They were, after all, Eden considered, women who had chosen a vocation where not having children was a prime requisite.
‘I liked teaching children,’ said Sister Agatha thoughtfully. ‘Getting that lovely little mind and helping shape it. There was sheer joy in that. But as to actually having a child myself, no. My sister, the one who had all the better clothes, she had ten. Ten children are too much for any woman, is all I can say. She was always pregnant. I think I did better out of the whole bargain.’
‘Ten children!’
‘And none of them twins,’ said Agatha meaningfully. ‘I told her that she should lop it off in the middle of the night, so he’d keep away from her.’
Eden burst out laughing.
‘The reporter is coming over,’ said Sister Rita out of the side of her mouth.
‘Right, OK, grand.’
‘Well, we’re here every evening,’ said Sister Agatha, ‘if you need a bit of a pray and a bit of peace, we’re here. We’ve seen it all too and we understand how it can weigh a person down.’
‘I came here to wish you a happy birthday. I didn’t know whether to bring a cake or maybe a bottle of wine, so I brought a cake.’
Sister Agatha looked at her. ‘I don’t have a sweet tooth anymore but a bottle of whiskey would be nice,’ she said. ‘We’re allowed to have a little tot occasionally and it helps me sleep. When you get to my age, sleep evades you.’
‘Bottle of whiskey coming up,’ whispered Eden and she hugged both nuns before they all posed quickly for the photographer.
Savannah sat outside the office in the back and let the cigarette smoke slip deep into her lungs. Ever since the time before when she’d had the cigarette with Anthony, she had had three more, which was ridiculous. She didn’t smoke. But there was something about the self-destructiveness of this, something that Calum would hate, that made it terribly attractive. She tried to blow a smoke ring and failed. She’d never smoked. Eden had dabbled with it, could blow smoke rings. Eden was the perfect bad girl archetype. Not me, thought Savannah. She’d been good, sensible, the twin that everyone asked for when they needed something done. No need to get Eden, you’ll do, people would say. It had been lovely being the sensible one, because it meant you were never in trouble and it was calming. Calming in a chaotic world, when Dad had been wild and Mum had been acting like a swan, serene on the surface and paddling madly underneath. Being sensible felt like the right choice. It meant being in control, but now, as she tried to blow another smoke ring, now she wasn’t being sensible. Her being sensible had got her nowhere.
She felt so fragile and shaken. Unhinged almost. She held up the hand with the cigarette and it shook. The veins were blue.
‘Savannah,’ came a voice.
She looked up to see Leonora, the receptionist, waving a mobile phone at her.
‘You left your phone and it’s been going bonkers. I was on a call and I couldn’t answer it.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Savannah, leaping to her feet. She never left her phone out of her hands. She grabbed it: the school had rung twice and Calum once. What had happened? Something had happened with Clary. She rang the school and got through immediately.
‘Mrs Desmond, yes, we tried to get you, but we got your husband after all.’
‘Well, I’m here now, what’s happened?’
‘Just an incident with your daughter, it’s fine, it’s sorted.’
‘No, I’m coming over. What happened? Did someone hurt her?’
‘No, it’s more that she got upset for no reason really. And we thought maybe you should take her home.’
‘I’m on my way.’
‘Your husband said he’d do it.’
Savannah felt her insides freeze.
‘I’ll be there too,’ she said, and hung up.
She grabbed her things and was in the car in less than sixty seconds. She tried to think of what Calum was doing today, where he’d be, how long it would take him to get to the school. Because she needed to be there first. If Clary was upset, she wouldn’t want him. She’d want Savannah hugging her and holding her.
Parked right outside the school, in a place where only the principal parked, was Calum’s car. Savannah, who’d parked in a normal parking space, ran past the car and into the building. She raced all the way down to the principal’s office and saw Clary sitting there, outside the door, which was half open. Calum and the headmistress, Ms Turner, were talking.
‘Yes, oh you’re wonderful, wonderful, I wish all the fathers were like you,’ Ms Turner was saying to Calum.
Savannah mouthed. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she said, ‘I had my phone somewhere else, I was having a meeting.’
