Ripples (4 page)

Sara had been very kind. She'd given Ciara her bed. She'd put her arms around her and told her that everything would be all right. Kathy and Mike had said so too.

Ciara desperately wanted to believe them. But now they were all asleep. She wished she could sleep. All she wanted to do was forget the awful thing that had happened.

Maybe it was a nightmare. She might wake up and discover that she had dreamt it all.

Ciara took a deep breath.

She gave herself a pinch.

It hurt.

She wasn't asleep having a dream. It had all happened. She had seen her dad and Brenda bonking on the sofa. It was horrible.

What would her mam say when she found out?

Ciara knew the answer to that.

Alison wouldn't care. She was out dancing in Tomangos. Maybe she was with another man. She always said if a chance came her way, she'd take it.

Why did they have to be like that? Why couldn't they be normal parents? Why couldn't they love each other and be happy? Like the Stuarts. Why did they have to ruin her life?

Ciara cried in the dark. Big sobs that nearly choked her. She was afraid she would wake Sara. But Sara slept on, snoring gently.

What was going to happen now?

Her dad would leave. She just knew that. He was always saying that he was leaving.

Ciara cried even harder. She loved her dad. Even if he was moody. She didn't want him to move out of the house. She always felt safe when he was there. She liked knowing that he was downstairs watching his sport while she was up in her room. She'd hear him cheering and yelling when his team scored a goal. That always made Ciara feel good. She knew then that her father was happy for a little while. She liked to see her father happy.

Maybe it was all her fault. If she'd been a boy all this might never have
happened. Men wanted sons, didn't they? Barry could have taken a son to football matches. He never took her to a football match. He never took her anywhere. Now he probably never would. He'd leave home and forget all about her.

Ciara sobbed her heart out, hoping against hope that Sara would wake up and talk to her. And tell her that everything would be all right.

Sara slept on.

One year later
…

Thank God he was staying with his fancy woman tonight.

Lillian McHugh gave a big sigh of relief as she plonked herself in front of the TV. She was having a cheese and tomato sandwich with a cup of coffee. She always liked to get the midday news and weather and then watch her daily TV show on RTÉ One.

Barry wasn't coming home for lunch. She could watch
Twelve to One
in peace without having to worry about
cooking him a meal. She smiled at her favourite presenters, Marty and Ciana, as they read out the line-up for the programme before the news. What a lovely couple. Nice, pleasant people.

She wouldn't mind cooking a meal for Marty Whelan. He's a lovely twinkle in his eye. He wasn't a bit like Barry with his scowls and bad humours.

What had she done to deserve this trial in her life? Lillian wondered angrily.

It was almost eight months since Barry had arrived on her doorstep. He'd muttered that there was a bit of trouble at home. Could he stay with her for a while, he'd asked.

Lillian had been dumbstruck. What could she say? She couldn't turn her own son away, even though he was the last person in the world that she wanted living with her.

It was a terrible thing to admit to. The truth was she didn't much like her son. Her only child.

He was so like his father.

Grumpy. Bad-tempered.

He'd moved in, bag and baggage. Up to the front bedroom.

The days turned into weeks. Then months. Slowly but surely her precious, hard-won freedom slipped away.

She washed and ironed his clothes. Made his bed. Cooked his meals for him. She couldn't even watch the programmes she liked on TV any more if there was sport on.

He had another girlfriend. He'd told her that at the start. He usually spent the weekends with her. Lillian looked forward so much to those weekends. They kept her sane.

But if Barry and the girlfriend had a
row, which they often did, he ended up staying with Lillian. She bitterly resented the situation. She just couldn't bring herself to ask him to leave. She'd never been good at standing up for herself. A lifetime married to Tom McHugh had seen to that. Now it was as if he'd come back to haunt her. Lillian woke up angry in the mornings. She went to bed angry at night.

The midday news came on.

Lillian heard the news reader announce that the first divorce in Ireland was going through the courts. A little flicker of hope glimmered. Maybe Barry would get a divorce and go and marry that Brenda one.

Lillian had never met her, nor did she ever wish to meet her. But if she took Barry off her hands, Lillian would be eternally grateful. She wondered could she pray that Barry would get
divorced and remarried. Hardly. It didn't seem right. Praying for your son to get divorced! The church would certainly frown on that.

Maybe she'd just pray that Barry would move out and get a flat on his own. He
surely
didn't want to spend the rest of his life living with her.

It was all so upsetting. Lillian pushed away her untouched sandwich. She wasn't hungry.

The ripples of this marriage breakup were affecting so many lives. Hers and Ciara's most of all. Her life was a hard old grind again. Just like before. And she didn't have the guts to do anything about it. That was the hardest thing of all to live with.

Brenda sat in the staff canteen drinking coffee. The chatter and buzz annoyed her. The rattle of china and cutlery was giving her a headache. She read the headlines.

Once, the news of the first divorce in Ireland going through the courts would have filled her with joy. Now she just didn't know what to think.

Being involved with Barry left her feeling like she was walking on a tight-rope. One false move and that was it.

Why wouldn't he commit to her and marry her like she wanted to marry
him? Why did he keep using Ciara as an excuse?

It wasn't exactly as if he was Father-of-the-Year-Award material. Actually, he wasn't as good a father as she had once given him credit for.

He admitted it too. But he was too selfish to do anything about it. It was a side of him that Brenda didn't like. She tried not to think about it too often.

If he was living with her permanently, Ciara could spend more time with them. The trouble was, Brenda knew that he was happy enough living with his mother. He was well looked after. Better than when he'd lived with Alison. He had all the home comforts. And he was well fed. Barry liked his food.

He had Brenda for sex when he needed it. Then he could run home to his mammy.

How could she compete with Ma
McHugh? Brenda asked herself over and over.

Barry often told her that his mother liked him living with her. “It makes her feel more secure,” he said.

He wouldn't like to “desert” her.

That had chilled Brenda to the bone. Something
drastic
had to be done. She needed to make living with her more attractive to him.

Brenda got up from the table and marched upstairs to her office. She flicked impatiently through the phone book. She knew she couldn't sink any lower. Her pride was in tatters. But needs must, she told herself firmly. She found the number she was looking for and dialled it.

“Hello, I'd like to make an enquiry about getting Sky Sports. How do I go about it?”

Kathy brushed beaten egg on top of the chicken and mushroom pie and popped it in the oven. It would be cooked by the time the children came in from school. She'd made it specially for Ciara. It was her god-daughter's favourite.

Ciara was spending the weekend with them – yet again.

Kathy frowned.

Alison had phoned with one of her big stories about how she needed Ciara looked after.

She'd told Kathy that she'd got a
lovely offer of a weekend away with her new boyfriend. She couldn't ask Barry and Brenda to take her because it wasn't their weekend to have Ciara. Alison said that they weren't at all flexible about swapping weekend parenting duties.

“And she just loves being with you and Mike. And Sara's her
very
best friend,” Alison gushed. As usual.

Kathy was so angry she wanted to tell Barry and Alison
exactly
what she thought of them.

She hadn't seen Barry since that dreadful night when she'd walked in on him and Brenda. That was over a year ago. Since then, he hadn't had the manners to contact her or Mike once. He had never apologised. It was as if they didn't exist in his life.

Some friend he'd turned out to be, not even having the guts to face them.
Or maybe he just didn't want to. He'd dropped them like hot potatoes when he didn't need them. All their happy times together meant nothing. That hurt!

Kathy could accept that Barry couldn't face her, but she couldn't forgive him for the way he was treating Ciara.

She'd never forget Sara telling her last summer that Ciara had got a postcard from her daddy and his girlfriend. They were on holiday. She hoped they'd buy her a nice present.

Barry had only seen Ciara three times last summer. At least Alison had taken her away for a week. Barry had taken his two-weeks' holidays and spent them driving around the country with Brenda.

The best he could do was to send Ciara a postcard. Kathy had been very angry when she'd heard about it.

“It's neglect, Mike. That's what it is. I'm going to have it out with him. And with Alison. The two of them are off having the life of Reilly and it's you and me that are here worrying about Ciara,” she raged to her husband.

“And if you cause a row who's going to suffer? Ciara is. Say nothing. It's not our place to interfere. All we can do is be here for Ciara as long as she needs us. If there's an argument they might stop her from seeing us. That poor kid has enough trouble in her life without that. Say nothing,” Mike had advised.

Kathy knew he was right. She held her tongue. But it was very hard to stay silent.

Alison was using them at every opportunity. She was always saying how much Ciara loved staying with them. She was trying to make them feel bad if they said that they wouldn't look
after her. Kathy was sick of it. Only that she loved Ciara like one of her own, she'd tell them to get lost.

Kathy set the table for dinner. She was most annoyed at the whole set-up. But she could do nothing without hurting Ciara.

That was the worst thing of all.

Ciara sat in class and listened as her teacher explained the assessment test for getting into secondary school. It was like a huge weight on her shoulders. She was dreading it. She stopped listening. She thought about Robbie Williams instead.

Later, the teacher told the class to take out their maths books. Ciara always felt like a dunce when she tried to do maths. She was going to stay with her friend Sara this weekend. She'd ask Sara's dad to explain Simple Interest to
her. Mike was very good at explaining maths.

She was glad to be staying with the Stuarts this weekend. She didn't want to go to Kilkenny with Alison and her new boyfriend. She hated seeing her mother in bed with another man. And she hated seeing her dad in bed with Brenda of the knitting-needle legs.

Ciara bit her nails. They were down to the stubs. They looked awful. No matter how hard she tried to, she couldn't stop biting them.

Biting her nails made her think of food. She hoped Kathy would cook chicken and mushroom pie for the dinner. It always tasted mega.

Everyone thought that she was dead lucky to have a mother like Alison. A mother who let her wear make-up and minis. Who brought her into pubs and gave her sips of wine. And who allowed
her have a TV in her room. Her friends thought that Alison, who went to discos and knew all the words of the latest pop songs, was dead cool. Ciara just wished that she'd stay at home and cook real dinners and help her with her homework. Like Kathy. Kathy was a
proper
mother, Ciara thought enviously. Sara was very lucky.

“Are your ma and da going to get a divorce?” Sadie Flynn whispered. “Someone got a divorce today. It was on the news at lunch time.”

“No, they're just separated for a while. They're going to get back together,” Ciara whispered back.

She always said that, hoping against hope that it would come true.

“Oh!” said Sadie, disappointed.

The knots tightened in Ciara's stomach. She'd forgotten about the divorce thing. Now it loomed large again.

Her mother and father hated each other. Ciara knew keep down that they would never live together again.

Barry probably wanted to marry Brenda.

Alison probably wanted to marry the new boyfriend.

Ciara didn't like him. He picked his nose. He didn't talk much to her. He drank. It would be awful if he moved into their house.

If her mother and father got a divorce that might happen.

Ciara chewed the top of her pen miserably. Another great worry to add to the ones she had already.

“
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
,” Alison McHugh sang to herself as she packed her toilet bag for the weekend. She was looking forward to the trip to Kilkenny.

She felt young and carefree. So different from the past few years. It was a joy to be free and almost single again. Alison folded her white, lacy nightdress neatly.

Not that she wanted a divorce. She had given the matter a lot of thought. Alison was happy as she was. She had
the house. She had Ciara. She wasn't going to disgrace the family name with a divorce. Brenda could have the rat. But she wasn't getting her mitts on any of their money. That would include a half share of the house and whatever money that would be divided between her and Barry if they divorced.