The Other Side of Wonderful

by Caroline Grace-Cassidy

  ***

  Dermot pulled up outside the hospital front doors and told her he would park up and wait. He had plenty of calls to make to the blacksmith and food suppliers and he had brought all his phone numbers with him so she should take her time.

  Sandra nodded and turned to enter the hospital, then halted. There was a big sign in red lettering on the door: VOMITING BUG. DO NOT ENTER.

  Why had the nurse not told her this earlier? Sure she had to enter, she had no choice. She’d have to argue her case if they tried to stop her. She tried to dispense some alcohol rub onto her hands but the dispenser was empty.

  Inside she was surprised not to be confronted with some kind of hospital security barring entry. Shrugging her shoulder she headed for St Anthony’s Ward.

  Neil was sitting up, pale and gaunt but sipping some water through a blue straw. He half smiled when she approached the bed and he put the glass down on his silver bedside locker.

  She pulled the plastic green-and-orange curtain around them and sat.

  “It wasn’t my fault.” He turned his face to hers.

  “I know,” she said.

  “I can’t cope any more, I can’t cope with any of it.”

  She slid her hand over his. “With what, Neil?” she asked him slowly.

  “This is just the icing on the cake. I can’t stand my life right now, Sandra.”

  She removed a crumpled tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. She felt numb. “I don’t know what to say.” She pushed the tissue up her green coat sleeve. “Is it the house?”

  He shook his head and stared at her. “The house is the least of my worries, Sandra. I would have liked that new house if you’d given . . . I mean . . . it’s you.”

  “Me?” She hit her chest hard. The words, however true, still stung.

  “Yeah, you. I cannot take you any more.”

  “Well, okay, Neil, you can’t stand me any more. I get it. Then leave me. What do you want from me? A separation? A divorce? What?” she dared him, really wanting to hear his honest answer at last.

  “Maybe some time?” He looked out the window, wincing as he turned his head.

  “Time? Time for what exactly?” She wouldn’t play this game.

  “You are so sympathetic, Sandra, aren’t you? I am lying here in a hospital bed in case you hadn’t noticed!” He turned away from her.

  “I am sympathetic, Neil, but I don’t know what to do any more. I’m hardly life’s greatest advertisement for happiness now either, am I?”

  The silence hung over them now.

  Why couldn’t she ask him? Why couldn’t she just say ‘Are you seeing someone else again – is this what this is all about, darling? Is your dishonest body cheating on me again, you bastard?’

  “You have worn me down. I no longer feel like a proper man. That’s all because of you. From the moment I knew I couldn’t give you babies naturally, I felt like half a man but you just wouldn’t let it go. Then the business went belly-up and that other half went with it . . .” He trailed off, then added, “You just don’t get it.”

  Sandra stared at the holy picture above his bed. By God, she was lost here. “I do get it, Neil, I really do. I am so, so sorry the IVF didn’t work. But I never meant to hurt you. I never meant you to feel like half a man.” Somebody in the next bed cried out for a nurse and Sandra felt the urge to get up and help him.

  “Leave it – he’s a nut-job.” Neil pulled his sheet slowly up under his chin.

  She shifted uncomfortably on the seat. “So, what? What happens now then?”

  He didn’t answer her. The two of them were so far apart it was hard to know what to say next.

  “So how are you feeling?” was all she could think of now. She knew she could just get up and walk away but it wasn’t the way she operated.

  “Brilliant, Sandra, top notch.” He ground his teeth and tried to lift his bandaged wrist. “There is fuck-all work I can do now.”

  “What can I do, Neil? I don’t know what to do! I have never been in this situation before. I am hurting too, you know.”

  “No, you’re not!” he hissed at her. “All you care about is your baby – baby, baby, baby! I can’t give you that so I’m worthless to you, I can’t pay our mortgage, I can’t do anything. I’d be better off dead.” He started to cry now, horrible heart-wrenching sobs that had the nurse flinging back the curtain and asking Sandra to leave.

  “No, please, can I just stay one more minute?” She implored Neil with her eyes.

  The young dark-haired nurse shook her head firmly. “Come back tonight. He needs to rest. He’s been through a lot, he is very badly bruised and we just got the repeated X-rays back and he has broken ribs also. No more visitors today. And how you both got in I don’t know – there’s a vomiting bug in this hospital. How did you get past security?”

  “There wasn’t any,” Sandra protested.

  The nurse looked puzzled but just gently ushered Sandra out.

  Sandra half ran to the ward door, almost knocking a young woman in a very short red dress over as she went. Unusual attire for a hospital visit, she thought, as she reached the door, her eyes running tears. What was she going to do? She looked back but knew she had to go.

  Dermot was sitting on the bench outside writing in a notebook, a free newspaper on his lap. She headed for him and as he rose she collapsed into his arms.

  “I’m a horrible, horrible person, Dermot. He hates my guts and he’s right – I’m a shadow of a woman. I’ve been so selfish I hate myself!” She sobbed on his shoulder as he rocked her.

  “You are not the horrible person.” Dermot’s head flicked back to look at the hospital doors and he stared at them for a moment before saying, “Come on, let’s go back to mine. Big J texted me to say he’d given you the afternoon off. I can ask Lorna to take the hacks out. Come on.”

  Sandra let him lead her to his pick-up truck in the multi-storey car park. As he leaned across and strapped her seatbelt down, her tears subsided. She thanked him again as her chest still heaved.

  “Seriously, Dermot, you don’t need all this. I can manage. Just drop me back.”

  “No way.” He stopped and gestured to let a wheelchair-user pass and then drove on. Dermot glanced at her. She was staring out the window, lost in her own world. So she hadn’t noticed the lounge girl in the red dress, thank God. Dermot sighed to himself as he headed for the main Knocknoly road.

  Chapter 15

  The Law Top had been busier than Cara could ever remember as she ushered the last of the punters out. “Goodnight now, mind how you go!” She closed the door behind them and pushed up the huge old-fashioned rusting bolt. She leaned her back against the cold door.

  The current court case sounded completely horrific. The people from the earlier lunch table had stayed late into the night drowning their sorrows as the case had been adjourned. From what she could make out a relative of the French lady was the victim of the rape and she was the main witness. The accused was pleading not guilty. It was awful. Cara wondered where the poor girl was. Her life could never be the same again. It was too dreadful a thought and she shuddered.

  Cara had been due to finish at nine but it was too manic so she’d stayed on. She texted Esther to tell her that she was now working late and she would pop her meal in the microwave later. Esther never minded when this happened and it happened all too frequently Cara thought now as she fished her mobile out of her bag.

  Eleven missed calls. Her heart started to race. “Oh God – Esther!” Had something happened to her? She pushed the button to retrieve information on the callers. It was Alex. All eleven calls. She heaved a sigh of relief that it wasn’t her mother. But why would he have called her eleven times? What the hell was wrong? He must have had a scare on the flight. She quickly dialled her message minder as Steve pushed a huge glass of red wine in front of her and lay out on the bench opposite her in the now blissfully quiet bar.

  “Thanks, lovey.” She smiled at him, pressing her ear tightly to
the phone as she listened. No new messages. She hurriedly dialled Alex’s number. She heard it connect but not on a different country ring tone. Her heart continued to race? Was he okay? He must have had to return home early for some reason.

  “Where the hell have you been, Cara?” he answered in such a strange voice that she laughed at first, thinking he was joking.

  “Aah, man – phew, I got a fright! Are you okay?” Silence. “Oh what a night, Alex! Is everything okay? You gave me a scare when I saw all the missed calls. What’s happened?” She picked up her glass and swirled it, warming the red liquid in her palm. Steve knew she hated cold red yet he always served it to her.

  “Where are you, Cara?” Alex asked.

  She put the glass back down. “I’m in work, Alex, where are you?”

  “Why are you in work still, Cara?”

  “Ah, we had a mad busy day here – it was non-stop – so I stayed on. Jeez, Alex, you frightened the daylights out of me when I saw eleven missed calls!”

  Steve made a snorty laugh now and Cara glared at him and covered the mouthpiece.

  “I told you I would call you at ten o’clock. What are you doing, Cara? I mean what the fuck is going on in that pub?”

  Steve leaned up on his elbow now, chin resting on his hand but ears pricked like some kind of sausage dog. He was obviously able to hear Alex’s loud voice. He opened his eyes wide and Cara blushed.

  She coughed. “Just work, it’s been mad – em, so how are things in sunny Dubai then?” He didn’t answer but she could hear his breath hot and heavy. It sounded like he was pacing around a room.

  “Don’t take me for a fool, Cara Byrne. I’m no fucking fool!”

  She really needed to get up and walk away from Steve and the others but if she did it would look bad.

  “Never!” She tried her best to laugh.

  “What are you laughing at? Are you laughing at me? Me? Is this some sort of fucking joke to you? Are you fucking laughing at me?”

  She had to hang up now. She couldn’t do this in front of everyone. It was obvious now she was having a row with her boyfriend on the phone. She pressed ‘end call’ but kept talking. “Are you messing, you loony?” She laughed loud now and held the laughter for moments. Just as well she’d pushed the silent button on the side of her phone as it was lighting up now, no doubt with Alex calling back. She turned her back on the bench where Steve was. “Okay, listen, I have to go . . . I do too . . . stay off the vino, ya nutter . . . okay, bye, love you too!” She threw the phone into her bag and with slightly shaky hands picked up her wine. He palms were so sweaty now she’d warm her wine in seconds.

  “Everything okay?” Steve sat up and looked at her.

  “Fine, yeah.”

  “Was that Top Gun himself? Is he Maverick or Goose?”

  “His name is Alex, Steve, and yes it was. He’s just a bit of a messer – been on the wine, I think.” She painted on a huge smile.

  Steve looked at her for a few seconds too long and then shook his head. “Another?” he asked, nodding at her empty wineglass. She had knocked it back.

  “Why not?” She handed the glass to him and as he made his way over to the bar she grabbed her phone out of her bag again.

  “Want crisps, Cara?” Aoife asked her.

  “Hmm, yeah, cheese and onion, please, Aoife – the black Manhattan packet.” She had another six missed calls. What was he doing? He was beginning to scare her. She checked her watch again and dialled Esther – she’d be finished watching Downton Abbey now.

  “Hi, love, I’m on the land line to Ann here. Can I help you?” Esther’s phone manner was most odd.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry – hope you got my text about how manic we got – I just couldn’t leave. I’m starving so I won’t be too long but I might have a couple of drinks to clear my head of work. I’ll just heat up my meal when I get home. That okay, Mam?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  What was it with everyone tonight? Esther never questioned Cara’s time keeping. If she was home she was home, if she wasn’t she wasn’t, but Cara liked to check in with her anyway, especially since she’d specifically asked Esther to cook for her tonight.

  “You okay, Mam? You sound a bit weird?”

  “I’m grand, love. I have to go – see you in a while so if I’m still up.”

  “I could just head back to mine?” Cara tested her.

  “Ahh no, sure I’ve a lovely dinner for you and I got the making of a fry for us for the morning, take your time and have a drink with Steve and the rest. Goodbye, Cara dear.”

  Cara turned off her phone and stuffed it into her bag. Jesus, Alex had been mad. She didn’t even know if he was home or not. If he was home he’d be expecting her back but she’d promised Esther now. She rubbed her eyes then dragged her hands down both cheeks. She was beyond shocked at his reaction. A bit of healthy jealousy was one thing but that had been close to insane behaviour.

  “So how’s the new place, you lucky sod?” Aoife asked. “Sandymount, aah! I just love Sandymount Green. I used to work in a pub there and loved lazing in that green on my break. Then Borza would open and the smell of freshly cooking chipper chips was amazeballs!” She threw a bundle of assorted crisp packets onto the table, kicked off her red Adidas runners and curled her slim legs up under her.

  “It’s great, Aoife, thanks – yes, it’s a really nice place to live.” Cara copied her and curled up on the big bench now too.

  “Wow, that was all so quick, wasn’t it, though?” Aoife asked and gently drank the creamy head from her pint of Guinness.

  Cara looked at her youthful face. “I suppose, well, really . . . I mean we met and a few months later we moved in together but it’s what we both really want. We aren’t twenty-something after all. Time isn’t on our side.” She was protesting a bit too much, she knew, but Aoife just nodded.

  “Must be nice with him being a pilot and all – you get to travel all over the world.”

  “No, not really. I mean the last thing he wants to do is get on a plane when he’s off duty, you know.”

  “Ha, yeah, a busman’s holiday, wha’?” Steve chipped in as he popped open a bag of salt and vinegar Tayto crisps and began to crunch them very loudly.

  Steve did not like Alex, Cara knew that now for sure. On the few occasions Alex had come into the bar to collect Cara he had been very quiet. The first time Steve had extended his hand to shake and Alex had reached for his ringing phone in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and ignored the other man completely. Steve had thrown the red tea towel over his shoulder and turned his back.

  “Who wants to play getting completely sloshed?” Steve asked now as he licked his fingers and Cara sensed he was aware of her sudden discomfort.

  “I’m on!” Aoife squealed.

  Aoife squealed a lot. An awful lot. Cara found it seriously annoying. Aoife also had a little crush on Steve, Cara observed. With her pixie peroxide-blonde haircut and numerous facial and body piercings, Cara didn’t think she was Steve’s type. But what did she know?

  Steve hopped up and grabbed the bottle of red wine off the bar counter along with the sambuca bottle and removed his lighter from his pocket.

  “Okay, let’s play getting shitfaced, my tired overworked little bar friends!”

  Anto and Phillip, two part-time barmen came over with glasses and joined the little group. Steve lit a round of flaming sambucas and they all began to drink.

  “I really shouldn’t!” Cara protested as a fiery shot was pushed into her hand to the chorus of “Drink! Drink! Drink!” . . . so she did . . . otherwise she’d have been burnt. She blew out the blue flame and knocked the bitter-sweet drink back in one go. It had been ages since she’d had a bit of a blow-out. Since just before she’d met Alex, in fact.

  The conversation flowed and Steve got up and put The Best of Duran Duran on the surround – so that was it: Cara was off. Up on the tables she let her red hair fall loose and drank her wine as she swayed to Simon Le Bon’s wonderful voice,
the row with Alex not forgotten but parked for now.

  Later, as she headed for the toilets, Aoife followed her.

  Cara locked her cubicle door.

  “Cara?” Aoife knocked gently. “Do you think Steve could fancy me?”

  Cara smiled inside her cubicle, curling the white toilet roll up in her hands. “I don’t know, Aoife, to be honest, but you really like him, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Aoife whispered very loudly. She must have moved to the mirror now as her voice was further away.

  Cara flushed the toilet and went out.

  “I’m kinda only like mad about him, Cara. I think he’s fab.”

  As Cara washed her hands she watched Aoife put water on her hands and spike up her hair in the mirror.

  “However, I don’t want to make a move in case I’m wrong as I need this job and that would just be too awkward. Would you have a sly word with him for me? I know how close you two are.” Aoife scrubbed at her teeth in the mirror with her index finger and then smiled broadly at herself. “Were ye ever, like, together?” She turned to Cara.

  “No! Never. God, no, Aoife. Sure, okay, I will have a quiet word with him, maybe before I hit the road, yeah?” Cara laughed.

  “You are a Star Bar. A right good Creme Egg!” Aoife grinned at her.

  They made their way back to the bar and Cara took her seat as the music became a bit more hard core. Suddenly she wanted to hit the road. It was past one in the morning and she was wall-fallen. She gathered up her bag and pushed her feet into her runners which barely fit at this late hour.

  “Steve, I’m gonna hit the road!” she called to him. He was behind the bar again, this time putting money in the till for the wine and sambuca after the whip-around.

  “Ah no, are ya?” He looked disappointed.

  Aoife winked at her.

  “Oh, yeah.” Cara nodded at Aoife. “Sorry, Steve, would you walk me out, please?” She pulled on her fleece and then her jacket and said her goodbyes. She would not be missed by everyone judging by the air-guitar playing going on now between Anto and Phillip.