Forgive and Forget

by Patricia Scanlan

  A baby was the last thing she and Barry needed. He didn’t have to know she was pregnant, if that was what was wrong with her, she thought wildly as she made her way to the kitchens. She had options. This was something she should deal with herself.

  Squaring her shoulders, Aimee strode into the kitchen, grim-faced. Two squabbling prima donna chefs didn’t stand a chance the way she was feeling.

  ‘Ohmigod! Bryan, I’ve just got an email from Carina at work. Judith Baxter’s in a coma in hospital. She had a car accident the day of our wedding. It was her car we saw on the news last Sunday morning,’ Debbie exclaimed, shocked as she read it out to him. He was at a computer next to her. They were in an internet café off Battery Park, checking and sending emails before heading off to their favourite deli for breakfast.

  ‘That car was a write-off – if she survives it she’ll be lucky,’ Bryan declared as his fingers flew over the keys on his computer.

  ‘Mam’s going for her job interview today, she says. I really hope she gets it. She deserves it.’ Debbie read out her mother’s email.

  ‘Umm,’ her husband murmured, not really interested. One of his mates had sent him an email asking him if he was going to the Galway Races in August, as usual, now that he was tied to the sink.

  ‘Of course,’ he wrote. ‘Count me in.’ He wasn’t going to forgo his annual trip to the races with the lads. He wouldn’t mention it to Debbie just at the moment. She was having anxiety attacks about the amounts of money they were spending. They’d had to pay the interest on their credit card at the bank at the airport and after a week in the Big Apple they were almost maxed out again. ‘We’ll worry about it when we get home, we’re on our honeymoon,’ he soothed over and over, wishing she’d stop harping on about money.

  ‘Just don’t say anything about it until nearer the time,’ he typed. It was best to be prudent at all costs. ‘Come on, wife, let’s go have breakfast, I’m starving,’ he ordered, logging out.

  ‘Just let me finish this email to Mum,’ she murmured, typing furiously. ‘Just going to have breakfast and heading off on the ferry to Staten Island and the Statue of Liberty. Having a wonderful time. Miss you, see you soon, lots of love, Debbie xx,’ she wrote before logging off. It was amazing how much she missed her mother, she thought in surprise. She was longing to see her to tell her all about the terrific time she was having in New York. They had visited galleries and museums, gone to the theatre, shows and films and shopped like there was no tomorrow. The only thing marring her pleasure was the ever-increasing credit card bill.

  It was all right for Bryan to say they were on their honeymoon, but it was all going to be facing them when they got back to Ireland. Reality was going to sink in and they were going to be pretty smashed. It would definitely be time to pull their horns in, she reflected as Bryan paid their bill. If any overtime came up she was definitely going to take it, she decided, and then remembered Carina’s email.

  Would Judith survive the car crash, and would she come out of her coma unscathed? Debbie certainly didn’t wish her boss anything bad, but wouldn’t it be a great relief if she weren’t able to come back to work? Imagine never having to face Batty Baxter again? That certainly would be one less worry to have to deal with, Debbie thought as she tucked her arm into her husband’s and they went off to indulge in waffles drenched in maple syrup, and good strong coffee.

  ‘I’m afraid my daughter’s in hospital, she’s in a coma and she won’t be reading for a while, so I’ve brought back her library books,’ Lily told the young man at the desk in the library.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said, taking them from her. ‘What happened?’

  ‘A car accident,’ Lily said sadly. ‘It’s terrible to see her lying there.’

  ‘I couldn’t imagine it,’ he said compassionately.

  ‘I go in every day to see her. And I talk to her. I don’t know if she hears me or not, but it’s all I can do for her.’

  ‘God is good,’ he said kindly. ‘Hope for the best.’

  ‘I will,’ she said, touched by his kindness.

  ‘And do you read yourself?’ he asked as he ran a little pen over the label in one of the books.

  ‘I used to. I must get back into it, but my time is taken up now with the visiting,’ she explained.

  ‘Have a look around some time. Don’t be a stranger,’ he said as she was leaving.

  What a nice young man, and imagine him saying ‘God is good’ at his age, when most young people didn’t even know there was a god, she reflected as she hurried down Millmount Avenue to get her bus.

  ‘I was at the library this morning, Judith, I left in your books and I spoke to an extremely nice young man. When you’re better I must take up reading again. Sure, I can go by myself now to pick my books,’ she said to her sleeping daughter as she sat in the now-familiar cubicle stroking her hand. This was their world, white curtain rippling gently as nurses slipped in and out to attend to monitors and drips, sometimes stopping to talk, sometimes not, depending on how busy they were. They were kindness itself. They minded her as well as minding Judith and she would be forever in their debt. Did they even know, Lily wondered, what a difference they made? Turning a nightmare into something bearable. It comforted her greatly when she left Judith in the evening to know that her daughter was so lovingly minded.

  ‘You’d be proud of me, all I’m doing.’ She settled back in her chair for the chat. ‘I even go shopping in the Spar across the road. And I went for a little walk in the park one day. Cecily and Tom are amazed. I know they are. They thought I’d fall to pieces. But I couldn’t do that this time. You need me and I have to be strong for you.’ Lily studied her daughter carefully to see if there was any flicker of recognition. She looked very peaceful today, she thought, acutely aware of any little change, imperceptible to most, but not to her, who had sat by her bedside for a week, day in day out.

  ‘I was thinking,’ she said as she leaned down to take her knitting out of her bag, ‘that I could get a book for you and read it to you. We could start with poetry, if you like, and then I could read you some of those Roman books you and your father liked. I can read with no bother now,’ she continued as she took the ball of wool off the needles and unwound it a little.

  ‘That would be nice, Mother,’ Judith said weakly.

  ‘I think it’s a good—’ Lily stared at the bed in shock as comprehension dawned. Judith had just spoken to her. She was looking at her, a small smile playing around her lips.

  ‘You’re awake!’ Lily gasped.

  ‘Where am I?’ her daughter asked, her eyes flickering to the monitors and drips.

  ‘You’re in hospital. You had a car crash, don’t you remember?’ Lily stood up and leaned down to her. Judith shook her head and winced.

  ‘Hurts,’ she murmured, licking her lips.

  ‘I’ll get the nurse, don’t move.’ Lily shot out of the cubicle. ‘She’s awake, she’s awake, oh thank God, thank God.’ She burst into tears as the sister and a nurse hurried in to attend to Judith.

  Another young nurse came up to her and put her arm around her. ‘You come with me, now, and I’ll get you a nice cup of tea. They’ll have to do tests on Judith for the moment but we have to mind you too.’

  ‘It’s a miracle,’ whispered Lily, overcome with relief.

  ‘Miracles do happen, we see them every day,’ the nurse smilingly replied.

  ‘Can I just say one thing to her before I go?’

  ‘Of course, come in with me.’ She opened the curtains. The sister was asking Judith her name and where she worked and her date of birth.

  ‘Mrs Baxter just wants to have a word with Judith and then she’s going to have some tea,’ the young nurse explained.

  Lily took Judith’s hand. Everything else faded into oblivion. ‘I just wanted to say I love you, Judith. And we’ll sort something,’ she said earnestly, never taking her eyes off her daughter.

  ‘Thanks, Ma,’ Judith croaked, squeezing her hand feebly.
Lily squeezed back gently.

  ‘You get well now; there’s a good girl. I’ll be back in a little while. I’ve a lot to tell you. You’ll be surprised at what I was up to while you were asleep.’ She smiled at her daughter and joy filled her heart as Judith smiled back. Lily leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. They had made their peace, and Judith was going to be all right, Lily just knew it. Everything else could be sorted. God, indeed, was good.

  Judith lay quietly as the nurses did what they had to do, shining lights in her eyes, asking her questions. She could not remember the car crash, nor did she want to. She felt very peaceful. Her mother had told her she loved her. Judith was sure that she had heard her saying that she’d been to the library and the Spar supermarket. This was unbelievable. Her mother seemed sprightly and in control, far from the nervous, anxious Lily she knew.

  How long had she been like this? Her arm was in plaster. Was her car all right? Who was running her section at work? For a brief moment she felt agitated, and then she let it go. There was nothing she could do about anything right now. She was too tired to think about anything. She felt an unaccustomed sense of calm that was very soothing. Lily had said she’d be back. She could get all the answers to her questions then. But if Lily’s newfound confidence was as a result of her accident, then it was a mixed blessing indeed, Judith thought as she closed her eyes, content to let all her worries drift away.

  ‘Oh, what a lovely cat,’ Connie exclaimed as a little black and white moggie jumped up on her lap.

  ‘Oh good, you like cats,’ Mrs Mansfield approved as she sat in a chair by the window, studying Connie carefully.

  ‘I love them, I have a little black one myself called Miss Hope.’

  ‘What a nice name.’ Mrs Mansfield smiled.

  ‘She came from a litter called Faith, Hope and Charity,’ Connie explained. ‘She was the runt and I took her out of pity. She’s a great little companion.’

  ‘And tell me, do you like horses?’ queried her prospective employer.

  ‘I love them,’ Connie exclaimed. ‘I used to ride a little, but that was a long time ago.’

  ‘We used to breed horses, you know? Before my husband died. He died and left me with a young family to rear.’

  ‘That was tough,’ Connie sympathized.

  ‘It helped that we were very wealthy, of course,’ the old woman said matter-of-factly. ‘I had nannies to assist me. I sold the stables and kept a couple of my favourite horses. My granddaughters love riding, so I have two mares for them. I can’t ride of course, unfortunately, but I go to see our horses and talk to them. It would be part of your duties to bring me.’

  ‘That would be no problem, Mrs Mansfield,’ Connie said calmly, smiling at the elderly, white-haired lady sitting in the chair opposite her. She was thin, angular, with a fine-boned face that gave a hint of the beauty she’d once been. Bright blue eyes stared out over high cheekbones. Her creamy skin was soft and unlined. And a long straight nose emphasized the aristocratic air she exuded.

  ‘I like you. I think you’ll do. I’m very straight – if I have something on my mind I say it, and I expect you to do likewise. I’m very glad to see you wearing a proper uniform. It shows you take a pride in your job, very important that. I don’t like trousers on nurses. Too casual for my liking. You’ve made a good impression, my dear,’ Mrs Mansfield said briskly. ‘Enjoy your holiday, and I’ll see you when Martha goes in a few weeks’ time. Now go and tell Rita to give you a cup of tea before you leave, and she can tell you all about me.’ The old lady’s eyes twinkled, and Connie laughed.

  She liked her. Prickly, yes, a little, but she had a sense of humour and was alert and lively. This could be a very interesting position.

  ‘Go down the hall to the left and you’ll find the kitchen at the very end,’ Mrs Mansfield instructed and, although Connie didn’t really want tea, she felt she better do as she was bid. She followed the directions and pushed open the old-fashioned wooden door into a big bright airy kitchen that had a farmhouse feel to it. A man was seated at the table drinking from a big green mug. When he saw her he uncoiled himself from the chair and stood up.

  ‘Hello,’ he said politely. ‘Were you sent down to have a cup of tea?’

  ‘I was,’ she said, wondering who he was. He seemed very at home in the kitchen. She wondered was he one of Mrs Mansfield’s sons.

  ‘You better have one so,’ he said, pouring her a mug. ‘Rita’s gone out to the greenhouse to get some vegetables.’

  ‘Right,’ Connie said, taking the mug from him. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Drew Sullivan,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘You must be the new nurse.’ He eyed her up and down.

  ‘That’s me.’ Connie for some ridiculous reason felt a blush rise to her cheeks under his blue-eyed stare. He was tall, six foot at least, lean and rangy with a craggy, weather-beaten face and intense eyes. His grey hair was cut tight to his scalp and he was dressed casually in jeans, riding boots and a navy short-sleeved polo shirt that showed off his tanned, muscular arms.

  ‘I look after her ladyship’s horses. I have a stables and livery business a mile down the road. Mrs M insists I come, personally, to be paid every week. But I’m fond of her. She’s an interesting old lady and she has a good heart. You could do worse,’ he informed her, still studying her as he drank his tea.

  ‘I see,’ she said. ‘I’m Connie Adams. Nice to meet you, Drew.’ She held out her hand and it was taken in a firm clasp.

  ‘Likewise,’ he said, draining his tea and rinsing his mug under the tap. ‘Well, I must be off, time’s passing. See you around, Connie. Good luck with the job.’ He raised a hand in salute and then he was gone, loping across the yard to a muddy black jeep.

  ‘Aw, is Drew gone? He’s always rushing somewhere or other. Hi ya, I’m Rita, I’m chief cook and bottle-washer.’ A young woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail and an infectious grin held out her hand when she came in carrying a basket of vegetables a few moments later.

  ‘Hi Rita, I’m Connie Adams,’ Connie introduced herself.

  ‘Isn’t he a fine thing? I keep telling my husband I’m going to run away with him.’ Rita laughed, looking out the window and waving at Drew as he turned the jeep in the courtyard and drove past the kitchen. He grinned, showing even white teeth, and raised his hand in a wave.

  ‘Is he married?’ Connie asked.

  ‘Divorced and not looking, according to himself. Are you married?’

  ‘Divorced and not looking either.’ Connie laughed.

  ‘Are you going to take the job if Mrs M offers it to you? She’s nice to work for.’

  ‘So I hear, and she’s offered it to me already.’

  ‘Ah, great stuff. So you’ll be starting in a couple of weeks?’

  ‘Yep. Looks like it.’

  ‘I think you’ll enjoy it.’ Rita busied herself popping broad beans out of their pods.

  ‘I hope so,’ Connie said, feeling quite at home already.

  Half an hour later, she let herself into the cottage. ‘I’m back,’ she called.

  ‘How did your interview go?’ Melissa emerged from the sitting room with a purring Hope snuggled up under her chin.

  ‘Got the job.’ Connie grinned. ‘I’m so sorry I had to go out.’

  ‘I didn’t mind. Thanks for letting me come over and meeting me off the Dart. I was like so bored. My dad said he’d come and collect me when I texted him to say I’d come to visit.’

  ‘Did he? I can put you on the Dart and save him the trouble,’ Connie said lightly, not particularly wanting a visit from Barry.

  ‘Whatever suits,’ Melissa said airily. ‘Can I have a look at more photo albums of Debbie and Dad when they were young?’

  ‘Sure, go and sit out on the lounger and I’ll bring them to you and then I’ll get out of this uniform and we’ll have a cup of tea.’

  ‘Will I make it for you?’

  ‘That would be nice, love. I’ll run up and change and ring your dad,’ Connie
replied, enjoying the girl’s company.

  ‘OK,’ agreed Melissa.

  ‘Barry, Connie here,’ she said a few minutes later as she sat on the side of the bed. ‘Hope I’m not disturbing the game.’

  ‘Hi, Connie. No, I’m finished. I’m in the clubhouse. I was just going to have a coffee and then I’ll drive down and collect Melissa.’

  ‘Please don’t put yourself out,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll put her on the Dart, and it will mean you won’t be stuck in the traffic. It’s much easier, believe me. And it would suit me better. I’m going out later,’ she fibbed.

  ‘Oh! Where?’

  ‘With friends,’ she said off-handedly. She was delighted that Melissa had asked to come and visit, but she didn’t want Barry using it as an excuse to come and visit too, and she wanted him to know it.

  ‘That’s a shame. I’d like to have seen you.’

  ‘Another time,’ she said. ‘Now I must go and get out of this uniform. I’m baked.’

  ‘How did the interview go?’

  ‘Got it.’ She smiled.

  ‘Well done, Connie, well done,’ he said, pleased for her.

  ‘Thanks. I’m delighted. See you,’ she said before hanging up. She wasn’t going to give her ex-husband any more chances to make a move on her. That chapter of her life was over. She was moving on.

  Barry took a gulp of coffee and stared unseeingly out the window. Connie was definitely giving him the cold shoulder. Collecting Melissa would have been a very reasonable excuse to go and see her. She sounded very perky and lively. He wished he felt the same, he thought disconsolately. His wife was working her butt off and wouldn’t be home until late. His daughter hadn’t even wanted to have their usual doughnut and coffee treat this morning; his ex-wife was going out with friends and didn’t want to see him. So much for family, he thought crossly.

  Who were Connie’s friends? Were they male or female? he wondered. She’d certainly dropped him like a hot potato once the wedding was over, he thought self-pityingly as he drank his coffee. Maybe if he sent flowers to congratulate her for getting the job she might soften her attitude. He only wanted to be friends, for heaven’s sake, he assured himself. What was the problem with that?