Sandra screamed. She went to the fridge and grabbed the wine bottle. What was happening with them? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just let it go for a while? Okay, she did want a baby so badly it hurt. She couldn’t help that. It was deep inside her. She wanted him to want the baby just as badly too but she just didn’t think he did.
She grabbed a glass, opened the laptop on the kitchen table and flicked on her moms-to-be website. She had been on it a lot lately – she would check it a few times daily. She poured a huge glass of wine.
Nicky Moore was online. She was also in the trying-to-conceive group.
Hi. Nicky’s words popped up. How are you?
Not good! Sandra whacked the keys in response. You? She waited for the reply as the computer told her Nicky was typing.
Not feeling too great but started the IVF again today so fingers crossed this time.
Sandra leaned in closer to the screen, her bare feet cosy in the rug under the wooden kitchen table. Good luck, Nicky. I didn’t know you were trying again so soon? She waited.
I’m not telling anyone this time! Nicky hit back. I’m too nervous.
Sandra banged the keys hard again. Keep me posted, OK?
Will do. When are you starting again?
Hopefully soon! Sandra bashed the words out and drank a long bitter gulp of wine.
Nicky was suddenly gone offline. Sandra found that with this site: it was all cloak and dagger. Good luck, Nicky, wish I was in your shoes right now. She knocked back her glass of wine and stared out of the cottage window. She could see old Mr Peter’s cottage across the field – it had been empty for so long now. She’d always loved it as a child.
She rose from the table, reached for the phone and slowly dialled the number she knew off by heart.
“Hello, Doctor Brady’s office.”
“Hi, it’s Sandra Darragh here. I’d like to talk to the doctor about starting another round of IVF as soon as possible. I’m thinking of July?”
Chapter 11
Cara closed the door behind her, her red hair wild and her face red from the cold night air. Esther was sitting in the hall, on the phone, no doubt to Ann.
Cara had gone to dinner with Alex in The Gresham Hotel again. It was one of his favourite old Dublin hotels and it really was still stunning. Alex knew a lot about the place.
“It was my dad’s favourite haunt,” he explained as he pulled out the big soft armchair for her. “Did you know, Cara, that a Thomas Gresham bought 21-22 Sackville Street and started up his own hotel? I know how much you like hotels so I thought you’d like this story.” He sat down opposite her. “Thomas Gresham is a fascinating person. He was a foundling child, abandoned on the steps of the Royal Exchange. Thomas Gresham came here to Ireland and as a very young man obtained employment in the service of William Beauman of Rutland Square in Dublin. After some time, though, and he was still really young, he became a butler to the family. Now remember, Cara, this was an important position in the Georgian household with its complicated domestic structure. In 1817 Thomas left Beauman’s household to open this hotel. How he acquired the capital to undertake an enterprise of this size has never been known.” Alex opened his eyes wide now, making her laugh. “Today Gresham Hotels is a privately owned company and has six properties around the world.”
“Wow!” Cara was impressed at his knowledge. “Brainy boy! Alex Charles on Mastermind: specialist subject The Gresham Hotel!” she laughed. “How did you know all that?”
“Easy,” he smiled as the waiter approached them. “I read the writing on the plaque under the picture of Thomas Gresham behind you!”
Now Esther smiled at her and she could see the brown toffee of the éclair wave at her too.
Cara unravelled her white scarf and took off her fluffy Dunne’s fleece. Her sheep gear, Alex had called it, laughing, but she knew he didn’t really like it.
This was going to be so hard and she was dreading it. She loved Esther with all her heart. She thought of her sitting out there on the phone, sucking on her sweets, feet still in her dark tan tights stuffed into her old battered pink slippers with the backs stood in on them – no matter how many pairs of slippers Cara bought her for various Christmases she always went back to them.
Cara looked around the small house now with new eyes. Since meeting Alex she realised her little life had changed a lot. It was all about fancy restaurants and eating out every night he was here, and now lately the house-hunting. Cara had been thrilled when he brought up the possibility of them moving in together. He hadn’t exactly asked her to move in with him – he’d more or less just announced they should look at places. She hadn’t realised Dublin was so big. She was used to just going to and from work to their little semi-detached in Harold’s Cross. Her life was very predictable. Esther would have the evening’s TV circled in red pen in the Evening Herald. They would watch everything she had chosen, back to back, until it was time for bed. It was only with her new eyes that she could now see that the little house was well and truly looking shabby. The net curtains she had always liked looked so old-fashioned to her now, the living room with its dozens of assorted ornaments and almost antique television the same – and the same old brown squared patterned carpet they’d had forever. But the house was spotless: Esher was a very clean person. She had her routine. Starting every morning in the kitchen she mopped the lino and scrubbed the surfaces, then into the front room where she would vacuum and then the Brasso and Silvo or damp cloth would be out for each individual ornament. She was meticulous with her cleaning. The stairs were vacuumed and the Shake n’ Vac sprinkled lightly on each step and in the bedrooms. Esther always sang the Shake n’ Vac ad tune when she did this. Every day. The bathroom always took her the longest: it was bleached and scrubbed within an inch of its life. The brasses on the hall door would then be shone and the step scrubbed in disinfectant.
Cara had been just fifteen when her dad had passed. Her parents had tried for children for years, only having her late in life. Esther had to find a job quickly. Esther, who had got married at seventeen, straight out of school, and never worked a day in her life outside the home, had gone out to work in Rosie’s Café by the airport. She had to be in work at five o’clock in the morning, making fries and breakfast rolls for the airport workers and builders who passed through. She worked hard until five in the evening, six days a week. Esther had never once complained. Esther had never once missed a day. She had earned the right to eat as many éclairs as she wanted and to wear her worn-out slippers. Cara had left school with a good enough Leaving Cert and got a job in Rosie’s too. She loved working with Esther. It was a really busy café and a fantastic place to learn her trade. As with The Law Top later, she was often envious of the glamorous air stewardesses and business people who passed through.
Esther had never wanted to marry again but there had been a short-lived romance when Cara was still in school with a man she had met in Rosie’s. She never spoke about him too much, only to tell Cara her heart just wasn’t in it. That was good enough for Cara. She remembered the night her mother was getting ready to go on a date with him to a hotel in town. Esther had looked very strange with the bright-red lipstick and the high-heeled shoes. Cara had thought she didn’t look like her mother at all. Esther had even painted her nails. Her Auntie Ann was over to sit with her and Cara had started to cry. Ridiculous at her age but she couldn’t help it.
Her dad’s sister had hugged her close as Esther closed the door behind her. “Your mother is entitled to a life, love – she’s still a relatively young woman.”
Cara never asked what happened that night. She was just glad when Esther returned home later, spoke in hushed tones to Ann but never went out looking like that ever again.
Yes, the house looked shabby, Cara thought as she held the net curtain in her hand. She realised guiltily she didn’t like these new eyes of hers very much.
“What on earth are you wearing, pet?” Esther shuffled in and flopped on the couch. Cara stood up
on the grate around the fireplace and gazed into the mirror above it. “What? What do you mean what am I wearing?”
“Well, ya look like a man, that’s what!” Esther swallowed now.
“Get lost, Mam!” Cara laughed but Esther was right – indeed she did feel a bit like a man today. “It’s called smart casual, if you must know!” She smoothed her hair in its tight bun with her hands.
“Well, in that case ya look like a smarty casual man then.” Esther picked up the remote control and did the usual pointing it at the TV as though it was a loaded gun, squinting her eyes as she held on to it for dear life.
Cara stood down off the grate and gazed into the mirror again. She had bought a white shirt in PINK on Nassau Street that had cost her a week’s wages and she’d teamed it with some black pants from Dunne’s stores and black patent pumps. She had wanted to look the part for the Sandymount viewing. Alex had mentioned they needed to look like serious clients and not a couple of loved-up messers. It wasn’t really her, she admitted. She’d done her best to meet his standards but she’d seen the way he’d looked at her fleece which she wore over the shirt.
“I’m just going to change so.” She stuck her tongue out playfully at Esther who was now swaying from side to side on the couch, pressing buttons like a trigger.
“Don’t forget to shave!” Esther laughed at her own joke as she eventually found her favourite Friends repeats and let out a gasp of surprise like she had every night for the last three years. “It’s on!” she squealed and immediately fished into her cream cardigan pocket for an éclair.
“Mam, seriously, you’ve seen every episode at least fifty times – enough with the Friends repeats!” Cara sighed – she really was sick and tired of Friends.
“It’s Ross Week on Comedy Central, ya know. I love Ross, he’s me favourite.”
Cara rolled her eyes – she knew what was coming – she’d heard it all before on a daily basis.
“It’s funny, ya know, Cara – it was Joey for years, wasn’t it, and then suddenly – well, I think actually it was the episode when Ross had to roller-skate to work between the two campuses that just turned it for me. From then on it was all Ross. ‘We were on a break! We were on a break! No more, How you doin’.’” Esther shouted her best Ross impression and began to roar laughing. “Could Chandler be any more hysterical?” She popped the sweet into her mouth now and folded her arms contentedly.
“Yes, okay, listen, Mam, I’m going up to change but I need to talk to you when I come back down. Will you be going to bingo tonight?”
Esther didn’t look up until she had chewed enough to be able to speak. “No, it’s too windy. I’ll stay put, I think. We could put on a few of those Tesco sausage rolls later if you fancy that?” She chewed some more.
Cara nodded and closed the front-room door behind her. She leaned down and pulled off her pumps and held them in her hand as she pulled her body up the stairs by the old wooden banister. She flopped down on her single bed. She suddenly felt like she was being pulled in two different directions. She glanced out at her streetlight as it shone brightly and she could see the betting shop Pete’s Punters opposite, with Mr Courtney leaning against the wall smoking his roll-up.
“You are too old to live here any more,” she whispered out the window and pulled her curtains across. She knew she was. It really was time she made a life for herself. She was thirty-three for crying out loud and so excited at the thought of starting a brand-new life with Alex. All she wanted was for Esther to be happy too. She wanted Esther to sell up here and get an apartment close to them. She wanted her mother to live nearby so she could see her often. If that was mad then, so be it, she was mad. As much as Alex had listened and nodded on their early dates when she told him how lost Esther was emotionally when Lar had died and how she needed her, he wasn’t making it any easier for Cara now. Did this make him a bad person, she wondered as she unbuttoned the starched white shirt. No man wanted his girlfriend’s mother living beside them, she got that, but if he just got to know Esther he’d realise she wasn’t like anyone else. She wasn’t needy or nosy. She wouldn’t pry into their lives in a million years – she’d just get on with her own while minding her own business.
She took her brush from her dressing table and let down the tight bun. The relief was wonderful. She brushed out her long red hair before scooping it up again, this time into her trusted messy knot on the top of her head. “What am I to him?” she asked the mirror. “His girlfriend, yeah, but is it going to be more? Do I want to marry Alex? Does he want to marry me? Oh, why can’t I ask him any of the really important questions?”
She pulled off the black pants now and stood in her bra and knickers. She actually had matching underwear. For the first time in her life she was paying attention to what was on under her clothes. She grabbed her orange T-shirt off the chair and put it on. As she pulled on her grey leggings, soft socks and fake Uggs she gasped out loud. “Ah, comfort at last!”
She was madly in love with Alex and she believed that he was madly in love with her so why was this odd feeling hanging over her? It was guilt, she nodded her head – that uneasy feeling was pure guilt – she felt awful leaving Esther alone. She grabbed the bedspread and threw it back as she did every night. A habit her dad had got her into. Let the bed know you will be up soon, he used to say laughing. He was always laughing. So she still did it every night.
She made her way downstairs.
Esther was humming the Friends theme tune.
“Mam, I need to talk to you.”
“Of course you do, love.” She muted the TV with a generous overly heavy-handed press of the red button. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me: you want to move out and live with Alex, am I right?” She smiled warmly at Cara.
Cara couldn’t read her face. “Yes, Mam.” She slid into the comfy blue sofa beside her mother. “It’s just that it’s probably time, don’t you think?” She swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Oh, absolutely, love!” Esther grabbed Cara’s hands and held them tightly.
Cara watched the familiar purple veins in her hands rise.
“I’m delighted for you, love. I have only met Alex those two times but I thought he was a lovely, lovely man and you know I’m over the moon with the whole pilot thing!” She was joking now to ease Cara’s obvious tension. “But, seriously, if it feels right then I am more than thrilled for you. I know it’s time you lived your own life and I have never tried to stand in your way. I know you want a partner in life and maybe children – so go for it and you have my full support. Your happiness is all that matters to me, be it you are happy here or happy living with Alex or happy to go bag-packing in Outer Mongolia. Once you are happy?”
Cara squeezed her mother’s hands tightly. She had to admit she did feel badly that Esther hadn’t got to know Alex very well. He had come for tea one night when they first met and they two had got on really well.
Cara had nervously led Alex into the small kitchen where Esther had her back to them, engulfed in steam from their non-fan-assisted oven. She had turned when Cara called her name.
“Mam, I’d like you to meet Alex.”
Esther had an unusual look on her face. One that Cara hadn’t seen before. It was a cross between shock and excitement.
“Well, heeeello there, Alex, and how noice of you to come to tea!” She sounded like Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady now.
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs Byrne.” Alex extended his hand and they shook.
Alex also looked nervous. Wow, Cara thought, these two have put a lot of thought into this meeting.
They sat as Esther fussed around them. Alex had complimented her lamb stew and had eaten every last drop only telling Cara after that he couldn’t stomach lamb stew! How sweet, she thought, that he just got on with it and ate it.
The second occasion they met, Alex took herself and Esther to The Gresham for Sunday lunch. Esther had got dressed up in her good woollen pink suit but Cara didn’t think she’d really enj
oyed the day. When Cara had told her where they were going her face had paled slightly and she’d shaken her head.
“Ah, here, no, Cara, not The Gresham. It’s . . . it’s too formal, is it not? Why don’t we just go to the Kylemore and grab a nice fresh cream cake and a cuppa tea?”
Cara assured her The Gresham was not too formal. They had taken Alex’s favourite window seat and ordered drinks first and Esther had spilt her sherry the second it arrived and a little had run off the table onto Alex’s suit trousers. While Alex didn’t mind in the least, Esther had been mortified and on edge the rest of the day. They watched the passersby on O’Connell Street and chatted sporadically. The lunch had been delicious and Cara had stuffed herself with a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding full roast dinner. The beef had melted in her mouth and she had stuffed her roasties with knobs of butter – the greens she hadn’t touched. Esther had gone for the ham and chicken with jasmine rice while Alex had the Salmon Roulade.
It was probably fair to say that Esther and Alex didn’t have a lot in common but then again they were from very different worlds. He had spoken very little that day about himself, paying much more attention to Esther’s life story. While most women would be flattered by this attention, deep down Cara knew Esther would think he was being nosy. Mind yer own, mister, she was probably saying in her head right now. Cara had tried to change the subject several times but Alex had always been keen to get back to Esther’s life story, obviously thinking that this was the courteous thing to do as this was Esther’s day out.
That evening Alex had dropped them both home but declined to come in as he had an early-morning flight.
The Other Side of Wonderful Page 13