Aisling Gayle (57 page)

She threw a glance over at Jacinta, who was sitting on her bed, snivelling into a hanky. “If you still want him – you’re welcome to him. I’d say you both deserve each other. A pair of liars like you two belong together. And you’d be so busy thinking of yourselves, that you wouldn’t have time for a child in any case.”

And then, without a backward glance, Aisling Gayle marched straight down the hospital corridor. Out of the hospital. And out of Oliver Gayle’s life.

Chapter 43

“Phone for you, Pauline,” Charles called from the hallway into the kitchen.

Pauline dropped the roasting pan she was washing into the soapy water in the sink, and quickly dried her hands. Jack was calling earlier than she expected. He’d said he’d give a ring after seven, and it wasn’t even six o’clock yet. “Go on through into the shop, Bernadette,” she told her daughter, who was making a bed up for her doll on Declan’s rocking-chair, “and ask Peenie for a sweetie. Say your mammy said you could have one.”

She smiled as the little girl trotted off down the hallway towards the connecting shop door, and then she went to pick the receiver up.

“Pauline? It’s me . . . is there anyone else around that might be listening?” her sister’s voice said.

“Aisling?” Pauline said, her voice high with surprise. “No, there’s no one else around. Charles and Peenie are through in the shop and Mammy and Daddy have gone off shopping to Tullamore. Is there something wrong?”

There was a little pause. “Well . . . I suppose you could say that.” She halted. “I don’t know where to start . . . but I had to talk to somebody.”

“What is it?” Pauline said, feeling a cold shiver coming over her. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Oliver,” Aisling said, her voice trembling. “I’ve just discovered . . . that he’s been sterilised and didn’t tell me.”

Pauline groped to feel for the wall behind her, and leaned up against it. “I don’t believe it . . . surely Oliver wouldn’t do such a terrible thing?”

“That’s exactly what he did,” Aisling said. “And he kept it a secret until now.”

“How did you find out?” Pauline asked in a low voice.

“He told me this evening,” Aisling said, “when a girl accused him of being the father of her baby.”

Pauline’s hand flew to her mouth, and she shook her head silently.

Aisling halted for a moment, trying to piece all the events in the right order. “This girl from his drama group – Jacinta – rang the house and got me to go into the hospital with some things from the chemist. It was all an excuse just to get me there to tell me about her and Oliver and their supposed baby.”

Pauline’s legs suddenly went all weak. “What happened then?”

“Oliver turned up,” Aisling said, “and the whole thing came out when Jacinta accused him of making her pregnant.”

“Oh, my God, Aisling!” Pauline said. “You know I’ve always thought a lot of him – but Oliver’s a rotten bastard for doing this to you! There’s no other way of saying it – he’s an absolute rotten, lying
bastard
!” Pauline felt really weak now, and wished there was a chair by the phone. Maggie wouldn’t have one beside it, as she said it only encouraged people to waste more time and money talking nonsense. “What did you say when he told you?” Pauline whispered, utterly shocked. “And what did you do?”

Aisling sighed. “What was there to say? Didn’t it only confirm what I knew all along? How many times have I told you and Carmel about his carrying on?”

“I know, I know,” Pauline said, “but finding it out like this must be terrible . . .”

“Yes,” Aisling said, her voice falling flat now. “I’d be a liar if I denied it. The sterilisation thing was the worst – and him letting me go back and forward to the doctor for tests and everything, and then being told that it looked as though I had fertility problems.” She gave a weary sigh. “Between the two of us, there wasn’t a hope in hell of me ever becoming pregnant.”

“Are you OK?” Pauline said gently. “Do you want me to come over? I could ring Carmel if you like, and we could both come over . . .”

Aisling thought for a few moments. “I’ll leave it for tonight if you don’t mind,” she said. “I’m completely washed out . . . and anyway, Oliver will probably land back any minute, and I’d say there will be a bit of carry-on because he’s still trying to persuade me that we could make a go of it.”

“Have you definitely made up your mind?” Pauline asked quietly.

“Definitely,” Aisling confirmed. “There’s nothing would make me take him back after this –
nothing
. If I’d had any kind of guts, I should be gone long, long ago.”

“What about the American?” Pauline asked. “If you’re sure about Oliver, maybe you could go back to America. There’s nothing to stop you now.”

“That’s another story,” Aisling said, her throat suddenly tightening. “Another disaster I just found out about tod
ay. I got a letter today from Jameson’s wife . . . and it would seem she’s back up at the house. It would seem they’re all back living together quite happily.”

“Oh, my God!” Pauline said again. Then, after a moment’s thought, she said, “I wouldn’t be inclined to believe her, Aisling. Maybe she’s made it all up – she could easily have written that letter to put you off, and he mightn’t know a thing about it. The whole thing could be a pack of lies.”

“I thought that, too,” Aisling said quietly, “but I checked it out with Jean this afternoon . . . and it’s true. Verity called over to see Jean and she more or less told her what had happened. She said how Thomas’s accident had brought everyone closer.”

“I still wouldn’t be so quick to believe that one – she sounds a right bitch.”

“She is,” Aisling replied dully. “A first-class bitch.”

“Why don’t you phone Jameson, and find out for yourself?” Pauline suggested.

“There’s no point,” Aisling said. “It’s all too late. I should have stayed in America when I had the chance. I’ve no one to blame but myself. It’s all my own fault.”

* * *

There were a few of the usual last-minute customers in the shop when Pauline went through to collect Bernadette, so she stopped to give the two lads a hand. Weighing out cooking apples and carrots and wrapping them up in newspaper was a whole lot easier than dealing with the terrible thoughts that were racing around in her head.

“Thanks, Pauline,” Peenie said, giving her a wink as she passed the fruit and vegetables over to him. He turned to his elderly customer. “Doesn’t she brighten the place up no end, Mr Murphy? Wouldn’t you pay just to stand and look at her?”

“Go away with you!” Pauline said, giving him a friendly push. She turned to the customer. “And don’t mind a word that fella says – I know well the minute I turn my back he’ll be calling me.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Mr Murphy said. “I wouldn’t say so at all. Peenie Walshe would be only too delighted at yeh turnin’ yer back on him. He’d be delighted at the lovely view he’d get with you in them nice, tight trousers.”

“Now, now,” Peenie said to the man, in a serious tone. “That’s a bit too near the bone, so it is.” He gave Pauline another of his famed winks. “If Mrs Kearney was to appear and hear that kind of talk, we’d all be in a heap of trouble. A whole heap of trouble”

“Ah, sure, we’re only codding the girl,” said Mr Murphy, putting his purchases into his battered old shopping-bag. “And doesn’t Pauline know that well? An’ all the years we’ve been comin’ in and out of the shop. She knows well that we’re only coddin’.”

“True for yeh, Mr Murphy,” Peenie said, grinning. “Sure it’s only a bit of coddology. It’s a bad day when yeh can’t have a bit of the oul’ banter without somebody takin’ offence.”

“Well,” said Pauline, wrapping up a block of cheese in muslin, “if there was more work being done around here, there would be less time for all the codding. There’s them that are customers and entitled to be messing around, and there’s them that should be doing a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. Isn’t that right, Mr Murphy?”

The old man roared with laughter and then, just as Peenie went to come back with an even better line, the shop door opened and in walked Oliver Gayle.

* * *

“I hope you don’t mind me coming out like this, Pauline,” Oliver said, as they pulled away from the shop in the car, “but I had no one else to turn to. I’m almost demented. I don’t know how all this has come about . . . I feel as though the roof has fallen in on top of me.”

Pauline turned to check that Bernadette was all right in the back of the car. The curly-headed child was kneeling up, quite happily looking out of the back window, oblivious to the tension between the two adults as they drove through the town of Tullamore, and then out the Charleville Road towards Birr.

“I know about
everything
, Oliver,” Pauline said in a low, voice. “Aisling phoned me a short while ago . . .”

Oliver sucked his breath in hard. “The carry-on with the girl from the drama group meant nothing – it was just a bit of harmless nonsense. I’d no idea she was one of those hysterical types – bad with her nerves.”

“And the sterilisation business?” Pauline asked. “Was that just a bit of harmless nonsense, too?”

Oliver groaned. “No,” he said, staring straight at the road ahead. “That was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made in my life. I got that one completely wrong.”

Pauline swept her long, dark hair back from her face. “You’re very good at making mistakes, Oliver. And the worst thing is – you don’t seem to learn from them.”

“Pauline,” Oliver said, “please give me a break.” He swallowed hard a few times, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing up and down over the neck of his shirt. “I thought you at least would understand . . . that you would know that at times life was difficult with Aisling. That at times we weren’t the most suited couple in the world.” He paused. “She’s not like you – she can be very deep and serious – and you know I need a bit of a laugh and a joke. It’s in my nature, it’s just the way I’m made – but deep down I do love her, and I wanted us to make a go of things again.”

“You’ve a funny way of showing it,” Pauline told him. “And you know Aisling would never have done anything to hurt you.”

“Well,” Oliver said, “up until recently I might have agreed with you, but of course there’s been all the business with the American fellow. Don’t tell me you don’t know about that?”

“I do,” Pauline said brusquely, “and I don’t blame her one little bit.”

Oliver moved the car down the gears now, and then turned off the road down a bumpy little lane. A few moments later they came to a halt beside a small lake.

Without a word, Pauline got out of the car, and then went to the back passenger door and let Bernadette out.

“It’s the water!” the little girl said, jumping up and down clapping her hands. “It’s where all the – fishes live!”

Pauline pointed to a make-shift stone bench a little way off down towards the lake. “You can sit there for a few minutes like a good girl,” she told the child, “but don’t move unless I’m with you.”

When the child was scrambling over the rough grass and out of earshot, Pauline turned to her brother-in-law, her arms folded defensively. “I think it’s too late, Oliver,” she said. “I think you’ve burned your boats with Aisling this time. What you did to her was terrible – unforgivable – and you’re going to have to pay the price.”

“Christ Almighty!” Oliver hissed between clenched teeth. He walked a few feet ahead of Pauline, his hands jingling keys or loose coins in his pocket, and stared down towards the lake. “If that Jacinta hadn’t turned up and caused all this fucking trouble, we might have just sorted things out once and for all. I’m sure Aisling was coming round to the adoption thing – and the business with the American was more or less over.” He turned to Pauline. “Did she tell you he’s back with his wife? That the wife sent her a letter?”

“She told me
everything
,” Pauline said flatly, “but I wouldn’t be too quick to believe that one – the wife. She sounds capable of saying anything.”

Oliver whirled around. “Do you think she might go back to him?”

“I hope with all my heart she does, Oliver.”

Oliver’s hands came up to cover his face. “What a mess . . . what a fucking, fucking mess!”

Pauline looked down at the stony ground. “You’ve brought it all on yourself – you pushed her too far.” She scuffed a small stone with the toe of her shoe. “She never deserved anything that happened to her, and it’s time she had a bit of happiness. She’s a good-looking girl, and she’s never looked better than since she came back from America.”

Oliver ran his hands through his tidy black hair, making little tufts stand on end. “What am I going to do now? We’ll have to sell up the house and everything – and can you imagine your mother and father’s faces when they find out? Your mother will have a heart attack. She won’t be able to handle us separating – she had pinned all her hopes on the adoption business.”

Pauline shrugged. “She’ll just have to get used to it . . . the same as the rest of us.”

Then Bernadette jumped off the bench and came running up the path towards them. “A swing!” she said to Oliver. “Give me a big swing, Uncle Oliver!”

Oliver did as the child asked, and spent a few moments swinging her
around and playing with her. After a while, when she went back running to the bench, he turned to Pauline with agonised eyes. “How have I managed to make such an arse of everything? How have I managed to ruin so many good people’s lives?”