Feels Like Maybe

by Claire Allan

  “Heather will be here soon. I can’t let her see me like this.” “What’s wrong, Beth? Did you have a row with Dan? Are you sick? Have you gambled all our money away so that we have to go on the game? Because frankly my body’s not up to much these days.”

  “Nor’s mine,” she said dejectedly, wiping her streaked make-up off.

  Confusion must have been written all over my face as she turned to me, took a deep breath and said: “I’m fine, honest. It’s just a horrible bout of PMT. You know what a wreck I am when my period arrives.” Her voice wavered a little.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she replied, slicking on some lip-gloss. “Now let me see my gorgeous girl.”

  And Beth was back – happy, smiley, reliable Beth.

  *****

  I would be lying if I said the episode didn’t unsettle me. All sorts of scenarios ran through my head, especially the thought that perhaps something could be up with her and Dan. I liked things to be nice and simple in my world. My mum was forever to be strange, Anna was forever to be kind and squashy to hug and Beth – Beth was always, absolutely always supposed to be deliriously in love with Dan.

  I’d spent time with this couple, from the days when they would snog in public and perhaps even feel each other up because they were just so young and in love they couldn’t help it, right through to the stage where they bumped along nicely together, the shining example of what I wanted in a relationship.

  Surely I had to be getting this all wrong. Maybe Beth did just have horrendous PMT. After all, Mrs Morelli had told me just how tired she was lately and the shop was exceptionally busy. I promised myself to do more. When Maggie slept I could saunter down the stairs and help Beth with ideas for schemes and proposals. I could answer the phone when necessary, freeing up time for Heather to accompany Beth out to clients.

  I wasn’t ready to give up this most precious of times with Maggie just yet – and if I’m honest I wasn’t physically up to giving my maternity leave up for good – but I could eek a bit of time out for Beth – surely that was the least I could do.

  When Maggie was sleeping, I lifted her monitor and walked down the stairs to tell Beth of my plan. She was sitting at her desk, staring into space. Mrs Morelli was right, Beth did look tired.

  “Hey, sweetie, are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m always okay,” she said, still staring. “How are you?”

  “Grand.”

  “So was Ireland really that bad?”

  “It wasn’t the worst. I mean I didn’t really expect much from Mum and she delivered that not very much for me.”

  “She’ll come round though.”

  “Aye, some time in the future I’m sure she will. I don’t really want to think about it too much though.”

  And I didn’t. While I felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders when I made the decision to come back and get on with my life, there was a wee part of me screaming inside that it wasn’t fair. I pulled up a seat beside Beth and sat down.

  Beth would usually have started chattering away by now, telling me everything from what went on at her latest appointment to what Dan had for tea the night before, but she sat, still staring, twiddling a sample of fabric in the fingers of her left hand. Her eyes were dark, shaded circles showing just how much she had been crying.

  “You might hate me for asking this,” I started, “but is everything okay with you and Dan?”

  “You would love it if it weren’t, wouldn’t you?” she snapped. “Ever since you split up with Jake you can’t abide to see me happy, but sorry to disappoint you, Aoife, everything is just fucking peachy, thank you.”

  “I didn’t . . . I wouldn’t . . . I can’t believe . . .” My mouth flapped open and closed, no sound coming out.

  Of all the shocks of the last year, this was perhaps the biggest. I just could not believe for one second that Beth would think I intentionally wished her and Dan anything other than happiness. Tears stung in my eyes and I was just about to launch into a snottery sobby chorus of why it was exceptionally unfair of Beth to even let that thought cross her mind, even for one wee tiny second, when the bell above the door pinged and Beth jumped to attention for our customer. I, on the other hand, walked back upstairs and sat with my head in my hands, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  The night Beth and Dan had got engaged, I had cried buckets of happy tears. Jake had been quite worried at one point and kept telling me to pull myself together. I doubt I have ever been so happy for two people. They deserved to be together and to have the best that life could offer them.

  Beth and I had guzzled champagne and giggled over the ring all night while Jake had taken great joy in referring to Dan as the condemned man.

  Every detail of their wedding had been discussed at length on the daybed, from the chair covers to the fairy lights twinkling overhead at the marquee. Dan had joked that I knew so much about the wedding that it was a wonder Beth hadn’t invited me on the honeymoon with them.

  “No offence, Irish,” he had said, nuzzling into Beth’s neck one night, “but I want the future Mrs Jones to myself for those two weeks.”

  “Apart from all the phone calls I’ll make,” Beth had giggled.

  “Who said you’ll have a chance to get near a phone?” Dan had countered with a cheeky grin and the two of them melted into each other’s arms.

  And that’s how it always had been and my stupid grin in response to their general in-love-ness had always been there.

  I didn’t want them to split up. I wanted them to be happy but I didn’t think any more, or even one wee second, that everything was just fucking peachy, thank you.

  The kettle was boiling when I heard a knock at the door and then Beth’s voice call out, asking if she could come in for a chat.

  I grunted a response – not very adult of me, I’ll admit – but I had to show her how hurt I was.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

  “And so you should be. How could you think such a thing?”

  “I don’t. At least I don’t think I do. I don’t know what I think any more.”

  “Beth, please talk to me. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

  She shook her head, opened her mouth as if she was about to say something and then shook her head again. “I’m just really tired, Aoife. I never realised how tough running this place on my own would be.”

  “But you have Heather?” I offered, lifting an extra cup from the cupboard and dropping a tea bag into it.

  “She’s a nice enough girl, but the words chocolate and fireguard come to mind. She just doesn’t get my vision the way you do, Aoif.”

  “Look, I’ve been thinking,” I said, adding the milk to the cups. “I’m going to help out more. Maggie is still sleeping a stupid amount of the time, and there is no reason why she can’t sleep in her pram and I can answer the phones, do a little ordering or help you discuss projects.”

  Beth nodded. “That would help. God, how pathetic am I? I can’t even cope with running the business on my own for a month.”

  “No harm in asking for a bit of support, sweetie. God knows I’ve had your ear bent enough over the last year.”

  I handed her a cup of tea, and she smiled a watery half smile.

  “Can we please be friends,” she said, “and can you forget what an awful bitch I was just then?”

  “Of course, Beth.” I answered, and all was right with the world again.

  So we sat down and I launched into chapter and verse about my pant moustache and the growing bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep.

  *****

  Later that evening, when Beth had gone home and I had managed to survive another breast-feed without having someone to run and fetch me water and chocolate, I decided it was time to stir things up.

  It had been approximately thirty-seven minutes since I’d allowed a thought of Jake to run through my head so I knew it was time for action. I was back i
n London. He was, I guessed, also in London and there was no reason therefore in my mind why the pair of us could not be in London together. He had a right, nay an obligation, to meet his daughter and I too had a right to stand over him looking ‘not bad’ and boasting about how magnificently we were coping without him.

  The only fly in the Sudocrem was that I kind of needed Dan to do that initial bit of detective work for me again. I had sent a text to Jake as soon as we had touched back down on English soil and so far had heard nothing, but I knew Dan would at least be able to get a message to a third party who could in turn contact Jake and get him to pull the finger out and come over and see us.

  However, given that I was now concerned that Dan could well be in the same highly emotional state as Beth, I didn’t want to act as though I didn’t give two flying fecks. I would have to approach this carefully indeed.

  I picked up the phone and dialled Dan’s number. He answered, his voice as chirpy as always.

  “Hey, Dan. It’s Aoife. How are you?” In my best Denise Richards from This Morning caring voice.

  “Hey, Irish,” he said back, not a hint of emotional turmoil in his voice. “Nice to have you back. Things are fine here, busy as always, you know the craic.”

  Dan loved the word craic and used it whenever he could. In fact he was one of the few English people who could use it without sounding as if they were trying too hard. Dan would not use the word craic unless things were okay in his world.

  I was now more confused than ever. In fact, I was so confused that his jovialness kind of threw me. I had planned to have my sympathetic head on my shoulders for the duration of this phone call. Now it would seem I didn’t need it. Perhaps Beth was just overtired after all.

  “So, Dan, you probably know why I’m phoning.”

  “Before you start, sweetheart, I spoke to Jake this morning. He’s off in Germany at the moment, but will be back in a few days. He does want to see you – but I’m saying this as your friend, remember what a wanker he is. You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to.”

  “He’s the father of my child, Dan. He has rights.”

  “Any man who can walk away from his child has no rights in my mind,” Dan seethed.

  “Imagine you saying that, in your big Fancy Dan lawyer’s office!” I smiled. “What would your bosses say?”

  “Just my opinion, Aoife. You, and Maggie, are better off without him. He’s a fecking gobshite.”

  Bless Dan’s little heart, he could even swear in Irish. “I know, Dan. But we need to sort this out. There is so much unfinished business between us, not least Maggie. All I’ve ever wanted out of this is one more chance to chat.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him to ring you and make the appropriate arrangements. I can be there, Beth can too, if you want. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “Thanks, but I’m a big girl now and as my darling mother has said, I’ve made my bed. I might as well lie in it.”

  “Well, you know where we are if you change your mind.”

  I smiled. It was nice to feel loved, but that nagging feeling still wouldn’t go away. “Dan,” I asked, “is everything okay with Beth? She seems a little down today.”

  He sighed, one of those bottom-of-your-boots sighs that let you know without doubt that you are about to be lied to. “She is fine, Aoife. Just tired.”

  “You would tell me if something was wrong? I mean, I know I’m a hormonal time-bomb at the moment, but if there is anything I can do?”

  “She’s just tired, Aoife, honestly. She needs to take it easier.”

  I knew not to push it any more so we said our goodbyes and I realised that I was officially done with maternity leave. Beth needed me almost as much as the wee woman sleeping in the Moses basket did.

  

  Chapter 27

  Beth

  I was perhaps losing the plot. I rubbed my eyes, staring at the computer screen again and again without seeing what was glaring at me from the screen.

  I had managed to offend Aoife, break a glass, throw a mental hissy fit and slap Dan. Jesus, I had slapped Dan. Did that make me a husband-beater? I have never raised my hand to him ever, ever before. I have never raised my hand to anyone. I can’t explain it. A red mist descended and I wasn’t in control any more. This was not right. Nothing about this was right.

  I was used to getting what I wanted and what I worked for. I grew up relatively privileged – my own room, my own phone, my own car when I turned seventeen. But my parents had also taught me to work hard to reap rewards, so I did it. I played the good girl. I studied hard, worked hard and I got my rewards. I had my business, myflash car and my gorgeous apartment. I didn’t feel guilty about what I had because I knew everything was hard won. So why now, when I was working hard at it and doing everything the right way, wasn’t I getting the one thing I really wanted?

  I wanted to stomp my feet with the unfairness of it all.

  I had hit him. I can’t believe I had hit him. He was the one person I didn’t want to hurt. He was the one person who knew how much I wanted this and he was the one person who wanted it just as much as me. I couldn’t have felt more wretched if he had come and hit me himself.

  His eyes had been so cold as he walked out of the flat. I had seen it creep in. I had seen the sympathy waver and the contempt increase. This was no good. This was not how it was supposed to be. Dan was supposed to be my rock and here I was pushing him away.

  “You stupid fucking bitch!” I chided myself, a little too loudly and just in time to see Tom Austin standing in front of me, a quizzical look on his face.

  “Jesus, do you never knock?” I blurted.

  “I didn’t think I needed to knock in a shop,” he smiled and I felt myself blush.

  “Well, can I help you?” I stuttered, trying and failing to hide my embarrassment.

  “I just wanted to ask if you could put some of my leaflets in the shop. Business is a little quiet given the time of year.”

  I nodded. “Okay, if you advertise us in return.”

  “It’s a deal,” he said, outstretching a strong, rough hand to me. I noticed there was a single-stem ivory rose in his other hand – and I started to blush even more furiously.

  “I’m married, you know,” I said, shaking his hand.

  “That’s lovely,” he said, his face once again a picture of confusion.

  I glanced downwards at the rose and his face reddened.

  “Oh this,” he said. “Erm, sorry, but could you leave this for your friend? The one with the baby? I saw her in the coffee shop earlier so I know she is back. I thought she could do with a little confidence boost.”

  If ever there was a moment when I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole, or that aliens would abduct me, or that the world would come to an end in a cataclysmic explosion of immense proportion – that was that moment.

  “Of course,” I stuttered. “I’ll give to her later. She’s upstairs with the baby now. Her baby. She has a baby. But you know that, you saw the baby. But she’s not married. Not that you have to be married these days. Well, she would have loved to be married but . . .”

  Tom was laughing now, a hearty laugh that cut through my babbling and made me laugh uproariously too.

  “You have a very pretty smile,” he said.

  I grinned back at him, just before looking over his shoulder to see a rather unimpressed Dan standing in the doorway.

  “Dan,” I said, ignoring the fact that the first thing I should be saying to him was sorry, “this is Tom, the mad stalker guy I was telling you about.”

  Tom looked at me, laughing all the harder which of course made me take a fit of the giggles I couldn’t quite shake.

  “I mean, the gardener. He is the gardener – from Gardiner Street – isn’t that good? Imagine? I wonder if there is an Instant Karma Street?”

  “Are you drunk?” Dan deadpanned, and the laughter that had been pouring from me stepped up a notch.

  “I’m sorry,” T
om said. “It’s my fault. I came to ask this lady, who I’m guessing isyour wife, if she would display some leaflets for my business.”

  Dan glanced down at the rose, his eyebrow raised just that little bit.

  “Oh this,” Tom said “is for the lady who lives upstairs. The one with the baby?”

  “The one with the baby,” I repeated as tears of laughter coursed down my cheeks.

  

  Chapter 28

  Aoife

  The sound of laughter intrigued me.Maggie was having a little kick about in her Moses basket so I lifted the monitor and padded down the stairs. When I opened the door I saw Beth and a stranger – no, not a stranger, the man from the coffee shop who told me I was amazing – laughing as if Dan, who looked pissed off, had just told them the funniest joke in the world. I glanced at Matilda – she seemed to have a sly smile on her face.

  They didn’t notice me at first, and I stood and watched them. It was such a stark contrast to earlier when Beth had been almost inconsolable with misery. It dawned on me it was a stark contrast to how Beth had been generally over the last few weeks, or maybe even months.

  Coffee Shop Man noticed me first. He stopped laughing, but kept smiling and put his hand out to Beth’s shoulder to let her know someone else had entered the room. The gesture seemed to make Dan look even more pissed off.

  “Is everything okay down here?” I asked.

  Beth and Mr Coffee Shop nodded, red-faced, while Dan said nothing, choosing to stare at his shoes instead.

  “Hi,” Mr Coffee Shop said, waving a single ivory rose in my direction.

  I was confused, very confused. I felt as if I was walking into some weird and sick soap opera where nothing made sense any more. Was there something going on between Beth and this handsome stranger? Did that explain what I had seen earlier that day? My brain was running at ninety miles a minute, jumping to every conclusion in the book. I must have looked demented as I stared from one to the other of them, trying to make some sense of it all.