Three Women (26 page)

‘Auntie Mary,’ confirmed Nikki, ‘my godmother. She’s gone to Spain for two weeks with her family, that’s why she’s not here.’

‘Nikki, don’t you dare do that on us!’ warned Claire nervously.

There were gambas al ajillo, chorizo and peppers, patatas bravas, calamari, stuffed tomatoes and green peppers, chicken
in
a salsa sauce. Everyone tucked in and Erin made a second jug of sangria and a special fizzy cocktail for Nikki before they got around to opening the gifts. It was getting darker, so they all sat down on the couches as Nikki opened present after present.

There were luxury nighties and a silk wrap for the hospital, a soothing relaxing CD, a jar of Crème de la Mer moisturizing cream, a bottle of her favourite Hermès perfume, a gorgeous Lulu Guinness toiletries bag and matching shower cap, vouchers for Day spa treatments, chocolates and a bottle of champagne for post-baby celebrations; and a divine nappy bag for Snoopy B, plus a whole load of baby gifts – baby-grows for the hospital, a changing mat, baby bath towels and a robe, a T-shirt with
Snoopy B
printed on it, a grow-bag for the baby to sleep in – ‘Get Snoopy into a good routine,’ advised Angie, who had been seriously sleep-deprived until she had discovered the magic of the grow-bag – and lots of other goodies. There was even a bundle of Nikki’s favourite chick-flick DVDs to while away her time on the couch and a
My Baby
photo album from Lucy who worked with her.

‘You’ve all been so good and so kind and supportive of me, especially when I am on my own,’ sobbed Nikki, getting all emotional.

‘You’re not on your own!’ the girls all promised her. ‘We’re all here for you and Snoopy B whenever you need us.’

Later they slipped on the DVD of
Bridget Jones
as Nikki stretched out on the couch and relaxed. Erin smiled when at almost one a.m. she realized that Nikki was asleep and snoring softly as everyone began to slip quietly away.

EVER SINCE THE
night she had told paddy about erin, things had changed. Kate realized what an absolute giant of a man she had married. He could have been nasty or mean or given out to her, but he hadn’t. With Paddy Cassidy there were no recriminations, just understanding and forgiveness.

When he had gone to work the next day and she was alone, she had cried and cried; shuddering, shaking tears, crying as if a massive dam inside her had been opened, releasing all the pent-up years of loneliness and grief and loss that she had experienced, like a raging current washing and stripping it all away from her. Afterwards she had felt drained and exhausted and had slept, only waking when it was dark, and then sleeping again.

When she awoke next morning she felt tired, like she had completed some exhausting athletic feat or marathon, but as she stood naked in the shower washing herself she felt strangely energized, renewed, as if the dark hidden place within her had suddenly disappeared, gone for ever.

They went out for dinner that evening and Kate showed
Paddy
her photo of Erin and told him about meeting her daughter.

‘She’s beautiful like you, Kate,’ he said. ‘And if she is anything like her mother then she must be a very special girl.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, kissing him, wondering how she had been so fortunate to have been given a second chance – not just with Erin, but with her marriage.

‘Are you going to tell the kids?’ Paddy asked. ‘I think that they deserve to know.’

Kate was extremely nervous about her sons’ and daughter’s reaction to finding out that she had been an unmarried mother and that they had an older half-sister.

‘I want to tell them all together,’ she insisted. ‘I know Aisling is around, but I want to wait until Kevin gets back from his JI in Chicago and Sean is home from holiday in Thailand with his pals. If we tell one of them, you know that they will just Facebook or email or phone each other. I want to tell them face to face. I don’t want them to hear it from someone else.’

‘And what about the party?’ he asked. He pulled the invitation from his pocket and laid it on the table.

She looked at it and at him. This was important to him.

‘I think we should go ahead and have it!’ she laughed. ‘We have so much to be grateful for, and I want to celebrate twenty-five years of being married to the kindest man in the world, who I love very much.’

‘Then we’ll get cracking on the invites!’ he said, delighted.

Two weeks later, when everyone was home, Paddy told them that they wanted to talk to them about something.

‘It’s probably about the bloody party and us helping out,’ complained Kevin, who was still jet-lagged and hungover
after
the best summer of his life working as waiter in a bar in Chicago for six weeks.

Kate was nervous as hell about telling them. She hadn’t said a word to Erin about it. Paddy sat in the big armchair in the living room and the kids were all on the couch.

‘Your mum wants to talk to you about something,’ Paddy said sternly, which immediately got their attention.

Kate stood up. ‘I wanted to tell you all something very important about something that happened in my life when I was much younger. I hope it won’t change things in the family, but even if it does you still need to know.’

She could see that Aisling was tense, pale and hunched forward.

‘When I was younger – about your age, Kevin – I was in college. I met someone and we fell in love. We hung out together all the time. Then I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. Neither of us had any money and we were both students, but I did know that I wanted to have my baby. Auntie Sally was very good to me. But the guy panicked. I was scared, but he was even more scared about us having a baby. I had a little girl that March. She was so beautiful … but I knew that I couldn’t manage being a single mum with so little support, so I gave her up for adoption. I wanted my baby to have a proper family and parents and a nice life – things that I couldn’t give her at that time.’

She could see they were stunned – trying to process this new side to her.

‘Mum, you had a baby!’ cried Aisling accusingly. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘I didn’t tell anyone. It was a secret,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose I was ashamed.’

‘Why are you telling us now?’ demanded Sean.

‘Because my daughter, Erin, has recently come back into my life and it’s only fair that you should all know about her.’

They all bombarded her with questions about having the baby and about Erin herself. She could tell they were angry with her, furious, blaming her for getting pregnant, for not having the courage to keep her baby, and for lying to them and deceiving them.

‘Mum, all the times you told me that I was your only little girl you were lying to me!’ Aisling screamed at her. ‘I don’t want a half-sister!’ And she stormed off up to her bedroom, banging the door so hard that it nearly came off its hinges.

She could see that her sons regarded her differently too, both of them awkward about it. Kevin hugged her at least, but Sean made some excuse about having to meet someone and left.

‘That went well!’ She felt overwhelmed and near to tears as Paddy pulled her into his arms.

‘Give them a chance to think about it, get used to the idea. They’ll come around. Then we can organize for everyone to meet her.’

‘Meet Erin?’

‘Of course,’ said Paddy firmly. ‘She’s your daughter and their half-sister – and everyone in this family will have to get used to it!’

NINA CLOSED HER
eyes as dominick delahunt arrived to see the house. He was one of the senior partners in Delahunt’s, the big auctioneering firm that was usually retained to sell larger properties in Dublin and around the countryside. With his arrival, the first steps in selling their beloved home were now being taken.

Tom was locked away upstairs in his study, while she had spent the past few days trying to get the house in order for Dominick’s visit.

The auctioneer had a pad and pen and voice-recorder with him and, as she started to show him around the large living room and dining room, he kept up a running commentary of his own, which was a bit disquieting.

‘What a lovely home! Warm and sunny – so many of these old houses suffer desperately from damp and are impossible to heat.’ He remarked on the fireplaces, the windows, the plaster-work and woodwork, and even on the doors and door handles. He seemed to notice everything.

When Tom joined them she could see he was pleased that
Dominick
had such an appreciation for their home. They walked from room to room – the five bedrooms; the bathrooms; the study; the large landing with its view of the sea; the old-fashioned walk-in airing cupboard; the downstairs that had been upgraded with a hand-painted kitchen, a large living and dining area with patio doors to the garden, and a cosy den for watching TV; and the large utility/laundry room with its old-fashioned Belfast sink and large storage area.

‘A remarkable period property!’ continued Dominick. ‘I would think that it only needs upgrading work in terms of the bathrooms and kitchen.’

The kitchen! Nina loved their kitchen. Why would anyone want to change it?

Tom then showed Dominick all around the outside of the house and the garden, Bailey following the two of them. Tom led the way down the very back of the garden towards the old boat house. They seemed to be an age out there, and the two of them walked back up towards the house, heads bent deep in discussion. She wondered what kind of valuation the auctioneer would put on a home that was so loved!

When they came back into the kitchen where she was waiting she made a pot of coffee and produced some home-made oat cookies. She was as nervous as anything.

‘Clifton is very special,’ Dominick said admiringly, ‘and I know how hard it must be for both of you to have to put it up for sale at this present time.’

Nina nodded, trying not to cry.

‘Tom has filled me in on the reasons for the sale and I assure you that many properties on our books are being sold for broadly similar reasons, but a home is at least a form of saving which most of us have at our disposal should we need it.’

‘We hate leaving it and having to sell,’ Nina confessed. ‘We love this old place.’

‘I often feel with these big old houses that we are all only caretakers from one generation to the next,’ Dominick said kindly. ‘When you think of how many families must have lived here over the past hundred and forty years or so, and walked the staircase and slept in the bedrooms and sat talking around that magnificent fireplace. We might pay the mortgage, and be able to say on paper we own a house like this outright, but we never really do – we are only enjoying the privilege of minding it until another family becomes part of its fabric.’

What a lovely thing to say, thought Nina, comforted by his words and very relieved that it was Dominick who was selling Clifton.

‘Well, as I was saying, a gracious property like this with its extensive gardens and location, so close to Dalkey village, the sea and the DART, is ideal, and I feel it should certainly be able to attract a lot of interested parties.’

‘Has Tom explained to you that we don’t want open viewings and gangs of people traipsing through the house?’ Nina asked.

‘Of course. I would only suggest privately booked viewings with a house like this.’ He smiled. ‘We would include it in the property section of the
Irish Times
, with a photograph and details, but my hope is that the paper itself might also do a piece on it for their readers. People still love reading about old houses.’

He discussed the agency’s fees and then told them what he realistically felt he could achieve. Nina could see Tom was disappointed.

‘I thought that we would get at least Euro 500.000 more than that!’

‘We could be lucky, but I’m afraid the banks are being far more circumspect as to who they lend to and how much they will lend.’

Tom looked rather crestfallen.

‘But I’ll do my very best on your behalf,’ promised Dominick.

‘It’s just that when we sell the house we hope to buy a smaller place here in the Dalkey area, if possible,’ explained Tom.

‘Unfortunately there are very few smaller homes for sale at present,’ admitted Dominick, ‘but I promise that I’ll keep an eye out for a suitable property for you.’

Nina couldn’t believe it when Dominick confirmed that the sale of Clifton would be advertised in a few weeks and go up on Delahunt’s website then. ‘We are better to wait until the first or second week in September when people return from holidays and decide to start looking at houses again and the market is refreshed with new properties. Then we will go ahead and run our sales campaign.’

Nina was relieved that at least the ‘For Sale’ sign wasn’t going up next week.

Following Dominick’s visit Tom seemed even more preoccupied than ever and spent much of his time trying to work out the vagaries of their finances, as the sale of Harris Engineering was due to be signed. Nina couldn’t bear the thought of the house being sold and almost wished that nobody would want to buy it.

‘Of course someone will buy it – it’s a perfect house, a good-size family home with a lovely garden and, as Dominick says, there are the coach house and outbuildings too. God
knows
where I’ll put my boat in the winter when we’ve sold the place.’

‘Maybe we could keep the coach house,’ suggested Nina. ‘It is right down the very back of the garden with hardly any connection to the house, and then you could still store your boat there. We could section off that part of the garden and courtyard area and just not include them in the sale.’

‘Dominick would probably go mad!’

‘It’s our house, not Dominick’s!’ she reminded him.

They walked down the garden to see whether they could do it and, as they wandered around the old coach house with its courtyard and overgrown wasteground, they looked at each other.

‘Let’s look inside, Tom,’ Nina said, opening the door.

Despite being neglected, the old building was warm, its stone walls dry and sealed; and it was actually much bigger than it seemed from the outside. There were the trailer for the boat and Tom’s tools and his big workbench and pots of old paint, bicycles and the ride-on garden mower. There was a small bathroom and what must have served as a rough kitchen with a few presses and a sink; then stairs led up to the loft area. Nina climbed up carefully. She hadn’t been up here in years. More old rubbish stored. But, again, it was dry and warm, and from the small windows you could see across the back laneway and up towards the curving slope of the coast road and Killiney.