The Stone House

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The Stone House Page 23

by Marita Conlon-McKenna


  ‘Congratulations, Kate dear!’ Her aunt smiled, toasting her. ‘Babies are always to be celebrated. And we all know you will make a wonderful mother.’

  Chapter Thirty

  AS THE WEEKS passed, Kate began to adjust to her condition, to the office porter holding the door for her, the post boy keeping her supplied with fizzy Ballygowan water, and Bill not blowing a gasket when one day she actually dozed off in the middle of a meeting and woke up to find herself covered in a throw and with the blinds drawn.

  Derry phoned her once or twice a week and their conversations often went on for hours. They went for healthy walks every few weeks and he had accompanied her to the hospital for her ultrasound scan, which made her feel like a character in a Richard Curtis film. But otherwise she saw very little of him for he travelled a lot and was busy designing and supervising the building of a catamaran in Belfast. Kate in turn was content to live a quiet life. To read and relax and walk, and enjoy solitary pleasures before the impending upheaval of a child which her friends were warning about.

  ‘Everything will change. Just you wait and see!’

  ‘Come on, Kate. Come out and enjoy yourself now!’ pleaded Alison, who was organizing her sister Dee’s hen night.

  Kate had never considered the raucous behaviour of a group of women, single or married, celebrating the impending nuptials of one of their group by coming together in the shared female spirit of drinking and eating and dancing together till all hours something that needed to be copied. She often sidestepped such gangs as they giggled through the city streets with Manchester and Limerick and Belfast accents. However, now that Dee, one of her college friends, had finally decided to tie the knot with her partner Johnny after five years, a form of ritual female celebration was definitely necessary and she had agreed to join the merry throng.

  Minnie’s whirlwind romance and marriage to Colm had been celebrated with a glitzy hen weekend in New York with a faithful few. Dee’s at least was simpler, less expensive and less exclusive, friends she’d amassed over thirty years all roped in. Kate was really only going along with Minnie and the rest of the girls in a vague attempt to make herself feel young and sexy and available. Dee was determined to give it a lash on one of her last nights of freedom.

  There was dinner in Eden, followed by a pub-crawl to two places in Temple Bar and then a nightclub.

  ‘What’s the point to me going?’ she’d argued with Minnie. ‘It’s not like I can drink a lot with the baby and all I keep doing at the moment is falling asleep.’

  ‘All the more reason you need to come, Kate! You’re not sitting at home knitting bootees, that’s for sure.’

  She’d pulled on a John Rocha black top and a Guess skirt that didn’t cut into her waist and made her feel floaty and feminine. Lots of black eye-liner and a ton of mascara made her eyes huge in her face, which of late seemed to have got rounder and full. She had forced herself to eat half a packet of water crackers and some cheese, washed down with a glass of milk, before she went out. She promised to be good and stay on the straight and narrow and confine herself to wine spritzers for the night.

  Minnie was wearing a plunge bra under an almost see-through pale pink shirt and jeans that looked like they were almost sprayed on.

  Kate sighed.

  She wasn’t even a mother yet, but already she felt like an old fuddy-duddy!

  Temple Bar was jammered as they made their way to the Eden restaurant, where the bride was already on her third cocktail. Everyone agreed that food was definitely a priority as they perused the menu.

  Kate relaxed, letting herself enjoy the atmosphere of the restaurant, and joined in the joking and reminiscing with Dee’s school and college friends and the people from Aracon, the computer company where she worked.

  Dee was happier than Kate had ever seen her and hugged them in turn when they each read out a verse of poetry they had written about her. The wine was flowing and the conversation getting more animated and noisy when, deciding to skip desserts – ‘We’ve got to watch our figures for the wedding’ – they paid their bill and set off along Eustace Street for the Temple Bar, one of the busiest bars in the area.

  The place was heaving and they had to shout at each other. Minnie was fending off a drunken Scot who was on a stag night also.

  ‘We two should get it together,’ he tried to persuade Minnie, tipping a glass of Heineken over her shirt.

  ‘Piss off!’ she told him, before she disappeared to the Ladies to try and get the stain out.

  ‘This cost me a fortune!’ she moaned as Kate patted at it with some water and Minnie dried it off on the hand drier.

  Kate checked to make sure the coast was clear before they went back outside.

  Dee was flirting outrageously with another Glaswegian, and for her sake Minnie and her sister Alison decided it was time to leave.

  ‘Come on, Dee, we’re moving!’

  The reluctant bride had to be reminded of the ring on her finger and Johnny, the man who’d put it there, as she was pushed out the door to safety.

  ‘God, that was a close thing!’

  ‘The Porter House next!’

  A huge cheer went up the minute they crossed the threshold as a load of Dee’s colleagues were already in situ.

  Brews and beer, wine and vodka . . . Kate had to remind herself of her condition as she ordered a sparkling water. The bar was hopping, the girls going crazy as they joined in a singsong version of ‘Waterloo’, and shouted and screamed to be heard. Kate felt like a spinster aunt. Ally was complaining about her boss and Sorcha, a tall thin girl she barely knew, was telling her the intimate details of her five-month affair with a married colleague. As Minnie passed with a tray of drinks, Kate grabbed a glass of wine. She’d sip it slowly.

  The barmen were calling closing time when they finally managed to round everyone up for the trek to Leeson Street, waving like a shower of lunatics as they flagged down a posse of oncoming taxis.

  Buck’s was still quiet as they marched down the basement stairs, a couple of banker finance types ensconced at the club’s bar talking loudly above the music about trades and interest percentage points. Kate stifled a yawn. At the moment they were all busy trying to impress each other. It would be another hour or two before they turned their attention to the ladies. She threw some money into the kitty for champagne, hoping they had orange juice too, and collapsed into the comfort of a red leather couch. This was more like it. The dance floor was empty and a few couples were wrapped up in each other in the small booths. Strange, normally she could keep going, dancing and talking till the wee hours of the morning but at the moment she was like Cinderella, wanting to race home at midnight. Minnie passed her a warning glance and she tried to sit up and appear animated and full of life, banishing her intense longing for the comfort of her own springy mattress and plump pillows. This was awful! She had to pull herself together! Perhaps if she went to the bathroom, threw some cold water on her face, replenished her lipstick and mascara. She slipped out of the seat in the middle of Dee’s emotional retelling of the first time she’d had sex with Johnny. That she could definitely do without!

  She glanced at her exhausted face in the mirror, using her mascara brush to curl her eyelashes up to make her eyes look more open and alert.

  She’d walk around the place slowly on her way back. Another hour and she’d make her excuses. Dee wouldn’t mind. As she exited the pink and silver Ladies, she stopped in her tracks. Derry was leaning across the rails opposite. She hadn’t seen him for weeks, not since they’d walked along Dun Laoghaire pier and shared a snack in It’s a Bagel. He looked over at her.

  He smiled and her heart lurched as she went towards him. She would never have imagined him here in Buck’s!

  ‘Kate! What are you doing here?’

  Her cheeks flamed. It was hardly the place to find an expectant mother.

  ‘I’m with Minnie and a crowd of the girls. It’s Dee’s hen night. What about you?’

  ‘I’m with a f
riend.’

  He hugged her awkwardly, and the smell of his Hugo Boss cologne and alcohol and sweat made the familiar longing to stay in his arms wash over her.

  ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Never better.’ She felt giddy and it wasn’t the baby, it was just being around him.

  ‘You look great. Glowing.’

  She stood there simpering like an eejit.

  ‘You know if there is anything you need . . . anything!’

  ‘Anything . . .’ she repeated slowly, wanting to pull him closer to her.

  ‘For the baby.’

  She stood for a second, suddenly conscious of a petite dark-haired girl who had appeared beside them.

  ‘Derry, I told you they had food. There’s panini, pasta or fish. The waitress said she’d bring a menu over to us in a few minutes.’

  The sallow-skinned vixen pushed in between them, her green eyes teasing. She was about five foot two and was tiny and perfect, wearing a simple cream shirt and a pair of black trousers, her waist emphasized with an expensive silver belt.

  ‘Nadia, this is a friend of mine, Kate. Kate Dillon.’

  Wary, they said hello to each other. Kate could feel the other girl’s eyes run dismissively over her, deciding she was no threat as she possessively put her arm around Derry’s waist. She didn’t own him! She should have known that a man like Derry was bound to be involved in an intense relationship. She had been a diversion, a simple diversion, sexy, pleasurable, a few days’ fun. Nothing more than that. Who knew what went on in a guy’s head, but judging by the lady at his side Derry was most definitely taken.

  ‘I’m starving, Derry,’ Nadia complained.

  Derry looked uncomfortable and Kate surmised he was only being polite to her. There was no competition between herself and the raven-haired sexy nymphet who was obviously his girlfriend. This was all too bloody awful and embarrassing to be true and she could have happily murdered Minnie for not letting her follow her instincts and stay home. He must think she was pathetic. On the prowl with a rowdy lot of women who were doing their best to disgrace themselves on the dance floor. It had to look bad!

  Kate fixed a polite smile on her face. Dee and Lisa and Jane and Minnie were screaming at her to join them. Derry looked amused. ‘I’d better go,’ she excused herself, ‘my friends are waiting for me. Nice to meet you both.’

  She felt hurt and humiliated and longed to grab her coat and leave the stupid club immediately, but knew it would be too obvious.

  Hell would freeze over before she’d join the girls and give that Nadia the satisfaction of seeing her make a fool of herself. Instead she slipped back to the couch. Sorcha was weepy and was now confessing the fear that her affair was coming to an end. ‘What am I meant to do?’ she wailed. ‘What am I meant to say?’

  Kate tried to look interested and ignore the couple wrapped around each other in the back booth. She had to get away, get out of here. It was as if every bit of her was over-aware. Senses heightened, she was conscious of Derry’s presence only a few yards away. She thought she had accepted her position with him, but now realized that the idea of him kissing or touching or being intimate with another female was too much to bear.

  Minnie and Dee collapsed hot and sweating on the bench beside her. She hated being a killjoy but she had to get away, escape.

  ‘Dee, I’m really sorry but I’m going to have to go.’

  ‘Ah Kate, c’mon! Don’t be such a loser!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dee. I just feel exhausted. I’m not much fun at the moment.’

  Minnie glared at her.

  ‘Look I am sorry.’ She stood up to go, hugging them both. ‘Have a great night. I’ll ring you both tomorrow.’

  ‘Will you be OK?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  Never had anyone got a coat and run up the stairs and into a cab so quickly. Kate was relieved that Derry hadn’t even once glanced in her direction or noticed her leave. Tears pricked her eyes and she cursed her own stupidity. She wondered when Derry would get round to telling his beautiful girlfriend of his impending fatherhood!

  Chapter Thirty-one

  MOLLY CATHERINE DILLON Donovan was born two weeks early much to the surprise of her mother, who on her last day in work was standing at the office lift when she went into labour. Kate frantically tried to remember what she had learned in her pre-natal classes as a wave of contractions overcame her on the taxi ride from the IFSC to Holles Street Hospital.

  Only minutes from delivery with a nurse holding her hand, Derry arrived in, having driven like a lunatic up from Wicklow when he’d got her phone message.

  ‘Are you sure you want to be here, Derry?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ he insisted, sitting down beside her and kissing her sweaty forehead.

  Her labour was fast and furious and thirty minutes later she delivered a most perfect baby girl.

  She had a fuzz of light fair hair and a rosebud mouth and button of a nose and cried loudly until Kate held her, skin touching skin. Overcome, Derry wrapped them both in his arms.

  Exalted and exhausted, Kate was glad of the small private room where Molly greedily sucked on her nipple, as Derry took photos of his beautiful new daughter.

  Lying awake in the darkness later that night Kate stared at her sleeping child, realizing that now her world had changed for ever.

  Her mother and Aunt Vonnie arrived up to see the new arrival two days later.

  ‘She’s such a darling,’ laughed her mother, with Molly’s fist wrapped around her little finger. ‘I just wish your father was here to see her.’

  Aunt Vonnie took a turn at holding the baby.

  ‘Kate, she has your eyes but don’t you think she’s got a great look of Maeve?’

  ‘Will you be all right going home, Kate, or would you like me to stay up for a few days with you?’ offered her mother, delighted.

  ‘No, Mum, I’ll be fine. Anyways, Molly and I have to get used to each other.’

  ‘You know you’re more than welcome to come down home and let me pamper you!’ smiled her mother. ‘New babies are hard work.’

  Moya had sent a huge bouquet of flowers and a card, and Bill her boss had arrived in looking sheepish with a spray of white roses and a big teddy bear for Molly.

  Minnie produced a bottle of champagne and a few glasses during visiting time, telling Kate it was high time they drank a toast to her new god-daughter. Two days later, Derry collected them and drove them home.

  Her modern apartment suddenly seemed even less roomy as it began to fill with baby paraphernalia, every spare surface covered. Molly, noticing the strangeness of the place, opened her mouth and yelled as Derry and Kate did their utmost to quieten down the baby. So much for a calm homecoming, she thought, as they took turns pacing the floor with the tiny bundle, who loved being walked and held.

  Exhausted Kate fell into bed after a sandwich and a glass of milk and was almost unconscious with sleep when Derry woke her to tell her Molly needed feeding again.

  They managed to struggle through those first few days, Kate eternally grateful for Derry’s calm demeanour as he walked and held and changed the baby, making sure she got time to eat and sleep and get showered.

  A few weeks later, walking together along Sandymount Strand with Molly dozing peacefully in the buggy, she realized how impossible her situation would have been without him, and how utterly attached to him both she and Molly had become.

  ‘Marry me, Kate,’ he asked, as she stared at the Poolbeg towers and the cranes and towers of the distant docklands. ‘Molly needs a father.’

  ‘You are her father,’ she replied, surprised.

  ‘She needs to be able to go to school or playgroup and be like all the other kids with a mammy and daddy, Mr and Mrs Donovan, that the teachers can write home notes to.’

  ‘I think it’s a bit too soon for that.’

  ‘Please, Kate, think about it.’

  She must be mad, she thought. The man she was crazy about was proposing for a seco
nd time and she still couldn’t say that simple word yes. He didn’t have to be besotted and madly in love with her – surely loving Molly would be enough. She swallowed hard, she was expecting far too much, expecting someone like Derry Donovan to swear undying love and devotion for her. She’d read too many soppy romantic novels and watched too many mushy films and now when she was faced with reality was hoping for an orchestra and violin strings and a Tom Hanks ending. Fucking wise up, Kate, she told herself as she promised Derry she’d think about it.

  Molly thrived, and her own hormones finally began to get under some control, so she didn’t weep when she saw a child and a kite or an old man and his grandson kicking football in the park and was finally able to sit at her kitchen table and eat toast and drink coffee and finish the Irish Times crossword.

  The christening was held in the Stone House, during the summer, when her Uncle Eamonn was home from the States and Moya and her family were over. Kate knew the Monkstown apartment would never fit the relations and friends and besides neither Derry nor herself had any affinity with any particular parish.

  ‘I do pray,’ she protested, ‘but in different churches and places.’

  Minnie was thrilled at the out of Dublin location for her god-daughter’s christening. ‘Who’ll be the godfather?’ she quizzed Derry.

  His brother Tom was away working in Saudi and Kate was pleased when he suggested Conor Quinn, her cousin.

  ‘After all, if he hadn’t dragged you off sailing, Molly minx might not be here!’

  On the first Sunday of the month in July the christening was held. Father Glynn had no problem handing over his altar and baptismal font to Father Eamonn Ryan who at this stage had become an old friend. His predecessor Father Bolger wouldn’t have let Kate Dillon and her child across the threshold of the church but thankfully those days of hell and brimstone Catholicism were gone and he was delighted to welcome another Dillon to the parish.

 

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