Aisling Gayle (56 page)

Aisling thought for a moment. “Oh, you’re Jacinta,” she said, amazed at how normal her voice sounded. Amazed that she could carry on any kind of a conversation at all. “You’re the girl from the drama group. I’m glad to hear that you’re feeling better.”

“Yes,” the girl said, “it’s Jacinta.” Another pause. “Could I ask you a favour, please?”

Aisling frowned. “What is it?”

“It’s just,” the girl hesitated, “that I need some personal toiletries . . . and I hate to ask any of the men to buy them for me. You’re not too far out from the hospital, are you?”

“About a ten-minute cycle,” Aisling said.

“I wonder,” the girl said, “I know it’s a real cheek . . . but I’m desperate. You wouldn’t be able to cycle in with them for me, before the chemist shuts?”

“Do you need them immediately?” Aisling said, sounding surprised.

“I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,” the girl went on quickly. “I wouldn’t ask normally . . . but I’m desperate. There’s nobody else to ask until this evening, and by that time the chemist will be closed.”

Aisling thought for a moment, and then she checked the time on the clock again. “Okay,” she agreed, “what ward are you on?”

The girl gave her directions to the ward and the list of things that she needed, and then she rang off.

Aisling moved quickly, one half of her annoyed at having to go to Tullamore and the other half grateful for something to take her mind off the horrendous news she had received earlier. She scribbled a note for Oliver before leaving, explaining about Jacinta, and saying that there was stew and potatoes over a pan of water that just needed heating up.

She cycled into Tullamore, and headed up the High Street to the chemist shop and collected the items that the girl had asked for. She secured the brown-paper bag in her basket on the front of the bike, then she cycled on up to the hospital, her mind full of Jameson and all the things he’d said. All the lies he’d told her.

Jameson, who was now back in Lake Savannah with Thomas and his ex-wife.

* * *

Aisling found the ward fairly easily, but had to hang around for a few minutes until she found a member of staff to direct her to the room that the girl was in. She checked her watch as she followed the nurse along the corridor. Oliver would be back home by now, and would have got her message. She wondered if he had managed to heat up the meal over the pan of boiling water.

Then, as she followed the nurse along the corridor, she wondered if she were going mad. Wondering about pots of
stew and potatoes
– when her life was falling apart. What did these things matter any more? What did anything matter any more?

As they came up to the room, the nurse said in a low voice,
“It’s nice she has a visitor . . . she’s been very low all day.”

Guilt now tore through all Aisling’s other thoughts, and she knew that she would have to go into the room and face the girl. “To be honest,” Aisling said, “I don’t really know her . . . I’m just bringing her in a few things.”

When she turned in the door of the ward, Aisling recognised Jacinta immediately. She had seen her on stage in the last play that Oliver produced. A petite, attractive, dark-haired girl, with an almost oriental look about her. The girl was sitting up on top of the bed in a matching blue satin dressing-gown and nightdress, reading a magazine. There were three other beds in the room, but there was no one else around.

“Jacinta?” Aisling said, and for some reason another knot started to tie itself in her stomach.

“Is it Aisling?” the girl asked, swinging her legs off to sit on the edge of the bed. When Aisling nodded, she said: “I thought it was you.” She gestured to a chair by the side of the bed. “Come in and sit down.”

“I haven’t really got time.” Aisling explained. “I have to get back home.”

“Sit down for a few minutes,” Jacinta said in a friendly tone, pulling the chair closer to the bed. As she did so, Aisling suddenly noticed that her arm was heavily bandaged from the wrist up.

Aisling placed the chemist’s bag on the bottom of the bed, and sat down. “I hope that’s everything you need.”

Jacinta smiled. “It was very good of you to get them for me.” She reached inside the bag for the receipt, then lifted money from her bedside cabinet and put it down on the bed beside Aisling. “That should cover it all.” She folded her arms and then turned her gaze on Aisling. “I could have really waited until tomorrow for them . . . but I needed an excuse to see you.”

Aisling’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “To see
me?
” she asked.

“I wanted, “ Jacinta said, “to talk to you about me and Oliver.”

“Oh?” Aisling said, tilting her head to the side and waiting. The knot in her stomach had tightened considerably, and the queasy feeling had returned.

“Oliver and I . . .” Jacinta started haltingly, but then moved on more confidently. “I’m sure you already know that Oliver and I have been having an affair.” She looked at Aisling, waiting for her reaction.

Aisling folded her arms and sat back in the chair, waiting.

Jacinta suddenly coloured up. “He told me he was leaving you . . . that we would both go over to England to start a new life.” She brushed her dark hair back off her face, and Aisling suddenly thought that she had been attacked by two women today. Two dark-haired women. First Verity and now this Jacinta girl.

Aisling raised her eyebrows. “You might as well go on.”

“Well,” Jacinta said, getting out of the bed to stand in front of Aisling, “I think I have some news that might shock you. I’m going to have Oliver’s baby – and that means that he’ll have to take responsibility for us both.”

There was a little pause. “And how,” Aisling asked in a calm voice, “does Oliver feel about all this?”

“Actually,” Jacinta said, “Oliver doesn’t know yet . . . but he soon will.”

Then a male voice came from the ward doorway. “What will I soon know, Jacinta?”

And there, framed in the doorway, stood Oliver himself. He came in the room to stand facing the two women – his face chalk-white and with a thunderous look on it.

“I’ve just been telling your wife all about us, Oliver,” Jacinta said, as though she were discussing the weather, “about our affair.”

Two little pulses on either side of Oliver’s forehead began to visibly throb. “Have you now?” he said quietly. “Well, I hope you told her that it finished some time ago, and that you’ve been trying to blackmail me since with all this attempted suicide crap?”

Aisling caught her breath.
Attempted suicides? Pregnancy?
What else was to come today? What more could possibly happen?

Jacinta’s face crumpled and tears started to spill down her pretty cheeks. “How can you say that to me?” she said in a choked voice. “You told me that you would leave her, when she came back from America – and now you’ve chickened out! You fucking coward!”

Oliver shook his head, unperturbed by her outburst. “I only said that to pacify you, because of your threatening suicide!”

Jacinta’s eyes darted from Oliver to Aisling. “Did he tell you about this?” she said, holding up her wrists “I nearly
died!
I could have bled to death – and all because of him” She tapped the side of her head. “He’s got me so mixed up in here, I can’t think straight any more.” Her voice took on a higher pitch. “And what about my nursing career? It could be all over after this . . . and it’s all your fault!”

“Look, Jacinta,” Oliver hissed, “Aisling and I have had our problems . . . but we’re sorting them out.” He turned to Aisling. “Aren’t we, Aisling?” When she didn’t respond, he kept on talking. “We’re going to Marriage Guidance, and this time next year we could be adopting a child.”

“There’s no need to do that, Oliver,” Jacinta said quietly, “because you’re going to have one of your own.” Then, as his eyes were wide with shock, she said, “I was just telling Aisling all about it when you came in. I found out today that I’m pregnant.”

Oliver rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t mind a word of what she says, Aisling . . . she’s mad! She’s making up every word of this, just to split us up.”

Aisling looked at him now. “After what I’ve just heard – I think that might be the one sensible thing left to do.” She stood up now, and made towards the door.

“No, Aisling,” Oliver said, grabbing at her arm. He followed her out into the corridor. “You don’t understand – we can work it out. I’m sorry about all this – but I promise you sincerely that it won’t happen again. Things will be the best they’ve ever been, if you’ll just give me another chance.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I can prove she’s lying – so don’t mind what that eedjit says.”

“I think,” Aisling said, attempting a smile, “that you’ve had quite enough chances. Don’t you?” Her voice was steady and cool.

He stepped back, and looked at her now. “But where will you go?” he asked, a note of confidence in his tone. “You can’t go to the American fellow now – his wife is back living with him.”

“What do you mean?” Aisling’s words were slow and measured.

“The letter,” he said, “the one you tore up in the sitting-room. I read it.” His hand came up to touch the side of her cheek. “Please, Aisling,” he pleaded, “we’ve both made stupid mistakes, but we can learn from them.”

Aisling looked at him. Somewhere at the back of her mind she knew she should feel embarrassment, shock
– something
about Oliver finding Verity’s letter. But she felt nothing. Apart from a numbness and a vague empty feeling.

All these things that had happened in one day. Things that should be shaking her to the core, and still she was standing. Standing facing Oliver now.

“Please, Aisling,” Oliver repeated. “I’ve been doing so much t
hinking about everything recently, and I know that all I want is us to stay together – forever. It’s what your mother – your whole family – would want. And it’s what the Church tells us that we should do. Maybe if we both started all over again . . . following the right things, then we would get it right ourselves.”

“If you had been faithful to me, Oliver,” Aisling whispered, “then none of this would have happened. I would never have gone to America without you if things had been fine between us.”

Oliver’s face dropped. “I’ve said how sorry I am . . . what more can I do?”

There was a silence. Then, hearing Jacinta’s furry mules tapping across the ward floor they turned towards her.

“What about
our
baby, Oliver?” she asked, coming to stand in front of them, hand on hips.

Oliver sighed loudly and threw her a contemptuous look. “Ignore her, Aisling. There’s no way she can be pregnant – I know it for a fact.”

“I am!” Jacinta screeched. “I’m a whole week late – and that’s never happened before.”

Oliver lowered his head so that he was looking directly into the girl’s face. “Shut up! You stupid, stupid girl,” he hissed. “Stop all this silly nonsense! There’s not a chance in a million that you’re expecting – not unless it’s the Immaculate Conception all over again!”

“What d’you mean?” Jacinta whined.

“I mean that it’s not possible for me to get
anyone
in the family way,” Oliver said angrily. “I had a little operation done a few years ago – to make sure this sort of thing couldn’t happen.”

Aisling looked at him in bewilderment. “What did you just say, Oliver?”

“I had a sterilisation operation – a vasectomy – done over in England a couple of years ago – when I was going back and forward on business,” he told her. Then, when he
saw the horror spread on her face, he rushed on. “It was when things were desperate between us – and I had
this situation,
” He threw a dismissive hand in Jacinta’s direction, “happen before. Another silly girl trying to pin something on me – so I decided to sort it out. It was something I did on the spur of the moment –”

“How could you?” Aisling gasped. “You let me think it was all my fault . . .”

“I don’t know what made me do it . . .” Oliver’s voice trailed off weakly. “It was this fellow I knew who’d just had it done . . . and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Later, I realised what an eedjit I was . . .” Then, Oliver suddenly saw something in Aisling’s eyes that made him take a step backwards. “I’m sorry, Aisling . . . honest to God, I am. If we get accepted for adopting, maybe it would make up for all this . . .”

“The only thing that you’re sorry about,” Aisling said quietly, “is that you’ve been found out once again.” She inched closer to him. “Or are you sorry that I’ve found out that our whole marriage has been a sham? A lie? All those years believing that we couldn’t have children because of me. Feeling that I was a failure . . .” Her unspoken words hung in the air.

Oliver just stood there, totally bereft of a soothing word for once.

And as Aisling looked at him, she saw for the very first time what a shallow, weak man he was. And she knew now that she was finished with him. Whatever happened now, and whatever her mother or anyone else had to say – she was finished with him.

“I want you to know now, Oliver, that I’ll never forgive you. Never! Our marriage is dead and gone.” She managed a smile. A small, bitter smile. “It doesn’t matter about having someone else to go to. I’d be much better on my own, or even back at my parents’ house than living a lie with you.”