Chapter 12
Amy opened the door, tears streaming from her face.
‘Oh, sweetie.’ I pulled her into a big hug, banging into her ever-increasing bump.
‘I’m sorry to have called. It’s just I was on top of everything and then Paul said he had to go into the office and I lost it.
He hadn’t even packed, and I ran around finding his bits.
He was like, I only need three pairs of boxers and a couple of T-shirts,’ she tutted.
‘And by the time he left, I felt so exhausted. I’m so pathetic. ’
I shuffled her inside so that she didn’t let out all the heat of her house.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s not pathetic at all. And I’m happy to help.’
‘But what about getting you to the airport?’
‘I’ve got my case,’ I said, wheeling it in behind me and closing the door.
‘But you were supposed to be going with Graham. It’s your first mini-break.’
Her eyes looked red and puffy and I wondered how long she’d been crying for.
‘It’s fine; he was meeting me at Heathrow anyway. Made no sense for him to come to mine first.’
‘And your mum?’
‘She’s getting the coach straight there too. It’s fine, I’ll get the train or a taxi with you, OK?’
‘OK.’ She took a deep breath.
‘It’s not good for you to get stressed. Come on then, where’s your case?’
‘In our room, but—’
‘Then that’s fine.’
She wiped at her tears and we headed upstairs. There was a mountain of clothes on the bed.
‘Where’s the case?’
‘Under there somewhere,’ she said, sitting down. ‘I couldn’t get it closed.’ Her head fell into her hands.
‘It’ll be alright.’ I painted a cheery smile on my face, not wanting to upset her anymore, despite the work that we had cut out for us.
‘Bloody hell,’ I muttered, poking and prodding at first, not sure where to start. I winced looking at how many jumpers, tops and trousers she’d packed. ‘I’m not sure you need quite this much.’
‘I’m growing at a rate of knots and nothing fits me. Plus, I don’t know what I’ll want to wear.’
‘We’re going for three days; I don’t think that the baby is going to grow that much. These are out,’ I said, picking out a pair of spindly heels. ‘Firstly, I think Dublin has cobbled streets and stilettos and cobbles do not mix. And secondly, we’re not going anywhere that dressy.’
I kept rooting and picked out fleecy pyjamas.
‘Right, now you’re taking the piss.’
‘But I like to be cosy.’
She hugged the furry top to her chest.
‘It’s no good, I’m going to have to take hold luggage,’ she whined.
‘You are not taking hold luggage.’ I held my hands up like I was trying to calm down a crowd. ‘We’re going for three days. Right, it’s got to be done.’
I tipped the case out on the bed. Amy gasped.
‘It’s fine, we’ve got at least an hour to do this.’
She tried to prop herself up against the pillows.
‘You know you get so much more in if you roll your clothes up.’
‘Oh, I know that.’ Amy was usually the most organised of all of us, and I was surprised that she hadn’t packed last week. ‘I just don’t know what’s happening to me. It’s like I’m in a constant fog, and I’m tired; why am I so tired?’
‘You’re growing a living creature in your belly.’
She wrinkled up her nose. ‘Still, I feel like I’ve been on a week-long bender. In fact, I don’t think I was this tired after Ayia Napa and I slept for a week when we got back.’
I shuddered at the memory of that holiday. Being twenty-one, our mantra at the time had been something like ‘go hard or go home’.
‘That feels like a lifetime ago.’
‘I know,’ she said, laughing. ‘Remember our dodgy sunburn?’
‘I swear I still see the strap marks when the sun comes out.’
‘Didn’t stop us going out that night though, did it?’
‘Looking back, we must have had really bad sunstroke.’
I held up a questionable dress that I’m pretty sure dated from that holiday.
‘In case we went clubbing.’
‘Um, well, we’re not going clubbing in two thousand and five, so I think this can stay here.’
She groaned. ‘I can’t think straight anymore.’
I made piles of clothes and looked in her drawers for a couple more staples. ‘I’ve got your back.’
Tears started to roll down her face.
‘Oh, Amy, we’re almost there; why are you crying?’
‘Because,’ she said, between sobs, ‘you’re being so nice. These bloody hormones.’
‘Only another four months to go. It sounds like you need this trip away.’
‘I do,’ she hiccupped.
‘We’ll take it nice and easy. I’m sure we could all do with a rest.’
‘Yes, a rest is exactly what I need. But I did manage to do us a bit of an itinerary.’
‘I would expect nothing less,’ I said, squeezing in some extra maternity leggings just in case.
My phone started to ring.
‘Hey, Mum.’ I cradled the phone under my ear and started to push the case down to zip it up.
‘Hey darling, just to let you know that I’m here.’
‘At the airport?’
‘Yes, are you here too?’
I looked at my watch, in a slight panic that we’d taken longer than I thought, but we still didn’t need to be there for another hour and a half.
‘I’m at Amy’s helping her pack. We’re leaving in a bit, so we’ll be there about eleven. Why did you get such an early bus?’
‘Because you said to meet at nine.’
‘No, I said, get the bus at nine. Our flight isn’t until one p.m.’
Mum tutted loudly. ‘Oh bloody hell. I’m sure you said ten. What an idiot. Oh well, I brought a good book with me; might give me a chance to read it.’
‘Be on the lookout for Graham. He’s always early too.’
‘OK, love, let me know when you’re here.’
‘Will do.’
I hung up and shook my head.
‘Your mum is at the airport already?’ asked Amy. She was pushing herself into a more upright position.
‘Yeah, she got the times wrong.’
‘Let’s go then.’
‘We’ll have to wait around.’
‘It’ll be fine. It takes me ages to get anywhere these days so maybe if we leave now we’ll arrive on time. I’m just glad your mum’s coming with us.’
‘I know. I can’t believe she agreed to it.’
It had taken a lot of convincing that none of us had any style to cramp, and that it would be pretty tame with Amy being pregnant. She’d let me buy the tickets as a Christmas present, and I hoped it would pave the way for getting her to let me pay for a New York trip in the future.
‘Let’s get this show on the road then.’
‘Are you sure that I don’t need this?’ Amy picked up her dressing gown.
‘Come on. Anything you don’t have you can buy there. I hear they have shops in Dublin, you know,’ I said, heading down the stairs. ‘All you need is your passport, wallet and phone.’
Amy froze in horror.
‘Shit, my wallet.’ She went back into her room and appeared back a few minutes later with it in her hand.
‘Do you want me to check your hand luggage?’
‘I can’t believe we’re here,’ squealed Amy, as we stepped off the airport bus into the centre of the city.
We were almost all together. Caz’s flight from Manchester had already arrived, but she was waiting for her new boyfriend Bertrand to fly from Paris, and Mags would be joining us tonight after a big appointment with an investor.
‘I can’t quite believe we made it either, or at least you did … ’ Amy had packed her old expired passport rather than her current one. Thank goodness I’d checked before we left.
‘Don’t remind me,’ she said, looking sheepish, ‘and thanks for not telling Paul. He’s terrified of what the baby brain is going to do to me when the baby is actually born.’
‘Your secret is safe with me.’
‘So, what’s up first on the plan then?’ asked Noah, climbing off the bus and joining us.
‘I’ve factored in a little more free time for me to have naps, but we’ll still be doing the important things. Like going to the Guinness factory. Seeing some Irish music.’
‘You do realise that you won’t be able to drink at the Guinness factory?’ Paul slipped his arm around her.
‘I’m sure I could have a sip or two. Didn’t they used to give women Guinness on maternity wards to boost their iron?’
‘Pretty sure that we shouldn’t be trying to go through this pregnancy on fifties medical advice,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you make me turn off that midwife programme that was set then as it was freaking you out?’
The two of them bickered in that sweet way they did, with little shoves and playful looks.
Graham pulled a map out of his hand luggage and started to study it.
‘Is it far to the hotel then? Do we need to get a taxi?’ asked Mum, looking around her, trying to take it all in.
‘I think it’s a short walk.’ Graham slipped the map into his pocket and reached down for Mum’s case. ‘I’ll take that.’
‘You will not.’ She pulled it back. ‘I’m not that old. But you can walk with me; I want to hear more about this beer you brew.’
Graham’s eyes lit up. ‘With pleasure.’
They headed off and Amy and Paul followed after.
I waited for Noah to slip his backpack on his shoulders.
Unlike the rest of us, he didn’t have a suitcase.
It was probably far more practical for the city streets, but it didn’t fit the image he now had.
He was wearing a long wool coat and dark khakis rather than the jeans that used to skim his bum, and a V-neck jumper.
He looked like he’d stepped out of a Gap commercial.
‘Can you believe how far those two have come?’ he said, pointing at Amy and Paul, who’d got over the bickering and were now swinging their hands as they walked.
‘I know, and it was all thanks to us.’ I liked to take credit, even though I’d done nothing to get them together other than convincing her to go to their party.
‘Yeah, I know. Although, I think they would have met anyway.’
‘With campus being so small?’
‘No, fate.’
I tutted. ‘Why does that not surprise me? Of course you would be a believer in fate.’
‘Come on, looking at those two, can’t you see it? I’m pretty sure they would have found their way to each other.’ We watched as Paul squeezed Amy in tight as they walked and planted a kiss on her head.
‘The trouble is, if you look hard enough you see coincidences and twists of fate wherever you look. It’s just an endless stream of decisions that lead us to a particular point.’