But I was already out of my seat. ‘Are you sure you haven’t upset someone or owe them money?’
‘No, of course not,’ Steve called after me.
I hurried down the road, dodging people who were in my way, not taking my eyes off her. As I grew nearer, I let the other shoppers and tourists shield me, so I could get a closer look, see her face more clearly; heavy tan make-up, thick dark eyebrows, nude filler lips. She started to do a runner down the street, glancing back over her shoulder. Steve ran after her, catching up as the crowds slowed her down. Enough time for him to take a photo of her. Definitely the same woman as before.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Are you certain it’s the same woman?’ Steve showed me the photo he’d taken.
‘A hundred per cent.’
‘Hey, you’re shaking.’ He slipped his phone in his back pocket and took my hands. ‘Let’s get you back to the B&B.’ Steve hailed a taxi.
In our room, I lay on the bed, propped up on pillows. My mind sifting through all the possibilities. Who would waste their time and money following us around?
‘It can’t be a coincidence. Not this many times. Are you positive you’ve not upset someone, because I’m starting to feel pretty scared.’
He shook his head, pacing up and down the room.
‘Would anyone you know have a reason to set someone onto you?’
‘No, honestly. I’m wracking my brains here.’
‘It wouldn’t be to do with Malcolm checking up on me, making sure I’m not smoking or drinking?’
‘No way.’
I swung my legs off the bed, but they felt wobbly.
‘Look, maybe we should tell the police.’
‘What can they do?’
He slumped down on the end of the bed. ‘I don’t know, but at least it would be on record.’
* * *
The next morning we had a late breakfast, because I felt nauseous and my head was pounding. I put it down to stress and not drinking enough water. I took some tablets and we set off to the Brighton Pavilion.
It was like stepping back in time with the beautiful silk wall paintings and wide staircases. I imagined myself in long flowing dresses, gliding down the stairs. I couldn’t wait to be thin again. The babies were growing fast now, my stomach was so wide and the skin itched where it had stretched. Would I ping back into shape this time or was my figure ruined? I knew I shouldn’t worry about it, but I wanted myself back at the end of all this.
By lunchtime, my headache was worse, and my ankles were swollen from all the walking in hot weather. We sat in the Pavilion garden sipping a bottle of water, but I wished it was ice-cold so I could drench my feet in it; they were near to bursting out of my canvas shoes. The pain of my headache pierced the side of my eye, blurring my vision. But it was too soon to take any more tablets.
‘I’m not sure I can make it to the beach, this has turned into a migraine.’
‘It’s not far, do you good to walk it off.’
‘I don’t think it will. Look at my puffy feet and ankles.’
‘Walk barefoot for a while?’
‘I won’t be able to get my shoes back on.’
‘You need to soak them in the sea, cold salty water will help.’ Steve took my hands and pulled me up.
‘You’re not listening. My head’s killing me. I feel really awful, like I might throw up.’ I couldn’t even say a whole sentence without running out of breath. I leaned the side of my face on his chest and he put his arm around me. How was it possible that my little body could grow two whole human beings? My bump was so tight I doubted they had much space left to grow. Perhaps it was getting too much for my body. I wanted this pregnancy to be over, even though I wasn’t anywhere near ready to give the babies up.
So many times, I’d pictured the moment I’d hand them over to Brenda and Malcolm. I’d had a recurring dream of waving them off and the babies screaming without me there to protect them. The umbilical cords would be cut, but I would always be connected to them. They were part of me. No one could ever take that away. It was strange to think of me having children with Malcolm though. Our DNA combined forever. A bitter taste came into my mouth. My features mixed with his. The thought of it made me grimace. How would Steve react when he saw the reality of it?
* * *
I still felt sick the next morning, so we decided to leave Brighton earlier than planned, but when we came to pay the bill, our cards for the joint account were declined.
‘Shit,’ I said under my breath. Steve turned his back on the receptionist and kicked our suitcase. Why hadn’t the second payment cleared yet? I dug deep into my handbag and pulled out our chequebook. At times like this, it was a lifeline. Malcolm must be playing games with us; he certainly didn’t have money problems.
Fortunately, the hotel accepted a cheque with my banker’s card number written on the back as well as our address and full names.
‘What if it doesn’t clear?’ I whispered, wringing my hands.
‘I’ll bloody throttle him, that’s what.’ Steve gripped the steering wheel so hard, I thought it would snap.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When we reached Mum’s, I was so tired I lay down in the spare room and fell asleep.
When I woke up, I felt odd, not quite there. My ankles were still swollen and lights flickered in my eyes.
The next morning, Steve drove me to my hospital appointment after we’d dropped Alice at nursery. I told the midwife straight away how strange I’d been feeling. She sent me off to do a urine sample. When I came back, she unscrewed the bottle and dipped a small strip of paper in it.
‘Right, let’s check your blood pressure.’
I sat by her desk and she slipped the cuff onto the top of my arm and pulled it tight.
‘You’re what, thirty-five weeks now?’
‘And four days.’
She smiled and pressed the button which inflated the cuff, squeezing my arm until it hurt. I detected a slight squint in her eye as she read the result. The machine deflated.
‘Let me just check that again. I still prefer the good old manual machine.’
But when it inflated again and she saw the result, her face pulled up tight. Without another word, she undid the cuff, slipped it off my arm and dragged the manual machine over. She didn’t look at me this time as she squeezed the black rubber bulb until I thought my arm would burst. For what seemed like ages, she stared at the result. I glanced sideways at Steve as she left the room. A moment later, a male nurse followed her in with a wheelchair.
‘Your blood pressure is sky-high, Charlotte. Your top line is 196 and there are traces of protein in your urine. We need to keep you in under close observation for the next few hours.’
‘Are you worried she’s going to have a heart attack?’ Steve stood up.
I put my hand on my chest and blinked at her. She leaned on the desk towards me.
‘I’m worried you’ll have a stroke. You have pre-eclampsia, which means we may need to deliver the babies early.’
‘Oh god.’ I grabbed Steve’s hand and took a deep breath to calm myself.
‘That’s dangerous, right?’ Steve asked.
‘It can be. For the mother and the baby.’ She helped me into the wheelchair and whisked me off to a room on the maternity ward. Steve followed alongside me. I’d heard of pre-eclampsia, but I didn’t really understand what it was. I knew how serious it could be though – a woman at work had had it a couple of years ago and lost her baby.
The small room had a bed and a fan on a low cupboard. Two nurses and a doctor came in after us.
‘Let’s get you strapped up to the monitor, see how these babies are doing,’ the doctor said, indicating for the nurses to help me onto the bed and turn me onto my side. Steve clasped my hand as a pain crept along my right side under my breast.
‘You’d better go and call Mum and Brenda,’ I told him, trying not to let the panic seep into my voice.
* * *
; Mum blustered in an hour later, still in her salon work clothes. ‘I got here as quickly as I could. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, no change.’ I sipped a bottle of water and rested it on the huge mound of my belly.
‘Why I didn’t notice the signs yesterday, I’ll never know.’ She pulled a chair up to the bed and hooked her handbag over the back of it.
‘They’re still struggling to get her blood pressure down,’ Steve said, pushing a loose tendril of hair away from my face and back under the clip.
‘I’d never forgive myself if…’ Mum took in a breath.
‘They said they’ll whip me in for a C-section if necessary. The nurse will be back in a minute, if you want to ask her anything.’
Mum waved her hand at her face as if fanning herself, but she started to cry.
‘I’m going to be okay.’ I reached for her hand, hoping I sounded confident.
‘What would we tell Alice?’
‘Let’s try and stay positive shall we?’ Steve clenched his jaw.
‘But we need to discuss this. Literally anything could happen.’
‘I’ve tried calling Brenda,’ Steve said.
‘I’m not talking about them, I mean Charlotte. If something… goes wrong.’ Mum’s face flushed red. She gulped a mouthful of air. ‘Do we tell Alice that her mum has gone away forever… because… because she wanted to have babies for someone else?’
My stomach tumbled out of control.
‘Stop right there,’ Steve shouted, holding both hands up, ‘Charlotte is stressed enough without this.’
‘But how would you look after Alice and keep your business going?’
‘Gloria, we are not having this conversation!’ Steve looked on the verge of tears.
I couldn’t find any words to say.
‘Where are those people anyway? Do they have any idea what they’re putting you through?’
My head felt like it was floating away from my body. Were they really talking about me not being here? I didn’t want to die. I couldn’t bear the thought of Alice growing up without me. I’d miss out on too much. I wanted to be there for her birthdays, when she grazed her knees, started school, got married. She needed me.
‘Everything all right, Charlotte?’ The ward sister looked straight at me as she strode in, registering my hot cheeks and tears beginning to spill down my face.
Mum stood up. ‘I’m concerned about my daughter.’
‘So are we, I can assure you. Now, you don’t want to be the cause of Charlotte’s blood pressure rising any higher, do you?’ She opened the door and guided Mum towards it. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside for a moment, please.’
The sister came back in and checked my blood pressure, then the babies’ heartbeats on the monitor.
‘They’re steady for now.’ She smiled and laid a hand on my arm. ‘Shall I send Mum back in?’
I nodded. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll give you a few minutes together first, then I want you to have a rest once your mum’s gone.’ She rearranged my pillows and left.
Steve smoothed my hair back and tipped his forehead against mine. I gazed into the darkness of his eyes. We blinked at each other, probably having the same thoughts.
‘I’m sorry for not taking it more seriously, when you said you felt unwell.’ He pulled back slightly, head bowed.
‘You weren’t to know. I thought puffy feet and ankles was fairly normal, especially as it was a hot day and the babies are so heavy.’
He cupped my hands in his warm and sturdy ones, so used to fixing things, finding solutions.
‘Maybe we should make plans. Just in case,’ I whispered.
He gave a solemn nod, his eyes darting to mine and away again.
‘You know I’d want Alice to stay with you, of course. But I wouldn’t want you doing everything, you must let Mum help you.’ My voice tangled on the words and I had to repeat them, more slowly.
He nodded silently and wove his fingers through mine.
‘Whatever you think is best. You know if it came to it, I’d take good care of her?’ His lips trembled. ‘I’d never let her forget you… her brave and beautiful mum.’ He buried his face in my hair and sobbed. But I didn’t feel brave at all, just scared.
Chapter Thirty
I spent half the night caressing my bump, whispering to the twins how much I loved them and that soon we would meet each other at last. I tried to settle down and sleep, but the chatter in my mind wouldn’t slow down. Everything that had happened in the last few days, every conversation, re-ran in my mind. Should we have gone to hospital in Brighton, or as soon as we got to Mum’s? What if I had a stroke and couldn’t care for the twins or Alice?
I’d made Steve go home for a rest. I promised to call him if there was any change. He texted to say the cheque had cleared, which was the least of our worries.
My blood pressure still wouldn’t go down. If it didn’t shift soon they were talking about inducing me.
At three in the morning, a nurse and doctor came to check my blood pressure and the babies’ heartbeats. The doctor had been quite chatty, but now she was quiet. At first I guessed it was because it was the middle of the night, but I caught sight of her face which had visibly fallen. A few seconds later, three or four nurses rushed into the room.
‘One twin’s heart rate is dipping and not recovering, Charlotte,’ the doctor said in a low, steady voice, ‘we’re going to deliver your twins now, by C-section. It’s not safe to wait.’
The words swam in my head. Was I dreaming? Had I heard her right?
A nurse smiled at me as she lowered an oxygen mask onto my face. I grabbed her wrist and tried to push her away. I must have fallen asleep. This had to be a nightmare.
‘Come on, Charlotte, this is to make sure the twins are getting enough oxygen.’
The cold seal of the mask startled me. I pulled it off and whimpered,
‘Please call Steve.’
I was wheeled into the operating theatre, where I was lifted onto the table. The anaesthetist asked me to lean forward and curve my back over as best I could. A nurse held my hand. A small poke in the middle of my spine meant the needle was going in.
I soon started to feel tingly and warm in my legs. The nurses helped me to lie down, then applied heart monitor pads to my chest. A catheter was fitted and a small pillow slipped under my right hip so I wasn’t completely flat.
When Steve arrived by my side wearing a gown and mask, hot tears ran down my cheeks. He kissed my forehead.
‘Carly and Dan have got Alice. I called your mum and I finally got through to Brenda. She said they’ll be here as soon as they can. They can’t get a boat or a plane from Orkney until the morning.’
But I wasn’t thinking about any of them. It was me and the twins now and their safe delivery. More nurses and doctors arrived. A spike of pain shot through the side of my head. I groaned and pushed my palm to my temple.
‘We’ll soon be ready, Charlotte, you’re in safe hands,’ the nurse said in a soothing tone. ‘I’m going to wash your abdomen now with an antiseptic solution.’
‘Just got to do this last important bit now,’ Steve said, stroking my hair.
When the nurse finished, she put drapes up across my chest so we couldn’t see what was happening. My breathing became rapid. I wasn’t ready for this. Was I going to die?
‘Can you feel this, Charlotte?’ the surgeon asked.
‘No, what’s that?’
‘I’m pulling the skin on your stomach. Are you sure you can’t feel anything?’
‘Nothing at all.’ I’d never stepped out of a plane before, but I imagined a similar level of trust was needed in the parachute as well as the pilot.
‘Good. I’m going to start the incision. You may feel a little pressure on your abdomen.’
I gripped Steve’s hand as tightly as I could. We fixed on each other’s eyes.
‘Here comes the first one.’
We heard two little yelps like a k
itten. My mouth fell open. Steve looked up. I followed his gaze.
‘Your baby boy, Charlotte.’ The surgeon held the tiny mite above the drapes for a moment, to a collective cheer, before whisking him away to be assessed.
‘Did you see him?’ I cried.
Steve nodded and kissed my face.
Moments later, my crying baby girl was lifted up to another cheer from everyone in the room.
‘She’s got a good set of lungs,’ Steve laughed, his face wet with tears.
‘Your son weighs five pounds one ounce, Charlotte.’ A nurse handed him to me, wrapped in a blanket.
‘Hello, little man.’ I took him in my arms and my heart blossomed. ‘You’re here at last, safe and well.’ I kissed his cheeks and button nose. He felt so light. I couldn’t stop smiling as I gazed at his grey-blue eyes. He blinked up at me as though he recognised me.
‘And your daughter weighs five pounds six ounces,’ the nurse said, bringing her over. ‘Is Daddy going to hold his baby girl?’
Steve glanced at me before putting his arms out. ‘Look at her,’ he said, ‘isn’t she perfect?’
‘They’re both beautiful, aren’t they?’
We held them side by side and my smile wilted into tears.
As soon as I was wheeled into recovery, I had the chance to hold the two of them together. The boy was just big enough not to have to go into special care. The girl cried until her face was deep red. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off her. How on earth was I going to let them go?
‘Are you starting off breastfeeding?’ a nurse asked.
I shook my head. ‘But I’d like to express some milk and bottle-feed them please.’
She went off to find a breast pump. When she came back, she helped me to bottle-feed them as well as dress them and put on their nappies. I didn’t want to miss a single moment of their first few hours, but I was so tired, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Steve went home for a nap too. I woke up three hours later and had a shower and washed my hair. The cut under my stomach seemed a fitting wound for what I’d been through. As if I needed a scar to remind me.
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