by Melissa Hill
Laura gave Nicola a look of mild shock. Helen was often strict with Kerry, but this was going overboard. And the child hadn’t done anything to deserve the rollicking she was getting.
“Helen, please calm down,” Nicola urged. “She’s only a child.”
But Helen couldn’t be persuaded. “I’m sorry,” she said to Laura. “I’ll ring you sometime during the week to see how you’re getting on. Maybe then we can talk in peace.” She roughly fixed a by-then tearful Kerry into her buggy, and lobbing her bag over her shoulder, walked resolutely out of the café, leaving Nicola and Laura looking at one another in shock.
“I don’t know what’s got into her lately,” said Nicola at last, “but whatever it is, she shouldn’t take it out on Kerry.”
Laura nodded. “I wouldn’t mind, but compared to some children, Kerry isn’t at all bold. In fact, for her age, she’s very well behaved. My sister’s two lads – now they’re another story altogether, constantly hanging out of her, moaning for this and that. And most of the time you can’t hear yourself for their chattering and questions. Kerry isn’t a bit like that.”
Nicola looked thoughtful. “Cathy’s two are about – what? Three, three and a half?”
“Three last February, why?”
“Well, when did you ever hear Kerry chattering about anything?”
“But that’s because the poor thing can’t get the words out properly.”
“And why do you suppose that is?”
Laura shrugged. “It’s just one of those things.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Look, I love Helen to bits and I’m not suggesting that she’s a bad mother or anything but . . .”
“She doesn’t exactly encourage Kerry by the way she talks to her,” Laura finished. “I know. I’ve often thought that too.”
“But she doesn’t talk to her. She talks at her. It’s all ‘Kerry don’t do this, don’t do that’. She seems to be constantly chastising the child. I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard her talk with Kerry.”
“Yes, but you don’t know what she’s like at home. I’m sure they have lots of time together.” Although she partly agreed with Nicola, Laura didn’t want to criticise Helen too severely.
Nicola made a face. “From what I can gather, Kerry’s in bed an hour after Helen gets home from work. Helen makes dinner, and then it’s off to bed for Kerry while Helen does some more work on the PC. Now, I could be wrong, but, from what I can make out, they don’t exactly spend any quality time together.”
“You don’t know that for sure, though – for all we know she could be trying very hard with Kerry. And I’m sure it must be frustrating for both of them . . .” Laura trailed off, becoming uncomfortable with the conversation, and Nicola read the vibe. “Look, I’m not suggesting it’s Helen’s fault or anything, and she did take her to that speech therapist, it’s just . . . well, I think that a child like Kerry needs more attention and encouragement than she’s getting.”
“You wouldn’t say anything?” Helen would undoubtedly react angrily to any suggestion concerning her parenting, as would any mother.
Nicola shook her head. “Of course, not – what Helen does with Kerry is her own business.”
“In fairness, I’m sure it’s pretty difficult bringing her up on her own. There’s no one to consult with, and no one else to share the work.”
“Laura, as single mothers go, Helen has it easier than most. She has her own apartment, an excellent salary, a reliable childminder and no shortage of friends who are only too willing to help out if needed. Not your typical single mother.”
“Yes, but it’s very easy for us to talk. I know I wouldn’t like to be in Helen’s position,” she said, thinking how lonely it must be. “You said a while ago she was seeing someone – is that still on?”
Nicola shook her head. “She told me that he was good fun, but in the end they weren’t suited. Ah, she’s just too damned fussy.”
Laura looked up, surprised. “Do you think that’s it?”
“Of course! Think about it, Laura – of all the guys she’s been out with since Jamie left, every single one of them had some kind of fault. Either he was too young, too old, too short, too tall, too bald, too hairy . . . !”
Laura laughed. “Maybe you’re right. It’ll take something special to satisfy our Helen.”
“Jimmy Choo possibly?” Nicola grinned and drained her coffee cup.
“Maybe,” Laura sat forward, her mind on something else. “Listen, Nic, you haven’t really said anything since, so I don’t know if you want to talk about it but . . .”
“The Dan thing?”
“Yes. Are you OK about it? I mean, it must have been strange finding out the way you did, and I just wondered if –”
Nicola shrugged and looked down into her coffee cup. “Maybe I’m stupid, but I think he could have told me he was getting married, Laura. Oh, I know I’m probably expecting too much of him. We both know what Dan is like – and we are divorced, after all. But still, I know that if I was the one getting married again, I’d make it my business to tell him about it.”
Laura agreed with her, but then again, as Nicola said herself, they were now divorced. Dan didn’t have to say anything but perhaps, just out of courtesy, he should have let her know. “I understand,” she said, “but besides that – is the fact that he’s getting married again bothering you?”
Nicola looked at her. “Difficult question. To be honest, Laura, since Ken and I got together, I haven’t given Dan a second thought. I mean, why would I? Ken’s wonderful and everything’s great between us but . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. “I don’t know, I think all of this has just thrown me off balance a bit, and I’m not exactly sure why.”
“What does Ken think?”
Nicola grimaced. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Nic . . .”
“I know, I should have said something, but then again, is it such a big deal? If I tell Ken that I’ve known about this for a while and didn’t tell him, then of course he’ll wonder why I’m making an issue out of it.”
Laura nodded in agreement. She was sure Ken would understand why Nicola was a little thrown by Dan’s marriage, but still, there was no point in rocking the boat.
Nicola brightened. “Anyway, what’s done is done. Dan’s getting married again and he didn’t have the decency to bother telling me – fair enough. Yes, it surprised me a little at first, but now it’s not that big a deal. I’m getting on with my life, Dan’s getting on with his – and good luck to him.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes!” Nicola laughed, ending the discussion. “Now come on. We’re getting nothing done nattering away like this!”
Laura reached for her coat. “Let’s head down to Brown Thomas first, and take a look at some of the accessories they’re stocking. It might give me some idea of what I’m up against.”
“Sure,” Nicola followed her towards the door, but moved so quickly she bumped hard against another table on the way out. She looked in dismay at the two women seated there, one of whom was mopping up what looked like spilt cappuccino. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, horrified. “Please let me get you another one.”
“It’s no problem,” the woman said, with a smile. “It had gone cold anyway.”
Nicola looked apologetically from the woman to her companion, and suddenly her features broke into a wide smile.
“Carolyn?” she said, pleasantly surprised. “It is you – isn’t it? How are you?”
“Hello,” said the woman called Carolyn. “I didn’t realise it was you . . . I hardly recognised you.”
“Well, I certainly have changed since the last time you saw me!” Nicola said laughing. “But listen, how are you? How are things?”
“Fine, fine. This is Alma McGuinness. Alma – Nicola Hunt.”
“Well, it’s Nicola Peters, now.” Nicola smiled and shook hands with the other woman.
“Hi.” Alma warmly returned the handshake.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Nicola, I’d almost forgotten you and Dan were . . . well, it’s so long since I’ve seen you.”
“Not at all, it’s no problem. So tell me, how’s John?”
“He’s fine.” Carolyn didn’t elaborate.
“Oh – well, tell him I said hello.”
“I will.”
There was a short pause, an awkward pause, Laura felt, but Nicola didn’t seem to notice.
“Carolyn, I must go, my friend is waiting, but we should meet for coffee soon.”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
“I’ll give you a ring at home sometime? You’re still at the same number?”
“Yes. Good seeing you again, Nicola.”
“Are you sure I can’t get you another drink?” Nicola turned again to Alma, who smiled and waved her away. “Well, I suppose I’d better be more careful on my way out!” She gave a self-deprecating grin. “Lovely to meet you, Alma. Carolyn, we’ll talk soon.”
The others said goodbye, and the two girls made their way back out onto the street. “Carolyn O’Leary,” Nicola said, shaking her head from side to side. “I haven’t seen her in ages. She’s John’s wife, remember?”
“That’s who she is – I couldn’t place her.” Laura knew that Nicola and Carolyn, the wife of Dan’s business partner, had been very close before the split.
Nicola sighed. “She looks fantastic, as usual – and she’s lost loads of weight since I last saw her. She must have got some shock when she saw me!”
Laura smiled but said nothing.
“I really must arrange to meet up with her, soon.” Nicola continued. “I could do with a good night out, and Carolyn was always good for a giggle. Anyway, let’s get moving, only three more shopping hours in the day left!”
The two girls waded through the crowds, and headed in the direction of Grafton St.
* * *
Later that evening, Maureen Fanning was shuffling around Laura’s workshop, her mouth set in a firm, thin line.
It had been a few weeks since Laura announced her intention of going into business, and she still hadn’t managed to get over her parents’ reaction. She had asked her mam and dad to visit, in the. hope that they would notice the professional set-up, and perhaps realise that she was serious about this business – that it wasn’t just some silly idea. She had spent most of the previous weekend making a selection of pendants, necklaces and earrings, and had laid them out in full view, hoping her parents would be impressed by them.
If it wasn’t for Neil, Laura wasn’t sure if she would have the strength to continue with her plans. He and Nicola had been so supportive and enthusiastic about the idea that maybe they had instilled a confidence in Laura that she didn’t really possess. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe her designs weren’t really that good. Maybe she was mad to take a chance.
Yet, something else inside Laura was telling her that she should go for it. Neil’s cousin had done a fantastic job with the website, and had used ‘every trick in the book’ to ensure the site would be well placed on the best-known search engines. Laura never tired of logging on and putting test orders through. It always thrilled her to see the orders appear as the subject line in her inbox. She just hoped that there would be plenty of those in the near future.
But while sometimes her excitement soared, there were times when her confidence dived sharper than a kite without a breeze. This she knew was mostly down to her mother’s reaction.
“Looks like you’ve spent more money on this nonsense than you have on your own wedding,” Maureen said, her caustic tone cutting her daughter to the quick. “Honestly, Laura, you’d think that making sure your own flesh and blood had a decent day out would be more in your line than all this.”
She was still going on about the fact that Laura and Neil were only having a small wedding, and had neglected to invite Maureen’s brothers and sisters, the majority of whom Laura considered embarrassing troublemakers.
“Mam, I know you’d like them all to be there, but we just want a quiet family wedding,” she said patiently, hoping that Maureen would notice some of her newer designs. As her enthusiasm and her confidence grew, she had become more and more elaborate in her creations.
“But do you not realise that I’ll get the brunt of it?” Maureen continued her complaint, and much to Laura’s disappointment ignored her displays and returned to the kitchen. “It’s all right for you, away up here in Dublin, but I have to live in the village. You know how Frances treated me down in the butcher’s that time when I forgot her youngest’s twenty-first. I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life!”
Apparently, Maureen’s sister Frances had announced loudly to the rest of the queue, that ‘some people were so up in themselves these days, that they couldn’t be bothered even sending a card or a few euro to her poor Farrah’. ‘Poor Farrah’ was seven months pregnant at the time, so apparently she needed all the euro she could get. But Maureen had never got over what she saw as ‘the humiliation of it’.
Laura couldn’t understand how her mother failed to see that her siblings were a bunch of freeloading users. If any of them needed a loan (or more often a handout never to be repaid), Maureen was the first one they turned to. If they needed a lift to or from the town, she would hop in the car without complaint and take them where they wanted to go. She never got anything in return, but for some reason was afraid of her life to risk upsetting her family.
Laura filled the kettle with a heavy heart. Maureen obviously wasn’t going to let this one lie. “Look, Mam,” she said, opening a packet of chocolate malted milk, her mother’s favourite biscuits, “if you like, I’ll contact the Kellys and explain the situation with Neil’s mother being so ill – let them know that it won’t be your typical day out.”
“They’ll never forgive me for snubbing them,” Maureen said, as if she hadn’t heard a word. “I’m afraid to show my face down the village now.”
“It’s not you that’s snubbing them, Mam – it’s our wedding.” Laura couldn’t hide her frustration.
“Oh, for goodness sake, Laura, it’s the same thing. If one of their crowd left us off the guest list . . . well!” A look of horror crossed her features. “I’d wonder what I had done to cause offence!”
Laura sighed. It was always the same with her mother’s relations – one would somehow offend the other, and the result could be a family feud that lasted for years. Then having forgotten what the quarrel was about in the first place, they’d all be friends again, at least until the next family member rubbed another up the wrong way. Now Maureen was petrified she would be that member.
“Listen, love,” Joe Fanning spoke in a conciliatory tone, “why don’t we give you a few quid to put towards your day? Maybe then you might be able to stretch to a few extra relations.”
Laura was resolute. “I’m sorry, Dad, but Neil and I have made our decision. We’re having no more than sixty guests on the day, and the others can come to the afters. I’m sorry but that’s the way it has to be.”
There was silence in the small kitchen for a few moments, and Laura soon began to feel Maureen’s disapproval eat into her conscience. She wished Neil was here – he’d think of something to say that would bring the discussion to a close. As it was, Laura didn’t even want to talk about the wedding. She wanted her parents to say something, at least make some comment about the business.
“So what did you think of the workshop, Dad?” she asked eventually. “Neil did a good job of the spare room, didn’t he?”
Joe shook his head. “I don’t know, Laura. It’s a shame to waste a good room like that. I mean what’ll happen when ye decide to have a few young ones. There’ll be nowhere to put them.”
Laura’s heart sank. “Dad, that won’t happen for a long time, at least not until the business is up and running. Oh, I forgot to show you the website – it’s really professional –”
“Laura, would you . . . ah . . . would you not forget about this notion of yours,
and just go back to work?”
“What?” She spun around in surprise. What had her father just said? “Is that what you think this is – a notion?” she said, her heart constricting with disappointment. Whatever about her mother, Laura had always thought that her father – her father who knew how much she loved to sit and draw quietly when all her friends were out playing on the streets, who loved arts and crafts and used to jump at the chance at making home-made cards and decorations every Christmas – would be supportive.
“Your father’s right, Laura.” Maureen smiled across at her husband. “I don’t know what kind of ideas Neil Connolly’s been putting in your head, but I think it’s about time somebody put you straight.”
“Put me straight?” Laura repeated. “Put me straight about what?”
“About the fact that you’re never going to make a living for yourself with this jewellery nonsense.” Joe’s tone softened when he saw his daughter’s pained expression. “Look, pet, would you not try it part-time first and see how it goes? It might not go well at all for you and you mightn’t make much money out of it. You don’t want to be putting yourself and Neil under pressure.”
“You don’t understand, Dad,” Laura’s voice was barely a whisper. “This is something I’ve wanted to do for most of my life. You know I’m good at it; I’ve always been good at it. And surely it’s not all about the money; it’s about being happy.”
“It is all about money when you buy a house in a uppity place like this.” Maureen wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, I saluted one of your neighbours on the way in here today, and she looked at me as if I was a bit of dirt! Well, I’ll tell you, Laura, that wouldn’t happen down our way – down home we all know where we come from, and none of us think we’re something we’re not.”
Laura ignored the jibe. “Mam, it’s Dublin-people don’t live in one another’s pockets here. The neighbour wasn’t snubbing you – she just didn’t know you. She doesn’t even know me, for Chrissake!”