Two For Joy by Patricia Scanlan

native country was.
    Rita and Maura had gone to Greece and the Canaries on their honeymoons, on package holidays. Staying in Malta in a five-star hotel was certainly not a cheapie package honeymoon, she thought smugly, giving her teeth a quick clean. She actually felt as horny as hell. Must be after all the excitement. And besides, she hadn’t had proper sex for a month. She didn’t trust condoms and she certainly didn’t want people in Kilronan counting on their fingers, should she have conceived after coming off the pill. Well, they could count all they liked now. Everything was in order. She was Mrs Oliver Flynn and if she had a honeymoon baby, that would be the icing on the cake. Noreen opened the bathroom door and padded into the bedroom in happy anticipation, only to stand stock-still in disappointment as she saw Oliver, limbs spread-eagled, chest rising up and down rhythmically in a deep sleep.
    That was good money wasted on a negligée, she thought grumpily as she slid into bed beside her husband and switched out the light. She lay beside him wide awake, staring into the darkness. The dull roar of a jet taking off broke the silence. Noreen sighed and turned over, putting an arm around her husband. She slid her hand under the sheet. He was naked. ‘Oliver. Oliver,’ she whispered. She slipped her hand between his legs and began to stroke him. He sighed and turned over on his side with his back to her, still sleeping soundly.
    â€˜Some start to a honeymoon,’ Noreen said crossly, then felt mean. Oliver had worked his butt off before the wedding so that everything would be sorted before he took his two weeks off. They had their whole lives ahead of them. It was a pity though, she was ovulating right now and it could have been a night to conceive. She smiled in the dark. She’d waited this long – one more night wouldn’t make any difference.

7
    A Year Later
    Noreen snuggled deeper under the bedclothes. Vaguely, a long way away she could hear a voice calling her. She roused herself to consciousness. Oliver was standing, fully dressed, in front of her holding a breakfast tray. She blinked rapidly, rubbed her eyes and sat up. ‘Happy Anniversary, Noreen,’ her husband said as he laid the tray on her lap.
    â€˜Mornin’, Oliver. This is a treat,’ she said, smiling up at him, delighted that he had remembered without any hints from her. ‘Happy anniversary to you too. That year flew. Didn’t it?’ She leaned over and took a small box and card off her bedside table and handed it to him.
    â€˜There’s something for you on the tray,’ he said gruffly. Oliver always got embarrassed giving her a gift, even after three years of togetherness and one year of marriage. He was a strange fella, she thought affectionately as she unwrapped the slim, awkwardly gift-wrapped package. She opened the black case to reveal a beautiful string of white pearls nestled against red velvet.
    â€˜Oh Oliver, they’re beautiful. ’ Noreen’s eyes sparkled with delight. She’d almost doubted that he would remember and the fact that he had made the gift even more precious. ‘They’re absolutely gorgeous, Oliver. Thank you so much.’ Wait until Maura and Rita saw these, she thought, delightedly. They’d been asking her for weeks now did she think Oliver would remember their wedding anniversary. She’d been more than anxious, to tell the truth, but she deliberately hadn’t given any hints. She wanted proof that he loved her. Remembering their anniversary would be a sign that he did, she’d assured herself. Oliver wasn’t one given to sentiment. She’d had to make him go and buy her a Christmas card on Christmas Eve when one hadn’t been forthcoming.
    â€˜We’re married now. What do we need to be giving each other Christmas cards for?’ he’d demanded grumpily. ‘It’s pure nonsense.’
    â€˜No