A Year of Second Chances

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A Year of Second Chances Page 20

by kendra Smith


  ‘No, no of course not.’

  ‘Then why did I see you in that maternity store – again?’

  I sit up straight. Shit.

  ‘I was watching you. I’d parked opposite; I was going to the butcher. And suddenly there you were. I saw you. You weren’t buying anything for the pregnancy, maternity clothes – you were holding baby toys. Why would you do that?’

  I need to stand up to her. ‘Suzie, I am allowed to go into a baby shop, for goodness’ sake!’

  I watch as her mascara runs down her cheek, making a mockery of her carefully crafted face, and the armour of Suzie Havilland slowly peels away.

  ‘Suzie, look, no, of course I won’t keep the baby,’ I say. ‘It was just a lapse. I just wondered if we should buy a few things now. I don’t know, I got a bit carried away. We have a deal, I know, I know… But I can’t lie. It’s hard. It brings back lots of emotions…’

  She nods, then stands up and grabs her phone.

  I hear the front door close shut. I stand up to clear away the teacups. I feel drained by today; it’s been much, much harder than I thought it would.

  Suddenly my phone pings.

  Driving? OK, let’s do one lesson and see how we go? D.

  No kiss.

  I lean back against the fridge and sigh. What’s made him change his mind? But all I know is that this will mean more time with him. For a moment, I feel better. Then suddenly I remember what’s in my pocket. I pull the folded scan picture from my jeans and study it. The baby (my baby?) has a tiny body, arms, legs and face.

  My baby’s face?

  49

  Dawn

  The dining room was exceptionally quiet. Dawn scanned the room. Most of the guests were decidedly Saga-age. Is this what it has come to? Massage oils for flatulence, no energy for sex and eating in silence? We might as well be in a nursing home.

  Their waiter came over and poured the wine. Dawn knocked it back in one, then grabbed the bottle from the cooler and refilled her glass swiftly. She didn’t want to associate herself with the other diners. She and Eric were young. They were going to be – what did Suzie say the other day? – ‘happening’.

  Dinner was lovely, if a little small on the portion side. She and Eric both had dover sole, followed by an apple crumble with home-grown apples from the hotel’s garden stored over the winter, the waiter had told them - and double cream. It was nice. It was lovely. It was bloody boring. Something inside her snapped a little. Suddenly an idea came to her. ‘C’mon, let’s go.’ She stood up.

  ‘What? Where? I haven’t finished my pudding,’ he muttered as he followed her to the lift.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Once the doors closed, they descended to the lower ground floor. ‘Not another couples’ massage?’ Eric looked at her in the lift mirrors, terrified.

  ‘No. Don’t worry!’

  Dawn wobbled out of the lift and got her heel slightly stuck in the space between the lift doors.

  Eric laughed. ‘Steady, old thing!’

  ‘Less of the old, if you don’t mind!’ Dawn giggled. She grabbed Eric by the hand and yanked him into the spa area.

  ‘Darling, this is closed…’

  ‘Not for us, it isn’t!’ she said as Eric’s eyes widened.

  He yanked the lapels of his dinner jacket together and looked at her. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘C’mon, Eric, let’s have a dip!’

  ‘But we’re not wearing our swimsuits.’

  She reached out and touched his cheek. ‘Eric, let’s stop doing all the “we should” things, shall we? Let’s try some “maybe we could…” Who cares about swimwear? Let’s be old a bit disgracefully, eh?’ She winked at him, but he didn’t wink back. ‘Come on, Eric, where’s the guy I used to know, the one who couldn’t take his hands off me behind those rhododendron bushes all those years ago?’

  He did smile then, a twinkle of the old Eric returning. ‘All right then!’ He looked around. ‘I suppose so, the place is dead.’

  They slipped under the wide burgundy rope across the pool entrance. Taking off her clothes, she felt a shiver of excitement. Thank goodness she’d put on her matching set of undies. Pale pink lace with tiny rosebuds sewn onto the straps of the bra, Eric used to like this set…

  They both slid into the water at the deep end and she smiled encouragingly at Eric. He started to swim breaststroke and she watched his broad shoulders plough through the water. He’d always been a good swimmer. She took the plunge herself, but didn’t want to thrash about too much and make a lot of noise, just in case.

  Dawn looked up at the mural on the ceiling – a beautiful Grecian mosaic. There were tiny birds, gushing turquoise rivers, dark-haired women, smiling with rosebud mouths, intertwined with other (oh my God) women, hands all over each other’s breasts. There were muscly men and golden snakes circling the picture. She looked over at Eric in the shallow end and waved. She could make out the large rubber plants in terracotta pots in the dim light and the deckchairs were scattered with white cushions. The atmosphere was balmy and relaxing.

  She swam over to Eric and enjoyed the feeling of the water all over her body. When had they last taken a dip together? Maybe Joyce was right, they just needed some time. She could pull this off, couldn’t she? Standing next to him in the pool, she rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arms around her comfortingly. ‘This is nice, darling,’ he said. ‘Hope nobody’s about though.’ And he kissed her on the top of her head.

  ‘No, there’s no one here, just us!’ She leant in closer to him and looked at his dewy face, then reached out and touched his lips, made little circles across his cheek.

  ‘What are you doing? Have I got some food on there?’

  ‘No, darling!’ She laughed. She slowly lowered the straps down over her shoulders.

  ‘Dawn, for goodness’ sake, what are you doing?’

  ‘Shhhh.’ She giggled, then reached out behind her back and undid the clip. She enjoyed the sensation of release, of being free, the soothing feeling of submerging herself in the warm water as it rose above her breasts. She felt a tingling sensation go down her spine. She felt young. This is what the website was talking about!

  ‘Eric, here you go…’ she said, feeling for his hand underwater and moving it up to her breasts. Eric moved towards her, a curious mix of shocked horror and excitement on his face.

  ‘Dawn… I don’t really…’

  ‘Come on, Eric.’ She giggled, wading in closer. She was definitely feeling a bit tipsier than normal. She reached for Eric’s leg, hauled it up and hoped she looked seductive, wanton. ‘Put your leg around my waist, like this, now hold on to the edge of the pool.’

  ‘No, Dawn, I really don’t think we should.’

  ‘Eric, what can go wrong? There’s nobody here!’ She pouted at him.

  But as he lifted his leg up with her helping, he let out a cry. ‘Ahh!’

  ‘What is it?’ She panicked. ‘Eric?’

  His face was contorted in pain. Helplessly, she watched as her husband bent double in the water and let out a muffled gurgling yell, his face half underwater.

  ‘It’s my bb-back Dawn. I slipped; it’s my leg – moving it up too far… It’s just, ahh, gone… Oh Christ!’ He held on to her, clutching her elbow, as she thrashed about unable to steady them both.

  With that the lights flashed on as her heart thudded in her chest. Dawn froze, half submerged in the pool, hair dripping, terrified and naked from the waist up, her husband bent double in the bright lights. Eva stood and looked curiously at them until the penny dropped. She marched over to the towels, threw two at them. ‘We see you on CCTV – so much noise! Now get out ze pool.’

  50

  Charlie

  ‘Charlie! Just take it easy on the gears.’ Daniel glances at me.

  This is bloody awkward. I am crunching the gears into the wrong place. Why are they so confusing?! We’re driving along a very quiet country road and I’m in second gear – should I be in third? Da
niel isn’t saying anything and is glancing at the gear stick. He said he’d let me have a go on one quiet road he knew, after we’d spent the last hour in a disused car park in an industrial estate with him going over the basics with me.

  The atmosphere was dreadful, but I’d felt quite confident there, yet it’s much harder on the real roads. Neither of us has said anything about the surrogacy yet. It’s just as bad as the few lifts I’ve had from him since I’ve been back to work after Christmas. I thought the atmosphere might be better, but it’s not. I can sense it isn’t the right time. Besides, I’m too stressed with this driving malarkey. I don’t think I can handle an outburst now.

  We mustn’t tell Suzie, I’d texted a few days ago. She’d go mad; in fact, she’d go ballistic! It felt good to have a secret to share, not so good learning to drive… my idea of more quiet time together hasn’t quite turned out quite like that. In fact, I’m pretty terrified but I don’t want to show Daniel.

  Driving is much more difficult than everyone makes it look. It looks so easy on TV. My nickname at school rings in my ears, ‘Clumsy Charlie!’ In the movies, everyone can drive and chat! How do they do that? I can feel my heart thudding. I want to make a success of this. Daniel’s being extremely patient, but his mouth is set in a straight line. He keeps reminding me that steering is the most important part of driving.

  Gloria’s husband, Roger, took me out last week as a favour to Gloria. We were in his car in the supermarket car park after hours. It had been Gloria’s idea. Just so you don’t look like a total berk in front of Daniel.

  Trouble was, Roger owns an automatic Skoda, which is like a tank to drive. Plus, when he sucked in his breath sharply it really put me off. But it’s odd, after that session with Roger, it was like a switch had gone off. I really want to learn to drive, to prove I can do it, if I’m honest, to prove to myself, and especially, it’s transpiring, to Daniel. But it looks like Clumsy Charlie is just the same when she’s driving. Bugger.

  The car lurches and there’s sweat under my armpits.

  ‘Charlie, be careful!’ snaps Daniel. He grabs the steering wheel from me.

  ‘I wanted to avoid that massive pothole, sorry!’ We’d somehow just swerved onto the other side of the road for a moment.

  ‘What were you doing, Charlie?’

  ‘But there were no cars on the other side!’

  ‘But there could have been. You can’t just go onto the other side of the road when you feel like it! Pull over please.’ He’s very calm. And he’s very furious.

  ‘Why? I can drive!’

  ‘Clearly not today.’ His voice is low. I’d prefer it if he kept shouting at me.

  I indicate left and turn into a narrow road with more potholes, crunch the gear into second and bump over them, causing the car to bounce around.

  ‘Watch the car! Please, Charlie! It’s my livelihood!’ Now he is screaming.

  Oh crikey. He’s really mad. Maybe driving lessons are a stupid idea. God, I have totally blown it, first the surrogacy, now by being such a klutz. I carefully put my foot on the brake and come to a stop. Then I pull up the handbrake and we both sit in stunned silence for a while.

  It’s a beautiful winter’s day; hoar frost is glistening on the leaves. A tiny blue tit hops onto a nearby gate and cocks its head at us, its miniature yellow and blue feathers ruffled in the cold. Normally, I’d mention that to Daniel; it would make him smile, but I don’t think he gives a fig about a cute wintery scene at the moment. He turns to me and takes a deep breath. It’s as if something has changed in the car; the easy-going friendship has been shattered. In its place is a tense mess of emotions – his and mine. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the surrogacy? About having a baby?’

  My heart freezes.

  Because I have feelings for you that are overwhelming me and I think it would have been the last thing you’d be looking for in a girlfriend – a woman who gets paid to have babies.

  ‘I-I, look, I just didn’t know what you’d think and anyway, I need this surrogacy!’ Why did I say that?

  ‘Need the surrogacy – why? I mean, it’s kind of you to help Suzie out, to help anyone out, but with everything else on your plate, I just can’t—’

  He stops and I turn to look at him. He’s staring ahead, his jaw set.

  ‘Look, I need the money.’

  ‘Money?’

  Oh Jesus. This is not how I wanted to explain it to him.

  ‘I didn’t just leap into surrogacy lightly. The reason I’m doing it,’ I say quietly, ‘is that Suzie is paying me. And it’s because I’m so broke, really broke. You have no idea what I’ve been through already… why I need the money, to be honest.’

  ‘Believe me—’ he glances at me and fixes those chestnut eyes right on me ‘—I actually do.’

  He’s just being nice. He wouldn’t have a clue, would he? I let out a deep breath and suddenly feel exhausted.

  ‘I think we might have covered enough today,’ he says, sweeping his hands through his hair. ‘Let’s swap over.’

  I feel so stupid and humiliated sitting in the lay-by. So much for my idea of this bringing us closer; our cosy little driving lessons, where I’d imagined cheerily singing along to songs on the radio, to doing our quizzes, stopping for coffees and us getting closer, having ‘our’ secret, and then, when I’d found the right time I was going to tell him all about the surrogacy properly, about why I felt I had to do it. He would have understood. He would have known me better by then, and realised why I had no choice. But I’ve blown it now. He hates the idea of me having a baby for money – you can just tell. Look at the grim set of his mouth. The mouth I was kissing only a few weeks ago. Stop it, Charlie.

  The atmosphere in the car is toxic. Ever since Christmas lunch, his whole body has just tensed up around me. I can see the disgust in his face. Suddenly there are footsteps outside, and, as if things couldn’t get any worse, they do.

  The driver door is yanked open and a wave of sheer horror washes over me.

  51

  Suzie

  There was still a sheen of frost lingering on the branches of the trees in the shade and the fence enclosing the field of horses was sparkling in the sunlight. The sky was cloudless. Suzie placed a huge vase of peonies – various colours of pink, from pale cherry blossom, to hues of bold magenta – on the hall windowsill. From here, there were uninterrupted views across the hills, of the pale green and yellow swatches of fields stretching out to the horizon.

  She gazed at the view. That was one thing she did love about being here, the openness. You could see past their boundary fence into the village – she could make out the post office, the tiny junior school. She remembered the days off after her miscarriages, the sounds she used to hear from the school, the thump of a ball, the yells, happy screams, girls chasing each other round the playground; it was as if every cheerful noise from other people’s children drove a nail deeper into her heart.

  Suddenly, Suzie caught a glimpse of a car veering into the lay-by just past the school. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. It couldn’t be! What on earth…? Yes, she could swear that was Daniel’s car, with that logo – and it was swerving very erratically. She caught her breath. Charlie might be in there, carrying HER BABY. Oh God. What was that man doing with Charlie?

  She raced down the stairs, banged open the boot room door, hauled on her purple wellies and a thick coat and marched down her driveway. Then she saw it, with the @goingplacesatanyage on the side. She ran over and flung open the driver’s door, ready to yell at Daniel.

  But there was Charlie, clutching the steering wheel, looking terrified.

  She. Could. Not. Believe. It. Charlie. Carrying her baby, at the wheel. She was speechless.

  ‘What in the name of God are you doing, Charlie? Charlie?’ she screamed.

  Suddenly, Charlie looked up at her. Beneath her eye sockets were damson circles. ‘Sorry, Suzie, I was—’

  ‘I can see what you were doing, I saw you screech into this l
ay-by from my window at home. Daniel, what on earth is going on? For God’s sake, Daniel?’ She clutched on to the side of the car door to steady herself.

  ‘Why on earth is she at the wheel of that car? I have employed you to drive Charlie, not the other way around!’ she shouted at Daniel as he calmly got out the passenger side and walked round.

  ‘I know you did, Suzie, but I am a trained driving instructor too. It says on my web—’

  ‘I don’t give a damn if it says you are Spider-Man on your website, you will NOT disobey me!’

  ‘Look, Suzie,’ Charlie started, ‘it’s my fault, I persuaded Daniel… Daniel and I just – we had a bit of an argument, so that’s why I was annoyed.’

  ‘I’m going to bloody well kill you, that’s after I fire you!’ She narrowed her eyes at Daniel. How could he? After she trusted him?

  ‘No! Don’t fire him!’ yelled Charlie. They both turned to stare at her.

  ‘What?’ said Suzie. ‘Don’t worry, I can easily get another company or taxi service to drive you around, Charlie. Do NOT go behind the wheel of a car again, do you understand? Not until you’ve had my baby, that is!’

  She turned to Daniel. ‘Drive Charlie straight home! I will transfer what I owe you to your account and you are not to have anything to do with Charlie again, do you hear?’

  52

  Charlie

  The drive back to the house has been in silence. There’s some black ice on the roads and even Daniel has swerved a few times, making me shudder. Thank God he’s driving now. Imagine if I’d crashed? It’s probably the hormones, but I just can’t help it, the tears start to trickle down my cheeks. I wipe them away quickly.

  We’ve just pulled up outside the house. My mind’s racing. I’m thinking about Daniel sitting so close to me; I want to talk to him, but I remember that look on Suzie’s face, that she’s just fired him… I wish I could just blurt out all my feelings right now. I want to tell him how I feel. How do I feel? What I do know is that this gentle man with the strong arms and the tiny tattoo on his forearm is someone I used to laugh with, someone who makes me feel like I matter, who’s interested in me, who had been interested in me… but now, because of the baby, well, he’s been put right off. Who can blame him? How would I have coped with such deception? But there seems to be something else: a wariness about him now.

 

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