‘What are you two whispering about?’ Majella and Sharon are supposed to be folding napkins for the sausage roll station at B-Gym-B’s grand opening.
‘Nothing.’ Majella says it too quickly and I look to Sharon.
‘I was just asking Majella if I’ll do those little balloons inside bigger balloons for the shower. Just so I’m doing something, like,’ Sharon trails off.
‘For the hundredth time, I’m grand to do the baby shower. Plus, it’s in three weeks. I have all that organised. I have the decorations ordered. I have the tiny sandwiches ordered. I’ll be asking everyone for baby pictures this week. I’ll be photoshopping the little heads onto male-stripper bodies.’ I actually have Hannah on the case for a lot of the decorations. I figure this can be a test case for the market going forward, and it would be good to familiarise ourselves with suppliers. Hannah is horrified by the very idea of baby showers and treated both Aubrey and I to a ten-minute rant about how getting married and having babies isn’t an achievement and the continued celebration of patriarchal and heteronormative structures is what’s wrong with the world. Aubrey was barely listening because her fiancé Jeremy is visiting in a couple of weeks, and she was spending her lunchtime planning the perfect Wild Atlantic Way road trip. She was almost fooled by the Ireland’s Ancient East marketing campaign, but I convinced her that the west coast would probably give her more bang for her buck. I couldn’t in good conscience have Jeremy in Kildare on his holidays.
I’ve taken the edge off Hannah’s protests somewhat by having her investigate what’s new and up-and-coming on the stripper/raunchy entertainment scene in Ireland. Maybe Majella’s ‘Babe Shower’ idea could catch on with more grown-up fun for all involved. Hannah hasn’t had any luck either in sourcing a stripper who will live up to Majella’s Magic Mike standards, so I’m thinking of throwing a little curveball and sourcing the perfect palaeontologist costume for the entertainer instead. Before Shayne Ward, any of Westlife, Pablo or Don, Majella’s first love was Dr Grant from Jurassic Park. I’d actually be surprised if Pablo hasn’t already dressed up as him behind closed doors. My first film crush was Aladdin, but I don’t think it would be culturally appropriate to get John into the trousers and little waistcoat, although he is wearing a little waistcoat this evening for the opening. I have a fierce weakness for men in waistcoats just on the cusp of being too small for them. Majella interrupts me as I’m gazing at him across the room, where he’s cleaning footprints off his brand-new mats.
‘I just don’t want anything to upset you or overwork you.’
‘Maj, you have to stop worrying about that. Can this be the last time we talk about it? I promise you, I’m so happy to do it and I’m dreaming up some surprises. And, sure, you’re all over the WhatsApp.’
It’s a blessing in one way having Majella in the group to police it, but at the same time the numbers have swelled even more, and we’re now at thirty-nine. Úna Hatton cornered Majella in Filan’s and said Niamh from Across the Road will be home visiting from New York that weekend, so Niamh has been added to the group, and Majella has already cut her off at the pass when she started inquiring about ethical balloons. Majella asked her if many ethical balloons fly past the window of the plane when she’s crossing the Atlantic Ocean in her Airbus. More teachers from Majella’s school are now coming, as well as Constance Swinford. Úna Hatton herself will be invited next.
‘Well, isn’t this the perfect little place?’ Speak of the devil: Úna Hatton calls in the door of B-Gym-B and deposits her coat across the handlebars of an air bike. She makes a beeline for John and presses a bottle of bubbly into his hands, which is sound of her, I suppose. I almost make an escape into the shower room just before she catches me, but she’s impossible to dodge.
‘Is your mother not here yet, Aisling? I was hoping to catch her before I have to fly off again. One of my poems has come first in the Knocknamanagh Literary Club’s writing competition and I’m receiving my prize at a ceremony this evening. Don is outside right now in the Prius.’ With that, her husband appears at the door, holding an envelope.
Úna shrieks. ‘The card! I forgot the card. It’s actually one of my own watercolours. I found a website that turns them into cards for you, so I’m sending out all my own work for all occasions. Niamh thinks she could get them into some stores in NYC.’
Niamh is an out-and-out dose, but I do forget sometimes that she has to humour Úna like the rest of us.
‘Mammy has a big group checking into the yurts, Úna, so she and Constance will be down later.’
Úna shakes her head. ‘Your mother works too hard for a woman of her age. I’m five years younger and have been able to devote myself to my arts and passions.’
I know for a fact that Mammy and Úna Hatton are exactly the same age because for Úna’s sixtieth Niamh sent an ethical balloon arrangement and it was left outside the front door for a whole day. Rumour has it Úna abused her position as the choir leader at her Protestant church and made them sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her three years in a row, claiming to be turning fifty-nine.
‘I think the eco farm is one of Mammy’s passions, in fairness,’ I say, somewhat bristly, as Úna’s husband intervenes to remind her they’re in a rush.
‘She won first runner-up in her poetry competition. Lovely composition about her flower beds.’
Úna grabs him by the arm and drags him to the door, calling over her shoulder, ‘It’s basically joint first. Congrats on your little gym, John. You’re a great boy. My Niamh –’
The door closes behind her before we hear what her Niamh might have to say or do to John, who looks stressed as he waves Úna off.
I go over and hug him around the waist. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Yeah, just wondering will people show up. Will enough people sign up. Úna kept calling it a “brave little venture”. I’ve all my savings put into it now.’
I hug him tighter. ‘Loads of people are going to show up. Sadhbh and Don are on the way and Elaine is with them. Majella has most of the baby-shower WhatsApp bullied into it. Sumira Singh is making three different kinds of high-protein samosas. And so many people have signed up already. I’ve had Dee Ruane on to me complaining that she can’t get into a spinning class.’
‘I’ve only five bikes, in fairness.’
‘Yeah, and you’ll get more. You’ll be brilliant.’ I go up on my tippytoes to meet his lips. ‘I’m very proud of you.’ His eyes go kind of glassy and I get a fright.
He blinks it away, though, and smiles at me before nodding at the door. ‘Here’s your mother. And Constance. And Mad Tom.’
****
Thirty minutes later, and there are so many people in the gym we’ve had to open the front and back doors to let the air flow through. Air-conditioning wasn’t a top priority in the budget, but to be fair, B-Gym-B isn’t supposed to hold the entire population of a small town. Constance Swinford is holding court by the sausage rolls, her regal grey curls bobbing up and down as she lectures Majella’s mother and father on the particulars of breeding Afghan hounds. Given that the only dog the Morans have ever had is Willy the Jack Russell, I don’t know what they’d be doing with houndbreeding knowledge, but Constance is, as ever, hard to ignore. She’s the only person I’ve ever known to wear a wax jacket in the height of summer.
Despite her early declaration of civil war, Mags from Zumba with Mags is now a complete convert to the gym. She’s in a corner with John discussing the music system and demonstrating some borderline lewd hip thrusts. Mad Tom’s cut-off T-shirt has caused quite the stir. He’s cut off not only the arms but also turned it into a crop top. He’s already one of the gym’s most devoted members and is obviously proud of his progress so far – if you squint you can make out at least one ab. His girlfriend, Rocky, showed up on a motorbike with a sidecar, and while I haven’t yet witnessed it myself, I believe Mad Tom is quite the willing passenger. They seem besotted with each other. She keeps touching his ab with one hand and eating sausage rolls with the other.
Sadhbh, Don and Elaine are outside while Elaine puffs away on her vape. I haven’t had time to talk to Sadhbh yet, but she and Don seem to be getting on okay. When I spoke to her on the phone the other night she said he’s eased off on the baby issue, so hopefully they’ll be able to move forward. Speaking of babies, Denise and Liam have brought their two with them to the opening, and the smaller one has been trying to climb up on anything within her reach. At one stage, John had to pry her tiny fingers off the weights rack and I felt my heart break a little bit.
Mammy and Dr Trevor are talking to Tessie Daly, and by the way Tessie’s arms are going I can tell it’s flower-box related. The Tidy Towns committee are at an impasse about replacing the half-barrels that have been holding daffodils and busy Lizzies for the past fifteen years. They’re due an upgrade but Tessie can be very resistant to change. She refused to take euros in the charity shop until 2005. Majella and Pablo are in a world of their own, him with his hand on her bump and is he …? Yes, he’s singing to her. He stops every few seconds and lets her smell his glass of white wine. Seán Óg is in John’s office, welcoming in anyone who wants to sign up for the free trial or take the plunge and go for the full year, and there’s a steady stream going into him. I’m just about to see if he needs anything when there’s a touch at my elbow. It’s Dr Trevor.
‘Aisling, could I grab you for a minute?’
We sit on the spare breeze blocks stacked outside the back door beside the bins and wooden pallets that once held Seán Óg’s protein powders, now displayed proudly beside the water fountain inside. Dr Trevor is smiling but looks nervous. He fiddles with the bottom of his wine glass.
I break the mild tension. ‘So how are things? Who’s dying?’
He looks a little shocked. ‘Well, I can’t be telling –’
‘Oh God, I know! I was only messing. And hopefully nobody’s dying.’
‘Nobody right this minute, anyway.’
We laugh awkwardly. Ever since my miscarriage, Dr Trevor has been so lovely and kind to me, but I haven’t really been on my own with him. Maybe he just wants to check in. I have an awful feeling this might be about Cara and Síomha, though. It’s like a huge elephant in the room anytime I see him and Mammy together.
‘So how have you been, Aisling? You’ve been feeling okay, I hope?’
Just checking in. Phew. ‘Yeah, I’m doing grand, actually. Time heals and all that.’
‘Good, good. It would be very normal to have all kinds of reactions and feelings – just know that.’
‘Oh, I do, yeah. I have the odd wobble but I’m mostly grand. My granny used to have a tea towel that said “What’s for you won’t pass you” on it, so I’ve been keeping that in my head a good bit.’
‘And John? How is he doing?’
‘Yeah, okay, I think. We both got a land and I think he was really shook, but we’ve been made even stronger, I think.’ I feel my cheeks go pink. ‘Is that really sappy?’
‘Not at all, not at all.’ He has a voice that wouldn’t be out of place on one of those mid-morning radio shows introducing Glen Campbell or Paul Brady songs. No real accent, but somehow posh and rural at the same time. Kind of Constance-lite. ‘I might get a bit “sappy” on you, actually, if you don’t mind?’ He drains the end of his wine and I wonder does he know people are lying to him in his GP’s surgery when he asks them how many units they drink a week. Sure, you’d drink your weekly allowance just doing your make-up before you go out.
He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by John stepping out the back door. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t know ye were out here.’
He goes to go back in but Dr Trevor stops him. ‘No, no, John, please join us. I’m sure you need a breather.’
John nods and sits down gratefully on some blocks, sipping from a glass of white wine.
‘I could actually do with talking to both of you.’ A tiny shiver runs down my spine as Dr Trevor speaks. ‘Has Marian said anything to you, Aisling, about Cara and Síomha?’
I freeze. I don’t want to throw Mammy under the bus, but I don’t want to miss an opportunity to point out how nasty they’ve been. ‘Em, she has been a bit worried about it, I think. Like, it’s been a bit awkward? She said you talked about what happened at Castlefarrow?’
He nods, and I’m so glad he’s acknowledging it. ‘We did, and I agree it’s not ideal. I spoke to the girls about their behaviour. I know Marian’s worried, and I’ve been doing my best to smooth things over. But I might need your help.’
I swear to God, if he asks me to take them to another Peigs gig.
John interjects. ‘Aisling’s tried her best with them, in fairness. The girls haven’t made it easy.’
‘I know they haven’t, and maybe that’s partly my fault. I’ve introduced them to a few new friends of mine over the years, I can’t deny that. And they’ve stood by me for the most part when things haven’t worked out. The thing is, peculiarly, that I think they realise that I’m really serious about your mother. And they’re afraid that means big changes.’
He’s looking at me for a reaction, so I just nod. When Daddy died and I had to finally grow up fully, I realised that parents have lives and loves and losses of their own. That they had lives before their children and want lives after them too. It suddenly dawns on me that Cara and Síomha are probably struggling to come to that same realisation, and I feel a pang of empathy.
‘I wonder would you give the girls another chance? Maybe get together with them? See if you can be friends? For your mother?’
I feel my jaw tighten. This feels a little bit like emotional blackmail, but at the same time if Dr Trevor isn’t going anywhere, then what choice do I have?
‘John, you and the boys are already good pals, I understand? Maybe we could build on that?’
John shoots me a look quickly and clears his throat. ‘Eh, yeah, I mean, whatever Aisling wants, but I get on great with the lads. Happy to help if I can.’
Dr Trevor smiles gratefully. ‘I appreciate it, John. And you too, Aisling.’
He stands up and raises his glass. ‘Time for a top-up. And maybe a gym membership.’
‘Hah, tell Seán Óg to give you the family rate.’ John chuckles awkwardly, before turning back to me and slapping his hand over his mouth. ‘Sorry,’ he muffles. ‘I don’t know why I said that.’
I bring him in for a hug in between my legs and he rests his chin on my head as I look down at my feet. I need to get my toenails done. Cara and Síomha wouldn’t be caught dead with chipped toenails. Then, a spark of inspiration. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I could invite Cara and Síomha to the baby shower. Maj wouldn’t mind. She’d invite the whole country if she could.’
John steps back. ‘That would be sound of you.’
‘And you could bring Matt and Denis on Pablo’s, what are you calling it?’
‘Dadchelor party. He got the idea from the DadsToBe hashtag on Instagram.’
John and a few of the lads are bringing Pablo out on the same day as Majella’s do. They were thinking go-karting or paintball and then some drinks, but Pablo has requested a shopping trip for ‘dad clothes’ followed by karaoke in Maguire’s. Nobody has been able to deduce what he means by ‘dad clothes’ but the boys are bringing him to Dublin nonetheless.
‘Yeah, no problem at all – we could meet them in town.’
‘Pablo won’t mind, will he?’
‘He’ll probably start crying at having more friends. He’s already in bits because he gets a new best friend when the baby is born.’
The silence hangs between us after John says that and I swallow a lump in my throat. He holds out his hand and I follow him back inside.
****
The gym’s music system is playing a Bell X1 album for a third time when I fill Sadhbh in about Dr Trevor’s chat. Don abandoned the idea of driving back to Dublin hours ago. Mammy said she has a yurt for them. Don and John are idly lifting weights with one hand and cans with the other. Me and Sadhbh are sitting against a pile of mats, and Elaine is on an exercise bike scrolling through pictures of the cat. I can’t believe Ruby stayed at home to keep it company. A cat, like! Mad Tom and Rocky are slow dancing near the front door. She offered us some magic mushrooms earlier, and while Sadhbh chewed down a handful I said no thanks. I have a fear of going off my nut and sawing off my foot or something. Sadhbh just laughed like a maniac for twenty minutes and then returned to normal. Knowing my luck, I’d be found on O’Connell Bridge in the nip.
‘It’s very generous to ask them to the shower. Will Maj behave?’
‘I asked her earlier, and she said it was totally fine to invite them, and she promises she won’t roast them or try to poison them, even though it will be difficult for her. She’s just happy to get two more presents.’
‘I wonder is Dr Trevor gearing up to propose or something?’ Sadhbh muses, giving me a fright.
‘No, hardly! That would be so weird. They’re only together a wet weekend.’
‘I know, but older people are better at knowing what they want. God, he’d be your stepdad. I have a stepdad but I don’t know him at all.’
Sadhbh is not close with her mother – or any of her family, really. She calls me and Elaine and Ruby and Don her ‘chosen family’, which I think is lovely, but I wonder is it lonely for her sometimes. She says it’s fewer people to worry about or feel obliged to, which is a good thing, I suppose.
‘Then they’d be your evil stepsisters. I spent an hour on their Instagrams in the car down. Obsessed. How do they get their hair so shiny? And the podcast! It does really well!’
‘I know. Majella confessed that she was addicted to it. She’s agreed to a self-imposed ban going forward as an act of solidarity.’
‘She’s so cute with the bump.’
‘I know.’ I don’t mean to leave a silence there but I do.
And then Sadhbh has to ask. ‘Are you sure you don’t m–?’
‘I’m sure. I’m so happy to be doing it for her.’
‘I know you are.’
‘And, like, I’m thrilled for Maj. So it’s not hard seeing her or whatever. I do think about the fact that we’d be kind of going through it together at the same rate, though. Like, doing milestones together. So that’s hard sometimes. But I really don’t think too much any more about what the baby might have been like or anything, which I’m glad about. That makes it way easier. Did you ever do that?’
‘Like, very briefly. But I was so sure about the abortion that I didn’t dwell on it either. It must be torturous to find yourself doing that.’
I look over to where Don and John are deep in conversation, the weights forgotten. ‘How are things with you and Don? Any more baby chat?’
‘Some. But I think I’ve finally gotten through to him that a mini Don and Sadhbh combo is not going to happen. I get more solid about not having kids with each day that passes. I just don’t have any yearning for it at all. Like, I don’t even understand the yearning. Is that weird?’
‘No? I don’t know? I’ve always had a bit of yearning, although I never really thought about it properly until I was pregnant. I was always just thinking, “Oh, it’s just what you do, you have children.” Now I’ve had to actually think about raising one.’
‘And?’
‘Yeah, I think I’d like it.’ My eyes tear up and Sadhbh grabs at my hand.
‘And you’ll be brilliant at it.’
****
Later in bed, I’m just drifting off when John says softly, ‘Aisling?’
His voice sounds strangely choked and I turn towards him quickly. ‘What’s wrong? Are you crying?’ I touch his face just under his eye and it’s wet. I grab him and hold him as tight as I can. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I said I’d tell you if I was struggling. I’m struggling.’
I gather him even tighter. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’re struggling. I’m so sorry.’
He laughs a bit, in spite of himself. ‘I feel stupid. I’m the one who should be comforting you.’
‘Don’t be silly – there’s two of us in it. What can I do to help?’
‘Maybe I should talk to someone. A counsellor, like, or something. I was talking to Don about it.’
Is there anything Don Shields isn’t good at? Music. Being sound. Being a ride. Looking after his mental health.
‘I think that’s a great idea.’
‘Yeah, Don was saying he’s been working through the idea of not having kids, which is kind of a loss in itself, in a way.’
‘Is the person Don is seeing good? Although it would probably be weird to go to the same therapist.’
‘Oh, Don isn’t going to anyone, I don’t think.’
‘I thought it was Don’s idea?’
‘No, it was mine. He said he might do it too, though.’
I take his head in my hands and kiss him all over his face where his tears were. Don who?
‘It can’t hurt anyway, can it?’ John says as we settle back down.
‘As long as you don’t start leaving crystals around the place like Pablo.’
‘Talk about a madman.’
I think I’m laughing as I fall asleep.