‘What on earth for?’ Dominique replaced her cup on its saucer.
‘To see if he’d do a novena for Mam.’
‘Oh.’
‘And for me too, of course, for the baby. Every little helps, and it’s his job to pray, after all,’ said Emma.
‘Well, yes. But do you believe in all that stuff?’
‘Can’t hurt,’ said Emma. ‘Do you have a number for him?’
‘Sure. Hold on a second.’ Dominique opened her handbag and took out a slimline diary with the interlocking double-D logo of Delahaye Developments on it.
She opened the diary, found the phone number for Gabriel’s parish house and gave it to Emma.
‘I’m sure your mam will be fine,’ she said comfortingly.
‘I hope so.’ Emma looked worried. ‘To be honest, I have a bad feeling about this. But maybe I’m just being hormonal. That’s why I wanted to talk to Gabriel about the prayers.’
‘D’you want to drop by and visit us later?’ asked Dominique. ‘You’re very welcome, and Kelly will certainly distract you from your hormones.’
Emma smiled. ‘No doubt she would. And I’d love to call by, but not this weekend. I have to stay with Mam.’
‘Sure, no problem.’
Emma looked at her watch. ‘I’d better be going. I don’t want Dad fretting.’
‘And I guess I’d better be home before my daughter,’ said Dominique.
‘I find it hard to think of you as a married woman with a ten-year-old,’ said Emma.
‘Really? Why?’
‘Back at school, I never thought of you as the marrying kind.’
‘I suppose not,’ said Dominique, remembering the time that Emma had called her an ugly cow who’d die an old maid because no guy in his right mind would fancy her.
‘And here we are related now. Who would’ve put money on that?’
‘Who indeed?’ asked Dominique.
‘Life’s funny that way.’
Dominique glanced at Emma. ‘Remember the ridiculous crush you had on Gabriel?’
‘We’ve all moved on since we were living in Drimnagh,’ said Emma impatiently. ‘We’re totally different people now.’
Dominique nodded. Her life had changed immeasurably since those days. And yet somehow she didn’t feel different at all.
‘I didn’t think Greg had it in him,’ remarked Brendan in bed that night when Dominique told him Emma’s news. She looked at him in surprise.
‘Well, really,’ he said. ‘They’ve been married for ages.’
‘Yes, but not everyone rushes into having kids,’ said Dominique.
‘True. Are they planning a big family?’
‘I don’t know.’ She glanced at him. ‘That’s not the sort of question you ask.’
‘I suppose not. And the answer might well depend on how well things go first time.’
She said nothing.
‘That wasn’t a dig,’ he told her. ‘Just a statement of fact.’
‘I know.’
‘So don’t go all gloomy on me.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Good,’ he said as he loosened the ribbon on her flimsy nightdress. ‘I’m not in the mood for gloomy.’
‘Neither am I,’ she assured him and slipped the nightdress over her head.
Chapter 10
It had, in fact, been nearly six months after Kelly was born before they’d had sex again. For much of that time Dominique hadn’t been interested, although she was acutely aware that this was something that had the power to destroy her marriage. But even though she knew that turning away from Brendan at night wouldn’t make things any better, she was utterly unable to make love to him. Sometimes, as the depression lifted, she would turn to him and he would kiss her and hold her and she knew that he wanted to make love to her. And she wanted to make love to him too, but every time she thought about the possibility of getting pregnant again, she would tense up so much that he knew there was no point in coming near her. It wasn’t until after she’d mentally replayed over and over again the phone call in which he’d talked about leaving her that she spoke to the doctor about it. He prescribed the pill, telling her to come back to him immediately if it started having side effects, because she was still taking the antidepressants too. She thought that she’d feel even more useless then. But to her surprise she didn’t. Being on the pill gave her a sudden sense of release. She could make love to Brendan and she wouldn’t get pregnant and everything would be OK.
And it was.
Until he asked if she felt ready to have another baby.
He’d first broached the subject after Kelly’s second birthday. By then, Dominique had completely recovered from her post-natal depression. She was no longer taking antidepressants and the feelings of despair that used to overwhelm her had passed. There were no black days or grey days or even blue days. She could even look back and recall her emergency Caesarean without thinking that it had been the worst moment of her life. The dreams in which her motherhood of Kelly had been questioned had stopped too. She felt like a real person again.
She was involved in the residents’ association, in charge of producing their quarterly newsletter. She liked feeling part of the community and was comfortable with the other people on the committee. She didn’t need to go to her support group any more. Socially, she was having a good time with Brendan. Their increased income meant that they went out more often, and occasionally, too, they held dinner parties at home, which she always enjoyed, because she was good at entertaining, realising she had a knack for sitting the right people beside each other. Secretly, too, she liked the compliments afterwards. Despite everything she’d become involved in, however, she liked being a mother most of all. Now, when she was with Kelly, she felt what she had always thought she should feel, what she had been so guilty about not feeling: a surge of love and a desire to protect her daughter no matter what. When Kelly cried, she hurried to see what was wrong. When Kelly laughed, she laughed too. Suddenly she was all right with being a mother. She knew how to do it. She was, she thought, actually quite good at it.
But when Brendan suggested to her that perhaps it might be time to think about a brother or a sister for Kelly, she felt a sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach and for a moment she thought that she was going to faint. It wasn’t the physical aspect of what might happen that worried her the most, although she knew that she was terrified about the idea of giving birth again. It was the fact that this time she might fail her baby.
She’d almost failed Kelly. She couldn’t take that risk again.
She didn’t say this to Brendan. He’d done his best while she’d been unwell but she knew he hadn’t really understood it. And she knew that he thought it was a result of Kelly’s crisis delivery. They’d both been told that if she was going to have another child, an elective Caesarean would be a good idea, so there was little chance of things developing into a full-blown emergency as they had before.
But she was still afraid. She was disgusted by herself and her fear. She was appalled by her inability to do what Brendan wanted. What he deserved. Yet she knew that if she stopped taking the pill, she wouldn’t be able to make love to him. She knew that without even having to think about it.
She lied to him. She told him that she’d stopped, but actually she moved her supply from the bathroom cabinet to the inside pocket of her kitbag. She went to the gym once a week for the mother-and-baby swim with Kelly. Brendan had no need to go near her bag. And she knew that he would never suspect her of lying.
She knew it was foolish of her to think that he wouldn’t wonder about it. After all, she’d got pregnant pretty easily the first time. He couldn’t understand why she wasn’t pregnant now. He wondered if there was something wrong and whether it would be worth seeing a doctor. She told him that if they went to the doctor he’d tell them to relax and keep trying. Give it a little more time, she suggested. We’ll worry about it in a couple of months.
But deceiving him was stressing her out completely. She knew that what she was doing was wrong, and every day she felt worse and worse about it. But it was too late to tell him about the pill. He’d kill her if he found out. Well, leave her at any rate. And she couldn’t let him leave now.
Greg came up to Dublin for a technology course. He rarely stayed in the city overnight, but whenever he did, he stayed with Brendan and Dominique. When Dominique made up the guest room, Kelly, who loved Greg passionately, insisted on leaving chocolate buttons on the pillow for him as a present.
He arrived at the house at five o’clock in the evening, while Brendan was still out at work. His eyes were red - from too much peering at the computer screen, he told Dominique, who got him some Optrex from the bathroom cabinet.
‘So how are you?’ he asked as he swilled the liquid around his eye.
‘Grand,’ she told him.
‘Where’s the lovely Kelly?’ He refilled the plastic eyebath and washed his other eye.
‘Having a nap,’ she told him. ‘When she wasn’t helping me to do up your room, she was playing in the garden with her friends, and she’s just flaked out. Well, I say playing, but most of it was fighting with the cute little boy from down the road. She gave him such grief.’
‘A lovely little thing like her! I don’t believe you.’
Dominique laughed. ‘Kelly is a demon. Brendan says that she’s as tough as a boy, which always causes a row, because girls are tough anyway. Though not always rough, perhaps.’
‘Aha! A closet feminist.’
‘Not at all,’ she assured him. ‘Just stating a fact.’
‘Oh well, you know how old-fashioned Bren is about things. He still thinks women are weak and fragile creatures who need to be protected from everything.’
Dominique busied herself filling the kettle.
‘And I guess he still dreams of a son, so that he has someone to follow him into the business,’ said Greg carefully.
She turned to look at him. ‘Has he said anything to you?’
‘Only that you’re trying again. I’m sure it’ll be fine this time, Domino.’
She turned away again. The tears had flooded her eyes and she didn’t want him to see them. But he knew anyway. He got up and walked over to her.
‘What’s the matter?’
This was one thing she just couldn’t share with him. He’d be horrified that she was lying to his brother. He’d have to tell Brendan. And then what would happen?
But she couldn’t stop herself. It was just like when he’d called to see her during her depression. Suddenly the words spilled out of her mouth and she told him about hiding the pill and that she was the most horrible person in the world and that she didn’t know what to do.
‘You have to tell him the truth,’ said Greg after she’d finished. ‘You can’t live a lie, Domino.’
‘I know, I know. But he’ll hate me for ever.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Oh, Greg, he married me out of pity but I couldn’t bear to lose him.’
‘He married you because he loved you, and he still loves you,’ said Greg firmly. ‘You have to tell him the truth.’
‘I can’t.’ She was crying again, and he looked at her sympathetically and then folded her into a hug and held her close. ‘We used to say that we had no secrets from each other, but that’s all changed and it’s my fault. Whatever else, I can’t tell him about this!’
‘You don’t have to tell him about the pill,’ said Greg. ‘Just that you don’t want to have another child.’
Dominique looked up at him.
‘You owe it to him to say it,’ Greg told her ‘Otherwise you’re living a lie and your marriage will eventually fall apart.’
‘Oh, Greg.’ She buried her head in his shoulder again. ‘Why is it I can spill my guts to you but not to Brendan?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Greg.
‘And why are you always right?’ She sniffed.