A Year of Second Chances

by kendra Smith

  ‘Let me help you, darling. Where’s Eric?’ As she pecked Dawn on the cheek, she was engulfed in a powerful explosion of Yardley London English Rose, a fragrance Joyce had worn for years, but it was pretty potent today. Dawn had always found the perfume overwhelmingly sweet, and that was why, when Eric had bought her some Yardley soaps last year, she practically ran to the charity shop with them; she simply associated Yardley with her mother-in-law. Did Eric think Dawn was turning into an old person?

  ‘In the car,’ muttered Dawn and stomped past Joyce and in through the front door.

  Suddenly, from out of nowhere she felt a pain in her leg.

  ‘Hi, Mum!’ It was Felix, crouching in the bushes by the driveway, holding out a BB gun.

  ‘Felix! That hurt!’ She frowned at him and shook her head, rubbing her thigh. ‘Go and help with the bags.’ She walked back to the car.

  ‘Why’s Dad in the car?’ He ran over and yanked the car door open. ‘Attention! Out the car! Orders!’ He grinned. ‘Hi, Dad! Hey, why are you being Mr Grump?’ And Felix bounded over to the other side of the garden, in his Army Cadet camouflage gilet and then suddenly turned around and shouted: ‘Hey, everyone, Nanna has been making us cupcakes and the gardener has been round again. Nanna has made him lots of cups of tea! And the cat threw up in the laundry basket! It was an awesome mess! Nanna posted a picture on her Twitter account!’

  Dawn hurried into the house. She decided she needed a coffee before tackling cat sick. As she banged open several cupboard doors, trying to find where the hell her mother-in-law had hidden the coffee this time, Joyce walked in. ‘Hope you managed to stop the kids making cat food muffins?’

  ‘Well, if they did, they’d taste better than your baking!’ Joyce flashed back.

  How dare she?

  ‘Listen, Dawn,’ Joyce carried on more calmly, ‘I looked after your children so you and Eric could have a break, remember. Why can’t you be grateful? And he seems to have come back in a worse mood than when he left!’

  Dawn felt ashamed and turned to put water in the kettle, mulling things over. She listened to it start to boil, then come to a roaring crescendo. She turned around to face Joyce. ‘Sorry,’ she said folding her arms across her chest, ‘it hasn’t really been a relaxing break. Do you want some coffee?’

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said quietly, just as Dawn noticed her blouse again.

  ‘Oh, Joyce, by the way, I think you’ve missed a few buttons on your shirt?’

  Joyce’s face turned rather beetroot as she looked down. ‘Oh heavens, you’re right! So I have,’ she said, fiddling with the buttons. She did them up and then wandered over to the table to check her iPhone.

  ‘How’s your Twitter account?’ Dawn couldn’t believe her-mother-in-law was embracing technology. Twitter? Normally she was so old-fashioned.

  ‘Oh, yes. Angus has given me a few pointers. Quite marvellous!’

  ‘Angus? The “gardener”?’ Dawn raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Well, yes, we “connected” online,’ Joyce said using her fingers to show invisible inverted commas. ‘Actually – he’s amazing,’ she said quickly, looking the other way. ‘You know, he told me all about that Instagrain app thing – amazing for taking shots of flowers…’

  ‘Instagram.’ Dawn smiled. ‘Listen, Joyce.’ Dawn was eager to seize a moment of truce between the battles. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’ She looked behind her to check that Eric was out of earshot and moved towards her. ‘Eric seems quite preoccupied at the moment.’

  ‘He’s just busy,’ she said curtly. Was she right? Was Joyce covering up? Is that why she came to stay? Perhaps the two of them were in cahoots? Mum, you distract Dawn while I cavort around and she won’t notice. Make sure you are a distraction; do something like feed the kids cat food or something.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve been thinking while you were away, I’m going to teach you how to bake, how to do brownies properly. Show that whatshername a thing or two.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘That stuck-up cow, Victoria – at your school!’

  Dawn laughed out loud.

  ‘They’re really easy, Dawn,’ she said sharply. ‘You’ve got a good chance of winning that baking competition at the school, you know, if I show you my chocolate brownies and you put your mind to it. Or,’ she said after a pause, ‘being a runner-up.’

  Pah, what does she know? I am useless at baking.

  ‘Imagine that snooty so-and-so, imagine her face if you won!’

  She had a point, but Dawn couldn’t think about it any more as Alice skipped in. ‘Hi, Mummy!’ She grabbed Dawn around the waist and gave her the most enormous hug – in a way that only seven-year-olds can do, brightening the mood instantly.

  ‘Hello, my lovely girl, everything all right?’ She knelt down and encircled her gorgeous daughter in her arms. She was wearing one of her old dressing-up favourites, her Frozen dress, a Frozen hairband, her face a dazzle of various colours of glitter as if she’d just leapt off a West End stage. Dawn’s heart melted.

  ‘Oh yes, great! Nanna let us stay up till eleven last night watching Jurassic Park, the cat was sick in the laundry basket because it ate some of the Haribos Nanna bought us, and Nanna and I have been taking “Selvies” on her phone!’

  ‘Selvies?’

  ‘You know, Mum, where you take pictures of yourself! Like Kim Karnatrashian, all pouty. Nanna looks great in some of them. Hey, and look at my nails. All different colours!’

  ‘Kardashian,’ Dawn corrected, admiring her multi-coloured fingernails.

  Hmmm. What on earth has Joyce been getting up to? I suppose raiding the nail varnish box and a spot of cat puke isn’t too much of a price to pay – if only we’d had a good time. What on earth is wrong with Eric? He needs to loosen up.

  Dawn poured hot water into her mug from the kettle and stared out into the garden, looked at the clump of daffodils blossoming near the hedge. Was she blossoming any more? Eric clearly didn’t think so. She needed to do something else. Maybe Joyce was right. Maybe she’d show that snooty Victoria what she could do, whilst firing up some new brain synapses at the same time. The spinning classes were fine, but Eric hadn’t seemed to notice her ‘firmer butt’. Perhaps she’d become a domestic goddess if she couldn’t be a sex goddess.

  She looked down and wondered why she was drinking a cup of steaming hot water. Oh yes, she hadn’t actually found the coffee after all. With that, she heard the phone, then Eric’s rapid footsteps in the hall as he raced, white-faced, into the kitchen holding the receiver to her.

  ‘It’s Suzie,’ he said covering the phone, ‘she’s said something about a car accident and Charlie maybe losing the baby…’

  Dawn grabbed the phone from him and listened to Suzie talk about blaming herself for organising the car, about how Charlie had started driving lessons, amidst huge sobs.

  ‘Now just calm—’

  ‘Don’t tell me to calm down!’ screeched Suzie. ‘That stupid girl might have lost MY BABY! Our baby! Our last embryo! And we just had the scan! Oh God, Dawn,’ Suzie sniffed. ‘Look, I’ve arranged for her to go to the Royal Hampshire. Our consultant has been absolutely brilliant—’

  ‘OK, Suzie,’ she said steadily. ‘But where is Rex?’

  ‘Oh Christ, he’s driven up to London and is staying over. He’s got – got this incredibly important meeting tomorrow. It might cost him his job if things go wrong…’ Suzie was sniffing at the other end.

  ‘Listen. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Drive carefully.’ Dawn issued the command as she would to Felix.

  ‘OK,’ Suzie said quietly down the phone and hung up.

  56

  Charlie

  Why so bright? I squint at the shiny lights above me and feel an aching pain in my belly. I close my eyes again. A lot of noise, too much noise. Where am I?

  ‘Ms Moore? Charlie?’

  As I open my eyes I see a fuzzy face in a white coat staring at me, holding my arm and sliding on a blood pressure monitor. ‘Ri
ght, we’ve taken you through the first lot of tests. You’ve been extremely lucky – but—’

  Dear.

  Lord.

  No. It’s all coming back to me. The baby?

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I scream. I try to sit up.

  ‘Calm down, Ms Moore. We now want to wheel you up for an emergency scan for the baby. You’ve been bleeding and we need to take a look.’ He puts a hand on my shoulder.

  Oh my God, the baby… Bleeding?

  I can see Suzie outside in the corridor. Her eyes are red. She looks terrified. Dawn is with her, her arm protectively around her. Dawn is smiling at me and raises her eyebrows, concern etched across her forehead.

  Please don’t let me lose the baby… I really wanted to give Suzie her baby, despite everything that has gone on… for them to have the precious family they so desperately want, but I just can’t shake these feelings I am having. At least I have Tyler. What does Suzie have?

  Tyler? Oh my God. Where is he?

  ‘Tyler! Where’s my son?’ I’m shouting now. The nurse turns around.

  ‘It’s fine, Charlie, your son is fine… He’s just in the other room. You can see him in a moment. But we need to concentrate on you. You’re pregnant, aren’t you? How many weeks?’

  ‘Thirteen – or fourteen, I’m not sure…’ Thank God Tyler is safe.

  I feel exhausted as they take me up for a scan on the hospital bed. I touch the soft green blanket over my legs, like the ones a baby would have. I start to clutch it tighter as we enter a dimly lit room with several machines. Nobody is talking.

  ‘Please can someone tell me what the bleeding means?’ I feel the tears run down my cheek.

  A doctor who had his back to us comes over to me and puts his hands on the side of my bed. ‘It means that your baby could be in danger, so if you could just let us take a look?’ His eyes are kind but tired. Eyes that had probably seen terrible things already today – would I add to them?

  ‘Charlie, please don’t worry. I think it’s most likely to be a small bleed behind your placenta, triggered by the impact and should settle down in a few days – but we need to take a look. Is your partner around?’

  I shake my head violently.

  Please let my baby be OK.

  The sonographer walks into the room. She’s about fifty-five, grey hair, stripy blouse with pearl buttons, wedding ring. She’s matter-of-fact, business-like. This could be the worst day of my life.

  ‘This jelly will be cold, sorry.’ I watch her face for clues. The screen is a mass of blue-black blur with white lines; it’s impossible to make anything out.

  I can’t believe how stupid I was. Where was Tyler going? Who was he with?

  The minutes seem to be dragging. It’s like everything is in slow motion…

  Finally, the sonographer lets out a sigh and tells me to wait as she has a word with the doctor. She leaves the room for a while and then the doctor comes back in. He places a hand on my shoulder. ‘It looks like the baby has survived the impact. The heartbeat is fine; however, you do have subchorionic haematoma – the bleeding, possibly due to the accident – and not wearing a seat belt. Everything should be OK but we need to keep an eye on it and monitor you from time to time. For the moment, you need bed rest.’

  I choke back the tears. Thank God. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper.

  They wheel me back to a ward where Tyler is standing by the window. He spins around when I come in.

  ‘Mum? What happened?’ He grabs my hand. ‘Are you all right? Oh my God, I was so worried. Ramone heard a crash and we looked behind us at a car in the middle of the road and – and…’ Huge sobs leave him. I reach out and hold his hand. ‘Mum, I didn’t know it was you in the car; you can’t drive! We rushed over, called an ambulance… Mum, I thought… Oh God…’

  ‘Ramone?’

  ‘Yes, yes, he was with me, we heard the bang and—’

  It’s too much; I feel very dizzy.

  ‘Tyler, I—’

  The doctor is suddenly back. ‘Charlie? We will need to scan you a couple more times and you must tell us immediately if there is any more bleeding. We need to look after your baby.’ He smiles at me.

  A wave of relief washes over me and I feel suddenly extremely tired – I need to sleep now that I know my baby and Tyler are safe.

  *

  When I open my eyes, Tyler is dozing in the nearby chair. I take a while to look at him, his long legs sticking out in front of him, clad in ripped jeans. His hoodie is bunched up and the sleeves are too long for him. His fringe falls over his forehead as his head leans to the side on the headrest. I ache with love for him, my man-boy. He is all the family I have.

  Just then, Ramone comes in. He’s carrying a cup of coffee and puts it down by Tyler on the small table then turns to look at me.

  ‘Señorita, you awake? How you feeling?’ With that, Tyler stirs and looks over at me. ‘Mum, how are you?’ He rubs his eyes and glances at his watch. ‘You’ve been asleep for three hours.’ He smiles.

  ‘Have I?’ I look at him and Ramone nods. ‘Si, you very agotada!’

  I frown at him. ‘What?’

  ‘How you say, exhausting?’

  ‘Exhausted, Ramone.’ Tyler grins, then adds: ‘But actually Mum, you are exhausting!’ Tyler gets up and walks over to my bed and sits down.

  ‘But why were you in a car with Ramone – where were you going? I thought it was Paul…’ I mutter.

  ‘I’m doing a specialist photography short course – I told you I had another shift at the chippy, but I was going there. After you bought me the camera—’ he squeezes my hand ‘—it meant I could do this course. I met Ramone there – he’s studying English. He said he’d give me a lift today as it was a crappy Sunday service – buses weren’t running properly. I’ve been a bit secretive, because I wanted to surprise you with my portfolio, make sure I really can get that award, the bursary, so we don’t have to pay all the fees… I know how much you’ve done for me,’ he sighs, ‘given me that camera… God I didn’t know it was you in that car.’ He looks up to the ceiling and closes his eyes, but I can see they are teary.

  ‘Tyler, I thought you’d been kidnapped. I don’t know, those guys, Paul… they’re capable of anything…’ My voice trails off. ‘Anyway, it’s fine.’ I smile. ‘The baby’s fine – and I’m very proud of you.’ I squeeze his hand back.

  ‘Sorry, Mum, I know I’ve been a bit of a dickhead; I know how much you’re trying to do for me, with the baby—’ he shrugs and looks at my stomach ‘—and everything.’

  That’s about as much of a heart-to-heart as you’ll get from a seventeen-year-old, so I quickly say: ‘Tell me about the course.’

  Tyler jerks his head to look at me and it’s as if I’ve flicked a switch. His eyes are alight. ‘My tutor says there’s a good chance with my portfolio I’d be able to get that award, you know, where you don’t pay as much for the two-year course, some of the top companies look at the work and they sponsor the young photographers.’ His eyes are shining. ‘And they often take the photographers on full-time afterwards.’

  ‘Well done,’ I say quietly as I rub his forearm, but just then another wave of exhaustion hits me.

  ‘I spoke to that bird, Suzie, by the way,’ he carries on. ‘She’s been out in the waiting room for hours, but they wouldn’t let her in. She’s in bit of a mess, but I told her the baby’s OK.’ He shrugs and nods his head to the window. ‘She wanted to see you, but the doctors, they um, they didn’t want to upset you. They told her that you’re the birth mother and that she doesn’t have any rights at the moment. Dawn took her home. She was pretty upset.’

  ‘I can imagine…’

  But I can’t really, can I? I can’t imagine the heartache of never being able to have a baby, to have to find some other means, some other uterus, and then, to stand by and watch events unfold that you have no control over. A massive cloak of responsibility has just been laid over me, the weight of which I’ve agreed to, but still, the enormity of it
all hits me in full force. Poor, poor Suzie.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I whisper to Tyler. ‘I’ll make it up to her.’

  I can’t keep my eyes open for a second longer.

  57

  Suzie

  Suzie’s mother had turned up at the hospital reception. Rex had phoned her parents after he’d got back from London. She’d been quite surprised. Charlie nearly lost my baby, our baby. The thought kept looping in her head. ‘All right?’ her mother said to her now, as she touched her protectively on her elbow.

  ‘No, yes. It all seems so odd. I feel so detached, and yet she’s carrying our baby, Mum, the one Rex and I “made” – well, they made it in a test tube.’ She smiled up at her. ‘But you know what I mean.’

  She squeezed her elbow. ‘I do, darling. What floor?’ Her mum had stopped at the lifts.

  Suzie hated the smell of hospitals. It reminded her of when she’d been at boarding school, the smell of the sick bay, of lying there, time and time again, as the matrons were ‘worried’ about her. Seemed too thin, they’d said. That’s because she’d learned how to vomit up all her food, learned to do it quietly in the loos so nobody heard. She had mastered it quite easily because she’d overheard one of the sixth form girls; she had listened to them in the dinner queue, talking in hushed voices, and it had struck Suzie as a genius idea.

  She had no idea then, that the pursuit of such a slender figure and a desire to ‘purge’ herself of her feelings might just be part of the jigsaw of not being able to hold on to a baby now. Oh, nobody had actually said that, but she could tell. When the consultants used to scan her notes, at the word ‘bulimic’, they’d look up at her and smile. She was sure they’d been thinking: You selfish woman, look what you’ve done to your body. Serves you right you can’t carry a baby. And yet they knew so little of what she’d been through, of her nine-year-old self, then her ten-year-old self, who, at puberty at thirteen had discovered hips, and breasts, and fat around her tummy and who had wanted it gone. Her mummy and daddy didn’t love her, did they? So why should she love herself?