Secrets and Lies (8 page)

Kerry locked the front door behind her and walked the short distance across the garden to Maura's house. She pulled her jacket tightly around herself and battled against the strong winds which had suddenly risen overnight. The weather had t
aken an unexpected turn for the worse with typical late autumn weather of blustery showers one minute followed by beating sunshine the next. She unlatched the gate which connected the two gardens and made her way around to the back of her sister's house, making a mental note to send Des, their caretaker, around to mow her overgrown lawn, the next time he was home.

She tapped lightly on the glass sliding door. Sabre, Maura's huge German S
hepherd, came bounding up to greet her. He furiously wagged his tail as soon as he saw her. Kerry couldn't help grinning at his typically rambunctious, overly-affectionate reaction whenever he saw her or any member of the family. Maura followed close behind Sabre, still dressed in her pyjamas and slippers. “Hi sis, come on inside.” She yawned loudly and greeted her sister with a kiss on the cheek as she pulled open the heavy sliding door.

“I didn't wake you, did I?” Kerry asked in concern, noticing the pronounced dark circles under her sister's tired eyes.

“No, I just got up. I've been awake for ages. I didn't get much sleep last night. The kettle's boiling, do you fancy a coffee?”

“Yes, please, that'd be lovely.”

Maura pottered about in the kitchen for a few minutes, pouring coffee and sugar into their cups and preparing Sabre's breakfast while she waited for the kettle to boil.

“You look tired,” Kerry said thoughtfully, “another late night, I suppose?”

“I didn't get to bed until five o' clock this morning,” Maura replied ruefully. “My shift was supposed to finish at midnight but there was a terrible crash on the motorway; two cars in a head-on collision and the ensuing pile-up. Accident and Emergency needed all the help they could get. I was out the door at three o' clock but I was so wound up by the time I got home I just couldn't sleep.”

“Was anyone seriously injured?” Kerry asked, turning pale at the thought.

“The drivers have a few broken bones and some heavy concussion, but nothing too serious. They should be out again in a few weeks.”

“Thank goodness,” Kerry breathed. “It must be difficult to switch off som
etimes, especially with the the horrors you see.”

“I'm glad I'm still affected by it. Some of the other nurses have become too accustomed and hardened to even the worst injuries. I don't know how they do it; one minute they're tending to a very distressed patient and the next they're laughing and joking and discussing their plans for the weekend.”

“You always were a sensitive soul,” Kerry smiled sympathetically at her sister. “I don't know how you do it.”

“It can be tough at times, but I love what I do; it's more than a job for me and the
happy stories make it all worthwhile. I have my final midwifery exam next month and then I'll be working full-time in the maternity ward which will be wonderful. I'm really looking forward to moving on from Accident and Emergency; it's so stressful and I'm starting to feel burnt out from it. I've always wanted to specialise in midwifery and experience the happier side of nursing for a change.”

“I'm glad,” Kerry said.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping their coffee and gazing out the window at the rolling hills and lake in front of them.

Kerry studied her sister's face. She smiled to
herself, wondering if two sisters had ever looked less alike. Maura was tall and bodacious, standing almost six feet in her bare feet. She had wild blonde curly hair which tumbled around her face and hung almost to her waist. She generally wore it scraped back into a ponytail or bun for work and liked to leave it loose on her own time. Kerry was a little envious of the fact that her sister still hadn't a single grey hair when she herself would be almost completely grey, if it wasn't for her monthly dying sessions with her trusty bottle of Nice'n'Easy Medium Auburn.

Maura had an ample bosom which she liked to accentuate with low-cut tops and she had a tiny waist, in spite of the fact that she never worked out. She had the perfect hourglass figure and a natural style of her own. She had never succumbed to the latest fashion fad, but somehow she always looked impeccable. Whenever they were out together men would stop and turn to
stare in the street after her but she seemed completely oblivious to the effect she had on them.

“What brings you around here this early?” Maura asked, eventually breaking their easy silence.

Kerry sighed heavily. “I'm tired of dealing with everything on my own. It's easy for Conor, he always says he's only a phone call away, but it's not the same as having him here with me, to talk to or even to vent my frustrations when the girls get out of hand. He gets to put the phone down and have a break from the madness. I'm stuck here dealing with everything full-time while he's travelling around from one fancy hotel to another. It's not easy. Sometimes I wish he was here more often so I could just talk to him face to face or have him deal with the girls for a change. Of course, he spoils them when he's home and I don't think he's ever disciplined them; he leaves all that up to me and I'm left looking like the bad guy. I don't know how I'd cope without your help. I'm so glad you live next door, but I know I depend on you too much sometimes and you must be sick of listening to me rattling on.”

“What else are sisters for? I know it must be tiresome for you at times,” Maura agreed with her sister. “You're also very lucky to have plenty of money and be able to stay at home full-time to raise your daughters. Most of the women who work with me would give anyth
ing to be in your situation. They hate leaving their babies at the creche from early morning until late in the evening. I couldn't leave my child with strangers for so long. I'd feel like they were bonding more with the child-minders than with me. It must be very confusing for the children, but most women don't have a choice, both incomes are needed.”

Kerry stared ston
y-faced into her coffee. She was sick and tired of everyone telling her that she was lucky and that Conor was so wonderful, just once she'd like someone to see that her life wasn't quite as perfect as it seemed.“I came here for some tea and sympathy, sis, not a lecture,” she finally spoke.

Maura
looked startled. “Oh, I'm sorry. I certainly didn't mean to offend you. Sometimes I let my mouth run away with me. Tell me, what's really wrong?” Maura smiled apologetically at her sister.

“It's Saoirse.”

“Is she ok?” Maura asked, sounding panic-stricken. Maura had not been blessed with children of her own so she absolutely adored Saoirse and Emer, spoiling them completely rotten. She loved both her nieces dearly but had a special soft spot in her heart for Saoirse. Kerry had suffered terribly from post natal depression for months after Saoirse's birth. She couldn't bear to even cuddle her new baby and spent days crying in bed. It was Maura who had mothered the tiny girl until Kerry had begun to recover and so it was that even the thought of anything being wrong with her beloved niece struck fear into Maura's heart.

“It's ok, calm down,” Kerry soothed her sister.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Maura insisted.

“Remember “the terrible twos”?

“How could I ever forget?” Maura grinned ruefully as she recalled the almighty temper tantrums that both Saoirse and Emer had experienced when they were toddlers.

“Well, I think Saoirse is experiencing “the terrible teens.”

“Oh dear,” Maura laughed involuntarily, relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. “It's been rather sudden. She slept over here a few weekends ago and was her usual sunny self then. What awfulness has she been inflicting on you? Surely she can't have changed so dramatically in such a short space of time?”

“It has been sudden,” Kerry agreed, running her hands through her hair, something she always did whenever she was feeling particularly stressed. “She went to bed on the eve of her thirteenth birthday as my wonderful, loving baby daughter and woke up the next morning full of attitude and cheek.”

Maura opened her eyes wide in disbelief. “So what's she said or done?”

“It's not what she's said exactly, it's more about what she's not saying. I'm lucky if I get a grunt out of her these days and her attitude is appalling. She treats me like I don
't know anything and that I'm the most uncool, dumbest person on the planet.”

“She'll grow out of it, I'm sure.”

“There was a new development this morning,” Kerry continued slowly. “She dyed her beautiful blonde hair the most unattractive shade of neon pink.”

“She didn't!” Maura exclaimed, clutching her mouth in an effort to stifle a giggle.

“What's so funny?” Kerry asked, glaring indignantly at her sister.

“I think it serves you right,” Maura laughed. “Don't you remember what you were like as a teenager? You had poor Auntie Aisling driven distracted with your punk rocker phase.”

Kerry had the good grace to blush at the memory.

“Yeah, I remember. The sudden transformation I had at thirteen evaporated when I went away to university; five long years later. Auntie Aisling laughed when I said that suddenly she seemed to know a lot about the world again in my eyes. I recall thinking for years that she was old-fashioned and not
very clever. Of course, back then I thought I knew everything and she knew nothing.”

“Typical teenager,” Maura rolled her eyes. “I'm glad that I get to experience parenthood vicariously through you. Sometimes I wonder how you have the patience to raise two children. I would have gone insane by now, especially when they were younger. I love them both to bits but my goodness they are hard work.”

“Tell me about it,” Kerry sighed. “I have to admit that I was very lucky to have all the help I had when they were small. It was such a huge relief that Conor insisted we have au pairs and nannies and I'm very grateful for that. I don't know how most mothers cop. It's true what Auntie Aisling used to say; “small children, small problems, big children, big problems. Life was a lot simpler when they were babies.”

“Saoirse and Emer have given you very little trouble over the years,” Maura interjected, rushing to defend her beloved nieces.

“I know, I feel guilty complaining about them but there's something else that's beginning to worry me about Saoirse,” Kerry continued. “She hasn't been eating much recently.”

Maura's face fell. “We need to keep an eye on that,” she said quietly. “Hopefully it's just a phase but we can't let it continue for long or it might develo
p into anorexia. I couldn't bear to see Saoirse go through what you experienced.”

Maura's face clouded at the memory of her sister's battle against anorexia nervosa. Kerry was thirteen years old when she started to obsess about her body and weight, the same age
as Saoirse.

It
had taken several years for her family to recognise how Kerry was punishing herself. She became very adept at hiding her diminishing frame under baggy tops and loose jeans. Her weight had plummeted to almost six stone before they’d realised that there was something very wrong. Her aunt and uncle assumed that she had simply lost her baby fat during puberty and as a result of all the sports she played. When Maura had seen her sister's skeletal frame one afternoon at the swimming pool she knew that something was badly wrong and had immediately told their aunt.

Aunt Aisling did her best to address her niece's issues but Kerry's battle with anorexia lasted throughout her teenage years. Her troubles
had started when one of her friends had made a mocking remark that she was a little chubby around the middle and could do with losing a few pounds. Kerry had been absolutely mortified and had immediately embarked upon a punishing diet and exercise regime in order to gain a flat stomach like the rest of her pals. The slimmer she got the more compliments she received, thus encouraging her to lose even more weight and trapping her in the addictive cycle of anorexia nervosa.

Food became almost abhorrent to her. She would obsess over every single calorie and at the height of her illness she was surviving on as little as five hu
ndred calories a day! She compulsively weighed herself and if she'd gained even half a pound she would feel utterly devastated. The number on the scales had the power to make or break her.

Kerry remembered feeling an odd mixture of emotions when she had anorexia; from feeling superbly confident to terribly insecure. She
’d hated her body and the inevitable changes that puberty brought to her. Part of her didn't want to grow up and was desperate to stay in the comforting and familiar security of childhood. She fervently hoped that her daughter wasn't experiencing the all too familiar cocktail of teenage self-loathing and lack of self-worth.

“Remember how obsessed you we
re about everything?” Maura asked. “You turned into a bit of a control freak for a while.”

“I remember,” Kerry replied. “I was so moody and inconsistent. One day I was obsessed with Catholicism and the meaning of life and the next day I was obsessed with the gardener and the day after that I wanted to be a nun and go and live in a convent!”

“You were a complete head-wreck,” Maura agreed. “There were so many times when I just wanted to smother you and put us both out of your misery!”