The Forgotten Wife

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The Forgotten Wife Page 24

by Emma Robinson


  ‘I think I’ll take you straight in if you can walk? Might be quicker than waiting for the ambulance. I can put a blue light on and get us there quicker.’

  He was still talking calmly but this didn’t sound good. Lara and Shelley locked eyes. If Shelley could have picked Lara up like a baby right then and carried her to the car, she would have done. She heard her own voice as if it were down a long tunnel. ‘Okay, Lara, my darling. Let’s get you there and make sure you and this baby are okay.’

  44

  Shelley

  The hospital canteen had a coffee bar in the centre. Shelley was on her third cup because buying, stirring and drinking coffee gave her something to do. Something other than compulsively checking her phone to see if there was any word from Matt.

  The first responder had driven them to the hospital under a blue light and Shelley had had to watch helplessly as they’d wheeled Lara inside in a wheelchair. She had hung around the entrance so that she could tell Matt where to go when he’d arrived, breathless and terrified, thirty minutes later. A friend had driven him from London; she didn’t want to think about how many speed limits they had broken.

  He’d been allowed further into the hospital but not into the operating theatre, where their tiny baby was being delivered by Caesarean section. He’d sent her a message to thank her and let her know that they were delivering the baby, and that was the last she’d heard.

  Of course, she should have just gone home. But she couldn’t bear to leave until she knew the outcome. Please let the baby be okay.

  The coffee was cold, but still she sat. An older couple was walking towards the table next to hers. He carried the tray and she removed a couple of stray cups which hadn’t been cleared away.

  He rested the tray on the table, holding onto it with his left hand as he picked up their cups and saucers and put them on the table along with two metal teapots, a metal jug of milk and a plate with two small packets of biscuits. He returned the tray to the coffee bar and then sat opposite his wife, who smiled at him. ‘Are you feeling a bit better now, love?’

  He nodded. ‘Fine now. Nothing a nice cuppa won’t fix.’

  Shelley watched them from over the rim of her paper cup. The woman poured the tea – milk first – and he opened the biscuits and laid them out on the plate. She chattered at him – the grandkids, the garden, when they’d be able to get down to their caravan next – and he just nodded, gave the occasional answer. They were so settled in each other’s company. Must be what years of marriage can bring.

  Tears burned at the backs of Shelley’s eyes. This was what they were supposed to have: her and Greg. They were supposed to grow old together; they’d even joked of a future where they’d buy a little place in a village with a nice café by the sea. Every time they went on holiday to a quaint English town, they would press their noses up against the estate agents’ window, looking to see which house they would buy one day.

  But this was never going to happen for them. They wouldn’t be going for long walks in the countryside, or signing up for that Italian cooking course they’d always talked about, or even just sitting either side of the log burner that Greg had coveted. He was gone. Any growing older, she’d be doing on her own. It was so bloody unfair.

  She couldn’t sit there any longer. Couldn’t think about the future she wasn’t going to have.

  * * *

  Outside the hospital was a small garden with a bench. It was empty and the ideal place to sit so no one would see her cry. Worry about Lara, the smell of the hospital and now the old couple – it was all too much to take. With her face in her palms, Shelley sobbed. ‘I can’t do this on my own, Greg. I can’t. I need you here.’

  What would he do if he were here? He’d put his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Like he had when she’d lost the baby. He’d looked after her and comforted her. That’s what he did. But he couldn’t do it now. She was on her own.

  ‘It’s just not fair!’ She said the words aloud. Pushing them out of her felt like a relief. It wasn’t bloody fair. It wasn’t fair that there were nasty people, violent people, cruel people who got to carry on living and Greg had been taken. ‘It’s not fair.’

  And it wasn’t fair about Lara either. She would be a wonderful mother. Why was her body making it so difficult? Why were there neglectful parents out there able to have several children easily while Lara and Matt had to go through all of this to have one tiny baby? Who was running this show?

  It was impossible not to think about the last time she’d been at this hospital. Sitting in that small room. Listening to the doctor’s attempt at comforting words, which she couldn’t take in. The day her life had changed.

  There had been that moment. The moment she had felt him. He had held her before he’d left, she was sure of it. She’d never told anyone because she knew it would make her sound crazy, but he had said goodbye.

  She checked her mobile again. There was still no news from Matt. Maybe she should go home. But the thought of going back to her empty house – with Lara and Matt’s house empty next door – was more than she could bear.

  Lara had looked so frightened, haunted even. Shelley knew that look. She’d seen it in the mirror enough times in those first few months. Loss could hollow you out, leave you with nothing.

  ‘Oh, Greg. Wherever you are. Please make Lara’s baby okay. Please don’t let her lose another one.’

  And then her phone rang. Matt.

  45

  Lara

  Waking up from a general anaesthetic is very strange. It’s not like waking up from a night’s sleep because at least then you are aware that time has passed. A general anaesthetic is more like closing your eyes and then opening them to find that the world has moved on a few hours. When Lara first came round, she saw a man in a nurse’s uniform smiling at her. When he spoke, she heard his strong Spanish accent. ‘Hi, Lara. How are you feeling?’

  How was she feeling? Her mind was foggy and she couldn’t quite work out where she was. She was lying down on a bed. The man had hold of her arm and was wrapping a blood pressure cuff around… Suddenly, her memory caught up in a rush. The cramps. The first responder. The operating theatre. Oh no. She tried to push herself up from the bed, but a pain seared across her stomach and she fell back. ‘Where’s Matt?’

  The nurse was smiling at her. ‘Please, just give yourself a minute. He has gone to NICU. With your daughter. He didn’t know whether he should stay with you or go with her. Then I think his exact words were, “She’ll bloody kill me if I don’t go with the baby.”’

  My daughter? The baby? Dare I hope? ‘Did she make it? Is she okay?’

  It was one second and one lifetime before he replied. ‘She’s doing okay. A very respectable weight for a premature baby, and her colour was good. Congratulations, Mummy.’

  A well of emotion rose up through Lara’s chest and threatened to overwhelm her. She was okay. Her baby was okay. ‘Can I see her? Can I go to her now?’

  The nurse was about to reply when the door opened and Matt came into the recovery room. She could barely see his face for the size of his smile. ‘You’re awake.’

  She thought he was up in the special care baby unit. ‘What are you doing here? You should have stayed with the baby.’

  The nurse chuckled to himself as he finished checking Lara’s obs. He winked at Matt. ‘You said she’d say that.’

  Matt held his hands up. ‘I did go with her. But they need to get her equipment sorted out and they said it was a good time for me to pop back down and check on you.’

  Lara’s heart started to race. Was there something wrong? What were they keeping from her? ‘What equipment? What is it? Tell me.’

  Matt took her hand. ‘Hey, hey, shush. She’s fine. It’s all standard stuff for a prem baby, they said. Just some oxygen and monitors.’

  Lara looked at the nurse for confirmation, and he nodded. ‘I’ll give you two a minute while I find some orderlies to take you up to the w
ard.’

  Matt leaned down beside Lara and kissed her on the cheek, brushed a few hairs from her forehead. His own eyes were full. ‘Wait until you meet her, Lara. She’s the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen.’

  She tried to speak but she could only sob. All these years. All the loss. The pain. The ache. Everything tumbled out of her. Matt wrapped himself around her and his sobs joined hers.

  * * *

  Once Lara had persuaded the nurse on the ward that she was up to it, Matt took her in a wheelchair up to the neonatal intensive care unit to meet their daughter. It was strange to think that so many people had seen her before Lara could. The doctors, the nurses, Matt. Lara hadn’t even been awake to see her born. How would it feel when she saw her for the first time? Would it even feel real?

  Security was very tight to get into NICU and Lara couldn’t bear how long it took to go through to the right ward. Didn’t they know how desperate she was to see her baby? It was so quiet in there, just the beeps of a few machines and the squeak of the nurses’ shoes on the floor. Matt pushed her wheelchair after the nurse who was showing them to their daughter’s incubator. Their daughter. That was never going to get old.

  ‘Here she is.’ The nurse smiled and pointed at the plastic box in front of them.

  And there she was.

  How could she put into words that moment when she saw her child for the first time? A tiny, perfect human being. A living, breathing baby. It didn’t matter how much she had tried to imagine it, nothing could have prepared her for the reality of that moment. Lara and Matt had waited so long for this, had been disappointed so many times, had endured such terrible loss. But in that moment, everything was worth it. Every injection, every medication, every ache.

  Matt pushed her chair closer and Lara placed a hand on the top of the incubator. She couldn’t stop looking at her. She was so incredibly perfect. Her hands, her feet, her mouth. Matt was right, she was the most beautiful baby she had ever seen.

  The nurse leaned forwards and opened a circular flap in the side of the incubator. ‘You can touch her.’

  Lara held her breath. Her hand shook as she reached inside the hole and placed her fingertip into her daughter’s palm. ‘Hello, baby. I’m your mummy. And I’ve waited so long to meet you.’

  46

  Shelley

  Hospital corridors were always anonymous and echoing. This one had paintings of various exotic birds in homage to its name: Nightingale Ward. Which sounded a lot nicer than special care baby unit. Shelley had been itching all week to come in and see Lara for herself. Although Lara had texted her a picture of Baby Girl Simpson in her incubator, she wanted to hear it from her lips that both she and her new daughter were healthy and happy.

  Lara’s face was difficult to read. Exhaustion, anxiety and… relief?

  Shelley hugged her gently; Lara’s hands across the bottom of her stomach suggested that she was still tender from the emergency C-section. ‘How is she?’

  Lara’s face lifted as she spoke. ‘Perfect. Tiny, helpless. And so incredibly beautiful.’

  It was wonderful to see the pride in Lara’s face as she spoke. It was worth the week’s wait. ‘Oh, Lara. I’m so pleased she’s okay. And you? How are you feeling?’

  They shuffled along the corridor towards the hospital canteen. Matt was in the ward with their baby girl; Lara had originally said that she couldn’t leave her to see Shelley, but Matt had assured her that it would do her good to go and get a coffee and see the world outside the ward in daylight.

  ‘I’m okay. My stomach feels really tender and you can see I’m a bit slow getting about, but I’m just so relieved that she is okay. It’s a bit tough being on the ward with the other mums because they have their babies right there next to them. But I’ve had a word with myself about feeling jealous.’ She wiped away a fat tear; her voice croaked as she finished. ‘I don’t ever need to be jealous of anyone ever again. I’m a mum, Shelley. I’m an actual mum.’

  There was something so pure and real in the way she spoke that it squeezed at Shelley’s heart. She held out her elbow for Lara to link her arm for support. ‘And you will be the best mum in the world.’

  As they continued down the corridor, Lara filled her in on the last few days. The baby had weighed a surprisingly robust 4lbs 2oz and had only needed a couple of days’ breathing assistance. This was said with an air of pride totally appropriate for a new mother. She also described how the nurses had shown her how to change a nappy by putting her hands through the port holes.

  ‘When I got to hold her, oh Shelley, I just can’t describe how wonderful it was. They lifted her from the incubator – naked apart from her nappy – and put her inside my pyjama top with a blanket over the both of us. I could feel her body, warm against my skin. Her tiny movements. Her breath like a little bird fluttering at the bottom of my neck.’ She held her hands up to her chest as she spoke, as if the baby was there.

  The ward wasn’t far from the canteen, so even at Lara’s pace it wasn’t long before they were sitting in the same area Shelley had occupied a week earlier. It felt a lot sunnier seven days on. She made sure Lara was settled comfortably before buying them coffees and cake.

  Lara picked at the lemon muffin she’d chosen, focusing on it rather than looking at Shelley. ‘I am so glad you were there, Shelley. I keep going over and over it in my head while I’m sitting in there. If I had been on my own, I don’t know… I just can’t bear to think…’ When she looked up again, her eyes were fearful at the thought of it.

  Shelley reached over and put her hands around Lara’s. ‘Don’t think about that anymore. I was there and we got you here and everything is fine. You’re both okay.’

  Lara gave her a watery smile. ‘And what about you? You were going to tell me about your plans. I know you aren’t taking the job, so what now?’

  In the last couple of days, they had texted back and forth a few times. Shelley had told her that she wasn’t going for the job but had said she’d explain everything when she saw her. Since losing Greg, she’d lost touch with a lot of people. Some of the friends she would have assumed would be there had taken a step away. She got it. It couldn’t have been easy to be around her, and she’d been so unresponsive – she could understand why some people had stopped checking in. But Lara had been there for her. ‘It can wait. Once you’re back home, we can sit down and talk about it properly.’

  ‘Okay, but you have to promise that you will come straight over and tell me. That is, if I haven’t turned into a complete baby bore. She is my one topic of conversation at the moment, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I think I can allow you that. At least for another week.’ Shelley winked at her.

  Lara grinned. ‘You know, I never actually thought of her as a real live baby. I know that sounds crazy but it was just too… terrifying. I didn’t dare to picture her because I didn’t want to jinx it. I didn’t want to risk the fact that she wouldn’t actually come.’

  Shelley smiled. ‘Well, that’s completely understandable. After everything that you’ve been through.’

  Now she had started to talk about her daughter, Lara didn’t seem to want to stop. ‘It’s the weirdest thing though. She looks exactly as she should. Exactly as I would have imagined her if I had let myself do it.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘I really do sound like one of those parent bores, don’t I?’

  Shelley laughed; it felt good. ‘You do. But it’s great to hear. You bore away.’

  ‘Thank you. And I really do appreciate you coming in. But… do you mind if I take the rest of that coffee to go so that I can get back to them? I can’t bear being away yet.’ Lara pulled a self-mocking face but she was already pushing herself up out of her chair.

  Shelley moved furniture out of the way to make it easier for Lara to leave the table. ‘Of course, I’ll walk you back to the ward and leave you to your girl. I don’t suppose you know yet how long you will be in here?’

  They started their slow walk out of the canteen, Lara’s
steps still tentative. ‘I can’t pin anyone down to a time frame but one of the nurses said that if she continues to make good progress, she might be home in three weeks.’

  Shelley smiled at the thought of Lara cross-examining the staff. ‘Well, that doesn’t sound too long. If you need me to bring anything to the hospital for you or Matt, just text me a list.’

  ‘Thanks. They want to discharge me soon anyway but I’m not thinking about that right now. Just the idea of going home and leaving her here makes me feel a bit sick.’

  Shelley rubbed her arm. ‘Don’t think about that yet. Oh, Lara, I’m just so happy for you, I really am. And I can’t wait to meet her. Does she have a name yet?’

  A smile spread across Lara’s face. ‘She certainly does. As soon as I knew I had a daughter, there was only one possible name we could give her.’ She stopped and turned for dramatic effect.

  ‘Her name is Joy.’

  47

  Shelley

  The Garden of Remembrance looked even brighter today with the vibrant colours of the blooms. Shelley found the bench which she was beginning to think of as her own.

  There was another family here today. A mother and her two adult sons. The sons looked older than Shelley, and the mother was elderly. She watched as one of the men gave his mother an arm and she leaned against him. It was hard to lose a partner at any age.

  They were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear her talking aloud if she kept it quiet. It was always the getting started which felt odd. ‘Hi, Greg. I’m here again, come for a chat.’

  She always paused as if he was going to reply. It felt the right thing to do. ‘I’ve been at Dee’s again today. Cuddling our nephew, Dee’s little boy Jacob. Oh, Greg, he looks so much like you. I know that sounds crazy. I know how we used to mock people who said that their baby looked like them. All babies look the same, right? But he does look like you. I cried again when I held him today. I cried for you and for our baby who didn’t make it. Dee cried too. She misses you so dreadfully. She keeps saying that she wants Jacob to have a brother just like you; or a sister he can boss around, like you did.’

 

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