Foreign Affairs (83 page)

‘I’ve a suit in the cleaners, it might be ready today. I could wear that if you feel it’s absolutely necessary.’ He grimaced.

‘I do,’ Jennifer said firmly, winking at Paula.

‘You’re a little dictator,’ Kieran retorted.

‘I am,’ Jennifer agreed. ‘And you need a little dictator in your life. That’s why I’m going to help you choose your replacement secretary for when I’m on my
maternity leave.’

Kieran’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re not serious?’ he declared.

Jennifer nodded.

‘When?’

‘November.’

‘Congratulations, Jenny, I’m delighted for you.’ Kieran stood up and came across to her desk and hugged her. ‘Well that’s a bit of a fib, actually.’ He
sighed. ‘You’re not going to leave me, are you? Please, Jenny, don’t leave me. I’ll really get going on this crèche business. I promise. I don’t think I could
face getting someone to replace you.’ Jennifer was secretly chuffed that her boss thought so highly of her. She liked working for Kieran and she hadn’t thought about giving up her job.
She wasn’t sure if she’d like to stay at home all day. Even Brenda was delighted to be working part-time again.

‘I haven’t really thought about it, Kieran,’ she said. ‘But it’s nice to know I’m appreciated.’

‘You are, you are,’ he said fervently. ‘Even if you do order me around and make me wear suits.’

The phone rang. ‘I’ve work to do even if you pair haven’t.’ Jennifer picked up the receiver and took the call.

Ronan phoned about four that afternoon to say the computer had gone down in the office, there was high drama and he’d probably be late. Paula happened to be in the office when the call
came through and, when Jennifer hung up, she suggested they go out for a meal. They hadn’t been out together for ages so they phoned up Beth and made arrangements to meet in Captain
America’s later that evening.

They had a lovely time, gossiping and laughing, and Beth was delighted when she heard Jennifer’s news. ‘I almost feel sorry for you in one way though,’ she said wickedly.
‘I don’t know how you’re going to pick a godmother for this infant.’

‘Oh, stop it,’ Jennifer groaned. ‘I suppose it will have to be Brenda. Can you imagine the huff she’ll get into if she isn’t godmother to my first? After all,
I’m Claudia’s godmother.’

‘Maybe you’ll have twins,’ Paula joked. ‘Ask Kieran to be the godfather and they’ll always get free hol-idays.’

‘You’re awful,’ Jennifer scolded. ‘Kieran’s very generous.’

‘I know he is,’ Paula agreed. ‘I’m just kidding.’

After their meal they strolled along to the Shelbourne and relaxed over a drink. Jennifer had soda water and lime. Now that she was pregnant she wasn’t drinking alcohol, and besides she
had the car and she never drove and drank. It was relaxing being with the girls and they hardly noticed the evening passing until Paula said with an exclamation of horror, ‘Lord Almighty,
it’s gone half eleven and I’m due on the seven a.m. flight to Heathrow in the morning. I’m off to Sardinia for a few days to scout around locations and I haven’t a stitch
ready.’

‘Lucky you.’ Beth sighed. ‘Surely with all the gorgeous men you meet, there must be someone who’s caught your fancy.’ Paula caught Jennifer’s sympathetic
gaze. Only Jennifer knew that Paula was crazy about Nick.

‘Men are more trouble than they’re worth,’ Paula said lightly, but her eyes were sad.

‘I’d have that kind of trouble any day,’ Beth grimaced. There was no man on her horizon and she was lonely.

‘Well if I don’t get home, I’ll be having man trouble.’ Jennifer stood up to go. ‘Beth, are you going to come with me or Paula?’

‘I’ll drop her home,’ Paula said. ‘It will save you all the trouble of having to go to Wadelai and back to Drumcondra.’

‘OK,’ Jennifer agreed. They walked her to her car and kissed her and wished her a safe journey home. Jennifer started up the engine, glanced in her mirror and slid out into the flow
of traffic around Stephen’s Green. She switched on her car radio.
Late Date
was just starting and she heard Val Joyce’s deep mellifluous tones introducing Dean Martin, singing
Memories Are Made of This
. Very apt, she thought happily and hummed along. The traffic was light and she reached Drumcondra in less than twelve minutes. She was driving through the Botanic
Avenue junction when a car broke the red light. She saw it coming, tried to swerve, but it was too late. Jennifer felt immense terror as she felt the impact of the car and was sent skidding across
the road. Her last thought before darkness enveloped her was of her baby.

Chapter Eighty-Three

‘I’m here, Jennifer, you’re all right.’ She could hear Ronan’s voice from a distance. Jennifer felt very peculiar. She opened her eyes, saw Ronan
gazing down at her in concern, and closed them again. The world stopped swaying.

‘The baby?’ she asked dry-mouthed.

‘It’s OK. The two of you are OK.’ Ronan didn’t dare tell Jennifer that the doctors were worried about the baby. She was lucky to be alive and to have escaped relatively
lightly from the crash. She had two broken ribs, bruising and concussion. More seriously, she was threatened with a miscarriage.

‘Ronan?’ Jennifer started to cry.

‘It’s all right, Jennifer,’ he soothed. ‘The doctors and nurses are taking care of you.’ A nurse came, accompanied by a doctor. ‘We have to examine Mrs
Stapleton,’ she said gently. ‘You can come back when we’re finished.’

Ronan nodded and walked through the cubicle curtains. He felt like crying. When he saw Jennifer all bruised and battered he wanted to strangle the drunken driver who’d crashed into her.
Kit and Jim were in the waiting-room.

‘She’s awake,’ he said tiredly. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen about the baby.’

‘Oh, Ronan, I’m sorry.’ Kit started to cry. Ronan put his arms around his mother-in-law. ‘It could have been worse,’ he said gently. ‘Jennifer could have been
killed.’ Jim went and got them coffee and they sat silently, waiting until Ronan was allowed back into the ward.

He stayed with her as long as he was allowed and begged the nurse to let Kit and Jim say goodnight to Jennifer.

‘Only for a minute,’ the nurse warned. After Kit and Jim had kissed her tenderly and told her not to worry, he brought his parents-in-law home. They made him stay the night with
them. He lay in Jennifer’s old bed but he could not sleep. All he could think of was the moment when he opened his front door to find a policeman standing on his doorstep with the news that
Jennifer had been in a car crash.

Ronan started to cry. If anything happened to Jennifer he’d never get over it. She was his rock. His life revolved around her. ‘
Please, God, take care of Jenny and let our baby
be all right
,’ he prayed earnestly, wishing the night was over so that he could be with her.

She was the most beautiful baby Jennifer had ever seen. It was Danielle lying in her arms. She had big blue eyes and long black lashes and a downy head of dark hair, a little
button nose and a perfect rosebud mouth. Jennifer felt utterly serene as she held her baby. It was as if they could read each other’s minds.

I’m your baby, I’m Danielle.

I know, my darling. I love you.

I love you too. Don’t be sad. I’ll always be with you.

Jennifer gazed into her daughter’s bright blue eyes. The love she felt for her overwhelmed her. All that night she held her daughter in her arms until just before dawn when the baby closed
her eyes and Jennifer felt a terrible grief. She woke with a start and knew her baby was dead. Some time later she began to miscarry.

‘She was beautiful, she came to say goodbye to me. She stayed with me all night. She just lay in my arms looking at me and I knew what was in her mind and she knew what was in mine.’
Jennifer sobbed against Ronan’s shoulder. ‘I’ll never forget her eyes, Ronan. Oh my baby! My beautiful, beautiful little baby.’ Jennifer clung to Ronan, who tried his best
to comfort her. She had obviously been hallucinating from the drugs they’d given her. But if it comforted Jenny to think the baby had come to her, he wasn’t going to say otherwise.

Jennifer leaned against Ronan and felt his strength. They’d have another baby, she knew it. But no child would ever be as precious as her little blue-eyed daughter who’d come to her
in the night and said goodbye.

Chapter Eighty-Four

‘Can I have a word with you, Rachel?’ Noreen knocked on the bedroom door. Rachel’s heart sank. Not another loan. Noreen was always the same, borrowing and
conveniently forgetting to pay it back. It wasn’t only money she borrowed. She constantly ‘borrowed’ from Rachel’s wardrobe and used her make-up. It was very irritating.

Rachel felt ghastly. She wasn’t in the mood for Noreen. She had laryngitis and tonsillitis. The antibiotics she was taking made her feel sick. She was out on a Cert for a week. She
wouldn’t be back to work until after Easter, but already she was fed up being on her own in the house every day. Still, she’d rather be on her own than have to listen to Noreen
rabbiting on.

‘Rachel, are you awake?’ Noreen called.

‘Yeah, come in,’ she croaked.

Noreen peered around the door. ‘I won’t come right in,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to catch anything.’

Typical, thought Rachel. Her landlady was not the most sympathetic of characters.

‘What’s wrong?’ Rachel asked.

‘Well I know you probably won’t be too happy about it but I’m selling the house. I’ve got a visa, I’m going to the States.’

Rachel was gobsmacked. ‘Oh,’ she said inadequately. ‘Oh . . . fine.’

‘I thought I’d better let you know, so you can start looking for another place. Or maybe you could go home for a while. The sign is going up tomorrow and the auctioneer expects a
quick sale,’ Noreen said briskly. ‘I’m off now, I’m going to Wexford for the weekend. I hope you’ll be feeling better. See ya.’

‘See you,’ Rachel murmured. She lay back against the pillows and let the news sink in. Now that it had come to it, she wasn’t dreadfully sorry to hear that Noreen was selling.
It meant that she was going to have to get up off her butt and get a place of her own.

She had more than enough in her building society for a mortgage but she had made no move to get a place of her own. My trouble, Rachel thought crossly, is that I don’t like hassle. She
pulled the duvet up under her chin and wished Noreen had not made her disturbing announcement. She was just going to have to endure a bit of hassle and that was all there was about it. Rachel felt
glum at the thought. If anyone had told her she’d still be sharing with Noreen and still be teaching in St Catherine’s after four years, she wouldn’t have believed it.

After she left home she’d scuttled under the nearest rock she could find and stayed there. Well her rock was gone, she was out in the open now. She was going to have to sink or swim. One
thing was certain, she was not going back to Rathbarry.

Rachel got up out of bed and wrapped her dressing-gown around her. She was just as glad that she had the house to herself. At least she wouldn’t have to listen to Van Morrison caterwauling
all weekend. Noreen played him non-stop as loud as she dared. The neighbours had complained several times.

The sitting-room looked as if a bomb had hit it. The kitchen was even worse. Noreen was dead lazy about the house. But then, she had a lodger to run around after her, Rachel thought wryly. She
was sick of it, Rachel decided as she tipped a brimming ashtray into the fireplace.

Not that she had any sympathy for herself. She needn’t have stayed once she’d got to know what Noreen was like. She had every opportunity to go and get her own place. She was earning
good money. There were plenty of houses for sale. She was just a lazy coward, Rachel chastised herself.

She tidied up the sitting-room, set the fire, lit it and made herself a cup of tea and buttered some cream crackers. Then she picked up the evening paper that Noreen had stuffed down the side of
the chair. Rachel turned to the property pages and perused them with interest. She was doing sums in her head when the phone rang. It was Ronan to tell her that Jennifer had had an accident and was
in danger of losing the baby. Rachel didn’t hesitate.

‘I’ll be up in two hours,’ she promised. ‘I’ll just pack a bag.’ She raced around the place trying to get herself organized. ‘Stop panicking, Jennifer
needs you,’ she muttered as she let her antibiotics fall. She damped down the fire and put the fireguard up. Her cup and plate lay where she’d left them. Rachel switched off the light
and closed the door. For once she was going to leave her dishes. The sitting-room was a damn sight tidier than when Noreen had left it, even with a dirty cup and saucer on the floor.

Rachel put her bag in the boot, put her foot on the accelerator and drove as fast as she could to Dublin. She had decisions to make, she knew, but right now Jennifer was her priority. Her
sister-in-law had always been very good to her. Now she might be able to do something to repay that kindness. It was the least she could do. Maybe when she was in Dublin she would see a house she
liked. There was nothing written in stone to say she had to live in Bray for the rest of her life.

Chapter Eighty-Five

The party was in full swing. She’d been a director of TransCon for a year now and Paula had decided it was time she bought a place of her own. She’d looked at
houses, and mews and apartments. She knew what she wanted. A place with all mod cons, easy to maintain, near enough to the office and the airport.

‘I suppose now that you’re a director, you’ll be heading for Dublin 4,’ Jenny had teased her, but Paula wasn’t going to spend hours stuck in traffic so that she
could have a posh postal address. In the end she’d bought a two-bedroom apartment not far from her rented one. It was in a small exclusive complex off Griffith Avenue, near enough to where
she’d lived with Helen all those years ago.

It was on the top floor of a three-floor block. Her sitting-room looked south to the mountains. Paula decorated the apartment in light warm pastel colours. Her kitchen was pine. She bought a
pine dresser like her mother had. It made her think of home. But that was where the resemblance ended. Paula’s fitted kitchen was as modern as could be. She had a small utility room off it
for the washing-machine, tumble-drier and ironing board. The lounge was bright and spacious. She kept it uncluttered, with just two huge plush sofas at right angles to the fire and a low
marble-topped coffee table in between them. She used apricot and cream colours. It was a warm welcoming room in winter and cool and airy in summer. French doors led to a tiled south-facing balcony
that ran the length of the apartment. A small alcove off the lounge opened out into a dining area. She had shelves built on the back wall and kept all her books and records and CDs neatly stacked.
In front of them was a round oak table and six chairs which matched her fitted shelves.