Pack Up the Moon (31 page)

her dress. She laughed and Anne hugged me while dismissing my fears. I held her tight, comforted by her positive response.

How many books have Anne and Richard read on pregnancy

and how much effort is it taking them to get to a place Sean and I came to by accident?

“I’m so happy for you,” she said selflessly and when she pulled back she was smiling genuinely, but it was hard to ignore the tears forming in the corner of each eye.

Clo was jumping up and down. “I’m going to be an auntie!”

Anne and I dared not argue. We finished making ourselves up and headed for the party.

*

Sean and I were on the dance-floor swaying to one of

George Michael’s slow ones. He was holding me close and I could feel Anne’s stare burn through my back. She wanted me to admit I’d spilled the proverbial beans so that she

could hug him and drag me into a corner so that we could

talk about babies all night. I had begged them to keep their mouths shut. I knew this directive would be exceptionally difficult for Anne. Having said all that, Sean and I had agreed that we would tell our parents first and I had promised to

hold my tongue until then. Then again I had promised Anne that I’d tell him that I’d told them on the way down from the

rooms. It was getting a little complicated.

He going to kill inc.

So there we were, dancing at a wedding, ironically to George Michael. Sean smiled at me. I wondered how long his smile would last. I really needed to pee.

I’ll tell him after I pee.

Anne and Richard were now dancing beside us. She caught my eye and mouthed: “Tell him.” I wondered if my bladder would hold. “Spit it out,” she mumbled as they circled us. It was a lot of pressure on both bladder and mind. This song was like that New Year’s Eve cigarette — never-ending.

“Sean,” I said.

He bowed his ear to my mouth.

“I told Anne and Clo about the baby,” I whispered nervously.

He cautiously nodded his head.

“I know we said we’d wait but I’ve got the all clear and —” “I told Richard and Tom,” he sniffed, spinning me around.

I absorbed this information. “You asshole!”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“I was in bits. I thought that I’d broken this big pact.”

“Well, you did — it just so happens that so did I.”

He was grinning the way he did when he was pleased

with himself. And suddenly it was real. I was pregnant, two pairs of shoes for three people. Of course it had been real when I was puking, getting fat and crying for no reason, but now Clo and Anne knew so it was really real. I wasn’t crying but a tear managed to creep down my face

and drop to the floor.

“I’m really happy,” I told his feet.

He pulled my face up to meet his. “Me too.”

Our noses met and at such close proximity his eyes

appeared to dance. Of course it could have had something

to do with the strobe lighting. I gave Anne the thumbs-up and she and Richard descended, closely followed by the bride and groom. We were all hugging and kissing and patting each other on the back and my once broken

heart felt mended and full.

*

I recognised the garden bursting with exotic flowers

emitting from the green soft sand. The burning bush still glowed in the distance and, no longer unsure of where I was or what I was doing, I headed purposefully towards the purple sun dangling above a spidery tree. While climbing the hill I smoothed my skirt and fixed my hair, all the while my eyes fixed firmly upon the purple

spinning sun. The hill straightened out, as I approached the flowering tree on which the blue poppies danced on

cherry-pink branches. Once again an unseen mighty hand threw the purple sun my way. I bounced it and threw it back.

John caught it and smiled. “You’re back,” he said while throwing the sun over his shoulder.

We hugged.

“I needed to see you,” I said as though visiting the dead was normal.

“I’m intrigued.” He sat down under the tree and I joined him, squinting at the light show in the sky. “Clo got married today.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded.

“The 14th of July 1989 she swore she’d never marry,” he said.

“What’s your point?” I grinned.

“She owes me twenty quid.” He laughed and I gave him a dig.

“She’s really happy. Toni, that’s her husband. He’s a laugh. You would have liked him.”

“Good,” he said and I noticed he was sitting still and staring like Gandhi.

“I still love you,” I reminded him.

“You always will,” he reminded me. I wasn’t ready to tell him about the baby.

“So did you send me down the lane that night to get

my head kicked in?”

“I can’t take the credit for that, Xena.” He grinned. “But I bet it made good TV”

I gave him another dig. We sat in silence while I absorbed some courage.

“You were right,” I said, trying my best to have him face me.

“Oh yeah?” he said, seeming a million miles away.

“Last time, when you said I was falling in love. You were right.” The words out, I bowed my head, no longer wishing to see the colour of his eyes.

“I’m glad.”

“Glad,” I repeated, disgusted. “What kind of a word is ‘glad’?”

He wasn’t following.

“Glad is a Pollyanna word,” I said. “It’s a fifties R-rated movie word, isn’t it?”

“You want another word?” he asked, grinning.

“No, you’re alright,” I admitted, finished with my tiny tirade.

He loves you as much as I did,” he said, nodding to himself.

Wow! I thought. Of course he didn’t need me to fill him in. He’d known all along.

“So how much is that then?” I ventured but he just laughed me off.

“You want to walk?” he asked and a yellow pathway opened up in front of us.

“No,” I said. Even asleep and dreaming I was exhausted. had one more thing to say. “So there’s no need to tell you that I’m pregnant then?”

He shook his head. “No need at all.”

“So are you glad?” I asked in my best sarcastic voice. He nodded, laughing. “Very.”

Suddenly we were walking away from the tree and

upon the yellow path despite my weary legs.

“The Wizard of Oz,” I said, smiling at the yellow bricks beneath me and at the memory of Judy Garland in her

beautiful ruby slippers.

John stopped and looked at me seriously. “Do you want ruby slippers?” he asked like a father would of a spoilt child.

“No, it would be too much,” I whispered sheepishly. He was laughing again and seeing his wide smile and

big eyes reminded me of how we used to be.

Suddenly there was nothing but a doorway.

“Time for you to go,” he said and I panicked a little. “No,” I complained. “I just got here.”

But it was too late. I was awake in my own bed. Sean was passed out beside me with Leonard asleep curled

around his head.

Yellow brick road, I thought. Christ, who knew I was such a bloody sap?

*

We were to break the news to my parents the next day

and, although I was a grown woman in a strong relationship, I have to admit I was a little scared. After all there was the issue of marriage. Sean was great, mostly because he was now a resident of Cloud Nine and didn’t give a toss what

other mere earth-dwelling mortals thought of our

situation or indeed us. He was going to be a dad and already he had decided that he was going to be the best

dad in the world. We were in the car driving towards my parents’ house and I was biting my nails.

“Stop biting your nails,” he said without taking his eyes from the road.

“I’m not,” I denied.

“It’s going to be fine. I bet your dad cries.” He grinned. “I hope not,” I said, playing with my hands.

“I bet it’s a girl,” he said, turning the corner onto our road.

I smiled and then I saw our house and I felt sick. He passed me the sick bag.

“Thanks,” I managed, grey and attempting to imbue myself with a sense of steely determination. It wasn’t working.

He parked the car outside the house.

“Are you ready?” he smiled, seeming bizarrely excited. “No,” I said, getting out.

“Right then.”

I rang the doorbell, forgetting I had a key My mother

answered the door, instantly recognising I hadn’t used my key and worrying about the implications.

“Hi,” I said as breezily as the situation would allow. “Hi, yourself.” She eyed us suspiciously

Sean waved from behind me, grinning like a clown on acid.

“What?” she said, still holding the door.

“Can we come in?” Sean’s voice asked from behind me.

She let us in. We followed her to the kitchen. “OK,” she announced.

“I’m pregnant.” I smiled hopefully not wishing to drag the matter out. She sat down and remained silent. Oh crap, we’re for it!

“Are you OK?” Sean asked her, while automatically reaching for a glass of water.

She lifted her head and she was smiling.

“Well, I would have liked a wedding first but then again your brother did give himself to God so I suppose

it all balances up.”

“So you’re OK with this?”

“I’m fine with it,” she said, taking me in her arms before crying. My father reacted pretty much the same way, although Sean lost ten quid because he didn’t actually cry.

*

Sean’s own father was a breeze. He was an easygoing man. I suppose he had to be — his wife had walked out on him when Sean was a kid and he was left to bring up Sean and

his younger brother James. He was proud and he shared a cigar with his first-born.

“I knew you had it in you, son,” he said proudly.

I rang Noel. He was in New York completing some sort of aid-worker induction course. Sean insisted upon being put on speakerphone.

“So when are you two going to tie the knot?” Noel asked after the preliminary congratulating was completed. I hadn’t thought about it.

“Whenever,” Sean piped up.

“Whenever?” Noel questioned.

I remained silent, as we had never discussed marriage. “OK,” Noel said thoughtfully. “But you are going to get married, right?”

“Of course,” Sean said breezily.

I smiled.

Oh, OK. Baby, marriage, this is fine. I’m not having difficulty breathing. Groovy.

Noel was excited and already making plans for the

service.

“I could be anywhere in the world,” he said. “But I’ll be back. You just give me a date and I’ll be there,” he promised.

*

Yeah, it was all great back then of course — that’s before I got really heavy and swollen. Later, Sean and I lay in bed daydreaming about what our child would look like and

thinking up exotic and pretty, but rubbish, names. We laughed and he stroked my tummy, which was really beginning to thicken, reminding me of a rotund basketball player in third year who had attempted to bully

me once. Clo had drop-kicked her and she steered clear

after that. I smiled while I lay there wondering if she’d ever lost the puppy fat that I was now gaining.

*

Two months later I was very fat and my clothes were

straining under the pressure. Clo and Anne took me shopping for maternity wear. We went from shop to shop to shop and through endless rails of sailor suits and flower

filled frilly dresses that emphasised every lump and growing

bump. I was sinking into a depression and, although Anne remained upbeat, Clo was sharing my devastation.

“I’m never getting pregnant,” she muttered when I exited the dressing-room in a fuchsia-pink top and

trousers that were tight up top yet ballooned around the

thighs.

“You look fine,” Anne said while attempting to give Clo a furtive dirty look.

I was beside myself. “I’m ugly, ugly, ugly,” I repeated, returning to the dressing-room to strip off the vile

concoction. It seemed to take me forever to find the strength to remove the garment. I was so tired all the time. I’d expected pregnancy to be difficult but this kind of exhaustion was beyond my wildest expectations.

“Are you OK?” came Clodagh’s query but it was her knocking that woke me.

“I’m fine,” I said, struggling to come to terms with how I managed to fall asleep with one arm out of the

God-awful fuchsia-pink top and one arm in.

Later in the coffee shop Clodagh was rambling on

about the state of maternity fashion and daydreaming

about designing some functional yet attractive clothing,

despite not having a clue about it. I looked at Anne and smiled, always conscious that my growing stomach was a constant reminder of her failure to get pregnant.

“Are you OK?”

She nodded. “I’m fine, Em. Actually I have some news of my own!’

I braced myself. I hated when people had news as it usually meant change and that usually upset me. Clodagh was all ears.

“Richard and I are going for IVF,” she said.

“IVF?” Clodagh repeated, unsure.

“His sperm count is low. It looks like we’ll never get pregnant the obvious way, so instead we’re going for insemination.”

My face fell.

Clodagh leaned in. “Are we talking about a test tube?” she asked conspiratorially.

Anne sighed. “No!’

“What then?” Clo asked fascinated.

“Richard provides a sperm sample and if it’s good

quality the doctor inserts it through some sort of catheter. It’s not sore or anything, maybe a little uncomfortable.”

“Wow. How long before you know if it’s taken?” I asked.

“The same amount of time as it takes anyone else. I miss a period — I take a test.”

“Exciting,” Clo said. “Just think this time next year you both could be mothers.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not counting my chickens yet. It might not work!’

“Don’t be so negative. You’ve got to be positive to be positive,” Clo said laughing at herself

“You really are a bloody moron,” Anne laughed. “Seriously, what are your chances?” Clo asked.