Despite the Angels (12 page)

“Oh, hello, Mr. Hyland.  I heard the good news about Mrs. Hyland.  That’s great.  Not that there was any real danger, once they got the right antibiotic. How is she?” The nurse fussed round the babies.

“She’s fine, I think, th
ank you.  But down in herself. She doesn’t want to see the babies. I’d thought I might bring one up to her to cheer her up. But she has her head under the sheet.”

“Sure that’s only a phase,” the nurse was professionally cheerful. “Most mothers get a bit down on the third or fourth
day; it’s called ‘baby blues’. Bound to be a bit worse when you’ve been ill. She’ll be grand in a day or two. Won’t she, my little darling? Won’t Mammy be all better soon?” She handed one of his daughters to David.

David brought t
he tiny face close to his own. I’m not so sure, my little girl, that your mum is going to be all that much better in a hurry. She nearly died. But we’ll manage, you and me and your sister. Somehow, we’ll manage. He breathed in and the soft, powdery smell relaxed him. He looked quickly round for a chair.

“Whoa there!” the nurse was beside him, taking his daughter out of hi
s arms. “You’re done in, will you go on home now and go to bed early. We’ll mind these lassies for you till their mam is on her feet. Have you work tomorrow?”

“What day is it?” 

“Friday” said the nurse, as she tucked the baby back into the little plastic crib.

“Already?  Oh dear.  Or rather, oh good, I’m o
nly going in in the afternoon. But I have to ring everyone with the news about Kathleen. Her Mum’s on her way.”

“Off with you then. See you tomorrow.”

David joined the New Year Sales crowds, queuin
g for the buses. There was a comfortable anonymity in a city bus queue, no need to keep up a pretence, or smile. His thoughts freewheeled back over the past year. Less than a year since we decided to get married. What a lot has happened. Kathleen so driven to have a baby. I wonder why.

“Because she knew deep down that it was her ticket Home,” said Jotin.  “Haliken told me that she wasn’t meant to survive this infection. That’s why I let you marry her. He was sure that this was so bad it would take her
Home. He didn’t do his research properly, he’s about thirty years too late for a bacterium to be guaranteed to kill her. He should have given her a clot on the lung. Or found a viral illness, they still haven’t a cure for those. So you and I are stuck with her for a while longer. Sorry.”

At least sh
e’s okay after that infection. I was really scared there, imagine having to bring up those babies on my own. It’s hard enough making ends meet now and Dad is stretched helping us. I wonder how I would have coped.

“Your mother would have looked after the babies and then when they got into secondary school, you would have found a really helpful student called Lucy to fetch them from school and mind them for you. She was meant to be their mother, after all, even though neither of them is your Moonsong. Just as well we didn’t go ahead and let Moonsong have one of those bodies. I don’t know exactly what stopped us, at the last minute. We’re not always wrong, you see. I’m so sorry this isn’t working out. Though it’s not actually my fault, blame Trynor and Haliken when you see them next. But we all get a learning experience now, not just those of you in bodies. We’re going to be doing overtime, once Lucy gets old enough. You can just have a nice family time now, once Kathleen gets over the shock of being here, instead of planning her next life.”

A nice family time, thought David. I’m a family man now. Oh, God, what a ridiculous thing to be, at my age. Dad was thirty four when I was born, I’m only two thirds that. And Mum was a nurse and knew how to look after babies. Kathleen doesn’t know much that’ll be useful. Maybe it’s all instinctive, and she’ll just know? He looked out of the bus windows, at the crowds going home, and realised all their mothers weren’t nurses, and they all seemed to be upright and walking despite that severe handicap. Even Kathleen herself: her mother was the doziest woman he’d ever met, but so kind and so good for Kathleen.

“I’d like to call one of the babies Clare,” David was sitting beside Kathleen’s bed, eating her grapes. Kathleen was lying half propped up, staring out the window. She turned listless eyes towards him.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just seem to want a daughter named Clare.”

“Again? But this isn’t her, neither of them are Moonsong, you can call her whatever you like. Be brave, live a little. Not that it matters.”

“Clare’s okay. Which one is she?” Kathleen swivelled her eyes to the two little cots by her bed. David got up and went around to look at the babies. They looked much the same, even though he had been told they were not identical. He pointed at the nearer baby.

“This one?”

“Okay,” Kathleen looked out the window again. “And what are you calling the other one?”

“You choose. Didn’t you have a long list of names ticked in that book?”

“None of them seem right anymore. None of this does. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t have babies, shouldn’t be trying to work out what to call them, shouldn’t have got sick, it’s just not fair!” Kathleen started to wail. David sat on the bed and stroked her arm and shrugged apologetically at the woman in the next bed, who had turned curious eyes his way. Kathleen shut her eyes and slid further down in the bed. David fiddled with the controls of the little radio he had brought in for Kathleen, hoping she would be soothed by listening to music. It sprang into life with an Irish jig. Kathleen mumbled. David leant forward to hear her.

“Turn that rubbish off. Is there nothing decent on the radio these days? I wish they hadn’t stopped Radio Caroline. Fascists.” She fell silent.

“Yea, I liked Caroline too. Pity about it. Though there’s a rumour it might get going again, off Holland.”

“Caroline.”

“Mmm.”

“There. I made up my mind about something. I thought I never would again. Good for me.” Kathleen shut her eyes again and gave a great sigh.

“What did you decide, Kay?”

“The baby’s name. Caroline. Clare and Caroline. Now go away, I’m exhausted.”

David stood up and leaned down over the babies. “Bye-bye Clare, Bye-bye Caroline. I love you. Love you too, Kay.” He kissed her.

“Maybe.”

“Oh heck,” said Kathleen, as she leant her arms on the bedroom windowsill and gazed out into the grey light of the February morning. “Would you look at that. Another dreary day to get through. It’ll rain again. It always does. It’s horrible here. What am I going to do with those babies?”   A tear formed slowly in one eye and threatened to spill over.

“OK. I’m off. Mind yourselves, girls,” said David, shrugging into his coat. He had his head into the bedroom and was grinning at the babies. They were head to toe in the cot, but both looking up at the mobile twisting above them in the draught, their newborn eyes still slightly crossed. “You too, Kay. Be good.”

“What else can I do, stuck here with two squalling brats?  It’s fine for you, you get out of this tiny dump and see people and things.  I just go on and on.  I want to get away. Somewhere bright. Anywhere. Just away.”

“It’s February. Nowhere would be bright, it’s the winter.”

“I know it’s the bloody winter. That’s the problem.” Kathleen sat on the bed and sighed, long and loud. “Just get me out of here before I go mad.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a wail, as she ran her fingers through her hair, again and again.

“OK.  Just leave your hair alone,” said David.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I
t’s your fault I feel like this and it’s my hair. I’ll do what I want.”

“No, it is not my fault. You wanted a baby. Your wretched sister had one, so you had to have one too. Amazing her name isn’t Jones.”

“I didn’t ask for twins,” Kathleen wailed again and threw herself backwards onto the bed, drumming her heels against it.

David watched her and wondered what he could do to help. Was she right to be angry, was it really his fault? Probably Kathleen was right and a week in the sun would help. He sat down beside her and reached out to stroke her hair, such beautiful hair when it wasn’t sticking out like this.

“Leave me alone, you bastard.” Kathleen sat up with a jerk and glared at David. “That’s how you got me into this situation!”

David said nothing. Kathleen was too fond of the ‘all men are raving sex-maniacs’ argument, they had been down that road many times. But when she wanted a baby there were plenty of bedroom eyes and hands, he thought ruefully.  And now the twins have spoiled my chances for a second go of being wanted in bed. Two babies for the fun of one. Great bargain.

He stood up and looked down at Kathleen. She had her eyes closed and her head turned away. She fidgeted.

“See you later, then. Bye.” David went out to the front door. He could hear Kathleen, sighing and moaning softly in the bedroom. He went back, and hesitated in the doorway, looking down at her, wondering what he could say that would help.

“Nothing. She’s not listening, not even to Haliken. Out, go on, leave. Or you’ll be late for your lecture.”

David looked at his watch and ran from the room. Kathleen followed him out into the sitting room and stood watching their front door as it closed behind him. Her hands twisted together, then ran through her hair, twisting and pulling.

“Get him to fix up a break, Jotin,” said Haliken. “She’s not meant to be here. Maybe if she got away for a couple of days she might remember that there is more to it than just this. I’ll try and work on her patience.”

“Good luck! Doesn’t look like great material to work with.”

“No, she hasn’t signed up for patience training yet. She’s not really ready. But we can always have a go.”

“Haliken!” Clare’s guide was in the doorway, “my little one is crying. Give her Mum a nudge, would you? Oh, hi, Jo. You not off to College yet?”

“I think he can manage the bus without his hand held.”  Jotin paused for a moment. “I hope.” And he was gone.

Haliken turned and put his arms around Kathleen. “Come on, Kathleen. Listen. Little Clare is crying. Go to her. Go on, before she gets more upset. Come on, my love, you have to do this now. Come on, all will be well. All will be well.”

Oh bloody hell, thought Kathleen. She could hear the wail from the bedroom. She stood still for a moment. The wail was joined by another more tentative cry, which grew as she listened, becoming demanding. Bloody, bloody hell. She turned reluctantly away from the door, that elusive symbol of freedom, to go and investigate.

David’s mind whirled as he stood at the bus stop. He did not notice the grey weather, the heavy mist obscuring the approaching bus, or the grumbling people jostling to be first in the queue. All he heard was the voice in his head saying ‘There must be something I can do. She’s so unhappy since the girls were born, I suppose it is sort of my fault. Our fault, anyway and Kathleen isn’t in any fit state to sort herself out. But where can I get the money from for a break in the sun? Where could we go? London would be just as cold.’  He didn’t hear the voice outside his head saying

“It’s going to be really bright and sunny in Wexford next weekend. Get the train. Book a bed and breakfast for two nights. That’ll cheer her up. Wexford… Wexford… Wexford…  Won’t be too dear. The landladies in those B&Bs aren’t too busy this time of year, they’ll mind Kathleen for you. It could be just what you need, a home from home.”

“Rome!” David looked round, not realising it was he who had spoken. The bus squealed to a stop beside him and he shuffled forward with the crowd. As he got on the bus and settled uncomfortably on the back seat between two large ladies armed with shopping bags made entirely of corners, he thought again: ‘Rome?’  Maybe Rome would be nice. It certainly ought to be warmer than here. How much would it cost to fly to Rome? It would show Kathleen I’m trying, he thought. She can’t hold this all against me forever.

“Yes she can. Sometimes they do. Don’t spend all the money you haven’t got on a trip like that. It’s over too soon and she’ll want another.  Come on David, just go to somewhere in Ireland. You can afford it, if you’re careful. Then you can go again when she has another fuss.”

“She does fuss so well. I’ll go and ask about flights.  Then she can decide, that should make her feel better”

“Bad move David, bad move.”

But David had settled in his mind and now he settled back on the seat, as best he could without being injured, and allowed his mind to wander back to his little nursery. He smiled.

David straightened up from peering under the grill at the sausages and turned the heat down under the potatoes. He put his head out of the little kitchen.

“Do you want anything else done, or is it just sausage and mash?” he said.

“That’s all there is,” said Kathleen. She was feeding Caroline, whose little fists moved in the air and then stilled as she gave her attention to the serious business of sucking. Clare was lying in the pram, full of milk but not ready yet to sleep.  “I’ve been so busy feeding these two and cleaning them, to think of anything else. You’re lucky to get anything, stop complaining.”