Mind you, I don’t think I could sleep any better at home anyway. Apart from the circus in here, I can’t help going over my phone call to Ric earlier on. It took so long for anyone to get hold of him. He mustn’t have been in contact with Rachel at all because I got the message that Rosie was tucked up in Rachel’s spare bed when I came back up to the ward, about half past seven. That’s not like Ric; he always rings my mobile to say goodnight to her when he’s cooking all evening. And if he knew what was going on, he’d have been straight to pick her up. I reckon it must have been about eight when I checked my phone again and there was nothing.
What I can’t stop thinking about - and maybe it’s just me going stir crazy in here - is that when I eventually got through to him on the pay phone the nurse wheeled through, it was Jeanette who answered. Why would she be answering his phone? Surely she’d be busy serving out in the restaurant rather than in the kitchen where Ric keeps his stuff? I don’t know. Maybe she had to step in and help wash dishes or something and he asked her to get it while he was busy; she does always seem keen to please when I’ve seen her.
But then when I re-play it over in my head, as she passed the phone over to Ric, I couldn’t hear the usual background noise of the restaurant: the brash Italian music and the chattering of the diners. And Ric seemed to be there really quickly, like he’d grabbed the phone off her or something. And come to think of it, there were no kitchen noises either; usually it’s hard to hear him above the clattering of pans and shouting of orders. But tonight, he was really clear and I was able to tell him everything without repeating myself. It was all far too quiet.
I hate the road down which this dark, paranoia is taking me. He wouldn’t, would he? Jeanette’s just a girl. She’s in her final year at Uni so she can’t be more than about twenty, I suppose. Didn’t stop him with that young waitress last time though. I was so stupid back then. I still can’t believe I didn’t see that one coming. All of those late nights and extra shifts he was ‘working’ when old Fabio owned the restaurant, which all fitted into place once I found out. I still feel sick when I think about her ‘girly chats’ every time I went in. I swore I’d never be humiliated like that again.
But I suppose that was before we were married and had Rosie and I truly believed him when he promised it would never happen again. He can’t be up to old tricks again. Why is my mind doing this to me? No-one would be that cruel after what’s happened the last few weeks.
Maybe that’s why he’s done it. Because I’ve been so miserable. Let’s face it, I haven’t been much fun to be around, physically or emotionally. But then, who would be? He should’ve been there for me, ‘in sickness and in health, for better for worse’ and all that, not running around after young girls who flutter their eyes at him.
Listen to me, I’m thinking like he’s already done something wrong when I’ve got no real proof, only suspicions. I’ve got to concentrate on getting some rest, getting better and getting out of here.
Ric did come to the hospital eventually, I suppose and when the nurses said he really must go, he promised he’ll be here first thing in the morning to collect me and this will all be a middle-of-the-night blur. After all, he did apologise for being off radar. I was right, he’d been at the suppliers and I can totally understand how, after that, the Valentines’ rush had been so busy he’d lost track of time. I’m doing him a disservice thinking he’d have time to be up to no good, poor man. He works so hard for us. I think it was best to leave all the gory details of my operation until tomorrow; he’d only worry.
Perhaps reading these leaflets the nurse left for me will send me off to sleep. I’m glad they gave me general anaesthetic; I don’t think I’d have wanted to go through that while awake, even if I couldn’t feel anything. At least I know my foetus had already passed and it was just the rest of the conception tissue they were removing. Imagine the poor women who have to watch a doctor take that out. It was bad enough seeing it in private. I wonder what they do with it.
I never did tell Ric that I buried ours in the garden under a rose bush. I felt a bit silly but at the time, it felt like the right thing to do. Every Spring, when those beautiful flowers blossom, I’ll remember. I’ll remember my baby who was never meant to be, who was too good for us down here and went straight back up to Heaven.
What’s this bit on the back of the leaflet? ‘Rare risks and complications’. The nurse didn’t mention much about this; it sounds quite scary, ‘weakening of the cervix ... puncturing and scarring of the uterus ... possible infertility’. I know it says ‘rare’ but it must have happened to someone for them to bother putting it on the leaflet. What if they’ve damaged me and I can’t have any more children?
I mean, I know I’ve been afraid of going through all this again and I was half thinking we just call it a day and content ourselves with Rosie. But if the option was taken out of my hands? I don’t think I could bare being infertile. I grew up an only child and I know they say that you don’t miss what you never had but I don’t want that for Rosie. I must give her a play mate, a sparring partner! I do want another baby. Definitely. I know they say to wait a couple of menstrual cycles but what would be the harm in trying before then? I hope and pray that I haven’t suffered any damage today and that everything is in good working order.
I must ask the nurse more about it. I’ll wait until the morning though or I’ll end up just as bad as Moaning Minnie over there. For now, I’ll get some sleep before Ric brings my little ray of sunshine to me in the morning.
SHANNON
So this is my new ’ome now then. It’s not perfect but anythin’s gotta be better than livin’ with those two harpin’ on at each other. I thought it was just Rob who’s a freak but she’s just as bad now. She couldn’t get my bags packed quick enough this mornin’ so that he’d stay. Here’s me crappin’ myself about tellin’ ’em I was comin’ to live wi’ Rhys. I thought they’d chuck another bennie but no, it’s like, okay, Shannon, that’s probably for the best. I’ll miss Jack really badly though. It’ll be proper weird when he’s not jumpin’ on my bed to wake me up in the mornin’. I hope they’ll be alright with me if I go round to see him now and again. I won’t be goin’ round to see them though, that’s for certain. I’ve ’ad it with ’em. From now on, Rhys is my family. Jus’ me and ’im.
It’ll be a bit like bein’ on ’oliday really, except without sunny weather and bein’ off school. But the rain on the roof window an’ the smell of the gas being lit in the kitchen bit is jus’ like when we went to Carmarthen Bay with Gran that time.
An’ after all, it’s dead nice of Rhys’s mam to let us ’ave the caravan in the garden. I mean I totally understand when she said there wasn’t room to swing a cat in ’er ’ouse and what did we think she was the Salvation Bloody Army. There are a lot o’ them like. I didn’t know ’er fella an’ ’is kids was livin’ there too. She did say I wasn’t to mention that to anyone though. As far as anyone else needs know, she said pointin’ ’er finger at me, they’re just over visitin’ for the day. Now ’is kids can ’ave Rhys’s room on weekends instead of sleepin’ bags in the front room. They’re all dead nice though. Thomas, the one in Year 11, carried my bag in and put a bog roll in the caravan loo for me. And ’is mam told me to tell ’er if I get any shit off Suzie the slag from the chippy ’cos ’er best mate’s husband was shaggin’ ’er last year too.
Actually it’s well sick bein’ in ’ere instead of a house ’cos we can come in any time we want, eat what we want and there’ll be no-one to make us tidy up or anythin’. It’ll feel well grown up sleepin’ in the same bed as Rhys. We’ll defo be doin’ it now. Can’t wait to tell my mates about this on Monday. It’s a shame I couldn’t carry my laptop as well as all my bags and I’m buggered if I’m goin’ back for it yet. I can’t even text anyone or nothin’ ’cos I ’aven’t got no money to get any credit.
Oh well, Rhys’ll be back from work soon. I ’ope they were alright with ’im for bein’ late this mornin�
��. Once he tells ’em he was rescuin’ his girlfriend from the worst parents in the entire universe, I’m sure they’ll understand. Think he finishes at four so he shouldn’t be long now. Best not be ’cos I’ve read all the Bella magazine Rhys’s mam gave me. There sure is some shit in there. I can’t believe how weird some people’s families are. Especially the one where that mam and daughter fell out and didn’t speak for like twenty years or somethin’. How stupid is that? I’ll never do that to my daughter when I ’ave one. And that woman who chucked ’er son out on the streets to live like a tramp ’cos he’d done a bit of weed or somethin’. Some grown ups are so unreasonable. As Howden says in assembly, we’ve all got to do a bit of forgivin’ and forgettin’.
I suppose I could make a cup of tea or somethin’ with that kettle in the kitchen. It looks a bit mingin’, especially on the inside. What’s that furry stuff at the bottom? Best not to look at that too closely. Doesn’t boilin’ water kill germs or somethin’? I’m sure I saw some teabags in one o’ the cupboards when I was havin’ a poke around earlier. There we go. Ooh, half a packet of digestives too. Yuck, they’re a bit soggy. I’ll leave them ’til my tea’s ready and dunk them. Then they’ll be soggy anyway. This is the life. Right. Where’s the milk? Fridge, where are you? Ah, there’s nothin’ in it. It’s turned off anyway. And there’s no plug on the end of the wire. Don’t suppose they’d keep milk in ’ere anyway really. Rhys’s mam did say it was two long years since they’d managed to get this monstrosity away for an ’oliday.
It’s not a monstrosity really. From the outside, it does look a bit mashed up. But once those bricks are taken away and the wheel’s put back on, it’ll be more on a level. You don’t even really notice it from inside. Except when you’re on the loo. That felt well weird when I went earlier on. Maybe I could ask Rhys’s mam for some cleaning stuff actually ’cos I don’t think it’s been done since the two long years ago when they had an ’oliday. Rhys said ’is mam sends ’er fella out ’ere for a shit when he’s had a curry too. You can tell.
And everythin’ else is alright. The nets at the windows give us a bit o’ privacy an’ the sofa’s all squashy so we’ll be nice and cosy when we sit down to watch telly. Rhys says he can fix that by bendin’ a coat hanger for an aerial. His mam’s bringin’ some beddin’ over later and she said not to look at the mattresses until she does so I’ve not been in there yet.
This black tea’s a bit funny like but it’ll ’ave to do. I don’t feel like I can go an’ ask for any milk, since they’ve been so kind to me already. I suppose I could go down the shops and get some. But then I’d run the risk of seeing fake bake chippy slag and being forced to smash ’er face in. An’ anyway, I haven’t got no money. Hope Rhys’s got some or we’ll not get any tea. His mam said that if we was livin’ independent we’d have to cook independent. I think she was jokin’ when she said we’d last a week. We’ll be fine in ‘ere. Just as long as Rhys goes down for the chips.
SARAH
Dear Lord,
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to you like this but I can’t wait until church tomorrow morning and I really need your help and guidance.
I knew, as soon as I saw her on the doorstep yesterday afternoon, who she was. Call it a lucky guess or instinct, I just knew. She looks a bit like me too, so maybe that was it. She didn’t have to ask whether she’d found the right person either because, as we both stood, frozen to earth beneath us, she simply clarified, ‘Sarah Brown?’.
I nodded, glanced back to make sure Tim had driven out of the street, walked past her and opened the door. We both stepped into the hallway and there was silence. There was so much for both of us to say and yet neither of us knew where to start.
“I’m Ellie,” she finally declared.
“Oh, I always wondered what they ...” I mumbled back.
“Do you know who I am?”
I nodded again. Of course I knew. She couldn’t be anyone else. In a strange kind of way, this young woman didn’t look all that different to the last time I’d seen her. The seeds of that dark, tightly curled hair had already been sewn and her blue, almond eyes had only darkened in colour over the years. In all my dreams, this is exactly what she’d looked like. Perhaps the manifestation was even more beautiful than my visions.
“Yes I do,” I glanced up at the ceiling to avoid the tears which were welling in my heart. Lord, I had waited for this moment for so long, scripted it in my imagination even. And now it had come, I didn’t know what to say. “But I always thought that if you wanted to find me, an agency would contact me first. I’m shocked, I suppose. Listen to me babbling; I just don’t know what to say first. How are you? Even that sounds silly! You must have so many questions …” I stopped there for fear of her thinking I was a complete idiot. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her and never let her go again.
With clearly a lot less emotion than I felt, she replied, “I managed to avoid all that red tape by getting your details off the computer when the Liaison Officer went out of the room for a moment. After that, a bit of internet searching wasn’t difficult. You can find anyone you want these days.”
“Well, you’d better come in,” I managed and took her through to the lounge. We sat down and I got a closer look at her small flat ears and dimpled chin, neither of which have changed since the day I’d imprinted them on my memory either. I remember weeping as they finally took her from me, telling me that a lovely young couple were all lined up give her a wonderful life because they weren’t fortunate enough to be able to have their own children. How ironic life can turn that eighteen years later, I am that woman who can’t seem to have a family of my own. And here, sitting in front of me, was my one shot, my one chance to be a mother, which I gave away to a stranger. She is the sin for which I have been cursed and punished all my married life.
“What it is,” Ellie spoke in a in a very matter-of-fact, determined way. She reminded me of myself at a similar age, when I told my parents of my plight and how I would be able to ‘get rid of it’ if they took me down to a clinic the nurse had recommended. I was unsuccessful in my plan, as they told me that under no circumstances would a good Catholic girl be involved in such murderous activity. No, we would not talk about it again and provision would be made for the child when the time arrived. That, Lord, was the beginning of my dark days. I could not understand how a loving God would want to see such misery and suffering. And as you know, it took me a long time to come back to you and repent of my deeds.
“What it is,” she repeated and I could see that she had come here with an agenda much more than just meeting her birth mother, “is that, well, I’m looking for my siblings. I would like to meet the family you went on to have.”
“Oh,” I was puzzled at this stage and couldn’t see what could possibly be more important than explaining why I was forced to give her away. “I, er, never had any more children, Ellie,” I confessed.
The disappointment in her face was obvious and I tried hard to understand why, “But I have to say, I’m so glad you tracked me down. You’ve no idea how much I’ve always prayed you’d come to find me when you were old enough,” I blurted out.
“Well, there you go. I’m here; this is me!” she mustered half a smile and her young age was revealed with her sudden change of heart, “But I won’t trouble you any longer. I’ll be off.” With that, she gathered her bag from the floor and headed for the door.
“Won’t you stay a bit longer and tell me a bit more about yourself,” I pleaded, “I mean it seems a shame that you went to all this effort for ten minutes.”
I could see that this was not how Ellie had rehearsed our moment either. She, too, was no-longer the stoic girl that had introduced herself ten minutes earlier. Rather she was becoming increasingly tearful. With all my heart, I wanted to throw my arms around my baby girl and make her see how much I’d missed her, how much I’d regretted letting them take her away from me and most of all, how much I’d thought a
bout her every moment of every day of the last eighteen years.
But I knew I’d foregone that privilege a long time ago. After all, how was a teenager to understand the pressure I’d been under and what life would have been like for me had I chosen to defy my parents? For all my regrets, I had been given no alternative. And when the day came, and the love a mother has for her newborn child was thrust upon me, I knew that I only had one option. How could I subject this heavenly being to a life of struggle with a single parent, who was all but a child herself, when there were people who could provide all that she deserved. Immediately, I loved her too much.
Lord, if this wasn’t difficult enough, what Ellie said next will remain with me forever. She faced me and looked me straight in the eye and said, “Well, if I don’t have any brothers or sisters, then there’s no point in hanging around. I’m done for. It’s hopeless.”
“Nothing is ever hopeless, Ellie, what do you mean?” I tried to calm her growing anxiety.
She laughed at me. “What would you know?” she retorted, “Have you ever stared at death down the barrel of a loaded gun?”
There was no leaving after that so we went back into the lounge, sat down again and Ellie composed herself. She explained that she is ill.
“I’ve got Chronic myelogeneous leukaemia,” she began, “which means that I have an increase of white blood cells which..”
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