The Other Side of Wonderful

by Caroline Grace-Cassidy

  Neil hadn’t spoken to her again about how he felt about the IVF. He refused to get into a conversation about it so she had gone ahead and made the appointment.

  He returned very soon after and handed the cup to the nurse. He was bright red, his face all blotchy, and he looked really uncomfortable as though he was willing the ground to open up and devour him.

  “You don’t need me any more, Sandra, so I’m going.” He zipped up his black bomber jacket.

  She could not believe this. “Are you joking?”

  “No, there’s a massive problem at work,” he muttered, casting a glance around the waiting room – no one met his eye but he knew they were all listening. “Ben Ashmore, the contractor, is reported to have done a legger to Spain. If it’s true and he has, we are completely screwed. He owes me over thirty thousand euro and if that’s gone I don’t know what I will do. I won’t be able to afford to pay for that house, never mind a plastic baby.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she hissed. God, he was getting on her last nerve. She was the one who had to go through all the invasive procedures.

  “You know, your test-tube baby or whatever it is, whatever it will be – more than likely nothing but a period.” His voice had risen and glances were thrown in their direction.

  The nurse coughed loudly. “I will give you two a moment but kindly keep your voices down,” she said to the pair of them and backed away.

  “It’s not a test-tube baby, Neil, it’s IVF,” Sandra said, making a great effort to speak calmly. “And it’s our only chance to have a baby of our own.”

  “But it’s not natural. We can’t have children and if I am perfectly honest with you I don’t agree with all this IVF – it’s going against God’s plan, it’s totally unnatural. I tried to tell you how I felt about all this but you never listened. Soon man will invent a womb and women will no longer be needed to produce babies. Do you think that will be natural? It’s all about money, medics making money!”

  Sandra couldn’t believe he was ranting like this in the waiting room. Other couples buried their heads in old dog-eared magazines while one girl looked up and Sandra knew she was biting her tongue.

  “Just go right now!” Sandra hissed at him.

  He didn’t need to be told twice. She watched him go as the nurse returned and she was brought into the treatment room.

  She returned days later for the transfer. Alone. After, the nurse called a taxi for her. They were confident this time. She was too.

  She lay on the couch after she got home from the hospital. When Neil came in she got a shock when she saw his face. “What is it?” she managed even though she was fuming with him.

  “It’s my worst nightmare. Ben Ashmore is gone. The site is closed down and all the money owed to me and future work is gone. I have nothing.” He was devastated. He slumped onto the armchair. “Why on earth did you make me buy this place?”

  She couldn’t get up, she had been told not to. She wanted to comfort him but she knew she couldn’t get up. “He can’t just do that, Neil, he can’t just leave us high and dry owing us thirty thousand euro! There must be a way to get the police involved?” She craned her head to try and make eye contact with him.

  “There’s not. He can and he did. Jesus Christ, Sandra, are you just going to lie there? Are you not even going to get up off the couch and come over to me?” He looked totally shocked.

  “It’s not that, Neil – I do want to, but I can’t – they told me at the clinic not to –, it’s best if I –”

  He got up as she was mid-sentence. “I don’t want to know, I honestly have no interest. I’m going to bed. Don’t disturb me.” He slowly dragged his tired feet across the room.

  “I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking!” she called sarcastically after him even though she knew she shouldn’t.

  ***

  Sandra re-played the events of that evening clearly in her mind as she made her way into the hospital. The “I’m fine, by the way” conversation was probably the last one they had ever had of any meaning. She hadn’t moved off the couch except to make tea and toast and pee. Neil passed her by like he couldn’t even see her lying there. He never asked her a question. If she was pregnant it would shake him out of it, she knew that.

  She got up and dressed early two weeks later and drove to the chemist outside the village. She bought three pregnancy tests. She tucked them in the glove compartment in the car as she drove past the Moritz. The timing was excellent as the hotel was undergoing renovations so it was closed temporarily. It would reopen next week and she would be back to work full time.

  She parked the car and headed straight into the house and up to the bathroom. Neil was out. She opened the first box and pulled the plastic off the white stick. She grabbed her bag and pulled the water bottle out and drank loads. Then she stood and looked at herself in the mirror.

  “Please, God, please, please let me be pregnant. Let us be pregnant.” She slowly unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down her pants. She sat with the stick between her legs and peed, taking care not to wet the window of the stick. She pulled the stick out and laid it on the side of the bath as she prayed and prayed over and over again. Her hands clasped so tightly together her veins were popping. She couldn’t look. She didn’t want to look. She wanted to save this feeling. She might be pregnant. There was every chance she was growing her baby inside her right this minute.

  Then she grabbed for the stick. She stared hard at the little window. It was there. A very faint blue line but a blue line nonetheless.

  “Jesus Christ!” She jumped up and with her knickers and jeans around her ankles as she shuffled across the bathroom to grab another test. Her heart was racing. “Oh dear God, oh dear God, please, give me another one!” She drank more water, sat back on the toilet and gritted her teeth as she pushed her bladder and stuck another stick under her. Again when she was done she left it on the side of the bath. She stood up now very slowly and fixed herself. Slowly she pulled up her pants and buttoned her jeans. She thought her heart might jump out of her chest. She washed her hands thoroughly before picking the stick back up. She looked down. It was there again. The wonderful, exciting, incredible, fantastic, surreal, mind-blowing, out-of-this-world amazing little blue line.

  “Yes! Yes! Yessssssss!” She punched the air and danced a gentle dance around the bathroom. “Oh thank you, God, thank you, Mary, thank you, Jesus!” she shouted, wet tears streaming down her cheeks.

  She sat now on the edge of the bed and tried to calm herself. It wouldn’t be good for the baby, all this hyper stuff. The baby. She lay down gently. She said the words out loud now: “The baby. My baby.” She stared at the ceiling without its light fitting for ages. It had all been worth it, every last miserable step of the process. She felt wonderful. She felt at ease and completely happy. She felt like a proper woman. A proper wife. Finally she would be a mammy. At long, long last. She smiled at the image of her baby growing inside her. Then she got up slowly and searched for her phone. She dialled Neil’s number quickly with panting breath again now.

  “What, Sandra?” he answered on the last ring.

  “Neil! I think we’re pregnant. I mean, I have done two tests and they are both positive – we are – we are pregnant!” If she smiled any wider she was afraid her teeth would fall out.

  “Oh . . . seriously, Sandra? That’s really . . . wow . . . amazing . . . well done, you. I don’t know what to say to you really . . . now. I need to tell you something though . . . I’m . . . oh look, Sandra, I’ll come home right now.”

  She felt it there and then. Felt it trickle down through her and flow into her pants. The oh-too-familiar feeling of an unwanted period. It couldn’t be, she’d just done two tests. Two positive tests. She reefed down her jeans and pants and there it was. The red stain. The red stain. The red stain. She hung up and threw the phone onto the bed and grabbed her car keys.

  She drove to the clinic in Dublin in a record-breaking fifty-three minutes. She parked
at the doors knowing well she would be clamped.

  “You need an appointment, Mrs Darragh,” the receptionist told her quietly. She was hysterical.

  “I need to see my consultant now!” she screamed at the poor unfortunate girl. “I am bleeding! Do you hear me? I am bleeding!”

  “Okay, please calm down and take a seat, we will do what we can as soon as we can. It really won’t help you if you become hysterical.” The receptionist handed her a plastic glass of water now.

  Sandra drank it and clutched her car keys and crossed her legs tightly as she sat. She was well aware that everyone was trying not to look at her. Don’t fall out, baby, please, stay, stay, stay with me. I need you. I love you. I want you so much. I just want to hold you and smell you. I can’t bear this, I just can’t lose you . . .” She rubbed and rubbed her stomach and then her tears turned into loud sobs as she was escorted to a treatment room by a lovely kind-faced nurse.

  “It’s okay, my love, try and relax if you can at all. We will do a quick blood test and the doctor will be in to take a look at you, okay?”

  As she held her arm out and the needle sank into her vein she knew in her heart it was over. Her pregnancy was gone.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” the nurse asked as she gently patted a small brown plaster down onto Sandra’s vein.

  “No. Thank you.”

  “As soon as we run the bloods we’ll be back, okay? Can I call anyone for you?” Sandra shook her head.

  It seemed like hours before her consultant came in with a chart in his hands. He smiled at her before putting on the ultrasound machine. She lifted her shirt and he squeezed the ice-cold jelly onto her tummy. She stared at the screen. Then he asked her to raise her knees, put her feet together and spread her legs.

  He put a camera up her now, and then he said softly, “Sandra, the bloods are negative, I’m afraid . . . just having a little look here . . .”

  A little black dot swam before her eyes as his machine picked it up.

  “There was a pregnancy, okay, but I’m afraid it’s no longer viable. I am so sorry.” He removed the camera and put the scanner back into its holder with a final click and handed her some rough grey tissue paper to wipe her tummy. “I will need you to come in for a D and C, okay?” He helped her up by her elbow.

  “Yeah, okay.” She fixed her top into her jeans. “I wonder what it was?” she asked.

  “Too early to tell,” he answered gently.

  “I think it was a boy. I’m going to call him Neil Junior.”

  “Can we call anyone to take you home?” He opened the door for her.

  “No, it’s okay, my husband’s meeting me outside,” she lied.

  She left the building. She wasn’t clamped. Now that was a miracle.

  “False alarm,” she managed when she got home and he was standing at the door.

  “False alarm?” He looked at her like she was crazy.

  “Yeah,” she said simply as she went inside.

  “What do you mean false alarm? I’ve been ringing and ringing your phone! Are you pregnant or not?” He glared at her.

  She really didn’t need this. “No, I’m not,” she told him, then she made her way up the stairs.

  “That’s it? You ring me and tell me you’re pregnant and I rush home. I can’t find you anywhere, you won’t answer your phone, and now you tell me you’re not? You need help, Sandra, you know that? You’re losing your marbles. Don’t call me again!” He left, slamming the door behind him.

  She crawled into the spare bed and she cried and cried and cried herself to sleep.

  ***

  She supposed she hadn’t noticed the marriage dissolve away as she had been so caught up in her own world. She had thought that it would blow over. But it didn’t. Look where she was now. As she entered the hospital ward she saw his brother Tom sitting by the bed.

  “There she is: Wife of the Year!” he scowled at her.

  Neil didn’t bother to say hello to her.

  The young dark nurse from yesterday was changing the water in the brown hospital vase. Fresh flowers, Sandra noticed. Who had brought those?

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  She looked at Tom and he held her stare.

  “Can you explain why Mr Kilroy, my bank manager, has called me to say you are taking over our mortgage, Tom?” She kept her dignity and didn’t yell as she sat on the opposite side of the bed on the white plastic seat. She even laid a brown-paper bag of Louise’s white chocolate-chip muffins that Neil so loved on his locker.

  “Cheers,” came his monosyllabic reply.

  “I can’t stay long because we have a wedding up above in the hotel and I have to get back to reception. Alice is covering for me for the hour. What is going on?” She looked from one to the other.

  “Okay, Sandra, Neil called me in here today for a reason. I drove down this morning.” He turned to the nurse. “If you don’t mind, sweetheart, this is private business.” He pointed to the curtain and she left, pulling it across behind her.

  The guy in the next bed called out for the nurse but she didn’t come back.

  Tom turned back to Sandra. “Basically I am going to buy the house off ye – well, off the bank, I suppose. The shop’s doing really well and I always wanted a place back home in Knocknoly for summer holidays and all that. He can’t afford it and you can’t afford it on your own. Simple really.” He shrugged. “Glad to help out. Generous of me, I know – but that’s the kind of guy I am.”

  Sandra looked at him, her jaw dropping to the floor. “Can he not speak?” She pointed at Neil. “Can you not speak any more, Neil?”

  “What can I do? I can’t afford it! Don’t you get it?” he hissed.

  Well, that was quick. Tom had wasted no time. Was it all going? House and marriage? Even though they were married she would never dream of taking a penny off Neil – it was his money as far as she was concerned. She knew she’d have to think differently if children were involved. But they weren’t. The horrible house would soon be gone but along with it her marriage and her life as she knew it.

  “Excuse me, can we have some privacy, please, Tom?” she asked.

  He ignored her. “He has no focking money, Sandra, he can’t keep up the mortgage repayments – you have the poor fella fleeced. Do you not understand the money is gone? His job is gone? All you care about is yourself. Seriously, all ye eejits who got stuck in Knocknoly, who never moved on, there’s something wrong with all of you! Inbreds!”

  They both stared at Neil now. He was obviously tanked up on pain medication by the blank look on his face.

  “Tom, that’s our home you’re talking about, and Neil is my husband.” She took Neil’s limp hand in hers.

  “Not any more, sweetheart.” Tom pulled a black-covered notebook from his back pocket.

  “What do you mean ‘not any more’? Neil, come on, I need you to speak to me here!” Sandra fought back the huge tears.

  “No waterworks, please.” Tom was flipping over pages.

  Sandra swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to say. Neil let go of her hand and turned his head on the pillow to face Tom. She felt like she no longer knew this man. It was insane. She was deeply saddened.

  Tom continued. “Look, Sandra, it’s settled. I’ve spoken to a contact at the bank and, as Neil is bankrupt, I’ll be able to do a deal with them – pay the mortgage off at a much reduced price. All going well in that regard, I should be able to pay you a lump sum to compensate your loss – say, one hundred thousand – enough to put a deposit on a place of your own – that is, if you don’t want to just move back in with your folks out on the hill.”

  “What?” she shouted. “Neil?” She took his hand again. “Say something, please! Is this what you want? Can we not at least talk in private for God’s sake?”

  He looked into her eyes now, his watery and weak. “What can I do, Sandra? I can’t afford it, we can’t afford it. And there’s something else I need to tell you. I don’t know how to tell
you but if I don’t I know someone who will.” He pulled himself up on his one good arm in the bed and lowered his voice. “I’m so sorry but I’ve been seeing someone else. I’m really sorry, Sandra, but I’m going to move in with her for a while. You reduced me to this. Sure you know our marriage is over.”

  She was completely lost for words. What a coward to tell her in front of his brother!

  “When it’s over it’s over, I suppose, what?” said Tom. “What’s that quiz show that used to be on the BBC? ‘They Think It’s All Over – it is now!’”

  “You prick! You horrible, mean-spirited selfish prick!” She stood up. “I hate you, Neil. I will never forgive you for this.” The tears were running down her face now. “I didn’t deserve this!”

  Tom butted in. “He’s not a prick – you’re a witch!”

  Sandra couldn’t believe this was happening. So just like that he was selling their home from under her and moving in with his mistress. “This marriage is definitely over, Neil Darragh, you got that much right!” She stared hard at him.

  “Why would you think that?” he answered sarcastically, staring back at her, making a pathetic face. “Don’t lay all the blame on me, because I won’t accept it. You changed the second we got married.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Neil, you had an affair a few months into the marriage! I forgave you!”

  “The chap is miserable with you,” Tom butted in again now.

  “Fuck off, Tom, you total tosser! It’s nothing to do with you!” Her eyes were blazing with temper now as she took in his ridiculous overly tight black-leather jacket with his pot belly bulging out and his purple skinny jeans along with his cream winkle-pickers. Tom might have an exclusive clientele and his shop Be Bang Be in the middle of Grafton Street in Dublin but he hadn’t a clue how to style himself. He looked like a packet of Opal Fruits had puked all over him. He had looked like a total tool at their wedding party in Hines, as Dermot had so rightly put it.

  “You wouldn’t wait, would you? Typical Knocknoly girl, so narrow-minded, get married at the drop of a hat! Sure ye had fuck-all in common! I tell you, my Scarlett would put manners on you!”