you if I need you. I’m going to relax on the sofa and get lost in Netflix.’
‘Well, if it’s okay with you, I’ll go in for the one, catch up with the lads.’ He pulls his jacket on and checks there’s money in his wallet. As if.
‘Just one favour,’ I say.
Conor lifts his head, eyes fixed, like I’m about to make him pay.
‘Make sure your mother doesn’t know you’ve gone out or she’ll call here to check up on me.’
He laughs, holding his finger over his closed lips as he mumbles, ‘Not a word.’
* * *
Conor’s only been gone ten minutes when Shay decides to exercise his lungs again. I’m rocking him from side to side, holding him up, holding him down, into the sunlight, out of the sunlight. When is he going to stop? I check his nappy, nothing. Try him with a bottle, he just spits it out. God, what does he want? Is he missing his daddy?
Not one of the four million soft toys he was given are of any interest to him. He just wants to scream. I’ll never get to search for the card at this rate.
I put Shay back in the crib, where he continues to cry. Patting his head, I tell him I’ll be back in a minute, we’re going for a walk.
It takes a bit of pulling and tugging but eventually I get the buggy open. The doors are so wide in this house I could get a bus through them. The kitchen itself is huge; the actual cooking area only takes up a quarter of the room. There’s also a dining area, two sofas, two armchairs, a TV and now a baby area. The utility room is off to the left with its own toilet and shower. If there was a bed in here there’d be no need to leave.
‘Mammy’s coming, and look what she has for you! Woooo,’ I swerve the buggy over to the crib and put it into a lying down position.
Putting two blankets into it, I lift Shay out of the crib and gently place him on top of the blankets. He quietens immediately. The silence is bliss.
Without a word, I slowly begin to move the buggy around the room. Still nothing. I look up at the ceiling and mouth, ‘Thank you.’ Then, after pushing the buggy twice around the expansive kitchen, I drive it out to the hallway, lean over the handle and whisper to my little boy. ‘Mammy’s going to bring Shay on an adventure. We’re going to find some treasure.’ He’s still awake but I can see his eyes are flickering closed.
The front room is colder than the rest of the house. A mesh of greys, purples and greens. Expensive furniture sitting on classic rugs. If I’d been living here when all the decorating was going on, I might have done things differently. But I’m not complaining. Not at all. It’s a castle. I’m like a princess who has met her prince and will now live happily ever after in the back-ass of nowhere.
The bookshelves are straight in front of me. All the classics in alphabetical order. I doubt Conor ever read any of these books. The only book I’ve seen in his hand is a cheque book. Maybe I’ll read them. Lie on the sofa amongst the greys and purples and greens, Shay resting in my arms, as I turn the pages of someone else’s life.
Shay appears to be asleep now. Slowly, I move my hands from the handlebar and step backwards, holding my breath. After about thirty seconds, I believe my luck and walk over to the bookshelf. I need to find that card. The thought of someone having taken it scares me. Makes me feel even more vulnerable.
* * *
Well, there is definitely nothing obvious to see. No pink envelope sticking out from anywhere. Could I have stuck it inside one of the books?
One, two, three, I flick and flick and flick, remembering to replace every book where I found it. Not that Conor would notice but someone else might. His mother, for instance. She seems to have a photographic memory of where everything was before I came into the house. When I rearranged the kitchen presses she noticed straight away.
I’m on the second row and feeling like this is a waste of time when Shay starts crying again. He’s probably hungry now. Placing the book that I’m holding on to the floor, I rush over to my little boy, brush