He nodded. ‘I love you, don’t get me wrong, but I wouldn’t be thinking about getting married if it weren’t for – you know.’ He pointed at my belly and my hand flew to it instinctively. ‘Not yet, at least. But, well – I want to do the right thing. I have to do the right thing. So – what do you think?’
I wanted to squeal with happiness. OK, so he wasn’t down on one knee presenting me with a glittering diamond ring, but he’d said he wanted to marry me and that was enough for me if it meant I was going to keep him.
‘Yes.’ I wiped a tear that had escaped down my cheek, and cleared my throat. ‘I’d love to marry you, Ray.’
‘Right then. Good.’ He fumbled in his pocket and for one ridiculous moment I thought he was going to produce a ring. But then he pulled out a cigarette packet, flipped it open and held it out to me. ‘Want one?’
I took one with shaking fingers and waited while he lit it. Then we both sat there quietly, inhaling and exhaling until the already overheated room was filled with lingering smoke. I knew it was impossible but I was convinced I could feel the baby inside me already, somersaulting around, letting me know everything was going to be all right. I rested a hand on my almost-flat stomach and sighed. Maybe the baby was right. Maybe everything really was going to work out OK after all.
And so right there, with a cup of hot chocolate in that overheated cafe on a rainy June day, Ray and me toasted our engagement. And despite everything, I felt happier than I’d felt in a long time. This, right here, was my future. I could feel it in my bones.
Days passed and I went back to work, at last, although I wasn’t sure how long I was going to keep my job if I kept taking days off the way I had been. I tried to care, but all I could really think about was Ray, and the fact that he loved me. Silly, love-struck girl.
Sandy was glad to have me back, though, at home and at work, and I told her everything over breakfast one morning when Ray had gone to see someone about some work. She raised her eyebrows when I told her about the proposal.
‘Shotgun wedding. That’s romantic.’
‘Oh Sandy, don’t be like that. I’m really happy.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, Jan, but I just – I’m worried about you, that’s all. Ray’s lovely, he really is. But I don’t want you to get hurt and this just all seems so fast.’
‘I know. But I won’t get hurt. I know what I’m doing.’
‘The refrain of girls in love everywhere.’ She smiled to soften the words but I couldn’t help feeling annoyed. Sandy was my best friend, why couldn’t she see that this was making me happy?
We sipped our tea in silence, the radio playing Dolly Parton’s ‘Love Is Like a Butterfly’ in the background, the air between us humming with unspoken words. Mine, at least. Sandy never held back from what she was thinking.
Her voice broke the silence, shattering the tension into tiny pieces. ‘It’s brilliant about the baby, though. Does this mean I’m going to be Aunty Sandy?’
‘Of course! I want this baby to love you almost as much as it loves me. And its daddy, of course.’
She fell silent a moment. ‘I assume this means you’ll be moving out? In with Ray?’
‘I – I hadn’t really thought about it.’ It seemed strange but it was true. I hadn’t. In my mind I suppose I’d assumed we’d stay where we were, living with Sandy in a happy little bubble, going out with her and Mal, just the same as always but with the baby in tow. But the truth was, of course, that it was unlikely to work once the baby arrived.
‘Well, you’d better think about it. Ray won’t want to be living here with me, you and the baby. And to be honest, Janny, I’m not sure I want that either. It would be – weird.’
I nodded. She was right. It would be weird. It was something I needed to talk to Ray about.
In the end, though, I didn’t need to bring it up at all, because he did it first.
The sun was dipping below the horizon by the time Ray returned later that day, and his face was alight.
‘Ray, what’s happened?’
He stumbled through the door and I could smell alcohol on his breath again.
‘Oh Ray, are you drunk?’
He smiled at me, his face lopsided.
‘I’ve only had a couple of pints, to toast the baby,’ he said, and snaked his arms round my waist. He dipped his head level with my belt and whispered, ‘Daddy’s going to look after you, you know. I promise.’
I pushed him away, laughing. ‘Don’t be daft, it can’t hear you.’ But I was secretly pleased that he seemed finally to be accepting that this was happening. That he was going to be a daddy.
‘She can.’
‘What makes you so certain it’s a she?’ I said, smiling.
‘Course it’s a she, proper daddy’s girl. But anyway, even if she can’t hear me it’s better to be safe than sorry.’ He pecked me on the nose and walked up the stairs. I shut the front door and followed a few seconds behind. Sandy was in the living room but Ray ignored her and walked straight to my room, and I shrugged an apology as I passed.
I shut the bedroom door and turned to find Ray sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me. His face was serious.
‘Ray, what’s the matter?’
He watched me a moment longer and then his face broke into a huge grin.
‘Nothing’s the matter – I’ve got great news!’
‘What?’
‘I’ve got us a house!’
I looked round at my little room, where I’d lived for more than four years.
‘But I’ve got a house.’
‘Yes, but you can’t live here when the baby’s born. When our baby’s born. And when we get married we want to be together, don’t we?’ He grinned and, even though I’d hoped this would be something we could decide together, not just have him decide for me, I couldn’t stop myself grinning back. At least he wanted us to be together, a proper little family.
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
He nodded. ‘Good. Great. Well, I’ve sorted it all out. I’ve rented us a little house with a garden so the baby can play outside, and it’s got two bedrooms. And there’s more.’ He paused and I waited for him to continue. ‘I’ve got a job!’
‘A job? But – you’ve got a job. Sort of.’
‘Yes, yes, I know, but – well, playing in the band isn’t exactly reliable, and I can’t just keep buying and selling things for the rest of my life. So I’ve got myself a job in the sweet factory in town.’
‘A factory?’ I couldn’t help it. I knew he meant well but this was totally wrong for him. ‘But – that’s not what you want to do. Not at all. What about all your dreams of making your fortune with a band? You’re never going to do that, holed up in a factory every day.’
He shook his head. ‘You’re missing the point, Jan. I’ve got to grow up now. It’s not just about me any more, and about what I want. It’s about me, you and the little one.’ He reached out and pressed his hand on my tummy and I moved closer. ‘I’ve got to look after you both. It’s my job.’
I shook my head. ‘Oh Ray, you silly sausage. I love you because of who you are, not despite it. I don’t want you to go and get a job you hate just to bring in some money. We can make do with what we both earn, we can get by without you having to give up your dream. It’s part of you. It’s who you are.’
I sat down on the bed next to him and felt the mattress shift beneath my weight.
‘But it’s not. It’s not who I am any more, from this day on. That was me before. Now, I’m going to be a dad. And that means everything has to change.’
I loved him for being so enthusiastic, so determined to show he could do this properly. I couldn’t help feeling worried about this enormous turnaround, though; it seemed so sudden and unexpected. But when I looked at his face I knew that he wasn’t messing around. He really meant this, and I couldn’t take it away from him. So I just nodded.
‘Well, OK, then. Thank you.’
I leaned over and kissed his cheek, his stubble rough against my lips.
‘Just promise me one thing.’
‘What?’
‘You won’t give up playing in the band? Not completely. You love it too much and I’d hate for it to come between us.’
He nodded. ‘I promise.’
‘Good. So, where are we moving to, and when?’
‘Ah. Well, that’s the other thing.’ He trained his eyes on the swirls of the carpet in front of him, refusing to meet my eye. ‘The house is in Norwich.’
‘Norwich? As in the city, Norwich, an hour away from my home?’
He nodded, still refusing to meet my eyes.
‘But I live here, in Cromer. I like living here, by the sea. It’s my home. I – I’m not sure I want to live in the city. Especially not with a baby.’
‘I knew you were going to say that.’
‘Is that why you agreed to rent the house without asking me, then? Because you knew I’d say no?’
‘No.’ He looked up sharply. ‘No, it’s not that at all. I just – I wanted to take responsibility for something, for once. I just wanted to do this right, for you. For the baby. I thought it would be easier to be there, near the hospital. Near to work. I just want us to be together, Jan. Does it really matter where we are?’
I was about to snap, yes, it does matter to me, that this was my home and I didn’t like him taking charge of everything, taking over. And that it might be near his work but it wasn’t near mine. But something in his eyes made me stop. He’d always been so sure of himself, almost cocky. Yet for the first time I saw something different. For the first time since I’d met him he looked scared, as though he had something to lose. And so I swallowed down the word ‘yes’, and instead I said, ‘No. No, I suppose it doesn’t matter at all. Thank you, Ray.’
And that was the day our lives changed again. Forever.
8
1977–1979
I walked round the tiny garden – my tiny garden – in tight circles, passing the same wall, roses, fence, trellis, honeysuckle, window, wall, roses, fence over and over again until my mind closed down and I couldn’t see them any more. In my arms my little baby girl squirmed and wriggled inside her blanket and I held her closely to my chest, trying to calm her down, trying to stop the scream that ripped from deep inside her chest every time I stopped, or every time she detected a change in the rhythm. During each brief respite from the screaming, like right now, I concentrated on keeping my breathing even, on stepping on the same paving stones, the same piece of lawn each time round, to try and prevent her from starting all over again.
The peace, when it came, was such a relief, yet so precarious I could barely enjoy it. My shoulders were hunched and tight. I tried to take deep breaths, in and out, in and out.
This was baby Kate – Kathryn, officially – and although she was only three weeks old, she’d already taken over our lives completely. She’d been born at Norwich maternity hospital on 12 March 1977 and from the moment I saw her scrunched-up eyes and the tiny blonde quiff that stuck up at the front of her little round head, I’d never felt such love. It felt as if a rocket had ripped through me, taking everything else out and leaving behind nothing but this surge of agonizing adoration, so powerful it was almost painful.
And now, while I still loved her fiercely, at times like this when she screamed and screamed as though she was never going to stop, I wasn’t sure whether I could cope. I just didn’t know if I was cut out to be a mother.
I was heading towards the end of the small patch of lawn for the umpteenth time when I heard a noise behind me. I whipped round to see Ray’s head poking round the side of the plastic back door. I made another turn and walked along the back of the garden, then walked slowly towards him, placing my feet carefully on the paving slabs as I reached the patio. ‘Hi,’ I whispered, aware of Kate’s ear pressed against my sternum. I risked stopping, but kept my body moving gently up and down in the hope that she wouldn’t object.
‘How long have you been out here?’ Ray’s voice was low.
‘Not sure. It feels like hours. What time is it?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Four.’
‘About twenty minutes.’ I glanced down at the fluffy little head beneath my chin. ‘I think she might have finally dropped off.’
‘Great. Coming inside for a cuppa?’
I nodded and we stepped into the kitchen together. I lowered myself gently into a wooden chair and leaned back, slowly letting out a lungful of air. ‘So, how was work?’
I studied the back of Ray’s head as he spooned tea leaves into the pot and took cups from the mug tree. His hair was longer than I’d ever seen it and it brushed the top of his collar. I longed to run my fingers through it but I knew he’d probably shake me off, irritated. It was the way he always reacted to me touching him these days, as though he wished I wasn’t there. It hurt like mad; it was such a change from how he used to be. But all I could do was hope it would pass.
His shoulders rose and dropped again and he put the teaspoon down heavily on the worktop and turned to face me, puffing out his cheeks and letting out a rush of air through his lips. ‘Oh, it’s OK. Same old same old.’ He rubbed the back of his neck furiously. ‘Get paid tomorrow, though, at least.’
He looked dejected, so unlike the bright, funny Ray I’d met just over a year ago that I felt my heart lurch.
‘You know you don’t have to do this job, don’t you? We don’t care.’
‘I know. But I do have to, that’s the point. I’ve got responsibilities now I’ve got you two to look after, haven’t I?’ He sat down heavily on the chair opposite me and leaned forward, his legs parted, elbows on his knees. ‘It’s just – it’s so soul-destroying, being in that bloody factory day after day, week after week. Nothing ever changes in that place, they all think it’s the centre of the bloody universe. It’s depressing.’
‘So leave.’
Ray sighed. ‘I can’t just up and leave. We’ve got the rent to pay on this place, bills, food. We’ve got an extra mouth to feed now as well. Not that I’d change her for the world, of course.’ A smile played at the corner of his mouth when he looked at his daughter, peaceful in my arms now, and for moment he looked like the old Ray again, the man who’d whisked me off my feet and promised me the world. I wished he had the same look of adoration on his face when he looked at me, the way he used to.
Things had changed a bit since the day we moved in. Ray had been so excited, so full of hope. Sandy had taken a photo of us standing next to Ray’s motorbike outside our little flat before we’d left, and it had felt like the end of an era. I would have felt sad but Ray was so excited, like a little puppy, that Sandy and I just hugged and said goodbye, no tears, and then we drove off. His enthusiasm had been infectious, and even when we’d pulled up outside the tiny little bungalow on the outskirts of Norwich later that morning and he’d removed his helmet and turned to me with that grin on his face, I’d swallowed down my disappointment at the tired garden, the scruffy paintwork and the sagging curtains at the windows, and had smiled back just as happily. And before we knew it, it had felt like home. Perhaps it was because it was just me and Ray and it had felt so grown-up, so exciting. I’d bought pictures for the walls from the junk shop down the road and we’d spent our weekends painting the house from top to bottom, even putting up wallpaper in the bedrooms. The baby’s room was the most important, of course, and the day Ray came home with a second-hand cot he looked so chuffed I thought he was going to burst.
He’d changed as soon as we moved in, of course. I mean, as he said, he had responsibilities now. Both our lives had changed, only for me the change was mainly about leaving my job in the clothes shop in Cromer that I’d loved, and starting to prepare for the baby, while for him it was deeper than that, more profound. He’d always been free to do whatever he liked and go wherever he liked. He’d played his heart out in tiny pubs and clubs, sometimes to rooms of no more than two or three people, but he’d always given it the same amount of effort, the same passion. He’d alw
ays done exactly as he pleased, with no one to answer to. Even when he’d met me, his life barely changed. I just went along for the ride, loving every minute of sharing it with him.
But then he’d become a dad-to-be, and he’d taken it very seriously. Instead of throwing his efforts into playing his bass guitar, he became the epitome of the perfect dad: working long hours to pay the bills, spending weekends decorating the house. He even started wearing his hair neat, taming his wild curls. I didn’t like it very much, I missed the old Ray, the Ray I’d fallen in love with, but I didn’t dare say anything. He was trying so hard.
We’d had a small wedding ceremony, just me, Ray, Sandy and Ray’s friend Pete, at the registry office in town. I’d worn a lovely green dress I’d seen in the shop down the road that I’d had to let out to accommodate my growing bump, and then we’d had a few drinks in the pub afterwards.
So I was no longer Miss Bennett. I was Mrs Wood, and I liked how it sounded, how it felt.
I liked what Ray had become in many ways, too, but I also missed the fun, carefree Ray I’d met. And I couldn’t help worrying that this was all a dream – because this behaviour just wasn’t Ray, and we both knew that. Oh, I knew he loved me, that was never in any doubt. But I worried that things had changed so much, so quickly, that one day Ray would wake up and realize what had happened to his life, and just walk out and leave us, leave me and Kate behind.
And then what would we do?
Which was why I didn’t want him to feel tied to a job he hated. Because if he did, then that day might come sooner than either of us expected.
‘Want to hold her?’
Ray nodded and I carefully passed his sleeping daughter into his waiting arms. His arms looked huge wrapped round her delicate little body, and I thought my heart was going to turn into a puddle on the floor just watching them. He gazed down at her, his eyes almost liquid with tears, and gently pressed his lips into her soft, downy hair.
‘She’s totally worth it, you know. You both are.’ The words were so quiet I almost wasn’t sure I’d heard them right, but when he looked up and smiled at me, I knew I had. I stood and walked across to him and perched myself awkwardly on the end of his knee and leaned into him, feeling his warmth. I wasn’t very comfortable and my neck ached but I felt so happy in that small moment, the three of us there together, that I didn’t move. At least, not until the pan of water on the stove for the tea threatened to boil over and spill all over the cooker.
The Mother's Secret Page 12