things just seemed to move forward and I didn’t want to turn them back…’ Placing my hand on his leg, I squeeze it slightly. ‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw it in your file,’ he mutters in a low voice.
‘Nurse Elaine’s file?’
‘No, at the hospital, on the first visit. The nurse took you into a room to weigh you or something and she left the file on the chair. I read it, hoping to find out a bit more about the process. See if there was anything I could be helping you with. I thought it was a mistake. I took the file to the girl who was sitting at the reception desk in front of me and I asked her about something else written in there. Then I casually questioned the date of the first baby, pretending I thought the date was recorded wrong. She confirmed it. Laura Cummins had given birth to a baby boy on the nineteenth of April, six years earlier. So that’s how I found out, Laura. At the hospital, on our first visit.’
Conor sounds like he’s about to start crying.
‘But why didn’t you ask me about it?’ I say. I’m trying to make eye contact with him but he’s looking the other way.
‘I don’t know.’ His voice sounds confused. ‘I guess I knew it must have been hard for you to talk about, since you hadn’t told me yourself. I presumed you gave the child up for adoption. And I know what it feels like, being unable to share pain. Knowing no one else could truly understand what it feels like. How could they? It’s not their pain. I never told you about the accident in the brewery, how I was the one who caused my father’s death because knowing about it spoils everything. It darkens the room no matter how bright. I didn’t want that for us. You were the only person in my life who didn’t know about this darkness so it couldn’t win when I was with you. It was like it never happened and I wanted to keep it that way. So I understood why you said nothing about your baby.’
Moving closer to him, I put my arm around his shoulder and kiss his cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper in his ear. Conor moves his face close to mine and for a minute we linger, faces touching, saying nothing. I’m full and empty at the same time. Tears are flowing down my face.
A few minutes pass. Conor lifts his face, looks into my eyes and with both hands on either side of my head, he wipes my tears away with his thumbs. I am beyond lucky to love this man.
He takes his hands away from my face and pulls my body close to his on the sofa. With his arms wrapped around me, I snuggle close to him. I refuse to believe this man could have had anything to do with Vicky’s death. The stale smell of beer hangs in the air. My eyes shift to the window, to the dark sky pierced by one lonely star.
‘I’m sorry I’m making this all about me. It must have been awful for you, Laura, to lose your baby, I know how much you adore Shay. How wonderful a mother you are to him.’
My heart quickens. The calm I was feeling slips away. Please don’t ask, Conor. But he does.
‘How did the baby die?
Chapter Forty-Nine
Shay looks as happy as I am that the christening is over. He’s lying in my arms, fed, changed and safe. My head is still a bit fuzzy but all in all, I’d say I dodged a bullet. I expected the hangover to be a lot worse.
It was after three when Conor and I came to bed. We talked for a long time. If Shay hadn’t cried for his bottle, we would probably still be there. He told me how he walked onto the floor of the brewery that Friday evening listening to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers on his headphones. He noticed the lid on the beer vat open. Cursing the attendant for forgetting to close it, he wasn’t aware his father was inside fixing a valve. Conor went up the steel ladder attached to the vat and closed the lid. He locked the big steel handle. He still has nightmares of his father banging on the inside of the drum while ‘Under the Bridge’ was blasting in Conor’s ears. It took a lot of therapy and forgiveness