by Linda Huber
Wait until he’s a teenager, she thought. That was the time of the real tantrums and problems. The time when a boy really needed a dad.
She glanced across the road to the internet café. There was Jeff, bringer of roses, sticking a poster up in the window. He saw Julie and waved, and she waved back warily. He’d definitely been a bit strange with Sharon, but maybe it was because he loved children, she thought, remembering the broken-hearted way he’d stared at Sam the other day.
Sam was waiting when Julie arrived at the After School Club, rain jacket zipped up to his chin and school rucksack clutched in both arms.
‘Goodness, am I late?’ she asked, checking the clock.
‘You’re bang on time and so is Sam,’ said Katy, Sam’s group leader. She winked at Julie over Sam’s head. ‘Sam wanted to show you how nicely he can be on time.’
‘Oh! That’s brilliant, Sam,’ said Julie, dropping on one knee to hug him. ‘Let’s treat ourselves to pizza for tea, shall we?’
Sam ran ahead of her towards the supermarket, and Julie followed on with resolve in her heart. Sam was such a love; she must keep him safe.
Caro
Caro hurried away from the salesroom. It was still early, but Mr Wilson, the boss, was away at a meeting. Louise was waiting for her mother to arrive with the baby, and didn’t mind holding the fort alone for the last half hour. Caro grimaced. She’d left Louise holding the fort a couple of times recently. It might be an idea to show her appreciation with a box of Lou’s favourite soft centres. People didn’t like being taken for granted.
The rain had stopped, but it wasn’t exactly warm June weather, and Caro was glad she’d put on her jacket. She crossed the road and started off along the High Street, careful to put other passers-by between herself and Cybersonics on the opposite pavement. She didn’t want Jeff to spot her.
He’d been away in a dream most of the past week, though admittedly he hadn’t spent much of his time with her. It was difficult to tell because his working hours were irregular, but she had the distinct impression something was going on and he didn’t want her to know about it. That bag she’d found on Sunday… Then on Monday he’d stomped in late and shut himself into his computer room upstairs without even saying hello. And to think that four short weeks ago they’d been happy, a normal couple, confident that modern medicine would soon help them have a baby of their own. It seemed incredible now. The no-baby had changed everything, and very soon she was going to have to make a hard decision about her life.
The Puff Pastry was busy with people buying something on their way home, and Caro tapped her feet as the queue shuffled forwards. She would get chocolate croissants for the boys today – she wouldn’t see them again until Monday, now. She bought a croissant and a tube of Smarties for each boy, as well as two small cartons of orange juice, and hurried towards the square. And there they were, Alfie running around after an unpumped football, and Liam sitting on the back of one of the benches, large muddy trainers right in the middle of the seat.
Caro smiled and held out the bag with the chocolate croissants, watching as Alfie seized the biggest one. The voice behind her made her jump.
‘What the hell, just what the bloody effing hell do you think you’re doing, giving stuff to these kids?’
It was Alfie’s mother. Caro’s mouth went dry. The other woman’s face was red, and the sharp blue eyes boring into her own were cold as ice.
‘I – I just…’ It was as if Caro’s inside-out world stopped for a moment, shook itself, and then continued the right way up. What was she doing, actually? She should have introduced herself to the woman days ago. She opened her mouth to explain, but Alfie’s mother was speaking – no, ranting – again.
‘I had to take time off work just to wait here and tell you to leave these kids alone. What are you – some nosy, do-gooding…’ She glanced at the boys and fell silent.
Liam had grabbed the bag from Alfie and was biting into his croissant, his face pink. Caro could feel his embarrassment. Hadn’t he told Alfie’s mum who she was? Probably he hadn’t wanted the woman to tell his father – Caro could only imagine how Pete had spoken of her, over the years. She sat down heavily on the end of the bench, taking care to avoid the mud from Liam’s shoes. Her happy mood was gone, replaced by something that felt more like this chilly, damp June day, a day that should have been warm and golden but wasn’t.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘I didn’t mean any harm. I’m Liam’s aunt, though I haven’t been in contact with Pete for a while.’
Alfie’s mother stared at her, then sniffed. ‘Then get in touch and organise it with him. Until then – leave us alone, please. My boy doesn’t know you from Adam.’
Caro nodded, her cheeks burning. Stranger Danger. ‘Never take sweets from strangers.’ How often had her own mother said those words to them, as children? Yet here she was, teaching the boys – especially Alfie, who wasn’t old enough to know what was safe and what wasn’t – that it was perfectly okay to take things from strangers. And if she had children, what would she think if someone came along and fed them like she was doing?
How blind she’d been. Liam wasn’t neglected or hungry, and he had neighbours to look out for him. Probably dozens of kids in Bridgehead were in the same situation. Why had she kept coming back? Because Liam might help her find the pills boy – if he was still alive – and Alfie was cute? Or was it more to do with the no-baby and her wish to nurture a child? Caro stood up slowly, not wanting to leave but knowing she must. She was lucky Alfie’s mother hadn’t involved the police.
‘I’m sorry. I’ll do that.’ Caro glanced at Liam, but he made no move to join the conversation. How vulnerable he was, and she had made him even more so. ‘Goodbye, then.’ Caro walked away quickly so they wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. Neither boy replied. She didn’t look back.
A hot, painful lump in her throat, Caro walked back down the High Street and stood at the bus stop, waiting for the bus that would take her back to the estate and Jeff and the no-baby. It wasn’t fair. Liam might be her nephew, but she knew she wouldn’t be calling Pete to ask his permission to visit the boy. She had only seen Liam a handful of times, but being with him and Alfie for those few short minutes each day had become important, more important than her quest to find out about the ecstasy boy. For a day or two, she’d been able to pretend there were children in her life who needed her. And yet – these were older children. She would never have thought a child of that age could get under her skin so quickly; she’d rejected adoption out of hand because the children available usually were older. Maybe she’d been wrong about that, but oh, it was much too late now. All she wanted was to love a child – didn’t she want to love Jeff, too? Caro didn’t know any more. She’d gone into the relationship with the aim of having a fun time with a nice guy, and bringing her children up in much better circumstances than she’d been in as a child. Love for Jeff hadn’t been important then and it wasn’t important now either. There was no going back. She didn’t even want to go home, to the house where the door on her marriage was closing so quickly. She would have to talk to Jeff about it. After Granny’s birthday do on Sunday – she would do it then. Then she could start the monumental task of rebuilding her life – without Jeff.
Caro got on the bus and sat by a window, noticing glumly that the rain was starting again. At least Alfie’s mother was there to make sure the boys went inside, but – that was none of her business. Her business was to go home and spend an evening non-communicating with her husband.
Caro closed her eyes, feeling a headache start at the back of her neck as the bus trundled away from the High Street. She hadn’t wanted any of this.
She’d wanted a baby, but she wasn’t going to get one anytime soon.
12
Sharon
The book hit the floor with a thud and Sharon jerked awake. Rats, she had nodded off on the sofa again. She seemed to fall asleep every time she sat down nowadays, but that was apparen
tly what happened when you had a not-quite-week-old baby to take care of, and a husband who was doing the bare minimum to help. Babies didn’t sleep all night, Sharon had known that, but she hadn’t been prepared for how exhausted she would feel after just two nights away from the help of the nurses.
She sat massaging her forehead and listening for the baby’s small but penetrating voice. Craig had gone to deal with something at the shop this afternoon, so she and Jael were alone. A walk by the river was the plan, if she could muster the strength to push the pram.
An indignant voice called from the nursery and Sharon slumped, then grinned. Okay, she was half-dead and her relationship was in tatters, but who’d have guessed it – she was beginning to love having a daughter.
‘There, my sweet, up you come.’
Sharon sat by the window, feeding the baby and watching as a tourist boat chugged down the river, followed by a couple of kids in a rowing boat. Shouldn’t they be at school? It was funny how much more sensitive she was to all the other children out there, now she had a child of her own. If she wasn’t careful she’d turn into a caricature of her former self, all floppy pullovers and leggings, making jam and clunky jewellery at every opportunity.
The doorbell rang insistently as she was rummaging in her wardrobe, looking for a clean top that didn’t make her look like the side of a house. The sooner her figure got back to normal the better, and who could that be? Not Julie, she wouldn’t have finished work yet. Oh, it would be Mrs Hutchison from along the road – she’d told Craig yesterday she’d come by soon with a little something for the baby. Sharon went out to the hallway and pressed the button to open the front door of the building.
A few moments later the welcoming smile died on her lips as she opened the flat door to find Jeff Horne on the doorstep. He was clutching another bunch of roses, yellow ones this time, and beaming all over his face, but… there was something funny about his eyes.
Apprehension washed over Sharon. No way did she want to be alone in the flat with him, but he strode in confidently without an invitation. At least Jael was waiting in the pram; he would see they were on the way out.
‘Ah, my little princess,’ he said, handing the flowers to Sharon and bending over the baby. ‘I had to come and see how she’s getting on. She’s so lovely.’
‘Yes,’ said Sharon. ‘We’re off for a little walk now, out in the fresh air.’
He straightened up and gazed into her eyes with a frown on his face. ‘Is that good for her? I’m sure you’re not supposed to take new babies out much, the first week or two.’
Sharon gaped at him. She hadn’t asked, but wouldn’t the nurses have said, if fresh air should be off the menu for a bit?
‘It’s fine,’ she said firmly. ‘What lovely roses. Thank you so much, but you really mustn’t bring us any more flowers.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said, and to Sharon’s dismay he marched on through to the living area and settled himself down on the sofa. She followed unwillingly and perched on the edge of an armchair. It seemed churlish to ask him to leave; he was a funny bunny to be sure, but he’d been kind to them – all those flowers – and she should thank him for the parcel, too – but why was he doing all this?
‘Thank you for the lovely gift,’ she said, forcing herself to sound warm. ‘But it was too much. We can’t possibly accept such an expensive robe.’
He was staring across at her, frowning, and Sharon began to feel even more nervous. Was he offended? She’d still been deciding how best to refuse the christening robe, so this visit was embarrassing, but it was better to tell him in person. She was gathering her courage to ask him to take his robe and leave when he spoke again, and his words threw her completely.
‘You look tired, Sharon. In fact, you look terrible. How are you coping?’
‘Oh – well – the baby’s up at night – I don’t sleep well…’ Somehow, she couldn’t get a whole sentence out. There was something scary about Jeff Horne today, something she couldn’t put a name to.
‘Poor Sharon. This isn’t the kind of thing you’re good at, is it?’ he went on, still staring, his voice soft and caring.
The hairs on Sharon’s arms rose and she closed her lips tight to keep the shiver in.
Jeff was speaking again, the sound of his voice positively hypnotic. ‘You knew you weren’t going to enjoy being tied down like this, with all the responsibility of being a mother. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people don’t want children.’
‘I do want her,’ said Sharon, beginning to feel panicky. ‘It was a bit of a shock at first maybe, but–’ She stopped. There was no reason to justify herself to this man. ‘I love my daughter,’ she said, trying to sound firm.
He smiled, leaning forwards and rubbing his hands together. A sour whiff of stale sweat wafted over to her, and Sharon recoiled.
‘I’m sure you do, Sharon. But there’s no need for you to take care of her yourself. If baby Jael was well-looked after and loved by another couple, a couple who’d always wanted a child of their own – why, your life could get back to normal just as quickly as you liked.’
Sharon clutched at the collar of her blouse. What was he saying? What ‘other’ couple? Was he suggesting she give her baby away? She stood up, feeling her legs shake.
‘I’d like you to leave now,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
To her horror he laughed, leaning back into the sofa and looking completely at home. ‘Sharon, Sharon, think about it. You could go back to work. Out to dinner. Lovely holidays with Craig. There would be nothing to tie you down, and Jael will be with people who love her. I’ll organise it all for you myself.’
‘No – how dare you–’ Sharon heard her voice rise in fear, but before she could say another word her phone rang, and she grabbed it from the coffee table and connected without looking to see who it was. A lifeline, she had a lifeline. Please let it be someone she knew and not an insurance-seller calling from India.
‘Hi, Sharon!’
It was Julie. Relief flowed through Sharon. ‘Julie – I need help. Can you come straightaway?’
She listened to her friend’s voice saying she’d be there in five minutes. Thank God – Julie had realised something was wrong.
Sharon tried to glare at Jeff. ‘I want you to leave now.’ Her voice was shaking with fear. What if he didn’t go? Could she and Julie make him?
He stood up and gripped her arm, staring straight into her eyes. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said pleasantly. ‘For the baby. You’ll see I’m right, Sharon, when you’ve had time to think. Your lives would be much better without a baby and you know it.’
‘No!’ she cried, but he was gone, striding through the flat as if he owned the place. Sharon didn’t move until she heard the door close behind him, then she ran and blocked the Yale lock, grabbed Jael from the pram and crouched in the hallway, holding her child as tightly as she dared.
Julie
Calling to the other librarian that she had an emergency on, Julie grabbed her bag from the staffroom and ran down the path towards the main road. Something was wrong; Sharon’s voice had been brittle. It couldn’t be the baby – if Jael had been ill Sharon would have said. Had she had a bust-up with Craig? Could he have threatened Sharon? Or worse? Julie’s breath caught painfully in her chest.
‘Slow down, idiot,’ she muttered, aware that people were turning in the street to stare at her mad dash. ‘Pace yourself.’
She jogged on steadily and turned into Sharon’s street, with the expensive riverside flats on one side of the road and the older, detached houses opposite. Both pavements were tree-lined, and Julie couldn’t help comparing the area to her own fourth-floor flat in a grey sandstone tenement. She and Sharon didn’t have the same problems, that was sure.
A woman Julie recognised as Sharon and Craig’s neighbour was going out, and held the front door open with a pleasant, ‘Going to see Sharon and the baby again? She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’
The lift was on the gr
ound floor and Julie rushed in and up. Calling Sharon’s name, she banged with her fist on the flat door. Sharon opened up, a howling baby in her arms and her face sheet white.
‘Sharon, love, are you okay? What happened?’
Julie pulled Sharon through to the sitting area and sat her down on the sofa. Sharon began to cry with loud hiccoughing sobs, and Julie rocked her in her arms for a moment before giving her a little shake.
‘Come on, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.’
Sharon rubbed her nose and sniffed. Julie handed her a tissue and took the baby while Sharon blew her nose.
‘Sorry,’ said Sharon eventually. ‘I was so scared, Julie – I didn’t know what to do. Did you see him? He might still be hanging around outside somewhere.’
‘Craig?’ said Julie, staring. Had Sharon kicked him out?
‘Jeff Horne. Remember, the creepy bloke with the red roses at the hospital? Then he sent us Swiss chocolates and a really expensive christening gown too, and this afternoon he appeared with yellow roses and said he would take Jael and give her to a couple who wanted a baby. He said he knew I didn’t want her really. He was so sure of himself – he was so weird, Julie.’
Julie patted the baby’s back, rocking back and forwards as the howls died away. ‘What a jerk. Where on earth did he get the idea you don’t want Jael? He doesn’t know you. Where’s Craig – have you called him?’
Sharon shook her head. ‘Not yet. He’s stocktaking this afternoon, and he’s having enough problems being a parent. He wouldn’t help. I’m okay now.’
Julie shook her head. ‘You don’t look okay. You look as if you’ve had the fright of your life. I’ll make coffee.’
Sharon giggled nervously. ‘He said something like that too. He said I looked terrible. Oh, Julie, what’ll I do if he comes back?’
Julie put the baby into her pram and went to rummage in the kitchen cupboards. Sharon sounded almost hysterical; coffee might not be the best idea. ‘On second thoughts, let’s have a nice cup of peppermint tea. How did he get in, anyway?’