by Lea Darragh
‘It’s a long day, isn’t it?’ I turned to see Emmy resting her forearms on the rail beside me. ‘I know I’m bloody spent. How are you?’
I shrugged, fighting not to cry. ‘I’m ok,’ I managed.
‘You know,’ she said. ‘And stop me if this story doesn’t relate to you, but I was alone when I came to Cobblers Cove. I was completely lost, even with friends and a career and what seemed like the whole world at my feet. There was a veil between me and everything else. But, I kept my eyes open. I saw people for who they really were. Even though sometimes they appeared as if they weren’t worth my time, I still gave it. Jack was one of those people.’
I replayed the loved-up scene in the kitchen. ‘Really?’ I said. ‘You and Jack weren’t always so …’
‘In love?’
‘It definitely doesn’t come across that way now.’
‘It took a hell of a lot of work, but we fought hard for what we have.’
Defence hardened my mood. ‘Why do you think that story relates to me?’
‘I’m not sure it does, but you’re here, heavily pregnant, without a date.’ She paused when I physically reacted to the embarrassment. I truly resented my flaming cheeks for betraying the poise I wanted to portray. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. All I’m saying is that even though it seems like a brick wall is ahead of you, it gets easier to break down.’
I glanced back at Brooke who quickly looked away from me. ‘Well that’s just wonderful,’ I said, sarcasm soaked in my tone.
‘What?’
I turned back to Emmy. ‘It’d be helpful if my business could remain my business,’ I said, turning back to Emmy.
‘My friend Aubrey couldn’t stay the hell out of my head when I first met Jack, either, and now I’m grateful for that. I don’t know Josh, but I hear he’s quite a man. Word is that he’s worth the fight.’
I gazed out at the ocean, loving the breeze as it swept over my skin. If what Emmy was saying was true, why was I alone today? ‘I’m not sure I’m built to bounce back time and time again. It’d be nice if I had something solid to reach for instead of having it collapse in my fingers just when I thought I was getting a hold. There’s only so many times I can offer the world to have it thrown back at me.’
Emmy smiled that sunshiny smile. ‘If deep down you truly know that it’s worth it, you’ll keep going until he realises just what he’s giving up.’
I nodded. ‘Maybe I know that, maybe I still need convincing.’
‘Go,’ she said. ‘Find him before it’s too late.’
How could I decline the out she’d just handed me? I thanked Emmy and said a quick goodbye to Brooke before heading out. I called Josh through the car speaker system. No answer. I bypassed his apartment. His car was gone. I skirted past their spot on the beach, but it was overtaken by a game of beach volleyball, the players wearing Santa hats. He wasn’t in the dunes. I didn’t know how to contact Andi, or where anyone else lived. And that was a sign within itself. He was a part of my life. There wasn’t much more to tell, but how much a part of Josh’s life was I?
When I arrived home, I checked my phone. No important notifications. I turned the phone off and left it on the hallstand, and slipped Josh’s unopened gift into the drawer and closed it in. I needed a reset. A bath and sleep. That’s all I could handle right about now.
Chapter 10
It could have been the forty-week hormones, or the fact that the supermarket was out of mince pies (at Christmas! The nerve!), or that I’d ran out of coconut lotion and my belly was now itching like a five-year-old with a lice infestation, but all I knew was that if I didn’t stop crying this very minute, I’d fall too deep into this melancholy, leaving my unborn child to wear the consequences. Dealing with pregnancy was a hard enough task without knowing that every single decision I made from conception would impact the entirety of this new person’s life. Now that the weight of my responsibility grew heavier at the thought, the tears flowed faster, with wrenching sobs I was sure the happy beachgoers couldn’t miss. Here I was ending my already anxiety-ridden day with social humiliation. Great!
It was a humid Boxing Day thanks to last night’s storm, and I stared at the ocean, wishing I was back home looking upon the chilly snow that coated pretty Cornwall streets, or, rugged up and heading to London to meander down Brompton Road to gaze upon the Harrods light display. I was more accustomed to that than hot sandy beaches, even after three years of living here. Had I not have gotten myself into this pregnant predicament I’d be there now, in a gorgeous cottage, bickering with my family over menus and the perfect placements of baubles. Instead, after no word from Josh, I felt utterly alone. Unable to fly. Unable to invite my family here … because then I’d actually have to tell them I was having a baby … without a husband, or a partner for that matter. They’d never understand. Hell, I didn’t even understand how I’d gotten myself into this mess.
I stretched my swollen legs out of their cross-legged position, waiting for my feet to regain sensation, then rolled onto all fours, slowly pushing myself up from the ground. Oh, yes. English refined, just the way I was taught. I cried, quieter this time on account of the young couple who kept sneaking not-so-subtle glances at the beached whale, wondering if they should ask if I was ok, yet not wanting to get involved in the mess that was clearly my life.
‘Bloody hell,’ I grumped between lost breaths. ‘I’m fine, by the way,’ I added despite having begged myself not to get all up their faces about their supple bodies and freedom to do whatever the hell they wanted. I stared at my towel that was still all the way down on the sand. They offered an apology I barely listened to. I wanted to ask them for help now. Why hadn’t I taken the towel with me as I stood? It felt miles away now, and I was searing with resentment from my puffy eyes as I was deciding whether it was worth the gargantuan effort required to pick it up or whether I should just bloody well leave it there.
‘Would you like me to …’ the young woman began, clearly unsure if she should help the unhinged pregnant woman.
I huffed out a short breath because that’s all my bundled-up lungs would allow. I wanted to cry again, at the sincere kindness, but I sighed instead, giving in to reason. ‘That would be great, thank you.’
The woman jumped up in a flash and grabbed the towel. ‘You’re from the UK?’ she said as she gently flicked the sand from it and folded it up.
‘Cornwall.’
‘Wow. I love your accent. Are you planning to stay in Australia?’
‘For now.’
‘I’d highly recommend it, for the beaches alone. I’ve been to Cornwall. Spent some time in London. Beautiful countryside, but I missed the sand.’
I stared at the young woman, my stomach getting heavier and heavier: When am I getting my towel back?
‘Oh. There you go,’ she said, finally handing it over. Turns out I actually said the words aloud; I clenched my jaw to stop me from making a further arse of myself.
‘I’m sorry. I’m in a mood.’
The woman flicked a dismissive hand. ‘Don’t worry about it. How far along are you?’
A snort. ‘About four years.’
‘Oh,’ the woman laughed. ‘A friend of mine has two kids. She said the last few weeks are the hardest. Apparently they do the most growing in that time. She got so exhausted … and cranky. Really put me off having kids,’ she laughed again, but then sobered as I squinted at her, not an inch of humour in my stare. ‘But once it’s over, it’s over, and the real fun can begin,’ she added, trying to lighten the moment.
‘Yes, because nothing is more fun than night feeds and bleeding nipples and poo explosions. Oh! And let’s not forget the constipation I’ve been reading about and healing from episiotomies,’ I continued my sarcasm-soaked rant. ‘Plus! I’m a strong independent thirty-year-old whose chances of motherhood are dissipating every year, so I go ahead and warrior my way through an entire pregnancy, but I discover when push comes to shove that really I’m weak
and terrified of the whole bloody thing.’
A prickling silence followed the rant, then the woman offered a smile. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked. ‘Can we call someone for you?’
I sucked in a deep breath, then slowly released it. ‘No, thank you.’
I scratched at my belly beneath my linen beach dress, getting two hands involved when the itch spread across my taut skin. The woman stood, handing a tube to me.
‘It’s coconut lotion. My friend used this every day during her pregnancies. She said it helped with the …’ she nodded toward the burgeoning belly.
I took the tube, fresh tears floating down my face. ‘Thank you. I’ve just run out and of course I forgot to get more at the shops.’
‘Are you sure we can’t call anyone for you?’
She shook her head. ‘There’s no one to call.’
‘Oh, ok,’ the woman said as I tossed the towel over my shoulder and contorted my body to reach down for my bag.
‘Thanks for your help. I’m sorry I ruined your afternoon.’
The woman giggled. ‘Not ruined at all. I think you’re amazing for growing a brand new life in there. And even though I probably won’t ever do it, it’s only because I know how hard it would be. But here you are, almost at the end and about to meet your son or daughter, and at Christmas no less. A magical time of the year.’
For a fleeting second, I felt the rush of excitement in the woman’s words. Was she right? Would this be the magical moment I’d been waiting my whole pregnancy to feel? I waited for it to sink in, but just as quickly as the adrenaline coursed through my veins, it dissipated, allowing loneliness to settle back in.
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ I said as I began to walk away. ‘Bye, then.’
‘Bye!’ the woman called back. ‘Good luck with everything.’
I waved behind me as I made my way up the dunes and onto the boardwalk. My feet ached as I slipped into the thongs, looking both ways as I approached the busy esplanade. Gearing up for New Year’s, crowds were growing, pulsing, stealing away the normally peaceful seaside town. Beachfront accommodation was filling up. I missed the calming sound of the ocean already. It was being drowned out by cars and festive cheer. The clinking of glasses and carols dancing in the air emanating from open-plan bars and cafés almost overtook the squawking seagulls. Almost. I glanced to my left as I waited on the kerb, watching as a family tried in vain to save their fish and chips from a desperate flock of white and grey. I sighed, placing a hand on my belly as I focused on the road again. In two weeks it would be quiet again, and in peace, a new solo adventure could begin.
I was almost home, walking along a quiet road when intense pain hit, liquid trickling down my leg. I managed to shuffle over beneath the shade of a tree, leaning a hand on it as I fumbled around in my bag for my phone.
‘Olivia?’
I shot my attention up to see Andi running down the road. ‘Are you ok?’ she said as she ran faster, looking down at the puddle I’d left on the ground. I searched around in my bag some more. Where the hell was it?
‘Shit,’ I cursed. ‘I don’t have my phone.’
‘It’s ok. I’ll call Josh.’
‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘Please don’t. I haven’t heard from him for days. I’m not sure he wants this.’
‘That shithead,’ Andi spat. ‘I told him to keep in touch.’
I gripped the tree, squeezing my eyes closed against the pain. ‘We can’t force him.’
‘He’s a stubborn mule sometimes. Olivia,’ she said and paused. ‘Pete passed away on Christmas Eve.’
Blood drained from my face. I stared at her. ‘What?’
‘Josh’s struggling with it. He’s feeling lost, but I told him to call you. Like all of us, he needs his people around him.’
Another pain vice-gripped my belly. I breathed through it. Andi held me as upright as she could, but I was a buckling, jelly mess.
‘Let’s get you to the hospital, hey? I’ll call Josh when we get there.’
She helped me home and grabbed my hospital bag as I waited in the car.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve driven, so apologies in advance,’ Andi said as she turned on the ignition. I held onto the door and the middle console, wide-eyed as I stared at her.
‘You have a licence though? You know how to drive?’
She gave me a cheesy grin as she put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. ‘Yes to the first, and surely it’s like riding a bike to the second.’
Oh lord. ‘I’m going to close my eyes. Just please get me there in one piece.’
Out on the street, she threw the car into first gear, and off we went. ‘Sure thing, sis.’ Sis? Another contraction took my breath, but all I could think about was what Andi had called me. ‘Oh! I called Josh when I was getting your bag. He didn’t pick up, but I left a message.’
Pain subsided enough so I could speak. ‘I’m starting to think I’m wasting my time with him,’ I said. ‘We’re supposed to be partners. It’s new, but I at least expect him to call me when he’s going through something, not ignore me. A quick check-in isn’t too much to ask?’
‘It’s not too much to ask,’ Andi agreed. ‘He’s a bloody mess though, if that helps, and he’s not great at dealing with trauma.’
‘Because of what your parents did?’
‘He told you about that?’ she said, surprise in her tone.
‘He took me to the dunes. Which is why I can’t understand why he wouldn’t reach out to me after Pete.’ I gripped the doorhandle as another contraction began to ramp up.
‘Are you ok?’ Andi said.
‘Uh-huh,’ I breathed.
‘Almost there.’
It eased, and I exhaled a slow breath. ‘I thought we were opening up, but maybe we’re not.’
Andi pulled into the hospital car park and found a spot close to the doors. She turned the car off and shifted to face me, locking her eyes on mine. ‘Josh has never ever introduced a girlfriend to our group. He’s never spoken about our parents to anyone outside of his closest friends, and even then, he’s closed off. The fact that he told you, and that you accepted him despite his opinion that he’s not worthy of that, speaks more volume to me than him not calling you after losing his closest friend. I wish he had, don’t get me wrong,’ she added when I shook my head. ‘I truly wish he had, and I understand why you’d be hurt by that, but please don’t stop fighting for him. You’re the best thing he could ever dare to ask for. He’d be more pissed off than you if he let what you have slip between his fingers.’
‘I’ll try,’ I said. She reached for my hand when another contraction began. ‘Will you stay with me? I can’t do this alone.’
‘Of course, honey.’
With my bag tossed over her shoulder, Andi helped me out of the car. We checked in. I was monitored and then unhooked, allowed to labour untethered, which I didn’t like. What if the baby’s heart stopped and they didn’t know it? What if my body wasn’t doing what it was supposed to? What if my heart started to feel the stress? What if … I squeezed my eyes closed as Andi tied up the back of my gown.
‘You’re shaking?’ she said as she turned me around, finding my eyes. ‘Oh shit, Olivia,’ she added as she pulled me into her arms. I sobbed, pain ripping through me, and I thought I’d never get my breath back. ‘Deep breaths,’ she said, demonstrating, drawing a deep breath in, and then slowly letting it out.
I followed as she led, our eyes locked, my hands firmly in hers. ‘I’m so scared, Andi,’ I whispered.
‘Me too, honey. But also so bloody excited,’ she added, her joy evident in the spark of her eyes. ‘You’re about to have a baby. I bet this hurts like hell, but afterwards, you’ll have a son or a daughter.’
I nodded because what else could I do? Andi didn’t know where my fear stemmed from, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe a neutral partner was what I needed to get me through this.
‘You’re right,’ I agreed, wiping m
y face. ‘Thank you.’
‘Good, ok,’ Andi said, letting me go and retrieving an exercise ball from the corner. ‘Come sit. The midwife said this would help.’
I did as I was told, holding onto Andi’s hands while I adjusted to a comfortable, balanced position. ‘It actually feels really good,’ I said, gently rolling my hips.
Andi sat close, but on the edge of the bed. ‘See? You’ve got this.’
I remembered to breathe, to settle into the labour. Yeah, I could do this. We both turned when the door opened. Josh poked his head around the corner.
‘Hi,’ he said—a tentative greeting, testing the waters maybe. ‘Can I come in,’ he added when neither of us spoke.
I nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘Andi,’ he said with a nod when he closed the door behind him.
She stood and hugged her brother. ‘About time you got here.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed, but was looking at me.
Andi pulled back. ‘You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.’
I gripped my thighs as another contraction clenched my insides. Josh dropped to his knees before me. ‘What can I do?’
I couldn’t answer. I squeezed my eyes closed. He tucked the hair hanging over my face behind my ears. After a couple of minutes the pain eased and I could breathe again.
‘Here,’ Josh said as he stood. He lifted a scrunchie from my wrist and tied my hair into a topknot. ‘All set,’ he said.
‘A big one,’ Andi said. ‘Hopefully it’s not long now.’
‘Geez, I hope you’re right.’
A midwife knocked lightly on the door as she opened it. ‘How’s our mum-to-be?’ she said, chirpy as a bird as she came in. ‘Progressing?’
‘She just had a big contraction,’ Josh said. ‘About three minutes.’
‘Oh good, Josh?’ she said as she read my chart.
Josh reached out his hand. ‘Yes. Nice to meet you.’
‘And you too. Are you ready to have this baby?’