Positively Yours (23 page)

‘You don't either,' replied Aidan, ‘but you're always here. And anyway we want to keep you company.'

‘And Mum has the house so full of food,' Colm said, ‘that it's tempting to eat here every night. There's never anything to eat in my flat.'

‘That's because you don't ever go shopping,' said Grace, scolding her younger brother, but really she was glad of Colm and Aidan's company. The last week had been hard for her. The minute Ethan had heard of her ‘scare' he had wanted to abandon Rome and fly straight home, but Grace had insisted he didn't. She wasn't sick, the baby was fine. All she needed was to catch up on some sleep, take more iron, and – most importantly – start listening to her baby. In the last seven days Grace's whole attitude towards the little person growing inside her had changed. The old saying, that you don't know what you've got until it's gone, was certainly right for her. It wasn't until she realized she could have lost her baby, that she'd suddenly known she wanted him or her so much. She was actually glad to have had some time to herself this week. Ethan had been great, ringing her every few hours, but it had been good for Grace to have time alone to come to terms with her feelings, to let go of the worry, upset and disappointment she had felt when she had found out she was pregnant, and instead start thinking of the baby as a blessing. It was still going to take some time to get used to, but then having her mum around helped; Patsy's excitement about the baby was infectious.

‘Now, I hope you don't mind, but I just couldn't face liver again tonight, pet.'

Colm and Aidan cheered.

‘We only had sausages in the fridge, so I made your old granny's favourite – sausage sandwiches.'

Grace's mouth began to water. Granny Slattery had lived close by when Grace and her brothers were growing up, and as she'd lived alone, one of them often stayed with her at the weekends. They'd always fought over whose turn it was, as it was such a treat. First they'd be given a huge dinner, and chocolate éclairs for desert, followed by an evening of being allowed to watch anything they wanted on TV. Then they'd sleep in the spare room, where Granny would have used her old electric blanket to warm the bed. But it was the breakfasts Grace had liked best: sausage sandwiches and grapefruit juice, all served on a tray in bed! Grace used to think that that breakfast must be what millionaires ate in the South of France. To sit in your bed drinking grapefruit juice and eating sausages in bread was just so exciting!

Of course, when she grew up, she'd realized it probably wasn't that exotic, but still, no matter how many countries she'd visited, or fancy hotels she'd stayed in, she'd never come across a breakfast as wonderful as Granny Slattery's. The longer Grace stayed in Ireland, the more she remembered all the good things about the place, her family and what they had. She had wanted to get out of Dublin, travel the world, experience a different and better life, but now she saw that what she had here was as good as it gets. And that was mainly due to her loving family.

Grace dug in to her mum's big pile of sausage sandwiches and potato mash, while Patsy told her she was going to play bridge over in her neighbour's house later.

‘I'd better bring a cake or some sweets to thank them all.'

Over the last week all of Patsy's friends had been calling in to check up on Grace. Even though she had kept explaining that she wasn't sick, they'd still insisted on making her lie down while they came to see how she was, and brought box after box of chocolates. Grace hadn't realized before how kind and caring her mum's friends and neighbours were. She'd also never known how loved and cared-for Patsy was by everyone that knew her.

‘Anyway, are you sure you don't want to name the baby after a saint?' Patsy asked for the tenth time that week. ‘It would just make the baby safer.'

‘Mum!' all three kids replied.

‘But what's wrong with Ada or Agnes for a girl? Or maybe Alphonsus for a boy?'

‘Nothing, they're lovely,' said Grace, lying. ‘But they are kind of old-fashioned. I'm not sure Ethan would go for them.' She didn't say any more. She was enjoying being in the lap of luxury at home, and didn't want to rock the boat.

‘Hmm, yes, Ethan will probably want to call the baby Britney or some other weird American name. My only grandchild will probably be named after a pop star or movie actor.'

‘Mum! He's not that bad. Anyway, as tonight is my last night here before Ethan comes back tomorrow, who feels like walking down to Boland's for some ice cream?'

‘I'm in,' said Aidan.

‘Me, too,' said Colm, as he stuffed the last sandwich into his mouth. ‘I just need to put a clothes wash on first, though.'

Patsy looked at him disapprovingly, but Grace knew she didn't mind. Patsy had done nothing all week but look after the mum-to-be. She did drive Grace mad sometimes, but everything she did was for her children. She loved them all so much. Grace realized how lucky she was to have her.

As dinner was over and she had some spare time, Grace took this time to call her friend Rachel in San Diego. Grace had worked with Rachel, and couldn't believe it when she'd found out that she was also pregnant. Both their babies were due around the same time.

‘I'm just home from my baby shower,' exclaimed Rachel down the phone, after greeting Grace with a scream of delight. She called Grace ‘my pregnancy twin'. It made Grace cringe.

‘So how did the shower go?' asked Grace, who was fascinated by these American baby parties. It was just so different from anything that took place in Ireland. Irish women were too superstitious to throw a party for it weeks or months in advance.

‘Well, I had registered all my gifts in advance, but even I was surprised at how cute some of them were. A baby Moses basket made entirely from diapers! An adorable baby yoga mat and DVD – because, really, babies can never start learning too young about exercise and keeping fit. A great baby sling, for when me and Brad go hiking with the little one. A beautiful cashmere Babygro . . .'

The list of mad items was endless. Grace knew Rachel's friends meant well, and Grace herself had to admit that she had bought a diaper stork for a neighbour once, but as she heard Rachel list the gifts, the baby plans, the list of pre-schools that she was hoping her little son would get into, Grace felt uneasy. She didn't know if it was because she was now in Ireland, or because she, too, was pregnant, but it all felt a little over the top. Although, as Rachel described the baby clothes she had bought, it did remind Grace just how much choice there was in America. Close to where she had lived there'd been some beautiful baby and gift shops. Not that Grace had had any interest in them at the time, but one had been beside the dog shop where she'd bought most of Coco's dog clothes, beds, and collars, so she'd often passed by its windows and looked in at
its miniature designer clothes. After half an hour of baby talk with Rachel, Grace knew she had to go – not only would the phone call cost her a fortune, but her brothers were waiting impatiently for their ice cream.

‘Are you sure you're well enough to walk to Boland's?' Patsy asked Grace worriedly.

Grace hadn't gone further than the garden all week, due to Patsy's fears she would do damage to the baby.

‘Mum, I'm not sick, I'm fine. We will see you in a while.'

As Grace walked out the front door she saw her two brothers kicking a football on the road with some of the local kids. It was like the old days. The three Slattery kids walked down to the nearby shops and got into the queue of people all wanting a famous Boland ice-cream cone. After Grace had paid for the three 99s they walked back to St Joseph's Road and sat down on the garden wall. Grace felt like she was ten years old again. As she listened to her brothers bicker, she watched the kids play rounders; they were shouting, cheering and running as fast as they could. Grace remembered all the summers she and her brothers had spent out on the road doing the exact same thing. The local children would join teams and play for hours. They would play until it was too dark to see the ball. And only then would they sadly part until the next day, when they could begin another game, race or adventure. Grace thought about Rachel's plans for her baby in San Diego, herself and Ethan's fancy house in Foxrock, and their own secluded home back in California. She had strived for electric gates, pools, prestigious addresses, fancy bathrooms, private gardens. But as she saw the happiness and ease of the kids – walking out of their houses, joining forces and playing – it made her think. She also appreciated how she wouldn't have survived the week if it hadn't been for her mum, brothers and kind neighbours. They had all
helped, and she was gradually realizing how important they were.

‘I don't think I want to move back to America,' she said out loud.

‘Are you serious?' asked Aidan, almost dropping his ice cream. ‘I thought you couldn't wait to get back to your cool house.'

‘I couldn't, but it's different now.' Grace watched a kid leave his bike out on the road, knowing it would be there the next day, ready for action.

‘I want a place where our child can safely walk out the door and play. Somewhere where there are tons of kids. I don't want him or her to be raised behind a big gate, they'd be lonely. I want what we had.'

Colm and Aidan both looked a little surprised.

‘OK, well, maybe a slightly bigger house than we had!'

They agreed.

‘And also I want you guys and Mum nearby. I don't have a clue about babies, I'll need her every step of the way.'

‘But what about Ethan?' asked Colm. ‘I thought he wanted to go home after the baby was born?'

Grace was stumped. It was the most obvious question but she didn't know how to answer it. It was going to be a problem. A huge problem.

BETH PRENDERGAST STOOD
in a long queue in Marks & Spencer's. She dipped one hand into the small plastic bag and pulled out a piece of the warm
pain au chocolat
. She rammed it into her mouth. The taste was so good it was unreal. She ate some more. She had become addicted to chocolate croissants. She'd heard of pregnancy cravings, but thought they were just an excuse people used when trying to justify why they ate mounds of chocolate and other fatty foods. But Beth realized now that these urges really did exist. All she wanted was
pains au chocolat
, and they had to be Marks & Spencer's, as they were the nicest. Luckily, as Beth worked on St Stephen's Green, she hadn't far to walk when popping down to Grafton Street to get her daily fix. But she felt it was getting a little out of hand. This morning, on her way to work, she had vowed to be strong and not buy one until lunchtime, when she would have time to stroll down and pick it up. But Beth had barely made it through her first board meeting this morning before needing to get her chocolate fix asap. It hadn't even been 10 a.m. when she had run out of the building, shouting to her assistant that she had to pop into the chemist. She hadn't wanted to admit she had to dash down to Marks again.

Finally Beth was at the head of the queue. She handed over
the little clear plastic bag. The shop assistant looked at her blankly.

‘What was in it?' he asked accusingly.

Beth was mortified when she realized she had eaten the whole thing while standing in the queue.

‘Do you want to keep the bag?' the young assistant asked smartly.

She declined, quickly paid for the item, and tried to walk as fast as she could back to work.

She'd just got into the office when her friend Susan walked by.
The girls stopped to talk.

‘Just had another
pain au chocolat
?' teased Susan.

Beth smiled as she pulled out the small mirror she kept in her handbag, and checked her face for chocolate. Twice she had been caught with chocolate smeared all over her mouth by Tom, and they hadn't been pretty conversations. She certainly didn't want to be accused of looking unprofessional again.

Beth was so glad she had Susan around. If it hadn't been for her, being pregnant at work would have been a nightmare. Beth had decided not to tell anyone in Burlington Stockbrokers until she was forced to. She'd thought she might get away with it for a few months. But one day after a long lunch in Café en Seine, Susan had come right out and asked her if she was pregnant.

‘If you're not pregnant, then you are sick, and I'm worried about you. You are tired and washed-out-looking and so quiet,' Susan had said, with a concerned look on her face.

Beth had known then that she could trust her only friend in Burlington, and so, against her own better judgement, she had been totally honest and admitted that she was sixteen weeks' pregnant.

‘Wow, you've hidden it well,' said Susan, after congratulating her friend.

‘Well, why do you think I've been wearing all these long shirts? They conceal everything! And really, I only started showing a few weeks ago,' admitted Beth. She had been so nervous about telling anyone from work, knowing they would ask who the father was. But Susan had been so kind, and so Beth had sworn her to secrecy, and told her it was Tom. Susan had spluttered out her coffee all over the table.

‘Tom Maloney? The head honcho? You are joking?' she'd finally said, after recovering from her shock.

Beth had shaken her head and told Susan all about their romance and break-up.

‘What a shit,' said Susan. ‘So he just dumped you when he heard the news? What a creep.'

Beth was mortified, as that was exactly how it had happened. After that disastrous night in his house, Tom had persuaded Beth to go to one more dinner in a fancy restaurant, in the hope of luring her back to him – without the baby, of course. But Beth had stood her ground, and so they had spent the meal discussing how the pregnancy would work. Tom said he would pay for all she needed, but he didn't want anything to do with the baby. He wouldn't be accompanying her on hospital visits, and certainly there would be no afternoons spent wandering around Mothercare picking out cots. But Beth had felt relief when the meal was over, because at least she had now known exactly where she stood. She and Tom had agreed that to make their working life easier she wouldn't tell anyone who the father was. There were times when she had wanted to shout it from the rooftops, so he could own up to his responsibilities; but admitting she had been sleeping with her boss would do her no favours, and so she had kept quiet until she'd spoken to Susan.