tiny ribbon of silk edges the neck and arms. It’s exactly what I’m looking for. I’m giddy with delight.
I look around to see if I can catch Amanda before she leaves, but it’s too late. She’s gone.
‘It’s perfect,’ I say, a wave of happiness surging through my body. Taking the gown from the man’s hands, I inspect every swirl of thread.
‘Look,’ I say, holding it over Shay who’s staring up at me from the comfort of his buggy. ‘Look what Mammy got you! You’re going to look so precious, little man.’
For the second time today, I’m excited. When I woke up this morning I couldn’t wait to get to Imanage. To see my old colleagues. To show off Shay and have lunch with Amanda. I was looking forward to my trip down memory lane.
My conversation with Rose had put a hasty end to my indulgent glee but now it’s back. With the bag holding the gown safely tucked into the end of the buggy, I make my way back to the car park, happy my visit to the city was not a total disaster.
I may not have gotten myself a new outfit for the christening, but I got Shay’s and that’s the important thing. And I’m grateful for that. Grateful for everything I have in my new world. I never dreamt I could be this lucky… after what happened. I’m going to enjoy every moment while it lasts because if someone does discover what happened, my new world will quickly disappear.
Shay is safely strapped into his seat and I’m about to strap on my own seat belt when I remember. Maggie. The picture jumps into my mind out of nowhere. It’s like I’m not meant to have a moment’s peace. The graveyard. Maggie handing an envelope to Vicky Murphy.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The drive home is a mixture of satisfaction and confusion. If Vicky Murphy is the girl who called in to Imanage asking about me, did Maggie send her? But why? Something would have had to trigger that sort of action. But what? Nobody in Ballycall knows about my past. Not even Conor. Unless she wanted to find out why my mother wasn’t showing her face around the place.
The first time I met Maggie, I told her I didn’t speak to my mother. She didn’t question me as to why, and when I told her she wouldn’t be coming to the wedding, she just ran a pencil through the seat allocated for her on the seating chart and said nothing else about it. Which surprised me. Why didn’t she ask me why I didn’t talk to my mother? If she had asked me I would have told her the same thing I told Conor. We fell out over some inheritance my father had left me. I know it was a lie; I’m not proud of it. Especially because it makes my mother look like the bad person. But I could not tell the truth.
The evening shadows drift in and out of the car as I drive through the village of Ballycall. Arriving at the gates of our house, I feel my anxiety levels rise. I’m almost expecting to see a cop car parked outside. The driveway is empty. Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to relax. Don’t always be expecting the worst. Lifting my son out of the car, I go into the house.
‘Well, what did you think of your trip to Dublin, Shay?’ I find myself talking to Shay a lot. Does that make me a bit mad or sad? Or is it just what mammies do? He seems to like it. His whole body wiggles with the attention.
‘You were the best boy today, Shay. Mammy loves you sooooo much.’
I lean over and kiss his face, inhaling his addictive scent. I can’t wait for him to answer me. To tell me he loves me. I wonder what his first word will be. Mamma? Dadda? I’ll be happy with either just so long as it’s not Nana.
Speaking of Nana, I feel like she has a camera on me. I’ve just about settled Shay into his crib when my phone beeps. She’ll be wanting to know where I was and why. Well she can wait. First things first.
The photo of Vicky Murphy is in the drawer where I left it. With my phone hovering above it, I take the best shot I can and forward it to Rose.