The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

Chapter 41

FORTY-ONE

Ellie and I join MrsBrennan and MrsMorgan on the ward for a game of cards. MrsBrennan’s son Vincy and his wife, Rachel, have come to visit, and join the game. We’re about halfway through a second round when Vincy reaches into a paper bag next to the bedside locker and produces a bottle of prosecco.

‘That’s not allowed,’ MrsMorgan says quickly with a wagging finger.

‘Well, if you don’t want any,’ he says, hiding the bottle behind his back.

‘That’s not what I said!’

He chuckles. I should say something. I should back MrsMorgan up and reiterate that alcohol is strictly prohibited for patients. But it’s New Year’s Eve, and who knows if it will be MrsBrennan’s last.

‘I’d love a glass if there’s one on offer,’ I say, boldly.

Vincy has come prepared, with a screw-cap so there’s no faffing about with a corkscrew, and no loud pop. But it’s nonetheless exciting when he twists the lid off and some fizz spills over the top.

‘Hang on,’ I say, with a finger in the air. I dash to the water cooler on the corridor and fetch several plastic cups. A cheery grin lights up MrsBrennan’s whole face when I return with cups in hand.

Vincy pours a small splash of prosecco into each cup and I pass them round. I give MrsBrennan the fullest cup, and pass MrsMorgan an almost equally overflowing one.

‘Here’s to the new year,’ Vincy says, raising his cup.

‘To the new year,’ everyone echoes, and with all our cups in the air we tap them together. There’s no clink as the flimsy plastic connects, but it’s a still a joy.

‘You’re a good boy,’ MrsBrennan says, sipping from the clear plastic cup with her pinkie extended. ‘The best thing to ever happen to me, you are. And when I’m gone?—’

‘Stop it, Mam. Don’t talk like that,’ Vincy says, cutting his mother off. ‘You’ll be fine. You’ll see.’

‘The kid is right,’ MrsMorgan says, smiling at Vincy as if he is Ellie’s age and not a middle-aged man. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Not until you learn to stop cheating. Now, are we playing cards or what?’

A heated game of poker ensues, and, while none of use lose ourselves quite enough to forget where we are, the prosecco is delicious, the company is fun and it’s altogether a lovely New Year’s Eve indeed. We play for as long as MrsBrennan and MrsMorgan can keep their eyes open, but what feels all too soon the elderly patients are flagging and Vincy announces it’s time to go.

He kisses his mother on the cheek and promises to come back soon.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ he says, taking my hand and shaking it. ‘Mam talks about you all the time. You and your grandfather. The man who taught her to play poker.’

‘Oh, he’s not…’ I begin to explain my relationship with Malcolm and quickly realise I’m not sure I can. I could say he’s my friend. Which would certainly be true, but it doesn’t seem to fit as quite the right explanation. In the short time I’ve known him I’ve grown to care about him in a way I’m not sure I’ve experienced before. I never met my grandparents; both sets were gone before I was born. But caring for Malcolm these past weeks is how I imagine it must feel to have a grandfather. Someone to fall asleep on the couch with on Christmas day as an overplayed Disney classic hums in the background. Someone to cook dinner for, or fly a kite with or fear that they’ll catch cold in the snow without a hat. Someone to worry about. Someone who the thought of them being ill fills you with dread.

I clear my throat and start over. ‘I’ll tell Malcolm your mam says hello.’

‘And happy new year,’ Vincy adds.

I nod. ‘Happy new year.’

All the visitors seem to leave in one swarm, and soon the wards are churchlike-silent. Ellie has fallen asleep, curled into a small ball on the plastic chair near MrsBrennan’s bed. I scoop her into my arms, tuck her close to me and breathe her in.

‘Good night,’ I whisper, although MrsBrennan and MrsMorgan are sleeping as soundly as Ellie and don’t hear me.

In the storage room, I tuck Ellie into the makeshift bed on the floor and cover her with blankets. The prosecco is pressing on my bladder and I’ve got to pee. I wait until Ellie turns on her side and sucks her thumb, soundly asleep, before I leave the room and close the door behind me.

I hurry in the loo, and I’m washing my hands when I hear faint crying. I cock my head towards the door, struggling to make it out over the sound of the water running. The water stops and my heart drops as I hear it clearly. Ellie!

I race out of the bathroom and down the corridor, but I’m too late. Ellie is in the hall. Her eyes are red and her shoulders are heaving as she cries hysterically. But worse than my distressed little girl is the woman standing beside her, holding her hand. Elaine!

‘You leaved me,’ Ellie cries, her voice breaking after each word.

My heart is beating furiously and inside my head is loud as I hear the swish-wallop of my blood racing through my veins. I paste on a smile, and try to ignore how my insides shake as I walk towards them.

‘I was just in the bathroom,’ I tell Ellie, and it comes out wobbly and high-pitched. I reach out an open hand and add, ‘C’mon on now, time to go.’

‘Heading home, are you?’ Elaine asks, cocking her head towards the double doors at the end of the corridor that lead out to the main part of the hospital.

‘Mm-hmm.’ I can just about manage to push sound out.

‘Because Ellie tells me she woke up and you were gone.’

‘Oh, yes, she fell asleep while we were visiting MrsBrennan and MrsMorgan.’

‘Mammy drinked protecco, but I’m not allowed any,’ Ellie says, wriggling free from Elaine’s grasp so she can jam her hands on her hips.

‘Oh really?’ Elaine asks, intrigued. ‘And is this while you were sleeping in the closet?’

Ellie giggles. ‘Noooo, silly. I goed to bed after.’

‘I…I…’ I choke. I am choking on air. I swallow hard and try again. ‘I can explain.’

Elaine raises an eyebrow with a face that tells me she’d love to hear me try.

‘Sometimes, Ellie naps in the closet. If I have to work late, and crèche is closed. I know it’s not ideal.’

‘Naps?’ Elaine says.

‘Mm-hmm.’

‘For an hour or two,’ Elaine goes on.

‘Mm-hmm.’

‘Right,’ she says, turning towards the storage room to open the door.

I grab Ellie by the hand and follow quickly.

‘Ouch,’ Ellie protests, but I don’t let go. ‘Mammy, you’re squishing me.’

I loosen my grip as the door swings open and Elaine takes in the view of blankets on the floor, Tesco bags of our stuff poking out there and there. Ellie’s colouring book and pencils on a shelf. Our toothbrushes in a plastic cup, and some clothes that I hand-washed in the bathroom sink earlier hanging to dry over the handle of the floor polisher.

Elaine’s hands cup her face and her shoulders round as she says, ‘Oh, Bea.’

I have no words as I stare inside the small, dimly lit space where it is obvious Ellie and I have been sleeping. Have been living. Tears trickle down my cheeks, but I am not crying. I am too panicked to cry.

‘Oh, Bea,’ Elaine repeats. ‘How long?’

I let go of Ellie’s hand to drag my hands around my face. Lies spin through my head at lightning speed. It’s not what you think. I’m just storing some stuff there. We stay over to get ahead of traffic. I was bagging up clothes for charity. But anything I can think of sounds stupid and ridiculous and doesn’t hide the blatantly obvious.

‘How long?’ Elaine repeats, gently.

Tears are falling fast and heavy now. They fall off my chin and splash onto the collar of my top. ‘A couple of weeks or thereabouts.’

‘Jesus, Bea.’

‘Ellie’s dad left and I couldn’t afford rent on my own.’

‘Had you nowhere else?’

I shake my head.

‘A friend.’

‘We tried, but her boyfriend…’ I trail off.

‘Right, yes, okay. And Ellie’s dad, does he know what’s happened? Where is he now?’

I rub my eyes and gather myself. ‘He’s back. We’re back together,’ I say, the words hurting as I push them out. I hate Declan for putting me and Ellie in this position. But I hate him even more, right now, for leaving me with no choice but to take him back. ‘Ellie and I are going home. He’s sorting the flat literally as we speak. Please don’t fire me.’

‘Christ, Bea. Your job is the least of your worries right now.’

‘Please,’ I beg.

‘Okay, okay,’ she says, quickly. ‘Calm down. I’m not going to fire you. Your job is safe. I just want to make sure you’re safe too. Is Daniel at the flat?’

‘Declan,’ I correct. ‘Um. Not exactly. Not yet. But he’s sorting it.’

‘Do you have somewhere to go tonight, Bea? You cannot stay here.’

‘I… I…’

Oh God, why can’t I speak. And I just peed but I feel as if I need the loo again. My whole body is struggling to function. Ellie is spinning on the spot, humming a Christmas song to herself, oblivious to our lives falling apart. Thank God.

‘Yes,’ I say, at last. ‘I’ll call him. I’ll call Declan. He’ll come get us.’

Elaine nods and I can tell she wonders, if it’s that simple, what we were ever doing in the closet in the first place. If only she knew.

My hands are trembling as I take my phone out of my pocket and I almost drop it a couple of times before I manage to press the call button. It rings for a while before an answer comes.

‘Hello?’

I jolt when a female voice answers and my instinct is to hang up, but Elaine is staring at me. I have to keep it together.

‘Hello,’ I reply. ‘Is this Declan’s phone?’

‘Yeah,’ she says, and I hear that she’s chewing gum.

‘Who’s this?’ I ask.

‘Eh, who are you?’ she says, becoming guarded.

‘I… eh… I’m Bea.’

‘Right. Hi, Bea. Declan is in the shower at the moment, do you want me to give him a message?’

‘The shower?’

‘Yes. Are you all right?’ she asks.

‘How do you know Declan?’ I ask.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You answered his phone, and you said he’s in the shower. I’m wondering how you know him; it seems?—’

‘I’m his girlfriend,’ she snaps, clearly irritated. ‘He doesn’t mind me answering his phone.’

I find that hard to believe, but that’s the least of my concerns right now. Declan has a girlfriend. A bloody girlfriend. Jesus. One of how many, I wonder. There could be tonnes of us.

‘But I’m his girlfriend,’ I say.

I almost feel guilty when I hear her gasp. She is clearly as naive as I once was. Falling under Declan’s spell.

‘Who did you say you are?’ she says, and it sounds like she swallows her gum.

I hang up.

Elaine is watching me with inquisitive eyes. ‘Is he coming?’

I regret the prosecco as acid works its way up the back of my throat and I feel as if I might be sick.

‘Just one more call,’ I say.

Elaine folds her arms. Ellie dances on the spot. I call Shayne. It rings out. Oh God! I try again. Nothing. On the third failed attempt Elaine loses patience.

‘Do you have somewhere to go?’ she asks.

For a moment I consider whether Ellie and I could sleep outside, maybe under a tree or in a doorway, but I shake the idea off as dangerous almost instantly. I wonder if we could check into a hotel, but I only have the budget for a night or two and what would we do then? Finally, when my gut clenches as if a fist is burrowing into it, I look Elaine in the eyes and shake my head.

She exhales sharply, and her face fills with sadness. ‘The shelters will almost definitely be full by now,’ she says, looking at her watch. ‘But I know someone at StClement’s. They owe me a few favours.’

My guts tighten more, until it makes me bend in the middle. ‘No, please. They’ll take Ellie. They’ll put her into care.’

‘Oh, Bea.’

‘Please,’ I beg. ‘Please. I can’t lose her. She’s all I have in the world.’

Elaine sighs. ‘They have family rooms. Not many, but some. No one is going to take Ellie away, okay?’

My heart races. I want to believe her, but I’m not sure I do. I decide that, if they try, I will call Declan again. Girlfriends or not, I will call him. I never want Ellie to feel as lonely as I once did. If she can’t be with me, then at least she has her father.

Ellie spins into the wall, bangs her head and begins to cry. I pick her up and hold her close, comforting her, and her small, warm body comforts me back.

Elaine lowers her mobile from her ear and says, ‘Right. They have space.’

Finally, I cry. Raspy heaves spill out of me and, even when it startles Ellie, I can’t stop.

‘It will be all right,’ Elaine tells me. ‘We’ll get you back on your feet.’ Then she turns her attention towards the storage room and adds. ‘Let’s get you packed up, eh?’