by Linda Green
‘Oh, right,’ he says, obviously trying very hard not to be offended. ‘I bet she was pleased.’
‘Yeah. She was. A bit over the top, to be honest.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, she wanted to start looking at buggies straight away. And she’s got a drawer of baby clothes put by. No pressure there, then.’
‘Wow. Well I can’t compete with that. We might have a few of your old things in the attic, but probably nothing useful.’
‘These aren’t Lee’s old things. They’re brand new. She bought them for her grandchild before he was even conceived.’
‘That’s a bit odd.’
‘She gave me a christening gown, too. Lee’s old one. She wants the baby to wear it.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d want a christening.’
‘I don’t. I’ll have to save that argument for later. I told her to hang on to it for now.’
Dad seems thoughtful for a moment. He shakes his head a couple of times.
‘What?’
‘I’m still trying to take it all in. A year ago you hadn’t even met Lee, and now you’re going to be parents. I take it he’s happy about it?’
‘Yeah. He was the one who wanted to try.’
‘Oh, you mean it was actually planned?’
‘Great,’ I say, laughing, ‘you think I’m just one big disaster area, don’t you?’
‘No, I didn’t mean to . . . It just hadn’t occurred to me that you’d want to start a family so soon, that’s all.’
I look down and twiddle my wedding ring.
‘Well, you never know what’s around the corner, do you?’
‘Hey, come on. You know what Mum would say to that.’
‘Yeah, and she’d also tell me you never regret the things you do, only the things you don’t do.’
Dad is quiet for a moment. ‘You’ll be a brilliant mum.’
‘Will I? I can’t imagine it, somehow. I totally expect to leave the baby on the train and put nappies on backwards and do loads of stupid things like that.’
‘You’ll love your child to pieces,’ says Dad. ‘And that’s all that matters.’
*
I’ve arranged to meet Sadie by the canal. I thought the fresh air would do me good, and I didn’t want to tell her in a cafe in case she has another public meltdown. I suspect her reaction won’t be as positive as Dad’s. I mean, she’s not gaining a grandchild, is she? She isn’t gaining anything from it. Just losing a little bit more of her best friend. A best friend she’s hardly seen for the past two months.
‘Hey,’ she says, giving me a hug as she arrives. ‘How you doing, stranger?’
‘Yeah, OK, thanks.’
She looks at me. ‘Why only OK?’
I decide I may as well go for it now. ‘Well, I’ve spent most of the past six weeks chucking my guts up.’
Her mouth falls open as the penny drops. ‘Oh my god. You’re pregnant?’
I nod, giving a little smile as I do so in the hope that it will make her see it’s a good thing, at least as far as I’m concerned.
‘Fucking hell.’
I shake my head. ‘That’s great. Maybe they should start doing cards like that in the shops. “Fucking hell, you’re pregnant.”’
‘Sorry. I’m shocked, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, woman gets married, has baby. Never really been done before, has it?’
‘But it’s you, Jess. Not some random woman. My best friend who, until recently, still slobbed about in her PJs until eleven every morning. I haven’t even got my head around the fact that you’re married yet. Now I’ve got to start going shopping for maternity clothes with you.’
‘Well, that’s how it is. I’m sorry if you’re not pleased for me.’ I start walking up the towpath. I hear Sadie groan and run to catch up with me.
‘Hey, I wasn’t saying that. Of course I’m pleased. As long as you’re happy about it. Are you?’
‘Yeah,’ I say.
‘And Lee?’
‘Big time. It was his idea.’
‘So it was planned?’
‘You sound like my dad. I did make it to the sex ed classes, you know.’
‘You never told me you were going to try.’
‘Yeah, well, you made it pretty clear it was the last thing you wanted.’
We stand to the side as a kid goes past us on a bike, then walk on in silence. I know that Sadie will be the first to crack.
‘Look, I’m sorry, OK?’ she says after a bit. ‘But if this is what you really want, and you haven’t been pressured into it, then of course I’m happy for you.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I mean, it’ll be like being an auntie, right? I’ll get to do all the good bits and give the baby back to you when it throws up or needs its nappy changing.’
‘Good to know I can count on you.’
‘You can, though. Seriously. I’m here for you. I’ll even be there for the birth if you want me to.’
‘Don’t be stupid. Do you not remember what happened when you held my hand while I had my Deathly Hallows tattoo done?’
‘What, you screaming the place down and drawing blood from my palm with your fingernails, you mean? No, I’ve forgotten that entirely.’
‘Maybe I should go for a caesarean.’
‘Just get yourself knocked out with drugs. Take everything you can get your hands on.’
‘Anyway, you haven’t got to worry about that bit. Lee will be there with me.’
‘Are you sure you want that? Remember what Robbie Williams said about it being like watching your favourite pub burn down?’
‘Oh cheers.’
‘What? You always say you like the fact that I give it to you straight.’
‘Yeah, maybe not that straight, though. So when I blow up like a hippopotamus, don’t start calling me Gloria.’
‘OK, I’ll send you Madagascar gifs instead.’
‘I can’t wait.’
‘Anyway, you haven’t got to worry. I bet you’ll have one of those neat little bumps where people will hardly notice you’re pregnant.’
‘What I’d really like would be one of those pregnancies where the woman doesn’t even realise she’s up the duff until she sits on the loo and a baby pops out.’
‘I never believe those stories,’ says Sadie, as a big dog stops to sniff at her boots before bounding on.
‘I don’t now. I’ve never felt so tired and sick in my entire life.’
‘You should have told me.’
I shrug. ‘I was keeping shtum until I was three months gone.’
She hesitates. I know what she is thinking. I can see the concerned look gathering on her face.
‘But nothing bad happened, did it?’ she says softly, trying to reassure me.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Not yet.’
We stand to one side for a moment as three men in Lycra cycle past.
‘Everything will be fine,’ says Sadie.
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Let’s hope so.’
*
Lee is already back when I get home. The TV is on – Sky Sports.
‘Hi. Did they win?’ I ask, going over to the sofa and giving him a kiss.
‘Yeah. Two–nil.’
‘Good.’
‘How was your dad?’
‘Dead chuffed. Said to say congratulations.’
‘I told you he’d be fine.’
‘I know. Cheeky sod thought it was an accident, mind. Sadie said the same.’
Lee frowns at me. ‘When did you see her?’
‘Afterwards. We went for a walk along the canal.’
‘I don’t know why you still bother with her.’
I take a step back, surprised that he’s being so rude. ‘What do yo
u mean? She’s my best friend.’
‘Was. You hardly see her now. You’ve moved on.’
‘We’ve been friends since we were four, Lee.’
‘It doesn’t matter. People grow apart. You’ll have nothing in common soon. You’ll be bringing up a kid and she’ll be going out with her other single mates. You may as well let it go. It’s not like she’ll be a great loss.’
I feel myself bristling. I can’t believe he has just said that. ‘I don’t tell you who you should be mates with.’
Lee sits upright on the sofa and jabs his finger at me. ‘I don’t appreciate your tone,’ he says.
‘And I don’t appreciate you telling me to stop seeing my best mate.’
I know as soon as I say it that I shouldn’t have. He picks up the TV remote and hurls it across the room at me. I duck and it hits the wall behind me. I burst into tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says straight away, his eyes wide and staring.
‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ I sob. He jumps up off the sofa and comes towards me but I push him away.
‘Look, I overreacted. I’m sorry.’
‘You could have hurt me, or the baby.’
He sinks down to his knees on the floor, holds his head in his hands. ‘That is the last thing I would ever want to do,’ he says.
‘So why the hell did you do it?’
He looks up at me and sighs, his big eyes pleading for forgiveness. ‘My mum and dad used to row a lot,’ he says. ‘It scares me sometimes when we start to argue. I worry we’re going to end up like them.’
I find myself putting my hand on his shoulder. It’s instinctive – he is upset, and I’ve gone to comfort him. Yet I’m aware that he should be the one comforting me.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ I say. ‘But that’s still no excuse for what you did.’
‘I know. It’s you being pregnant. It’s brought it all back. Started me worrying about what sort of dad I’ll be.’
I don’t know what to say. I want to tell him he’ll be a great dad, but I don’t know if that’s true. I have no idea what’s true at the moment.
Lee gets to his feet. He holds out his hands to me. I shut my eyes and take them, wanting it all to go away. Wanting to pretend it never happened.
‘It won’t happen again,’ he says.
‘Good.’
‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just suggesting that it might be a good idea to ease things off a little with Sadie. Bit of a green-eyed monster thing going on there, if you ask me.’
‘It’s not easy when your best mate gets married.’
‘Like I said, maybe it’s time for you to move on without her.’
He pats the sofa next to him, but it feels kind of disloyal to Sadie to sit down next to him. And I don’t want him to realise that I am still shaking.
‘I’ll go and make us a tea,’ I say.
PRIVATE MESSAGE
Sadie Ward
28/05/2018 9:05am
They’ve got another witness. Your cleaner, Farah. The woman you told me about. The detective said she hadn’t told them everything before, because she was scared she would lose her job and get deported. Something about her discretionary leave being due to expire and her not wanting to do anything which might affect it being renewed. But she’s been told she can stay for good now, which is why she came forward and made a new statement. She knew, Jess. Knew about what he was doing to you. You might not have realised it at the time, but they don’t miss a thing, cleaners. They’re in your bedroom, your bathroom. They see your rubbish, they flush your toilet. They clear up your mess.
The detective said Farah saw bruises on you. Always in places that could be covered up when you left the house. She saw something else, too. The detective won’t tell me what but she says it’s important. That it strengthens our case enormously. He’s going down, Jess. We’re going to put the bastard away for good. And your dad’s got a solicitor to try to get H back. Lee’s mum’s hanging on to him for now, but she won’t be able to if Lee’s found guilty. We’ll get him back for you, Jess. If it’s the last thing we do.
Jess
Monday, 28 November 2016
I am shaking in the bathroom as I read it. Our cleaner, who I have never even met, is going to testify against Lee. Why? What reason could she have? Other than telling the truth, that is.
Maybe Lee complains about her and she loses her job and wants to get her revenge? But he’s always said she’s a great cleaner. She is. We get back from work every Monday and the place is spotless. It really does feel like we’re living in a hotel. And she’s reliable, too – never fails to turn up.
I put my phone in my dressing gown pocket and open the pedal bin, peering at the contents inside. What does she see? Does she find something in there? Something hidden?
A knock at the bathroom door makes me jump. The bin clangs shut. The door opens and Lee’s face peers around it. ‘Are you nearly ready? We need to leave at ten past.’
‘Yeah, I’ll be out in a few minutes.’
He glances at my maternity bra and knickers hanging up behind the door.
‘On with the passion killers then,’ he says. ‘I don’t want to be late.’
I breathe out as he shuts the door behind him. I’d tried to tell him I’d be fine to go to the scan on my own. I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to have him around when I saw the image of H on the screen. I don’t think I’ll react like other mums, seeing their babies for the first time. Because it won’t be the first time I’ve seen him.
But Lee has insisted on coming. Said he’s not going to miss out on the opportunity of seeing his child for the first time. And now I can’t decide whether to be pleased about that or terrified. Because the signs are there now – the flashes of temper, losing control. And it’s making me think he may, after all, be capable of the terrible things I have been reading about.
*
We sit down in the clinic waiting room. It’s the first time I have been surrounded by other pregnant women. As much as I don’t want to compare myself to them, it’s hard not to. Several have bigger bumps than me. One smaller. Almost all of them are older. Most are a lot older. I wonder if they’re looking at me and thinking I’m too young to be a mum. The song ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ starts going around in my head. I’m glad Lee is here with me, otherwise they’d probably have me down as a single mum as well. I feel like getting a ‘planned pregnancy’ sign to put on my bump. Everyone we’ve told so far seems to think it must have been a mistake, a case of getting carried away on our honeymoon. People have no idea that this baby was more than planned. It already exists, out there in the future. All we were doing was making sure it arrived on time.
‘Mrs Griffiths?’ calls a woman in a blue uniform. Lee has to give me a nudge. I still haven’t got used to the new name yet.
‘Yes,’ I say, standing up.
‘Would you like to come through?’
‘Can my husband come too?’ I ask.
‘Yes, of course.’ She smiles.
We follow her through to a dimly lit room with a couch in the centre, surrounded by various hospital machines and screens.
‘Right,’ she says, looking at my notes, ‘if you could just pop yourself up there and pull your leggings down a little and your top up so I can get a good look at your bump.’
I do as I am told. She puts paper towels inside the waist of my leggings and under my top.
‘That’s just to stop the gel from getting on your clothes,’ she says. ‘It might feel a bit cold when I put it on, but we need it to get clear pictures.’
Lee takes my hand. His palm is clammy in mine. Or maybe it is mine that is clammy, I’m not sure. I look at his face staring at the screen, desperate for something recognisable to appear. I try to imagine what this would be like if I didn’t know everything was fine. I
f I was worried about all the usual things people are worried about, instead of being worried about what my husband might do to me when this baby is three months old.
She rolls the device around for a minute.
‘Someone’s very active this morning.’ She smiles again.
‘Is he?’ I ask.
Lee looks around at me quizzically, as does the sonographer.
‘My husband thinks it’s a boy,’ I say quickly.
‘Well, if it keeps still for a moment, I might be able to let you know. I take it you’d like to?’
We both nod. Something comes into focus on the screen. He is lying with his head to the left, his little nose sticking up in the air. It looks like he’s blowing bubbles. The sonographer twists the screen so we can see more clearly. Lee squeezes my hand, a smile lighting up his face. ‘Well, everything’s looking fine there,’ she says after a while. ‘And your husband’s right. You have a little boy.’
Lee starts to cry. Proper man tears. He buries his head against my shoulder and I hold him to me. ‘It’s OK,’ I whisper. ‘Everything’s going to be OK.’
I am telling him and I’m telling H, and most of all, I am telling myself.
*
We sit in Lee’s car afterwards, staring at the black and white printout of the scan. Angela had suggested we have a 3D one. She showed me what the images look like on her iPad, but I thought they all looked like Dobby from Harry Potter, to be honest. Which is why I said the 2D one would be fine.
And it is. It is still quite clearly H. It’s weird, but I actually recognise him from the photos. It’s like going back in time. I wish I could erase the future from my head and simply be happy in this moment.
‘He’s perfect,’ says Lee. ‘Absolutely perfect.’
‘I know. I love his little nose.’
‘That must be your nose.’
‘No. He looks like you. He’s going to look just like you.’
‘Now we know it’s a boy,’ says Lee. ‘Am I allowed to start suggesting names?’
I feel my hand clenching the piece of paper tighter.
‘You can suggest,’ I say. ‘Whether I’ll agree to any of them is another matter.’