The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

Chapter 30

THIRTY

I wish I had something nicer to wear. My straight-leg blue jeans have a stain on the left thigh that I’ve tried to hand-scrub in the bathroom sink at work, but it’s stubborn and needs a spin cycle. I wear them regardless, and match them with a woolly cream jumper that I think is Cora’s and has got mixed in with my stuff. I’ve lost so much weight that everything is too big, sitting on me as if I am a coat hanger, but Ellie smiles at me as she sits on an upturned yellow mop bucket and says, ‘You’re the prettiest mammy in the world.’

I kiss her head and tell her she looks like a princess. She’s wearing pink leggings with ‘Frozen’ written down the side and a matching pink jumper with a glitter Elsa on the front. Her clothes fit her just fine, and I’m so grateful that the crèche provides her with three healthy meals a day. I only have to worry about feeding her at the weekend. Or this one-off McDonald’s.

We wrap up in our coats and hats and gloves, and sneak out of the storage room. We’ve become extremely good at getting in and out undetected. Ellie thinks it’s a fun game.

‘First one to make a sound loses,’ I remind her every time, and then we pretend to zip our lips with our fingers.

I peek into the hall, and when I’m sure no one is coming we make a dash for it.

‘I win, I win,’ she says, as soon as we reach the stairs and it’s safe to be seen.

‘Yes you do, chickpea. You’re sooooo good at this game. And remember, sometimes you fall asleep at Mammy’s work cos I’m so busy. We still live in our lovely apartment, don’t we?’

‘Busy Bea,’ Ellie chirps, echoing Malcolm.

‘Yes, yes. I’m a busy bee.’

My gut clenches every time I fill Ellie’s head with the same lie. But I cannot risk her telling anyone that we are living at the hospital now. And besides, it’s only temporary. Soon we’ll have a new flat and she can tell all her friends, and nosey Alannah, about that.

Outside, the snow is melting and the ground is slushy and wet. I left my wellies in the storage room, and I know Malcolm will have something to say about it. Just thinking about it makes me smile. Ellie holds my hand and skips contently by my side as we walk. She tells me about the Lego tower she built.

‘And I shared all my blocks.’

‘Good girl.’

‘And then, and then, and then…’

Ellie talks nonstop the whole way across the city. And we blend in effortlessly with the other people out and about braving the cold. We are just a mother and her happy child, strolling carefree. No one would ever look at us and think we have no home to go back to. And I am grateful for that, at least.

McDonald’s is crazy busy. Everyone has finally had their fill of turkey and ham and is desperate for the familiarity of fast food. Ellie and I lap the place a couple of times searching for Malcolm and Shayne. Thankfully, Malcolm’s chequered coat and colourful scarf stand out, and on our second trip upstairs I spot him and Shayne seated in the corner. Shayne raises his arm and waves and Ellie lets out a shriek of delight as she lets go of my clammy hand and races towards them.

‘Malco, Malco, Malco,’ she calls out, wrapping herself round the old man.

‘Careful, Ellie,’ I call back, worried she might hurt him.

But Malcolm belly-laughs and I know he’s fine. He sits her on his knee and asks her what she would like.

Ellie sings her order off the top of her head. I join them at the perfect-size-for-four table and my bum has barely touched the plastic bench seat when Shayne stands up and asks, ‘And you, Bea. What can I get you?’

‘Oh, no, honestly. Ellie and I can get our own.’ It comes out slightly offended, which it’s not, but I think subconsciously I want to stress how much I can do this. It’s just a McDonald’s , my mind plays on repeat.

‘It’s just a McDonald’s,’ Shayne says, and I’m frazzled for a second, as if he’s reading my thoughts. But his tone is completely different to mine. Careful and kind. ‘Let me get this, please. I’m the one who dragged you both here in this weather, after all.’

I take a measured breath and smile. I know this is what friends do. They buy each other a meal every so often. And under normal circumstances I’d happily accept the kind gesture and next time would be on me. But I can’t afford those kinds of indiscretions any more. What if his order is a large meal, or he wants a coffee I haven’t budgeted for? My mind is racing and I realise Shayne is staring, waiting for me to speak and make some sort of sense.

‘I’m not actually hungry,’ I say, and his face falls. ‘I grabbed something in the canteen earlier.’ My stomach rumbles right at that very moment and betrays me.

‘I’m hungry,’ Ellie says, and reminds Shayne about her chicken nugget Happy Meal request.

I know Ellie won’t finish her nuggets or chips. It was spaghetti Bolognese day in the crèche, her favourite; she can’t have much room left.

Shayne nods and goes to order.

‘You look hungry to me,’ Malcolm says as I take off my coat, the restaurant suddenly feeling stuffy. ‘You’re skin and bone.’

Thankfully I don’t have to change the subject – Ellie does it for me when she breaks into song. Something about a blackbird and a chicken, although I’m not sure she has the lyrics quite right.

Malcolm bounces her on his knee and when we get to the chorus for the fourth time he joins in. A group of teenagers at a table nearby turn and giggle. When Malcolm notices them, he sings a little louder.

Shayne returns with a tray full of food. Everyone takes theirs, then lastly he places a McFlurry and a coffee in front of me.

‘I hope you’re not too full for dessert,’ he says, a little unsure.

My insides fizz with excitement. Both because I’m famished and can’t wait to tuck into cold ice cream and warm coffee, and also because it’s kind and thoughtful and I’m not used to anyone thinking about me. Not even Declan before all of this.

I have to look away for a moment and repeat the silent mantra in my head, Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

There is more singing, although Shayne stops and blushes when he notices the teenagers pointing. There is conversation.

‘I won five quid,’ Malcolm says, proudly referring to the earlier game of poker.

Shayne rolls his eyes. ‘Grandad.’

Malcolm chuckles heartily. ‘I gave it back. That MrsMorgan is a terrible poker player. She should stick to the chess.’

Ellie falls asleep on my shoulder and Shayne offers to drive us home, but I make an excuse about Cora picking us up.

‘Maybe we could do this again before I leave?’ he asks as we walk down the stairs. Someone has spilled Coke on the bottom few steps. Without a word, Shayne links Malcolm and holds him close.

‘You’re still leaving?’ I say, my heart heavy with sudden sadness.

‘Have lots to sort out back home.’

My heart feels heavy hearing him refer to New York as home. I’ve only known him a short time, but he has become such a large part of my life. Of mine and Ellie’s lives. It’s hard to believe he doesn’t belong here.

‘Oh…I thought you could work remotely.’

‘I can.’ He runs his free hand through his already messy hair. ‘But my apartment and my ex…you know the way.’

‘I really do,’ I say, all too quickly.

‘So is that a yes? We can do this again soon?’

We reach the bottom step and Malcolm wriggles free from Shayne’s grip like a stubborn child. Shayne turns his attention to me. His huge blue eyes bore into me, pleadingly.

Tonight was wonderful. It was mundane, sticky, noisy, a little smelly and so, so normal. I wish it didn’t have to end. I wish he didn’t have to go. I push the sadness deep down.

‘Okay,’ I say, quickly, deciding that I can totally budget to buy him a coffee in exchange for another wonderful evening.

‘Okay,’ he says, and I think he might be almost as excited as me. ‘Can I give you my number? You know, so we can text and not have to meet on a park bench.’

‘I like the bench,’ I say, truthfully. ‘But yeah. Your number would be good.’