by Linda Green
As soon as the porter leaves I start to cry. I sit on the end of the bed with tears streaming down my face and I feel such a cow for doubting Lee because everything he’s actually done for me has been fucking amazing and it’s only inside my head that he’s turned into this monster. I think it’s because, on some level, I don’t think I deserve him. I think he is way too good for me, and I’m doing that thing of sabotaging my own happiness because, hey, woe is me and all that.
‘Listen,’ says Lee, ‘if you don’t like it, we can always try somewhere else.’ He is smiling as he says it. I shake my head, about twenty little shakes, before I am finally able to say something.
‘I love it,’ I say. ‘And I love you. And I kind of feel not worthy of all this.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ says Lee, kneeling down on the floor in front of me. ‘Or you’re going to get me quoting L’Oréal adverts in a minute.’
I stroke his face. ‘This is how it’s going to be, right?’
‘Well, I can’t really afford for us to stay here more than a fortnight.’
‘No, not this – us. This is how we’re going to be. We’re always going to be this happy.’
Lee nods. ‘Yeah. Only I don’t want it to be just us. I want to start a family and I don’t want to wait. Or to stop at one, or even two. I want to have a whole bloody football team with you.’
‘Woah, give a girl a break. Can’t we just adopt like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie?’
‘No, because I want them to be ours – yours and mine. I don’t know about you, but I hated being an only child. I don’t want them to be lonely growing up.’
‘OK, but if I turn into some big, bloated mamma who permanently smells of sick, you will still love me, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’ He smiles. ‘But you won’t. You’re going to be an amazing mum. Like you’re an amazing wife.’
He starts kissing me. I let his words seep in, let his hands caress my warm skin, and I wonder what the hell I’ve been playing at these past few months. This is my life. This is my reality. This is everything I ever wanted.
Lee is unbuttoning my shirt. All I see in my head is the photo of H. And he is smiling, his teeth poking out from shiny pink gums. And for the first time I hear him gurgling, doing all those happy baby sounds. And I know then that this is it. This is where and how he is created. It couldn’t be any more perfect. And that is all I want for him. For everything to be perfect. Lee lays me down on the bed, and I tell H silently, in my head, that I will do anything in the world for him. Anything at all.
PART FOUR
Jess
Saturday, 30 July 2016
I know the exact moment H was conceived, which is maybe why I am in no rush to do the pregnancy test. It is three days since my period was due. But it’s not as if I’m waiting on tenterhooks – it’s more like printing out an official confirmation slip. Even so, I know as I sit and wee on a stick in the bathroom at home that it will be good to see the blue line appear.
I say ‘at home’, although, if I’m honest, it still doesn’t feel like home. It feels like I’m house-sitting for someone and a little part of me is expecting them to come home from holiday at any point and kick me out. At which point I’ll have to pack my bags and go back to my old life. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it, or if it’ll only be when we move somewhere new that I feel like I belong. And we will need to, of course. An apartment like this really isn’t a place to bring a baby up in. I want H to have a garden he can run around in. Nothing big or fancy. Just a little patch of grass and enough room to kick a ball about.
I take the stick out and put the cap back on before flushing and washing my hands. I’ve heard some women say they feel different once they know. Even though they can’t possibly feel a cluster of cells inside them. I’ve felt different since the moment he was conceived. The reason I got up and went swimming every morning before breakfast was so that I could talk to him without Lee hearing. It felt like I was spending time with him already. I even heard him gurgle as I lay on my back in the water. He liked it, I know he did. And I love him. I am absolutely besotted with him. I love having someone more important than me to think about. Someone who I would lay down my life for. Though maybe I already have.
I slap the thought down as soon as it comes to me. I have not been allowing those thoughts into my head since the honeymoon. I have not gone on Facebook since I’ve been back either. Because last time I did, I ended up nearly walking out on my own wedding. I am not going to be that stupid again – I have too much to lose now. And I don’t want to drive myself half crazy by reading that stuff.
I take the lid off the stick and find the blue line there. It is bluer even than the example on the diagram. Blue and strong and true. H is here. He is right inside me. I knew it already but now I have proof for the rest of the world. No one can doubt me. No one can say it is simply inside my head. It is here, in blue and white. He exists.
I hadn’t planned on telling Lee straight away. I’d thought I might want to keep it to myself for a little longer. But, actually, I’ve been keeping it to myself for so long that I am fit to burst.
I come out of the bathroom and go through to the kitchen where Lee is making us coffee. I have put the cap back on but I am still holding the test in my hand. He turns and looks at me. His eyes fall to the test and dart back to my face. His eyebrows rise questioningly. I nod, unable to stop a smile from creeping onto my face.
Lee comes towards me, grinning broadly, and picks me up.
‘Bloody hell, you don’t waste any time, do you?’
‘You were the one who said you wanted to start trying straight away.’
‘I know, and I did. I do. I just didn’t expect it to happen quite so fast.’
‘Well, it did. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’
Tears well up in Lee’s eyes. The man who I have never seen shed a tear, who took great pride in telling me he didn’t even cry when Simba’s dad died in The Lion King, is shedding them now for his son.
‘I love you, Mrs Griffiths.’
‘I love you too.’
‘And him,’ Lee says, placing his left hand on my stomach. I’m taken aback for a second.
‘Why do you say him?’
‘Just a feeling, that’s all. I told you I wanted a football team.’
‘It could be a women’s football team.’
‘Could be, but I don’t think so. Not the first one anyway.’
It’s all I can do to stop myself from telling him that he’s right. The temptation to blurt out the whole thing is overwhelming. Well, not the whole thing, obviously, but part of it. I want to run and get my phone and show him the photos. Only he wouldn’t be able to see them. And then he’d think I’d lost it. At which point he would leave me.
Instead, I simply smile and say, ‘Let’s wait and see.’
Lee beams at me and shakes his head and looks for all the world like a little kid who’s just got the best Christmas present ever. And I love the fact that I gave it to him.
‘Are you feeling OK?’ he asks. ‘I mean, you’re not feeling sick or anything?’
‘No. I’m fine. I feel great, actually.’
‘Good. Wow, I’m going to be a dad. I still can’t quite get my head round that.’
‘I know. I don’t feel old enough to be a parent. All that responsibility.’
He looks at me. He still looks like a little kid, although this time a scared one. ‘We’ll be OK, though, won’t we? We won’t screw our kids up.’
‘No. We’ll be fine. We’ll muddle through like everyone else does, I guess.’
He shakes his head again. ‘Wait till I tell Carl he’s going to need another new receptionist.’
‘I don’t want to tell anyone yet. People usually wait three months. Just in case, you know, anything happens.’
‘Yeah, sure. Anyway, he did
say one of the other girls he interviewed was good. Maybe he can go back to her. See if she’d like a permanent job.’
‘Permanent?’
‘Well, yeah. You’re not going to need to go back to work afterwards, are you?’
I look at him, unable to hide my irritation at that. ‘I might want to.’
‘Of course you won’t. You’ll be bringing up our kid – that’s much more important, isn’t it?’
I turn and walk away as I blow out.
‘What?’ he asks, his jaw tightening.
‘Er, that sounded a little bit 1950s.’
His expression darkens. He stuffs his hands in his dressing gown pockets. ‘Well, it wasn’t meant to be. I don’t want our kid being looked after by someone else, that’s all.’
‘Your mum does it.’
‘What?’ he says, frowning.
‘I mean, she’ll help out when the baby’s born. She’s already said she’d like to.’
‘When?’
‘She talked about it before the wedding. Said she’d be happy to come round every day to give me a break.’
‘Well, you still don’t need to go to work.’
I shake my head, trying to work out how we got from being elated about me being pregnant to having our first row.
‘I might go stir-crazy, staying here with a baby all day. Anyway, we might need the cash.’
Lee does a little laugh.
‘What?’
‘Well, you coming back to work a couple of days a week is hardly going to make much difference, isn’t it?’
His words sting me. It almost feels as if he has actually hit me.
‘We might need a bit extra. I mean, we’re not going to be able to stay here, are we? We haven’t even got a nursery.’
Lee turns his back on me and walks over to the window. ‘They have two-bedroom apartments here. There are some on the next floor down. And it won’t cost much more. I can certainly cover the difference without you having to go out to work.’
He has riled me now. I am not going to let it drop, even though I know that’s what he wants.
‘Shouldn’t we be getting a house? You know, something with a garden?’
‘We don’t need a garden. There are parks and stuff. Besides, if we have a garden we’ll only end up with one of those crappy red and yellow plastic playhouses. That’s what happened to Carl and his wife and I’m not ready to go there just yet.’
Lee stomps out of the kitchen. I was going to say I don’t fancy lugging a buggy up the stairs if the apartment lifts are ever broken, but I don’t see the point of arguing any further. He is clearly not in the mood to listen. Besides, I can’t tell him what I’m really thinking, which is that H won’t want to be cooped up in an apartment all day. He’ll want a garden to play in. He’ll need fresh air. I want him to be able to play in the street with other kids. There are no kids here. I put my hand on where my bump will be in a few months. My bubble has been well and truly burst.
*
I stand behind the desk at work, wondering if anyone else can tell. I feel so different that I can’t help thinking I must look different too. I remember the pregnant receptionist who was here when I came for my interview, how uncomfortable she looked in her high heels. I still don’t know who gave her ‘the look’ about wearing flats. At the time, I assumed it was Carl, but after the row I had with Lee on Saturday, I am not so sure.
I can’t imagine my colleagues will be very impressed when they find out. One or two of them were a bit sniffy when they found out we were getting married. I can imagine what they’re saying behind my back. I mean, one of the directors gets his girlfriend a job with the company, marries her, knocks her up and she’s off again, all within the space of a year. They’ll probably make jokes about me in the bar after work. Not that I’ll ever hear about it. I’ll be long gone by then.
The door opens and a young man with floppy blonde hair comes in, flashing me a toothpaste-advert smile as he approaches the desk.
‘Hi, how can I help you?’ I ask.
‘Hi. I’m here to see Lee Griffiths. It’s Dan Templeton.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Do take a seat. I’ll let Lee know you’re here.’
He sits down, crosses his legs and loosens his tie slightly. I call Lee, but his line is engaged. I put the phone down for a second.
‘Can I get you a coffee?’ I ask.
‘That would be great, thanks. Black, no sugar.’
I try Lee once more but the line is still engaged. I make the coffee and take it over to Dan. ‘Here you go,’ I say, handing it to him.
‘Thanks,’ he says, frowning slightly. ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’
Although on paper it’s an obvious chat-up line, it honestly isn’t said like one.
‘Um, I don’t think so. I’m fairly new here.’
‘Where were you before?’
‘Not a PR firm. I actually worked at the independent cinema in town.’
‘That’s where I know you from,’ he says, jabbing the air with his finger. ‘I go there all the time. I’ve seen you on the front desk and I think you’ve served me a couple of times.’
‘Wow, I’m impressed you remember me. I looked a bit different then.’
‘I never forget a pretty face,’ he says.
I smile, flushing slightly. I am suddenly aware of footsteps behind me. I turn to see Lee standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking quizzically at me.
‘Oh, er, Dan Templeton’s here to see you.’
‘I can see that.’
‘I did try you but you were on the phone.’
He nods, stony-faced, and turns to his client. ‘Hi, Dan, sorry to keep you. Please do come straight up.’
Dan picks up his coffee, flashing me another smile as he goes past. I scuttle back behind my desk like an animal running for cover. I don’t know why I am reacting like this – it’s not as if I’ve done anything wrong. It was simply the look on Lee’s face.
I busy myself for half an hour or so, though, in truth, I really haven’t got much to do. But I make sure I’m tapping away on the computer when I hear two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs.
‘Thanks again for coming in, Dan,’ I hear Lee say from behind me. ‘I’ll be in touch soon.’
‘Great. Thanks for your time,’ Dan replies. I glance up as he walks past – I was told always to smile at clients as they left the building.
‘Good to see you again,’ Dan says with a grin.
‘You too,’ I reply.
He pulls the door behind him. Lee walks up to me. His face is like thunder. I can feel his hot breath on my face.
‘Where do you know him from?’ he asks.
‘He used to go to the cinema, that’s all. He remembered me.’
‘That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know. He said he was a regular.’
Lee raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, I’ll arrange to meet him somewhere else next time.’
‘There’s no need for that.’
‘You want him to come here, do you?’ he snaps at me.
My whole body tenses. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘That’s what it sounded like.’
‘I was just saying he wasn’t bothering me, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, well, he was bothering me.’
Lee turns and heads back upstairs. I stand there for a second, still not quite sure what I have been accused of. I have never seen Lee like this before; he has never struck me as the jealous type. Then again, I don’t suppose I’ve been around many other men when I’ve been with him. The only male friend I invited to the wedding was Adrian and his male partner. I wasn’t even flirting with Dan. It was such a massive overreaction. I sigh and go back to my computer screen, hoping he’ll have a very good explanation.
*
Lee doesn’t mention it again until that evening, when we get into bed.
‘Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I realise I probably came over as a bit heavy.’
I shrug. I don’t want him to know how much it upset me. I couldn’t concentrate on my work for the rest of the day. ‘He really wasn’t causing a problem, you know.’
‘I get a bit overprotective, sometimes,’ says Lee. ‘I think you being pregnant has made things worse. I kind of feel like it’s my duty to protect you. Both of you.’
‘I can handle myself, you know. I thought you might remember that.’
‘Yeah, well. That was before.’
‘Before what?’
‘Before you were married to me. Before you were carrying my child.’
‘I’m still capable of calling out an arsehole when I see one.’
‘Well, you shouldn’t have to. Not now. I’m looking after you, OK?’
I give a little nod, simply because it’s easier than continuing the argument. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I’d rather get to sleep, to be honest.
Lee pulls me into him and kisses me. A proper kiss, rather than a goodnight one. I think for a moment about telling him I’m too tired, but I find myself worrying about what his reaction will be. Besides, Mum always used to say that couples should never go to bed on an argument. We need this. We need to reconnect again. Then everything will be OK.
Jess
September 2008
‘How often do you think about death, Jess?’ Edward asks. He told me to call him Edward, although his official name is Professor Jenkins. Paula, the educational psychologist, referred me to him because she thought I needed more specialist help. Which is a polite way of saying I am cracking up.
‘Do you want the honest answer, or the one I should give you if I don’t want you to think I’m a fruit loop?’
‘Honest is usually best.’ He smiles.