The Girl Who Lied

by Sue Fortin

  I take a step back. And another. ‘It’s not up to you.’ My eyes flick from one face to the other.

  ‘Think about it,’ says Dad. ‘It won’t work. You’re both too young and don’t know what you want in life. You can’t tie yourselves down at this age. Not to each other and not to a baby.’

  ‘Listen to your dad,’ says Mum. ‘He’s only thinking of you and your future.’

  I shake my head in disbelief. Mum is siding with Dad. He curses under his breath and when he speaks again the softness has gone and the dominating father I’m accustomed to returns.

  ‘You’re not keeping the baby and that’s that. I’ll hear no more about it.’ He adjusts his cardigan around his shoulders. ‘Now, I suggest, young lady, you go to your room and have a proper think about things. Tomorrow we’ll contact the Marshalls and get this mess sorted out.’

  We’re sitting in the Marshalls’ living room. Me, Mum and Dad. Mum and I are perched on the sofa and Dad is standing by the fireplace. Niall is sitting opposite me in a chair. His father is standing too. Diana is making tea and coffee. The silence that fills the room is oppressive and heavy. I feel as if the ceiling has an invisible force field that is slowly pushing down on top of us.

  I wanted Niall to sit by me. When he came into the room, I went to get up, to greet him. I wanted to show some sort of unity to our parents. But his body language told another story. He didn’t meet my eyes. We haven’t seen each other since Dad found out three days ago. Niall hasn’t been at school and I was so sick this morning, I couldn’t face going in. I’m not sure if it’s nerves or morning sickness. Mum seems to think a bit of both.

  Last night I wanted to ask her why she was siding with Dad. I went to say something but she just put her hand on my cheek and shook her head. She didn’t need to say she was sorry. I knew she was. She thought she was letting me down. She’s tried to talk to Dad – I’ve heard them for the past three nights arguing about it, but Dad won’t be moved.

  Today is my last chance to convince them they’re wrong and that Niall and I are right. That we can do this. We can have this baby and be happy. We will get our happy ever after.

  Diana comes in with a tray of cups. We’re all having tea except for Dad. He’s gone for a black coffee.

  I’m not sure what happens next. One minute we’re sitting stilled, awkwardly accepting our drinks and thanking Diana, and the next there is a full-blown conversation going on between both sets of parents about how they’re going to sort this mess out as quickly as possible, without any fuss: no one need ever know.

  ‘I can make the arrangements. I have professional contacts in London who deal with this sort of thing,’ Diana is saying.

  ‘And they’re discreet?’ asks Dad.

  ‘Absolutely,’ says Diana.

  ‘And safe?’ Mum asks.

  ‘Very. As much as you can be with these sorts of things,’ says Diana. ‘Erin’s not very far gone, there shouldn’t be any complications at all.’

  They carry on talking. I look over to Niall, who is still staring at his shoes. I want to cry. Why isn’t he defending us? I’ve tried to speak, but it seems only I can hear my voice. I am silent to the adults in the room. He looks up and I can tell he’s hurting too. I send a pleading message with my eyes. He nods. He mouths ‘It’s okay.’ He moves his hand slightly, as if very gently patting down the air. He’s telling me not to say anything. To go along with it. I send a questioning look this time. Again, the mimed words, ‘It’s okay,’ come back to me. I don’t understand. What’s okay?

  Is it okay what the parents have decided? Or is it okay, as in we’re going to be okay? I just don’t know.

  The next thirty minutes go by in a haze. It seems my fate and the fate of my unborn baby, their grandchild, has been decided. I am to go to London to have a termination. The sooner the better. And then we can all go back to our normal lives, Niall can go off to university and everyone will carry on as if nothing has happened.

  Niall texts me that night. He wants to meet in secret. I tell him he has to meet me at midnight, when I know Mum and Dad will be asleep and I can creep out. He’s to wait at the top of the road to The Spit. I will keep a watch out from my window.

  It seems forever before Mum and Dad go to bed. I lie still in mine, listening for the tell-tale sign of the light switch in the living room and the plug behind the TV being flicked to off. Dad doesn’t believe in leaving things on standby.

  By eleven-thirty they will both be in a deep sleep, so by the time it’s midnight, they won’t hear me at all. I put my dressing gown on over my clothes, in case I get caught in the hallway.

  At midnight I peer through my curtains. Niall’s car is parked under the streetlight.

  I make a stealthy exit and pad in my stocking feet down the metal staircase. I don’t put my shoes on until I’m at the end of the service road and then, keeping to the shadows, I run along the parade of shops, across the road and hurl myself into Niall’s car.

  We drive off out of the village, along to a deserted part of the tidal river. The light of the moon fans across the water as it laps its way down towards the sea, the pull of the outgoing tide leading the way.

  ‘You okay?’ asks Niall.

  I shrug. ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Look, I know what it must have looked like earlier at my mam’s, but I couldn’t say anything in front of them.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It would have caused a big argument again. Whatever we’ve decided, they’ve decided the complete opposite. Don’t think I didn’t try and get my parents to see it my way, because I did. I argued and argued, but they won’t budge. You know what my mam’s like.’

  ‘So, we’re letting them decide our future?’

  ‘No. No, we’re not.’ He pulls out a little blue book from his jacket pocket. I read the gold writing stamped across the cover. It’s a savings book. Niall opens it and shows me the figure.

  I look and look again.

  ‘Is that how much you have in your account?’

  Niall nods. ‘Yes. It was left to me by my grandparents for when I was eighteen, to pay for university. Seven thousand euros.’

  I don’t know what to say. My mind is racing ahead, but I may have this all wrong. ‘Why are you showing me this?’

  ‘Oh, Erin, you are such a daft thing at times,’ says Niall. He leans over and kisses me on the head. ‘This is for us. We can use it for rent and food. I’ve looked into it all. We have enough for a deposit and a month’s rent up front. I’ll have to get it in my name and you will need a guarantor. I was thinking maybe Fiona would do it.’

  I nod, still not quite daring to believe what he is saying.

  ‘And…’

  ‘I’ll still go to uni, but I’ll go to one nearby. You can do your college course. We’ll get part-time jobs, like we said. We’ll get by. I promise.’

  ‘But, what about the termination?’

  ‘Just go along with it all. The night before you’re due to fly out to London, we’ll leave. We might need to stay in bed and breakfast to start with until we get somewhere, but if we can wait as long as possible before we leave, we won’t be using so much money.’

  ‘Oh, Niall, I don’t know what to say.’ I put my arms around him and we cling to each other. ‘I’m so happy. I thought you had changed your mind about everything. I’m sorry I doubted you.’

  ‘Here, I almost forgot. I have something for you,’ says Niall. He takes a small box from his pocket and presents it to me.

  I take the lid from the box and inside is a silver Triskelion pendant. The three points are curled around into a scroll at each end. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I say.

  Niall takes it from me and fastens it around my neck. ‘There are lots of variations on what the three scrolls represent,’ says Niall. ‘I like to think it’s the symbol of family. Father. Mother. Child.’ He touches each edge in turn. ‘Me. You. And our child.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘I will treasure it forever.’

  Chapt
er 13

  The days seem to be rolling into one. I ponder my new, but temporary, routine as I open up the café one morning. I’m surprised at how quickly I’ve adapted to living in Rossway, I hadn’t expected the transition to be so simple. I certainly hadn’t been expecting to actually enjoy it.

  And then the black cloud of reality descends. Of course, I shouldn’t get used to living here. Once Dad is out of danger, I’ll have to return to England and pick up my old life. Once I had been so certain London life was for me, but now the doubts are kicking in.

  Since the barbecue, Bex has called in several times for a coffee and a chat, which I’ve really enjoyed. We even went out for a drink one evening, complete with Breeze snuggled safely in the baby sling so Bex could still breastfeed when necessary. Apparently Bex breastfed Storm up until he was two years old and fully intends to do the same with Breeze. When I relay this to Ed during a phone call, he annoys me up by uttering the words ‘gross’ and making a retching noise.

  ‘God, I hope she’s not going to start all that at the naming ceremony,’ he complains.

  ‘For goodness sake, Ed, you make it sound disgusting and unnatural,’ I say. ‘Anyway, speaking of the naming ceremony, have you booked your flight?’

  ‘Yes, all done. I won’t be coming over in the interim, though.’

  I’m aware my immediate reaction is one of relief. It surprises me. The disappointment is mild by comparison. ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ I say. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I have a lot of work on and Ralph and Melissa have invited me over for dinner.’

  ‘You’d sooner be with Ralph and Melissa than with me?’ It irks me slightly, but I know I have no right to be put out, not least because of my initial response to Ed cancelling on me. I speak again before Ed can. ‘It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll have a great time, anyway.’

  ‘Mmm, thanks,’ says Ed. ‘It’s a bit stressful at work at the moment, not helped by your absence. Look, Erin, how long do you think it will be before you’re back?’

  ‘Honest answer? I don’t know,’ I say. ‘There’s still no change with Dad. They’ve carried out a neurological evaluation but they said it’s difficult to get an accurate understanding of what’s happening in his brain. Sometimes his brain is quite responsive but other times not so much because he’s sedated. They’re talking about bringing him out of the induced coma. I can’t come back to England yet. Mum still needs me.’

  ‘Can’t come back to England,’ repeats Ed.

  ‘That’s right. Not until the doctors can give a more definite prognosis.’

  ‘Yes, I heard that bit,’ snaps Ed. ‘That’s not what I was referring to. You used the words can’t come back to England. Don’t you mean you can’t come home? England is your home, Erin, not Ireland. God, how many times have you told me that?’

  ‘Don’t be so pedantic,’ I say. I totally hadn’t noticed my turn of phrase. ‘Does it really matter?’

  ‘It matters to me. Besides, I’m not sure how long I can keep this imposed amendment to the staff rota. Amber can’t cover all your clients forever.’

  ‘Seriously, Ed, I really could do without that sort of pressure at the moment,’ I say. ‘Look, I’ve got to go, I’m at the café and I’ve got customers waiting to be served. I’ll speak to you later.’

  ‘And you’ve got clients waiting here,’ says Ed. ‘To put it bluntly, I may have to start looking for a replacement for you. A permanent replacement.’

  That had been yesterday and I have no more desire now than I did then to pick up the phone and call Ed. What’s the point? We would only end up rowing. No, I’ll wait until next weekend when he is over for the naming ceremony. We can talk face to face. It’s always much better that way.

  I’m not entirely sure whether Ed was serious or whether he was just having a frustrated temper tantrum. Would he really find a replacement for me? And when he said replacement, what exactly was he referring to? My job or me?

  I mull this over as I take some rubbish out to the wheelie bin later that afternoon. As I close the lid to the bin, something makes me turn and look up at the rear of the two-storey doctor’s surgery. I scan the windows, but the one-way glass prevents me from seeing anything other than the reflection of the shops.

  I have the sensation of being watched. It makes me feel uneasy and I hurry back inside.

  Roisin was standing at the upstairs window of the surgery. She often stood there in her coffee break looking out at the rear of the shops. Her eyes were automatically drawn to Seahorse Café.

  Sometimes, she would get a glimpse of Erin. Today, Erin actually turned around and gazed up at the building. The one-way glass meant Roisin couldn’t be seen. It gave her an amazing sense of power. She stared straight at Erin. It brought a small smile of satisfaction to Roisin’s face.

  It had been several weeks since Erin arrived in Rossway and Roisin had been playing the waiting game. Erin seemed to be fitting rather too well into the village again. The Wright family had certainly taken to her. If only they knew the truth, especially Kerry. Roisin was sure he wouldn’t be so fascinated with her then. But first, Roisin needed to get some sort of confirmation as to what she suspected the truth about the pregnancy was. The Hurley family had a secret.

  She thought of Marie at the hospital. It must be tiring to have to sit there every day watching her husband. Surely it was taking its toll on the woman. Maybe now her defences would be weak…

  Roisin continued to stare at the café, long after Erin had disappeared back inside. Her fingers drummed a steady beat on the side of the coffee cup she clasped in her hands. Roisin needed to up her game.

  It was mid-afternoon and Roisin had timed her visit to the hospital just right. Erin would be busy in the café and Fiona would be picking up the children from school. Marie would be alone.

  Roisin came to a halt at the end of the corridor and took a moment to steel herself. She found the small four-bed ward on her right. Looking through the glass in the door, she could see Marie sitting beside Jim. She was slightly slumped forwards and her head hung down, like she had nodded off.

  Roisin pushed open the door. There was a soft release of suction as it swung inwards. Her trainers squeaked on the flooring and the nurse looked up from the patient she was attending to.

  Roisin gestured towards Marie and smiled. The nurse didn’t challenge her and nodded before returning to her patient.

  Marie must have sensed Roisin’s presence as she looked up with a start. Her eyes widened and her whole body tensed.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Don’t look so alarmed, Marie,’ said Roisin, taking the seat alongside the older woman.

  ‘I don’t know what you want, Roisin, but you’re not welcome.’

  ‘Now now, Marie. There’s no need to be nasty. I’ve merely come to see how Jim is.’ Roisin rose slightly to take a closer look at Jim’s face. The machine bleeped steadily in the background. ‘He seems peaceful enough. Which is probably a good thing, for now. I don’t suppose you want him to wake up just yet.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ said Marie.

  ‘If he wakes up, then he might remember what happened to him. You know, he might tell someone.’

  ‘How did you get to be so wicked?’ said Marie. ‘What is it you want?’

  ‘You know exactly what I want.’ Roisin sat back down on her seat. ‘I want that picture and I want to know the truth about the baby.’

  ‘I don’t have the picture any more.’ Marie looked straight ahead. ‘I destroyed it.’

  Roisin tightened her grip on her bag. She was not entirely surprised. Cross, yes, but not surprised. She had prepared for this. Marie was so predictable, really.

  ‘That’s okay, I don’t need the original,’ said Roisin. ‘I made a copy of it.’ She still had the scan she’d sent to Erin – that was only the front of the photo, it didn’t show what was written on the back, but Marie didn’t need to know that.

  ‘So what are you he
re for? If you think you know what happened to that baby, then you will need to prove it. There’s no way you can prove Erin had it.’ Marie spat the words out.

  It took a moment for Roisin to realise what Marie had said. It must have dawned on Marie at the exact same time. If Marie could look paler than she already did, then Roisin had just witnessed a miracle. Marie’s jaw dropped open and her eyes burned with horror. Her hand flew to her mouth. She went to speak, but Roisin beat her to it.

  ‘Thank you, Marie, you’ve just confirmed what I’ve been wondering since I found that photo.’ Roisin gave a laugh. ‘Erin was pregnant and had the baby.’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous,’ said Marie quickly. She was making a valiant attempt at recovering from the horrendous faux pas she had made. ‘Of course, she didn’t.’

  ‘You said there was no way I could prove Erin had the baby,’ said Roisin. Her words galloped to keep pace with her thoughts. She moved to the edge of her seat. ‘So, you’re admitting Erin was pregnant. Not only that, you’re telling me she had the baby.’

  ‘You’re fantasying now, Roisin,’ said Marie, her voice rose a level. She glanced over at the nurse and then back to Roisin. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Oh, I think I do,’ said Roisin. ‘Now, do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to give you a few days to think about this. You and your scheming daughter. And then I want you to tell me exactly what happened to that baby. I have a right to know. My mother does. My father does. Do you understand?’

  She could see Marie’s hand shaking. God, she was right about this. She just didn’t realise how right she had been and now she had Marie exactly where she wanted. Roisin had the power to save her mother, to give her mam something to live for. Diana could live for the future, instead of living for the past.

  ‘And if I don’t go along with you?’ said Marie, breaking Roisin’s thoughts.

  ‘I might have to tell the Guards the truth about Jim’s fall.’

  With that, Roisin marched out of the ward.

  Victory.