Putting Out the Stars (35 page)

‘What?’ He looked at her in dismay. ‘I thought your day off was Thursday – that’s why I booked them for Wednesday night – damn.’

He looked so crestfallen, Ruth wanted to laugh. Trust him to forget which day she had off – he really could be awfully absent-minded sometimes. She smiled up at him. ‘Don’t
worry – I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Helen won’t mind me changing, just for one week. She’s so easygoing.’ She looked down at the tickets again. Dear Andrew
– he’d been so thoughtful; and
The Faith Healer
was one of her favourite plays. Mam and Dad would be delighted with the night out – and Irene too, she was sure.

A thought struck her. ‘Why don’t you come too? We could go with Mam and Dad – Irene wouldn’t have to go – or we could get an extra ticket for her. You could get
Thursday off, couldn’t you?’

He shook his head. ‘I’d love to, but I can’t; it’s going to be mad at work all next week – the auditors are due and it’s all hands on deck. I’ll
probably be working late a couple of nights as it is.’

‘Oh, right. Well, no harm – we’ll certainly use them ourselves.’ She put her arms around him. ‘Thanks, darling, it was very sweet of you. I’ll talk to Helen
tomorrow.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Now, be quick if you want a shower – dinner’s ready.’ She listened to the running water upstairs – was he whistling? She smiled
as she took the potatoes over to the sink to drain, and thought of going up to Dublin again, much earlier than she’d expected.

Then another thought occurred to her: she could tell them when she was up. A bit sooner than she’d planned, but she didn’t think she could meet them and not say it. She imagined
their reactions, and her smile widened.

But she wouldn’t tell Andrew yet. She wanted the moment to be just perfect when she did that.

Laura sat back and studied Breffni’s expression. ‘Stop looking so shocked.’

‘Sorry – I’m not shocked really . . . well, no, actually I am.’ Breffni leant forward, elbows propped on the table. ‘I had no idea, Laur – you never said a
word.’

‘I know, I . . . just couldn’t. It was the one thing I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone – least of all someone with a baby, I suppose.’

‘But this is me; I’m not anyone – and I’m not just “someone with a baby”.’

‘I know.’ Laura leant towards her. ‘Look, don’t be hurt. I didn’t even talk about it to Donal for ages, which was pretty pathetic, when you think about it.
It’s not as if he wasn’t involved.’

Breffni took Laura’s hand. ‘I’m not hurt – I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be your best friend. I should have guessed.’

‘No, don’t be daft – how could you? It’s not something you can figure out – no outward signs to be seen. Although sometimes I felt that everyone must guess, it felt
so important to me. I’d see all these babies everywhere I looked, and I’d wonder if the mothers knew how jealous I was of them.’

She was so relieved to be able to talk about it at last. It was as if a giant stone had been lifted off her, and she could breathe happily again after years of gasping and choking. She picked up
a slice of pizza and bit into it, relishing the sweetness of the pineapple and the creaminess of the warm mozzarella – even her appetite had come rushing back. She’d put on two pounds
in a week.

‘So – what’s the next step then?’ Breffni emptied the last of her beer into the glass. ‘Have you any timescale?’

Laura chewed and swallowed. ‘Actually, it could start quite soon; within a few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.’

‘God – that quick? You mean, you could be pregnant in a month’s time?’

Laura laughed at her excited expression. ‘Calm down, will you? In theory, yes, I could get pregnant the first time; but the gynaecologist warned us that it could take much longer –
as much as ten tries, which would be ten months.’

‘But she’s saying that you will conceive eventually?’

‘Well, I suppose nothing’s certain, but I seem to be functioning normally – ovulating and everything – so there’s no reason why I shouldn’t get pregnant. I
suppose I’ve as good a chance as anyone now.’ Laura picked up her beer glass. ‘Better make the most of this, while I still can.’

‘Absolutely – in fact . . .’ Breffni raised her empty bottle and held two fingers up to the barman, who nodded over at her.

‘Just a quick one, so – I’ve to go back to work.’ She’d phoned the publishers and crawled a bit – used Donal’s accident as part of her excuse, which she
felt slightly guilty about – and managed to get one last extension on the deadline, and since then she’d been working flat out to get the illustrations done. She picked a pineapple
chunk from the last slice of pizza. ‘So, lady of leisure, what are you doing for the rest of the day?’

Breffni shrugged. ‘Oh, no big plans. I’ll shop for a bit, and then call over and see Mam and Dad for tea. I’ve told Cian I might even stay the night – Dad hasn’t
been that well lately, and Mam could do with a break. Granny Mary is sleeping over with Cian and Poll, just in case.’

‘Well, give a ring later on if you’re staying in Limerick – I could call over and see your folks. It’s ages since I met them.’

‘Actually, Laur, I might not, if you don’t mind. If Dad isn’t feeling great, I’m hoping Mam will take an early night with me there. And to be honest, I could do with an
early night myself – haven’t been sleeping all that well.’

‘Oh, poor you. Well, tell them I said hello.’

Then the beers arrived, and Phil the barman, who knew Laura from coming in for lunch, distracted them for a while.

Paul looked up as the kitchen doors opened. ‘Hey, the warrior returns.’ He walked over and clapped Donal on the back. ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Grand – never better.’ And he did look good. The cuts had healed, and the plaster cast was finally off – which meant that he could cycle again, and cook again.

And Laura was happier, which was all that mattered. The haunted look he’d tried not to see was gone from her eyes. She was eating properly again, and working again. And they were OK
again.

He still felt like a failure, and a fraud. Still hated that it was his fault she’d had to go through so much – and that she would never discover the whole truth. Hated that he could
never tell her, never. Whatever happened in the future, whatever joy, or fresh sorrow, lay ahead of them, she could never know.

It was something he’d have to live with; and he would live with it. He’d managed to bury it deep, years ago, and he could shove it way down again now, and never think about it any
more. He’d survive.

And this time next year, incredibly, he might be looking forward to becoming a father. After he’d accepted, years ago, that it could never happen to him. How lucky was he?

‘Right; time I started earning my keep around here.’ He grabbed his apron from the hook and followed Paul over to the stoves.

And Ruth, on the train to Dublin, suddenly looked up from her magazine and said ‘oh’, and stayed staring straight in front of her, mouth slightly open, eyes
unblinking, for a long time after that.

Frank placed his knife and fork side by side on his plate, empty except for a sprig of dill. ‘Well, I’m glad you persuaded me to try the fish; it certainly was
delicious.’

‘You should listen to me, Frank; I’m always telling you.’ Cecily smiled across at him, and Frank thought again how attractive she was when she forgot to keep what he privately
called her ‘correct’ face on.

‘And how was your lamb?’

‘Lovely.’ She put down her cutlery and dabbed at her lips. ‘Very tender.’

She hadn’t mentioned seeing him in town the other day; he might wonder why she hadn’t made her presence known. She’d left the place herself as soon as she could after that,
making some excuse to Emily about expecting Andrew to call around. Imagine being so snobby –
not our type
, indeed. What gave Emily the right to pass judgement on such a kind, caring
man? Cecily wondered what she had ever seen in Emily, with her notions of grandeur.

She glanced around the room as Frank looked at the dessert menu – such a sweet tooth he had; thank goodness he’d long since given up trying to persuade her to have something too.
She’d never had much of a taste for sweet things, even as a child. The only –

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt as a man walked into the dining room. He was immediately approached by a waiter, who exchanged a few words with him before leading him to a table by the
window, on the far side of the restaurant from where Cecily and Frank were seated.

Andrew. What on earth was Andrew doing out on a Wednesday night? Hadn’t they told her at dinner the evening before that Ruth was going to Dublin today? Maybe he was meeting someone from
work, grabbing the chance while he was free – but what had brought him out to this hotel, half an hour from the city? She saw him glance casually around and lowered her head quickly, took up
her water glass and sipped.

‘Would you like anything else, dear?’ Frank, attentive as ever.

She shook her head, keeping it turned as much away from the front of the room as possible. ‘No, thank you.’

As Frank looked down at the menu again, she dared a quick glance over. Andrew was looking out the window, chin on hand, elbow on the table. A menu sat unopened in front of him. Waiting for
someone, surely.

And as Cecily watched, Laura’s friend came in and walked straight over to his table. And in front of the entire restaurant he stood and kissed her deeply, hands cradling her head, before
helping her off with her coat.

And Cecily, dumbfounded, thought,
so that problem wasn’t solved, after all.