Chapter 21 #4
In the end Ally left with a full bag of equipment: a net to separate the parents from the babies once they were born, baby fish food, etc.
She spent the rest of the afternoon planting slimy plants, then turned down the lights, which the girl had told her could bring on the event. Oh well, at least now she could let nature take its course, and hope to God the babies didn’t all get eaten while she was at family dinner.
* * *
She pulled up to Mum and Dad’s feeling like she’d little to lose. According to Love Links, the truth was that nothing was as good or as bad as you expected. So, this evening would be fine, she was sure of it.
God, books could be such a load of shite!
No sooner had she been offered one of Dad’s turbocharged gin and tonics than she was hit by the first salvo.
‘Have you heard the news? Francis is engaged!’
Which immediately felt like a kick in the rear – and then she noticed that Mum was tearing up.
‘I always imagined that in the end it’d all come right and he’d end up part of the family,’ she sobbed, blowing her nose in the paper doily from the cheesy nibbles.
All Ally could do was stand there and take a large slug of gin, trying to ignore Dad’s ‘how could you upset your mother like that’ face.
Oh God, was that what Francis had been trying to text her?
That his sexy giggling with the Tadpole in The Owl’s Nest had been a hundred per cent sincere and they’d both found The One.
He must have been feeling sorry for her and wanted to break it to her himself, but in her clueless arrogance, she’d thought he was just out for the chance of another under-the-radar shag.
A tense ten minutes later, Maeve arrived with Luna, who was in the middle of a full-on tantrum.
‘I donnwanna poo on the potty. I wanna do it in the garden like Coco does,’ she wailed, flinging herself on the manky sheepskin rug.
‘Oh God, I swear she’s already sussed it . . . This is going to be a long pregnancy,’ said Maeve through gritted teeth. ‘OK, fam, just sharing with you: Rob is in Vancouver for the next ten days and I’m ten weeks pregnant. And don’t bring those cheesy Wotsits near me or I swear I’ll puke.’
‘That’s such a coincidence, my fish is pregnant.’ Ally heard the words before she could stop herself.
Normally, as the middle child, what she said at family gatherings passed virtually unnoticed, but wouldn’t you know it, this time, the conversation stopped dead.
‘What?’ said somebody. Mum looked heartbrokenly at her, before bursting into tears again.
Dad and Damo looked baffled, while Maeve just rolled her eyes.
Ally was now, officially, an object of pity with everyone – apart from Maeve, who normally looked unfazed by anything, but today seemed to be only just about holding it together.
‘I could babysit for you any time you need a rest, Maeve.’
It was humbling to see the look of relief on her sister’s face.
‘Seriously? I always think you’re so busy . . . Would you like that, Luna? Have Auntie Ally look after you?’
‘Auntie Ally, if you look after me could we bath my hamster in the bidet?’ enquired Luna, without meeting her mother’s eye.
‘I could even take her overnight . . .’ she heard herself recklessly offering. ‘If you let me know what she needs.’
Mum brightened up at this. Presumably, Ally was appearing less like some sort of dysfunctional child-woman and more like a normal single, childless thirty-something.
Wow, this was a bit out of her comfort zone, but still, she could watch a Disney movie, eat chicken goujons and go to sleep at nine as well as anyone.
‘Perfect.’ Mum smiled optimistically, heading for the kitchen. ‘You can be her special aunt.’ Which was further evidence that the family had officially given up on her.
She was soon alone in the sitting room with Dad, buried in his armchair, who seemed to find himself being left behind more and more these days.
Funny that – she’d always felt he’d never had much time for her, always gravitating towards the high achievers, but now he smiled over at her.
Maybe this was a chance to finally connect with him.
‘Dad, can I ask you something? Have you ever heard of a builder called Peter Fitzmaurice?’
He looked at her in faint surprise. ‘Where do I know that name from? Young fellow, tall? Bad business that, of course . . . I met the other chap too, he was still around at the time.’
Dad appeared to have dropped straight into mid-conversation.
‘Sorry, Dad, do you mean . . . you actually met Pete . . . and Tony?’ This was fascinating.
‘Ah, it was a good few years ago.’ Well, that explained the ‘young’ description. ‘At a Chamber of Commerce do . . . bloody boring the rest of it, couldn’t wait to get home. I was sitting beside them, actually. Why do you ask?’
OMG, Dad had had this information all along. Unbelievable.
‘Oh, no reason, I just met him through work,’ she said airily. ‘So, what did you make of them?’
‘Funny, when the scandal hit the papers back this summer, I was reminded of that time. We’d a good conversation all right.
We were talking about how the profit margins had collapsed and part of it was down to over-regulation.
I agreed with him on some of it, actually.
Nice lad, border counties. The other chap, Tony .
. . what’s his name . . . Donnelly, that’s it.
I remember thinking he was another shade of character altogether and that they were an unlikely pair. ’
‘Why was that, Dad?’
He thought for a minute. ‘Oh, he was very smooth, a great talker. He’s the sort of character that’d disarm you so you’d tell them all sorts of thing you didn’t mean to .
. . and sure, I’m not even in the same business, what could I give him?
But . . . I dunno, I felt kind of uneasy afterwards.
And that wouldn’t be my style, normally.
Not Peter Fitzmaurice, though, he was straight. No frills . . . I remember.’
Wow, that was a relief. Dad went on. ‘Let’s just say, I wasn’t totally astonished to hear Tony Donnelly had done the dirty.’
Thankfully, it didn’t occur to Dad to probe any further about how well his daughter knew Peter. The last thing Ally wanted was any curiosity or jokes from the family about him. The whole situation already felt wobbly and vulnerable at best.
Uplifted by this unexpected insight into Pete, Ally spent the rest of dinner helping out Mum, while Maeve sat listlessly beside Luna, who was acting out a drama with two cocktail sausages, one of which kept sighing while the other flew away.
Maeve was labouring through a spoonful of plain mashed potato and sparkling water.
‘At least now I only have to cook the same food for both of us,’ she huffed.
‘I really meant that about the babysitting,’ said Ally.
‘Appreciated, Ally, but the only way I could go anywhere in the evening these days is if I were loaded into a cannon and the fuse lit.’
‘Well, maybe I could just drop round to keep you company, if you like?’
‘You know, that’d be really nice. A mug of weak tea, boring conversation and I’ll kick you out after the evening news – how does that sound?’
Ally laughed. ‘Perfect.’ Why hadn’t she done this before?
She’d always thought that Maeve couldn’t possibly need her.
Her older sister was so together, so successful, so normal.
But that was her own projection – in truth, her sister was struggling on her own, in the throes of morning sickness, and needed help and support more than she ever had.
On the way home, in the car, Ally felt a warm glow inside.
The news about Francis should have been devastating, but in fact it didn’t feel so bad.
It was upsetting in the sense that he was moving forward and leaving her behind – OK, that was pretty bad – but somehow, she felt philosophical about it .
. . Her turn would come. And that definitely sat better in her gut than regret or resentment.
Plus, she’d had a better chat with Dad then she’d had for years.
And he’d actually met Pete and liked him, which was amazing.
So maybe Francis moving on had its upsides after all.
Just then she noticed a missed call from Rosemarie. Oh God, no, not more ecstatic descriptions of bonking positions you could do while one of you was wearing a massive plaster cast.
Oh well, let’s get it over with, she thought grumpily and called her back. Rosemarie must’ve dived on the phone, as she answered immediately.
‘Hiya, sorry I was short earlier. But you know yourself—’
‘’Course, how’s it going?’ There was no point in holding a grudge, she’d enough to worry about.
‘OK, first of all, I’m not going to be that sort of pathetic soppy eejit I despise . . .’
‘It’s OK to like him, Rosie, you deserve it.’
‘I do like him – is that awful?’
‘’Course not, so long as you don’t forget about me and stop being my friend?’
‘Erm, hardly! Do I look like I actually need to cut off my left arm? OK, next thing, I’m in shit.
I need your help. I completely forgot I was supposed to organise the Celtic Concrete Christmas party this year, because you used to always do it.
We were going to hire a karaoke machine and everything .
. . and now it’s too late and they’re all gone and it’s going to be a disaster. ’
‘Sounds like hell on a sleigh, no wonder you blocked it out. When is it?’
‘Thursday.’
‘Isn’t that . . . kind of late?’
‘Yeah, I know it’s ridiculously close to Christmas, but the only alternative apparently was to have it all done and dusted by 8 November and I couldn’t do that to the poor feckers.
My only hope now is that people will be on the last few days before Christmas and they’ll be losing the run of themselves altogether, and everything will be just a blur so they won’t notice how disorganised it is. ’
‘So, you’re thinking . . . basically just alcohol and a few balloons?’
‘That’s about it. Crystal’s doing the food so I’m privately encouraging everyone to eat beforehand.’
‘Very wise . . . How can I help?’ Ally was on a roll with the drive to support good causes. ‘Oh, but just to warn you . . . my fish is due babies.’
‘Really, how many?’
‘Hard to tell. Hundreds? Thousands, maybe.’
‘But it’s not like you’re going to need to be up bottle-feeding them? Or getting them all little Christmas stockings . . .’
‘Rosemarie, this is just a silly conversation. And don’t try telling me I’m their granny – I’m feeling ancient enough this evening as it is.’
‘Wasn’t going to . . .’
And the conversation continued in this vein the rest of the way home.
That night, she turned out the light in the tank and went to bed, worn out from offering to do good works. At least that was something she had control over.