by Amy Bratley
I know he loves me. Every day I long to thank him for loving me, but he’s like a wooden soldier and instead I push him away. I want him to grab me in his arms and tell me he wants me, like he used to. But he treats me like I’m one of his antique vases. Look, but don’t touch. Why does he put up with me when I’m so horrible? That in itself makes me resent him. I know I’m taking it all out on him. Poor Edward. What is wrong with me? Feel like I’m cracking up. Hormones, the midwife says. Anxiety, the counsellor says. I think it’s impatience. I want this baby to come out. I want to see her face and study her features and hold her to me and listen to her breath, and I want to be returned to the woman I once was. I want to be me again. Not screwed up tight like a clenched fist, but laughing and open and affectionate. I want to dance. I haven’t danced since. I wonder if I’ve forgotten how. I want to feel her breath on my face. In my dreams the breath doesn’t come. I cannot stand the wait.
Erin didn’t hear Edward’s footsteps on the stairs as she opened the jewellery box and pulled out the tiny white hospital wristband she had kept more safely than any of her jewels. She read the name: Baby Josiah Newman. Tears filled her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they kept on coming. Holding the band in her hand, the tears dripped on to the paper, blurring the ink of her words.
‘Erin?’ Edward said softly, coming into the room behind her. He had enough sense not to turn on the lamp. Resting his hand on her shoulder, she felt his warmth travel through her body. They both looked out towards the sea. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘I know I can be distant,’ he said with difficulty. ‘I should tell you every day that I love you.’
Erin’s cheeks glowed at Edward’s words, but her heart thawed. She chastised herself for giving him such a hard time.
‘I’m fine,’ she said, too shrilly, tightening her fist over the band. ‘I’ll be up. You go.’
Edward let his hand drop from her shoulder then wrapped his arms around Erin from behind, pushing his face into her neck. Twisting round, she found his mouth and lips. They kissed, briefly but warmly.
‘Erin,’ he said, his voice quavering as he noticed the band in her hand. ‘Oh, Erin. Tell me.’
The room was silent, but all Erin heard was a deafening sound of rushing in her eardrums.
‘Erin?’ he said again. ‘Say it.’
‘I . . . I . . . miss him,’ she managed to choke out before breaking down into heavy sobs.
She turned around and stuffed her hot face into his chest. For a while they held one another, until she pulled away, feeling the words bubbling in her chest, vying to get out. She’d kept them in for this long, for seven and a half months, out of respect for both of them, to keep them going, not to indulge those dormant fears, not to make it all worse. Now they rose up in her throat, like burning paper, and she had no choice but to voice them. She covered her eyes.
‘What if it happens again?’ she said into her palms. ‘What if this baby dies, too?’
A cloud passed over the moon and, for a moment, the room was completely dark.
‘It won’t happen again,’ Edward said, smoothing down her hair, tears rolling down his cheeks now. ‘I promise you, it won’t happen again.’
Mums. They knew everything. How did that happen? How did you transform from being a person meandering her way through life, not knowing if she was making the right decision over buying skimmed milk or semi-skimmed, to becoming a mother and knowing exactly what her daughter should do at every turn? With her ear still burning from her earlier phone conversation with her mum, which had lasted the fifteen-minute journey home from work, up the stairs and into her flat, Mel moved over to the window and saw Rebecca crossing the road, her bump neatly zipped into her parka. Mel’s mum’s exclamations ran through her mind. ‘Phone Leo and talk to him right now! Find out what’s going on! You’re about to have his baby, for heaven’s sake! He can’t just walk off! He can’t just decide he doesn’t want a baby!’ Thanks, Mum. As if I didn’t know all that already. But her mum simply loved her. Mostly, she’d been rational and helpful, offering to come straight down on the train that night. And she was right, too. Mel did need to speak to Leo, to get some answers, but, since he’d left that morning, indignation had kicked in – and exhaustion. The kind of tiredness she felt now she was heavily pregnant was a non-negotiable tiredness, like the cable being pulled out of the back of the telly. The doorbell rang.
‘Hi, come in,’ she said to Rebecca, opening the door. ‘How are you doing?’
Mel showed Rebecca into the flat and gestured that she could hang her coat up on the coat-stand. Rebecca had changed into a grey jersey dress and had left her hair down. She looked stunning. Mel felt a wreck in contrast, wearing Leo’s old track-suit pants and a striped maternity top she had slept in the previous night.
‘Good, thanks,’ Rebecca said. ‘Lenny’s out playing a gig, and pregnant girlfriends are not permitted. I was at home about to tackle the washing-up, then I thought, I’m twenty years old, I’m going to have a newborn soon, what the hell am I doing? I thought you might need some moral support, though I guess you have lots of friends rallying round.’
Mel nodded, but realized that she hadn’t yet told any of her friends that Leo had left her – hoping, perhaps, that he’d be back before she had to make it public knowledge. Bizarrely, just as she’d felt in the antenatal group when Alan had slated Leo, she didn’t want all her friends to start hating him. She knew from previous boyfriends’ misdemeanours that her group of friends were harsh judges. Once they got their teeth into Leo, they’d gnaw on his bones indefinitely.
‘You know what,’ she admitted to Rebecca, ‘I haven’t told them yet. I’m hoping we can sort it out. Otherwise . . . I’m not sure what I’ll do. I can’t face thinking about it.’
Mel felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away. She’d done enough crying for one day. Instead, she let out a bark of laughter.
‘I understand,’ Rebecca said. ‘Maybe you both need a bit of space. Pregnancy can be pretty intense, can’t it? I have to keep reminding myself there’s a reward at the end, in the shape of a baby boy hopefully.’
‘I know what you mean. I’ve missed my wardrobe and my heels, but having said that, until Leo walked out, I’ve really loved being pregnant,’ Mel said. ‘I was so excited at the beginning I told people way before twelve weeks had passed. Leo was pissed off with me for that, but having this little being inside amazes me. It’s so weird, growing another creature like this, isn’t it? I know millions of women have done it time and time again, but I’ve loved the glowing feeling you get, as if all of us pregnant women are a bit special. Blokes stand up for you on the bus and people treat you nicely—’
‘Or squeeze your body in the supermarket like they’re testing mangoes,’ said Rebecca, pulling a face. ‘I think that’s gross! When else would you lunge in and grope a complete stranger and not get arrested for harassment? Never.’
‘Thankfully, that hasn’t happened to me,’ said Mel. ‘But you never know what treats are waiting around the corner! I didn’t think Leo would ever do this—’
‘He’ll come back,’ said Rebecca, touching Mel’s arm. ‘How long have you been together?’
‘Just over two years,’ Mel replied. ‘We met at a party in Hove. We got talking and found out we both work in design. Well, I’m a designer and he’s a website designer. We just clicked. Anyway, I thought we’d probably never see each other again, and I wasn’t that bothered because I was happy single, but he kept calling me and asking me on dates, so we started going out. He wasn’t like other men I’ve been out with. He really makes me laugh. He doesn’t even really need to do anything and I laugh. He’s kind of random. Like he’ll buy me a bunch of flowers but stick them in the window box so I’ll see them when I open the window. Or he’ll phone me at work and pretend to be a police officer. Doesn’t sound funny when I say it to you, but there was no macho crap. There is no macho crap.’
‘So, is it really unl
ike Leo to go off like this then?’ said Rebecca. ‘Or had you been having a hard time?’
Mel screwed up her face, thinking about her answer.
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘We’ve never argued much, only over small things like whose toenail cuttings are behind the sofa. Nothing major. Since I got pregnant, he’s been normal. I guess he hasn’t been as loving as usual in some respects, and I know he gets pissed off with me because I’m so tired the whole time, but only because I fall asleep when he’s talking. He sees a lot of his brother, who has the worst kids you can possibly imagine. Honestly, they’re horrendous little monsters. I think even their mother wants to kill them! Maybe it’s something to do with that . . . Whatever it is, he needs to tell me. If he’s stopped loving me, I need to know. It’s going to hurt, but I guess I’ll survive.’
Mel’s lip wobbled, and she sighed in exasperation at herself. ‘Anyway, would you like a cup of tea? I promise I won’t cry tears into it. Or I’ve got wine if you want a little glass? It’s supposed to be all right to have a glass now we’re this far gone. My mother was just telling me she had a Guinness every day when she was pregnant with me. Probably explains my stunted growth.’
Rebecca laughed. ‘I like the idea of wine,’ she said, ‘but I’ll have tea, please. Peppermint, if you’ve got it. And do you have any crisps or anything salty? I’m suddenly starving, and I didn’t bring anything with me.’
While Mel was in the kitchen boiling the kettle and emptying bags of crisps and pretzels into bowls, she called through to Rebecca. ‘What about you and Lenny?’ she asked. ‘You’re the Brad and Angelina of the antenatal group. How did you meet?’
Rebecca laughed again. Through the door, Mel saw her picking up various things – the cardigan she was knitting for the baby and the folder of information from the antenatal course, a picture of Leo and Mel together. She put the picture down really carefully and straightened it up, a gesture that made Mel like her.
‘At one of Lenny’s gigs,’ Rebecca answered. ‘I was one of many girls gawping at him from the wings, but I didn’t let him know how I felt at first. He has a bit of an ego, as you might have guessed. I knew he liked me, since I’d seen him gawping back, but, as you can probably tell from meeting Lenny, I knew it would take a lot to win him for keeps. I reckon he’s had lots of girlfriends before me, whereas I’ve not had a lot of experience. So, my friends advised me to play it cool – ha! Cool? I was hopeless. Every time I saw him I couldn’t speak properly and legged it as quickly as possible. I think he interpreted that as nonchalance because, after we’d met a few times, he made a play for me. He got down on one knee and asked me to have dinner with him, followed by sex on the pier.’
‘Subtle!’ Mel said.
‘Subtle’s not Lenny’s thing,’ said Rebecca. ‘But I’ve always loved that about him. He isn’t like anyone else I’d ever met. He’s the opposite of my family. He’s so exaggerated, a real show-off. Like, last week, he got fed up with a game of cards he was losing at the pub and threw the whole pack on the fire.’
‘Really?’ Mel laughed. ‘That’s one way of losing.’
‘He’s got another side, too,’ said Rebecca. ‘When he’s just woken up, he’s all quiet and sleepy and cuddly. That’s when he tells me all his insecurities and, it’s bad to say it, but I like it when he does that. It makes me feel like we’re more equal. We’re so different really. He’s from this wild, hippy family that had no rules. I’m from the most straight-laced family you can ever imagine.’
‘Opposites attract?’ asked Mel, bringing Rebecca her peppermint tea.
‘Maybe,’ Rebecca said. ‘Though sometimes, especially now I’m pregnant, I worry that we’ll begin to clash. When he’s out all the time with his band, I feel neglected. I can just see what the future will be like. I’ll be looking after the baby while he goes out as normal. On the other hand, it could bring us closer together.’
‘I expect so,’ said Mel. ‘I’m pretty scared about those first few weeks with the baby. I’m not sure what kind of mum I’m going to be. I’ll probably be a helicopter parent, obsessed with every tiny thing the baby does.’
Especially if I’m on my own, she thought. But even though he’d left the flat, Mel couldn’t believe that Leo would stay away for long. Surely this was just a blip.
‘I can’t get my head around being a mum,’ said Rebecca. ‘I feel too much like a child.’
Mel yawned. The tiredness was coming over her like a blanket. Putting her tea down, then sitting on the sofa next to Rebecca, she felt her eyelids drooping. ‘Me, too,’ she said, straining to keep her eyes open. ‘What did you think of the other women in the group?’
Rebecca put her tea on the table in front of them and took a handful of crisps from a bowl.
‘Erin seems really quiet,’ said Rebecca. ‘Lexi’s quite full on and Katy reminds me of my mum in some ways. They’re really different, but both total control freaks. What about you, what did—’
‘Sorry, I—’ began Mel, before she leaned her head on the cushion and closed her eyes and bang! she was asleep, landing in her dreams with a thump.
Rebecca carefully shook Mel, poked her arm gently, then called out her name quite loudly, but she wouldn’t wake up. Rebecca was amazed how deeply she slept and wondered if it was dangerous somehow to leave her there, in the sitting-up position. Putting a cover over her and leaving a note at her feet explaining that she’d gone home, Rebecca closed the front door and let herself out of the flats. As she passed the ground-floor flat, she smelled a strong, lovely smell of cinnamon and orange. Not yet tired, she decided to walk home past the Pig and Whistle. From a street away, she could hear the DJ’s set, laughter and the sounds of empty bottles being emptied into an outside dustbin. Lenny would be hitting the Jack Daniels now, soaking up the compliments about the gig with Mack. Standing outside the pub, she looked in through the window and saw Lenny holding court at one of the tables. While he spoke, the other people at the table leaned in to him, apparently transfixed by his words. She wondered what he was talking about. Her? Doubtful. She tried to catch his attention by waving, but, when he didn’t see her, she felt embarrassed. She thought about going in. Just then, an older woman approached Lenny, whispering into his ear and resting one of her hands on his shoulder. He threw his head back, laughing, and the older woman smiled, running her finger around the rim of her glass. Rebecca didn’t like the feeling in her stomach, so she pushed open the door and walked inside, feeling her heart beat faster. Immediately, she felt out of place and, by the way people were staring at her, as if she’d fallen out of space.
‘Lenny,’ she said, approaching him. When he didn’t hear her, someone else nudged him and pointed at her. He rubbed his nose with his hand and walked towards her, grinning. The woman who had been whispering into his ear glimpsed Rebecca then evaporated into the crowd.
‘Babe,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’
‘Who was that woman?’ Rebecca asked, feeling annoyed. ‘What were you talking about?’
Not missing a beat, Lenny tapped his nose, took her by the elbow, grabbed his coat and led her outside. ‘It’s a surprise,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her. ‘You’ll soon find out. Look, do you want to get home? I don’t mind leaving now. The gig was good, but I can’t be arsed with everyone tonight. Let’s go home.’
Holding hands, they walked down the road towards their flat, opposite the looming buildings of Brighton College. Lenny took off his scarf and draped it around Rebecca, kissing her cheek.
‘When you say “surprise”,’ said Rebecca, as they walked in the darkness hand in hand, ‘I only like good ones, understand?’
Lenny shout-laughed, threw his arm over her shoulders and leaned his body into hers. ‘I heard you,’ he said, then, leaning down to talk into her bump. ‘Calling Elvis . . . did you hear that, little man?’
Chapter Nine
A week later, Lexi arrived at the Birth & Baby centre for the second antenatal class dressed in her favourite maternity ou
tfit. Not for Alan, you understand. She had spent ages deliberating between ensembles, for herself. Just before the class began, she felt her nose itch. Knowing she was about to sneeze, at the same time she registered that her bladder was full to bursting point. She’d drunk two big mugs of tea that morning, trying to finish up at work under the hawk eyes of the regional director, Beverly Swain, who wasn’t as sweet-natured as you might hope from a woman at the top of the caring profession.
‘Oh, God, I’m going to—’ she muttered, pushing open the doors at the same time as letting out an enormous sneeze. Following the sneeze came the feeling of a trickle of warm pee soaking into her underwear and out on to her trousers. Just then, Alan arrived in reception, looking at her, his sensual lips just open enough to trigger a memory of the high-pitched sounds she’d previously emitted in his company. Orgasms had historically eluded Lexi (she’d half-heartedly faked them out of politeness) and, like buses, they had all arrived at once with Alan, leaving her feeling totally besotted and the neighbours reaching for their earplugs. What was it about his penis? Was it shaped differently to that of every other man she’d dated? And was that a normal thought to be having about another woman’s partner when nearly eight months pregnant with sperm from a Danish man who would certainly never make her orgasm? Or smile. Or an omelette.
‘Oh, God,’ she said again, realizing that the pee hadn’t stopped coming. Darting shame-facedly into the Ladies’, she pushed past Katy, who was at the mirror, filling it with blonde curls and blue eyes while at the same time energetically talking into her iPhone. Lexi quickly sat on the loo, yanking down her trousers to find that an embarrassingly huge wet patch had soaked through her silk trousers.