Changing Places (10 page)

Alex nodded and promptly threw up again, this time into the sink. Rachel held his head. ‘It’s all right, darling, you’re going to be okay. You’ll feel so much better
now.’

Alex leaned heavily against her, his eyes closed and his cheeks flushed. Rachel put a hand to his forehead – yes, he definitely had a temperature. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up and
then it’s back to bed for you.’ Alex said not a word as she stripped off his pyjamas and washed away the vomit. Then she handed him a toothbrush. ‘Brush your teeth, darling, and
get rid of the yucky taste.’

Obediently, Alex brushed his teeth and then followed his mother into her bedroom.

‘You climb up there while I get you some clean pyjamas.’ When she’d settled her son in bed, Rachel went to fetch the Calpol. On her way back, she stopped off at Alex’s
room to collect his teddy.

‘Thanks, Mum.’ He gave her a shy smile when he saw it.

She hugged him. ‘You’re welcome. Now, is there anything else I can get you?’

He shook his head.

‘Do you feel sleepy?’

‘A bit.’

‘Well, I’ll pull the curtains and let you sleep.’

‘Will you stay with me, Mum?’ Alex’s eyes looked huge in his small, frightened face.

‘Of course I will.’ Rachel climbed into bed and pulled him into her arms. As she held him, she closed her eyes and promised herself she’d be a better mother. It wasn’t
Alex’s fault that she was miserable. She was giving the poor kid a tough time lately and, God knows, he didn’t deserve it.

After Alex had fallen asleep, Rachel checked his temperature again and then slipped quietly out of the room. He seemed better now, probably something he ate or a bug he’d
picked up at school. Going downstairs, Rachel brightened at the sight of a postcard in the hall. Snatching it up, she took it into the kitchen to read over a cuppa. She didn’t even glance at
it until she was settled at the kitchen table with her mug of tea and slice of toast, at which stage she picked it up and examined the photo carefully.

It was a dramatic sunset over a beautiful lagoon and the colours made Rachel gasp with wonder. As usual, Bridie had crammed the back of the card with her small, tidy script. Rachel settled down
to enjoy her mother’s latest missive.

Rachel loved reading her mother’s postcards, although they also made her realize how much she missed Bridie. She tried to imagine her parents on bicycles and giggled at
the thought. It was amazing that they were doing all of these things and being so adventurous. A couple of years ago her father wouldn’t have tried a different brand of coffee, never mind
eaten eels!

Rachel pinned the postcard on the noticeboard with the others and then took her tea into the dining room and sat down at the computer in the corner. It was the old machine Gary had used before
he got his laptop and he’d rigged it up so that Alex could play games and they could log onto the internet. Rachel hadn’t been all that interested to begin with until she discovered a
website that grabbed her attention.

MumSpeak
was dedicated to maternity and parenting problems, and Rachel had found it a couple of weeks ago when she’d been searching the web for natural remedies to her sleep
problems. Each night she went to bed exhausted and was asleep within minutes, but come two o’clock every morning, she would wake and toss and turn for hours. She had often suffered from bouts
of insomnia over the years and in the past had resorted to strong sleeping tablets that would send her into a deep sleep, leaving her drowsy for most of the next day. But now that she was pregnant,
drugs were out and the usual remedies of hot baths and milky drinks weren’t working.

She hadn’t found any answers to her problem on
MumSpeak
so she decided to go into the chatroom and ask other mums if they had any ideas. The almost instantaneous flood of replies
had amazed and touched her. Fliss from Carlisle was very sympathetic and told her to try meditation. GroovyBabe from Blackpool told her to drink camomile tea and Vanessa from Cork suggested
lavender-scented candles. Rachel immediately wrote back, thanking them for their sympathy and suggestions, and after that she signed in at least once a day to talk to her new friends.

How’s the indigestion, BabyJ?
she keyed in now on one thread about tummy troubles, and,
Anyone know where I can find maternity trousers that don’t make me look like a
whale?
she entered on the thread about clothes. After browsing through some other threads, Rachel reluctantly signed off and went into the kitchen.

She was just loading the washing-machine when she heard Alex call out. Abandoning the washing, she hurried upstairs. ‘What is it, sweetheart? Are you going to be sick again?’ When
she pushed open the door, Alex was hopping up and down on the bed and using his teddy as a football. ‘Can I have something to eat, Mum?’

Rachel smiled with relief. ‘How about some toast?’

‘Great. I don’t have to go to school, do I?’

‘No, not today.’

‘So can I come downstairs and play?’ He looked at her hopefully.

‘Oh, I suppose so.’ She laughed as he jumped into her arms.

‘Thanks, Mum, you’re cool!’

When Gary walked in the door later that evening, Alex was sitting on the floor eating Rice Crispies and playing with his Yu-Gi-Oh cards and Rachel was asleep on the sofa.
‘What’s going on? Alex, why are you in your pyjamas?’

‘I’m sick.’ Alex grinned at him.

Rachel opened her eyes and went to sit up but was hit by a wave of nausea. ‘Oh God.’

Gary frowned. ‘Have you been drinking?’

Rachel glared at him. ‘Of course I haven’t!’ She stood up slowly and went out to the kitchen to get a drink of water, with Gary hot on her heels.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked, looking at the pile of dishes in the sink, cereal spilled all over the counter and the washing hanging out of the machine.

Rachel stood at the sink, sipping water and counting to ten. ‘Alex was sick this morning so I kept him home.’

‘And then aliens attacked and threw stuff all over the kitchen?’

‘Oh, fuck the kitchen, Gary!’

‘Rachel! What if Alex heard you?’

‘I don’t care!’ Rachel snapped but she checked the doorway and was happy to see that Alex was still engrossed in his game and oblivious to his parents bickering.

Gary made a big production of cleaning down the worktop. ‘This house is in a right state and you don’t look too good yourself.’ He shot a disgusted look at her stained old
tracksuit.

Rachel gasped, hot tears pricking at her eyes. ‘How can you talk to me like that?’

‘Well, it’s true,’ Gary said, but he did look a bit shamefaced. ‘You seem to do nothing but sit around the house all day and I can’t believe you kept Alex home.
What’s wrong? Was it too much of an effort to get him dressed?’

‘I told you, he was sick!’

‘Yeah, right, he looks it!’

‘He puked all over the place,’ Rachel protested. ‘Check the laundry basket if you don’t believe me.’

Gary wrinkled his nose. ‘You’ve left clothes covered with vomit in the laundry basket?’

It was her turn to look shamefaced. ‘I meant to wash them, I just forgot.’

‘For God’s sake, woman!’ Gary turned on his heel. ‘I don’t know what’s got into you.’

‘A baby, Gary,’ Rachel called after him. ‘That’s what’s got into me!’

Gary stopped in the doorway and turned. ‘What did you say?’

Rachel flopped into a chair, the tears running down her cheeks unchecked. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Gary came over and sat down opposite her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course.’

‘How far along are you?’

Rachel couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Nearly ten weeks, I think.’

‘What? But how come you didn’t know? You must have felt something.’ Then realization dawned. ‘You’ve known about this for ages, haven’t you?’

‘Not that long.’

‘But you kept it from me.’

‘I just wanted to get used to the idea. It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all. And I’ve been feeling so awful.’

Gary’s expression softened and he put a hand out to squeeze hers. ‘Morning sickness?’

‘All day, more like,’ Rachel exaggerated, desperate for sympathy.

‘Poor you. Have you been to the doctor?’

Rachel shook her head.

‘I’ll make an appointment for you. You have to get checked out and anyway, shouldn’t there be a heartbeat by now? Wouldn’t you like to hear it? I remember with Alex
you’d be counting the days between visits to the hospital.’

Rachel managed a weak smile. ‘I’m just feeling so lousy it’s hard to associate it with a baby. It doesn’t seem very real.’

‘It will seem real enough in a few months when we’re up all night every night,’ Gary told her.

Rachel resisted the temptation to remind him that she had been the only one whose nights were disrupted when Alex came along.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve done anything about dinner,’ he was saying.

Rachel shook her head.

‘No problem. I’ll go and get us a takeaway. What about Alex?’

‘He’s okay. He’s been eating toast and cereal all day and I think that’s enough for him.’

‘Great, then let’s pack him off to bed and we’ll have a nice quiet evening together.’

Rachel began to feel the tension ease away. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bath.’

‘No problem. You go and have a nice long soak. I’ll tidy up here and get Alex to bed. And Rachel?’

‘Yes?’ She looked up at him.

‘Sorry for being so hard on you.’

‘You weren’t to know.’ Rachel smiled gratefully.

Gary came over and kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘You go on up and I’ll bring you a nice mug of tea.’

Rachel left him whistling to himself as he loaded the dishwasher. Well, at least now he knew. She hadn’t meant to tell him quite like that, of course, but – oh well, it was done now.
Going into the bathroom she turned the hot tap on full and added lavender bath oil. As she undressed she wondered at Gary’s reaction. He hadn’t seemed bothered or fazed at the idea of
becoming a father again, but then why would he? She was the one who had to carry the child for nine months and she’d be the one doing all the work after it was born.

Gloom descended on her once more as she lowered herself carefully into the bath. The prospect of maternity jeans and no drink filled her with dread, not to mention the thought of pendulous boobs
and varicose veins. Was it any wonder if Gary got turned off? How could she blame him if he looked at other women? She should have worked harder to get her figure back after Alex was born. Now it
was too late; she’d be even bigger after a second baby and her boobs would never be quite right again. Rachel took a deep breath and ducked her head under the water. The silence enveloped and
cushioned her, completely blocking out the outside world. If only she could stay here.

Anna swallowed hard as she stood in the doorway of the second bedroom of number 8, Talbot Road. The duvet was in a pile in the centre of the bed, a pizza box of dubious age sat
on the pillow, empty beer cans rolled on the floor leaving a trail of drops on the once cream carpet and there were piles of dirty laundry everywhere. Anna held up the tape measure against the wall
and then picked her way gingerly through the mess.

‘Teenagers, eh?’ the mother giggled. ‘Carlton won’t let me come near it although he said it was okay for you to come in and measure up today.’

‘Very kind,’ Anna murmured, writing the measurements down and hurrying out of the room. ‘And this is the box room?’ She followed the woman through the next doorway and
found herself in a tiny room decorated in suffocating shades of pink.

‘My daughter’s room,’ the lady explained unnecessarily, straightening the My Little Pony collection on the shelf. ‘Cute, isn’t it?’

‘Lovely.’ Anna decided if she ever had a daughter she wouldn’t so much as put a pink ribbon in her hair.

Hurrying through the remainder of the house, Anna promised she’d be in touch the next day with her valuation and escaped to her relatively clean and sweet-smelling car. Finishing her
notes, she switched on the engine and drove back out on to the airport road. Glancing at the clock she decided to visit the Kenny place before she took a break for lunch. She was feeling a bit
nostalgic about returning to Riverside Court, the tiny cul de sac in the old Malahide estate where her family had lived for more than twenty years.

When her parents had sold up their small terrace house just over a year ago, she had been quite sad. The place was full of happy memories of her childhood, and Anna felt strange at the idea that
someone else was now going to live in their comfortable little home. The new owner would probably pull down the ancient tin hut at the end of the garden that they’d used as a playhouse. Some
other kids would sleep in the front bedroom that she and Rachel had shared until Anna turned fifteen. Then she’d decided that she couldn’t stand her sister another minute and moved
lock, stock and barrel into the tiny box room. That was the room where she’d lain in the single bed, dreaming of her latest boyfriend or writing in her diary. It seemed like a lifetime ago
now.