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Authors: Sheila Claydon
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shoulders.
“Poor June,” she murmured. “I know how she feels because I’ve been there, except my baby didn’t recover. Tom and I had a little girl when Ruairi was four. She was beautiful. We called her Colleen, and when she was born we were so happy. Then the doctor told us there was something wrong with her…that she had a heart defect…he said she would only live for a few weeks.”
She turned and looked at Maggie, her eyes full of tears. “He was wrong though. She survived for almost a year. She was such a happy baby too, and so good. It was almost as if she knew she wasn’t going to be with us for very long so she was determined to leave us with wonderful memories.”
“Ruairi adored her,” she added. “He wouldn’t accept it when she died. He was quite sure she was still in the hospital having more tests. In fact I don’t think he really got over her death until several years later when we met your family and he saw you.”
“So that’s why he was always so patient with me,” Maggie used Sophie’s cardigan to wipe away her own tears of sympathy.
Marie O’Connor nodded sadly. “Yes. You replaced the little sister he lost, while Mark, Peter and Andrew became the brothers I could never give him.”
And that explains everything thought Maggie despondently as she followed the older woman into the hotel suite. Ruairi really does think of me as a little sister after all; it’s just that until now I never knew it.
* * *
The children abandoned Ruairi and Maggie as soon as Mrs. O’Connor produced the room service menu and told them that as soon as they had chosen what they wanted for their supper she would telephone the hotel kitchen to order it. After much deliberation and a very detailed conversation about whether the hotel chef knew how to make proper cheese sandwiches, they placed their order, and then the three of them settled down in front of the television to watch a children’s program.
Relegated to second best, Maggie wandered out onto the balcony to look at the view she had only glimpsed through the dusk on the previous evening. Below her a long rolling lawn ended at the river bank where a few hotel guests were still stretched out on recliners, making the most of the late afternoon sun. Further off a flotilla of ducks made its way upstream skillfully avoiding the boats that were drifting slowly back to their moorings. Weeping willows trailed branches in the water while cow parsley and marsh marigold softened the edges of the river and a few majestic horse chestnut trees on the far bank added a dramatic backdrop.
Ruairi join ed her and handed her a long glass clinking with ice cubes. “Orange and cranberry juice with soda,” he told her. “I thought you might say it was too early for wine.”
“You thought right,” she smiled her thanks as she sipped her drink. “With two small girls to get to bed I need all my wits about me.”
“Not something you need to worry about for a while,” he gestured towards the open doors of the balcony behind them. “Mum is in her absolute element. Nothing that we do on this holiday will be as good as having Sophie and Amy all to herself for an hour or two.”
“Well all help is gratefully accepted,” Maggie laughed. Then she grew serious.
“Your Mum just told me that she onc e lost a baby, a little girl.”
“Yes, Colleen. I was very small, three or four I think. I don’t really remember much about her.”
“But she told me you doted on her.”
He shook his head. “Perhaps I did but I soon forgot. I was barely more than a baby myself. I know we moved house quite soon after she died although I barely remember doing that either, but I do remember having to go to a new school.”
“And that’s where you met Mark and then Peter and Andrew.”
He smiled down at her. “Yes. And later on I met you too.”
“Your Mum says you didn’t really get over your sister’s death until you met me. She says I sort of replaced her in your
“Poor June,” she murmured. “I know how she feels because I’ve been there, except my baby didn’t recover. Tom and I had a little girl when Ruairi was four. She was beautiful. We called her Colleen, and when she was born we were so happy. Then the doctor told us there was something wrong with her…that she had a heart defect…he said she would only live for a few weeks.”
She turned and looked at Maggie, her eyes full of tears. “He was wrong though. She survived for almost a year. She was such a happy baby too, and so good. It was almost as if she knew she wasn’t going to be with us for very long so she was determined to leave us with wonderful memories.”
“Ruairi adored her,” she added. “He wouldn’t accept it when she died. He was quite sure she was still in the hospital having more tests. In fact I don’t think he really got over her death until several years later when we met your family and he saw you.”
“So that’s why he was always so patient with me,” Maggie used Sophie’s cardigan to wipe away her own tears of sympathy.
Marie O’Connor nodded sadly. “Yes. You replaced the little sister he lost, while Mark, Peter and Andrew became the brothers I could never give him.”
And that explains everything thought Maggie despondently as she followed the older woman into the hotel suite. Ruairi really does think of me as a little sister after all; it’s just that until now I never knew it.
* * *
The children abandoned Ruairi and Maggie as soon as Mrs. O’Connor produced the room service menu and told them that as soon as they had chosen what they wanted for their supper she would telephone the hotel kitchen to order it. After much deliberation and a very detailed conversation about whether the hotel chef knew how to make proper cheese sandwiches, they placed their order, and then the three of them settled down in front of the television to watch a children’s program.
Relegated to second best, Maggie wandered out onto the balcony to look at the view she had only glimpsed through the dusk on the previous evening. Below her a long rolling lawn ended at the river bank where a few hotel guests were still stretched out on recliners, making the most of the late afternoon sun. Further off a flotilla of ducks made its way upstream skillfully avoiding the boats that were drifting slowly back to their moorings. Weeping willows trailed branches in the water while cow parsley and marsh marigold softened the edges of the river and a few majestic horse chestnut trees on the far bank added a dramatic backdrop.
Ruairi join ed her and handed her a long glass clinking with ice cubes. “Orange and cranberry juice with soda,” he told her. “I thought you might say it was too early for wine.”
“You thought right,” she smiled her thanks as she sipped her drink. “With two small girls to get to bed I need all my wits about me.”
“Not something you need to worry about for a while,” he gestured towards the open doors of the balcony behind them. “Mum is in her absolute element. Nothing that we do on this holiday will be as good as having Sophie and Amy all to herself for an hour or two.”
“Well all help is gratefully accepted,” Maggie laughed. Then she grew serious.
“Your Mum just told me that she onc e lost a baby, a little girl.”
“Yes, Colleen. I was very small, three or four I think. I don’t really remember much about her.”
“But she told me you doted on her.”
He shook his head. “Perhaps I did but I soon forgot. I was barely more than a baby myself. I know we moved house quite soon after she died although I barely remember doing that either, but I do remember having to go to a new school.”
“And that’s where you met Mark and then Peter and Andrew.”
He smiled down at her. “Yes. And later on I met you too.”
“Your Mum says you didn’t really get over your sister’s death until you met me. She says I sort of replaced her in your
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