Beautiful Child

by Menon, David

  Penny enjoyed her job as a teaching assistant at the school where Katie, their youngest, went and she would also have to agree that the family finances had been easier since she’d gone out to work. But she was broody.

  ‘I suppose it’s my ticking clock talking,’ said Penny.

  ‘I didn’t mean to be insensitive.’

  ‘You weren’t,’ said Penny.

  ‘ To be honest, Pen, I just don’t think I could go through the nappy and sleepless night stage again,’ Adrian admitted, ‘I like the fact that our kids are kids now and not babies anymore. There’s a great thing going between the five of us.’

  ‘ I know’ said Penny, smiling at certain memories. She’d always thought she’d be closer to her daughters and indeed she adored her girls. But in fact it was her son Tom who was her ‘mate’ amongst the three. She sometimes thought it may be because she saw so much of Adrian in Tom and that led to her being a little bit in love with her son like many mothers were.

  ‘I’d like us to get the overdraft down and pay off some of the balance on the credit cards. You know, get rid of some of our debt.’

  ‘Isn’t that what you up your mortgage for?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s a limit to that, Pen, and we’re very close to it considering the way house prices are at the moment.’

  ‘I didn’t realise things were that bad.’

  ‘They’re not,’ said Adrian, ‘we’re in a better position than many others. We could just do a bit better than we do, that’s all.’

  She kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘Now what have I done?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Penny. ‘I just felt like it, like I just feel like getting another one in and this time, I do mean a drink.’

  A little while later they joined some of their friends and neighbours at the bar. As they talked Adrian kept a light hand on his wife’s bottom and an intimate closeness that she responded to with equal affection. Her touch in the small of his back, the smell of her perfume as she stood so close, were just two of the things that made him glad that she was his wife. When they got home, Adrian’s Mum had a coffee with them before leaving. Then Adrian and Penny went upstairs to bed and made love.

  Just before one o’clock in the morning they had another baby on the way.

  *

  Canon Brendan O’ Farrell of the Holy Saints Catholic Church in Salford had always been a very proud and fastidious man. It had been fifty years since he’d graduated from the seminary in Dublin and cut the ties with his native County Clare for a life in the priesthood. Holy Saints had been his very first posting and he’d been over in England so long he almost felt like he’d gone native. But whenever he went back home to ‘Clare’ his seven brothers and sisters reminded him that he was a thoroughbred Irishman. Brendan was the oldest and therefore the one who’d come under the most pressure from their late parents. One of the five boys had to become a priest and Brendan had found it impossible to resist. He had wanted to become a train driver but judging by how his chest had developed, perhaps God had been steering him away from all that steam that had surrounded the trains back then.

  He was too old, he was now in his late sixties, to get up to do the morning weekday Mass but he had to give young Phillip a bit of a break. Father Phillip Evans had been holding the fort here at Holy Saints for the last couple of years and the poor lad was exhausted. It was a big church with a big parish and there just weren’t enough priests to go round. He liked young Phillip. He seemed like a normal sort of bloke. He’d lost count of the amount of young priests whose promise had been sacrificed when they were moved around on account of being too fond of little girls or little boys. He didn’t think Phillip would fall into that particular trap. He’d been wrong before but he felt pretty certain about Phillip. He didn’t seem like the sort to have a ‘side’ to him.

  Brendan was only going to be at Holy Saints for another couple of months. He’d already booked his ticket back home to County Clare on Aer Lingus, or rather he’d got young Phillip to do it on account of it having to be done on the internet if you wanted to take advantage of the cheaper fares. Just another couple of months and then he’d finally be allowed to retire. He had a small cottage waiting for him that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean that was next door to his sister Bernadette and her husband Gerald who had retired there last year. His nephew had already fitted his satellite television. He couldn’t wait.

  After the Mass was finished he went into the kitchen to find his breakfast. He might’ve known that Ann Schofield, who was not only the priests’ housekeeper but also one of Brendan’s oldest and closest friends, would already be at her post, preparing a pot of tea along with toast, bacon, and eggs.

  ‘Aw, Ann!’ greeted Brendan warmly, ‘Where would we be without you?’

  ‘Sit yourself down, Brendan and I’ll see to you.’

  ‘I will sure enough, Ann’ said Brendan who pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He was in full priest’s gear but he’d taken off his white dog collar and rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt. He’d miss these mornings with Ann. She’d always been more than just a friend and he’d miss her physical presence in his daily life. It would be one of the things that reinforced the loneliness he feared might overwhelm him once he didn’t have the structure of the church to sustain him through the dark days.

  Ann poured some tea for him. He always looked in need of nourishment when he came in from performing early morning Mass, that and the fags that he now had to smoke outside. Years ago in Ireland he’d signed the pledge never to drink alcohol. But he more than made up for it with the amount of cigarettes he got through. Sometimes those attending early morning Mass witnessed the burning of incense having the same effect on his throat and chest as the cigarettes did. Sometimes he could barely get through the Mass without constant coughing fits. It was why they were so poorly attended when people knew he was doing them.

  ‘You’ve been a God send to Phillip since you came here,’ she said, ‘there were nights when he almost seemed too exhausted to get himself to bed.’

  ‘I know,’ said Brendan, rubbing his chin, ‘and what’s going to happen to this place when both you and I retire in a few weeks’ time? I still haven’t heard from the Bishop about getting another priest to come here permanently to work with Phillip. And who could replace you, Ann?’

  Ann blushed. ‘You know who, Brendan. It’s going to be Joan Fitzgerald.’

  ‘Oh but she won’t make cakes like you do!’ he groaned.

  ‘And why would you care? You won’t be here so stop being so uncharitable.’

  ‘Alright, boss,’ said Brendan. He smiled at the plate of eggs and bacon that Ann placed before him. ‘ Just how I like it,’ he said, ‘the eggs runny and the bacon soft.’

  ‘I should know what you like by now, Brendan, after all these years,’ said Ann.

  ‘And back then we didn’t have any problem getting priests.’

  ‘Back then the church didn’t have any trouble getting priests to come to anywhere,’ said Ann, ‘but you’ve kept on coming back.’

  ‘Like the proverbial bad penny.’ Added Brendan with a wink at her.

  ‘I wanted so much for our Matt to go into the priesthood,’ said Ann, sighing like she always did when she thought of it, ‘but it wasn’t to be.’

  ‘No,’ said Brendan. ‘ It wasn’t but Matthew has a very worthy career in medicine. Priests and doctors both give to the community we serve. And as for your Susie, well she’s doing fine running the family business, Ann, which must make you very proud. I’d say your lot were doing alright.’

  ‘I’ve much to be grateful for, Brendan,’ said Ann.

  ‘And much to look forward to,’ said Brendan, ‘like Susie’s wedding for instance. That’s going to be a grand affair.’

  ‘It is,’ said Ann, ‘but I’ve still no grandchildren though, Brendan.’

  ‘They’ll come, Ann’ said Brendan, ‘I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Well I don’t know when Susie will fee
l inclined to give in to the natural forces of nature,’ said Ann, ‘she’s too busy being a career girl. And as for our Matt… well he would’ve been headed for happiness if the devil hadn’t got in his way and turned his life into darkness.’

  ‘Is that your view or his, Ann?’

  ‘It’s mine, Brendan, as you well know.’

  ‘Would you take all that bitterness out of your voice, Ann? I’d have been looking to you to show some love and compassion.’

  Ann sniffed. ‘Yes, well, let’s just say I have to pray to God for the strength to do that where Matt’s so-called lifestyle is concerned.’

  ‘And I can see you’re not listening to the Almighty’s responses.’

  ‘God always listens, Brendan,’ said Ann, ‘but I’m only human after all although I’ll try. I’ll try, Brendan. For your sake, I’ll try.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But if our Matthew doesn’t repent for his sin then I shall surely not see him in Heaven with me.’

  ‘Love the sinner and condemn the sin, Ann.’

  ‘Oh I know that, Brendan,’ said Ann, impatiently, ‘but I can’t stop him from leading a sinful life.’

  ‘Hope is the last thing you should lose in this instance, Ann.’

  ‘But His Holiness the Pope said again just last week in Rome that those who lead the sinful life that Matthew does shall not be welcomed into Heaven.’

  ‘Then we must pray harder than ever that the blinding light of Christ shall rip the sin from Matthew’s otherwise noble life, Ann.’

  ‘We shall, Brendan.’

  ‘And being a doctor is a noble life, Ann, no matter where else he lets life take him.’

  ‘I know, Brendan, I know.’

  ‘And he sticks to that practice right in the middle of one of the most impoverished areas of the city,’ said Brendan, ‘that’s got to say something good about the man and his values.’

  ‘You’re right there, he does care for the people he sees, I’ve seen him in action and it makes me proud. Perhaps I expect too much.’

  ‘And with regard to the Holy Pontiff, Ann, I don’t believe he is always infallible.’

  Ann gasped. ‘Brendan!’

  ‘Well I don’t, Ann.’

  ‘But isn’t that what’s wrong with the Church today, Brendan? People are picking and choosing whenever it suits them. This Pope is trying to bring back the discipline and the obedience that others have let slip.’

  ‘This Pope needs to remember what it’s like to be a human being, Ann.’

  ‘I’m lost for words, Brendan.’

  ‘Well I know you wouldn’t expect me to talk like this but as I get closer to the exit door I find my tongue getting a little looser.’ said Brendan. ‘A little reflection does none of us any harm and if you can believe in Matthew as a good person… ‘

  ‘…which I do, Brendan. He’s the first one I ever turn to whenever there’s anything wrong in the family.’

  ‘…well then you can learn to accept that he finds happiness in ways that you wouldn’t have chosen for him but which are not necessarily going to send him downstairs. Am I making sense or talking out the back of my arse?’

  Ann laughed out loud. ‘Brendan, you could always work your way through my worries with your words. How is that?’

  ‘Simple.’ said Brendan. ‘I’m Irish and words were made for us. Now pour us both some more tea and we’ll create ourselves a little bit of Heaven around this table before all the flotsam and jetsam of daily life starts turning it into Hell.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kieran Quinn was in the shower when he heard Sara let herself in. It was so much easier now she had her own key to his flat in Deansgate Locks, just south of Manchester city centre and his flat mate didn’t mind especially as his girlfriend had one too. He wiped himself dry with a towel and then wrapped it round his middle. He walked through to the hallway and was already hard as he watched her strip down to her bra and pants. She was wearing the black lace underwear that he loved. Then she took off her bra and slid her pants down her long legs. Kieran curled up the corner of his mouth and breathed in deep.

  ‘I got you some perfume.’

  ‘I’ll take it later,’ said Sara.

  They jumped on each other and she lifted up her legs and wrapped them round his waist. He’d been away for a week and she was desperate to feel him inside her. He pushed her up against the wall and started giving it to her. She was wet, gloriously wet and he’d perfected the art of getting to the point of orgasm and then holding back just to drive her crazy. He was a strong young man and he could keep this going even as his muscles were holding her in such an indecent position. He could feel her hands grasping his hair and then her nails digging into the top of his back. They were both noisy with their gasps and moans and eventually he gave up control and let himself come. Sara could feel so much of it as he pulled himself out of her. They were breathless and panting. Sara let her feet drop to the floor and the muscles in her legs relax. Kieran leaned up against her and they kissed.

  ‘Now how about a drink, DCI Hoyland?’

  ‘I need one after that, PC Quinn.’

  Kieran poured them each a glass of champagne and they lay down naked together on the sofa in the living room like two spoons in a drawer with Sara leaning back against Kieran who had his arm wrapped round her breasts. Her free hand was resting on the outside of his thigh.

  ‘Well even by your standards, lover, that was pretty amazing,’ gasped Sara.

  ‘I aim to please, madam,’ said Kieran who was glad to be home. Much as they liked to consider themselves to be free agents with no strings attached to their liaison, Kieran was getting more out of their relationship than just the sex of a lifetime. There was something about being with an older woman like Sara that he wished every man of his age could experience. He’d lost his virginity at the age of fourteen and since then he’d never gone short. But he’d never had anyone like Sara. When he was old and grey he’d remember these times with a woman who’d made him feel more alive than he’d ever dared to before. The only trouble was he couldn’t imagine anybody being as free as Sara was. She wasn’t hung up about anything to do with sex and for a young man of twenty-five it was as if the devil had sent him an angel. Nobody else would ever come close.

  ‘I thought you might be all spent after your lad’s holiday in Spain,’ she said, running her fingernails up and down his leg.

  ‘I backed out of going on the pull the last two nights of the holiday.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Kieran, ‘I was saving myself.’

  ‘Well how sweet is that? I’m flattered.’

  ‘You know I haven’t even unpacked yet,’ said Kieran, ‘I didn’t get in from the airport until just after three.’

  ‘When are you back at work?’

  ‘Late shift tomorrow.’ said Kieran.

  Sara threw her arm back and placed her hand round the back of his neck. She let out a sigh of contentment.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re satisfied already?’ said Kieran.

  Sara smiled. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m just letting you know I’m glad you’re back.’

  Sara glanced round at these now more than familiar surroundings. The flat was such a lads place. Kieran and his flat mate had two calendars stuck on the wall featuring barely clad women and the stack of DVD’s next to the TV were all action films containing little dialogue or characterisation beyond knowing why someone would want to shoot themselves around a city on the other side of the world.

  ‘I’m glad to be back.’

  ‘So what was your scorecard out there?’

  ‘Five.’

  ‘Five?’

  ‘Well I was only there for seven nights and, like I said, I did abstain on the last two nights.’

  ‘I’ll bet it was as easy as buying them a drink.’

  ‘It wasn’t tough.’

  ‘Especially with this tan you’ve got.’

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘I lov
e it,’ said Sara, ‘although judging by the size of your white bits your swimming briefs wouldn’t leave much to a girl’s imagination.’

  ‘I’m proud of what I’ve got.’

  ‘You should be.’

  Sara turned herself over and took his face in her hands. One day he’d father the most beautiful children. She loved his thick dark blond hair and his green eyes. She loved his chest hair that was shaped like an upside down triangle and that tapered into a thin line down his stomach to his groin. Maintaining a physical attraction for him was easy. Knowing that she’d one day have to see him go off with some pretty young thing was beginning to bother her in a way that she found annoying. She hadn’t counted on this happening and she’d have to be careful not to let it show.

  ‘You did say it was alright?’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Me going with other girls?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Sara who certainly didn’t want to give away that she’d actually missed him for more than just the carnal. ‘I was just interested to know, that’s all.’

  *

  Matt Schofield was getting ready to see his afternoon patients. The surgery was a single storey grey building with iron bars at the windows and a metal fence surrounding it. It had to be done up like Fort Knox because of all the break-ins. Usually it was down to local addicts who tried to help themselves to a different kind of currency from money. The surgery was in the middle of four tower blocks and at the top end of a two mile stretch of council houses that had been built in the 1950’s and which had only just been modernised to bring the toilet inside, have a shower and a modern kitchen fitted and central heating installed. Some of the houses had two or three steps up to the front door and these had also had handrails fitted to make it easier for those residents who were no longer so agile on their feet. The modernisation work had brought a stream of residents into Matt’s surgery though, all complaining about it all being ‘too much of an upheaval’ for them. Poor sods, Matt had thought. None of them had ever known what it was like to improve their lot and now they needed tablets to calm their nerves because the council, using government grants, was making life better for them. When Matt had asked one lady if she wasn’t just a little bit pleased that it was all being done she replied, ‘What do I want with a flaming shower, for God’s sake? I have a good soak every Sunday night before Songs of Praise and that does me.’ It had all proved to Matt that no matter how much is done for some people they are just never going to be happy.