This Child of Mine

by Sinéad Moriarty

  ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone. I just need to stay in bed.’

  Anna frowned. ‘You seem quite bad. Maybe I should take you to the doctor.’

  ‘Stop fussing. I’m not a child. Go to work. I’ll be fine,’ Sophie snapped.

  ‘Well, you don’t seem fine. I’ll go to work later. I don’t want to leave you like this.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Mum, just go. I don’t need you.’

  Anna flinched. ‘All right, I’ll leave you for now, but if you feel any worse, call me. I’ll come back at lunchtime to check on you, and I’ll ask Nancy to pop over in an hour.’

  ‘No!’ Sophie sat up in her bed. ‘Holly’s coming over later. I don’t need her mother coming too. If I feel worse, I’ll call you. Now just go, I want to sleep.’

  ‘Can I get you anything before I go? Some paracetamol or a cup of tea?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is it a green day? Are you feeling pain?’

  Silence.

  Anna bent down to kiss her unusually grumpy daughter, but Sophie’s head was tucked under the duvet. Anna left her alone and headed to work. She felt uneasy. Her ulcer began to throb. Sophie was rarely sick and she didn’t like leaving her alone. She decided to pop in to Nancy.

  Her friend answered the door in her dressing-gown, hair askew, and ushered Anna into the kitchen. ‘Please ignore the mess, I’ll get around to cleaning it some day. Coffee?’

  Anna propped herself against the kitchen counter. ‘No, thanks. Look, Nancy, I’m sorry to call in so early but I’m worried about Sophie.’

  Nancy smiled. ‘Anna, you’re always worried about Sophie. You’re going to worry yourself into an early grave.’

  Anna threw her hands into the air. ‘Guilty as charged. I can’t help it. Anyway, this morning she said she wasn’t feeling well and she seems very out of sorts.’

  ‘She’s probably just tired after the exams.’

  ‘I think it’s more than that,’ Anna worried. ‘She looked very pale. I offered to take her to the doctor but she said she just wanted to sleep. She mentioned that Holly is due over this morning. Could you ask her to call me if she thinks Sophie’s getting worse?’

  Nancy patted Anna’s arm. ‘No problem at all. I’ll talk to Holly when she wakes up and I’ll check on Sophie myself later. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure she’s OK.’

  ‘Thanks, Nancy. Poor Sophie, the last thing she needs is to get sick now, just after finishing her exams when she should be relaxing and enjoying herself.’

  ‘I know, and she worked so hard, unlike my jack-in-the-box who couldn’t sit at her desk for more than ten minutes.’

  Anna smiled. ‘Holly will be fine. She’s a great girl.’

  Nancy put her coffee on the table. ‘Holly needs to channel her energy into more than music and boys. She’s totally distracted. I found her application form for a summer job in the pizzeria and she had written, “Am great with the pubic.” Honestly, Anna, she’s a ditz.’

  Anna laughed. ‘She’s just a normal teenager. Their attention to detail is never good. She’s a sweetheart and she’s been such a wonderful friend to Sophie. Honestly, moving in next door to you guys was a blessing.’

  ‘We did better out of it. Sophie’s such a steadying influence on Holly. Thank God my scatterbrained daughter at least had the sense to befriend someone much more responsible and levelheaded than she is.’

  ‘They complement each other. Sometimes I worry that Sophie’s old beyond her years. I think it’s a bit quiet for her with just the two of us. She loves the hustle and bustle in this house.’

  ‘She must be mad – the kids are so boisterous! Sophie is so calm and polite, not like my unruly lot. You’ve done an amazing job, Anna. You should write a manual on child-rearing – us demented mothers need tips.’

  Anna loved hearing Nancy say this. It made everything worthwhile to know that people thought she had done a good job in raising Sophie. ‘I was blessed with Sophie. I’ve been so lucky.’

  Nancy put her hand on Anna’s shoulder. ‘Sophie’s the lucky one. I spend all day shouting at my children. I don’t think I ever speak to them in a normal tone. You’re always so poised and together. In all these years I’ve never heard you shout at her or lose your cool. I don’t know how you do it. No wonder you became the headmistress at St Catherine’s so quickly – you’re the only person I know who could run a school and not be on Prozac!’

  Anna roared laughing. ‘Believe me, there are days when I consider taking it. You need to stop putting yourself down! You’re a brilliant mother. I have one child to look after, you have three. There’s a world of difference. Your children are lovely, and Holly is the sister Sophie never had.’

  ‘You’re a good liar and a good neighbour for not reporting me to Social Services for verbally abusing my children on an hourly basis.’

  Suddenly they heard a huge bang as Gordon came flying through the kitchen door backwards, followed by his sister Jessie, who dived on top of him and began to thump him.

  Anna jumped out of the way while Nancy grabbed fifteen-year-old Jessie by the ponytail. ‘STOP TRYING TO STRANGLE YOUR LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WITCH!’

  ‘He took my phone and read my texts.’ Jessie kicked out at him.

  ‘For God’s sake, ignore him,’ Nancy said.

  ‘You fancy Oliver, you fancy Oliver,’ Gordon taunted.

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re a loser with a face full of zits,’ Jessie shrieked.

  ‘You’re a – a LESBIAN!’ Gordon bellowed.

  ‘If I like Oliver, I’m hardly a lesbian, you idiot,’ Jessie sneered.

  Gordon’s face turned bright red. ‘WANKER!’

  Nancy looked at Anna. ‘I imagine breakfast in your house doesn’t normally include physical violence and verbal abuse?’

  The door flew open again. ‘For God’s sake, I’m trying to sleep.’ Holly stomped into the kitchen.

  ‘Hello, Holly,’ Anna said.

  Holly swivelled around and blushed. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said, looking down at the floor.

  ‘I was just telling your mum that Sophie’s not feeling well and I was a bit worried about her. Would you mind keeping an eye on her today?’

  Holly crossed her arms. ‘I was planning on spending the day with her anyway. We have lots to talk about.’

  ‘OK. Well, call me if she seems worse or if she wants to go to the doctor or anything.’

  ‘Of course she will, won’t you, Holly?’ Nancy prodded her daughter. Holly nodded without enthusiasm. ‘Right, then. Anna, go to work and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll call you later to give you an update on Sophie.’ Nancy walked her to the door.

  ‘Dickhead!’ they heard Jessie shout at her brother.

  ‘I’m going to rip your head off and your leg and – and – and –’ Gordon stalled.

  ‘Feed them to hungry sharks?’ Holly suggested.

  ‘Yeah! Yeah, that!’ Gordon jumped up and down.

  Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘’Bye then, Anna. I hope you have a nice civilized day, not like mine here at the human zoo.’

  Anna smiled to herself as she climbed into her car. She loved Nancy but she didn’t know how she put up with the madness. Nancy’s house was chaotic, yet she was always so good-humoured and welcoming.

  Nancy was the first person Anna had met when she moved to London. She had called over with Holly, an apple tart and a bottle of wine on the day Anna and Sophie, her daughter’s new name, had arrived. Nancy had made moving to London easy. She had embraced Anna and Sophie and introduced them to everyone. She had lent Anna beakers and nappies and pyjamas for their first night because Sophie’s things had ‘got lost’ in the move from Dublin. She had taken Anna under her wing and shown her all the best parks and playgrounds, the best shops, restaurants and playgroups to go to and, even better, she had offered to look after Sophie while Anna was at work. She had been her child-minder for that first year until Sophie had gone to kindergarten. It was there that Holly and Sophie had formed their lifelong friendship.
r />   When Nancy eventually asked about Sophie’s dad, Anna had said that she was the result of a very brief fling with an American who had been passing through Dublin and that she had never seen him again. Nancy had accepted the story and never asked about him after that.

  Anna had taught Holly and Sophie together when they came to St Catherine’s at five years of age and she had watched Holly’s sister Jessie and brother Gordon grow up on her doorstep. They were a lively bunch, and she was incredibly fond of them all. They were her surrogate family. Kevin, Nancy’s husband, was always on hand to help when Anna’s washing-machine broke down or her pipes leaked. He said he liked coming over to help: it got him out of the madhouse he lived in. Anna was always very careful not to overstep the mark. She was friendly to Kevin, but never overly so. She didn’t want Nancy to worry that she was flirting with him or trying to steal him, although Nancy never seemed to feel threatened by Anna’s being single. But lots of women had been. Anna had seen the way some of the mothers glared at her when she talked to their husbands. A single woman was considered dangerous. Some mothers had confronted her about her status: why was she single? Where was Sophie’s father? Why did she never date? Anna was shocked at first that people could be so assertive. But she had learned to deal with it. She said her life was full enough with raising a daughter and running a large school. She had no time for men, no time for relationships. She knew there had been rumours that she was a lesbian. Some people – a minority, thankfully – seemed to find it very odd that she had no man in her life.

  She had gone on a few dates, but never followed up. She knew that she couldn’t be in a relationship. She wanted Sophie all to herself. There was no way she was going to let some man walk into their lives and become Sophie’s ‘dad’. She had made a pact with God: if I get to keep this child, I will devote my life to her. And that had been that. It was unbreakable and had been surprisingly easy to keep. Anna’s life was busy and full and she was content. And as for sex … Well, that was where Joe came in. When he visited, and Sophie was fast asleep, he would sneak into Anna’s room. But she always asked him to leave before dawn. She didn’t want Sophie to think anything was going on, to know that her mother was sleeping with Joe. He was their friend, their buddy, not Anna’s occasional lover.

  Anna had resisted Joe at first, but when he had told her his marriage was over in all but name, she had given in. That had been six years after she’d run away. Six years after she’d found Sophie. Six years without the touch of a man. Six years without love, six years without looking back, six years of forgetting her past, six years of only looking forward.

  Joe had insisted on coming to see her. She had put him off for all those years, only speaking to him on the phone, but then he’d said he was coming to a conference in London and was going to track her down if she refused to meet him. So she did and she told him she had a daughter now. A little girl had come into her life soon after she’d arrived … She explained to Joe that initially she had offered to foster a neglected child, but when the child’s mother had continued to drink and had shown no interest in raising her, Anna had adopted the little girl. However, Anna told Joe that she didn’t want Sophie ever to know about her awful mother, so she had told her she was the result of a fling with an American man. She wanted Sophie to feel secure and loved and didn’t want her traumatized by knowing her birth mother had chosen drink over her own flesh and blood.

  Joe had been taken aback by her reasoning, and told her so. He argued that lying about Sophie’s origins was a bad idea. ‘Lies always come back to haunt you,’ he reminded her. He believed that Sophie deserved to know the truth. Anna was furious, and threatened to sever all ties with him if he went against her on this. It was her decision to protect Sophie from the awful truth and she was sticking to her story – and Joe would have to as well, if he wanted any place in her life. She demanded that Joe never mention her marriage to Barry or Hope or anything else about her past life in Ireland. As far as Sophie was concerned, none of that had ever happened: she was Anna’s first and only child.

  ‘You can’t erase your past,’ Joe had insisted. ‘She’ll find out some day and she’ll be so angry with you for lying.’

  Anna was fiercely determined. ‘Joe, you have a choice here: you agree to stick to my story or I can’t ever see you again. It’s as simple as that.’

  Joe realized she was completely serious about it, so he had reluctantly agreed to keep her secrets. In his heart he knew that what Anna was doing would lead to hurt, but he loved her, and he couldn’t bring himself to break off his relationship with her. So he had always done things her way.

  Joe had asked to meet Sophie, but Anna said no. Not yet. Not now. The next time. So he had come back six months later and met Sophie. At first she had been shy with him. He was the only friend from Ireland, from her past, her mother had ever introduced her to. But Joe had a way with people, a natural ease that had served him well as a GP. He’d soon had Sophie eating out of his hand.

  But Anna didn’t want Joe in her house, meeting Nancy and other local parents. She didn’t want questions asked, rumours started, so they had agreed to go on holidays together every year. Sometimes Joe brought Mark along. Sophie loved it when he came: he was fun to have around. Things had worked out, life was good, Anna was happy. Joe had stuck to their agreement and never mentioned Anna’s marriage or Hope.

  Over time, Anna accepted that she could trust Joe, that he would never betray her. He could see how happy Sophie was and he’d never do anything to ruin that. Anna’s secrets were safe.

  Nancy phoned to say that she had checked on Sophie, who seemed better. She was up and about, looking pale and tired but not unwell. Anna was relieved.

  When she got home, Sophie was in bed. ‘Hello, darling, how are you feeling now?’

  Sophie turned away from her. ‘Not good.’

  Anna went over and tried to feel her daughter’s forehead, but Sophie buried her head in the pillow. ‘Will you come down for dinner? I’m making your favourite tonight, lasagne.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Come on, Sophie, you have to eat something.’

  ‘I said I’m not hungry.’

  ‘I’m worried about you, pet. What’s the matter? Do you feel sick? Nancy said there’s a tummy bug going around.’

  ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Sophie, has something happened? Are you unwell or are you worried about something?’

  ‘I’m just tired, OK? I’m not hungry, and I don’t have a temperature or a stomach bug. I just want to be left alone so I can sleep.’

  ‘It’s not like you to be so upset. I think I should call a doctor.’

  Sophie sat up. Through gritted teeth, she barked, ‘All – I – want – you – to – do – is – go – away – so – I – can – sleep!’

  Anna stood up, feeling hurt and rejected. Sophie was never like this. ‘All right, I’ll leave you. I’ll make the lasagne in case you feel hungry later. If you need me at all during the night, wake me up.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ Anna closed the door gently and felt her stomach burning. She stumbled into her bedroom. The searing pain of her ulcer was making her dizzy.

  15.

  Laura

  Killduf, June 2011

  Sarah McLachlan’s haunting voice filled the studio. Laura swayed to the music as she painted. She let herself go, escape, disappear into the moment. It felt wonderful. She felt lighter, cleaner, freer. She savoured the moment of peace.

  Joan’s birthday dinner had thrown her into a black hole. For days her head had been awash with orange for pain, white for shame and, most of all, pink for guilt. She had spent seventeen years seeing mostly pink and orange. Whenever Joan looked at her, all Laura could see in her eyes was anger and resentment. Her mother hated her. Laura understood it: she hated herself. She had broken her mother’s heart.

  Every day when she woke up, Laura cried for her lost baby. For the child she had let go. The child she
had neglected. She’d stare at pictures of Jody and ache to hold her, to feel her soft cheek against her own. She yearned, more than anything in the world, to be a good mother to her, to show Jody that she did love her and to beg her forgiveness. But she was gone, and Laura would never be able to tell her how sorry she was. Why, oh, why had she not cherished every second? She’d been so stupid, so immature and selfish. She despised her teenage self.

  There was a knock on the door. ‘Mornin’, darlin’. Not disturbing you, am I?’ Lexie came in, wearing a very short, plunging black silk négligée. She was carrying two cups of coffee and a bundle of letters. ‘The postman come and delivered these for you.’

  ‘Lexie! You’re not supposed to be opening the door. You’re in hiding, remember? Frank told me yesterday that I was to keep you away from all other humans until the book is finished. How did you sleep? Is your bedroom OK? You’re probably used to five-star hotels. It’s pretty simple here in the country.’

  ‘Laura darlin’, I grew up in a two-bedroom flat with five brothers and sisters. This is luxury. The only problem here is nature. All them birds twittering and cows mooing – such a racket. I woke up early. You wouldn’t normally see me before eleven. Anyways, I seen the postman coming and I fancied some company, so I invited him in for a cuppa.’

  Laura grinned. ‘Did you have a dressing-gown on?’

  ‘No, just this. I did catch him staring at my boobs a lot.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt. Poor Sean hasn’t seen the likes of those in his life. This is a quiet country village, Lexie. We don’t get glamorous women like you passing through.’

  ‘Well, he was very nice. He told me he’s been married to his wife for forty years. Imagine that!’

  ‘It’s good going.’

  ‘Me and Dougie only lasted four. Bit sad, innit?’

  Laura rinsed her paintbrush. ‘It’s hard to stay with a man who’s being unfaithful.’

  ‘I know, but we did have some good laughs.’

  ‘Did the postman ask you what you were doing here?’