A Perfect Match (25 page)

‘How?’

‘Amanda Nolan, the presenter, thinks that a fly on the wall documentary about a young girl having cosmetic surgery would boost ratings. It was Babs’s idea and she fell for it hook, line and sinker. So now our little sister is getting what she always wanted, free of charge.’

‘God, she’ll be unbearable with a nice nose. That schnozz is the only thing that makes her human.’

‘I know. She has high hopes for a Hollywood career, with her new nose.’

‘As if she’s not bad enough already. No wonder Mum was going spare. Can we stop it?’

‘As if.’

‘Is it even worth a try?’ he asked.

‘Does Dolly Parton sleep on her stomach?’

‘Yeah, you’re right. She’ll never give up a new nose. Is it dangerous?’

‘No. They’re sending her to a top guy in London, and, let’s face it, they’re not going to risk anything on TV. She’ll be getting the best treatment.’

‘No more Seabiscuit.’

‘No more Barbra Streisand.’

‘No more Barry Manilow.’

‘It was beautiful while it lasted,’ I sighed. ‘The hours of fun we’ve had, slagging her about that honker.’

‘All over now.’

‘Yep.’

‘Unless they screw it up and make it worse.’

‘Oh, wouldn’t that be great.’

‘Fantastic,’ agreed Sean.

‘Anyway, enough about Babs, how are things with you? How’s Shadee?’

‘Great, thanks. Still going really well. I’m in shock. It’s been a year. My longest relationship ever.’

‘God, Sean, I can’t believe it’s been that long. I’ve been so wrapped up in this adoption stuff I haven’t noticed the time. That’s great.’

‘How’s the adoption going? Have you started the home visits?’

‘Unfortunately, yes.’

‘Uh, oh, that sounds ominous.’

‘Well, it was all going swimmingly until James and I had a massive scrap just after the social worker, Dervla, left. I was nagging him about what he had said and he got annoyed and roared at me that he said all the right things and not to worry because he hadn’t told Dervla he was a closet paedophile – when we realized she was standing behind us. I hadn’t closed the front door properly and she had come back in to get her keys.’

Sean struggled not to laugh, but it was too much. Once he started he couldn’t stop and I even ended up joining in. It was funny – in a sad, sick, farcical way.

‘Sorry, sis, I didn’t mean to laugh,’ said Sean. ‘What did you say to her?’

‘Nothing. We were both so shocked that we just stared at her in silence. She grabbed her keys and bolted out to her car.’

‘When are you seeing her again?’

‘Next week, so we’ll have to do some serious grovelling.’

‘Just tell her it’s James’s twisted English sense of humour. By the way, I need your advice.’

‘Sure, what’s up?’

‘Well … I’m going to ask Shadee to marry me and I want to know what kind of ring I should get.’

‘What! Oh my God, Sean, that’s amazing. When did you decide?’ I said, realizing that I was genuinely thrilled for him. Although I had only met Shadee once, she seemed like a really lovely person and it was clear she adored Sean. And whenever he told me stories about her they were always really nice – she always seemed to be putting herself out for him or doing things to make him happy.

‘To be honest I’ve known for ages that she was the one. But considering the disastrous decisions I’ve made in the past, I had to be sure, so I waited. And now I’m positive. So what do you think? A solitaire or three diamonds in a row? Gold or platinum?’

‘What does she wear – gold or silver?’

‘Gold, mostly.’

‘Well, you can’t go wrong with a solitaire on a gold band. Lucy’s one is stunning.’

‘Great. I’ll do that. Thanks, sis. Needless to say, not a word to anyone. I’ll let Mum get over Babs’s cosmetic surgery before springing this on her. I don’t want to push her over the edge.’

‘It’s a bit late for that, she’s certifiable. Good luck with the ring and call me when you’ve proposed.’

‘Will do. It won’t be for a few weeks, I’m going to wait until her birthday.’

‘Lucky girl.’

‘Lucky guy,’ said Sean, modest as ever.

The one good thing about Babs getting the nose job was that it meant I didn’t have her traipsing after me, driving me insane. Amanda’s production team were sorting out the details and they were hoping to tape the whole process in a diary format, with Babs talking into a camera for ten minutes every day, before, during and after the operation. Amanda said they hoped to be ready to shoot in six to eight weeks.

Time dragged until the next home visit and as the day approached I got more and more nervous. I had decided that honesty was the best policy and I was just going to say it straight out to Dervla when I saw her.

She arrived in, and after offering her a cup of coffee, I opened my mouth but James jumped in.

‘Dervla, we’re a bit embarrassed about the last session, when you came back for your keys and we were having a bit of a tiff. Emma seems to think that you may have taken my joke about Thai boys seriously because apparently everyone assumes English public school boys like having sex with each other. I can assure you we don’t. If any of the other boys had come near me, I would have given them a right hook.’

‘Not that James is homophobic,’ I added, making sure we covered all angles.

Dervla nodded and smiled – she actually smiled! ‘It’s all right, James, I didn’t have you down as a child molester.’

James and I beamed at each other. Dervla had smiled – we were back on track. The meeting went well, we went over old ground in more detail. We discussed our motivation for adopting, our feelings about adoption, our capacity to safeguard a child and promote its development and understand the impact that being an adopted child from overseas has on the child’s identity. For the first time since the process began I was totally myself. I felt calm and relaxed. When Dervla left that day I felt really positive about the adoption and our chances of being approved.

While we were progressing with our adoption, Lucy and Donal were planning their wedding.

‘You must be joking,’ said Lucy when she saw the guest list Donal handed her. ‘There are over seventy people on this. We’re having a small wedding. Sixty guests in total. Thirty for you and thirty for me. You’ll have to change it.’

‘Why are we only having sixty people? People will think we’ve no mates.’

‘Because big weddings are stupid, especially when the bride is thirty-six. I want a small, sophisticated wedding, with close friends and family.’

‘We country folk like big weddings.’

‘Well, then you should have married Mary and had a big country wedding in a big barn with five hundred relations dancing around hay stacks.’

‘Now that sounds like a wedding to me. There’s no way I can only invite thirty people. Sure the team alone plus James and their other halves is thirty and that’s not including the squad.’

‘Stuff the squad. Just invite James and one or two of the lads you’re closest to.’

‘Jesus, Lucy, I can’t not invite the lads. We’ve played together every day for years. There’s no way I can leave them out.’

‘I’m only inviting two people from work.’

‘You don’t like the people you work with – I do.’

‘Well, then, invite James and no one else. Then they won’t feel left out.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Fine, invite the team – not the squad – plus your parents and that’ll be thirty-two,’ said Lucy impatiently.

‘And what about my brother? Is he allowed to come or does he not qualify as a close enough relative? And my cousin Frankie from across the road who was like a sister to me and her parents and –’

‘The team, your parents and your brother. Cousin Frankie from across the road can sod off. She’s not coming.’

‘I couldn’t not invite Frankie, or Joe McGrath.’

‘Who the hell is Joe McGrath?’ said Lucy, losing patience.

‘Joe McGrath is the man who gave me my first break. The man who spotted my talent as a young lad running around the fields in Ballydrum,’ said Donal, eyes misting over. ‘If it wasn’t for Joe I wouldn’t be where I am today.’

‘If Joe McGrath was such a big bloody deal, how come you never mentioned him before?’

‘I’m always talking about Joe, you just never listen.’

‘Yeah, right. Sorry, Donal, the wonderful Joe isn’t coming. No room at the inn.’

‘Show me your list,’ said Donal, grabbing it. ‘And who the hell is Nora Killeen when she’s at home?’

‘Nora’s my beautician.’

‘What?’

‘I’ve been going to her for years. We’re very close.’

‘You’re inviting some bird who waxes your armpits, and I’m not allowed to invite Joe?’ said Donal in disbelief.

‘Norah Killeen discovered me as a young girl running around Dublin with bushy eyebrows. If it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be where I am today,’ said Lucy, smirking.

‘You’re a riot,’ said Donal, looking down the list. ‘Babs!’ he exclaimed.

‘Well, Emma’s been my best friend since we were kids. Her parents were always really nice to me and I get on really well with Sean too, so I didn’t want to leave Babs out. I know she’s a bit of a handful, but she’s just young and immature.’

‘No, Lucy. I don’t want her at the wedding,’ said Donal firmly.

‘Come on, she’s not that bad.’

‘Yes, she is.’

‘I didn’t think you knew her that well?’ said Lucy, looking puzzled.

‘Jesus, I don’t, I barely know her at all. I just hear from James that she tends to cause havoc wherever she goes. I don’t want her ruining our wedding.’

‘She’ll be grand, we’ll stick her beside one of the rugby guys.’

‘No, Lucy, I really think we should leave her out.’

‘No, Donal, Emma’s my friend and she’s been really good to me, especially recently when I had to move in with her,’ said Lucy, pointedly. ‘I want to invite her whole family. Babs is coming and that’s the end of it.’

28

Over the next six weeks we had our final three home sessions and Dervla chose to visit Donal as our referee. Well, she would, wouldn’t she? Why choose a nice safe family unit like Jess and Tony to visit, when you can visit the bachelor guy who while engaged to my best friend slept with my sister. I was a nervous wreck when Donal phoned to say Dervla had made an appointment to call out to him. Donal, needless to say, was as confident as ever and told me to relax, that he had it all under control, and that charming the pants off women was his forte.

‘Believe me, Donal, I’m all too familiar with your charms. Just do me a favour and try not to have sex with her.’

‘I’ll try and control myself.’

‘Just reiterate all the nice things you wrote down on the form and don’t be laddish or try to be funny. She doesn’t have a sense of humour, and she takes her job very seriously, so no gags. Wear something other than your tracksuit. A suit would be great or just nice trousers and a shirt. Don’t offer her alcohol and –’

‘Don’t fart, belch, pick your nose, scratch your balls, smile too much, frown too much or breathe loudly. Am I right?’

‘Well, now that you mention it, you do scratch your balls a lot, you’re always poking around down there, so try and control it.’

‘James is a saint,’ said Donal.

‘As is Lucy. Oh and, Donal, try not to mention your fetish for young blondes,’ I replied.

‘Are you ever going to let that one go?’ he groaned.

‘Not until after the meeting with Dervla. If it goes well, I might consider forgetting about it.’

Before Donal’s referee meeting, we had another home visit where we covered our experiences of loss and our family support network. With James’s family all living in England, the onus was really on my family to pick up the baton. I said my parents would be a great help and had always been very supportive. Unfortunately, the only sibling I had living in Dublin was Babs, so we bent the truth and said she would be a great asset to have around and the fact that she was young and energetic was a bonus. When we talked about loss, I focused on my feelings of grief at not being able to have a child of my own, which were still quite raw, and I think Dervla was relieved that I didn’t mention Garfield or my front teeth.

I called Lucy the day of Dervla’s visit to Donal.

‘Is the house clean?’

‘Spotless, I promise,’ she assured me.

‘Did you pick out something respectable for him to wear?’

‘Yes, he’s wearing a lovely blue shirt I bought him and very conservative naw trousers.’

‘Did you remind him not to be scratching his balls or cracking jkes?’

‘I did.’

‘Sorry to be a pest, it’s just really important that she thinks he’s a good referee.’

‘He knows that. Don’t worry, he’ll be brilliant.’

Dervla arrived at exactly four o’clock. Donal answered the door in his smart clothes and welcomed her in. He offered her tea and coffee, but she said a glass of water would be fine. They sat opposite each other and while Dervla was getting her notepad out, Donal decided to break the ice with a joke.

‘What is the difference between God and a social worker? God doesn’t pretend to be a social worker.’

Dervla looked up at him. Mistaking this for encouragement, Donal continued, ‘What’s the difference between a social worker and a pit bull terrier? At least you can get part of your baby back from the pit bull,’ he said, roaring laughing.

Unsurprisingly, Dervla was not amused. She cleared her throat, ‘When you’re ready, Mr Brady, I’d like to start with the interview or do you have any more jokes you’d like to get out of the way first?’

‘No, thank you, that’s it on the joke front. Please fire ahead,’ said Donal, silently cursing himself for misjudging the situation. This bird was in no mood for comedy. Shite, he’d have to make up for it by doing a spectacular interview.

‘How long have you known James and Emma Hamilton?’

‘I’ve known James seven years and Emma five.’

‘How would you describe their relationship.’

‘Excellent. I recently got engaged myself and I can honestly say that I’d love for Lucy and myself to have as happy a marriage as the two of them.’

‘You have described James as your best friend. Is that correct?’

‘Absolutely. He’s going to be the best man at my wedding. We’ve worked together even’ day now for seven years. He’s a great fella altogether.’