When I arrive at Kate’s house, just over two miles away from my mother’s home and her overbearing presence, I can’t help but feel some sort of relief.
Kate lives in an unassuming semi in the Belfast suburbs. There’s a small garden to the front and I can see a trampoline dominating most of the back garden.
Her house looks safe, secure. The kind of family home we’d all dreamed of when we were smaller. It won’t win the design awards ours did, but there’s an air of homeliness about it that I realise mine, for all its beauty, is lacking.
Her house feels like a proper home. There are pictures of her, her husband and Liam, along with extended family, all over the walls. A large and definitely very shaggy golden retriever, who I’ve been informed is called Molly, lies snoring under the kitchen table while Kate fusses about making tea. Everything about this home screams ‘happy family’, from the finger-paintings on the fridge to the holiday snaps Blu-Tacked to the cupboards, to the wedding portraits on the wall in the hall, hanging above three perfectly aligned pairs of wellies. Mummy Bear. Daddy Bear. And, of course, Baby Bear.
I find myself moving my hand to my wriggling tummy. Will my child know the security Liam does? Will she sit kicking her legs while drinking milk at a kitchen table and talking nineteen to the dozen to my friends?
‘I’m so glad you called over,’ Kate says, pulling me from my thoughts. ‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot.’
She sits down, placing a mug with ‘World’s Best Daddy’ on it in front of me, along with a pint of milk and a sugar bowl.
‘Sorry it’s not fancy china, but you take us as you find us here,’ she says.
‘Thanks for having me over. It’s great just to get out for a bit. As lovely as Mum is, it can feel a bit claustrophobic at times.’
‘I can imagine,’ Kate says, sitting down opposite me. ‘If I had to live with my mother again, I’m pretty sure one of us would be dead within the first twenty-four hours. She’s the best in the world, but wee doses work best for me.’
I laugh. A genuine laugh, and it feels good. I remember Kate’s mother well. Lovely but strict. Kate would cringe at her mother’s rules when we were younger, but there was always a genuine affection between the two of them.
‘Well, I know my mother’s heart’s in the right place, but she can be a bit overbearing. And well, she seems to be feeling the impact of everything that’s been going wrong with me. I thought she might need some space to herself, too.’
‘It must be a bit overwhelming for you both,’ Kate says.
‘Yeah. That’s an understatement – it’s a wonder the stress hasn’t given her a heart attack or put me into early labour. Although Mum would be in her element if I had this baby early. Delighted she gets to be born in Belfast and not in Derry.’
‘She does seem really excited about the baby,’ Kate says.
‘You’ve got no idea,’ I smile. ‘She’s taking her role as grandmother-to-be very seriously. Did I tell you, she’s made her spare room into a fully equipped nursery? Wipes warmer and all. We’ve not even started back at home. I’m surprised she didn’t offer you the guided tour when you came round.’
I laugh again, as does Kate, but there’s something hollow about it.
‘It’s a bit OTT, isn’t it?’ I ask, and if I’m honest, I hope Kate will tell me that no, it’s not over the top at all and it’s a lovely gesture.
She gives a half-smile. An awkward shrug. She looks down at her cup of tea.
‘You think it is, don’t you?’ I ask, but I’m not laughing any more. Nor is Kate smiling.
‘Biscuits!’ she says, jumping to her feet. ‘I forgot to get them out.’
She has her back to me and is rifling her cupboards even though her biscuits are in clear view.
‘Kate, it might be quite a while since we spent all our time together, but I still know when there’s something you’re not telling me,’ I say.
‘I don’t want to interfere,’ she says, turning back towards me, waving a packet of custard creams in my direction.
‘But if there’s something I should know …’
She looks at me, and then to Liam, who’s drawing a car with purple wheels and a bright orange roof.
‘Pet,’ she says to him, ‘why don’t you take your biscuits into the living room to eat? In case Molly wakes up and fancies a bite.’ She tickles his tummy and he laughs uproariously.
‘Can I watch Toy Story, Mammy?’ he asks.
‘Of course you can, my love,’ she says, following him into the living room, leaving me feeling uneasy.
I know Kate sees my mother regularly at the bakery. Has something been said? Does she know something I don’t?
When she returns, she walks to the fridge and unpins one of Liam’s pictures, handing it to me. It’s a Santa with an overproportioned tummy and a wide smile.
‘What’s this?’ I ask. ‘I mean, I guess it’s Santa and Liam drew it, but …’
‘Turn it over,’ she says.
I do, and see another drawing. A lady with short, curly brown hair, hands and feet like potatoes, with stick fingers and toes. A small figure, a baby, on her tummy.
I still don’t get it. Is it Mary and the baby Jesus? I raise an eyebrow and look at Kate.
‘Liam’s a very talented artist,’ I tell her, ‘but I don’t think I’m following you.’
‘Liam drew that picture when we visited you at your mum’s. I asked him about it. He told me that ‘Langela’ told him Santa was bringing her a baby to live in her house forever.’
The baby, my baby, kicks and my stomach tightens, then sinks.
‘Maybe … you know, kids get things mixed up.’
‘Maybe,’ Kate says. ‘I told him that it was you who was getting a baby, but he said your mum had said that it was a secret but the baby was definitely going to live with his or her granny.’
I start to feel uneasy.
‘Look, I don’t know if it’s anything more than a feeling. But when she came to the bakery and asked me to visit you, she said you might be staying with her for a ‘very long time’. And just, well, from the conversation we had when I was over, I sensed you didn’t really know what was happening and, well, it felt to me like you still hope to go back to Derry.’
‘Well, my job’s there … or was there,’ I blurt. ‘And Martin …’
She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. ‘Eli, I’m only telling you this because you’ve been a very good friend to me in the past. I don’t want to upset you, but you know, people talk around here. One of my customers was asking after you the other day, asked if you’d got sorted with a solicitor yet.’
My skin prickles. ‘What? I don’t need a solicitor. What did they mean?’
She takes a deep breath. ‘Eli, your mother was looking for recommendations for a good divorce lawyer.’
I shake my head. My mother? My mother has done this?
‘When?’ I ask her.
Divorce hasn’t even been mentioned. It’s not on my radar. Not yet, anyway. I don’t understand. I know my mother likes to be organised, but this is moving too quickly, even for her.
‘Well that’s the thing,’ Kate says. ‘I was talking to him yesterday, but he said it was a fortnight ago that your mother spoke to him. That he’d meant to get back to her sooner but had been really busy. I didn’t think there were any problems with you and Martin that long ago. Didn’t you tell me, that first note arrived last week?’
‘It did,’ I say. ‘Your customer must be mistaken.’ That’s the only logical explanation, after all.
‘Maybe,’ she says, but she doesn’t look convinced. ‘If I see him again, I’ll ask him if he remembers exactly when. Would that help?’
I nod but there’s a sinking feeling right in the pit of my stomach and I start to feel shaky. None of this makes sense.
‘And how are things with Martin?’ she asks. ‘Is it a matter of divorce lawyers at dawn?’
I shake my head. Then shrug. ‘I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway,’ I explain, telling her how things were left yesterday. That yes, things are very bad, but I wasn’t ready to make any big decisions. Not yet. There was so much to consider.
‘You’ve not had a chance to talk to him, just the two of you,’ she says. ‘Do you think that might be useful?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Do you want to call him while you’re here? Away from your mum’s listening ear.’
‘I lost my phone. I think I might have left it in Derry. I mean, I was sure I had it with me …’
‘You can use a landline, you know,’ Kate says softly.
‘I’m not sure my mother would approve,’ I say without really thinking, until Kate tilts her head to one side and gives me a sympathetic look.
‘Eli, I’ve no doubt that your mum loves you and that her intentions are from a good place, but I’m not sure she should stand in the way of you trying to sort out your marriage, especially if you still want to sort out your marriage, and I sense you do.’
I can’t speak. I’m trying to process everything. Her forever baby. The divorce lawyer. Her clinginess. How she’s been on edge all day, and last night, too. She’s been snapping and it’s not like her.
‘Call him,’ she says. ‘Call him from here. I’ll bring you the phone. I’ll go and watch Toy Story with Liam. I’m not saying your mother’s a bad person, Eli, but you need to decide what you want to do for your marriage and your baby and yourself.’