by kendra Smith
Dawn shifted in her seat awkwardly. Felix was getting his medal today. He’d been in the Adventure Cadets for two years now – a club run after school for aspiring Royal Marines who were still nine. He had achieved the highest badge for ‘Best Packed Rucksack’ on his recent overnight camping trip. She waved as he walked past and she noticed him pulling his shoulders back proudly when he shook the headmistress’s hand. He smiled nervously as he had to stand up at the front for the rest of the assembly, his straight blond hair hiding his eyes, his lanky frame reminding her of Eric.
Dawn looked around at the chapel, at the light flooding in from outside through the stained glass. She stared at the iconic images of Jesus and Mary; how serene they were. Had Mary had any midlife issues? A muffin top appearing that she didn’t want? There were tiny angels on the end of each pew; they seemed to be staring straight at her.
‘Your boy’s done well.’ Victoria turned around, swishing her ponytail, narrowly missing Dawn’s cheek. ‘My Henry got his badge in just eight months! I was just saying to Antonia how amusing you were last Friday!’
I hate that woman. Dawn plastered a smile on her lips, as her cheeks burned. She looked down at her hands clasped tightly together as a little boy said a prayer.
She’d never made any proper friends at the school, nobody on a par with Suzie, or even – all those years ago – Lucy. Looking at the stained-glass windows reminded Dawn of Lucy’s funeral, the freesias. She could almost smell them. Dear Lucy. It was all so sad. She’d been quite a bit older than her, but it hadn’t mattered, and her poor husband Dan – was he still in South America, working for that charity? She must look on Facebook again. It had all been so tragic, all those years ago. She hoped he’d found happiness elsewhere.
She looked at the rainbow of light streaming in from the stained-glass window. She missed her friend more than she realised. Someone who hadn’t taken life too seriously. Not like the Baking Queens. Nothing like any of the Baking Queens at this school…
18
Suzie
Suzie sat in the bath and let the bubbles reach up around her neck. She felt the back of her hair get damp and knew this would mean another blow-dry. She almost didn’t care. She’d just had yet another argument with Rex. They were rowing all the time at the moment. Raised voices, curt phone calls. She supposed going behind his back with the whole Charlie and surrogate thing hadn’t helped. Maybe he’d managed to put the pain of being childless further behind him than she realised and she was stirring up old wounds that he couldn’t face.
After all, Rex had another outlet, his work, to prove his masculinity. What did she have to prove her femininity? Her sense of being a woman? If anything, at work she needed balls, not boobs to get a job done. Period? Get over it and take Nurofen. Breastfeeding? Express your milk and get back to the boardroom. Back to sales targets and delivering their promises across ‘multiple platforms’.
How did women do it? She hadn’t discussed that with Rex yet. As far as he was concerned his career-loving wife would be the perfect Supermum with a career and a baby. She shuddered. No, no, no.
She was only doing so well at Mocha Magazines precisely because she didn’t have any kids – or so she imagined. She could see the stress her colleagues were under: another missed Sports Day; another frantic phone call to the au pair about something at home, hushed in a corner at the office. She felt sorry for and jealous of these women in equal measure. Her boss Annie was pretty harsh with them.
‘Suzie?’ Rex was peering around the door, a white towel in his hand.
‘Sorry about earlier, work’s just really stressful at the moment and they’re starting to investigate—’
A sob left her chest and suddenly she burst into tears.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I just want us to stop arguing…’ she sniffed. Rex came over to her, sat on the edge of the bath and started stroking her hair. It felt wonderful to have him touch her gently, especially after the rough sex last time. It eased away the stress as he rubbed soap on her back and then drew little circles. ‘C’mon, let’s play that game, sweetheart, OK?’
‘What game?’ she murmured with her eyes shut.
‘You know, where I draw a number or a letter on your back and you guess what it is…’
Suzie felt her shoulders relax. When he was at home, when they weren’t fighting about IVF, when he wasn’t at work, it was magic. They played the game for a while; she deliberately got a few wrong so that she could enjoy more of a back massage. It felt good.
‘Look, Suzie,’ Rex finally said, rubbing her back, ‘I know this isn’t the best time, but I need to talk to you. This baby thing, we might have a problem.’
She turned around so violently, water splashed out the bath. ‘What problem?’
‘Have you heard of Libor?’ he said grabbing a towel and rubbing his wet trousers.
Yes, she certainly had heard of Libor, read about yet another banker who was being investigated for it in the Standard on the way home yesterday, but it was a while ago and they were only just catching up with him now.
‘What’s that got to do with you? The Libor problems were ages ago.’ She began to shiver.
‘I know, but they are doing an investigation on everyone who could have had something to do with it. Everyone.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ he said slowly, shifting his position on the edge of the bath, ‘that I’m totally and utterly innocent, Suzie, but the company want blood, they want to make some pay cuts, make some people leave early, that sort of thing. That’s not official, of course, but the FCA – the Financial Conduct Authority - are all over the company like a rash.’
‘You’re not serious?’
‘I’ve never been more serious – and it might be escalated to the Serious Fraud Office.’ She looked into his green eyes and saw quiet resignation.
‘And it means they want us suspended until the investigation is finished. I won’t know if I’m affected till Monday.’
‘But you’re innocent!’
‘I know I am,’ he said twisting the towel in his hands, ‘but they have to prove it. It’s almost like I’m guilty until proven innocent. They want scapegoats, Suzie, they need to lose a few people and this is a perfect excuse.’
‘You might lose your job?’ The reality of what he was saying was sinking in.
‘Yes, so I really don’t know if we can go ahead with this surrogacy.’
It was as if he was talking about buying a car – ‘this surrogacy’ instead of their life, their possible family.
‘What did you promise her – £20,000? Suzie?’
She swallowed. It wasn’t the time to tell him that she had upped it to £25,000 to really seal the deal with Charlie.
‘You’d better talk to Charlie and tell her it might be off for the moment.’
Suzie’s heart missed a beat as Rex slowly got up and walked out the bathroom, leaving his wet towel on the floor. What just happened? How could she be so close – and yet so far?
19
Dawn
‘Hello, darling! I’ve come to stay for a bit!’
Joyce, Dawn’s mother-in-law, was standing in her doorway clutching an overnight bag and her aqua blue raincoat. A taxi was just pulling away in the drive. Dawn stood, holding a yellow duster in her hand with her mouth open.
‘Joyce, how lovely; what made you—’
‘Well – it’s Christmas next month so I was wondering when I’d get my invite! No, only kidding.’ She laughed, flicking invisible dust off her shoulder. ‘I thought I’d come for a while, go home and then back for Christmas. What do you think?’
Dawn thought it was most odd. No smoke without a fire. Joyce never came to visit for any length of time – she criticised everything from Dawn’s teacups to where she kept her spatulas. An overnight stay was normally enough for her.
Joyce brushed past her and wiped her feet purposefully on the mat. ‘Actually, Eric’s gone a bit off, a bit quiet – yo
u know, when he doesn’t phone every week – and so I thought I’d come and stay. See what you two were up to! Get to actually speak to my son in person!’
Off?
Joyce leant in. ‘He’s a bit quiet, Dawn. Something’s always going on when he’s quiet. You know, like when you two first got together… I remember!’ She winked at Dawn. ‘But that was good quiet. I don’t like this.’
Dawn could still feel about eighteen in front of her mother-in-law. It was like having Hyacinth Bucket on speed staying with you – no, make that Hyacinth Bucket on speed with a bit of a hearing problem. ‘You two out in the garden shed! He had such a twinkle in his eye when he told me he’d been “planting seeds” – how funny – anyway, he went all quiet then, too.’
Dawn blushed.
‘I know my boy!’ quipped Joyce, as she placed her overnight bag with a thud at the foot of the stairs.
As Dawn led her mother-in-law into the lounge that little niggle that had been growing in her heart lately, the one that had woken her a few times at night, made her look across at Eric, at her steady, rock-solid Eric. It had made her wonder what he was up to. The same niggle that had her checking his pockets when she did the laundry, telling herself that yes, she usually would check all his pockets. She plumped up the cushions with quite a thump for Joyce as she approached the sofa.
‘Oh lovely, Dawn, I’ll just have a sit-down. Been a long journey,’ she sighed and sat down heavily on the silk cushions. ‘That taxi fare from the station’s gone up again! Oh, your windowsills are looking a bit dirty,’ she said as she scrunched up her nose and turned her head. ‘Better get that sorted before Christmas, hadn’t you, dear?’
Dawn marched out the room before there was any more criticism – and any more thoughts about what her husband was up to behind her back. ‘Tea?’ she shouted behind her.
‘What, darling? Oh yes, lovely. Mind you don’t give me any of those chipped mugs. Or those darling ones your children make at pottery classes at school – very sweet, but they’re awfully chunky – like drinking out of a soup bowl. You know I prefer it in a bone china one if you have it, love,’ she shouted back.
That’s all I need. I’m just trying to repair things with Eric, and here comes my mother-in-law with her tell-it-like-it-is approach to life, just to mix things up. What on earth do they say about that, on the Do it Before Fifty website?
She strode over to the fridge, but before she opened the door she stopped in her tracks at a picture of her and Lucy stuck to the front under a hedgehog magnet. It had been buried under a few of the children for a while, but it had moved, and was in full view. Eric had taken it. It had perfectly captured the moment. The wisteria was in full bloom that year, its billowing purple petals dancing around their heads.
Darling Lucy. She’d always said to Dawn that she’d felt like she’d met a kindred spirit in Chesterbrook, another woman who wasn’t into competitive house decorating, or the latest designer handbag – someone who would have intellectually given the Baking Queens a run for their money. Dawn smiled. Lucy would have been able to floor the lot of them with one comment. She’d been someone who could have a proper belly laugh at the gym. Lucy would have howled with laughter at the No-Knickers Challenge. In the photo, they’d been celebrating some client success of Lucy’s, champagne in hand – there were always so many; she was fiercely competitive at work – and Dawn would smile and cheer her on. Lucy would have laughed and nudged her in the ribs right now at Joyce. Who cares about windowsills? she would have said.
It was so awful after she died. Dan had moved away, far away. You couldn’t get much farther than South America. She couldn’t blame him. Who’d want to try to carry on here with constant reminders of your wife everywhere? She remembered the many late-night confessionals she and Lucy used to have over too many Sauvignon Blancs – and Lucy’s biggest revelation to them all: her ‘toy boy’ boyfriend after all her years on her own. Set the town gossips’ tongues wagging, that did.
‘Gosh, how long does it take to have a cup of tea around here?’ boomed Joyce, startling Dawn as she finally opened the fridge and reached for the milk. Joyce swiped a tea towel off the rail as Dawn closed the fridge. Joyce started to dry some dishes from the draining board, before placing them neatly on the kitchen table and then she folded the tea towel next to them.
Dawn couldn’t stand it when she folded tea towels. What was the point of that?
20
Suzie
It had only taken fifty minutes to get to the clinic in Southampton. The roads had been empty and Suzie drove down a few back streets looking for a parking spot away from the clinic. It was busier now they were in the heart of Southampton, but she finally found a parking spot down a side road. They couldn’t be seen coming together – they weren’t meant to know each other. Her nerves were already a mess. She hoped she could pull this off. She and Charlie hadn’t spoken much on the way down apart from the odd polite comment about the traffic. It was important that they acted like they hadn’t met. Suzie was going to go in a few minutes after her.
Charlie left the car first and Suzie sat there for a good ten minutes so there was no chance of being spotted together. She flipped down her visor and checked her make-up in the mirror. Everything was in order. Taking a deep breath, she opened the car door, slammed it shut and stood in the drizzly rain.
When she walked inside the clinic it was beautifully quiet, like a first-class lounge at an airport – an oasis of calm amidst the bustle of the shoppers outside. Suzie noticed how clean it was – perfect, it was ticking all her boxes.
The receptionist asked her to wait there and told her it would only be a minute. After a few moments a woman in a light grey dress, bright red lipstick and huge silver necklace stood in front of her. She smiled. ‘I’m Liz, the manager here; please follow me. You’ll be delighted to know your surrogate, Charlie, is already here.’ She led Suzie down a long corridor to a large, airy room, decorated with two huge silver lamps and a leather sofa.
‘Take a seat, Ms Havilland. I’ll be right back.’
There was a faint antiseptic smell in the room. The place looked like the film set of a movie set in space: clean, clinical, not of this world. Suzie realised her fists were clenched. Did all these trappings: clean surfaces, glass furniture and impossibly slim, beautiful receptionists mean that they knew what they were doing? As if in confirmation, she spotted some black-and-white framed prints of babies on the wall: dark-haired, blonde, all naked from the waist up, some laughing, a newborn with its eyes closed. Some in nappies, some naked. They were gorgeous.
The door opened and in came Liz and Charlie. ‘Ms Havilland, Suzie? This is Charlie – she will be your surrogate,’ she said gesturing for Charlie to move towards Suzie. ‘Take your time. I know this is an emotional moment.’
Suzie stood up and looked at Charlie who was pulling on her cardigan. ‘Hello,’ Charlie said in a stilted voice.
‘Hi, um, Charlie, nice to meet you.’ And she held out her hand to shake, unsure what else to do.
‘Sit down, both of you. I’m sure you’re both feeling very nervous – that’s perfectly normal.’ Liz smiled. ‘Right, coffee anyone?’
Suzie shook her head. Charlie turned to Liz. ‘Oh yes, a cappuccino thanks.’
Liz got up and said she wouldn’t be a moment.
‘Make sure you don’t say anything wrong,’ Suzie whispered over to Charlie, who frowned at her. Just then Liz appeared. ‘Right, thanks for coming along. Now, I’ve spoken to you both on the phone, but it’s so nice to meet you – and I know you will want to ask each other a hundred questions!’ She laughed just as Suzie remembered to smile. ‘So, let’s just go through some of the procedures…’
Suzie’s mind was swimming. She looked at the baby pictures, she looked at Charlie and then she stared at Liz’s bright red lips, not taking in a thing. Liz was looking at her expectantly. What had she said?
‘Yes, yes.’ Suzie nodded and gave a smile that she was sure didn’t reach up
to her eyes. She glanced quickly at Charlie, who was staring at her feet.
‘So you’ve both been given all the details. What we tend to do is leave you to stay in touch, my client manager will be on the phone to you soon. We can visit you, when it suits you, but we will always be here, at the end of a phone…’ she gave a short laugh ‘… or actually here, in case you need us – are you all right? Charlie, you’re very quiet.’
Please let her be normal.
Charlie lifted her head. ‘Yes, yes of course. I think I’ve remembered it all.’ Charlie clasped her hands together.
‘Lovely. That’s great. It’s really all very simple.’ Liz smiled.
All very simple. NO, IT’S NOT. ‘Good.’ Suzie clutched her handbag strap, remembering what Rex had said. Libor… I don’t know if we can go ahead with the surrogacy.
She stared at the baby photos on the wall, then images of Rex’s worried face flashed across her mind. We don’t know her. Anything could go wrong. Her conscience was parroting Rex’s concerns in her head, doing a merry little ditty that looped round and round. Anything could go wrong…
‘Suzie? Did you hear all that?’
Suzie forced herself to look away from baby photos and turn her mind away from Libor problems, the uncertainty of Charlie and onto surrogacy. ‘Yes, yes.’ No. She was too impatient to ask her to repeat it.
Liz nodded to the pictures on the wall. ‘Our successes – and that’s only a few of them.’ She smiled again and moved some paperwork on the table.
‘Just so you both understand, as we progress, Charlie here will remain the legal mother of the child, until she agrees to the IPs – that’s Intended Parents, by the way; that’s you, Suzie – applying for a parental order after she gives birth, transferring her rights to them. And that will be dealt with at a hearing. That will usually happen between three to six months later. Don’t look so worried, Suzie, it’s just a process.’ She patted her hand. Just a process.