‘Let’s see the star of the show,’ said Kevin, brightly, sensing the happy mood faltering slightly. ‘Let’s have a peep at the new baby.’ Marion and Eddy parted slowly, to reveal the crib, and then they all gathered round Mavourna in a reverential silence.
‘Oh! She’s lovely. Isn’t she lovely?’ said Mrs Winters, eventually. ‘She’s the living image of myself at that age. There’s a photo of me at home, and you’d swear it was of this wee creature here.’
‘Were cameras invented when you were a baby?’ asked her amazed husband and she slapped him playfully on the arm. Marion was about to tell Martha Winters in no uncertain terms that Mavourna was clearly identical to Declan; but then Eddy gave his wife a beseeching look, and she said nothing.
Let her think that, if it makes her happy, Eddy’s eyes seemed to say. Marion smiled at him. He was so kind and understanding. Martha hadn’t been able to pay for the wedding, and she’d missed the birth. And in the years to come, Shirley would grow away from her mother and become the polished and elegant wife of a much-respected doctor. A likeness to herself was all Martha could salvage out of the entire saga.
‘Yes, she’s like your side of the family, all right,’ Marion said graciously, and they all stood there together in a happy and contented group, sighing and admiring the new baby in her green and white striped outfit.
An hour later, the nurse woke Shirley up, to try to get her to breastfeed the baby. Mr and Mrs Winters went to begin their shift, and Kevin and Kate left to open up the garage. Marion and Eddy went home to sleep. With some effort, they managed to get Declan to go with them. He’d need to sleep, too, they told him. He could come back in the afternoon. The nurse gave Shirley a cup of tea. Shirley savoured every drop of the hot amber liquid. It was the most delicious cup of tea she had ever tasted. The room was wonderfully peaceful. The walls were painted a soft green and there was a framed watercolour of a bowl of wild flowers, facing the bed.
‘Why can’t I have some breakfast?’ asked Shirley, when she saw the food trolley going past the door, with a big dinner plate of soggy toast sitting on it.
‘We’ll see about that,’ said the nurse. ‘You have stitches.’
‘Why haven’t I been to the loo?’ asked Shirley, suddenly, feeling the sheets. She hadn’t had a little accident, had she?
‘Catheter,’ said the nurse, casually. They both looked down to the side of the bed. ‘I’ll just pop a new bag on for you, love. That one’s half full.’
Shirley wanted to die of shame, but then realized she had no shame reserves left.
‘That’s not permanent, is it?’ she squeaked.
‘God, no,’ said the nurse. ‘Just for today.’
The baby began to cry with hunger.
‘You make yourself comfortable and I’ll pass you the baby.’
‘I’m not sure what to do,’ said Shirley, weakly. She’d forgotten that babies needed to be fed. Somehow, she’d thought that when the baby was born, that would be the end of all the fuss, and she could rest for a few days. But, no, the nurse was waiting patiently for her to unbutton her pyjama top. The bottoms had been washed and returned to her during the night. Her dressing gown was hanging on the back of the door, also freshly laundered. There was a small posy of flowers from the hospital shop on the window sill. Shirley wondered who was responsible for all these lovely things. Then the baby cried again. The nurse lifted her over to her mother. Mavourna’s mouth was wide open, like a baby bird waiting for a juicy worm.
‘No need for you to worry,’ said the new nurse, whose name was Betty. Shirley wondered if the other nurse had gone home. The one who had helped her to deliver Mavourna. Catherine was her name.
But Betty cut across her thoughts. ‘She knows what to do. Wait and see. Just make sure you get the whole nipple in right away. It’s hard to break the suction, once they start. If you need to reposition the baby’s mouth, stick your little finger in at the side. Off you go, now.’
Shirley thought it was a beautiful experience, although it was slightly painful. The baby was hungry, and she knew what to do all right! She fastened onto Shirley’s nipple and sucked with a strength that Shirley simply could not believe. It was incredible. Shirley’s breasts responded to the demand for milk. They were already enormous and growing bigger by the minute. Milk ran down the other breast in a steady stream, soaking the sheets. She’d have to get breast pads and a nursing bra. The baby’s fat little cheeks were going in and out with dedication. Shirley’s breath came out in shudders of joy. It was worth all the pain; worth all the months of backache and itchy skin. Worth the new pyjamas getting damp again.
‘Swap her over to the other breast, if you like,’ said Betty. Shirley slipped her finger in at the side of Mavourna’s mouth and lifted her across to the other breast. She cried crossly for a moment, then felt the nipple against her cheek. She opened her little mouth and clamped down hard. Shirley gasped with pain and pleasure. Then, the sucking began again. The baby closed her eyes and settled into a steady rhythm. She was very content.
‘There you are,’ said Betty. ‘You’re a natural.’ Shirley was delighted with herself. This almost made up for the fact that she’d wept like a lost child all through the labour and been unconscious for the delivery.
‘Is everyone as hopeless as I was?’ she asked Betty.
‘Everyone is different,’ said Betty, wisely. ‘Some people feel pain more than others.’ Then she changed the subject. ‘That’s a lovely name. Mavourna. What does it mean?’
‘It means the Little Darling. It’s Irish.’
‘That’s lovely. Well, I’ll leave you to bond. I’ll come back in a few minutes to change and sponge her. Then you can sleep.’
‘Betty, can I have a shower? I feel really stale.’
‘Tomorrow, maybe. Your stitches need time to take.’
‘Can I please have some food? I’m starving.’
‘Sorry.’ Betty shook her head.
‘Scrambled eggs, even? I think I smelt some, earlier.’
‘Tomorrow. Maybe.’
‘I know. My stitches.’
They both smiled. Then, Shirley noticed that Mavourna had stopped drinking and had fallen asleep.
‘The wee angel,’ whispered Shirley.
‘The wee rascal,’ said Betty. ‘She’ll be awake in an hour, wanting more.’ Betty then carried the baby back to her crib, changed her and washed her with a lukewarm sea-sponge. A fresh nappy and the lightest dusting of baby powder and she was utterly content. She sighed in her sleep, dreaming a baby dream.
Shirley slept too. The exhaustion of the last nine months caught up with her and she felt as if she was falling backwards through space. Within seconds, she was in a deep slumber. Even when Declan came to visit, and sat beside her and held her hand, she did not wake up. Even when the trolley came clanking down the corridor at lunchtime, sending the smell of steaming carrots and boiling custard through all the rooms, Shirley and Mavourna slept on without stirring. They had survived the torment of childbirth together and were now as close as two human beings could be. Closer even than Shirley could ever be to her husband. Nothing, but nothing, will ever come between us, Shirley said to herself, as she dreamt of power-showers and turkey dinners and chocolate cakes as big as double beds. I’m not going to let this child out of my sight until she’s twenty-one. Or maybe thirty-one…
32. Hollywood Hogan Takes a Gamble
Johnny sipped his coffee in the airport lounge. He had just landed in Aldergrove, after the long flight back from New York. America had been fantastic, he’d had the time of his life there, even enjoying a brief holiday fling with an air-hostess from Idaho. But he knew he did not belong there. The mighty skyscrapers in New York frightened the life out of him. He got vertigo in one of the rooftop restaurants when he saw a bird landing on the window sill, and had to come down again immediately. The yellow taxis seemed to go too fast and the drivers didn’t all speak English. There was too much choice in the diners, and the service was too fast. He never knew what he wanted when the waitress brought him a glass of water. Even when he asked for a burger and chips, it was no use. There were still endless questions to be answered. What kind of bun did he want? What kind of pickles? What kind of cheese? What kind of salad? And as for the chips? Did he really want
potato chips
with his burger? No, he wanted French fries. He could never remember to call them fries. Americans called chips ‘French fries’. And they called crisps ‘potato chips’. And the fries weren’t proper chips anyway. Proper chips were fat and greasy and made from fresh potatoes. Not those hard little sticks of maize in a cardboard envelope. (A good feed of proper Belfast chips would keep the hunger pangs at bay for two full days.) Even when he went to Graceland, he was glad that Elvis was dead. If he’d actually seen the King alive and walking around the mansion, Johnny knew his heart would have stopped beating on the spot. The sheer thrill of seeing Elvis in the flesh would have killed him, as surely as any no-warning bomb.
America was big and fast and furious and brutal and beautiful. And Johnny was tired of it; and hungry for the small-scale ordinariness of home. He was a small fish in a big pond. Eileen was correct about that. It was easy being a big fish in a little pond like Belfast. It was hard to admit a thing like that, even to himself. All his life, Hollywood Hogan had dreamt of riding a big, wild horse across his own ranch, and when he’d finally visited Texas, he was too scared to even get on one. He bought a cowboy hat and walked around in it for a day, and then he put it in his suitcase. As a souvenir. And then he’d made his plans to go home.
He’d spoken to Declan on the phone several times, and he knew the ballroom was still closed, and he was worried that it was getting damp and derelict. The boy had seemed so enthusiastic on the night of the raffle.
Johnny thought he was prepared for this scenario, but now he was not so sure. He missed the ballroom very badly. He wanted to get it up and running again. He’d even wept a little when he thought of the day he’d accidentlly smashed the bottle of cheap champagne over his best shoes at the launch.
Johnny tipped the waitress in the airport cafe, making sure she knew the money was from him. He picked up his suitcase, and went out to the car park. Hailing a black taxi, he longed to be back in the driving seat of his Lincoln. He hoped that thieves hadn’t taken it from the garage behind the house. And he decided, there and then, that he was going to call round to see Declan at his flat that very evening, and convince him to drop college for good, and open up the ballroom again. And he decided another thing as well. He was going to tell him that he was his real father. Maybe not right away, but when the time was right. And to hell with the consequences. Johnny had seen the Grand Canyon from a helicopter on the third week of his long vacation. Buzzing along the vast gorge that day, he suddenly realized that he didn’t have to be afraid of Marion and Eddy Greenwood any more.
33. The Beginning and the End
In bed one night, a few weeks later, Kate kissed Kevin gently on the cheek.
‘Kevin,’ she whispered. ‘I just wanted to tell you that I love you deeply. I didn’t marry you because Shirley was getting married. Really, I didn’t.’
‘I never said you did, pet.’
‘I know. But you thought it.’ She smiled at him.
‘No, I didn’t,’ he said.
‘Yes, Kevin. You did. But that’s okay. I didn’t handle things very well.’
‘We could have waited, you know? Planned our own wedding. I told you that, at the time.’
‘Well, anyway. We had a lovely day. Didn’t we? We’ll always have the memory of it.’
‘Yes, indeed. So, what is it you wanted to tell me?’
‘How do you know there’s something on my mind?’
‘I just know. You’re being very nice to me. Making me a nice dinner this evening, for one thing.’
‘I just took the notion of doing some home cooking. It was only chicken in a bit of cream and herbs. I got the recipe from a magazine.’
‘I didn’t know they had recipes in
Vogue
.’
‘Ha! I saw it in Mum’s copy of
Family Circle
.’
‘Did you? Well, it was great.’
‘Kevin, have you noticed I’ve been a little edgy recently?’
‘Yes. You told me to ignore it.’
‘Yes, I did. It was just something personal I had to work out for myself. Well, I’m fine now. I mean, I was fussing about various things, that’s all. But I’m fine now.’
‘That’s great, pet. I knew you would get over it.’
‘And I did. Listen. Kevin, I do want to talk to you. But first, let’s make love.’
‘Sure thing.’ And he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. She wriggled free of his muscular body and laughed.
‘Now, listen, stud. I want it to be different tonight. I want you to take things slowly. Kiss me first, gently. No, keep your hands on my back. Caress me very softly.’
‘Like this?’ He moved his palms across her waist and up to her shoulder blades.
‘Mmmm. That’s lovely. Touch the skin on my neck with the tip of your tongue. Softly, Kevin.’
‘I thought you liked me to be passionate?’
‘I do, pet. But at the very end, not at the beginning. You see?’
‘Okay.’
‘Tease me. Make me think you might stop at any moment.’
‘Will that make you want me more?’
‘Yes.’
‘Women! Are you all this hard to understand?’
‘Yes.’
He licked her neck as softly as he could, and kept up the caressing at the same time. For half an hour, there was no sound in the pale blue bedroom except for the ticking of the Belleek china clock on the mantelpiece, and the sensual sighs of Kevin McGovern and his dark-haired wife, Kate. It was very soothing for both of them.
‘Tell me I’m beautiful,’ she said, in a whisper.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, and then he laughed. ‘You know you’re beautiful.’
‘Don’t laugh! Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m beautiful, as if it never dawned on you before how lovely I am. Try to keep a straight face, Kevin. Try to look serious for a minute.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered, and he looked directly into her eyes, and he didn’t laugh, and Kate felt a faint flutter of excitement stirring within her.