Are You Ready? (22 page)

Sarah was glad things were going well for Hugh: he was a good man and deserved to do well. They had only been together a short while, but it felt like years, he was so calm and laid-back. And their relationship was effortless: there was no hassle, no mind games, just a proper grown-up rapport. As Sarah and Hugh chatted about summer plans and some up-and-coming art exhibitions that Sarah's gallery was having, and that Hugh thought might be interesting, Fiona gurgled away. She was happy just basking in the sunshine and enjoying the attention that Hugh gave her. Hugh devoured the lunch and after her long walk Sarah herself really enjoyed the mushroom quiche and fresh bread. As they ate Sarah couldn't help observing how the three of them looked
like the perfect family, and she began to fantasize again about herself and Hugh's own children. I'm such a girl, she thought, dreaming about children, when we haven't even been on a holiday or moved in together yet! As she listened to Hugh talk about some new film he wanted to see Sarah could smell something bad. It was awful, and Hugh must have noticed it, too.

‘I think Fiona might need a nappy change,' Hugh laughed.

Sarah picked her niece up.

‘God, I only changed her before you came, but I suppose Mel did mention her stomach was acting up a little. But don't worry, you finish your lunch and I'll change her inside.'

Hugh stood up.

‘No, Sarah, you organized this beautiful lunch, I'll change her. I've plenty of experience from my own nieces and nephews. You finish your lunch.'

Sarah smiled. Hugh was so sweet, and obviously trying to impress, and to be honest she was happy to let him change Fiona. It was so cute to see him pick her up and chat to her. Just as Sarah was showing Hugh into the living room where Mel had left all of Fiona's clothes and spare nappies, Sarah's mum walked in the door.

‘Oh, don't you make the perfect family picture,' she said as she laid down her handbag and went to give her grandchild a big kiss.

Sarah was mortified that her mum would say that out loud.

‘I thought you were out for the day, Mum?' Sarah half-shouted.

‘Oh I am, but I just wanted to pop home and grab my togs, as it's such a nice day myself and Mrs Flynn from next door thought we would ditch playing bridge and head to Greystones beach for the afternoon. Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair in a few minutes.'

While Hugh undressed the baby Sarah started to pick out a new outfit for her, as she had seemed a little hot in her other babygro. Sarah's mum was cooing over Fiona, and as Sarah looked over she heard a weird sound coming from Fiona's stomach. Hugh had taken Fiona's nappy off, and seemed to be leaning in to give her a kiss. Sarah stood up and was about to warn Hugh to be careful, when suddenly she heard the noise again. Before she could say anything Fiona's little plump bottom lined up perfectly with Hugh's mouth, and just as he went in for the kiss, Fiona's stomach gave an extra-loud rumble, and, as if in slow motion, baby poo flew out and landed all over Hugh's face.

Sarah dropped Fiona's clothes, and there was a dead silence. Sarah looked at her mum who was literally frozen. No one spoke until eventually Fiona started gurgling. She was the only person who found this funny. Sarah couldn't move, she was so mortified: how could baby Fiona do this to her? Surely Hugh would never set foot in this house again, or go near a baby, for the rest of his life. Hugh still hadn't moved, or said anything. He finally turned around, and as Sarah saw the full extent of what Fiona had done, she couldn't help giggling. Seeing Hugh covered in baby poo
was suddenly hilarious. She felt like she was in a Ben Stiller comedy film, it was so funny. But as she tried to stifle another giggle, and tears began to roll down her face, she could see Hugh was not finding it remotely amusing, although it was hard to read his face as it was covered in Fiona's waste.

Luckily, Sarah's mum seemed to know what to do. She almost carried the shell-shocked Hugh upstairs to show him where the shower and bathroom was. As she did so, Sarah picked up Fiona. She didn't know whether to shout at her or not. Could a baby understand what it had done? Probably not, she thought. Instead she changed Fiona and put her back into her pram. As she heard the shower start running, Sarah's mum appeared back in the kitchen.

‘I think I need a drink,' she said. ‘Do we have any wine left?'

‘Mum, it's two p.m.,' Sarah answered.

‘Sarah, my granddaughter has just pooed all over not only a guest, but your only potential husband. Things don't get much worse than that.'

Sarah said nothing, just uncorked a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. She couldn't help but replay the whole incident over and over in her mind, and every time she did the look on Hugh's face just kept making her laugh. She didn't mean it to, the whole thing was a disaster, but it was funny too. It really was.

Sarah's mum put down her wine glass.

‘Sarah, stop that. Do you want Hugh to never see you again? No matter how funny it might have been, that poor man is in shock. How could you knock his
confidence like that by laughing? I mean, he has to go back to work. Imagine going back to work after that! Not the best lunch break he has ever had, I imagine.' But even as she spoke, she herself started to giggle.

It set Sarah off, too, and before they knew it even Fiona had joined in, and all three of them were laughing and reliving the moment. Sarah never heard Hugh walk back into the room. He looked at her sternly.

‘I need to get my jacket, it is on the chair. I'd better go back to work.'

Sarah suddenly got serious, and as she showed Hugh out to the door, put her arm around him.

‘Hugh, I do not know what to say. I'm so sorry. How can I ever apologize enough for this awful explosion? I'm so sorry.'

Hugh looked at the ground and didn't say much. ‘It's not your fault,' he mumbled.

But Sarah could sense he half-blamed her for his fertilized face. After an awkward hug goodbye, he turned to her.

‘I meant to ask you if you wanted to go to Galway this weekend, to meet some of my family?'

Sarah wanted nothing more than to say yes – anything to please him after this afternoon's disaster – but instead had to turn him down.

‘Oh Hugh, I had today off because this weekend we've that new exhibition opening on Saturday and I need to work all weekend. I'm sorry, maybe we can go another weekend?'

Hugh looked even more deflated.

‘It's OK, forget it. Sure, I can talk to you at the weekend.' And with that, he was gone.

Sarah felt awful all evening, but when Mel arrived back from town and asked how her angel had been Sarah couldn't help but laugh as she told her the story. And before long they had both finished off the bottle of wine that her mum had opened, and were alternately laughing about the story and feeling horrified and embarrassed. When Sarah went to bed she felt terrible about Hugh, and texted him, asking if he would allow her to treat him to a fancy meal out on Saturday night. She didn't hear back from him for hours, and feared the worst, feared he would dump her, all because of her niece. But eventually he replied: ‘Will Fiona be there?'

Sarah laughed, he was obviously starting to see the funny side of things. She hit the reply button on her phone.

‘I promise you, you will never have to see Fiona again. It's just you and me.'

And luckily he replied saying he would love to go for dinner, but please could she never mention the incident ever again? Sarah promised she wouldn't. And as she nodded off she felt so relieved that he had been mature enough to let the whole disaster pass, and not let it ruin things. She swore to herself she would never bring it up again, or tell any of her friends, but just as she did, she heard her mum start laughing downstairs, and knew she must be remembering it. And before long Sarah was off laughing herself. She would never forget her day of babysitting.

Ali was wide awake and up and dressed by eight o'clock on Saturday morning. It was only a matter of weeks until the wedding, and she could no longer sleep from the stress of everything that had to be done. It was hard to get organized, as so many of her wedding suppliers were in Kilkenny. She just had to trust that her mum and dad were capable of dealing with the hands-on enquiries. She had a massive ‘to-do' list, which she now carried with her everywhere. At least the dress is organized, she thought to herself. The dress was the one thing that kept making her smile; she couldn't wait for Robin to see it. Although Robin himself was driving her half-mad: he just didn't seem to care enough about half the wedding decisions, and kept saying she was the boss and could decide. Ali thought this was a cop out, and knew he just didn't want to tear himself away from the TV or football. But today he had no choice, they had to go to town to book their honeymoon, and while they were in town they had to collect the invites from the printers. After that, they
were going to head to Molly's, where she would cook some sample dishes for them to choose between for the wedding. And after that they had to go to a few venues to check out different bands. It was going to be a busy day. And tomorrow she wanted to write and post all the wedding invites.

She turned to Robin and tried to wake him.

‘Get up, Robin, we've to get going.'

Robin looked half-dead.

‘What time is it?' he croaked.

‘Eight o'clock, so let's get going.'

‘Eight o'clock? Ali, are you mad? It's the one day of the week when we can lie in. Let's go back to sleep for two hours, and then I promise I'll be wide awake.'

Ali stood up and pulled off the duvet.

‘Get up, Robin,' she shouted.

That woke Robin, and as he stormed off into the bathroom, he mumbled to himself, ‘We should just have got married in a drive-through in Las Vegas.'

Ali didn't bother replying. Instead she picked up the holiday brochures that she had been thumbing through for weeks. They just couldn't decide where to go. Robin quite fancied Thailand, but Ali was nervous of all the drugs and tsunamis, and even though Robin had said she was mad, she didn't care, and instead was trying to push him into going to the Maldives.

They were outside the Tropical Places travel agency just as the shutter was coming up.

‘You two must be eager to get away,' laughed the travel agent. She unlocked the front door and showed them in.

Ali explained about their honeymoon, and when they wanted to go, and how they couldn't quite decide on their destination.

‘Don't worry, that is normal. Most people go on many holidays a year, and never give much thought to booking a trip, but the minute they have to book their honeymoon they freak out! I suppose it's the one holiday that must be perfect. But don't worry, we'll find you somewhere; and trust me, no matter where you go you will enjoy it. Everyone loves their honeymoon, it's the going back to normal life that makes them sad.'

Ali looked at Robin, and felt bad for shouting at him earlier. It was his wedding and honeymoon, too. She had to try to remember that, and remember the honeymoon would just be the two of them, and they had to pick somewhere they both dreamed of.

‘So let me know your thoughts,' the chatty agent said. And with that they spent a good half an hour going through the different options. It wasn't until the travel agent mentioned Hawaii that they both sat up and asked her to give them more details.

‘There are many islands within Hawaii, but having been there myself a few times, I would totally recommend Maui. It is the second largest of the islands, and not as built-up as the popular Oahu. Maui really is drop-dead beautiful: the beaches are white, and the sea is so warm. There are so many activities, too: snorkelling in the coral reef, surfing, kayaking, day adventure-trips to volcanos – and, of course, you can visit many of the other Hawaiian islands if you want.'

‘Tell us more,' Robin laughed.

‘Well, you fly into Kahului airport, and I would advise you to head to Ka'ananapali beach, near to the town of Lahina. As you travel this road the smell of pineapples fills the air, because they grow them over there. Lahina is a very laid-back town, but has plenty of restaurants and bars, and the Ka'ananapali beach area is where I'd recommend you stay. The whole island is amazing, and is full of things to do.'

As she showed Ali the brochures Ali just knew she wanted to go, Hawaii seemed so tropical and exciting. She turned to Robin, who squeezed her hand.

‘Let's go to Maui!' he said.

‘And, of course, you know the flights to Hawaii stop in either New York or Los Angeles. Would you like to stop off in either of those places? It won't change the cost of the flight. You will only have to pay for your hotel.'

Ali couldn't believe what the travel agent was saying. To be able to have a five-star beach holiday on a tropical island, and also get in some shopping in New York, followed by celebrity sightseeing in LA, would be a dream come true. There was no discussion, they were going, and so they booked the Waldorf Astoria in New York for two nights on the way over, and a hotel in LA for two nights on the way home from Hawaii. Signing the booking forms, Ali couldn't stop smiling. The honeymoon was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and as they thanked the travel agent and headed to Bewleys for some breakfast Robin gave her a kiss.

‘Hawaii, here we come!' he shouted.

After a full Irish breakfast and plenty of tea, Ali and Robin were fired up and ready to collect their wedding invites. As they walked along Abbey Street to the printers they couldn't stop talking about Hawaii.

‘It is going to be the best honeymoon ever,' Ali gushed.

Robin was delighted they had found somewhere they both liked and were excited about. He was picturing himself surfing on the beaches of Maui, when they found themselves outside the little printer's. The shop was busy with people collecting birthday, wedding and party invites. Eventually Ali and Robin's turn came, and the woman behind the desk handed them a large box. Ali ripped it open and was almost overwhelmed. The invitations were so beautiful. Sarah's artwork was a masterpiece. The printer had chosen paper that suited the design perfectly, and the gold-sheeted envelopes echoed the golden hair of the bride on the card.