by Anita Notaro
45
WILLIAM AND BETH
‘FIVE, FOUR, THREE, two, one, Happy New Year!’ corks popped and streamers and balloons seemed to fall from the sky as the orchestra segued into ‘Auld Lang Syne’.
‘Happy New Year, darling.’ William turned to Beth and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You have to hand it to him, Dermot Bryant sure knows how to throw a party. I’ve never seen so much Dom P in one room in my life. Want another?’
‘No, thanks, I’m taking it easy.’ Beth looked around, enjoying the moment. A group of friends arrived to air-kiss and clink glasses and it was only when she found herself being lifted up and swung around by Ronnie Wilson, one of William’s more outgoing colleagues, that Beth felt a bit faint.
‘William, I need some air. Could you help me, please?’ She was afraid she was going to pass out.
‘Of course, are you OK?’ He came to her aid immediately and ushered her outside to a huge balcony where people were smoking and dancing and waiters hovered with trays of bubbles.
‘Sit down over here.’ William was concerned. Beth hadn’t been herself at all for the past few weeks. ‘Can I get you a glass of water, darling?’ He was at his most attentive.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Back in a jif.’ William decided to have a little talk with her the following day. Something was bothering her, he was sure of it. She’d taken to calling in at the clinic at odd times and kept ringing him on his mobile asking him to come home early. As a result he hadn’t had a minute to himself, his gym routine had gone to pot and he hadn’t even managed to find time to drop down to see Lily with the expensive lingerie he’d picked up for her in Harvey Nicks – paid for in cash, of course.
‘There you go. How are you feeling now? Plenty of doctors here anyway,’ he joked as he sat down beside her and flagged a passing waiter for another drink for himself.
William liked this kind of party. Dermot Bryant knew everyone who was anyone in Dublin and it was the party of the Christmas season, complete with rock stars and best-selling authors, a handful of carefully chosen politicians and even the odd supermodel. William had been looking forward to it for ages: it would definitely be the main item for gossiping about in theatre later this week and besides, they’d already been snapped by more than one Sunday newspaper. William knew he looked the part, which always helped. He felt good and was still tanned this year, thanks to a mild autumn and a few wekends on the golf course.
‘I’m OK now.’ His wife interrupted his thoughts. ‘Just needed some air, that’s all.’ She looked a bit less grey, he decided, pleased.
‘Good.’ William hoped she wasn’t going to want to leave early. In fact, if she suggested it he’d offer to put her in a taxi. There was a fleet lined up outside Dermot’s mansion, all paid for already, he’d overheard someone with no class mentioning earlier.
‘More champagne, sir?’ a waiter asked discreetly.
‘Why not?’ William was relieved of his glass and a fresh one was handed to him in seconds, just as a young RTE presenter strolled by. She reminded William of Lily and he resolved to text her later to say Happy New Year, the bubbly making him forget his normal paranoia with text messages.
‘Maybe we could go soon, now that we’ve seen out the old year?’ Beth smiled at him. It was so unlike her: other years she’d be flitting about, delighted to be in the thick of it. His wife loved parties and people – much more than he did, in fact – and she usually chatted away to everyone she met, regardless of who they were. One year he’d found her in the corner with a very old lady, happily exchanging recipes instead of mingling and being seen.
‘Really?’
‘I’m a bit tired, actually.’
‘Would you mind if I stayed?’ William looked around and spotted a few people he wanted to see. He didn’t like the look on his wife’s face as soon as he suggested it, so he quickly added, ‘Or I could take you home in a taxi and then come back myself for an hour or so.’
Normally one of them staying and one going wouldn’t have been a problem – they’d done it often when they’d had to relieve a babysitter – although it was mostly Beth who went home early.
‘Do you really want to?’
‘Well, yes, I’d like to.’ He leaned over in a gesture of solidarity. ‘What’s the matter, darling? You’re normally the life and soul of a party like this.’
‘I’m pregnant, William.’
For a second he thought she was joking. He waited, but no elbow in the ribs came. ‘Pregnant?’ was all he managed.
‘Yep. Are you pleased?’
‘Well, I . . . of course, but darling, we agreed our family was complete. I mean, our life is pretty much perfect as it is . . .’
‘Well, these things happen, I suppose.’ She clearly wasn’t upset about it. ‘Anyway, I thought it might be a nice New Year present for you if all goes according to plan, which please God it will.’
William didn’t like surprises. ‘It’s a shock, I have to be honest.’ He looked at his wife. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ She laughed. ‘It’s not so unusual. I mean I’m barely forty, some women my age are only starting their families.’
‘Are you worried about your age?’ William asked quickly.
‘No, not really, although of course I’ll need to look after myself. But I’m healthy, that’s a good start . . .’ Her smile was overbright. ‘It’ll mean a few changes, that’s for certain.’
‘Such as?’ He didn’t like the sound of this.
‘Well, your new car, for instance. You probably should think about cancelling it. A two-seater, top-of-the-range whatyamaycallit will hardly be suitable now.’
‘But . . . but . . .’ William couldn’t believe his ears. He adored his car, it was a symbol of who he was. He’d been looking forward to the new model for months. It was being brought into the country ahead of schedule especially for him, and after the diesel fiasco they were giving him sat nav at no extra charge. ‘But you’ve always had the family car, darling. We can change the Volvo for an even bigger version, if you want . . .’
‘It’s not that, it’s just I want us to be able to do more together – and not in a car that’s always crammed with bottles for recycling or ice-cream wrappers or school-books. Besides, you’re going to have to take the other two out a bit more, now that there’ll be a new baby in the house. And you hate driving my car anyway. Last week you told me it smelt of sour milk.’ She’d obviously given it some thought. ‘A two-seater is for a single man.’ She sounded as if it was already agreed. ‘Also, while we’re on the subject of changes, I was thinking we could convert the big old garage that we never use into a home gym. That way you wouldn’t have to be out so much in the evenings.’
William felt his carefully designed life falling down around his ears.
‘And anyway,’ Beth continued, clearly on a roll, ‘I intend getting back into shape as quickly as I can afterwards, so I can use it too. It’ll be so much easier for both of us.’ She patted her stomach. ‘I’m prepared to work hard, I’ve become a bit flabby lately. Who knows, I might even start before the baby is born.’
William was lost for words.
46
JAMES AND TAMSIN
‘JAMES, WHAT TIME is it?’
‘Twelve thirty.’ He put down the book he was reading and turned to his wife, who was struggling to sit up in bed. ‘Are you OK? Can I get you anything?’
‘No, I’m fine, I must have dozed off. I didn’t want you to be on your own for the New Year.’ She flopped back down on the pillow. ‘I’m sorry, I just feel so worn out at the moment.’
‘I wasn’t alone, you were here beside me.’ James kissed her on the head. ‘Happy New Year, love.’
She gave him a sad smile. ‘It hasn’t been much of a Christmas, has it?’
‘No.’ There was no point in arguing that one, he decided.
‘I can’t seem to pick myself up after all that’s happened,’ she told him. ‘I hadn’t realized how much I was p
inning my hopes on Alison’s little boy.’
‘I know that.’ He’d been pretty geared up for it himself. ‘Would you consider talking to someone?’
‘James, I’m a psychologist, for God’s sake. I spend my life helping other people handle exactly this type of stressful situation in their lives.’ She looked worried. ‘It’s just that, for once, I don’t seem able to follow my own advice.’
‘Are the antidepressants helping at all?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘Maybe you should go back to the doctor then?’
‘James, will we be OK, do you think?’ She ignored his suggestion.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know, as a couple. Will we survive this awful time?’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.’ He’d never heard her talk like this. ‘We’re a strong unit, nothing can change that. Now, why don’t you just get some rest?’
‘You know, sometimes, on top of everything else, I hate you for being with Alison. I feel that maybe it put a curse on us . . .’
‘You never said that to me before,’ James said quietly.
‘I’ve felt so angry with you a lot of the time lately. And I wonder if God is punishing you – and by association me – by not giving us a child.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ he told her.
‘Well, that’s how I feel.’
‘Look.’ He jumped out of bed. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry. I’ve begged your forgiveness. I told you about it in the first place because I couldn’t bear to have it sitting there between us for the rest of our lives.’ He sighed. ‘But the one thing I can’t do is change what happened. And I need for us to try and get on with our lives, otherwise I’ll go crazy.’
‘I am trying to get on with my life, James, really I am. Every day I . . .’ She started to cry and it was as if she was in physical pain.
‘I’m sorry.’ He made to hold her, his earlier frustration diminished.
‘No, it’s me. I’m torturing myself and I want to punish you sometimes too. Just give me time, please?’
He shushed her with his finger. ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me. Take as long as you need.’
‘It’s just so hard. I feel so . . . lonely.’ She’d told him this many times over the past days. ‘I feel empty inside.’
‘I know.’ He cradled her to him. ‘I know you do.’
‘I wanted to give you a baby so badly.’ She was crying softly now.
‘You’re all I need, you know that,’ he told her again. ‘Anyway, love, let’s try and put this year behind us and start afresh. Maybe tomorrow we could go out for a long walk. Will you do that with me?’
‘I’ll try.’ She swallowed and his heart went out to her. They lay there in silence for ages.
‘I love you, darling,’ he whispered then, before he turned out his bedside lamp, but she was already asleep.
47
LILY
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
What the fuck’s going on? Are you seriously telling me the wedding came to a halt because a floozie turned up out of the blue with Richard’s illegitimate child in tow? And then a fight broke out? In that tiny little church in the arsehole of nowhere in rural Ireland where the last exciting thing to happen was electrification? Actually, fuck the expense, I’ll call you. This is too much for a woman with the worst hangover in all of Oz to get to grips with while typing. Anyway, the noise of this lousy keyboard is giving me an even worse headache.
S xx
I could hardly believe it myself. All hell had broken loose, I told Sally when she rang minutes later.
‘Start at the beginning and don’t dare leave anything out,’ she ordered.
‘Sure your delicate constitution can take it?’ I asked.
‘Yep, I’m munching painkillers as we speak,’ she said, trying to sound cheerful.
‘Well, actually it was awful. I felt really sorry for everyone. Daisy legged it, her mother slapped Richard very hard and then I didn’t see Brian for hours because he was suddenly in great demand for lawyer-type negotiations.’
‘How was Richard, was he mortified?’
‘He certainly wasn’t happy. He escaped as soon as possible. Tom – that radio presenter I told you about who was best man, remember? – well, he went a funny shade of purple. Oh, and then Richard’s mother tried to make polite conversation with the woman, in an effort to get better acquainted with her newly acquired grandson, I presume.’
‘Was she gorgeous, the woman I mean?’
‘No, ordinary, I thought. Seemed nice though. Great body but . . .’
‘So she was a BOBFOC?’
‘A what?’
‘Body off Baywatch, face off Crimewatch?’ she said and I laughed. It was so typical of Sal always to cut to the chase.
‘Jesus fucking Christ, I’ll never complain about weddings being boring again.’ Sally’s laugh crackled down the line. ‘Did you talk to Richard?’
‘Only briefly,’ I told her. ‘He was really upset at all the trouble he’d caused. It seems this woman has been telephoning him for weeks now and he’s been putting her off. All she’d say on the phone was that she needed to see him.’
‘Typical man, eh? Don’t deal with it if you can put it on the back burner.’
‘Apparently he eventually told her he was getting married and that he’d meet her after the whole thing was over . . .’
Sally snorted. ‘Red rag to bull comes to mind.’
‘I felt really sorry for Daisy too. What a nightmare.’
‘You’re over him so.’
‘D’ya know something, Sal, with all that’s happened I’ve been over him for a long time. I guess it took him almost getting married to make me realize it.’
‘And now he’s single again.’
‘Yeah, funny that.’
‘So what did he say, about the child I mean?’
‘Oh, he admitted he’d shagged the mother but said he wasn’t sure if the child was his, although the entire congregation thought he was the spit of Richard, from what I overheard. He said that it had been a fling after he’d finished school and took a gap year in New York. She’s from Belfast apparently, although she’d no accent, as far as I could tell. Anyway, she was a waitress in some Manhattan hotel where he worked part-time . . .’
‘Well, she obviously served him some lovely desserts.’ Sally wished she’d seen it all happen. ‘So where did you end up?’
‘In Kinnity Castle. No one knew what to do and all the younger crowd, friends, etc., were dying for a drink. So we went there anyway – not immediate families, obviously. You should have seen the manager’s face when Tom told him the wedding was off. I had to wait on Brian, who didn’t come back for hours. When he did he was pretty pissed off with Richard, as most people were, so we headed home. Tom and some of his mates were downing shots like water. I so wouldn’t want to be any of them this morning.’
Next day the café opened again and I was raring to go. I had the lights and ovens on, coffee brewing and was making a list when Orla arrived. She’d been back home for Christmas and we hugged each other warmly.
‘Tell me everything. How did Charlie get on?’
‘Fantastic. I had a lovely time with him.’
‘And the wedding?’
‘Now, you’ll need a coffee for this . . .’ I was off again. Even Violet knew not to disturb us so she and Naomi concentrated on getting the tables spotless and everything ready front-of-house for 8 a.m.
Our weekly delivery of flowers arrived bang on time and I’d ordered the first hyacinths of the season, so the café smelt gorgeous and reminded everyone that spring was on the way. Naomi went off to collect the newspapers and it wasn’t long before all our regulars came in – like old friends now – moaning about the cold and their credit card bills and useless presents and too much drink in about equal measure, it seemed. I revelled in it and had just found a spare minut
e to text Daniel Williams when he walked in the door.
‘Happy New Year, I was just about to send you a message,’ I told him, feeling good at the sight of him. His hair was longer than I remembered and he looked as healthy as always, despite the festivities.
‘I thought you might be on my case early all right,’ he teased. ‘I guess that,’ he lowered his voice, ‘declaration of love as you got on the train was because of my house as opposed to my irresistible charms, eh?’ He winked at me.
‘What was that about a declaration of love?’ Mrs Pearson, a devout Catholic and regular at ten o’clock mass, asked as she popped in for coffee with her cronies. Her new hearing aid was working, it appeared.
‘I’d say anything to get my hands on his house,’ I said, laughing.
‘You wouldn’t be the first, dear.’ She tutted and smiled at us fondly.
‘That’s how rumours start.’ Daniel pretended to look serious.
‘Tell me all,’ I said as I handed him his coffee. ‘And what are the chances of taking me to see the house today? I can’t sleep thinking about it.’
‘Put that in a takeaway cup, so.’ He handed me back the coffee. ‘But I only have an hour.’
‘Me too. Have to be back for lunchtime.’ I whipped off my apron. ‘Thanks. I’ve been so excited, I drove out the road to see if I could spot it as soon as I got back in from Cork, even though it was pitch black.’
‘Can’t be seen from the road,’ he told me as we headed for his car.
‘Yes, thank you, I discovered that.’
‘Now close your eyes,’ he instructed as we rounded a bend a little while later, ‘and don’t open them until I tell you.’
I did as I was told and he stopped the car, pushed in a gate and drove a short distance further on.
‘Now, as I said, the best thing about this place is the view.’ He was helping me out of his jeep. ‘So you can look at that first.’
It took me a second to get my bearings. ‘Oh my God,’ I said quietly. ‘Oh my God,’ I screamed then. All I could see was miles of blue sea held in place by a ribbon of pale cream sand.