Page 8 of The Snag List
‘Thank you!’ Ailbhe trilled. ‘I just need a straw for mine.’ She indicated her arms tied up with holding the baby. ‘Or an IV.’
‘It won’t come to that, I’ll pop her down in the Moses basket.’ Eileen eased her granddaughter into her arms and padded back out.
Ailbhe rolled her shoulders gratefully and scooped up her glass. She drained half and topped it back up, ignoring the flicker of Holly’s eyes. She gratefully settled back on the couch, recognising their Mellow playlist from Beautify drifting out of Holly’s speakers. This coupled with the scent of the various products instantly transported Ailbhe back to their salon and the day she’d found out she was pregnant.
It was the end of July the previous summer and they’d just closed. Ailbhe had announced she was late so Holly was fixing some fortifying G&Ts while Ailbhe stood in the little bathroom paralysed with shock. Positive. Of all the stupid shit she’d ever pulled, nothing had ever had permanent consequences. Not like this. Fuck. She could have had a termination, of course, but even amid the jittery panic she detected not a longing as such but maybe a flicker of curiosity. While she would never have set out to make this happen, once she was faced with the possibility, she became consumed with how she would feel if shedidn’tjust go for it. Would she regret not taking the chance when it was presented to her? Would she always wonder how it would have been?
‘FOMO is no reason to become a mother,’ Holly had said firmly.
‘Yeah, well, I can’t help thinking about it,’ she’d argued.
Thinking led to more thinking until she’d thought her way right into keeping the baby. And so it was more by dint of a double negative – not wanting tonothave Tilly – that she’d had her.
Eileen was more reassuring on the method of Ailbhe’s decision-making. ‘Not wanting tonothave them is probably how 90 per cent of babies happen,’ she’d said with a shrug.
Ailbhe wasn’t big on regrets. Her reasoning was: You made the decisions with the information you have to hand and that’s all you can do. The information Ailbhe’d had to hand was a positive pregnancy test and a man who was, let’s face it, a very solid bet. He loved her and she did really like him. They had fun. The fact that there was a slight timing issue regarding Tilly’s conception had to be put out of her mind. The other possibility didn’t bear thinking about. For a myriad of reasons, it was just better if Tom was the father. They’d go to America and start their new lives afresh and Ailbhe could leave the soiled feeling of guilt here in Dublin.
Tilly would have a completely different childhood to Ailbhe’s. Ponies and boats and holidays. Security. A mumanda dad. Really, it was all a lot simpler if she just put some distance, an ocean, between her and that niggling little doubt. And the doubt really was just a niggle. At night, she soothed the warm little body draped over her shoulder and she turned it over in her mind, interrogating the events. And each time, she’d eventually conclude that it really was way more likely that Tom was Tilly’s father. Waaaaay more likely. Pretty much nearly definitely – 99 per cent. Or 89 per cent, maybe. Look, OK, she wouldn’t betTilly’slife on it but she’d happily betEilers’life on it. Eilers’d had a good life, she was a good age. Kind of. What more was she planning to do at fifty-nine?
‘Well, Siobhán is getting on great,’ Holly announced. ‘I honestly think she’s a good candidate to become manager now that you’re leaving for good.’ Holly’s support made Ailbhe feel even worse. She had worried Holly would think Ailbhe was abandoning her for an easy life with a wealthy husband. Holly didn’t know,couldn’tknow, that Ailbhehadto do it. For herself, for her daughter.
She wished she could tell Holly the whole truth – how every time she looked at Tilly she felt an overriding panic as well as a rush of love – but even Eilers didn’t know. Ailbhe was alone in this one.
‘So how am I looking?’ She smiled as brightly as she could. ‘Are we talking hours or days to get me back on track?’
Holly, crouched down by Ailbhe’s former feet, now hooves, gave her an appraising look and picked up the left one. ‘These are in bits.’ She flicked at Ailbhe’s heel. ‘I should’ve brought the angle grinder!’
At that moment, Niall popped his head back in. ‘I have an angle grinder down in the van, if ya need?’
‘We’re grand, Niall, thanks.’
Niall headed back down the hall to the office to wrangle with yet more cryptic instructions and Ailbhe leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘Bang of the Paul Mescals off him.’ She grinned at Holly. ‘TG he’s finishing up in the next few days – I need to get out of his sexy orbit.’
‘Don’t forget you’re resoundingly off the market. I know what you’re doing.’ Holly was vigorously filing Ailbhe’s toenails. ‘You’re trying to act like the old days. Like you’re still rounding up dick for your collection. You are married now, Ailbhe. I know this is a part of your “pattern” or whatever, but seriously, if you try and pull your usual Ailbhe crap on Tom, I will absolutely go off. You guys are so good together.’
‘I can still look!’
‘Oh really … And you’vejustbeen looking?’ Holly dropped Ailbhe’s foot, dried her hands and pulled her phone from her pocket with a flourish.
Ailbhe felt a tug of fear. She couldn’t possibly know. She couldn’t.
Ailbhe knew this was pure paranoia, but over the last ten months she’d come to learn what harbouring a massive, radioactive secret could do to a person’s ability to be rational.
Do not look like a person fighting a mild to medium panic attack, Ailbhe warned herself silently. Out loud, she said, ‘Can’t imagine what you’re getting at …’ trying to sound bored with a touch of amused.
Holly shook her head looking exasperated as she scrolled.
If she knew she’d look mad. Or maybe not mad. Disgusted? Horrified? It didn’t really bear thinking about.
‘Aha, got it.’ Holly swung her phone around and slapped it into Ailbhe’s hands. ‘Not you commenting on Aidan Murray’s stag weekend post at two in the morning then?’
Ailbhe’s hurtling thoughts immediately slowed: this she could handle. ‘LOL, shut up, Hol. That was ages ago. And a very innocent comment. “Nice pic” is hardly salacious.’
Holly fixed her with a stern glare. ‘A) it was not “ages ago”, it was Monday. B) two in the morning, Ailbhe? What’s that about, if not the lonely vagina of a new mother reminiscing about old hook-ups? And C) this is a historical post, Ailbhe, you absolute rookie. How long were you scrolling back on Aidan Murray’s account to unearth it? Him and Sheila are at the marriage-counselling stage by now.’
‘I actually never slept with Aidan.’
‘If you never slept with him, then he’s the only one on this Carrick trip you didn’t.’ Holly laughed. ‘Oh, and of course Seb Knox – how could I forget the Forever Near-Miss.’
