‘I still miss him, you know.’
I look down at my hands and my eyes are immediately drawn to my wedding finger. I am still wearing my wedding ring.
‘That’s natural. I’m not trying to replace Dan. He is the father of your kids. I just want us to be happy.’ Twisting the ring round and round I decide enough is enough.
‘OK,’ I say taking my wedding band off and putting it down on the table, ‘let’s do it.’
‘Really? As easy as that?’ he looks incredulous.
‘Why not? I have to let go of the past. I miss Hope every second of every day and I will never get over her loss. But I owe it to Gracie to be happy. She has to be my focus now. She loves having you, and Eva around. So do I.’
‘I thought you’d tell me to go take a leap.’
‘I don’t know which one of us is more shocked but we’ve had such a lovely week. Why does it have to end there? We all deserve some happiness. I know that Danny would want me to be happy.’ My wedding ring has left a tan mark on my finger. I can’t erase my marriage to him so easily. ‘You are a good man, Mike. You’re a great father to Eva and you’ve been my rock. I don’t need to think twice. Let’s do it.’
‘You don’t know how happy that makes me, Lib.’ He reaches over the table, takes hold of my hand and kisses it. ‘This is going to be a new chapter for all of us.’
I nod, knowing he is right but not knowing if I am really ready.
Hope
When I was little, like Gracie is, I didn’t mind the dark. Gracie doesn’t like it and we have to leave the door open a bit so she doesn’t cry.
Before she was born, Mummy and Daddy said they would get me a nightlight if I wanted but I said I liked the dark because it was cosy and I couldn’t see anything that would scare me.
Now, I don’t like the dark and I wish that when they said they would buy me a light I had said yes. Because now I spend all my time in the dark and it makes me think about the time I spent at home, in my room. I used to like it there but now I know I won’t ever like the dark again.
Instead of not seeing horrid things I think that they are probably all around me. And I think that I am still being watched. Not knowing who is watching makes me feel really scared.
Sometimes I think I am like James, in James and the Giant Peach, trapped in a fruit and a big, hairy spider is outside trying to eat its way in. I keep thinking it wants to eat me and it is saving me until last, like I do when Mummy makes a roast and I leave the Yorkshire pudding until last, because it is my favourite.
Mummy always gives me extra ones if I eat all the rest of my food and I always do because I love Yorkshire pudding so much. Mummy’s is the best and the one they gave us at school with our Christmas dinner wasn’t very nice.
It makes me feel really hungry thinking about my favourite food. After eating a roast at home we would always get ice cream for dessert. My favourite is chocolate but Gracie likes strawberry best, so Mummy has to keep two tubs in the freezer. And it’s funny because Gracie always asks for dessert but never finishes it so I usually get to eat two bowls of ice cream. Daddy and Mummy roll their eyes when I slide her bowl over but they don’t stop me from eating it.
Daddy says he doesn’t like waste but I think that they are just being kind to me. I can’t really remember what that feels like now because it has been so long since I saw them. It’s like I can’t even picture their faces that well any more. The memories are going a bit blurry. Like I am looking at them through a fog. I hope they don’t fade away forever and I hope they haven’t forgotten about me.
JULY 2016
Libby
‘I’m pregnant.’ The words sound foreign to my ears.
Mike stands there motionless letting my announcement sink in. I’m not sure either of us remembers to breathe.
It’s been a hot day and the girls are upstairs asleep.
Since returning from the Algarve we decided that Mike and Eva would move into my house and would sell theirs. Once the house is sold we can then decide if we want to stay in Mill Cottage or if we’ll look for somewhere new to start our lives together.
Mike drops his bag onto the floor and a smile creeps across his face.
‘Ah, Lib, that’s wonderful.’ He dashes across the room and sweeps me up into his arms.
‘Is it?’ The idea still hasn’t sunk in properly.
‘Isn’t it?’ He lowers me back down so my feet are on the ground and takes a step back.
‘I don’t know. This is not what we planned.’
‘Sometimes you’ve just got to go where life takes you.’
‘Life has taken me to some pretty shitty places over the last few years, Mike. I don’t know how many more surprises I can take.’
‘This isn’t like what happened to Hope and Danny. This is something totally different. This is a good surprise.’ I see the hurt in his eyes.
‘We’ve only been together for a few short months. We’ve only just moved in together. This is bonkers.’
‘So what do you wanna do then? Get rid? Is that what you’re telling me?’
‘Don’t talk to me like that. Like I’m some sort of monster that goes round having abortions left right and centre. It’s not fair. It’s a shock, Mike. I just need some time to get my head round it.’
‘How far gone are you?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe eight weeks. I thought we were being careful.’
‘Accidents happen.’ He shrugs, which annoys me as I turn away and slump down onto the sofa. Mike comes and stands behind me and starts rubbing my shoulders. ‘Go and have a bath. Relax for a bit. You feel really tense. We can talk about it after.’
‘It’s too hot to have a bath.’ I sit forward moving away from his massaging hands.
‘Jesus, Lib. What do you want me to say? This is a surprise to me too, you know.’ Mike storms out of the room and heads into the kitchen. ‘I’m getting a beer,’ he calls out gruffly.
‘Don’t be cross,’ I start to soften. ‘Please come and talk to me.’
Mike reappears in the doorway holding a bottle of beer and frowning. ‘I’m not sure anything I say is going to make a difference.’
‘Of course it is. I need to know how you feel about it.’ I pat the seat of the sofa next to me. Taking a large gulp of beer Mike nods then comes and sits down.
‘I’m forty-seven years old. For most of Eva’s life I’ve been a single parent. Did I ever imagine I’d have more children? No. I didn’t. But then I didn’t know that you and I would end up together and I didn’t know I could be this happy again. My place is on the market and we’ve got a good thing going on. Sure, this wasn’t planned but I don’t see why we can’t do it. You’re a good mum. We can offer a child a secure loving home. It’s that simple as far as I see it, but I’ve not been through what you have and it’s not my body. I guess I’m saying I’ll support your decision – but I think we can make this work.’
‘What about Eva and Gracie? They are happy it being just the two of them. Another child, one that would be their half-brother or half-sister might complicate things.’
‘True. Or it might be great.’ Mike puts his beer down on the table and rests his hand on my knee. ‘You’ve already lost one child, Lib. Do you really wanna lose another?’
I hadn’t thought of it like that.
‘You know it’s Hope’s birthday just around the corner.’ Sadness blankets me.
‘Yes. I know.’
When he rests his hand gently on my belly I know what I am going to do.
OCTOBER 2016
Libby
Mike has been really busy with work and so I’ve taken over dealing with the sale of his house. A nice elderly couple, who are moving from Kent to be closer to their daughter, have made an offer that he has accepted. It has all happened so quickly.
The morning sickness was dreadful a first. I couldn’t leave the sofa without wanting to throw up. It was really severe but the Dr Vogler told me it would pass. It did but not before I’d had w
eeks of feeling like shit.
When Mike and I sat down to tell the girls, I was petrified. Things had been going so well with the four of us and I was concerned that a new addition would throw it all off kilter. But to my surprise Eva was extremely excited. Her face lit up and she threw her arms around me, saying that she’d always wanted a real brother or sister.
Gracie was more reserved about it all. I got the feeling she thought we were trying to replace Hope. She’d gotten used to being my number one and the idea of a baby coming into our lives made her feel uneasy. Luckily Eva’s enthusiasm started to rub off on her and soon she, too, was looking forward to the new arrival.
After lots of discussion Mike and I decided that we wanted to know the sex of the child. We’d had enough surprises and uncertainty already. We thought the knowledge would help us feel in control.
We were both nervous as we sat in the hospital waiting room waiting to be called in for the twenty-week scan. Mike’s right knee kept jiggling and I had to nudge him in the ribs to get him to stop. All around us were other pregnant women, stroking their stomachs looking lovingly at their partners. Mike and I couldn’t look at each other at all. I felt slightly sick. I’d gone over this day in my head so many times. Whether the child is male or female I knew I would love it but it would have been foolish to deny that I was nervous. Part of me was terrified it would be a girl. A boy would have been easier. It would have been a new adventure having a son. The thought of having another daughter left me feeling uneasy. What if the child looked like Hope? Would that be a good or a bad thing?
Then a slightly overweight Eastern European nurse in blue overalls appeared in the doorway and called us in. I collected my handbag from my feet and Mike and I shuffled out of the waiting room.
Our footsteps echoed as we followed the nurse down a brightly lit corridor.
‘In here.’ She held the door open and I squeezed in past her, followed by Mike who stood awkwardly while I lay down on the bed and lifted my jumper up over my bump.
‘Is this your first baby?’ She started tucking paper into my pants so that the jelly wouldn’t get onto my clothes.
‘No. It isn’t.’ The gel was cold on my stomach but she didn’t bother to warn me. I’d been through it before, though, so it didn’t come as a shock.
Then the nurse sat down heavily on a stool, picked up the ultrasound scanner and started to roll it backwards and forwards over my lubricated white skin.
After a minute or two of her pressing down on various areas of my tummy that sound comes flooding out of the machine, like horses’ hooves galloping across country fields.
‘Baby heartbeat.’ She told us, clearly rather uninterested.
Mike moved closer to the machine and peered over me at the black and white image on the screen. The foetus moved, arching its back, like it was doing stretches before a sporting event.
‘You want to know the sex?’ The grumpy nurse asked.
Mike and I looked at each other to make sure we were on the same page.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘we want to know.’
‘Baby is going to be,’ her pause seemed to last forever as she rolled the scanner around, making sure she could see clearly, ‘a girl.’
‘At least we don’t have to buy lots of new stuff.’ Mike had his arm around my shoulder as we left the hospital and stepped out into the autumn drizzle. I hadn’t said a word since we’d left the ultrasound room. My head was going round and round trying to work out how I felt about the news. ‘I reckon the girls will be stoked.’ He dug about in his trouser pocket for the car keys. ‘Hey, what’s up?’ He looked over the roof of the car at me and saw the tears gathering in my eyes.
‘A girl.’ The words came out in a whisper.
‘She’s gonna be so loved, Lib.’
‘What if I can’t protect her?’ the sentence trailed off into the wind.
‘Don’t think like that. What happened to Hope...’ It was his turn to leave the sentence unfinished as the rain began to come down harder.
‘I want us to move.’ I shake the raindrops off my nose as I get into the car. ‘I’m sorry but I cannot bring up another daughter in that house. Too many memories.’
‘I understand.’ Mike puts the keys in the ignition and starts the engine.
‘Why don’t we all move into your house and sell mine instead. The contracts haven’t been exchanged yet. It’s not too late.’
‘My place is too small Lib. That wouldn’t work.’ Typical man. Always being practical.
‘But I can’t stay at Mill cottage. Please let’s find somewhere new before she is born.’
After a week or so I’d got used to the idea that Mike and I were going to have a daughter. I even started to get excited about it and began going through the baby clothes I had stored in the attic. It was hard seeing things that Hope had worn but a bit of me liked the idea that a part of her would live on through the baby.
Mike and I even discussed names. It wasn’t an easy conversation in some ways, because we weren’t married and had never discussed it, but I reassured him that the child would have his surname. It seemed right.
‘I think we should call her May.’ He said one evening as we sat having dinner. ‘She was likely conceived in May.’
‘I like it,’ I pushed my spaghetti around my plate.
‘But?’ he put his folk down.
‘I thought maybe we could call her Faith. As in Hope, Grace and Faith.’
Mike sat back in his chair and looked at me.
‘But this kid is going to be a Kelly, Lib, not a Bird.’ He said it kindly.
‘You’re right, of course. It was a stupid suggestion.’
‘It wasn’t stupid, but I think we need to look to the future, that’s all.’
Not wanting to get emotional about it I turned my concentration to eating.
‘May,’ I said through a mouthful of pasta, ‘that’s a good name.’
Libby
Mike’s house, on Coploe Road, is a small, detached two-bedroom cottage. It is on the far side of the village, right on the outskirts on the incline of a small hill, the only one around for miles. On the outside it has seen better days. The white paint is grubby in places and could have done with a touch up here and there. But the petite front lawn is immaculate. He takes pride in mowing the grass and keeping the weeds away.
Inside it lacks a woman’s touch. There are very few pictures on the walls and most of the windows have blinds and not curtains. The sofa was butch and there wasn’t a sign of a cushion anywhere. He’d tried his best to make it homely but, like a lot of men, he just wasn’t very good at it.
Going through his house gave me an insight to him that I’d not seen before. In his bedroom, at the back of his wardrobe, was a large bag full of items that belonged to his dead wife. He’d even kept her wedding dress. Mike is more sentimental than I’d given him credit for.
I collect the girls from school and we make our way to his house. I leave them munching crisps and drawing pictures in the sitting room while I make a start on Eva’s room. She wasn’t interested in helping to go through her things and I am secretly grateful. I know very well how girls never throw anything away, and I am glad to be able to have a cull without her interfering.
Her room is a mess of toys and clothes. Armed with black sacks I put things into piles. On one side of the room I make a bundle of things we would keep and on the other side a large heap of rubbish quickly forms. Since Eva has most of her things now at Mill Cottage I can be merciless with what I discard.
Once the floor is clear and I can actually see the carpet, I get down on all fours and reach under her bed, pulling out handfuls of things she had long forgotten. Crumpled girl’s magazines, pencils, books, small plastic toys and bits of Lego all went into the junk pile. Right at the back, against the wall, I can make out one more thing that I have to really reach to get. Coughing from the dust, I sit up holding the object in my hand.
I freeze.
I am holding a small pin
k plimsoll. It is identical to the pair Hope was wearing when she disappeared.
Dropping the shoe onto the floor I wriggle backwards, on my bum, away from it. There it lies, covered in dust. I half expect it to move. I feel as if I’ve seen a ghost. The child in my stomach gives a hard kick as if she too feels unnerved.
Frantically I search the room for the pair. If I can just find the other shoe, then everything would be OK. I rummage through the drawers, the cupboard, turn the duvet inside out, pushed the bed away from the wall in case the other plimsoll is lodged there. Nothing. I can’t find the pair anywhere in that room.
Desperate, I tear through the pile of rubbish in case it has ended up in there. By the time I’ve finished hunting, the room is back to being the state it had been in before all of my hard work.
I hold the shoe to my chest and hurry downstairs to talk to Eva. The girls are staring at the TV like zombies, their empty crisp packets discarded on the floor with their shoes.
‘Eva,’ I do my best to keep my voice calm and steady. ‘Can I have a word sweetheart?’
She remains fixed to the television.
‘Eva, can you come here please,’ I speak louder, ‘I need your help with something.’
She turns and looks at me, irritated that I’ve interrupted her programme. For a split second she looks just like her father. ‘Can’t I finish watching Shaun the Sheep first?’ she huffs.
‘No. I’ll be quick. Just come here for a moment.’ I don’t want Gracie to see the shoe. She gets off the sofa and stomps towards me. I am getting a taste for what lies ahead and the teenage years.
‘What?’ she folds her arms across her chest and only half looks at me, while still trying to see the TV.
‘Is this your shoe?’ I ask holding up the grubby pink plimsoll.
Frailty: a haunting psychological page-turner Page 21