Free From Here to Maternity by Sinéad Moriarty Page A

‘What do you think?’ she asked, nodding towards the aeroplane guy. ‘He plays in a band. Cute or what?’
    ‘Hi. This is my son Yuri – the one I’ve adopted from Russia. Would you like to say hello or are we going to have to analyse some leper you just met on a plane for the next hour?’
    Babs rolled her eyes. ‘It’s good to see that motherhood has really chilled you out.’ Then, turning to Yuri, she took his hand. ‘Cute kid. Lucky for him he’s adopted or he could have been a redhead.’
    ‘Thank you, Babs,’ said James, laughing, while I fumed. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone has said. You really have a way with words.’
    Babs shrugged. ‘I’m just being honest. Who wants a ginger baby? I hope the next one,’ she said, pointing at my stomach, ‘doesn’t get Emma and Sean’s redhead genes.’
    ‘Well, as long as they don’t inherit your nose they’ll be all right,’ I snapped.
    ‘You can’t wind me up about that any more, Emma,’ she said, ‘it’s all in the past.’ She wriggled the new one at me. I was tempted to punch it, but didn’t want Yuri to witness violence at such a young age.
    ‘Lucky you,’ I said, turning to Sean, ‘having Babs in your apartment twenty-four-seven. It must be heaven.’
    ‘Joy, the like of which I never knew existed,’ said Sean. ‘She’s a regular ray of sunshine to wake up to in the morning.’
    ‘Not to mention considerate and generous.’ I giggled.
    ‘Never stops giving. She was born selfless.’
    ‘Oh, shut up,’ said Babs, as the rest of us roared laughing.
    On the drive home to Mum and Dad’s house, I warned Sean that Mum was sniffing around for information about the wedding. He said it was all booked and paid for, with no room for change or manoeuvre and he’d fill us all in on the details later.
    ‘They might as well be married now,’ said Babs. ‘They’re so dull. I thought they’d take me to all these cool bars and clubs, but all they do is sit in cooking dinner and watching movies or talking about wedding arrangements. Boring!’
    ‘Why don’t you go out and make friends?’ asked James. ‘I’m sure the English boys would find you most entertaining.’
    ‘Well, I can hardly go out on my own and sit in bars like a slapper.’
    ‘God, no,’ said Sean. ‘Someone might mistake you for the type of girl who sleeps with other people’s older, rugby-playing boyfriends.’
    James and Sean laughed at this, while I tried not to, out of loyalty to Lucy. To cut a long story short, last year, shortly after Donal and Lucy got engaged and had that huge argument about young Annie and Lucy had arrived on my doorstep, devastated because it was all off, Donal, who was equally upset, had gone out and got blind drunk. Unfortunately he bumped into Babs in a nightclub and one thing had led to another. I innocently called over to Donal’s the next morning to pick up some work suits for Lucy only to find my little sister strutting about naked, except for Donal’s rugby shirt. On hearing me shouting, Donal had woken up from his alcohol-induced coma and got the fright of his life when he realized what he’d done. Although I was furious with him, not to mention Babs, I had decided against telling Lucy as it was clear he regretted it and didn’t, in fact, remember it. Besides, I knew he was genuinely in love with Lucy, and shortly afterwards they had sorted out their differences and got back together.
    ‘In case you’ve all forgotten, he was the one with the fiancée, not me. So if you’re going to give anyone a hard time, slag him,’ retorted Babs.
    ‘Believe me, I have,’ said James.
    When we arrived home, Mum and Dad were waiting for us with a lovely big fire burning and food and drink laid out. Dad loved Christmas, and every year the house looked more like Santa’s grotto. Yuri was dazzled by all the lights and decorations. He sat on the floor cooing and the Christmas-tree lights flashed – much to my mother’s disgust: she thought