teased my senses, and I realised that I had yet to see her eat.
I looked around the room, which was as shiny as a new pin. All of this, just for the three of them. Four. I corrected my thoughts. Soon my baby would have a lifestyle others could only fantasise about. Sheridan’s presence felt like a dream and I was sure I would wake up any moment with Dympna shoving a mug of tea under my nose. It was inconceivable to think that I had started off by subscribing to a website and ended up in the home of Daniel Watson and Sheridan Sinclair. The only way I could cope with it was to place all my focus on my unborn child. Not an hour of the day passed when she wasn’t in my thoughts.
‘I grew up in a sleepy town in Ireland,’ I said eventually. ‘My dad ran out on us when I was very young.’ I swallowed my muesli, which now tasted like sand in my mouth. I hated talking about my past, but I did not want Sheridan to think I had something to hide. ‘We were dirt-poor. I didn’t know it back then, but my mother had issues with alcohol. She struggled with basic things and I was left on my own a lot while she went to work. It was tough.’
‘You poor thing,’ Sheridan said, her eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.
I responded with a watery smile. We were poles apart. How could she possibly understand? I shovelled in another mouthful of cereal.
‘I wasn’t short of money.’ Sheridan picked up the reins. ‘But my childhood was far from normal. I was earning a wage at the age of six. My mom was wildly ambitious. My dad had early-onset Alzheimer’s. He died when I was eighteen.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. I thought your dad was the man in the show,’ I said, after clearing my bowl. Regardless, my childhood self would have swapped places with her in a heartbeat. I would have lived my life in a shop window display if it had meant I had somewhere warm and secure to grow up, with food on the table and a clean bed at night.
‘It’s a common misconception,’ Sheridan replied. ‘Work featured in my life from a very early age, so sometimes even I got confused. I was educated from home and I didn’t have time to make friends or develop relationships naturally. My friends were made on set; they auditioned for the part. It came as a shock when I hit my teens and the show ended. My real dad died and, well, Mom lost interest after that. I had to make my way in the real world by myself.’
I tried to imagine what it was like for Sheridan, going from everything to nothing at such a young age. ‘I can’t imagine it was easy working in the movie industry, especially with everything you hear about the “me too” movement.’
Sheridan arched an eyebrow. ‘I could tell you a story or two. But I don’t want to dwell on negativity, not when we have so much to look forward to. Tell me about the night you conceived. I want to hear how my baby was made.’
I baulked. How her baby was made? That question was even more intrusive than the one about my childhood. From what I was learning about Sheridan, she had no inner filter when it came to other people. Was it down to her upbringing, or did she see me as someone she had hired, just like the staff who cooked and cleaned for her? I looked around the kitchen for Juanita. She’d seemed to vacate the room the moment we stepped in. There was no sign of Anna or Leo, either. He must have gone to school.
‘I don’t like to talk about it,’ I said, feeling the heat of Sheridan’s gaze. ‘Do you mind?’
Sheridan sipped her coffee, then gracefully placed the cup back on the gold-rimmed saucer. It was most likely designer, like everything else in this place. I thought of our chipped crockery in Ireland, of the ashtray I put my trinkets into. I’d barely arrived in New York and was already feeling the tug of home.
‘You weren’t in love?’ Sheridan interrupted my thoughts, not one to let the subject lie.
I shook my head. ‘Does it make a difference?’
She passed me the kale juice I had yet to drink. ‘Of course not. If it did, I’d have asked before