Suzie nodded in approval at her son-in-law, ‘Yeah, let’s sue the bastards.’
‘You don’t understand, Doctor,’ Sharon told the consultant. ‘My mother never swears. And as for blasphemy . . .’ She trailed off, shaking her head. ‘It’s completely out of character. Even in her sleep she’s cursing.’
Jess bit her lip and avoided her little brother’s eyes.
‘Ms Connors—’
‘It’s Mulvey. Sharon Mulvey.’
The consultant looked weary. ‘It’s not uncommon for people who suffer traumatic brain injury to change.’
Jess frowned. ‘In what way, exactly?’
‘In any number of ways, but largely temperament. That said, it’s been known for some to even speak with a different accent or in another language. Or others, like your mum, forget what’s expected of them in normal, social situations and can sometimes be insensitive. But I’m quite pleased with her progress. She’s awake, cognisant and, physically, as good as new.’
‘Will she get better?’ Sharon asked, ignoring the positives.
He shrugged. ‘I’m afraid I can’t answer that. Some people revert to the way they were before the injury but it may take weeks, even months. Others don’t but, with help, can learn how to fit in again.’
Jess looked at her sister in exasperation. ‘So, she swears. Does it matter? When will you discharge her, Doctor?’
‘In a few days.’
Jess beamed. ‘That’s wonderful, Doctor, thank you.’
‘Go home.’
‘That’s a lovely way to talk to your daughter.’ Jess pretended to look offended.
‘You’ve spent far too much time in that bloody chair. It’s a wonder you can still walk. What about your job?’
Jess pointed at her laptop. ‘Where I go, it goes. I can write anywhere, even in this place.’ Jess yawned and glanced at her watch. ‘But I will head off. I’m giving your house a spring clean in the morning. God only knows what’s growing under Noel’s bed.’
Suzie chuckled. ‘I thought he might have become self-sufficient these last few weeks.’
‘Nah. Sharon did his ironing and kept the freezer stocked and I nipped in to clean and load the washing machine. If any woman is ever crazy enough to take him on, she won’t thank us.’ She paused. ‘It’s great to be able to talk to you again, Mum. I’ve missed you.’
‘Likewise,’ Suzie said.
‘Sharon’s bringing Bobby in to see you tomorrow. He can’t wait to see his granny.’
Suzie snorted in disbelief. ‘Ha, pull the other one. Sharon’s probably had to promise him a fiver to come along. I wish she’d get him to call me something else. It’s not very flattering being called a granny when you’re in your forties.’
Jess looked surprised and then shook her head, her smile sad.
‘What?’ Suzie frowned.
‘Nothing. Have a good night’s sleep, Mum. See you tomorrow.’ Jess hugged her once more and left.
Alone, Suzie found her thoughts turning to her luck in surviving this brush with death. She still had no memory of the accident and only vaguely knew the hotel where it had taken place. It wasn’t the sort of place she hung out in. What on earth had made her go? And what was she doing climbing onto a treadmill? Suzie figured she must have been plastered, not that she drank much; at least she didn’t think so.
She was glad she’d survived. It would have been such a humiliating way to die – she could imagine the sniggers at the funeral. But, she had, and here she was, eight weeks later, and she seemed to be fine. What were the chances? It was like a sign, a warning, even. From what she could remember, she was an ordinary woman who’d lived an ordinary life, taking pleasure in simple things, her life revolving round her family. Apart from the occasional outing to the cinema or dinner with her old mate, Nora, Suzie rarely went anywhere. How had she ended up in such a rut?
When she’d married John Connors and moved to Limerick, Suzie had left behind her friends and her job and become a stay-at-home mum. Mind you, once Sharon and Noel came along, she’d had her hands full. Moving to such a rural location was one hell of a shock for a Dublin girl who’d lived her life in a busy suburb just minutes from the city centre. Having been brought up in a noisy, crowded house, nothing could have prepared Suzie for the silence and isolation of her new home.
Once Noel started school, she’d made noises about finding a part-time job, but John hadn’t been that keen. He worked for a meat-processing company and had reached the dizzy heights of purchasing director. They didn’t need the money, he told her, and he didn’t like the idea of his family turning into latchkey kids. If she was honest, she hadn’t either but she had often missed the camaraderie she’d enjoyed when she’d worked in CML.
She smiled as she thought of her one and only job. It had been the perfect position for her. Designing screen presentations had come as naturally to her as breathing. Chrissie, her tutor, had urged her to go for this job in the large conference-management company, despite the fact that she’d no work experience and was pregnant. Suzie still remembered how nervous she’d felt when she walked into the sumptuous offices of CML for the first time. She knew that Gina, her interviewer, had loved the mock presentation that she’d been asked to prepare prior to their meeting. But she’d also seen her worried frown when Suzie had told her about her condition. And so it was a pleasant shock when she was called for a second interview and subsequently got the job. It had taken her a while to settle into CML. The small staff seemed so close and she’d felt like an outsider. She had nothing in common with them and, as the days passed, she became more and more self-conscious about her accent, education and background. What a chip on her shoulder she’d had, thinking her colleagues were judging her. The truth was that she’d been the one guilty of that. They’d been great and become true friends, getting her through one of the most difficult points in her life. She’d lost touch with them, as people do when their lives move in different directions. Sad, really. She should do something about that, maybe call Gina and meet up for coffee.
Her thoughts returned to Limerick and the frosty reception she’d got from John’s family and friends. His parents were quiet, stern people with little to say and Maurice, John’s only brother, wasn’t much better. Where John had got his outgoing personality and sense of humour, Suzie couldn’t imagine. On arriving in the small community, she had been a curiosity but after a few weeks, she was accepted as the Dubliner that John Connors had married and left to her own devices.
Her isolation ended the day she was coming back from the shop with Jess snuggled up warm in her buggy, oblivious of the bumpy ride down the narrow lane, and came across Nora Browne bent over the engine of her car and muttering to herself.
‘Oh, come on, you can’t break down on me again. You’ve only just had a feckin’ service. What is it? Are you allergic to the bloody cold?’
Suzie burst out laughing and winced when the woman lifted her head and bashed it on the bonnet. ‘Ow!’
‘Oh, sorry.’
Nora grinned and rubbed her head. ‘I don’t suppose you know anything about cars?’
‘No, but I can make you a cuppa while you phone someone who does.’
The woman considered her for a moment and then slammed the bonnet shut and stuck her hand out. ‘That’s the best offer I’m likely to get. Nora Browne.’
‘Suzie Connors.’
‘Ah, John’s wife. You’re my neighbour!’
Suzie had frowned, glancing around at the acres of fields around them. ‘Neighbour?’
Nora laughed. ‘Absolutely. I’m only a ten-minute drive up the road.’
And they’d been best friends since.
Fuck! Suzie sprang up in the bed. Had anyone told Nora she was awake? With a sigh, she sank back into the pillows, remembering that she’d been awake a couple of weeks now and Jess had assured her that she’d told the world and its mother that Suzie Connors was alive and kicking. No doubt Nora had been at the top of the list.
Yo
u could always rely on Jess. Suzie would have gone nuts in those first few weeks in Limerick if it hadn’t been for her elder daughter. She had been a sweet-natured three-year-old and as good company as an adult, maybe better. When Suzie looked at her daughter she often wondered how she’d managed to produce a beauty like Jess. Although she had the Clarke blue eyes, that was where the resemblance to her mother ended. Jess was petite with a luxurious mane of dark hair and sallow skin that tanned easily unlike the Connors or Clarke complexions that freckled and burned.
Sharon was a honeymoon baby, and rather than feel threatened by this new addition to the family, Jess had been delighted with her little sister. Almost four years later Noel had completed their little family and with her good friend, Nora, nearby to laugh and cry with, she had been quite content with her life in Limerick. Until John had to go and spoil it.
Suzie frowned. Where had that come from? She was pretty sure he’d done something to upset her, something serious, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what. She shook her head, exasperated. How come some moments in her life were as clear as crystal and others so vague or completely absent?
For example, she had few memories of Sharon’s and Noel’s early days, and yet she remembered so much more about her eldest. Should she really still have these gaps in her memory? It was bloody frustrating and a bit scary. Not that she planned to tell anyone. It would only mean more fucking tests, and Suzie wasn’t staying in this room a moment longer than she had to.
Chapter Three
Katie carried two beers over, oblivious of the admiring looks from the guys who parted to let her through. ‘It’s like a scrum trying to get a drink in this place,’ she said, squeezing into the seat next to Jess. ‘To your mum!’
‘To Mum.’ Jess smiled.
‘Remind me why we’re here again.’ Katie looked round with distaste.
The stuffy pub was packed and the noise level had risen as more alcohol was consumed.
‘One of the guys is leaving the Gazette and the boss asked me to drop by. One drink and we can go.’
‘It’s a small paper. Do you really care that much about them? They’re lucky you write for them, if you ask me.’
Jess smiled. ‘It’s small but Louis lets me cover current affairs and politics and I want to build on that and move away from the lighter, fluffier pieces the bigger papers ask me to do.’ She pulled a face. ‘It’s hard to get taken seriously as a journalist if you’re commenting on the fashion at an awards ceremony.’
Katie looked round the dingy bar, her eyes narrowing as they settled on Jess’s colleagues from the newspaper. ‘Not the friendliest bunch, are they? A couple of women over there are staring at you, and not in a good way; and that guy you introduced me to looked straight at my boobs.’
‘Don’t feel special. Tim’s like that with all women and he’s the religious correspondent.’ Jess smirked. She didn’t comment on her female co-workers. She knew they resented her and she didn’t like to dwell on the reason why.
‘Is the editor nice, at least?’
‘He is.’ Jess smiled, remembering the day she’d stumbled from the hospital after the doctors had explained they didn’t know if Mum would ever wake up, and gone straight to the monthly meeting at the Gazette. She’d sat through it, unable to take anything in. When it was over Louis Healy had taken her aside and asked if everything was okay, and she’d broken down, sobbing. It was embarrassing, crying on your boss’s shoulder just a few weeks into a job, but she was beyond caring. Louis had led her into the privacy of his office and given her a large brandy in a paper cup from a bottle stashed in his filing cabinet.
‘For emergencies,’ he’d said with a grin.
Jess was numb in those first dreadful weeks, going through the motions on automatic pilot, and she’d never forget how kind Louis had been. When she wasn’t by her mother’s bedside, he’d urged her to write, pouring her sadness and loss into her work. It was a welcome distraction and she’d written some of her best pieces during that difficult time.
They started to meet for coffee or a drink outside the office, as Louis was concerned that the other staff would accuse him of giving Jess special treatment. At first, she had thought she’d imagined the lingering looks, the light pressing of cheeks, later accompanied by a kiss to the side of her mouth. Then his hand on her back as he bent over her, studying her copy, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. He was a lot older than she was and not really her type, but, when he finally took her in his arms, it was easier to go along with it than to push him away. She was flattered and comforted by the attention.
‘Can we get out of here now?’ Katie asked, breaking in on her thoughts. ‘You’ve done your duty and I’m starving. Pizza?’
‘Sounds good.’ Jess smiled.
When she finally left Katie, Jess decided to call in on her mum before going home. She had some research to do for a piece she was writing on the price and availability of childcare for a tabloid newspaper, but she wanted to check her mum was doing okay first. Noel was in his final term of university studying engineering and spending most of his time either at lectures or in the library so Suzie was alone much of the time. Jess wondered how long it would be before she stopped worrying about her mum.
‘In here,’ her mother called when Jess let herself in and tossed her coat and bag on the hall table. She followed the sound of the radio and found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, brochures spread out in front of her.
‘Hey.’ Jess kissed her forehead and dropped into a chair. ‘I was out with Katie and just dropped in to say hello on my way home.’
‘Dropped in to check up on me, more like.’
Jess smiled. ‘Someone has to. Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?’
‘I’ve spent enough feckin’ time in bed,’ her mother retorted.
‘What’s all this?’ Jess looked at the flyers and leaflets covering the kitchen table.
‘I’ve decided that I need some hobbies.’
Jess picked up the nearest flyer and looked at her in alarm. ‘Ice-skating? You’re kidding.’
‘It’s okay, I’ve decided against that one. It’s a bit tame.’
‘Tame? You could break your leg or hip.’
‘Christ, I’m forty-eight not eighty-eight,’ her mother growled. ‘Still, I was never the sporty type. This is more my kind of thing.’ She jabbed a finger at another leaflet. ‘I walked miles when I lived in Limerick, mainly to try and get Noel to sleep and because there was feck all else to do.’
‘Hill walking. I suppose it would get you out in the fresh air,’ Jess said, although she’d sleep easier if her mother would just get back into her old routine of knitting and reading.
‘I quite fancy meditation, too.’
Jess’s lips twitched as she took the brochure Suzie handed her. ‘Buddhism?’
‘I always thought it was mumbo-jumbo but I’ve been reading up on it and it sounds fascinating. There are several classes, from meditation to mindfulness to loving kindness. I thought that Sharon might like to come along. Lord knows, she could do with loosening up a bit. It’s as if she’s a poker stuck up her arse.’
Jess grinned. Mum’s tactlessness could be embarrassing, but funny, too. ‘You might want to word it a bit more diplomatically when you speak to Shaz,’ she advised.
‘If I can’t talk straight to my own daughter what’s the world coming to?’ she retorted. ‘All I’m saying is that, if she relaxed a little, she might be able to control her son.’
‘I think that might take a lot of classes,’ Jess mumbled, although she still found her mother’s change in attitude towards her beloved grandchild alarming. She had always doted on Bobby and turned a blind eye to his bad behaviour, much the way Sharon did.
Jess had found out in their teenage years that she had little in common with her sister, who was interested only in clothes, makeup and boys. She couldn’t wait to leave school, just wanting to party and get a boyfriend. The older they became,
the more they clashed, Jess yelling at her sister to turn down the music when she was trying to study and Sharon ignoring her. It had been a relief when Sharon left home and, with some space between them, they got on better – not that they sought out each other’s company.
The devastation of Mum’s accident had probably brought them closer than they’d been since they were children, and her mum was right about one thing: Sharon really did need to learn to relax. The fun-loving teenager had become an anxious young mother who was ruled by her son’s moods.
‘I thought that you might like to do this with me,’ Suzie said.
Jess took the leaflet and laughed. ‘Salsa? I don’t think so.’
‘You were the one who said I should get out more,’ Suzie pointed out with a sulky expression.
Jess rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘I should have known that would come back to haunt me. Yes, you should get out more, but you don’t need me with you. Go with women your own age.’
‘Like who?’ her mother demanded.
Jess cast around for a name and smiled, triumphant. ‘I’m sure Aileen would be interested.’ Her mother’s neighbour was a good mate and always up for a laugh.
‘Aileen has two left feet and not a note in her head. Anyway, she’s coming to the book club with me.’
‘Mum, I’m delighted that you plan to live a fuller life but you don’t have to try everything at once. It’s only a little over two weeks since you left hospital.’
‘I’m bored out of my mind at home all day, twiddling my feckin’ thumbs,’ Suzie complained.
‘Well, what did you do before you hit your head?’
Her mother scowled. ‘Boring crap like weeding, shopping and I knitted a sweater for that ungrateful little bugger who, after a month’s work, said the colour was wrong and the wool made him itchy.’
Jess sighed. She wasn’t close to her nephew and she agreed that he could be a little terror, but it took some getting used to hearing Mum call him such terrible names. She’d always adored her grandson and defended him whenever he was in trouble.
Second Time Around Page 2