The laptop needed rebooting by the time they were ready to make the connection with Dublin.
‘Junior here...’ Conor’s hand splayed across her tummy ‘...will turn up thinking it normal to do lots of exercise at odd hours of the day and night.’
Tamara chuckled as she spread her hand on top of Conor’s much larger one. ‘We do give him plenty of workouts.’
Conor tapped the internet icon. ‘Let’s do this.’
Oh, boy. She parked her butt on a stool, fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. Not ready. So not ready. Was she rushing into this without checking out everything about Conor? But, then, how did she do that? And did she really want to? It seemed underhand. But last time she’d trusted a man she’d cared for deeply she’d overlooked so many signs.
‘Hey, Mam, how are you?’ Happiness radiated out of Conor’s eyes as he talked to his mother for a few minutes. Then he shifted the laptop so she was in the picture too. ‘I’ve got someone I want you to meet.’
A gazillion faces appeared before her, each person pushing someone else out of the way. The cacophony of excited, almost incomprehensible Irish voices was deafening and reminded Tamara of a visit to a bird sanctuary in Queensland many years ago. How did anyone in this family know what was going on when they were all talking at once?
Conor reached for her hand, held it firmly. ‘Tamara is my fiancée.’
Her mouth fell open. Not going for a slow lead-in, then. ‘Ah, um, hi, everyone.’
‘Hello, Tamara. You look gorgeous.’
‘What do you see in our lump of a brother?’
‘Hey, Tamara, are you a Kiwi?’
‘Conor,’ his mother shrieked. ‘How long have you been seeing her and not told me?’
He leaned close to Tamara and whispered, ‘See? Another reason why I came Down Under.’
She shook her head at him. ‘You have no idea how fortunate you are.’ How could he have left Ireland? His family? She’d never have been able to do it.
‘You’re not saying much,’ someone, female, said.
‘I’m surprised any of you can hear a thing,’ she quipped.
‘Meet the family,’ Conor’s mum responded. ‘It’s like this all the time.’
Conor held his hand up. ‘Okay, guys, shut up for a moment. Tamara and I have things to discuss with you and I only want to say them once.’ Instant silence descended.
‘Unbelievable.’ Tamara smiled.
‘Yep,’ he mouthed in her direction, before leaping right in with the next load of news. ‘We’re having a baby in six months. We’re also probably moving to Sydney.’
Conor continued yabbering to his family, and the level of voices coming back at him was rising fast. Back to normal, Maguire style. Warmth trickled through her. By carrying Conor’s baby she’d become a part of this family. So far they hadn’t pulled faces or called her names. It had never ceased to shock her how someone who only recognised her from camera shots or headlines in the paper could come up and talk to her as though she was known to them. Worse, they often had plenty of advice for her, from how to get back on her feet to what she should do to pay back all those millions Peter had stolen. And now this. Amazing.
‘Tamara, welcome to our family. You don’t know how thrilled I am about this news. And you must call me Judy.’ Conor’s mother spoke directly to her. ‘I guess we’d better go, but I’ll talk to you again soon.’
‘Th-thank y-you.’ A tear sneaked down her cheek at the simple kindness shown her by a stranger. Conor’s mother, until fifteen minutes ago unknown to her. Things really were looking up. With such a wonderful family, who appeared genuine, Conor must be the real deal, surely?
Leaning her head against his shoulder, Tamara ran her fingers over his chest. ‘Your mother’s lovely. So are Dave and all those sisters and their families.’
‘You should try contacting your mother again.’
She stiffened. ‘What’s the point? She’ll only tell me I’ve made yet another mistake and that I have to get on with it. Without her.’
‘When did you last talk? As in really talk?’
‘The day after Dad’s funeral.’ A lifetime ago. ‘The fraud squad had just left the house with a vanload of cartons containing private papers from Dad’s study.’
He started rubbing her back softly. ‘You’re beginning to look pregnant.’ Warmth stole through her as he cupped her breast.
She placed a hand on her small baby bump. ‘Mum’s sister came out from Australia for Dad’s funeral. She had plenty to say about me, blamed me for the fact that Mum was no longer wealthy and would have to live in relative poverty.’
‘Your mother didn’t disagree?’
‘That’s the funny thing. She did at first. Stuck up for me, saying there was no way I could’ve known what had been going on. She even gave me hugs and talked about Dad as we’d known him before the dementia stole his mind. It was a sad yet funny morning. We looked through photos of the three of us on holidays, at functions, doing the things families do. Of course, we had no idea what would go down later.’
‘When did it all change?’
‘The next morning my aunt went to town to buy some clothes. That’s when the reality struck, first her and then Mum. She came storming in and threw all the photos on the floor, jumped on them and screamed at me for losing everything. She’d never qualified at anything and bemoaned Mum’s luck at finding a rich man. Dad had always kept them both in funds. That day the credit cards simply didn’t work any more.’
‘And it was all your fault.’
‘Apparently. Mum didn’t want to believe my aunt so they went out and tried to buy a bracelet at the local jewellers. Same result, and the end of my relationship with my mother. She went on a rampage, visiting fashion shops to try on clothes she could no longer afford, leaving them in piles on the shop floors. It was all there in the papers that night. They flew to Australia the next day and I’ve never heard from Mum since. I have rung her often, only to be hung up on.’
‘She cut you off when you’d done nothing more than trust the wrong man, a man her husband had believed in enough to hand over the company’s operations to.’ Conor tightened his hold around Tam, and she leaned into him. ‘Would you want your mother to know about the baby and take part in his life if she could get past what happened?’
‘Yes.’ Had he lost his mind? ‘Of course I want Mum to be his grandmother in more than name.’ She wasn’t exactly the perfect role model for a mother, but she was her mother.
‘Want to try anothe
r phone call?’
‘And take another king hit? No, thanks.’ But she would, just not tonight after that wonderful session talking with Conor’s family.
‘I’ve got a suggestion.’
She started to object.
‘Hear me out. Write to her, tell her about us and the baby, and how we’re moving to Sydney. Put it all on paper, including how you’d like her to be part of the family.’
‘She’ll tear it up.’
‘Or she’ll set it aside and keep going back to stare at the envelope with your writing on it until she can’t resist it and gives in to curiosity.’
‘She’ll get rid of it the moment she sees my scribble.’ Or would she?
‘She might not. Or she might, but it would be worth the risk to get your mother back.’
A soft silence fell over them. Conor continued holding her close, and she continued soaking up the warmth he brought her. ‘I’ll think about it.’
* * *
Monday morning and bedlam. ED was overrun with year-three children from Parnell Primary. Parents were kept busy, trying to control the little getaways who seemed more intent on destroying the department than getting treated for bee stings.
‘Tell me how so many kids were stung?’ Conor shook his head at the chaos before turning back to a harassed teacher who also had stings on her arms and face. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Me neither. We were out on the field, playing soccer, when a swarm came up the bank and straight into our midst. It’s the first time I’ve seen bees swarming and it was scary.’
‘I bet.’ He’d never experienced a swarm. ‘To have all those children out there, being attacked, would’ve been a nightmare.’
‘I’m grateful only two had serious reactions. We did get most of the kids into the swimming pool quick smart.’