!

  Jess fiddled with her hair. ‘Do you think Dad will ever be able to be a proper dad again?’

  Suddenly Kate felt bad for being happy that Jenny was turning into a nightmare. This wasn’t about her: it was about her kids.

  She pulled Jess’s hands gently out of her hair. ‘Yes. New babies always take up a lot of time and energy, and it’s Jenny’s first child, so naturally she’s nervous. She’ll calm down soon and Dad will have more time for you guys. This is only temporary. Don’t worry. You know he loves you.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’ Jess rolled over, yawning. ‘I just hope it’s soon. I miss him.’

  Kate leant over and kissed her cheek. ‘Sleep well. We have that doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I don’t like the look of those bruises. I’m worried you might be a bit anaemic. You’ll be going to school late.’

  Jess smiled. ‘Yes! I’m missing double maths.’

  Kate switched off the bedside lamp and tiptoed out of the room. When she went back down to the kitchen, Luke was tucking into a large steak.

  ‘What are you doing? We had steak for dinner,’ Kate said.

  Chewing, he said, ‘We were told to eat as much protein as possible.’

  ‘You’re going to bankrupt me.’

  ‘I need it, Mum. I have to be in peak condition.’

  ‘What’s this?’ She picked up a half-empty carton.

  ‘Protein milk,’ Luke said, chugging down half a glass in one go.

  Kate gazed at her son. He was a man now. Tall, strong, very muscular, with a shadow of facial hair. Where had the chubby blond toddler in red shorts gone? It felt as if she’d blinked and he’d grown up. She wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair and kiss his lovely face, but she knew not to.

  She sat down opposite him. ‘I want you to do your best at rugby but don’t overdo it, Luke. Too much protein isn’t healthy. You need a balanced diet, love.’

  Luke polished off the steak. ‘Chill, Mum. It’s all under control. I know what I need to do.’

  ‘I worry about you getting injured. Did you see the Leinster winger got a terrible concussion in the last match?’

  Luke snorted. ‘He can’t tackle. He goes in with his head.’

  ‘Well, you just mind yours.’

  Luke rolled his eyes.

  ‘Did you tell Dad about the match on Saturday?’ she asked.

  Luke shook his head.

  ‘Ah, Luke, call him and tell him. He’ll want to come.’

  Luke stared into her eyes, something he very rarely did these days. ‘Mum, Dad couldn’t give a flying fuck about rugby or about me. I texted him when I made the team and he didn’t reply. Then at the restaurant it was like he’d never fucking heard about it before.’

  ‘Language!’

  ‘I’m serious. He’s a tosser, and I’m not putting myself out there any more. If he wants to know what’s going on, he can bloody well ask. I’m over it.’ Luke stood up and slammed his plate into the dishwasher.

  He was so clearly not ‘over it’. Every muscle in his body was tense with rage and frustration. Kate would have to call Nick and make sure he went to the game.

  George came in, looking flustered. ‘For the love of God, Kate, save me.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Rosemary Jacobs just pretended she couldn’t find the toilet. She came into the wine shop, grabbed my backside and squeezed it!’

  ‘Way to go, Granddad.’ Luke grinned.

  Kate laughed. ‘What’s the problem, Dad?’

  ‘The problem is, I don’t want to be assaulted by the Stitch and Bitchers. They must have brought their own wine with them – she smelt of alcohol.’

  ‘There’s no law against having wine while you knit.’

  George crossed his arms. ‘If I was a woman, you’d all be up in arms if someone pinched me. Because I’m a man I’m supposed not to care.’

  ‘You should be flattered, Granddad. If some bird pinched my arse, I’d be cool with it,’ Luke said, and drank the last of the protein milk.

  ‘I’m seventy-three, too old for all that.’

  ‘Charlie Chaplin became a father again at seventy-three. It’s never too late,’ Kate said.

  ‘No way!’ Luke held up his hands. ‘No more babies. Jaden is enough.’

  ‘I don’t think Rosemary is in any fit state to be having children. She’s seventy years old and has had two hip replacements.’

  ‘You could be one of Bobby’s facts in Guinness World Records – the oldest couple ever to have a child.’ Kate giggled.

  ‘You could just shag her,’ Luke said. ‘Treat her mean, keep her keen, you know.’

  ‘Luke!’ Kate cried.

  ‘What? I’m just saying, if he wanted a bit of action …’

  George tapped the kitchen table for attention. ‘Thank you for your advice, but I think I’ll steer clear of Rosemary. If I want “a
bit of action”, I’ll choose my own partner.’

  ‘That Caroline who comes into the café isn’t bad. She’s in good shape for an auld one,’ Luke suggested.

  ‘She is attractive, all right.’

  ‘Not too wrinkly,’ Luke said.

  ‘She’s fifty-three!’ Kate exclaimed. ‘She’s only eleven years older than me.’

  ‘So?’ The two men turned to her.

  Kate was incredulous. ‘So? So she’s too young for you and, no offence, Dad, you look good for your age but I doubt she wants a man twenty years older than her.’

  ‘Loads of old dudes go out with younger chicks,’ Luke informed her. ‘Jenny’s twenty years younger than Dad.’

  ‘Thanks for reminding me,’ Kate retorted. ‘It’s a man’s world. Right, well, I’d better see the Stitch ’n’ Bitch Club out. Maybe one of them will have a brother in his sixties or seventies who might be interested in a single forty-two-year-old woman with three kids.’

  She left her father and son laughing. It might be funny for them, but was this really her future? Would only men in their sixties be interested in her from now on? It was depressing.

  After showing the knitting ladies out and collecting the money – a hundred and fifty euros – Kate locked the doors and went to sit in the café, where it was quiet. She made herself a cup of frothy cappuccino and called Maggie.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Are the only men who’ll be interested in me going to be in their sixties?’

  ‘Hell, no,’ Maggie growled. ‘What gave you that idea? I was with a thirty-year-old last week. Younger guys love older women. We’re not needy, we don’t want to have kids with them and we’re not after commitment.’

  Kate took a sip of her coffee. The problem was, if she was to meet another man she would want commitment. She didn’t want to sleep with random strangers. She wanted a man to love her and be nice to her. Maybe it was naive, but she liked being in a relationship. She liked sitting in the cinema with someone sharing popcorn or curling up on the sofa together and talking about your day.

  Maggie had always hated the idea of commitment. Even when they were at school, she had never dated anyone for more than two weeks. She was on a mission to get the hell out of Ireland and make it big in the world, and no one was going to stop her, least of all a boy. It was as if boys could smell her indifference and it drove them wild. Kate could remember the queues of boys who had chased Maggie all over town. But the girl was not for turning. As soon as she’d finished her business degree, Maggie had been on the first plane to London, where she’d made success happen.