Erin Kaye - THE PROMISE OF HAPPINESS

‘You haven’t had to. No one’s ever accused you of being selfish just because you’re a mother, Joanne,’ said Louise, effectively bringing to an end this particular thread of the conversation.

She turned her gaze, softened now, to Sian. ‘All I’m saying is don’t make any hasty decisions, Sian, and don’t leave it too late either. You might regret it.’

Sian sighed and tried to smile. The decision was far from a hasty one. In fact she was quite sure that she’d put more thought into the implications of not having a child than Joanne ever put into having hers – and at least as much as Louise. She’d come to terms with the idea that she would never be a mother and she was certain that her decision was the right one for her – and Andy. It frustrated her no end that her sisters treated her like she didn’t know her own mind. In fact, while paying lip-service to the idea of sustainable living, they treated everything she felt passionate about as though it was all some big joke. Just like they’d always done. Perhaps it was time to prove to them that she was serious.

She had tried to get her doctor to sterilise her when she was in her early twenties and again when she was thirty, but he had refused. But she was older now and about to be married to a man who felt the same as she did about having children. No doctor would refuse her now, surely?

‘Right! Time out!’ called Andy and he formed his hands, like a basketball coach, into the internationally recognised ‘t’ signal. He loped across the grass towards the women in a few athletic strides, his face beaming. He came to a halt in front of Sian and ran his hand through his hair. ‘That lot are absolutely crazy,’ he said rubbing his right elbow, and then the small of his back. There were smears of mud and grass down the front of his T-shirt. Sian put out a hand and touched his arm, muscled and brown where it appeared beneath his short sleeve. ‘I feel like I’ve just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson,’ he went on.

Joanne laughed heartily. ‘You look like you have too! But I bet ten rounds with Tyson would be a walk in the park compared to wrestling three hyper kids!’ Everyone laughed and she added, ‘You look like you could use a beer.’

‘Please,’ he gasped, resting his hands on his thighs.

‘I’ll get it. Here, give me your glass too, Sian, and I’ll top it up when I’m in the kitchen.’ Joanne picked up the empty wine bottle and tucked it under her arm.

Sian finished what was left in the bottom of the glass and handed it over. ‘Thanks.’

Just then Heidi, a flash of black, streaked across the grass and ran three times around the garden barking manically, her tail wagging.

‘For heaven’s sake! Somebody’s let her out of the utility room!’ cried Joanne and she marched off into the house mumbling to herself. A moment later she appeared on the kitchen doorstep, waving a piece of beef jerky, Heidi’s favourite snack, in her hand. She called Heidi’s name and the dog raced over, gulped down the treat and disappeared inside the house. The door slammed shut behind her.

‘I wonder if Joanne has any idea what her family’s carbon footprint is,’ observed Sian.

‘What?’ said Louise.

‘I was thinking about the dog. Recent research estimates that the ecological impact of a large one like Heidi is the same as driving a 4.6-litre four-wheel-drive vehicle twelve-thousand miles a year.’

Louise filled her cheeks with air and blew out noisily. ‘I’m sure Joanne’s not given it much thought, Sian. She seems to have other things on her mind lately.’

‘It’s up to Joanne how she lives her life, Sian,’ interjected Andy with a gentle smile. He grinned at Louise and said, ‘Who knows, if we set a good enough example, some of it might rub off on others.’

Louise smiled and looked out across the grass at Oli, who was now happily playing chase with Abbey, their shrieks of laughter filling the air like sirens. ‘Oli seems to be enjoying himself.’

‘He’s a natural with the ball,’ said Andy and gave Sian a wink. She grinned back, marvelling at the fact that she had found him, that he was hers. ‘He’ll be keeping you in your old age, Louise.’

Louise, straight-faced, glanced across at Oli once more and said anxiously, ‘I saw a poster at the library for a class called Enjoy-a-Ball. They teach basic ball handling skills to young children. Do you think I should sign him up for that?’ She frowned and shook her head, clearly annoyed with herself. ‘Why didn’t I think of that before?’

Andy threw his head back and laughed, his Adam’s apple like a knot in a rope. ‘There’s plenty of time for that sort of thing when he’s older, Louise. He’s still a baby. Anyway, kids come to things when they’re ready. You can’t force it.’

Louise smiled tightly. ‘I guess you’re, right. I just want to do what’s right, you know. What’s best for Oli.’

‘Well by the looks of it you’re doing a grand job, Louise,’ said Andy kindly and Louise visibly relaxed.

‘Do you think so?’

‘You’re giving him the best start in life,’ said Sian, seeing suddenly how much her sister needed reassurance. ‘Not many people have the luxury of being a full-time mum, especially single ones.’ Sian’s gaze was drawn momentarily to Gemma who was standing on the far side of the garden with a plate in one hand and a fork in the other, talking to her eldest child. She’d gone back to work as a legal secretary soon after her marriage broke up and her son was only four – a tough decision, Joanne had told her at the time, motivated by necessity rather than choice.

Louise cleared her throat, drawing Sian’s attention, and let out a long heartfelt sigh. ‘That might have to change,’ she said flatly, toying with a lock of fair hair by her left ear, the way she used to as a child when she was bothered by something.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I’m going to have to return to work sooner than I’d planned.’

‘But I thought you said you wouldn’t go back to work until Oli went to school.’

Louise looked at the ground and bit her lip. ‘That was the plan, but I’m not sure I can afford to now. I put cash away for the first three years and the plan after that was to cash in shares. But they’ve fallen so much, I’m not sure that’s a sensible thing to do right now. I’d be better off waiting until they recover some of their value, otherwise I’ll be eating into Oli’s university fund. I still have to sell the Edinburgh flat and buy a place here and that’ll involve legal fees and stamp duty.’ She shook her head resignedly. ‘I can’t see any way round it. I think I’m going to have to go out to work and full-time at that.’

Sian, surprised by this news, was momentarily at a loss for words. Louise had prepared so carefully for Oli’s birth and childhood, both practically and financially. Being at home for him, in his early years at least, had been one of the cornerstones of her dream. It was disconcerting to hear that these plans had gone awry. Sian glanced across the garden at Oli, now sitting on the grass making daisy chains under the guidance of Abbey. He would have to go into full-time childcare of some sort – a very different proposition from the one morning a week he’d done in Edinburgh and the very last thing Louise had wanted for her son.

‘Would you be looking for something in your old line of work?’ said Andy, breaking the silence.

Louise’s last job – before she’d resigned six weeks before Oli was born – had been as Tourism Marketing Director for Historic Scotland with responsibility for Edinburgh Castle, the city’s most visited tourist attraction.

Louise scratched her head. ‘Ideally, but realistically, I might have to cast my net a bit wider. There aren’t many senior jobs in tourism marketing in Northern Ireland and with this recession I doubt if there’ll be much recruiting in the field at the moment.’