"Here, give me her," said Helen, taking Kate from my arms.
"I won't fail," she continued.
"How do you know?"
"I just know," she assured me.
Oh God, to have had her confidence.
"So how's college?" I asked her, willing her to talk about Adam.
"Fine," she said, looking surprised by my interest.
207
She said nothing at all about Adam.
And really, I couldn't, just couldn't, ask.
Then I heard the phone ring.
The first time it had rung all day. I was off that bed and down those stairs like greased lightning. Thank God I hadn't asked Helen for Adam's number, I congratulated myself in relief. I would have given the game away entirely and now there was no need!
"Hello," I said, trying to sound pleasant and unneurotic and apologetic all at the same time.
Sorry, Adam, I'll never be mean to you again.
"Yes, hello, can I speak to Jack Walsh?" said a voice.
My first thought was why on earth did Adam want to talk to Dad.
But then I realized that it wasn't Adam at all on the phone.
The bastard!
How dare he!
Getting me to practically break my neck coming down those stairs only for him not to be him at all.
"Yes, hold on Mr. Brennan. I'll get him for you," I said.
And I trudged miserably back up the stairs.
A lot slower than I had come down.
I went back into Helen.
I was suitably humbled.
I still had every need of her.
She was playing with Kate and didn't see fit to comment on my death-de- fying flight down the stairs. That was one of the great things about being with someone as selfish as Helen. She so rarely took notice of anything that wasn't happening to her.
Just then Anna arrived, all flowing hair and traipsy skirt and vague ex- pression on her face.
I was delighted to see her. We hadn't crossed paths since sometime the previous week. She tramped across Helen's pink and fluffy bedroom in the boots that were breaking Mum's heart and sat down beside us on the bed.
Out of her bag (embroidered, covered in mirrors and beads) she took about a hundred bars of chocolate and proceeded to efficiently eat her way through them.
I've never seen anything quite like it.
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I could only assume that it was drug-related in some way. "Anna, do you have the...um...the munchies?" I asked, feeling like an old fuddy- duddy.
"Um," she said through a mouth that was crammed to capacity with chocolate.
"Gerumph!" She gesticulated angrily as Helen started ripping papers off the bars and practically inhaling them whole.
"Get your own, Helen," she finally managed, as her mouth was moment- arily empty.
"Just give me this Mars and a Milky Way and I won't take any more," said Helen.
Lying, of course.
Anna agreed.
Poor Anna.
I spent the rest of the evening thrown on Helen's bed, eating chocolate, half listening to the good-natured bickering between Helen and Anna, waiting for Adam to call.
But, guess what, he didn't.
It doesn't matter, I told myself, he didn't say he would call me. He's bound to call tomorrow. He'll definitely call in the next few days, I tried to comfort myself. It's obvious that he really likes you.
But underneath all my bravado I knew he wouldn't call.
I don't know how I knew, I just did.
Obviously my ability to sense approaching disaster had improved slightly since James left me.
The practice must have helped.
209
nineteen
The next morning the house was like Grand Central Station.
Helen was going to Belfast for two days on a college trip and obviously believed that her preparations should not only be a last-minute affair but should also be a family event.
Instead of being woken by Kate, I woke to the sound of stealthy rustling at the foot of my bed. Someone was in my room and up to no good. I sat up sleepily.
"Who's that?" I yawned.
It was Helen.
I might have known.
She was making for the door with an armful of my new clothes.
"Oh, Claire!" she said, jumping guiltily as she dropped one of my new boots on the floor. "I thought you were asleep."
"So I see," I said dryly. "Now put them back."
"Bitch," muttered Helen, throwing a big pile of my clothes onto the floor. They had obviously been Belfast-bound.
I'm sorry, boys, I told them. I'll take you another time.
I heard her go down to the kitchen and shortly afterward there was the inevitable outbreak of raised voices. What was it about her?
Kate was awake in her bassinet, just lying there looking at the ceiling.
"Why didn't you cry, darling?" I teased her gently. "Why didn't you wake me and tell me that nasty Auntie Helen was stealing my clothes?"
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I picked her up and took her into bed with me, holding her soft warm tiny little body in my arms.
We lay in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, half listening to the sounds of an argument in the kitchen. I really should get up, I thought. Maybe Helen will mention Adam before she leaves.
I just held Kate tighter. My precious beautiful child.
But then she started demanding to be fed so I got out of bed and quickly got dressed, tripping over the pile of clothes on the floor in the process. The two of us went downstairs.
Where a little dispute seemed to be in process.
Anna, Mum and Helen were sitting around the table surrounded by breakfast debris, Pop-Tarts and teapots and cereal boxes all over the place.
Mum and Helen were arguing loudly.
Anna was smiling beatifically and doing something peculiar with a daisy and a paper clip.
"I know nothing about any green scarf and gloves," Mum told Helen hotly.
"But I left them on top of the fridge," Helen protested. "So what did you do with them?"
"Well, if you'd put them in their proper place you'd know where to find them," Mum answered her.
"The top of the fridge is the proper place," Helen replied. "It's where I always leave my things."
"Morning," I said pleasantly.
They all completely ignored me.
For no obvious reason the back door was swinging open and blasts of Siberianesque morning air blew through the kitchen.
This was ridiculous. I had a small child on the premises.