With All My Love (24 page)

‘Well now, no wonder you’re looking a bit portly, and a bit peaky too, deah. It’s
imperative
that you take a nap in the afternoons. When I had my children I always took a nap every afternoon when I was expecting them,’ she said crisply. ‘Now we’ll have to get a gate put in at the top of those stairs; we don’t want any accidents when the baby starts to crawl,’ she added pragmatically.

‘Oh!’ Valerie said faintly, astonished at this unexpected reaction.

‘Well, it’s up to you, of course, but I think it’s something to be considered,’ Mrs M frowned.

‘Oh, yes, yes, of course. I . . . I just wasn’t sure if you’d want a baby in the house.’

‘Ah-ha! Did you think I was going to evict you?’ Mrs Maguire eyed her sharply.

‘Well . . . I . . . I . . . wasn’t sure,’ Valerie stuttered as they pulled up outside the house.

‘And what would I do that for? Aren’t you and that other harum-scarum article the nicest pair of gels I’ve had up there in a long time? You’re very good to me, the pair of you, doing my little bits of shopping and always there if I need you. Don’t you worry, Valerie, your baby will be very welcome,’ she said kindly, patting her hand. ‘I presume the father is that handsome young man who comes to visit.’

‘Yes, Jeff,’ Valerie smiled.

‘A grand lad. Didn’t he put those mousetraps around my kitchen for me when I was afflicted by mice a few weeks ago? There’s not many would do that now. I was impressed with him, deah. Very mannerly too. And I hope your families are being kind to the pair of you. Now I must leave you and love you. I want to watch
Coronation Street.
We’ll discuss the stairs when it’s time, and I must go and get some wool and start knitting a few clothes for the mite. I’ll do yellows and greens and lilacs, maybe. It won’t matter then whether it’s a boy or a girl.’

She got out of the car and marched up the path, leaving Valerie sitting open-mouthed at the wheel.

‘Fair play to the old dear,’ Jeff had said delightedly when she told him the news the next day, when she met him in the college canteen after work. ‘You sit down and I’ll get our food,’ he said solicitously, leading her to an empty table. The loud buzz of chatter, the clatter of cutlery and crockery, red plastic chairs scraping against the floors – she didn’t notice any of it now, she’d got so used to meeting him several nights a week to eat dinner with him while he was cramming. It was a habit they’d got into once he’d come back to college that autumn.

That day when she had driven back from Rockland’s following the family meeting had been the worst of her entire life. She was sure Jeff would do a runner and the thought terrified her. She had cried a lake of tears and without Lizzie’s no-nonsense attitude and firm support she would have been lost.

‘Jeff is not going to do the dirty on you. I’m telling you, Valerie, he’s not that sort. He’s just rattled like you are. He’ll adjust to the idea that he’s going to be a father,’ her friend insisted.

‘But he ran like a scalded cat when he got the opportunity to get out of getting married. If he loved me he would have married me.’ She couldn’t be pacified.

‘Look, I do think if you had said you wanted to get married, he would have married you,’ Lizzie countered.

‘Well, we’ll never know now, will we?’ Valerie said bitterly, hating him with every fibre of her being.

‘Stop that now, Valerie, and stop that bawling. It’s not good for the baby. The poor little yoke will be all stressed and anxious if you are.’

‘Do you think he loves me, though?’ she persisted.

‘Valerie, whoever really knows about love?’ Lizzie sighed.

‘But I love him,’ Valerie protested heatedly.

‘Well, if you love him, trust him to do the right thing in his own time then,’ Lizzie said patiently.

‘And if he doesn’t?’ Valerie sniffed.

‘Just stay calm and stop anticipating stuff, will you?’ Lizzie retorted. ‘What’s for you won’t pass you by. That’s what my mam always says.’

‘I hope she’s right,’ Valerie muttered.

Waiting for Jeff’s phone call had been nerve-racking. Every time the phone rang at work her stomach had tied itself up in knots. But he’d hadn’t phoned her at work. He had left it until the evening when he phoned her in the flat.

‘You’d think you might have been interested enough to know if I got home safely yesterday.’ She launched into an attack straight away.

‘I thought you were mad with me so I thought I’d let you cool down,’ he explained defensively.

‘Good excuse,’ she snapped.

‘Do you want me to come up tomorrow?’

‘Do you
want
to come up?’

‘Not if you’re going to take the nose off me,’ he said sullenly.

‘Well, don’t bother so,’ she snapped, slammed down the phone and burst into tears.

Half an hour later the phone rang again.

‘Let’s not fight, Val,’ Jeff said dejectedly when she answered.

‘OK. Please come up tomorrow,’ she said, utterly relieved that he had phoned again.

‘I will. I’ll come straight from the boat and take you out for dinner. We’ll go to Gallagher’s.’

‘Maybe we should start saving,’ she demurred.

‘It will be our last little fling,’ he said, and she knew he was smiling.

‘Are you sure you want to?’

‘Positive,’ he assured her.

They had been edgy with each other at first. She was still smarting from what she perceived as his rejection of her and couldn’t pretend that things were normal between them. He bore it stoically and put up with her volatile humours over the next couple of visits. When he came back to the city for good and got into the routine of college it got easier, and gradually the shock of her pregnancy wore off. As the days shortened and the nights lengthened into a cold, windy autumn, Valerie settled into her new circumstances and her changing relationship with Jeff. He
was
going to play his part and be a good father, she realized, the day he arrived at the flat with a sturdy little Moses basket.

‘It was mine. It was in the attic at home and I freshened it up and got one of my aunts, who’s brilliant at sewing, to put a new lining in. Do you like it?’ he asked proudly, and she burst into tears and fell into his arms, and they made love for the first time since she’d told him that she was pregnant.

Lying in his arms afterwards, Valerie felt a sense of optimism and calm return. They were together; they would face the future and all that it held, as a couple. They would need to start making plans about where they were going to live once the baby was born and Jeff had finished his exams. Her next great fear had been that Mrs Maguire would give her her marching orders and now, happily, that hadn’t happened. She could stay in her snug little nest for as long as she liked.

Standing in the kitchen, looking out at the relentless rain and the wind-battered garden, Valerie found it hard to believe that she was going to give birth soon. Her pregnancy had flown by. She had not set foot in Rockland’s, not even for Christmas. Jeff had come up to be with her and it had been one of the happiest times of her life, living together while Lizzie was at home celebrating the festive season. Carmel had come up for Stephen’s Day, and brought a feast of home baking and a large travel bag filled with baby clothes that she had been buying since she’d found out she was to be a grandmother. Valerie had heard nothing from Terence. If he answered the phone when she rang home, he would call Carmel and walk away from the phone. Even though she expected it from him, it still hurt. He was her father, when all was said and done.

Her colleagues and her managers at work had been supportive. She had felt sick to her stomach and full of apprehension the morning she had decided to announce her pregnancy at tea break. She’d mulled over what to say and had prepared a little speech, but in the end she’d just blurted out, ‘Girls, I’m pregnant.’ She could see the surprise her declaration caused but almost immediately her colleagues rallied around, congratulating her, offering second-hand cots and buggys and making her feel no different from any of her married colleagues. Once she had that ordeal over she had begun to relax, and apart from morning sickness in the early months her pregnancy had been uneventful. She was lucky, Valerie reflected, as she heard Lizzie calling her into the sitting room for the start of the film, especially when she heard some of the stories from other mothers-to-be at her prenatal clinics.

‘What would I do without you? You’re a great friend, Lizzie,’ Valerie said appreciatively as she settled herself on the sofa and Lizzie stuck a pillow into the small of her back.

‘I’d expect the same from you, never you fear, missy. I’ll need you one day.’ Lizzie handed her a packet of crisps.

‘I’ll be there, for sure,’ Valerie promised fervently.

‘I know that.’ Lizzie tucked herself into the elderly but very comfortable armchair. ‘This is the life, Valerie. How lucky are we?’ she remarked as Deborah Kerr’s beautiful features, framed by a nun’s wimple, illuminated the screen.
Black Narcissus
was a gripping film, living up to all of Mrs M’s commendation, and they immersed themselves in the lives of Kerr’s troubled Sister Clodagh, as she watched her colleague Sister Ruth descend into madness, while also battling her attraction to the sexy Mr Dean, in her convent at the foot of the Himalayas.

‘That was brilliant. My God, that Sister Ruth was scary when she went off her rocker, wasn’t she? That mad lipstick scene was something else,’ Lizzie exclaimed, throwing another couple of briquettes onto the fire when the final credits rolled.

‘Mr Dean was a dish,’ Valerie stretched luxuriantly. ‘Lovely hairy chest.’

‘Yeah, except he looked a bit daft on that donkey. His feet were nearly touching the ground,’ Lizzie scoffed. ‘He needed to be riding a horse to do it for me. Or riding me,’ she added incorrigibly.

‘You know, I think I’ve got a name for the baby if it’s a girl,’ Valerie said slowly.

‘I thought you’d picked Cora if it was a girl and Ronan if it was a boy.’ Her friend looked at her in surprise.

‘I know, but remember when Sister Ruth asked the little lad had he given one of the nuns her glass of milk?’

‘Joseph, the little fella who used to call the nuns Lemenie? Ah, he was a dote. Are you changing to Joseph?’ Lizzie poked the fire, sending out a shower of sparks. ‘Good God! You’re not going to call her
Lemenie
, if it’s a girl, are you?’

‘No, you daft idiot. She asked him did he bring Sister
Briony
her milk. What do you think of the name Briony?’ Valerie asked eagerly, rubbing her bump.

‘It’s
gorgeous!
Perfect. I
love
it,’ Lizzie enthused.

‘Well, then, if it’s a girl Briony Harris it will be. I hope Jeff likes it.’

‘You wouldn’t consider calling her Briony Egan?’ Lizzie arched an eyebrow.

‘Only if Jeff marries me,’ Valerie declared firmly.

‘And rightly so,’ approved her friend. ‘Oh, Valerie, it’s exciting, isn’t it? I can’t wait.’

‘Me neither! I think I would like a little girl now that I’ve got such a lovely name. It just feels right, somehow.’ Valerie’s eyes were glowing as the baby gave another kick. ‘See, it’s kicking. I think it knows its name.’

‘Say it again,’ Lizzie urged, coming over to kneel in front of her and putting her hand on Valerie’s bump.

‘Briony. Briony. Briony,’ Valerie crooned, and they laughed as her baby kicked spiritedly in her womb.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
OUR

Briony sat sipping a glass of chilled white wine and nibbling on plump green olives, as the waves washed lazily against the shore and the stars glistened in a blue-black sky. Clusters of orange lights shimmered faintly on the horizon and, in spite of her anguish, Briony wondered if people were sitting on the coast of Africa looking over to the twinkling lights of the Spanish mainland. She liked to imagine they were, although the lights were probably from ships or fishing boats. A glittering cruise liner overflowing with glamour, glister and gaiety glided through the surging sea, towards Gibraltar. Around her the happy hum of conversation and people enjoying their evening added to her sense of sadness. If only Finn were here so she could tell him of her distress. Her husband had a calm way of dealing with life’s ups and downs and she valued his advice more than anyone’s. It was so frustrating to have her phone lying in her bag, the battery as dead as a dodo.

‘Would you like to order, Señora?’ A smiling waiter stood in front of her, pen poised on his electronic pad.

‘Um . . .’ she peered at the menu again. ‘Yes, I’ll have the whitebait, please.’ She smiled back at him and handed him the menu. She hadn’t planned on having something to eat, but her fast, anger-fuelled walk along the beach had left her feeling thirsty, and when she had reached a popular beachside
chiringuito
she and Valerie had eaten in several times on previous trips to Spain, she’d walked up from the beach and sat at one of the more secluded, outdoor tables at the far side of the restaurant and ordered a glass of wine. When the waiter had brought the menu she realized she was slightly peckish and perused the starters. She was in no rush home. She couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Valerie. Her mother’s lies had deprived her of one of the most loving and comforting relationships of her life. She probably had cousins she’d never met. A whole branch of her father’s family had been lost to her. How wonderful would that have been to have an aunt and uncle and cousins? Briony had no siblings, no father and just a selfish, deceitful mother, she thought sorrowfully. She took a slug of wine. She had a good mind to get hammered. If it wasn’t for Katie, she would, and then she’d take a taxi to the Don Carlos further up the coast, and book into the luxury hotel for the night and to hell with penury. For certain, first thing in the morning she was going to go to an internet café and book a flight home. She was damned if she was spending a minute more than was necessary with Valerie. Would Tessa want to see her now? Should she just drive to Rockland’s and try to find her grandparents’ house from memory? She could always ask someone for directions when she got there. If only she could talk to Granny Carmel and ask her advice, but her poor grandmother was living in her own private world now and didn’t even recognize her even though she made regular visits to see her.