Despite the Angels - By Madeline A Stringer Page 0,41
stuffed into his luggage, while he hoped the Customs would not search him and ask embarrassing questions about how many could be for ‘personal use’. They had run the gauntlet safely, he had ignored Kathleen’s suggestion to ‘throw them away, we won’t be needing them’; and they were now waiting to be unpacked into a safe place in the bedroom, tucked away with his hopes. He noticed his father-in-law was speaking.
“Is she depressed? I hear it can happen after a baby.”
“I don’t know. I’ll get her to go to the doctor and see. But she seemed all right on the Friday. No problems at all.”
“She’s not really depressed, David. Nothing that medicines will fix. It’s soul deep. But you work on it from your end, and Haliken will do what he can. He needs to find something to fill the void for her. Don’t you start trying. Your responsibility is to the babies. And eventually to the baby you and Lucy will have, whenever we can get this mess sorted out.”
“It’s a mess,” David said without thinking.
“What do you mean?” asked Mrs Kearney sharply.
“Uh, Kay being unwell and me with exams coming up.”
“But surely you can do the exams again? The babies will only be babies for the one year. They should come first.”
“Oh, they do. But I can’t afford to repeat a year. I’d have to pay for it and a repeat looks bad on your C.V. I have to finish this time.”
“Lot of nonsense, all this book learning,” Kathleen’s father leant back comfortably in his chair and lit his pipe. “I never went to any college, particularly not that Trinity and I got on well. Paid for all this,” he waved the stem of his pipe at the ceiling.
“Yes.” David stood up. “I’d better get going, see how she is. Come on girls!” He turned the pram around and headed out into the dank evening. Kathleen’s mother came running out of the kitchen with a little parcel in tinfoil which she tucked into the pram.
“Cake, for Kath. Cheer her up. Bye now. Bye little darlings, be good girls.” She kissed the babies and went back in to the warmth.
Chapter 16
Dublin 1976
David brought his coffee out to the back step and sat down carefully, lifting his face to the low rays of the dying sun. He rested his head back against the wall and allowed the warm light to wash over him, as he took a huge breath and let it out in a rush. He imagined all the bad stale thoughts he’d been having all day rushing out and smiled slightly as he thought of the effect on his struggling garden. Maybe he would wilt the purple sprouting broccoli. A little hand stroked his face.
“Why you sad, Daddy? Why you smile and being sad?” Clare was trying now to climb onto his lap.
“Because life is very confusing, poppet.” David put his mug down and lifted her up, so that her dark curls were just under his chin and he could see grubby hands playing with his collar. Clare grinned up at him.
“Am I ’fusing too, Daddy?”
“No, you are probably the only thing that is straightforward. You and Caroline. You keep me balanced.” It’s true, he thought, if it wasn’t for the girls I’d be totally at sea. Though Kath would be happier. He stopped, his mind freezing over under the onslaught of the idea that had just surfaced. No, that can’t be true. How could she, she wanted a baby so much. She would miss them, she’d have to be mad not to. But in behind all these thoughts that he was desperately reciting like a mantra, was a bigger thought that might never go away, now that he had allowed it in. Kathleen would be happier without the girls. Oh no, he thought, oh no. Are they in danger? Surely not. Surely Kath wouldn’t do anything to harm them?
“Daddy, you’re squishing me!” Clare was pushing at his arms with her pudgy fists, her little face getting flushed. David opened his arms and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m sorry, Clare. I didn’t mean to squish you. I just had a confusing thought again.” Clare nodded solemnly.
“You forgot me. Mummy forgets too. Is Mummy ’fused?”
“Yes, I think sometimes Mummy is very confused. I think maybe all the grown ups are. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Listen.”
David waited, expecting a bird to sing, or Caroline to come singing through the house, but there was nothing.