The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

Chapter 39

THIRTY-NINE

‘Are you fucking mad?’ Cora asks me when I call her to tell her about Declan.

‘He was a mess, Cora. You should have seen him. At one stage I thought he was going to cry.’ I lie, hoping she’ll believe that Declan is really broken without us. Maybe I can even convince myself.

She grunts, disapprovingly. ‘So, that’s it? You’re really taking him back.’

I hold the phone away for a moment so she doesn’t hear the deep, steadying breath I take before I say, ‘Yes! I am.’

‘Oh, Bea. There’s nothing I can say, is there?’

‘To make me change my mind?’ I ask. ‘No. Nothing.’

‘Just think about what he did. How much he hurt you. He lived a double life, for goodness’ sake. You can’t trust him. How can you still love him after all that? I’m sorry, Bea, I just can’t get my head around this.’

I know I can’t trust him. And I don’t want to love him. I’m certainly not in love with him any more. But we have a history. He was a huge part of my life, the biggest part, for a long time. I can’t just wave a magic wand and wipe away the memories.

‘He’s the father of my child,’ I say.

‘And he treated that child just as badly as he treated you. Oh, Bea, please. Please don’t let him back in. He doesn’t deserve you. Either of you.’

I wonder how this conversation would go if Cora could see me now. I’m sitting, cross-legged, on the storage room floor. My left leg has gone numb, and when I stretch it out pins and needles shoot all the way into my arse. I don’t flinch. I’m used to some part of my body going numb in the cramped space. It’s usually my legs, but sometimes I wake up with a dead arm or shoulder too. Of course, Cora doesn’t know any of that. She thinks I’m calling her from Ellie’s and my cosy room in our new lovely flatshare. I googled a picture of a generic box room online after our last call and sent it to her.

‘Oh, nice. Small, but nice,’ she replied, ever supportive.

Thankfully, it’s been easier to fob her off about visiting since I told her about Malcolm and Shayne. She’s so excited I’m spending my free time with them, she hasn’t mentioned my nonexistent new flat in days.

‘What about his other kids?’ she asks. ‘You know, the nearly grown-ups who you didn’t even know existed.’

There is so much anger in Cora’s tone. I know the majority of it is directed towards Declan. But I think there is a small part aimed at me too. She’s furious I’m being so stupid. She’s worried I’m forgiving a man who literally turned my life upside down just weeks ago. A man who lied to me, who betrayed me, who abandoned me. A man who let me fall head over heels in love with him, all the while knowing his heart was never mine to take. A bad man. A man I am about to give my life to once again because I have to.

I open my mouth to tell Cora I love him. I think they are the words she needs to hear to help her understand. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot push them out.

‘He’s Ellie’s dad,’ I find myself repeating, because it’s the only truth I can share in this whole, horrible mess. I don’t want to lie to my best friend. But I don’t want to tell her anything more, either.

‘Does Ellie know she has brothers?’ Cora continues.

‘I haven’t told her yet,’ I admit. ‘They live in London. I don’t know how this will all work.’

‘Jesus, Bea. Don’t you think you should find all this stuff out before you agree to move back in with the guy? Like now that you know about his kids, will they be in your life? And Ellie’s? And what about the ex-wife? That’s a whole other shitshow to contend with.’

My head is thumping as Cora goes on and on. Bashing Declan. I stop listening. My attention has turned to Ellie, who is coughing in her sleep. I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder and try to turn her on her side.

‘And another thing,’ I just about hear Cora say before vomit spews from Ellie’s mouth and she wakes, sweating and crying.

‘I gotta go,’ I say. ‘Ellie’s sick.’

I drop my phone onto the ground and pull Ellie close to me. She’s still half asleep, and crying fitfully as vomit sticks to her hair and clothes. I retch as the acidic smell is amplified in the tiny room with no window. I peel off Ellie’s jammies and wrap her in the blankets that have thankfully avoided the line of fire. Then I set about cleaning up, and sneaking Ellie into the bathroom for a wash. It’s monotonous and my eyes burn with tiredness. Ellie is sick a couple more times during the night and we repeat the process. When the morning finally rolls around, Ellie has stopped throwing up but she’s as green as the curtains on the day ward. If I send her to crèche like this, Alannah will call me within the first ten minutes and force me to keep her home for three days. I do the only thing I can think of and call Shayne.

‘Hello.’

‘Hi. It’s Bea. I’m so sorry to call so early. Did I wake you?’

‘No. No. It’s okay.’ I can hear from his groggy voice that I have most definitely woken him.

‘Oh God, sorry.’

‘Bea. Stop apologising,’ he says, waking more. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Ellie. She’s sick.’

‘Oh.’ He immediately sounds worried and I can hear that he’s sat up, probably in bed.

‘It’s okay. It’s okay,’ I hurry to reassure him. ‘It’s nothing serious. She puked a few times last night.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. Must have picked something up. Thing is, I can’t send her to crèche and?—’

‘You have work.’

I wince, realising that both times I have called him since he gave me his number have been to ask for a favour.

‘I do.’

‘Say no more,’ he says. ‘Grandad and I are going on a boat ride today.’

‘Oh, okay. No worries. Forget I asked. Enjoy the ride.’

‘No. Wait. It’s one of those drive around the city on a truck-boat things that drive into the Liffey when you’re done. And apparently, we all wear Viking hats and channel our inner Celt or something. I dunno. It was Grandad’s idea.’

‘Sounds great.’

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ I hear him smile. ‘So would Ellie be okay with that? She’s not afraid of the water or anything, is she?’

‘Oh no, I couldn’t impose. You’ve a whole day planned.’

‘A whole day that would be so much better with Ellie there. Unless, of course, you can blow off work and come too?’

My stomach flips. I would love nothing more than to spend the day driving around the city in a Viking boat truck thing like a tourist. But Elaine would hit the roof if I asked for time off with such short notice. And besides, I need the money.

‘I’d love to, but…’

He sighs. ‘It’s okay. I get it. Just thought I’d ask.’

I smile even though he can’t see me.

‘What time will I pick Ellie up? Will I swing by your place before work?’

‘No!’

‘Erm…’

‘I mean, I’m already on my way to work. Left early.’

He doesn’t say anything but I swear I can almost hear the cogs in his brain trying to make sense of why I would go to work early after being up all night with a sick child. I decide it’s best to brush over it.

‘Could you pick her up at the hospital? Closer to you anyway so hopefully less hassle?’

‘Who’s that?’ I hear Malcolm’s raspy voice in the background.

‘Bea,’ Shayne calls back. ‘Ellie is going to come with us today.’

‘Good. Good.’

‘How about I meet you in reception in thirty minutes?’ Shayne asks.

‘Perfect.’ My insides relax. ‘Thank you so much.’

Ellie manages to eat a banana and polish off some juice that I saved from last night’s supper on the wards. Her colour is much brighter now, too. And by the time we are walking downstairs to reception she is her perky self.

Shayne is waiting by the front desk. His eyes brighten as soon as he sees us. Malcolm is standing next to him too; he looks more hunched than usual, and a pang of concern punches me in the gut. He looks even more unwell than Ellie did earlier. Maybe a day boating isn’t such a good idea after all. I try to catch a word with Shayne but Elle is talking nonstop.

‘No hat,’ I cut in, at last, pointing to his head.

‘You’re wasting your breath,’ Shayne says, ‘we already had this argument before we left the house.’

‘Silly Malcolm,’ Ellie says. ‘Jack Frost will bite you and you’ll get sick.’

‘And you were sick last night, chickpea,’ I remind her. ‘So you must wear your hat today, okay?’

Ellie shakes her head. ‘No. Scratchy.’

‘I know, I know, but it keeps you warm and keeps Jack Frost away,’ I say, popping her woolly pink hat with its small bobble on her head.

She pulls it off immediately and throws it on the ground.

‘Ellie,’ I say sternly, as I fetch it and put it back on.

It comes off again and she stomps her foot. Malcolm stretches his arm out to Shayne and opens his hand. Shayne looks on, confused for a moment, before he says, ‘Oh. Getcha,’ and reaches into his pocket for a blue-and-green knitted hat that he passes to his grandfather.

‘It’s not as nice as yours,’ Malcolm tells Ellie. ‘It doesn’t have a bobble.’

‘Is it scratchy too?’ she asks, making a face.

‘It’s a little bit scratchy, but it’s warm.’

Malcolm pops the stripy hat on his head, and I can tell he’s instantly irritated and itchy. I try not to laugh. Ellie smiles brightly and puts her hat on her head too.

‘Attagirl,’ Malcolm says, taking her hand. ‘You ready?’

‘I ready.’

‘Thank you,’ I mouth to Malcolm.

He winks.

Shayne’s smiling as he turns to me and whispers, ‘It’s a miracle.’