by Imogen Clark
Auntie Kathleen lived in a white stuccoed end-terrace house with garden around three sides. It still belonged to the council, although many of the others in the street had been bought by their occupants and so had lost the uniformity they once had. Porches, windows, conservatories and, in one ill-judged case, stone cladding the colour of over-washed denim had been added to the houses in recent years. Only Auntie Kathleen’s seemed to retain its original size and appearance. When Melissa had been a girl and ‘Uncle’ Len was still alive, the garden had been immaculate with a bowling-green lawn and neatly regimented borders. Now, though, it had a neglected air. The lawn was cut regularly enough but the grass had been allowed to grow right up to the fence, and the only flowers to be seen were the yellow dandelion heads that poked their way, uninvited, through to the light.
Melissa gave Leah a last check over, rang the doorbell and waited. Her mum had always just let herself in, but Melissa had never felt quite comfortable with that degree of familiarity. She didn’t want it reciprocated if Auntie Kathleen ever made it up to her caravan, although that was increasingly unlikely. Eventually she heard someone moving very slowly inside the house.
‘I’m coming,’ came a wavering voice, and what felt like minutes after that and with much pulling back of bolts, the door opened a crack and Auntie Kathleen peeped out.
‘It’s me,’ Melissa said, holding the sleeping Leah up to the crack in the door for inspection. ‘Melissa. And Leah.’
The door swung open.
‘Come in, come in,’ urged Auntie Kathleen. ‘It’s right good to see you. Come in out of the cold. Leave that pram there.’
Melissa took a wary glance up and down the street. The pram was only second-hand but she couldn’t afford to replace it. There was no one around to take it, though, and anyway, babies and consequently prams were two a penny around here. She tucked Leah into her chest, pressing her tiny head into her shoulder, and followed Auntie Kathleen into the dim hallway.
The house smelled faintly of lavender. It was a smell that Melissa had associated with Kathleen since she was a little girl and, although she had never identified precisely where the scent came from, it always just hung in the air.
Melissa followed Kathleen through to her sitting room. A card table had been set up between the sofa and the antimacassared armchair and covered with a broderie anglaise tablecloth. On it was a three-layered cake stand with neatly trimmed sandwiches on the bottom layer, chocolate fingers on the middle and fondant fancies on the top. How many ham and pickle sandwiches had Melissa endured over the years in order to get to the delights of the top two layers? A steaming teapot, a milk jug and two cups also sat waiting for them.
‘Sit yourself down,’ said Kathleen. She walked with a stick now, and by the large sigh she gave out as she sat down, Melissa deduced that moving around must have become quite an effort for her. How old would she be? Seventy-five, eighty? Older? Melissa should know, but she didn’t, and she had no one to ask; and Auntie Kathleen was of the generation that were secretive about their age.
Melissa sat down on the sofa and laid the sleeping Leah carefully next to her. The baby stirred briefly but didn’t wake.
‘She’s a bonny bairn,’ Kathleen said.
‘And do you like her dress?’ asked Melissa, finding, a little surprisingly, that she was anxious for approval from the old lady. ‘I put it on her specially.’
Kathleen nodded slowly. ‘Aye. She looks pretty as a picture.’
She leaned over to pour the tea, her gnarled hands shaking slightly under the strain. Melissa knew better than to offer to help.
‘And how are you finding motherhood?’ Kathleen asked once the tea was poured and the sandwiches distributed. ‘Taking to it like a duck to water?’
‘It’s good,’ said Melissa, nodding enthusiastically. ‘I mean, it’s hard, like. But now that she’s here I wouldn’t be without her. I feel kind of finished off, complete, like, you know?’
Hearing herself say it out loud, Melissa realised that it was true. Having a baby hadn’t been something that she and Ray had planned. Of course, it was always a possibility, and when her period was late she hadn’t been that surprised or shocked. She’d meant to get to the doctor’s for a repeat prescription of her pill, but somehow she hadn’t quite made it. Had she done that on purpose? She didn’t think so, but it wasn’t something she’d chosen to examine that closely, and she certainly hadn’t said anything to Ray.
She hadn’t mentioned her suspicions to him, either. She wanted to be sure. Over-the-counter pregnancy tests were pricey, but they were free at the clinic and she’d had a test done there, which had confirmed it. There was going to be a little one in her life.
Even then, Melissa still hadn’t told Ray. She worried that he might not want a child – it wasn’t something they had ever discussed – and that made her realise how much she did. As the baby grew inside her and she got more used to the idea, one thing became clear: even if Ray wasn’t interested in becoming a father, she was going to keep it. It wouldn’t be easy on her own, but it wasn’t impossible. Other women had children in less than ideal situations and coped okay.
Over the months since he’d first wandered into the pub, she and Ray had got into a routine of sorts. He would pick her up from work on the nights that he was in Newcastle and they would come back to the caravan. He’d started to stay the night, too – not every time, but often enough for her to think that he was serious. He was good company, light and funny, never taking anything too seriously, but not being over-casual either. Like most of the men she’d met, he wasn’t keen on talking about the future, but she didn’t feel as if he would ditch her if she did. As the months ticked on Melissa started to feel like their relationship was, if not permanent, then at least reliable. That might all change, though, when she told him that she was pregnant, but what could she do? She couldn’t put it off forever. He would notice for himself soon enough.
She decided to fill him in on their news as they were driving back to the caravan one night. That way, Melissa figured, he couldn’t storm off, although she hoped he wasn’t so shocked that he crashed the car into a tree.
‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said as they left the city centre and the traffic started to thin a little. She tried to make her voice sound excited, like this was something he would definitely want to hear, but it came out a little over-bright and desperate. Hoping he wouldn’t notice, Melissa spun round in her seat so she could watch his facial expressions. Then, steeling herself, she continued, ‘We’re going to have a baby. Isn’t that fantastic?’
Ray didn’t react at all, although Melissa was certain that he’d heard her. He just kept driving, his eyes never leaving the road.
‘Ray? Did you hear me?’ she asked, anxiety rising like bile in her throat. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Still nothing, but she saw his jaw tighten and his hands grip the wheel a little more firmly.
‘Well, say something!’
His silence was disconcerting. She hadn’t been expecting him to jump for joy – not to start with, anyway – but she was entitled to some kind of response, wasn’t she? Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the car. Melissa opened her mouth to suck in more oxygen as her heart beat harder. Why wasn’t he saying anything? It was almost as if her words had put him into some sort of trance.
‘Ray!’ she tried again. ‘Did you hear me? I’m pregnant.’
Then Ray flicked on the indicator, braked without warning and swerved the car to the side of the road. The car behind them honked impatiently, the driver flicking a V sign at them as he flashed by, but Ray seemed oblivious. Slowly he shifted the gears into neutral and turned off the engine.
Of all the ways that she had thought he might react, total silence wasn’t one Melissa had even considered, and it unnerved her. She sat still, her hand protectively on her stomach, hardly daring to breathe. Her smile had slipped now and she bit her lip as she waited for his judgement.
Ray looked first at her fa
ce and then down to her newly growing bump as if he couldn’t believe what she had told him. When he looked up again, though, there was the faintest of smiles, which blossomed into a wide grin. Melissa felt herself sag with relief.
‘That’s incredible!’ he said finally. ‘I can’t believe it, but it’s amazing news.’
‘You’re not angry, then?’ Melissa asked, relief making her ask the question even though she didn’t really want to hear if he was.
He shook his head. ‘I’m surprised,’ he said. ‘Shocked, even, but angry? No! We’re going to have a baby.’ Then doubt started to flicker across his features. ‘You do want to have it, don’t you?’
Melissa nodded frantically before he got the wrong end of the stick. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘I want to have it more than anything.’
‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’ He nodded decisively as if he were agreeing with some voice inside his head. ‘God,’ he added, rubbing his big hand over his chin thoughtfully, ‘this is not how I saw my evening panning out. How amazing. And complicated.’
For a moment he seemed lost in his own thoughts again. Melissa just sat and watched as he processed the information. Finally, he turned back to her. ‘And how about you?’ he asked tenderly. ‘Are you okay? No morning sickness? Swollen ankles? Cravings for coal?’
He was laughing now and Melissa knew everything was going to be all right.
And things had been all right, so far.
‘Does she sleep through the night?’ Auntie Kathleen asked, pulling Melissa back to the here and now. ‘If not, you’ll be wanting a little bit of porridge in her milk. Or whisky.’
‘They don’t do that any more, Auntie Kathleen,’ replied Melissa. ‘It’s nothing but milk until she’s six months.’
Kathleen shook her head. ‘Six months? The poor mite’ll be starved by then. And does your mother know?’
She dropped the question in so casually that it threw Melissa for a moment. She could feel the old lady’s keen eyes on her, searching her face. Melissa looked down and began to straighten Leah’s dress so that she didn’t have to meet Auntie Kathleen’s gaze.
‘I wrote to her,’ she said. ‘It’s hard to ring with neither of us having a phone, like, but I sent a card to the last address I had.’ She didn’t say that she hadn’t put a stamp on the envelope. Her mother wasn’t worth the price of one.
‘And?’ asked Auntie Kathleen, her tone gentler.
Melissa shrugged. She shook her head. ‘I don’t need her and she obviously doesn’t need me either.’
Auntie Kathleen opened her mouth to contradict her but then seemed to think better of it.
‘And what about this Ray, then?’ she asked. ‘Is he going to make an honest woman of you?’
Melissa whipped a fondant fancy from the top layer and popped it into her mouth whole to give her a minute to think. Her own mother was a waste of space who had messed everything up and then run off to Cornwall with a man she met on the beach, leaving Melissa to cope with life on her own. Melissa was not going to pass on the same legacy to her daughter. She would not let history repeat itself. Ray was going to marry her, come hell or high water.
18
MELISSA – THEN
‘My Auntie Kathleen thinks you ought to make an honest woman of me,’ Melissa said to Ray the following weekend. They were walking along the South Promenade, Ray pushing the pram with Melissa at his side, her arm neatly tucked into the crook of his. It had been a hot weekend, the first of the summer, and the town had been rammed all day with day-trippers desperate to soak up a few of the sun’s rays in case they were the last they saw for a while. Now, though, the heat had dropped away and there was the hint of an evening nip in the air. Melissa pulled the coverlet over Leah and tucked it in round the sides.
‘She’ll overheat, you know,’ said Ray, shaking his head with an indulgent smile, but he stopped walking to let Melissa arrange Leah’s layers.
‘She’s only little,’ objected Melissa. ‘Babies lose body heat much faster than we do and she’s just lying there.’
Ray smiled at her fondly. ‘You’ve taken to motherhood like a duck to water,’ he said. ‘I remember when . . .’ He stopped abruptly.
‘What?’ Melissa asked. Ray didn’t often tell her stories of his life before her and she was always alert to any snippets about his past.
‘Oh, nothing,’ he said. ‘Just that you’re a great mum, Missy.’
This was like manna from heaven to Melissa, and she squeezed his arm a little tighter as they moved onwards against the flow of families making for the car parks.
‘So, what do you think?’ she asked.
Ray looked confused. ‘About what?’
‘Making an honest woman of me,’ she said.
She winked at him. She was testing the water here, but why shouldn’t they get married? They’d been together for almost a year and a half. They got on well and now there was Leah. Actually, tying the knot wasn’t something they had ever discussed; if Melissa were being honest, she wasn’t sure if the subject had just never come up or whether she’d been avoiding it for fear of hearing his answer. She suspected it was the latter.
‘But we’re all right as we are, aren’t we?’ Ray replied, pulling her into him more closely as they walked.
Melissa felt the disappointment as keenly as if he had dropped it on her head.
‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘I suppose so, but it’s not just us now, is it? There’s Leah, too. It’s going to be tough on her growing up without a dad around.’
‘I am around,’ Ray said indignantly.
‘You know what I mean. It’s when she goes to school and she’s Leah Jackson, not Leah Allen – that’ll be the worst, like. Most of the kids in her class will have mums and dads that know me from way back. I’ll be just another girl who had a baby without being hitched. They’ll nod their heads and say that they always knew Melissa Jackson would never amount to much. Just for once, I’d like to prove them all wrong.’
Melissa could feel tears pricking in her eyes. She hadn’t realised that she felt like this until she said it out loud, but she knew exactly what everyone in town would say: that the apple never falls far from the tree. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted people to be talking about her because she’d caught herself a handsome, classy bloke from out of town. She wanted people to stop talking when she and Ray walked into the pub, to nudge each other and cock their heads, to say, ‘That’s him. That’s the one that’s married Melissa Jackson.’ Not that they ever went to the pubs in town, but that wasn’t the point.
Ray steered the pram to a bench and flicked on the brake. ‘Sit down,’ he said.
Melissa did as she was told, tears now released and trickling down her cheeks. ‘We know that we’re rock-solid,’ he said. ‘We don’t need to get married to know what we mean to one another, to Leah. I know I’m not here as often as I’d like but that’s just my job. I can’t do anything about that, and you knew how it would be when we first got together. I’ve never given you the idea that I would be around full-time.’
That was fair, at least. He’d never promised her more than he gave her. Melissa wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, but Ray reached into his pocket and fished out his cotton handkerchief. She took it from him but didn’t use it.
‘I know all that,’ she said, ‘and I understand, honest. You’ve got a dead good job and God knows, they’re hard to come by round here, and I know that you’re here as often as you can be. But . . .’ She looked up at him, certain that her mascara had run but not really caring. ‘We could still get married. Just because you’re away so much doesn’t mean that we couldn’t. This girl I know, her husband works on the rigs off Aberdeen. He’s gone for weeks at a time, like, but at least everyone knows she’s got a husband somewhere. That’s all I want, pet. Don’t I deserve that? Doesn’t Leah?’
‘Of course you do,’ said Ray. ‘I just didn’t think that you’d want to.’
‘Why would you think that?’ Melissa as
ked, her voice louder now. ‘Of course I want to marry you. You’re the man I love and now you’re the father of my baby as well.’
Ray looked out across the ocean towards the lighthouse. The sun was dropping now and the tower’s white paint glowed orange in the reflected rays. He did not speak but Melissa knew that these long silences were just the way he processed things. He needed time to think stuff through and she waited quietly, but her heart was beating so hard that she felt sure he’d hear it.
Leah stirred in her pram and Melissa worried that she would cry and interrupt this vital moment, but she just lay quietly, her little eyelids flickering open, and when Melissa leaned in to say hello, Leah gave her an enormous, heart-melting smile. Melissa reached to pick her up and Leah raised her arms to her, her smile broadening wider still.
‘Hello there, my little angel,’ said Melissa gently. ‘You think Daddy should marry Mummy, don’t you?’ She held Leah tightly against her chest, but Leah pushed back against her, as if she wanted to be part of this conversation between her parents.
Ray, brought round from his thoughts, focused his attention back on them. When he saw his baby daughter his face lit up. He was such a handsome man, Melissa thought, and she felt her heart tumble. What did it matter if he didn’t want to marry her? He was fun and good-looking and kind and he loved her. That should be enough for her. But it wasn’t.
Ray reached for Leah, taking her in his arms and supporting her head carefully, but then he shifted off the bench and dropped to one knee, sitting Leah on the other whilst he supported her back so that she didn’t fall.
‘Melissa Jackson,’ he said, with a wink, a mischievous grin on his face. ‘Would you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?’