Lola's Secret (11 page)

“Lola Quinlan speaking.”

“Lola, it’s Daniel.”

She sat up immediately, smiling into the phone. She was very fond of Bett’s husband. “How are you, darling? How are those two little angels of yours?”

“I’m not home yet, but I’ve just spoken to Bett and she said they’re both fast asleep at the same time for the first time in months. I think they run on battery power. The only problem is we can’t find the Off switch. What will it be like when they’re walking and talking?”

“Hideous, I expect. But fun too. What can I do for you, my dear? Are you planning a little surprise for Bett?”

“It’s about Bett, but it’s not a surprise. Not a good one anyway. Lola, can I come and see you on the way home from work? I need your help.”

He was there at the door less than half an hour later. He seemed as harassed as Bett had been earlier that week. Handsome as ever, Lola thought, with his tousled black hair and dark eyes, but he also looked like he hadn’t slept in months. “I’m sorry to barge in like this,” he said.

“There’s no one I’d rather be barged in on than you. What is it?”

“I’m worried about Bett, Lola. I didn’t know whether to talk to you or to Geraldine, but—”

“You decided to start at the top? I’m attempting a joke, dear Daniel, to lighten the mood and relax you. What’s wrong? Tell me everything.”

It poured out of him. His concern that Bett was exhausted. Not sleeping. Worrying too much, about every little thing the twins did, ate, touched, or drank. “I’ve read about postnatal depression. Is that what she has? She was so devastated by Anna’s death, Lola, I’m worried the babies are too much for her, that she can’t cope emotionally, let alone physically. I’ve tried to help, I’m still trying, but—” His eyes filled with tears and he roughly wiped them away. “I can’t seem to do anything right. One minute she’s happy I’ve got the new job, next she’s sounding like she wants me to hand in my notice. But we can’t afford it. Things are tough enough as it is, with the mortgage and everything else—”

“What happened with her at the doctor?”

“The doctor?”

“Bett had a doctor’s appointment earlier this week.”

“She didn’t mention it. Was it for her or the twins?”

“She was on her own when I saw her.”

Daniel went still.

“She assured me someone was minding them,” Lola said quickly. “Your neighbor, I think she said.”

“Why didn’t she tell me about it?”

“Daniel, I don’t know. Go and talk to her. Ask her.”

He stood up, reached for his car keys, then stopped. “I thought it was supposed to be easier than this. More fun.”

“It will be.”

“She’s changed.”

“She’s a mother now, Daniel. Everything changes when that happens. You’re different too. You’re parents now. That’s a big deal. But keep talking to each other about it. That has to be your starting point.”

It wasn’t until he had driven away that she realized he’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t said good-bye.

She’d barely laid down when the phone rang again. She answered it as cheerily as possible.

“Lola, hi. It’s Matthew.”

“Matthew, how are you?” She liked Carrie’s husband, too, though not as much as she liked Daniel. Was it all right to have favorite grandsons-in-law-? She’d certainly felt that Matthew was the wrong person for Bett, and had been as surprised as everyone else when he and Carrie became a couple, but in the years that passed, she’d come to the conclusion that they were probably just right for one another. Carrie was a dear, when it suited her, but she was also spoiled. Her looks were to blame, probably—those blonde curls and blue eyes meant people treated her in the same way they treated kittens, as something to be admired and cosseted. Matthew had a solidity about him, in personality and physique, which was probably what Carrie needed. He just didn’t have that sparkle in the eye that Lola liked to see and that Daniel definitely had. Still, it was always nice to get a call from him. “How can I help you, dear?”

“It’s about Carrie. Lola, can I come and see you after work?”

Had she hung up a
Marriage Guidance Here Tonight
sign outside her door without realizing? “Of course.”

He got straight to the point as soon as he arrived an hour later. “I’m worried about Carrie, Lola. She’s started getting obsessed about Bett again. Talking about her all the time.”

“Obsessed about Bett again? When did she get obsessed with Bett the last time?”

Matthew shifted uncomfortably. “When, you know, a few years ago. When they were still feuding—”

“Over you? Of course, darling. How could I have forgotten? And do you think that’s happening again? That Bett’s back in love with you?”

“She was never in love with me. That’s not the problem now either. Lola, Carrie’s just not herself anymore. She hasn’t been since Bett had the twins. She’s cranky all the time. She talks about Bett constantly, about her kids, our kids, who’s doing what, eating what, how they’re sleeping. About who’s the better mother. It’s turned into some kind of competition between them and I don’t know what to do about it. What do I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s between them, Matthew, between Bett and Carrie. If you interfere, you’ll only make it worse. As for Carrie’s crankiness, you’ll just have to try and weather that as well. What more could you possibly do to help her? You already cook four nights a week, don’t you?”

“Me? Cook?” He looked even more uncomfortable. “I try, of course. I mean, I do the occasional barbie, but Carrie’s always been the one more interested in that side of things.”

That side of things? Lola thought. Feeding her family? She continued. “And you give the kids their baths each night, don’t you? So that Carrie gets an hour to herself at the end of the day?”

His silence and the expression on his face told her all she needed to know. So Carrie had been lying about that to Bett. This wasn’t the time to challenge Matthew, though. She smiled at him instead. “Really, darling, I wouldn’t worry. You have three children under five. Life is just going to be a bit chaotic for a few years. Keep up the good work. Oh, and bring home a bunch of flowers now and again. From a florist, not a service station. That always works wonders. Start tonight, in fact. There’s a good boy.”

She had him bundled out the door and into his car before he realized what she was doing.

She’d hoped to spend tonight making plans for her Christmas guests. It seemed she had business closer to home to attend to first. Poor Bett and poor Carrie. Who would be a mother in this day and age? So much pressure from so many sides, to do everything brilliantly—be the perfect mother, perfect wife, to choose between holding down a full-time job, a part-time job, or being an at-home mother, to stay engaged with the world and also be guilt-free, while managing to cook gourmet meals, keep the house spotless and also stylishly decorated, and, oh yes, wear fashionable clothes on your slim post-baby body. Simple.

Impossible, more like it. Lola tried to remember her own first years as a mother. Had there been that pressure from other mothers around her when Jim was young? If there was, she couldn’t remember it. Perhaps it helped that they moved around so much, and she was never in one spot long enough to join a peer group and feel their pressure. It existed now, though. She read about it in newspapers and magazines, and saw it for herself among motel guests or customers at the charity shop. An old lady learned a lot about the modern world through the joys of eavesdropping.

Lola knew there was no point bemoaning such competitive behavior, or declaring loudly and often that everyone should just get on and be more understanding of each other. Human nature was human nature. Bett and Carrie were perfect case studies. If they weren’t being competitive about who was the better mother, they’d have been competitive about their jobs, or their houses, or their husbands. It was just the kind of relationship they had. Lola had seen it between them as children. They’d been two little savages sometimes, fighting over the same doll, pulling each other’s hair, pinching one another when they thought Lola wasn’t looking. Anna had been a buffer of sorts between them, in childhood and later. And now with Anna gone …

What
was
it with sisters? Kay in the shop was the same about hers, Lola recalled. In her late sixties, a mature, retired woman, and yet she still often complained about her little sister—aged fifty-nine—and how annoying she was whenever she came to visit. Joan too. She had two sisters and alternated between talking about them as the most angelic, entertaining beings in the world and being infuriated by them. Another of the shop volunteers hadn’t spoken to her sister in more than thirty years, since an argument over a damaged David Cassidy record, of all things.

Perhaps Lola should be glad she was an only child, much as she had begged her parents to give her a brother and a sister. She had been like a zoo exhibit in Ireland at that time, the only one in her class without at least four siblings. “It must be so wonderful,” one of her classmates said once, sighing. “You never have to share anything. It’s all yours. You’re
allowed
to be selfish.”

What could she do for Bett and Carrie now? she wondered. Listen whenever they needed to moan? Praise them effusively at regular intervals? She did that already and it hadn’t seemed to help. What they probably both needed more than anything was an extra pair of hands at meal and bath times, a full-time cook and cleaner, a nanny on standby, more money, more sleep, more time to themselves, and more understanding husbands. That was some wish list. All out of the question, too, unfortunately, so far as being anything Lola herself could supply. Twenty years ago, perhaps, but the sad truth was she no longer had the stamina or the strength to mind babies and little children on her own. Jim and Geraldine offered to babysit, she knew, and already had that once-a-week arrangement with Carrie and her trio on netball night, but they were running a business themselves, and had little spare time as it was. One of the hard facts of parenthood was that sometimes the only people who could do it were the parents themselves.

Perhaps what Lola could do was try to mend some of those broken fences between Bett and Carrie? Remind them of the fun times they’d had, performing as children together, or more recently, when they’d staged her musical
Many Happy Returns
. They’d got on well then, hadn’t they? Under duress, but Lola could clearly recall laughter and camaraderie between them. Was that the solution this time, too? Write a musical as quickly as she could, one with lots of bit parts for babies and toddlers and four-year-olds and veterinarian husbands and photographer husbands, so their entire families could be involved too?

Lola imagined the scene in the rehearsal room and actually shuddered. No, that most definitely wasn’t the answer this time. But something would occur to her, she knew it. Something important, something special, to help bring Bett and Carrie together, to help them put their differences aside …

And what better to aid the thinking process, Lola decided, than a very large, very cold gin and tonic.

S
INGING ALONG
to the radio as she folded two large baskets of laundry, her beautiful babies gurgling to themselves in their highchairs beside her, Bett felt as though the world around her had changed from gray to color. It was the happiest she’d felt for a long time. Her meeting with her editor earlier that week couldn’t have gone better. Afterward, Bett had gone to one of the main street cafés and enjoyed a leisurely pot of peppermint tea and a slow read of two—two!—glossy magazines. She’d never known three hours to last so long. The twins were just waking from a nap when she arrived back home, right on six
P
.
M
. as arranged. Jane said they’d behaved like angels and had told Bett—truthfully, she insisted—that she was more than happy to babysit any time she needed.

“But you’ve got your hands full already.”

“Lexie is deaf, Bett. Not difficult, not a handful, just deaf.”

It was a gentle rebuke, but a rebuke nevertheless. They’d agreed to Jane minding the twins again for a few hours the following week. Lexie had loved playing with them, Jane told her. Beside her, Lexie nodded and smiled and signed a long complicated message that Jane translated. “She said that they are the funniest babies she’s ever met and when she grows up she wants to have three sets of twins.”

Today had been great, too. Yvette had slept and fed like a dream. Zach too. He was even looking for more after usually being a slow eater. While they bashed their spoons against their highchair trays, she made a big salad for Daniel and her to eat out on the verandah later. She’d decided that was the perfect setting in which to break her news. And what great news. Rebecca had rung that afternoon to confirm the details. She wanted Bett to work a few hours here and there before Christmas, and then start back one full day a week in the new year.

Bett couldn’t wait to tell Daniel. For once, though, her imagined scenarios let her down. No matter how many times she rehearsed her announcement, she couldn’t picture his reaction.

She tried again now. “Daniel, guess what! I’ve been offered a part-time job back at the paper! All you have to do is go part-time too!” That was exactly the way to be. Upbeat but firm. And what would Daniel say in return? She didn’t know yet. But it would be fine. Absolutely fine. He’d agree, of course. And before they knew it, the new arrangement would be working perfectly, the twins would be settled and very happy to have their mum
and
dad around so much, and tranquillity would descend on the house.

She tensed as she heard the sound of Daniel’s car.

She didn’t have time to serve the salad or even go out to the verandah. Daniel walked in and after swiftly kissing Yvette and Zachary and making sure they were both firmly fastened in their highchairs, he took her hand and led her into the living room. He sat down next to her on the sofa.

“What is it, Bett?”

“What’s what?”

“What happened at the doctor?”

“The doctor?”

“Didn’t you have a doctor’s appointment this week?”

“Who told you that?”

“Lola. Your grandmother. The one you called in to see before your doctor’s appointment.”

This evening wasn’t going the way she’d expected. Daniel seemed tense. She was tenser. “It wasn’t the doctor.”

“What was it, then?”

She couldn’t tell him like this. “I can’t say yet.”

“Bett, I’m your husband. Are you sick?”

She shook her head.

“Then why were you in town?”

“I had to do some shopping.”

“For what?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff? Bett, what’s going on?”

She’d never been so glad to hear Yvette start to cry. She stood up. “We’ll have to talk about this later.”

She managed to keep herself busy with the babies for the next hour. She rang friends she’d put off ringing for weeks. She suggested they eat their salads in front of the TV news. All the time, she was conscious of Daniel watching her.

At eight o’clock he followed her into the kitchen. “Are you going to clean out the cupboards next? Or do some scrapbooking? Or have you run out of ways to avoid me?”

She didn’t answer.

“What is it, Bett?”

“Nothing.”

“I need you to tell me.”

“I’m no good at this, Daniel.”

“At what?”

“This.” She gestured with her arms, all around her. “At being a mother. A wife and a mother. I’m not even a good sister. I can’t do it.”

“You are doing it. You’ve been a mother, a very good mother, for seven months. A wonderful wife for how long now, nearly three years? So you’re wrong so far.” He smiled at her.

“Don’t patronize me.” Her shout shocked them both. “I’m not, Daniel. I’m useless at all of it. I can’t talk to you without fighting anymore. I’m no good at being a mother. It’s like slowly drowning. I can’t keep on top of things. Jane minded them for one afternoon, with her own daughter as well, and she somehow managed to get them to sleep and do a load of washing. She even made biscuits for me, Daniel. She did more here in three hours than I’ve been able to do in months.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true. Everyone is better at this than me.”

“Who else?”

“Carrie, Daniel.
Carrie
.” She was shouting now and she didn’t care. “As she reminds me every single day, she has three children, not just two like I have, and yet she manages to run her house perfectly, dress her children perfectly, keep herself fit with her stupid walks and her stupid netball, and she gets Mum and Dad to babysit when I don’t even dare ask, and as each day passes she just rubs it in more and more, and as each day passes I get more and more jealous of her stupid, smug, perfect life and her stupid, smug, perfect self—”

“Bett—”

“I mean it, Daniel. You don’t hear her. You don’t hear her telling me what a mess I’m making of it all. She doesn’t even need to tell me. I see it for myself every day. She’s the perfect mother and I’m the disastrous one. And I’m starting to hate her for it. I mean it. I hate her. And she’s the only sister I have left, and sometimes—” The tears came then. “Sometimes I wish she was the one who died, not Anna. That’s how horrible I am, Daniel. And I hate that about myself even more.”

Daniel didn’t move, or speak. He just sat watching her.

“It’s the truth, Daniel. I’m a bad person. A bad mother. A bad sister. And a bad wife. Do you really want to know what I did this week? I went back to my newspaper and I begged for a job. And they don’t even need me in there, but I begged, because if I am here on my own, being a bad mother, for one more day, I am going to go mad. I can’t do it. I’m no good at it. And I know I’m supposed to love them and do everything I can for them, and I do love them, so much, but why can’t I do it properly? I mean it. What’s wrong with me?”

“When were you going to tell me about the job?”

“Tonight.”

“When did you set up the meeting?”

“Last week.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I couldn’t.”

“But I’m your husband.”

She didn’t reply to that.

“What were you going to do with the twins?” he asked.

“I was going to ask you to go part-time and mind them too. I know we can’t afford a nursery.”

She kept waiting for him to come over, to put his arms around her, to tell her not to worry, that they’d work it out.

He didn’t. He stayed where he was. When he spoke, his voice was low. His expression wasn’t angry. He looked tired and sad.

“I thought we had a good relationship, Bett. That we talked about things. That we’d made a family together and we would face everything, the good things and the bad things, together. But you obviously don’t see things like that.”

She could only stare back at him. She knew she should say, “No, you’re wrong. Of course we’re a family.” But she was too tired, too. Too sad. Too, too everything.

“I’ll ask at work tomorrow,” he said.

“What?”

“I’ll ask at work tomorrow if I can go part-time in the new year.”

“Just like that?”

“It’s what you want, isn’t it? That would make you happy? Make everything all right again?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“Bett, you’ve been planning this for a week. You lied to Lola about it. So it must be important to you. If you want me to ask about going part-time, I’ll do it. Do you want me to?”

She suddenly had no idea what on earth she wanted. All she could do was nod.

“Then I will.”

They washed up in silence. Any attempt at conversation from Bett was met by monosyllabic replies from Daniel. He didn’t ask her any questions. She asked him three times if he was all right. He nodded each time.

“Just have a lot to think about,” he said.

She went to bed first and lay there crying. If he heard her, he didn’t come in to soothe her as he had so many times before, to stroke her hair from her forehead, tell her he loved her, that he loved this family they’d made, tell her to stay in bed, have a good night’s sleep. She heard the TV in the living room instead. He was watching a show that she had never known him to watch before.

She was asleep before he came to bed. When she woke twice during the night to see to the twins, he didn’t offer to help as he always had before, though she could sense he was awake. When she woke up at six the next morning, moments before the babies began to stir, he’d already left for work.