‘Paddy? What—’
Tina took a step forward. ‘He found me in the pub.’
Cillian’s face darkened, and he turned to continue on his way.
‘Cillian, stop! I didn’t drink.’ Something in her voice sounded different this time, sincere. Desperate even. ‘Paddy saw me sat with a vodka. I didn’t drink it, but I wanted to. I need help, Cillian. I can’t do it by myself anymore. He told me about today, and I wanted to come.’
The top of the receptionist’s black hair was positively twitching now as she tried to make herself fully invisible.
‘I’m glad you’re getting help, T, I really am, but this is about Orla. And me.’
‘I know, and Paddy has told me you’ve moved on.’ Cillian frowned at Paddy, but he just winked at him. ‘I’m glad for you.’ She looked so beaten down, Cillian found his shock and anger subsiding a little. Maybe the social media stuff she posted was just a brave face. It’s not like people didn’t lie on there, to themselves. He thought of April then, and her fear of going online. Trial by keyboard warriors.
‘I just want to make this right. I want to be right – the guilt is crippling me. I know she’s better off with you. I came here to say that. I won’t cause a scene anymore.’
‘No, she won’t,’ Paddy said, shooting her a friendly glance that told her she was on thin ice with him too. Paddy was a big man with a big heart, and Orla was as close a niece to him as his own flesh and blood. ‘Come on, mate, what’s the harm? If it goes bad in there, we can do your plan.’
He had been thinking similarly himself, if he admitted it. No matter what struggles Tina had had, she wasn’t the person she used to be, and he had to admit that to himself. He sure wasn’t. Less than a month with April in his life had changed him again, and he knew what she would say. She’d asked that question, and it had rattled around in his brain ever since.
Does Orla want her mother in her life? Tina was getting help and doing well. One day, when she was grown, she would understand that parents are people with addictions, and problems, and flaws. He knew then what his decision was. He wanted to be able to look an adult Orla in the eye, and tell her he did everything he could to be a good father. That included looking after her mother too.
‘And the nursery visit?’
Tina’s head snapped down to the floor, and he saw how ashamed she was now. Maybe she really was trying. He thought of Orla, and that strengthened his resolve. He looked down the corridor at the waiting door and turned back to the mother of his child.
‘I’ll give it a shot, but the turning up drunk stops now. Tina, you understand me? We go in there, and we make a plan for Orla. No more fighting. Last chance.’
Paddy was stood at Tina’s side, smiling and nodding at him as he spoke. Cillian narrowed his eyes at him for interfering, but Paddy just laughed. He knew he would be getting a pint when this was all resolved, and Cillian had calmed down his bullish ways and realised how he was trying to help.
‘We good? Want me to wait?’ he asked his Irish buddy. Cillian walked back across to him and shook his hand.
‘I’ll take her back there, thanks, mate.’ Paddy didn’t wait. He stepped forward and wrapped his massive arms around his best friend.
‘Good luck, pal,’ he said earnestly. Paddy loved Orla to bits, had since the day she was born and he came to hold her in the hospital. Another man who couldn’t forgive himself for not being there when things went bad. ‘Do it for our girl, eh?’
The two men hugged each other tight, slapping each other on the back and grunting at each other at the end, while they turned away and wiped the tears from their eyes. Paddy gave a nod to Tina, who smiled at him weakly, and he was gone. Leaving them with silence and the twitching top of the receptionist’s head.
‘Shall we?’ Cillian asked. ‘Let’s go make a plan for Orla.’
Tina, a tear spilling down her cheek as she looked back at the man who was caring for their daughter, uttered the word ‘yes’ and reached out her hand.
***
After the troll debacle, April had run an errand and then kept herself scarce. Martha had been in her chalet all day; Cillian had returned to work in the laundry room, staying out of her way till it was time to knock off and pick Orla up. She’d heard his van come back, but she had been busy making sure everything was finished. She had even put an advert in the local shop window in town looking for a receptionist to start immediately, with the park’s details on it.
She’d also splashed out on another mobile phone, complete with new number. It still sat in the box. The bloke had set it all up for her, but she’d made him turn it off before she’d left the shop.
When she thought of the sonogram on Duncan’s #smuggit post, she felt sick to her stomach. Duncan’s fiancée had probably been pregnant at the baby shower, and that made her humiliation complete. How could Duncan have done that? Every so often, April had waited back home, wondering when, even if, Duncan would notice how upset she was, how lost she felt. She’d told him the best she could, but he wasn’t there for her. To Duncan, it was a complication. An annoyance, if anything. When he spoke of children, and what them having a child could mean, it was always in terms of family events at work, or what clubs they could join together, which private school he would send their small charges to. Whenever April thought of their child, she
