Second Time Around (3 page)

Fuck! Suzie sprang up in the bed. Had anyone told Nora she was awake? With a sigh, she sank back into the pillows, remembering that she’d been awake a couple of weeks now and Jess had
assured her that she’d told the world and its mother that Suzie Connors was alive and kicking. No doubt Nora had been at the top of the list.

You could always rely on Jess. Suzie would have gone nuts in those first few weeks in Limerick if it hadn’t been for her elder daughter. She had been a sweet-natured three-year-old and as
good company as an adult, maybe better. When Suzie looked at her daughter she often wondered how she’d managed to produce a beauty like Jess. Although she had the Clarke blue eyes, that was
where the resemblance to her mother ended. Jess was petite with a luxurious mane of dark hair and sallow skin that tanned easily unlike the Connors or Clarke complexions that freckled and
burned.

Sharon was a honeymoon baby, and rather than feel threatened by this new addition to the family, Jess had been delighted with her little sister. Almost four years later Noel had completed their
little family and with her good friend, Nora, nearby to laugh and cry with, she had been quite content with her life in Limerick. Until John had to go and spoil it.

Suzie frowned. Where had that come from? She was pretty sure he’d done something to upset her, something serious, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what. She shook her
head, exasperated. How come some moments in her life were as clear as crystal and others so vague or completely absent?

For example, she had few memories of Sharon’s and Noel’s early days, and yet she remembered so much more about her eldest. Should she really still have these gaps in her memory? It
was bloody frustrating and a bit scary. Not that she planned to tell anyone. It would only mean more fucking tests, and Suzie wasn’t staying in this room a moment longer than she had to.

Katie carried two beers over, oblivious of the admiring looks from the guys who parted to let her through. ‘It’s like a scrum trying to get a drink in this
place,’ she said, squeezing into the seat next to Jess. ‘To your mum!’

‘To Mum.’ Jess smiled.

‘Remind me why we’re here again.’ Katie looked round with distaste.

The stuffy pub was packed and the noise level had risen as more alcohol was consumed.

‘One of the guys is leaving the
Gazette
and the boss asked me to drop by. One drink and we can go.’

‘It’s a small paper. Do you really care that much about them? They’re lucky you write for them, if you ask me.’

Jess smiled. ‘It’s small but Louis lets me cover current affairs and politics and I want to build on that and move away from the lighter, fluffier pieces the bigger papers ask me to
do.’ She pulled a face. ‘It’s hard to get taken seriously as a journalist if you’re commenting on the fashion at an awards ceremony.’

Katie looked round the dingy bar, her eyes narrowing as they settled on Jess’s colleagues from the newspaper. ‘Not the friendliest bunch, are they? A couple of women over there are
staring at you, and not in a good way; and that guy you introduced me to looked straight at my boobs.’

‘Don’t feel special. Tim’s like that with all women and he’s the religious correspondent.’ Jess smirked. She didn’t comment on her female co-workers. She knew
they resented her and she didn’t like to dwell on the reason why.

‘Is the editor nice, at least?’

‘He is.’ Jess smiled, remembering the day she’d stumbled from the hospital after the doctors had explained they didn’t know if Mum would ever wake up, and gone straight
to the monthly meeting at the
Gazette
. She’d sat through it, unable to take anything in. When it was over Louis Healy had taken her aside and asked if everything was
okay, and she’d broken down, sobbing. It was embarrassing, crying on your boss’s shoulder just a few weeks into a job, but she was beyond caring. Louis had led her into the privacy of
his office and given her a large brandy in a paper cup from a bottle stashed in his filing cabinet.

‘For emergencies,’ he’d said with a grin.

Jess was numb in those first dreadful weeks, going through the motions on automatic pilot, and she’d never forget how kind Louis had been. When she wasn’t by her mother’s
bedside, he’d urged her to write, pouring her sadness and loss into her work. It was a welcome distraction and she’d written some of her best pieces during that difficult time.

They started to meet for coffee or a drink outside the office, as Louis was concerned that the other staff would accuse him of giving Jess special treatment. At first, she had thought
she’d imagined the lingering looks, the light pressing of cheeks, later accompanied by a kiss to the side of her mouth. Then his hand on her back as he bent over her, studying her copy, so
close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. He was a lot older than she was and not really her type, but, when he finally took her in his arms, it was easier to go along with it
than to push him away. She was flattered and comforted by the attention.

‘Can we get out of here now?’ Katie asked, breaking in on her thoughts. ‘You’ve done your duty and I’m starving. Pizza?’

‘Sounds good.’ Jess smiled.

When she finally left Katie, Jess decided to call in on her mum before going home. She had some research to do for a piece she was writing on the price and availability of
childcare for a tabloid newspaper, but she wanted to check her mum was doing okay first. Noel was in his final term of university studying engineering and spending most of his time either at
lectures or in the library so Suzie was alone much of the time. Jess wondered how long it would be before she stopped worrying about her mum.

‘In here,’ her mother called when Jess let herself in and tossed her coat and bag on the hall table. She followed the sound of the radio and found her mother sitting at the kitchen
table, brochures spread out in front of her.

‘Hey.’ Jess kissed her forehead and dropped into a chair. ‘I was out with Katie and just dropped in to say hello on my way home.’

‘Dropped in to check up on me, more like.’

Jess smiled. ‘Someone has to. Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?’

‘I’ve spent enough feckin’ time in bed,’ her mother retorted.

‘What’s all this?’ Jess looked at the flyers and leaflets covering the kitchen table.

‘I’ve decided that I need some hobbies.’

Jess picked up the nearest flyer and looked at her in alarm. ‘Ice-skating? You’re kidding.’

‘It’s okay, I’ve decided against that one. It’s a bit tame.’

‘Tame? You could break your leg or hip.’

‘Christ, I’m forty-eight not eighty-eight,’ her mother growled. ‘Still, I was never the sporty type. This is more my kind of thing.’ She jabbed a finger at another
leaflet. ‘I walked miles when I lived in Limerick, mainly to try and get Noel to sleep and because there was feck all else to do.’

‘Hill walking. I suppose it would get you out in the fresh air,’ Jess said, although she’d sleep easier if her mother would just get back into her old routine of knitting and
reading.

‘I quite fancy meditation, too.’

Jess’s lips twitched as she took the brochure Suzie handed her. ‘Buddhism?’

‘I always thought it was mumbo-jumbo but I’ve been reading up on it and it sounds fascinating. There are several classes, from meditation to mindfulness to loving kindness. I thought
that Sharon might like to come along. Lord knows, she could do with loosening up a bit. It’s as if she’s a poker stuck up her arse.’

Jess grinned. Mum’s tactlessness could be embarrassing, but funny, too. ‘You might want to word it a bit more diplomatically when you speak to Shaz,’ she advised.

‘If I can’t talk straight to my own daughter what’s the world coming to?’ she retorted. ‘All I’m saying is that, if she relaxed a little, she might be able to
control her son.’

‘I think that might take a lot of classes,’ Jess mumbled, although she still found her mother’s change in attitude towards her beloved grandchild alarming. She had always doted
on Bobby and turned a blind eye to his bad behaviour, much the way Sharon did.

Jess had found out in their teenage years that she had little in common with her sister, who was interested only in clothes, makeup and boys. She couldn’t wait to leave school, just
wanting to party and get a boyfriend. The older they became, the more they clashed, Jess yelling at her sister to turn down the music when she was trying to study and Sharon ignoring her. It had
been a relief when Sharon left home and, with some space between them, they got on better – not that they sought out each other’s company.

The devastation of Mum’s accident had probably brought them closer than they’d been since they were children, and her mum was right about one thing: Sharon really did need to learn
to relax. The fun-loving teenager had become an anxious young mother who was ruled by her son’s moods.

‘I thought that you might like to do this with me,’ Suzie said.

Jess took the leaflet and laughed. ‘Salsa? I don’t think so.’

‘You were the one who said I should get out more,’ Suzie pointed out with a sulky expression.

Jess rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘I should have known that would come back to haunt me. Yes, you should get out more, but you don’t need
me
with you. Go
with women your own age.’

‘Like who?’ her mother demanded.

Jess cast around for a name and smiled, triumphant. ‘I’m sure Aileen would be interested.’ Her mother’s neighbour was a good mate and always up for a laugh.

‘Aileen has two left feet and not a note in her head. Anyway, she’s coming to the book club with me.’

‘Mum, I’m delighted that you plan to live a fuller life but you don’t have to try everything at once. It’s only a little over two weeks since you left
hospital.’

‘I’m bored out of my mind at home all day, twiddling my feckin’ thumbs,’ Suzie complained.

‘Well, what did you do before you hit your head?’

Her mother scowled. ‘Boring crap like weeding, shopping and I knitted a sweater for that ungrateful little bugger who, after a month’s work, said the colour was wrong and the wool
made him itchy.’

Jess sighed. She wasn’t close to her nephew and she agreed that he could be a little terror, but it took some getting used to hearing Mum call him such terrible names. She’d always
adored her grandson and defended him whenever he was in trouble.

‘I suppose I could redecorate,’ Suzie mused, glancing around. ‘The place is looking a bit tired.’

‘Don’t even think about it!’ Just the thought of her mother up a ladder made Jess’s head ache. She sighed. ‘Fine. I’ll go to one dance class with you but, if
it’s full of desperate women and perverts, I’m out of there.’

Her mother gave a triumphant grin. ‘Great. It’s on Friday nights at eight. I’ll check when it starts.’

‘Oh.’ Jess’s heart sank. That was the one evening of the week that Louis usually spent at her flat. After he’d signed off on the paper, he would pick up a takeaway and a
bottle of wine and come over.

‘Is there a problem?’ Suzie’s eyes narrowed.

Jess shook her head. Louis would understand. ‘No. Friday’s fine.’

There was a commotion in the hall and Sharon’s wheedling voice. ‘No, Bobby, I told you, it’s too late for sweets, it’s almost bedtime. Maybe Granny will give you a
breadstick.’

Suzie rolled her eyes. ‘What on earth are they doing here at this hour?’

The door opened and Sharon walked in, her son trailing behind her.

‘Hi, Shaz, hi, Bobby, it’s good to see you.’ Jess tousled the child’s hair but he jerked his head away. Okay. ‘Everything all right, Shaz?’ she asked. Sharon
was wearing that tense, pinched look that so often marred her pretty face these days.

‘Fine,’ she said, sounding stressed. ‘We were in town and just dropped in on the way home because we bought Granny a present, didn’t we, Bobby?’

The child said nothing and Sharon set down a large bag from an expensive shop on Grafton Street.

Suzie eyed it, frowning. ‘You shouldn’t be spending your money on me.’

‘Why not? You deserve a treat after all you’ve been through. Go on, open it!’ Sharon looked at her expectantly.

Jess clamped a hand firmly over her mouth as her mother pulled out a heavy woollen dress and stared at it in horror.

‘What do you think?’ Sharon prompted, searching her mother’s face.

‘It looks . . . warm,’ Jess said, smiling, praying her mother would be nice. It was a dreadful dress. What had Sharon been thinking?

‘Try it on and let’s see how it looks,’ Sharon urged.

‘Aw, Shaz, are you kidding me?’

‘What?’

‘It’s like something my mother would have worn. No, actually, it’s more like something she’d have taken to the charity shop.’

Jess winced. So much for prayers.

‘I told you she’d hate it,’ Bobby said.

Suzie looked at him in surprise. ‘You were right.’

‘Mum, there’s no need to be rude,’ Jess protested, embarrassed by her mother’s candour.

‘It’s fine,’ Sharon said with a grim smile. ‘I’d offer to exchange it but obviously I have terrible taste. I’ll give you the receipt and you can change it
yourself.’

‘Sharon, she doesn’t mean it,’ Jess murmured.

‘I told her to get blue,’ Bobby said. ‘That colour is yuck.’

‘It is,’ Suzie agreed, examining the shapeless moss-green garment.

‘I need the loo.’ Sharon left the room, slamming the door behind her.

‘Oh, Mum. Could you not have just said it was lovely?’

Bobby raised his head, frowning. ‘But that’s a lie.’

‘Quite right,’ Suzie agreed.

‘Not really, just a little fib.’ Jess smiled at the child. ‘Sometimes it’s okay to tell fibs to make someone feel good.’

‘It’s still a lie. Mum says we should never tell lies.’

‘Well, I don’t know many who keep to that rule,’ Suzie muttered.

‘But wasn’t it kind of them to get you a present, Mum?’ Jess said, with a pointed nod at her nephew.

‘I suppose.’

‘I told her to get the blue one,’ Bobby repeated.

‘Right.’ Jess gave him a bright smile. ‘How about a biscuit?’