‘Not great.’
‘You’ve had a bad run. I’m sorry about the IVF.’
‘Thanks, me too.’
‘Well, Emma, getting drunk and falling over are not the solution.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
‘Your Uncle Eddie’s a drinker, so it’s in the family. You need to be careful of that. These things can be hereditary, you know.’
‘I’m not an alcoholic’
‘It creeps up on you and before you know it you’re hooked. It’s a slippery slope, Emma. It’s especially easy to get addicted when you’re down in the dumps. That’s the worst time of all to be drinking. You’re far better off out in the fresh air going for a nice walk.’
‘I’m not an alcoholic’
‘Mark my words, young women your age are very susceptible to alcoholism. It’s a dangerous age you’re at. The best thing to do is keep away from it altogether.’
‘I’m not an alcoholic. I had a few drinks last night that went straight to my head because I’m an emotional wreck. I’m sitting here with a throbbing head, feeling really bad about everything, and I don’t need you to rub it in.’
‘Snapping at people and aggressive behaviour in general are some of the first symptoms of a drinker.’
‘Mum!’
‘I’m not saying you are one, I’m just saying be careful. Anyway, how’s James after last night?’
‘He’s fine. He’s not the one who split his head open. In case you hadn’t noticed that was me, your daughter, the person sitting opposite you right now.’
‘There’s no need to be smart. The poor boy is worried sick about you. He’s finding it hard too, Emma. Remember that.’
‘I know. I’m sorry for shouting at you. I just need some time to figure out what I’m going to do next, and having you telling me I’m on the cusp of being a wino isn’t helping.’
‘I’m just worried about you. I think you need to stop taking all these hormones and get back to a normal life. Let nature take its course.’
Over the next few days, I kept a low profile and thought long and hard about the future. What were we going to do? What was I going to do? I wanted to enjoy life again, not spend every hour of every day wondering where I was in my cycle, or silently praying that this time I’d be pregnant, and constantly feeling let-down and depressed when I wasn’t. It was time for change. I had to move on to the next stage in my life.
The more I thought about adoption, the more it seemed like the perfect solution. I wouldn’t have to take any more drugs, go for any more tests or endure any more horrible procedures. We’d just put our names down on a list, fill out a few forms and in a couple of months have a baby. I wouldn’t have to go through pregnancy or labour. It was perfect. Why on earth hadn’t I thought of this earlier? Not only would we have a baby, but I wouldn’t have to spend nine months going to the loo every five minutes, swelling up like a balloon, and then spend thirty-six hours huffing and puffing in a labour ward. My vagina would remain a normal size and I wouldn’t have to hang out with other mothers from my antenatal classes and lie about having sex with my husband. And, speaking of sex, James and I would be able to get back to having a normal sex life! Oh, my God, this was perfect. And on top of that we could adopt a baby from a war-torn country and save its life. The more I thought about it the better it got. Adoption was the solution to everything. Fantastic.
When James arrived home that night, I met him at the door with a bottle of champagne. ‘Welcome home, darling. I’ve got great news. We’re going to adopt a poor baby from an orphanage in China or Brazil and give it a wonderful life. It’s all going to be OK. Everything’s going to be perfect. We’re going to be great parents.’
James sat down. He spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘It’s certainly an option, but not as straightforward as you may think. There are lots of things to consider with adoption.’
‘Like what?’ I asked, fully confident that I would be able to allay his every concern.
‘What if the baby has Aids or some hereditary disease we know nothing about? These orphanages don’t give you a proper medical history. We could be biting off more than we can chew. You don’t know anything about their families. The mother could have been a heroin addict and the baby might be too. It could be autistic … There are so many things that can go wrong. It’s a very big leap of faith.’
‘Of course it is, but so is having a baby of your own. I’m sure Charles Manson’s parents didn’t think he’d turn into a savage killer but he did. If we have a baby of our own it could get Aids from a blood transfusion or become a drug addict when it’s a teenager. You can never know what’s going to happen. Adopting a child is a risk – a really scary risk – but if we love the child and give it a happy home, well, then, chances are it’ll turn out all right. Your environment is what forms the person you turn into, not genetics.’
‘Not necessarily. You can inherit some pretty bad genes.’
‘Well, look at your mad Uncle Harry, all his kids all turned out to be totally normal – humiliated by their father, but normal.’ I had an answer for everything. James’s Uncle Harry, his father’s elder brother, was a certifiable loon, who walked around his local village flashing at people. Mr Hamilton had constantly to bail him out of the local police station. But Harry had three sons who were all totally normal and well balanced.
‘True,’ said James, softening.
‘Look, James, I know it’s scary, but we’ll just have to deal with problems as they arise. And we could go back to having a normal sex life. No more handstands. No more coming down to your office and sexually assaulting you in front of your boss. No more green tea. And you can masturbate as often and for as long as you like. Come on, James, it’ll be great. I’ll be me again.’
He looked down at his hands. ‘It’s not a decision to be taken lightly. We need to look into it properly before making up our minds. It’s a big commitment. Let’s just sleep on it.’
‘Fine, sleep on it all you like, but my mind is made up. This is the right thing for us. I have never been so sure of anything before in my life,’ I said, smiling at him as I put the champagne back into the fridge for a later date. Nothing was going to ruin my buzz. I hadn’t felt this alive in months. I knew James would come round. I just needed to do some research and dazzle him with facts and figures. I’d do a power-point presentation if I had to. I went upstairs to log on to the Internet and gather my evidence.
While I was bouncing from adoption website to adoption website, I heard James on the phone.
‘Hi, are you free for a pint? I need to pick your brain … Yes, there’s a first time for everything … Say half an hour in Hogan’s?… See you, then.’
James came up and told me he was going to meet Donal for a drink. While he was in the shower, I called Lucy. ‘Hi, it’s me,’ I whispered.
‘Why are you whispering? Are you OK?’
‘Fine, thanks. Look, James is meeting Donal for a pint to talk to him about adoption.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I want to adopt and James is a bit reticent so I think he’s going to ask Donal about Annie and what it’s like bringing up a child that isn’t yours, blah-blah-blah. So you have to make sure he says all the right things. It’s the perfect solution for us, Lucy. If we adopt we can get back to having a normal life again. But I want James to be as enthusiastic as I am.’
‘OK, what do you want Donal to say? I’ll have him word-perfect for you.’
‘He has to say that it’s great, and that although bringing up someone else’s child is difficult, so is bringing up your own child. That things can go just as wrong for biological children as they can for adopted children. That after a while you forget the child is adopted and think of it as your own. That it’s a great idea because it means I won’t have to have any more horrible operations and tests and will be back to myself again. That James would be an amazing father and the adopted child would be blessed to come into our home. That it’s a no-brainer and he has to
go for it.’
‘No problem, I’ve jotted them all down.’
‘Gotta go, James is coming. Thanks, Lucy.’
‘Don’t worry about a thing.’
Two hours later James came in from the pub and pulled the bottle of champagne out of the fridge. Swaying slightly, he said, ‘Darling, I’ve just been talking to Donal about adoption. He said it’s great, that although bringing up someone else’s child is tough, so is bringing up your own child. He said things can go wrong for biological children as well as adopted children. That after a while you forget the child is adopted and think of it as your own. That it’s a great idea because it means you won’t have to go through any more nasty operations and tests and will be back to your jolly old self again. That I will be a great father and the adopted child would be lucky to come into our home … and what was the other thing Donal said Lucy wrote down for him to say?’ He fished a crumpled piece of paper out of his coat pocket. ‘Oh, yes, that it’s basically a no-brainer and we should go for it,’ he said, winking at me.
‘Well, was he persuasive at least?’ I asked sheepishly.
‘Yes, very.’
‘You see?’ I said, beaming at him. ‘I told you it was the right thing to do. I knew you just needed a little extra persuasion. And wait till I tell you about the fantastic website I found called ‘Famous and Remarkable Adoptees’, which lists all the amazing people who’ve been adopted. Ella Fitzgerald and Richard Burton and Marilyn Monroe – and, oh, yeah, Moses. He was adopted by the Princess of Egypt and look how well he turned out. And other people like, uhm …’
James came over and kissed me. He was smiling. ‘Well, if it was good enough for the Princess of Egypt, it’s good enough for me.’
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Acknowledgements
Warmest thanks to my editor Patricia Deevy, Michael McLoughlin, Grainne Killeen and everyone at Penguin Ireland. Thanks must also go to Tom Weldon, James Kellow, Hazel Orme and all at Penguin UK, for their support and encouragement.
A big thank-you to my agent Gillon Aitken, Sally Riley, Lesley Shaw, Ayesha Karim and all at Gillon Aitken Associates.
Thanks to Lis Leigh and the Tuesday-night writing group in the City of Westminster College.
Thanks Paul White, for his great advice.
Thank you, Mum and Dad, for always being there.
Thanks, Sue and Mike, for being my cheerleaders.
Thanks to my friends, for their enthusiasm.
Most of all, thanks to Troy, for absolutely everything.
THE BEGINNING
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PENGUIN BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
www.penguin.com
First published 2004
Copyright © Sinéad Moriarty, 2004
The moral right of the author has been asserted
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-0-141-91148-9
THE BABY TRAIL
‘Will make you laugh out loud one minute and wipe away a rogue tear the next’ Heat
Early thirtysomething Emma decides it’s time to have the baby – but it just doesn’t happen to order. Emma goes through a funny, touching and ultimately moving journey as she struggles to accept the reality that maybe it’s never going to happen. The Baby Trail is a novel rich in texture, light and dark, and humour with a biting undercurrent.
‘Moriarty’s Emma has the wit of Sex and the City’s Carrie Bradshaw, mixed with the Murphy’s Law luck of Bridget Jones’ Irish Independent
‘Very funny, with a cast of wonderful supporting characters and an unpredictable ending. Marian Keyes, you have some competition’ RTÉ Guide
‘The pace is fast and furious … a real page-turner’ Irish Tatler
‘Honest and funny’ U Magazine
‘Lots of tears and even more laughs … a confident debut’ Irish Times
‘Funny – side-splittingly so, which is a difficult balance to strike considering the weight of the subject matter’ Ireland on Sunday
‘Mix Bridget Jones with Charlotte from Sex and the City and you’ve got Emma, the charming heroine of The Baby Trail, and a funny, feisty guide through the realities and hilarities of twenty-first century baby-making. A terrific read …’ Jennifer Weiner
A PERFECT MATCH
‘A touching tale with just the right amount of humour’ OK! Magazine
After two years of being deafened by the tick-tock of her biological clock and tormented by Mother Nature’s refusal to grant her a baby, Emma Hamilton decides to go for the instant solution: finding a Russian baby in need of a home.
But Emma hasn’t reckoned on the route to adoption being so complicated. Between proving that she's fit to be a mother (by inventing an unblemished past and discovering an unsuspected talent for housekeeping), driving her long-suffering husband insane with madcap schemes to make them the perfect would-be parents (a few Russian verbs a night and they’ll be fluent in no time), and tripping over red tape every step of the way (who knew social workers could be so terrifying?), Emma finds out that adoption is far from the easy option – and that perfection has very little to do with finding the perfect match.
‘A thoroughly likeable, warm heroine’ Irish Times
‘Both an enjoyable easy read, while also managing to chime with subtle emotional resonance around an original and thought-provoking subject’ Sunday Independent
‘Hilarious’ Daily Express
‘Moriarty’s realistic dialogue and plot, her engaging multifaceted characters, and her humour and sensitivity in the face of complex issues quickly drew me in’ Ireland on Sunday
‘Moriarty has a gift for seeing the lighter side of things’ Irish Independent
‘A funny and poignant read’ Evening Herald
‘Moriarty writes with a brash and spontaneous eloquence’ Daily Telegraph
IN MY SISTER’S SHOES
‘The best book of its kind that this reviewer has come across in ages … [Marian] Keyes has for years been the undisputed queen of applying the light, tender touch to dark, painful subjects – well, Sinéad Moriarty is now a worthy competitor for that crown … In My Sister’s Shoes bounces with love, life and fun’ Sunday Independent
Kate O’Brien is thirty and has very little to think about except trying to keep her balance as she totters up London’s media-land ladder.
Fiona O’Brien is Kate’s responsible older sister – with a husband, twin boys, a dog and now … a life-changing
problem.
It’s a problem that means Kate going back to Dublin. Pronto. There she finds herself stepping into Fiona’s shoes – and discovering that she’s definitely not cut out to be a domestic goddess. On top of that, the ex she thought she’d got over years ago turns up to haunt her.
Will either of the O’Brien sisters survive? And even if they do, can either of them slip back into their old shoes ever again?
‘A real talent … Sinéad Moriarty has a gift at unwrapping a good, plausible tale and creating likeable characters that you care about’ Irish Independent
‘A fabulous book … at times touching and at others genuinely hilarious’ Sunday Tribune
‘Touching … warm-hearted’ Irish Mail on Sunday
‘A tear-jerker which will have you in stitches’ Full House
‘This warm, touching book is truly bittersweet – you will laugh and cry’ My Weekly
‘A funny, easy-going, heart-warming read’ Woman Magazine
‘A lovely, thought-provoking tale’ Sun
‘Touching and funny’ Closer
KEEPING IT IN THE FAMILY
(also titled WHOSE LIFE IS IT ANYWAY?)
‘Makes you really care … plenty of laughs and more than a bit of substance’ Irish Mail on Sunday
It’s tricky for Niamh O’Flaherty, growing up in a North London home that’s a shrine to all things Irish. But it’s even trickier being an adult and realizing that her family expects her to settle down with a nice Irish lad, especially now that she’s living in Dublin.
When Niamh finally meets the love of her life, he is the last person she would expect to fall for her. Pierre is older and an intellectual, but she loves his ability to laugh at himself, his calmness and strength of character and, of course, his stunning looks.
There’s just one problem: if Pierre’s parents – Jean and Fleur – are sniffy about their pride and joy hooking up with a girl who writes a fluffy newspaper column, her parents, Mick and Annie, are going to go ballistic when they hear that their daughter intends to marry someone who couldn’t be less Irish if he tried . . .
The Baby Trail Page 25