Two Months Later

“Have you packed the nappies?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And the baby wipes?”

“Yes.”

“I need them back here a minute,” I said. “She’s done a right messy one.”

I stood looking around Eva’s nursery, which we had just finished decorating. We had moved into a three-bedroom house with a little garden in Hampstead, belonging to Geoff, just two weeks before. We didn’t know ourselves with the extra space and we were still so central to everything. We had set about decorating Eva’s nursery first. Ben had ripped up the old carpet and sanded down the floorboards. We painted the walls a lovely biscuit colour and Ben had stencilled a clown print all along the top border of the room. A polished mahogany cot stood in the centre of the room with a mobile of colourful circus animals hanging above it. I was really happy with how it had turned out.

I changed Eva again and bundled her into her snowsuit before handing her to Ben. He strapped her into her car seat while I ran around checking and double-checking that we hadn’t forgotten anything. Nappies, wipes, clothes, cream, cloths . . .

“Come on, we don’t want to be late,” Ben pressed.

“Right, okay,” I sighed. It still amazed me how long it took to leave the house with Eva in tow. “I think that’s everything. Oh crap, did you put the buggy in – it’s in the utility room?”

“Don’t worry, it’s in the boot.”

“Right,” I said, “we’d better go.” I grabbed my down jacket off the coat-stand and put my arms into it. I wrapped my lambswool scarf double around my neck.

We went outside and Ben clicked Eva’s car seat into the back and I got into the front seat. It was a cold November morning and I could see my breath on the air in front of me. Ben had had to de-ice the windscreen and the puddles were covered with a lid of ice begging to be jumped on. He started the car and we set off.

We hit the rush-hour gridlock and, as we sat there, my eyes kept checking the clock in case we were going to be late. Finally, the traffic moved on and we reached the airport. We parked the car and hurried in to the Arrivals hall to wait for them.

“Can you see them?” I asked Ben as I scanned the crowd of people. He was taller than me so had the advantage when it came to things like this.

“No sign of them yet anyway – they’re probably stuck in baggage reclaim – you know how slow it can be.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said nervously.

“Kate – just relax. It’s all going to be fine.” He put his arm around my shoulder. He had Eva in her sling and her little head was cuddled in against his chest as she dozed. It was at times like this when I looked at the two of them together, the two people that I loved most in the whole world, that I felt my heart surge with happiness. I leant over and kissed her downy hair. I would lay my life on the line for her.

Finally I spotted them coming through the crowd, wheeling their cases behind them.

“Dad, Aoife, over here!”

They were coming to meet Baby Eva for the first time. Gran was going to stay with Patrick and Luisa for the weekend. They picked us out amongst the sea of faces and waved. I ran over towards them, ready to start this new chapter with my family.

Look at you there, doing great – you’re a natural at it, Kate. You’ve taken to motherhood like a duck to water. I knew you would though. Yourself and Ben are doing a great job. Sure you don’t need me at all – I would only be in your way. You got a good one there, Kate, let me tell you – she’s a dream baby. And, my goodness, she’s a little beauty, isn’t she? She looks just like you at that age. Oh, and I love the name! Enjoy those newborn cuddles, there is nothing quite like them. They don’t be long growing up and, before you know it, you’ll have a head-banging two-year-old on your hands. I’m glad you’ve made up with your dad and you’re working on getting to know Aoife too – you don’t know how happy this makes me. You of all people know that sometimes life can be unfair, Kate, but you’ve picked yourself up and I’m so proud of the way you’ve turned out and the woman that you’ve grown into today.

THE END

If you enjoyed

The Last Goodbye by Caroline Finnerty

why not try

In a Moment also published

by Poolbeg?

Here’s a sneak preview of the prologue

and chapters one and two.

In a Moment Prologue

She felt her knees buckle beneath her and she reached out to grab onto the post of the staircase. She used it to guide herself downwards so that she was sitting on the bottom step. Just as she thought she might be starting to heal, taking tentative steps forward, this had come and knocked her off balance again. She wasn’t expecting it – it was like a below-the-belt punch coming at her, leaving her reeling in its wake. She needed to see his face, as if somehow by looking at him it would confirm that he had been a real person. She ran upstairs and into her bedroom. Pulling out the drawer of her bedside table, she reached for his photo.

In a Moment Chapter 1

Winter, 2010

The lift doors separated and Adam White stepped out into the bright reception of Parker & Associates. As he walked across the high-glaze cream travertine tiles he was almost overpowered by the scent emanating from the two extravagant conical vases standing on either side of the reception desk. They were brimming with fresh metre-high arrangements of snapdragons, burnt-orange birds of paradise and fuchsia-toned orchids. The area was minimally furnished with only a simple Scandinavian-style bench, which was more for show than functionality.

Parker & Associates was a young firm of business analysts located just off the Grand Canal on the south side of Dublin City. Their ultra-modern headquarters took over the entire topfloor of the building and consisted of floor-to-ceiling glazed offices surrounding a central roof garden. Depending on which end of the office you went to, the view extended all the way up to Howth Head on the northside of the city or down to Killiney Hill on the southside.

By the time Adam had grabbed himself a coffee, sat at his desk and switched on his PC, his rising in the small hours of the morning seemed like eons ago. He rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time. He felt fuzzy with tiredness, he found it hard even to think straight, his reactions were slow and his whole body felt heavy as if he was lugging two huge suitcases on either side of him whenever he walked. As he tried to concentrate on a spreadsheet on the screen in front of him, the rows seemed to merge together.

Although it was eight thirty, it was very early by Parker’s standards and the office was still largely empty. On any given day the majority of people wouldn’t arrive in until nine at the earliest but normally on Friday people didn’t show their faces until much later after the ritual of Thursday-night drinks. Fridays were a write-off as far as work was concerned; it was generally accepted that you did only the bare minimum to get by and then spent Monday to Thursday making up for it. The company prided itself on its ‘relaxed and casual’ culture. The open-plan office was decorated with leafy, tropical foliage and beanbags were interspersed randomly to help soften the corporate feel. Croissants and pastries were delivered fresh from the local bakery every morning and there were always baskets scattered arbitrarily around the place, brimming with sweets and chocolate. Employees were also welcome to help themselves to the fully stocked fridge which was laden with ice-cream and softdrinks. It was lamented by all who worked there that once you joined Parker & Associates, there was no avoiding gaining the ‘Parker-stone’.

A while laterAdam’s colleagues started arriving in. He greeted them and watched as one by one they dropped their bags at their desks before heading straight to the staff room for a pecan-nut pie, the only pastry deemed suitable for the hangover of Fridays.

Emma made her way with slow footsteps down the grey vinyled corridor. As she walked, she couldn’t help but think what a contagious shade of grey it was; it wasn’t the soft dove-grey of a cashmere sweater or the inky grey of a stormcloud before it burst – it was that awful shade of grey that sucked the life out of you just from merely looking at it. As she rounded the corner, she could hear the high-pitched screeches coming from behind the canteen door. Well, ‘canteen’ was probably stretching it – it was a room barely six metres square. The floor was covered with worn lino and it was sparsely furnished with a Formica table, six red shiny plastic-backed chairs, a cork noticeboard and a dire fridge where, no matter how many group emails were sent warning users to discard their foods after their best-before date, noone ever seemed to lay claim to the mouldy ham.

You could almost tell the day of the week it was by the roars thatfiltered out into the corridor. Fridays were full of raucous laughter; Mondays were a more sombre, almost silent affair.

Emma pushed open the door and glanced around at the usual posse of girls sitting at the table scattered with takeaway sandwich-wrappers and foil crisp-bags. The roars from two seconds earlier disappeared almost like someone had twisted a volume-switch on the whole room. Nothing new there, she thought to herself. She was used to having this effect on people recently. The stench from some rice-and-ham dish that Dan from IT was reheating in the microwave almost made her gag.

“Hiya, Emma. Busy?” Helen the receptionist chimed, in an overly cheery voice.

“Y’know yourself, kept going.”

Helen nodded. “Tell me about it.”

What would you know about being busy unless it’s trying to stick your gel nail back on and answer the phone at the same time?

“That won’t keep you going!” Helen nodded to the teabag that Emma wastaking out of the jar above the microwave.

“I’m not hungry just now, I’ll grab something later.”

Emma knew her tone sounded defensive, but she felt self-conscious in front of the group about her lack of lunch – but she just couldn’t stomach anything right now. She turned away from Helen and her cronies and as soon as the kettle had boiled she busied herself by pouring boiling water onto her teabag.

Helen turned back around to her gang and proceeded to moan about how her bridesmaid had put on weight since the last dress fitting and that now she would have to get the dress altered for her. Her audience tutted in sympathy and agreed that her friend had some cheek to gain a few pounds. One of them even added that if she were a real friend she would at least offer to do the cabbage-soup diet to fit back into the dress. Emma wasn’t included in the conversation, nor did she want to be.

Emma worked on the creative team for A1 Adverts but A1 Adverts was not your typical glamorous advertising agency residing in beautiful glazed offices with a sea view and bountiful budgets. Rather A1 specialised in bright and zingy ‘can’t get it out of your head’ type adverts for their clients. A1’s specialty was the discount market; they didn’t do the high-end adverts that won awards. How she would love to work on campaigns such as those! A1’s customers were discount furniture stores, tile shops, budget airlines and basically anyone in the business of discount retailing in Ireland. All their adverts were the same: flashing bubble-text on a neon-coloured background and always backed with shouty voices. In fairness to A1 Adverts, it was a model that worked; they were cheaper than their competitors and they were tailored to that end of the market. But it was a long, long way from the glossy editorials with their subtle imaging that she had spent so much time analysing in college. Emma was a ‘campaign developer’ – in other words, she had to come up with new ideas for their clients’ adverts.

She went back, sat at her desk and sighed wearily as she scrolled down to the next red-flagged email from her overflowing inbox. No matter how hard she tried, she never seemed to be able to get on top of the work that was piling up around her. At the moment she was working on a pitch for a company called Sofa World whichhad asked Dublin’s top advertising agencies to come up with a tagline for their Christmas campaign. Oh, she was a long way from Chanel adverts starring Keira Knightley! It was very late for launching a Christmas campaign. A1 suspected Sofa World had rejected other advertisers' efforts before turning to them at the last minute.

Moments later, Emma’s boss Maureen Hanley popped her head around the screen of her cubicle. Her frizzy hair was tied back with a scrunchy in a manner that made Emma wonder if the woman even possessed a hairbrush.

“Hi, Emma – can you come in for a chat in five?”

Emma felt herself redden as if Maureen could read her mind about what she had just been thinking. “Sure.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing major,” Maureen added, obviously noticing Emma’s red face.

Emma hated her high colouring; it always betrayed her innermost feelings. At the drop of a hat her cheeks would go red for almost any reason: embarrassment, frustration, alcohol, spicy food, and God forbid she should try to tell a lie. Emma just had to acceptit was part and parcel of the rawdeal of having fair skin.

She watched as Maureen walked back to her office in her black pencil-leg trousers that didn’t quite meet her court shoes and revealed her white cotton socks. On top she wore a brown tweed blazer buttoned entirely up to the top so that it was puckered across her large bust; she’d had that blazer ever since Emma had started working there seven years ago and Emma imagined she had probably had it at least seven years before that. Maureen was a harmless enough sort of woman – well, as much as a boss can be harmless. She had never married; she’d been too busy sacrificing her life for A1 Adverts. The woman lived and breathed A1, so Emma suspected that the only reason she wanted a meeting was probably because she wanted her to jump up and down about the chance to pitch to Sofa World. But Emma would not be doing any jumping.

Five minutes later Emma grabbed her A4 refill pad so she could scribble down any ideas that would be thrown at her and walked back down the life-sucking, grey-vinyled corridor towardsMaureen’s office. She knocked on her door and let herself in. Maureen looked up from her computer, almost in confusion.

Don’t tell me she doesn’t remember asking me to come in five minutes ago?

“Oh yes, of course, Emma – come in and sit down.” She let out a heavy sigh as sheset about clearing bundles of paper and mugs with coffee stains running down the sides off the messy desk in front of her.

Emma did as she was told and sat opposite her.

Emma cut to the chase. “Did you see the email from Sofa World?”

“What?” Maureen was distracted. “Oh yes, I saw that. You might draftsomething up and send it on and we can sit down then and have a look, yes?”

Emma was taken aback. What did Maureen want her for if not that?

“Well, Emma . . .” Maureen paused.

Well, Maureen. Emma felt she should say something but Maureen’s tone told her it wasn’t her place to speak.

“Well . . . God, Emma I’m not sure how to broach this . . .” She breathed indeeply through her nostrils, so that they flared slightly. “Well, it’s just I’ve noticed you’ve been putting in a lot of hours here lately. Some of the times on your emails have me worried – eleven p.m., midnight – there was even one at two a.m. last week! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all too happy for people to show their commitment to A1 Adverts but well . . .” She hesitated. “Just with everything going on, I’m a bit worried about you, that’s all.” She was starting to get flustered. “What I’m trying to say is – and I’m not doing a very good job of it – I know you’re a good worker, I’ve never had a problem with your work. I just want you to make sure you’re looking after yourself? That’s all.”

Emma was stunned; she wasn’t used to such public displays of concern from Maureen. She instantly felt the heat creep into her cheeks. I don’t want to talk about this.

“I’m okay, Maureen,” she said coolly so that Maureen would know it wasn’t adiscussion she wished to get into.

“Well, that’s good then,” Maureen added nervously. “It’s just, you’re not long back and well . . . well, I think you should ease yourself in a bit, that’s all.”

Emma shifted in her seat and the discomfort between the two was palpable.

“Okay, so you’ll send me on your proposal for Sofa World then?” Maureen said in an obvious decision to change the subject.

“I’ll have something for you by Monday afternoon,” Emma replied curtly.

“Great, so.”

“Right, if that’s all?”

Maureen gestured to the door, indicating Emma was free to go. Emma stood up to leave. She wanted to get the hell out of there. She wasn’t a person who liked discussing her feelings at the best of times, least of all with her boss.

She went back and sat at her desk and the more she thought about the conversation she’d just had, the more she felt rage building inside her. Why were people so nosy, always trying to push it with her to see if they could be the one to make her crack and fall apart into a mess? It was nobody’s business what time she worked until. If she was skiving off, they’d be on her back – she couldn’t win! She was used to Helen and the rest of them pushing her buttons, trying their best to see if they could be the one to elicit a reaction. But Maureen? She had expected more from her boss. They had always had a perfectly healthy standoffish relationship, so what the hell was Maureen doing trying to change the playing field?

Jesus, what had got into the woman? Surely she was too old for the menopause?

In a Moment Chapter 2

Come three o’clock and as the hangovers began to ease, Parker’s entire workforce were already planning where they would head later on that night and at five to fivethey began to pack up to leave.

Adam was just heading for the lift when Ronan from Accounts joined him.

“Are you coming for one?”

“Nah, I should probably be heading home.” Adam was hesitant. Not that it would make any difference, he thought bitterly to himself. She barely spoke to him anyway.

“C’mon for one!”

“I’d better not – maybe next time, yeah?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“No worries.”

They took the lift down.

“See you Monday, so,” said Ronan.

“Have a good one!”

Ronan joined some of the others and Adam stood watching asthey walked over to McCormack’s bar, carefree and untroubled. How he wished he could join them – he would rather be going anywhere else but home.

He took his bike from the shelter and headed for Rathmines. He pedalled slowly and allowed the cool evening air to fill his lungs, feeling his chest rise in fullness before falling again. He felt his thigh muscles work hard as he pedalled up the steep incline before turning left over Harold’s Cross Bridge. His cycle to and from work was the only time of day he had with his thoughts to himself. It was his time when he got to think about everything that had happened and try and make sense of it all. It was still so fresh. He only had to look at himself to see angry reminders criss-crossing his skin. Usually when he cycled he racked his head trying to remember the exact sequence of events but his brain would only allow him to go so far.

When he reached their house, he pushed open the wrought-iron gate and wheeled his bike up the path. He could see the lights were all off downstairs. He fumbled with his keys in the lock for a few moments before he was finally able to get into his house. Today’s post sat waiting for him on the mat inside the door. He stooped to pick it up. The envelopes told him it was nothing more interesting than bills, junk mail and a bank statement. He placed them unopened on the hall table. He shouted out to see if Emma was home but no voice answered his call. He hardly knew why he did that as he knew she wouldn’t answer anyway.He went into the kitchen and took a cool beer out of the fridge. He pulled off the metal top andgulped it back.

Emma’s head hadn’t been up to much for the rest of the day. She’d tried her best to think of some winning tag lines for the Sofa World campaign but she didn’t have much luck.

The office began to empty out after four with everyone heading off to various parts of the country for the weekend and by seven she was alone in the open-plan office. She preferred it that way; she could concentrate better without the constant drone of voices. She tried putting some words onto her notepad but nothing was coming. Eventually, after nine, she admitted defeat and knew that stupid taglines for springy sofas would be swimming around in her head all weekend long.

In keeping with their low-cost strategy, A1’s offices were located on Rosses Street, in a dingy part of Dublin City, which was long overdue rejuvenation. It was a notorious area for muggers, so she made her way hurriedly down towards the quays. She watched as hordes of teenagers, hen and stag parties, already bladdered, made their way towards the city’s current hot-spots, gearing themselves up for a heavy night of drinking.

She didn’t want to go home just yet so she decided to keep walking and headed down towards Dawson Street. The narrow paths were crowded with gangs of smokers standing outside so she turned onto a cobble-locked side-street where crowds were sitting along the outdoor terraces under café-bar awnings, protected from the cold evening air by patio heaters. By immersing herself amongst these people, she didn’t feel so alone.

She wandered aimlessly for awhile until she felt her stomach growl and she suddenly realised she was hungry. After skipping lunch, she had forgotten to eat anything for the rest of the day. She looked at her watch and it was nearly eleven o’clock so she hailed a taxi and headed home to Rathmines. She climbed into the back, stated her destination and sank into the leatherette upholstery. She sat listening to the constant buzzing and conversation over and back on the radio between the base station and the different drivers. The driver made half-hearted chit-chat with her – well, he talked and she made occasional sounds of agreement, which seemed to be enough for him to keep rambling on. By the time they turned onto Rathmines Road, she could feel her stomach begin twisting into its familiar knot and, as the car pulled up outside her home, Emma felt her heart lurch. She took her time to locate her money in her wallet before paying him and slamming the door shut.

At least the lights were off.

With trepidation and slow steps she walked up the driveway to her home. No matter how hard she tried and how successfully she carried it off at work, once she was on her own doorstep, she couldn’t push the reality of her life out of her head anymore.

Interview with Caroline Finnerty

1. Where did the idea for The Last Goodbye come from?

The idea came from a story a friend told me one day about a woman she knew that was confronted with the same dilemma facing Eva. The lady was pregnant and learned she had an aggressive form of cancer. She refused to take the treatment offered and unfortunately neither she nor her baby survived. This story really affected me when I heard it – it got me thinking about how a person can be in one way be so selfless for their unborn baby that they put their own health second but it also left me wondering if she had taken treatment, would she and her unborn child both have lived?

Around the same time I read about Sheila Hodgers, the County Louth woman who was refused cancer treatment during her pregnancy in 1982 because her practitioners claimed it would harm the foetus. She was left without treatment or even pain relief until she delivered her baby two months premature in March 1983. Sadly her baby didn’t survive and she died two days later.

Although different to the storyline in The Last Goodbye because the character Eva was not denied treatment, in fact she was encouraged to take it, I wanted to explore the idea of a pregnant woman being a vehicle for her unborn baby, which essentially Eva is, although it is by her own choice.

2. How did you research the storyline?

The main difficulty I had was that Eva’s story is set in 1992 and most information on the internet was relevant to the present day so I had to ensure that the storyline reflected treatments available at that time. Therefore I read medical journals both primary literature and reviews that were published in the early 1990’s so that my research was as accurate as possible. I have a Masters degree in Biology so I would have a general understanding of medical terminology, which definitely helped.

When I had a basic level of research carried out, I devised a medical questionnaire and I contacted Dr. Grainne Flannelly of the National Maternity Hospital in Holles Street who very kindly answered my questions. I hope I have reflected medical treatments as accurately as possible but any errors or deviations from correct practice are my fault.

I think it’s important to point out that recent studies have shown chemotherapy to be safe for the foetus after the first trimester, which is welcome development for any woman who is faced with this awful dilemma.

3. Do you have a favourite character?

I have to say I have a soft spot for Kate, the main protagonist. She has spent her life running away from her problems and I’m sure the reader will find her quite frustrating as a person to begin with. I know I personally just wanted to shake her at times but by the end of the book I think she has grown and developed as person.

4. What scene was the most difficult/interesting to write?

I found Eva’s last scene, where the she is dying in hospital and she finally opens up about her fears of dying with Sister Rita emotional to write. For the first time, the reader gets to see Eva without her usual brave face and jokey manner. Also later that night when Noel is at her bedside and she is reminiscing back on a day that the family had at the beach in happier times, being a mother myself, I found that scene hard to write.

5. The character of Eva tends to bury her head in the sand rather than face up to her problems, was that an intentional character trait?

It was intentional. I think Eva is an eternal optimist, she has an ‘ah sure it will all be grand’ mentality and doesn’t like to dwell too long on her problems. I think she really believed that it would all be okay, she didn’t see her decision as heroic or as a form of self-sacrifice. She believed that once she delivered her baby, then she would take her treatment and get better too and that is why she made the decision that she did.

I’m sure the reader will notice that Kate seems to have inherited her mother’s inability to face up to her problems, which is why she spent so many years of her life unable to confront her past. I deliberately wanted them both to have this trait to help to show their similar personalities.

6. Your first novel In a Moment, and The Last Goodbye both have a ‘what would you do?’ moral dilemma at their heart, why is that?

I think there are lots of situations in life where there are no easy answers. As a fiction writer I have the benefit of being able to explore both sides of a dilemma. Sometimes when I am writing, I ask myself ‘what would I do in that situation?’ but then when I think about it from the other point of view, I can often empathise with that viewpoint too.

In Eva’s case if she had taken the treatment offered to her she may have survived but would Aoife? In my first novel, In a Moment, the character Jean struggles with a decision, which goes against all her maternal loyalties to her son Paul.

I suppose there are situations in life for which there are no easy answers, we just have to make the best decision we can at that time. Sometimes we get it right, sometimes we get it wrong.

7. Have you always wanted to be a writer?

I was always bookish as a child and have memories of ripping pages out of copybooks, drawing pictures on one side of the paper and writing stories on the other. Then when I was finished I would staple them all together into a book. In school I loved nothing more than mulling over an essay topic that the teacher gave us for homework or writing arguments for debates. I’ve always found it easier to say something on paper than express it verbally so I suppose my love of writing has always been there but I just didn’t recognise it in myself. I always thought writing books was something that ‘other people’ did. It wasn’t until my mid twenties that it occurred to me that I too could write a book so I decided to give it a go. After a few false starts, I had the idea for In a Moment, after myfirst child was born and I knew I had to write it.

8. Tell us a bit about your writing process – do you like to plot much before starting a novel or do you prefer to dive straight in?

I fall into the latter camp. I have tried plotting my novels chapter by chapter in the past – I think it would be much easier to sit down at the laptop every day if I knew what I had to write about for that day, but it just doesn’t work for me. I find I only really get to know my characters when I start writing them, that’s when they take me off and teach me things that I never knew about them.

When I have an idea for a story I will let it sift around in my head for a while and flesh out the characters a bit before I will start writing. I usually start with a rough outline of the themes of the novel, the general story and some key scenes. Sometimes I will know the ending but not always. It’s a bit of a scarier way to do things because it’s like setting off on a journey with a map but it means I get to take the scenic route and see new things and visit different places along the way.

9. Who are your favourite authors and why?

As a teenager I would devour Deirdre Purcell and Maeve Binchy novels. I also love Marian Keyes and Ciara Geraghty who are both fantastically talented Irish authors. I also enjoy reading JoJo Moyes, Maggie O’Farrell for emotional sagas and David Nicholl for humour.

10. Tell us a bit about your next book – have you started writing it yet?

I am nearly halfway through it. The main protagonist, Conor Fahy has just lost the love of his life, his long term partner Leni who died tragically when she was knocked off her bike a few months previously and Conor is struggling to cope with everyday life.

Jack White is eight years old. He likes Ben 10, Giant Jawbreaker sweets and reading books. He likes his Dad - when he doesn’t shout. He doesn’t like the bad monsters that are eating up his mammy inside her tummy.

It is the story which explores the unlikely friendship between a boy and a man who come into each other’s lives when they both are in need of a friend.