Two For Joy (27 page)

‘Why did you cheat on Dad?' Lorna's curiosity got the better of her. Looking at her mother, shaken out of her usual poise, unsure and apprehensive, Lorna felt a wave of remorse for being such a bitch.

‘I'm sorry, Mum, I should never have said what I said. I hadn't planned to say it, it just sort of … sort of … burst out of me, I don't know why,' she said gruffly.

‘Oh Lorna!' Jane came and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘What have I done to you? I'm so,
so
sorry.' She hung her head and started to cry again, her thin, angular shoulders shaking.

Lorna swallowed hard. She didn't like seeing her mother in such distress. She was used to a poised, controlled, almost distant woman who flitted in and out of her life between social engagements and lunches with her well-heeled friends.

‘Stop crying, Mum. Everyone will be home soon and we don't want them to … well … well, we don't want them to know anything,' she said awkwardly, giving her mother a tentative pat on the shoulder. Jane wiped her eyes with the back of her hand in a vulnerable gesture that Lorna found strangely endearing.

‘Look, we won't mention it again,' she said firmly, feeling more like the parent than the child but rather liking the feeling of being in control.

‘I'd like to … I think I should give you some sort of explanation.' Jane cleared her throat. Lorna bit her lip, embarrassed. This wasn't the sort of conversation she wanted to be having with her mother.

‘You don't have to.'

Jane sighed. ‘I think it's the least I owe you. It's not that I didn't have feelings for your father. I'm very fond of him. But I made a mistake when I married him.' Her eyes took on a faraway look. ‘I thought it would be so different, I thought he would be ambitious. As ambitious as I was. I didn't think we'd end up staying here.' She managed a twisted little smile. ‘I was like you in that regard, I couldn't wait to shake the dust of Kilronan off my feet but it never happened for me. Your dad didn't want to practise in Dublin. He never really wanted to practise law anyway, he wanted to be a vet, of all things.' She met Lorna's eye. ‘Could you imagine me as a vet's wife?'

‘Not really.' Lorna gave a shaky smile.

‘It hasn't been easy, Lorna. Not on me and certainly not on Gerard. He knows he's failed me, he knows I'm disappointed at the way our life worked out. And when I was younger … and more resentful, I did meet someone, exciting, successful, who was interested in me. I'm sorry you saw what you saw.' She ran her fingers through her fine, highlighted hair.

‘What happened to him?' Lorna was curious in spite of herself.

Jane shrugged. ‘He got bored after a while and moved on to his next conquest. I was just a bit of a diversion for him, looking back.' She couldn't hide the bitterness in her voice and Lorna felt uncharacteristically sympathetic towards her mother. What a sad, lonely, empty life she'd led. Unfulfilled and unhappy. Lorna made a silent vow not to end up like Jane.

‘Em … Lorna, if what you saw affected you to such a degree, would you … I don't know … would you consider counselling?' Jane blurted.

‘Maybe it will be better now that we've talked,' Lorna murmured. ‘Forget it, Mum. I think that's the best thing for both of us.'

‘I don't want you to be miserable because of me, listen to me now. I want you to have a
happy
life, Lorna. I want you to have the life that I didn't have, please don't let anything I did ruin it for you.'

‘I do have a good life,' Lorna lied.

‘Well, have an even better one, then. Don't ever let anything or anyone hold you back,' her mother urged.

‘I won't, Mum. I'm sorry if I upset you. I really didn't mean to. I don't know what came over me. It must have been PMT or something.'

Jane got up and stood in front of her daughter. In a rare display of tenderness she reached down and stroked Lorna's cheek. ‘No, dear. I'm the sorry one. You'll never know how sorry I am that I put you through this. I hope you can forgive me.'

‘I do, Mum. I do,' Lorna said fiercely as she pressed her mother's hand tighter to her cheek. Mother and daughter had never felt so close as they did at that moment and for Lorna, it was as though a huge burden had been lifted from her. Maybe Christmas wasn't going to be such a disaster after all.

21

Oliver's palms were damp with sweat as he locked hard and reversed into a parking space between two cars. The drive to Dublin had seemed to take an eternity. His heart was like a lead weight and his stomach was tight with anxiety. He had never been so nervous in his life. He switched off the engine and looked around. Three-storey redbrick houses lined the street. Bare branched trees dropped snow on to the bonnet of his car. Buses and lorries trundled past and in the distance he could see the gates leading into the Phoenix Park.

The gleaming gold plaque on the gate opposite him told him he was at the surgery of Doctor Miles Lawson, M.B., B.C.H., B.A.O., D.Obs., M.R.C.G.P. He had scoured the Golden Pages looking for a male doctor handy enough to the M50. The idea of going for a walk in the Phoenix Park after his ordeal appealed to him, so Miles Lawson it was.

His appointment was for ten fifteen. It was five minutes past ten. He'd told Noreen he was going to a business meeting. She knew it was something out of the ordinary because he'd dressed in a suit, but because the atmosphere between them was still extremely frosty, she hadn't pursued it. He sighed deeply. She was still sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms and every time he tried to apologize she said curtly, ‘I don't want to talk about it.' So he'd given up. He could be as stubborn as she was.

Christmas had been a miserable affair. He was glad it was over. She'd hardly looked at the gold earrings he'd bought her and when he'd thanked her for the leather jacket she'd bought him she'd ignored him.

He'd never been so glad in his life to see the festive season end and get back to work. Maybe if he went and got this bloody sperm test thing done, she might soften towards him and life could get back to normal. And then he'd never open his big mouth again, he vowed as he got out of the car and reluctantly walked to the door. A tired-looking receptionist took his name. ‘Oh yes, you're a new patient. I'll just take your details if you don't mind. Please sit down.' Oliver sat. He could see that there were two other people in the waiting-room. He could be here for another three-quarters of an hour at least, he thought glumly as he gave his date of birth and tried to remember whether he'd had mumps, measles and chickenpox. He could remember the mumps, they'd been bloody painful. He'd got them in his teens and been in agony for a week.

‘And have you ever been hospitalized?' the receptionist asked in a bored tone.

‘No.' Oliver was tempted to tell her not to bother asking him any more questions. Once he'd got the letter for his test and everything was OK he wouldn't be coming back here again, but he restrained himself, and kept answering the questions.

By the time he finally got in to see the doctor he felt he was going to have a heart attack. He was rigid with anxiety and was perspiring freely. Doctor Lawson was a plump, bespectacled man in a tweed jacket. He smelt of pipe smoke and Oliver felt himself relax a little.

‘Mr Flynn.' He glanced at the file in front of him. ‘Oliver, take a seat there.' He reached over his desk and shook hands. His hands were stubby, but his grip was firm.

‘So, Oliver. What can I do for you?' He leaned back in his worn leather chair and peered over his bifocals at Oliver.

Oliver cleared his throat. ‘Well, ahh … that is … er…' Oliver wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. ‘Well, my wife wants me to have a test,' he gulped. ‘We've been trying for a baby, and nothing's happening,' he added lamely.

‘I see,' Doctor Lawson said calmly. ‘And how long have you been trying?'

‘Well over a year,' Oliver said miserably. ‘I didn't want to go to the doctor at home, my wife's a nurse, she works for him. I didn't want him to … I just preferred to go to someone out of town.' He felt the need to explain.

‘That's fine, Oliver,' Doctor Lawson said kindly. ‘I quite understand. I just need to ask you a few questions. Let's see if we can get this matter sorted. It's a good idea for the man to get tested and evaluated first. Much less invasive than what a woman has to undergo. It's a very simple procedure: you can go and get it over and done with today if you want. I'll give you a letter for the Rotunda Hospital for a semen analysis. You just go to the laboratory reception desk. They will give you a container, you go into the loo and give a sample. If you lived nearby you could do it at home, but unfortunately they need the sample within two hours. It's quite straightforward though.'

Oliver felt his tension rise again. He hadn't expected this. He thought he'd be waiting a week or so to get an appointment, thought he'd have time to prepare himself for the next ordeal. Still, maybe it was better to get it all over and done with. He wouldn't be going for any walk in the Phoenix Park, he thought ruefully as he paid his bill.

An hour later he was standing in a tiled hospital toilet cubicle with a sterile container in his hand, his trousers and underpants down around his ankles. He'd never been so mortified in his life, going up to the girl in the lab reception area with his letter of referral. Even now his face was hot with embarrassment. He was sure everyone outside knew what he was doing, or trying to do. He scowled and looked down at himself. Dead as a dodo and not a sign of life. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat. Why in the name of God was he standing here? He felt a huge surge of resentment towards Noreen. No point in thinking of her, she wouldn't do it for him the way he was feeling at the moment. He better do something, he couldn't stand here all day. The sooner it was over and done with the better and that was it. He'd done his bit, Noreen would have to put up with the consequences. He closed his eyes and thought of flame-haired Kate, took a deep breath, and got down to the business of providing a sample that would tell whether he'd been shooting blanks or not.

*   *   *

Noreen removed the protective cover from around Mrs Delahunty's neck and handed her a sheaf of tissue to wipe around her ears.

‘I thought I was going deaf, couldn't hear my mobile. Thank God it was only wax,' she twittered as she took out her compact and dusted down her heavily rouged cheeks. ‘Thanks for syringing me, Nurse Flynn. Send me the bill please, I don't have any cash on me at the moment.'

Mean old bat,
Noreen thought grumpily as she watched her patient totter out of the door on impossibly high heeled boots. Her boxy fur jacket, which had seen better days, and the skirt that showed far too much of her bony, skinny shanks were totally inappropriate for the wintry weather. Mrs D, as she was known in the town, was notoriously tight-fisted and renowned for not paying her bills promptly.

Noreen glanced out the window. The garden was covered in a fresh mantle of snow. Hedgerows and branches iced with a powdery coating. It was quiet out in the surgery, only the diehards like Mrs D and a few flu sufferers braving the weather. It was good to be back at work and in a routine again, she reflected as she tidied up and sterilized her instruments. Better than sitting wallowing in despair at home. She couldn't get Oliver's words out of her head. Why had he said them to her? Didn't he know how much they would hurt her? Had he
wanted
to hurt her? Over and over she tormented herself with questions to which she had no answer. Maybe it was his way of getting back at her for all the pressure she was putting on him about having a baby. But he didn't understand. He didn't know what need and want drove her. No one knew, it was her burden and she carried it alone.

He'd been all dressed up this morning in his good suit. He'd muttered something about going to a meeting but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking who it was with, although she was curious. Oliver didn't often dress up in his good gear, which was a pity. He looked extremely well in his suit. His lean frame carried it well. The leather jacket she'd bought him looked great too, although she hadn't told him that. He'd worn it on Stephen's Day when they'd taken Cora to visit her sister and she'd felt he was trying to make amends. She knew she'd hurt him by hardly looking at the earrings he'd bought her. But she'd wanted to hurt him. Her eyes darkened. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her.

Those four caustic words, ‘Because you asked me', were gouged into her heart and as long as she lived she didn't think that she was ever going to be able to put them out of her mind. She was as lonely as hell sleeping in the back bedroom, but it was better than lying stiff and tense beside him, the air frosted with the resentment that was always between them these days. If Cora knew their present situation she'd be delighted. She'd had the knives out for Noreen from the first time Oliver had brought her home. If their marriage broke up, there'd be no happier woman in the universe.

‘Don't think like that,' she muttered. It was unthinkable. She and Oliver would weather the storm, eventually. She just wasn't ready to forgive, let alone forget, yet.

*   *   *

Oliver sat in a smoke-filled restaurant close to the hospital wolfing down a fry-up. He took a drink of hot, sweet tea and for the first time that day started to relax. He'd done it. Got the doctor's letter of referral, presented himself at the hospital and performed as required. He hoped he never had to go through a day like it again. It had been the most embarrassing day of his life. He took another gulp of tea, which tasted like nectar.

He was glad he hadn't gone to Douglas Kennedy. Not that he had anything against the man. He was a good enough doctor and had dealt with Oliver competently on the rare occasions he needed him but it would have just been too mortifying to have to answer the kind of intimate personal questions Miles Lawson had asked him. Imagine meeting him in a social situation afterwards! Noreen would probably have a fit when she found out that he'd gone to a stranger but let her, at least he'd gone and had the bloody test done for her.