Chapter 14
The theatre festival over, rehearsals for A Christmas Carol moved to Halfpenny Lane the next day. Even though the space was smaller, it felt good to be home in their little theatre.
‘How did it go yesterday?’ Mimi asked Sive as she joined her at a table in The Halfpenny Place during their lunch break. She unloaded coffee and two wedges of spanakopita from a tray.
‘Great. The movie was really good.’
‘And it was okay with Sam? Nothing happened?’ Mimi pulled out a chair and sat.
‘Well, he did try to kiss me,’ Sive admitted. ‘But I stopped him. He assumed it was too soon after my break-up with Ben, and I let him think that. So he’s backing off for now.’
Sive was glad that everything was relaxed and easy between them again and she didn’t have to avoid Sam.
She’d had fun with him yesterday after that awkwardness was out of the way.
Even though she’d wished they could have been on a date, and she’d longed to let the kissing happen, she loved spending time with him as a friend.
Sitting beside him in the dark of the cinema, eating popcorn and giggling together over the movie, she’d forgotten her troubles for a while.
‘What’s this?’ Mimi nodded to the notebook in front of Sive.
‘I’m making a list of all the jobs I could possibly do.
’ Unfortunately, Sive’s money worries had come slamming to the front of her brain again as soon as she woke up this morning.
In an effort to calm herself, she’d pulled up her CV and started brainstorming ways to parlay her special skills into real-life jobs.
Mimi leaned in to look at what Sive had written. ‘Barista.’ She read the first item.
‘I’ve got my certificate and I’ve done it lots of times on set. I was the barista in The Nook for a while, remember?’ The Nook was the café in the long-running soap Northsiders where Sive had had a semi-regular stint as a background artist.
‘Secretary,’ Mimi read. ‘Where’s that come from?’
‘I can touch type,’ Sive reminded her. ‘Sixty-five words a minute.’
‘But you’ve no experience. You’ve never worked in an office a day in your life. I think there’s probably more to being a secretary than typing.’
Sive shrugged. ‘I’ll just look on it as another role. I could totally play a secretary – shuffle papers around on a desk, staple things together, answer the phone.’ She mimed all these activities as she spoke.
Mimi pursed her lips, clearly not convinced. ‘Fishmonger?’ she shrieked, pointing to another item on the list. ‘Really?’ She screwed up her face.
‘You know I did that fish filleting course. And I have real experience at that.’ She’d been delighted her filleting skills had paid off when she’d got a part as an extra in a costume drama, playing a stallholder in a nineteenth century London fish market.
‘I don’t think miming it is quite the same as doing it for real.’
‘I wasn’t just miming. We worked on real fish for that shoot.’
‘Mmm, I remember.’ Mimi wrinkled her nose. Admittedly, the smell had clung, and Sive had come home reeking every day. ‘But I don’t think playing the part on a TV set counts as actual work experience.’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘What’s this all about anyway? I thought we’d agreed you were giving up this idea about getting a “proper” job. You’ve already got a job you’re ideally suited to and qualified for, and that you’re bloody good at.’
Sive sighed. ‘Right now I have. But I really think I need something more reliable if I’m going to be a parent. Acting is too unpredictable. I mean, looking for work all the time is literally part of the job.’
‘You’re not out of work much. And there’ll always be a part for you at Halfpenny Lane.’
‘But what about when I’m on maternity leave?’
‘You’ll have benefit.’
‘Or if my child is sick? Or needs to be picked up from school? I can’t afford childcare. I need something with more regular hours.’
‘And you think magician is more of a steady, nine-to-five job?’ Mimi pointed to another item on the list.
‘I could be Barbara Cadabra again.’ Sive had briefly earned a little extra money doing close-up magic in restaurants.
‘Oh, I loved Barbara Cadabra,’ Mimi grinned.
‘But I was just spit-balling. I know that’s not really a goer.’ She crossed it out.
‘You’re not freaking out about money again, are you?’
‘I can’t help it!’ Sive gripped her head in her hands.
‘Sive,’ Mimi said, sternly. ‘Look at me.’
Sive sat up straight and turned to her sister.
‘You know you’re not in this alone, right?’ Mimi put a hand on her arm. ‘There are three of us. We’ll figure all this out.’ She waved vaguely to the list. ‘Just promise me you’re not going to become a fishmonger.’
Sive sighed, feeling some of the tension leave her body. ‘Promise.’ She smiled. ‘Thank you. I really didn’t fancy being a fishmonger anyway.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s cold and smelly. Honestly, that one was bottom of my list.’
‘Well, you’re not going to be a… children’s party clown either.’ Mimi’s eyes bugged out as they landed on that item.
‘That one would be kind of fun,’ Sive said. ‘And I think I’d be good at it too. I can juggle and make balloon animals. And I know a few magic tricks, thanks to Babs Cadabs.’
‘And your pratfalls are excellent,’ Mimi said, patting her arm.
‘But you can save all that for your own kid. They’ll have the most fun mum in the business.
Besides, if you’re looking for job stability, I don’t think clown really fits the bill.
No offence to the clowning community.’ She took a sip of water.
‘So,’ she said firmly, ‘no more talk of fish mongering and office work, okay? Just stick to what you’re bloody brilliant at. ’
‘Okay.’
‘Have you made a doctor’s appointment yet?’
Sive nodded, her mouth full of spanakopita. ‘I’m going tomorrow,’ she said when she’d swallowed. ‘I’m not needed for rehearsal in the afternoon anyway.’
‘I’ll go over to yours for dinner, then, so I’ll get all the news hot off the presses.’
‘Well, it’s official!’ Sive told her sisters, sailing into the kitchen the following evening.
‘I’m pregnant!’ Aoife and Mimi were sitting at the table.
There was a pot of something that smelled delicious bubbling on the stove and the room exuded warmth and comfort.
The windows were fogged up, obscuring the dreary grey day outside.
She flopped down beside Aoife. ‘It’s nothing I didn’t know already, but it’s nice to have it confirmed – especially before I see Ben.’
‘You’re seeing Ben?’
Sive nodded. ‘He’s here at the weekend.’ She’d spent some time trawling his social media over the last couple of days to find out if he was coming to Dublin anytime soon and had discovered that he’d be back at the weekend for his cousin Harry’s stag do.
She’d messaged him while she was in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery.
She’d just typed a quick text saying there was something she needed to talk to him about and asking if she could see him whenever he was home next – not admitting that she already knew because she’d been stalking him online – and hit send before she lost her nerve.
Then she’d spent the rest of the wait staring at her phone and dreading his reply, her heart pounding whenever there was a message alert.
He’d taken an agonisingly long time to answer, even though she knew he’d seen her message almost immediately thanks to the two blue ticks – the curse of modern technology.
Then he’d started replying, but obviously thought better of it, the three dots and the message ‘Ben is typing’ disappearing and reappearing several times.
She’d started to worry that he wouldn’t admit he’d be home this weekend and count on her not finding out.
She was relieved when the doctor called her name, and she shoved her phone into her bag as she followed him into the examination room.
It wasn’t until she was back out on the street that she looked at it again and saw that there was a message from Ben.
She had to steel herself to open it. When she did it was short and to the point:
I’ll be home at the weekend for Harry’s stag. Call over anytime before 12.00 on Saturday.
There was no indication of how he felt about seeing her – though his delayed reply spoke volumes. He obviously wasn’t thrilled at the prospect.
‘I’m calling over to his house on Saturday morning,’ she told her sisters now.
Aoife gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘Yeah, I’m dreading it. But I also want to get it over with and know where I stand.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t think he’s exactly looking forward to it either. It took him ages to reply to my message – as if he was trying to think up an excuse not to see me.’
‘Guilty conscience,’ Mimi said with a sniff.
‘I even thought he might lie about being home.’
‘He could hardly risk it when you live right across the road.’
It wasn’t a consoling thought that Ben hadn’t lied to avoid seeing her only because he was afraid of getting caught out.
‘Well, let’s eat,’ Mimi said, getting up from the table. ‘I for one am starving.’
‘Me too,’ Sive said. ‘It smells great – and I need to start eating for two.’
‘We made extra specially,’ Aoife said with a smile.
‘Just put the Ben thing out of your mind for now,’ Mimi said as they set the table for dinner.
That was easier said than done. Sive knew she was going to be throwing a hand grenade into his life and she had no idea how he’d feel about it.
She felt she should know – they’d been together so many years, surely she should be able to anticipate his reaction.
But every time she tried to imagine it, she came up blank.
He seemed so distant to her now, sometimes she felt she hardly knew him at all.
Nevertheless, she tried to push it from her thoughts as they ate dinner.
‘There’s something else I’ve been wanting to talk to the two of you about,’ she said, winding tagliatelle onto her fork.
‘Okay.’
Aoife and Mimi looked at her expectantly.
‘It’s about this house.’ She hesitated and Mimi nodded for her to go on, a small frown between her brows. ‘You live with Rocco now, and you’ll be moving in with Jonathan once he gets his house back,’ she said, nodding to her sisters in turn. ‘So I was wondering … what we should do about the house?’
‘Do?’ Aoife frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I suppose we need to sell it.’
Mimi reared back in surprise, eyebrows raised, and Aoife frowned at her.
‘You don’t want to live here anymore?’ Mimi asked.
‘It’s not that. I love living here. But it’s not fair to you two. The house belongs to all of us, so I can’t go on living here on my own, rent-free.’ This had been preying on her mind since they’d gone up to the attic.
‘Why not?’ Mimi said. ‘I’ll be living rent-free in Rocco’s house.’
‘That’s different. You’re getting married, so it’ll be your house too.’
‘Jonathan doesn’t have a mortgage on his house, and I’m sure he won’t charge me rent.’
‘But that’s not the point. Mum and Dad left this house to the three of us. It was fine when we were all living here together, but now that we won’t be, you’re entitled to your share of it. And the only way you can get that is if we sell it.’
‘We don’t want our share, do we?’ Mimi looked to Aoife, who shook her head.
‘You’re having a baby,’ Aoife said, as if Sive could have forgotten that fact for a second. ‘You need the house, we don’t. Of course you should stay here.’
‘We’re not going to turn our niece or nephew out on the street.’
Aoife nodded. ‘That’s kind of the point of this house – it’s security for us. That’s why Mum and Dad left it to us.’
‘And Aoife and I need somewhere we can run to if our relationships go tits up,’ Mimi said dryly.
‘Exactly. So we’ll all have somewhere to live rent-free, no matter what happens. Hurrah!’
Sive smiled, still feeling a little guilty but enormously relieved.
‘I don’t know,’ Mimi said, shaking her head. ‘First you’re talking about becoming a fishmonger, and now you want to sell the house! I think this pregnancy is affecting your brain.’
‘What?’ Aoife spluttered, laughing. ‘What’s this about becoming a fishmonger?’
Mimi laughingly told Aoife about Sive’s list.
‘Anyway, everything’s okay with you? With the pregnancy?’ Aoife asked.
‘Yes. Everything’s fine.’
‘Do you have a due date?’ Mimi asked.
‘Roughly the ninth of May – give or take, obviously. But I’ll get a more accurate one when I go for a scan.’
‘I’ll have to factor that into my wedding plans.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘What do you think – before or after? Would you rather be a pregnant bridesmaid or a bridesmaid with a baby?’
‘Gosh, I don’t know. Bridesmaid with a baby maybe? It’s up to you, though. I’m not going to make your wedding all about me.’
‘Well, there’s plenty of time to decide about dates. So do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?’
‘No, I have to wait a bit to find that out.’
‘Have you thought about names yet?’ Mimi asked.
‘For the baby? No. It’s a bit soon for thinking about names.’
‘But we can’t keep calling it “the baby”. You should give it a nickname at least, just as a placeholder.’
‘Oh, good idea.’ Sive smiled. ‘Hmm, it’s about the size of a pea at the moment, or a bean. What about Chickpea?’
‘Or Bean?’
‘Is that a bit generic, though?’ Mimi said. ‘What about Mung? Or Fava?’
‘Ew, too redolent of Hannibal Lecter.’
‘I like Bean.’ Sive put a hand on her stomach. ‘Yeah, I think it feels like a Bean.’
‘Bean it is, then.’