by kendra Smith
‘Charlie?’ He touches my arm lightly. ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier, but I got quite a fright.’ He hands me a tissue.
‘I know, I know, it was really dangerous, and I’m sorry, too – and sorry you lost your job.’ I blow my nose. ‘I’m just crying because – oh, I don’t know.’ I sink back in the seat.
‘That’s OK. Let’s just leave this,’ he says gently. ‘Like Suzie wants, for now. I really think it’s for the best. You need to concentrate on that baby.’ He smiles at me but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I want more than anything for him to hold me, to be able to lay my cheek on his chest, for him to make the world go away, to make me feel more whole than I ever have before.
‘Once you’ve had the baby, we can start lessons again maybe?’
That’s months away! I can tell he doesn’t really mean it, anyway. It’s just because I’m upset.
‘Sure.’ I try to sound calm. ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ Please say yes.
I don’t want this to end, the warm cocoon we used to have in the car, the banter, the laughs, the company. I hadn’t realised how lonely I’d been. I want to stay sharing jokes on the radio, quiz shows, stay in a place where I can – almost – be myself. In his world.
‘No, I’d better go – I’ve got my client over in Petersham – remember the cat lady? Mrs Norris. She’s eighty today, no family left. I said I’d take her to her hairdresser and then to the park.’ He exhales deeply. ‘She likes to sit in the car park and watch the children play. Says it reminds her of when her kids were small.’ His voice trails off. ‘I’ve bought her a cake and a card, and I phoned the salon and paid for her hair – my birthday treat.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I force myself to say. ‘It’s nice what you do. I mean for that old lady and others.’ He turns to look at me. I study his face, glance down at his strong chest as he takes a deep breath, watch it rise and fall, then force my eyes back up to his.
He opens his mouth to say something but suddenly Mike from next door comes out of the house and Daniel has to move the car.
‘Better go.’ Daniel nods at the clock on the dashboard.
I open the car door and swing my legs out. I hear myself say ‘bye’ in a pseudo-cheery voice I don’t recognise. I wave, then I open my front door. I gently close it behind me, and lean against it. I stay like this for a long time, just standing there in the silence, listening for small sounds.
The cat comes up and twists itself around my ankles, purring, keen to be fed. I think about Paul, and his crooked smile, about when he’d come to the door last week, how I’d given him my last £200, just to shut him up. I think about all the money I will have after the baby. I think about this and know I have to go through with it. I think about how I have lost Daniel. This time I let the tears just fall and fall.
53
Suzie
She tried to make a coffee in the kitchen, but her hands were shaking too much. Rex came in and took the coffee pot from her. Why is everyone against me?
‘What’s going on, honey? I saw you running down the driveway. Are you OK?’
‘You won’t believe it! I just caught Daniel giving Charlie driving lessons – driving lessons. Jesus sweet Christ – while she’s carrying MY BABY!’ She was close to tears. ‘What on earth got into him; why would he do something like that?’
‘Our baby.’ Rex smiled, calmly.
‘Don’t you think that’s outrageous, Rex?’
‘Look…’ He walked past her and opened the cupboard, pulled out a couple of mugs, placed them on the counter and pressed his thumb and forefinger onto his forehead. ‘It’s not ideal, I agree, but if you’re so stressed with her we might lose the baby anyway, Suzie. I’m a bit shocked she’s learning to drive – you’re right – but it’s quite understandable. You’ve paired her up with a bloke who can teach her to drive – it must have crossed her mind straight away. Don’t scare her off, darling.’ Rex walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
‘How can you be so calm?’
‘Listen, don’t forget she’s the legal parent until we sign the Parental Order – that’s what the lady at the clinic told you, yes? You could simply freak her out, Suzie. You are very highly strung right now, especially as you’re not working—’
‘It wasn’t my fault!’
‘I’m not saying it was—’ she could see how much Rex had to concentrate to keep calm ‘—but honestly – she’s carrying our last frozen embryo; you don’t want to blow it, do you? We both want this baby, you know, darling.’
‘You wouldn’t think so sometimes. You spend more time on that bloody bike than you do with me.’ She couldn’t help herself. She felt extremely rattled. Everyone seemed be getting in the way of them having this baby.
A little twitch started on his cheek as he stared at her. Then something snapped as he strode out of the kitchen and slammed the door.
Suzie stood, motionless, in their perfect kitchen with its perfect gleaming silverware. She knew that her only chance of having a baby lay with chaotic Charlie. A woman she’d just screamed at. A woman she wanted to protect so much because of the precious baby she was carrying. She worried she’d gone too far – with her and Rex. What was happening to her?
Since leaving work she had become worse. She’d even started to stick her fingers down her throat again the odd time after lunch. She liked that feeling. It was healing; it was good to know the food wasn’t going to contaminate her. She didn’t need it now anyway, did she? There was no baby to support in her womb, was there?
Her baby. Shaking, she sat down at her desk and clicked on her favourite website, babykins.com to make herself feel better while she could hear the garage door being yanked open as Rex got his bike out.
She was determined to be positive – she decided to concentrate on looking at colours for the nursery. Yellow – maybe with sunny daffodils. Don’t think about Charlie driving. She focused on the cheery yellow floral faces on a set of blinds, then quickly slammed the lid of her laptop shut in exasperation. Why were blinds so expensive?
She wandered upstairs to take a nap while Rex was out, presumably doing his usual time-consuming twenty kilometre cycle. But she couldn’t sleep properly: she dozed as images of cars and Charlie and little Babygros lying across the back seat kept flashing across her brain.
About an hour later, she heard Pixie barking furiously downstairs. That blasted dog needed to be brought under control! She sat up, grabbed her dressing gown and marched back to the kitchen.
‘Ramone! Ramone! Can you take that wretched dog and do something with him!’
Ramone appeared in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his head.
‘Mister Suzie, I am washing my hair!’
‘Hard cheese, Ramone! Please sort that dog out!’
‘Cheese? Pixie need el queso? No, I don’t zink dogs eat queso. I zink all he needs iz some attention and love!’ he said frowning.
‘Well give him some!’ she said opening the fridge door, then slamming it shut again, realising she shouldn’t eat any more – she’d used up all her calorie allowance with that stupid lemon pie she’d let herself have last night.
Ramone scooped Pixie up. ‘I cannot stand this, how you say?’ Pixie licked his face happily. ‘You so loose!’ he said shaking his head.
Suzie turned around from the fridge. ‘What, Ramone?’
‘No, no, sorry, I mean tight. Yeez, I have it wrong way round. You very, very uptight, Meez Suzie,’ he said shaking his head. ‘I know you want zis baby – but, please, eets not my fault – or Pixie!’
Just then there was a ping on Suzie’s phone.
Listen, Suzie, I realise I should have told you about the driving lessons. I’m very sorry. All this paranoia is making me feel sick. If you want me to have this baby, give me some space. Don’t forget I could always miscarry if I get stressed out. I know you’re paying me, but I’m only human. C
Suzie clutched the side of the sofa, then slumped down heavily onto
the floor, staring out of the window. Miscarry. Our last chance – becoming nothing more than a clot of blood soaking through Charlie’s clothes… Suzie leant against the base of the sofa; she couldn’t bear it. She was right. She must make sure Charlie had everything she needed not to be stressed. That stupid man, Daniel. She would send him a curt text ending their agreement, just in case he had any other ideas. She hugged her knees to her chest. Suddenly, with all the money issues and all this driving business, she did feel very, very uptight indeed.
54
Charlie
I wander into the lounge and slowly sink down onto the sofa and close my eyes. It’s five o’clock, dark outside – and, as I peer out the window, I notice a slow drizzle has started. The cat hops up onto my lap. As I stroke her soft chin she buzzes with a peaceful purr. Wouldn’t it be nice to be a cat? To have no worries, be fed and curl up in a basket when it all got too much?
My phone goes and I reach for it from the table. It’s Dawn. ‘Hi, sweetie, I haven’t heard from you for a while. You OK?’
‘Kind of.’
‘Look, I’m calling because Suzie just phoned me – um, she’s in a bit of a state. I had to calm her down – she said you’d been driving?’
‘Oh God, Dawn, it’s useless, I know I shouldn’t have done it and well, it was just so that I could – I don’t know – spend more time—’
‘With Daniel?’
‘Yeah, you guessed?’
‘Charlie! It’s totally obvious, well, to me anyway. I noticed at Christmas – you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.’
‘Well, I just— I think he’s just so fed up with me, about the surrogacy, now the driving…’
‘Why would he worry about the surrogacy? Surely that’s up to you.’
‘Maybe. But, Dawn, when I told him Suzie was paying me, that’s when he really seemed to go a bit weird. He went all quiet.’
I stand up and wander to the window. ‘I can’t help it, Dawn, I’ve kind of – I don’t know, I’ve never felt like this before.’
A couple are walking their dog along the pavement, hand in hand, their breath mingling into halos of wispy white clouds. There’s a wet sheen on the roads. I turn my back on the window and study my messy lounge. Sofa, TV, pictures on the mantelpiece. It could all look so fucking perfect, but I just don’t care. What’s the point? Families. My heart aches.
‘It’s a big step, the surrogacy. Maybe he, I don’t know, wondered why you hadn’t told him at the beginning? Look, Daniel’s is a lovely guy, Charlie, in all senses of the word—’ she laughs down the phone ‘—but he’s probably got some baggage and, I don’t know, he’s only just got back here, maybe you can—’ But she doesn’t finish as suddenly her voice gets muffled on the phone and there seems to be a tannoy announcement. ‘Listen, I’ve got to go.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Oh, a luxury spa, um, long story – we’ve got the room booked for tonight as part of the deal, but, um Eric’s keen to leave after lunch.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ll explain when I see you. Never mind, anyway I was just phoning to see if you were all right. I must dash, I was just—’
But before she can finish, there’s a loud noise outside. I look out of the window and see Tyler – in a strange car. He’s being driven off, by who? Who is that with him? Is he in trouble? Was it Paul? Another of the loan shark guys? Maybe they’ve tricked Tyler into their car. Would they? I can’t risk it; they’ve gone too far this time, taking my son! I shiver and feel sweaty at the same time. I can see it all playing out, a dangerous game on the roads, they take him somewhere, they call me, demand the rest of the money and threaten to do something to him. What would they do? Cut off a finger? I start to shiver.
‘Dawn, I must go.’
I don’t think twice as I run out the front door to see the engine smoke from the car in the distance. I hammer on the neighbour’s door.
Julie, who’s twelve and dressed in a tiger-print onesie, opens the door and smiles at me.
‘Hiya!’
‘Listen,’ I say quickly, ‘Julie, is your dad in?’
‘Nah, me mum and him just went down the pub – sorry.’ And she starts to shut the door.
I put my foot in the door as she does this. ‘No, no. Listen, I need the keys to your dad’s van. Please. I need them now!’
‘I can’t give—’
‘Look, Julie, I really, really need you to trust me. I’ve never asked for anything before. Tyler’s in trouble, I just saw him being driven off. Please!’
She shrugs then turns to a bowl of keys on the table in the hall and hands me them.
‘Here you are.’ She shrugs. ‘But you have to tell my dad—’
I don’t stop to listen. I grab them from her and open the van before I change my mind. I quickly adjust the driver seat and try to remember everything Daniel told me.
Engine on. Lights. Where are the lights? First gear – you can do this. I turn the van shakily out of the front, and somehow the car is still up ahead – it’s been stopped by a delivery lorry on the street. A man is hauling a supermarket delivery out of the back, holding up all the traffic. There are two cars in front of the one Tyler is in and one of the drivers is honking their horn.
Where are they taking him?
Suddenly the three cars in front go and it’s my turn, but I stall. Bloody van! I take a deep breath and start the engine again, first gear, easy on the accelerator. I narrowly miss the delivery lorry and drive past it and crane my neck to see where the car has gone. It’s a dark-coloured car. I can just about see it ahead.
I manage to keep the car in sight as it travels out of the busier roads, down the narrow back lanes of the village; there’s snow all over the grass verges. The van’s making loud screechy noises but I don’t care. I concentrate on the steering, noticing that I’m holding the steering wheel for dear life. I glance at the gear stick – should I be in third? Oh shit, I have no idea. Oh, seat belt? Too late, at least I’m moving. It’s so much harder to see in the dark, plus there’s a sheen on the road that is making everything reflect. Lights? Did I put them on? I look quickly at the dashboard and can’t figure it out; the car is further ahead. It’s at a junction. I need to follow it; I can just make it out.
I’ve reached the junction now and the car is somewhere over the other side of the intersection. Which road did it take? Left, or right? My armpits are sweaty and I feel sick. I glimpse the car again. I just need to get over to that lane. Who is in the car with Tyler? There’s a tall guy in the driver seat… We’re somewhere near the college. I just need to get across this blasted junction.
I edge forward at the junction. It’s on a slope and I peer at the dashboard for the light switch again. Suddenly I realise I’m rolling forward. I slam on the brake, but stall again. Which way should I be looking? Now I’m in the middle of the road – somehow, I start the car again but keep rolling forward – where’s the brake? Which foot?
I yank on the handbrake in desperation, and look briefly out of my window to my right. My heart stops. There are two headlights shining at me from an oncoming car. And now, inky darkness sweeps over me as I black out.
55
Dawn
They’d had a ‘five-course taster menu’ late lunch booked and were due to stay that night as part of their ‘luxury break’ – but things were escalating from bad to worse. Eric had been absolutely silent during lunch and she’d been so embarrassed, especially as the waiter could barely conceal a smirk when he served them. So she’d said, huffily, that they might as well go home and Eric had jumped at the chance.
In fact, he’d barely talked to her all the way home in the car, either. The hour and a half silence was only broken when they finally reached Chesterbrook and took their familiar road just past the village. It was as if Eric’s resolve had eventually snapped when he’d got back to his home turf. As they turned into the driveway it seemed that he couldn’t control it any longer. He crunched across the gravel, and pulled in
next to the garage and yanked the handbrake on with force.
‘What has got into you, Dawn? First, it’s no knickers at a dinner party, now we’ve been caught frolicking in a five-star golf resort in the pool! Like teenagers!’
‘We both got caught! Wouldn’t you like to be a teenager again?’ she said, looking at him sideways, hoping it was a vaguely coquettish look.
‘NO!’ he bellowed.
‘Well,’ fizzed Dawn, ‘how on earth are we meant to have a relationship when all you do is fall asleep every evening? You might be getting old, and acting your age, but I don’t intend to!’ And with that she opened the car door, swung her legs out and slammed it shut. But not before she’d caught a look of hurt etched across his face.
Honestly, I’m only trying to put a bit of a zing back in our relationship. She felt in equal measures furious and guilty as she hauled her bags out of the boot. But maybe, just maybe it was too late. Maybe he was seeing someone else and couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Why else would he be behaving so oddly?
‘Coo-ee! How did it go? Did you have a super time?’ Joyce was marching down the drive to greet them, wearing a purple apron and curiously her blouse was unbuttoned very low; she must have a few buttons missing. The gravel crunched under her feet as she purposefully strode along in a tartan skirt and low-heeled leather boots. Her hair was, as usual, immaculate in a blonde bob and covered in so much Elnett that it was more like a helmet than a hairstyle. She’d worn her hair like that ever since Dawn had known her. These days it was lot thinner – if you looked closely – requiring a bit of backcombing and much more Elnett.