Page 13 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘Um.’

‘You’ll be okay. I just know it.’

Her confidence in me should fill me with hope, but I’m so full of worry that I don’t have any more space.

‘I better go,’ I say, my bum gone numb from the edge of the bath digging into me.

‘Okay. Give Ellie a cuddle for me, won’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘And I’m serious about that night out, Bea. You need to let your hair down now more than ever. And maybe Finton will babysit.’

Finton will absolutely not babysit. We both know this. But I say, ‘Sure, Cora. After Christmas, yeah?’

‘No. No way. We can’t wait that long. We have to celebrate your new single life sooner. While all the decorations are up. Maybe that new bar on Baggot Street. It does nibbles and stuff. Everyone in work says it’s lovely, and not too pricy.’

I can only imagine that not too pricy for all the medics Cora works with translates to much, much too pricy for me.

I sigh, shattered, because, as much as I would love to go for nibbles and drinks with my best friend the way most people our age do, I know it will never happen.

‘I better go,’ I say, again. ‘Ellie is crying.’

Ellie is not crying. She’s sleeping soundly. But I am. I am crying and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop.

FIVE

The following morning, I take Ellie to crèche as usual. She holds my hand tightly, watches out for traffic the way I’ve taught her and skips contently alongside me all the way.

‘Baltic out there, isn’t it?’ Alannah says as soon as we arrive.

‘Freezing,’ I reply as I set about peeling off Ellie’s coat and hat and gloves and placing them in the small box with her name on it under the reception desk.

I kiss the tip of her nose that’s red from the cold and encourage her to run along and play with her friends.

‘She might be a little cranky today,’ I warn Alannah once Ellie is out of earshot. ‘It was late when she got to sleep last night.’

‘Oh. Okay. Not to worry. I just remind them all that Santa is watching and they need to be on their best behaviour. It usually does the trick.’

My heart pangs at the mention of Santa. Ellie wrote her letter weeks ago and we posted it in the glittery cardboard box outside our local Tesco. Ellie asked for a Barbie house and some Crayola. I have neither yet.

‘I’ll see you later,’ I tell Alannah, then pull out my phone and start walking towards work. StHelen’s is at the far side of the city, but I need to save the bus fare. Besides, it’s dry and crispoutside and I could use the fresh air as I work up the courage to message Declan.

Hello

He doesn’t reply, but I can see he’s online and soon two blue ticks appear below my message and I know he’s read it.

Can you pass me on the landlord’s contact details please?

This time, his reply is instant.

Why?

So I still have somewhere to live.

I’m going to rent the place myself.

BTW Ellie has asked for Barbie stuff and some crayons for Christmas.

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