Jake frowned. And then the voice came back into his head; ‘She will be fine. Don’t worry.’ It was so clear that he looked round at the nurse. But she hadn’t said anything.
The nurse took him to the special baby unit. He had to put on a cap and a gown and and wash his hands before he went into the room. It was light and warm with several funny-looking cots with see-through tops and wires coming out of them attached to monitor screens that were pulsing with lines going up and down. It was very quiet.
The nurse spoke to a doctor who was checking one of the babies and explained who Jake was. The doctor led Jake over to a cot by itself in the corner.
‘Here she is. Here’s your sister.’
Jake hardly dared to breathe as he bent down and peered at the tiny scrap of life lying there with tubes and wires coming out of her.
‘She’s so small!’ he whispered. ‘And she’s sort of yellow!’
The doctor smiled at him. ‘That’s because she came so early,’ he said.
Jake continued to stare. He couldn’t believe that this tiny thing was a real person.
‘You can touch her, if you like,’ said the doctor, and he showed Jake how to put his hand through one of the holes in the side of the lid.
‘I won’t hurt her, will I?’
The doctor shook his head and, very carefully, Jake put his hand through the hole and touched the baby’s skin. It was soft and warm.
‘Put your finger into the palm of her hand,’ said the doctor.
Jake’s hand looked huge and clumsy beside her tiny one, but even though her hand was so small, Jake noticed the long tapering fingers. Very gently, he extended his little finger until it lay in the tiny palm. Immediately, the baby’s fingers curled round his finger.
Jake looked up at the doctor in wonder.
‘She’s gripping my finger!’
‘I told you she was a fighter,’ said the nurse.
‘P’raps she knows who I am!’ said Jake.
‘Of course she does.’
Jake couldn’t tear himself away. The baby’s eyes were tight shut and he could see her tiny chest going up and down as she breathed. She continued to grip onto his finger.
‘When will she be able to come home?’ he asked the doctor.
‘When she’s stronger. She needs to grow and develop a bit more before she goes out into the world.’
‘How long?’
The doctor shrugged. ‘I’m guessing a few weeks. But we can’t say for sure.’
‘Can I stay for a bit?’ Jake asked.
‘Stay as long as you like.’
Jake leant forward. ‘Keep fighting, baby,’ he whispered.
He might have imagined it, but he thought he felt the lightest pressure on his finger, soft as a breeze.
She wants to make it. I’m sure she wants to make it.
He leaned even closer. ‘I’ll teach you to play footie,’ he said. ‘Even though you’re a girl.’
Chapter Eleven
When Jake went back to see his mum, she was speaking on the phone to Dad. She gestured for him to come and sit on the edge of her bed and handed him the phone.
‘Dad, where are you?’
‘At the airport. I’m about to board a plane. I’ll be with you in the morning.’
‘Dad. I’ve just seen the baby. She’s tiny! But Mum says she’s a fighter.’
‘Just like her mum, eh?’
Jake nodded silently into the phone, swallowing hard.
‘It’ll be great to see you, Dad,’ he said at last.
‘And you. You’ve done brilliantly Jake, but we must sort out some help for Gran now.’
‘Have you spoken to Irene?’
‘Yes. She’s being a star, and I didn’t realise . . . I’m so sorry, Jake . . . I just didn’t realise how bad it had got. You should have told me.’ His voice began to break and he stopped speaking for a moment. ‘We must get some proper help for Gran. I’ll sort something out the minute I get back.’
‘But what about the new job?’
‘All fine. They were really good about letting me off the last training sessions.’
‘So . . . you’ve got the job, then?’
Dad laughed. ‘Yep. Got the job, signed the contract and I start work for real in two weeks’ time.’
‘So it’s all good?’
‘It’s all good, and I’ll be home tomorrow to take care of everything. You’re not to worry any more.’
Not to worry any more. How sweet those words sounded.
Poor Gran, though. There’ll be doctors and carers coming to the house. Strangers interfering with her. She’ll hate it.
Jake stayed a long time at the hospital; he didn’t want to go home. But in the end the nurses told him that Mum needed to rest and that he could come back tomorrow.
He went to the special baby unit again but the nurse on duty didn’t let him stay long, even when he’d explained who he was, so he took one last glance at the tiny person lying sleeping in the incubator, her veins so blue and her skin so translucent that it seemed she would break if she were moved.
‘She looks so . . . so fragile,’ he said to no one in particular.
The nurse on duty turned round. ‘You’d be amazed how tough they are. Even the tiniest ones.’
She gently ushered him out of the unit. ‘She’ll get stronger every day,’ she said. ‘You’ll see.’
It was only when Jake was on the bus on the way home that he realised that no one had mentioned a name for the baby.
I’ll ask Mum tomorrow.
He yawned, and leant against the bus window. He only woke up again when the bus came to a halt. He staggered off and went to wait for another bus to take him back to his part of town.
He stretched and looked up into the sky. The sun was well down. He glanced at his watch. Five o’clock! He’d been away most of the day.
Poor Irene!
It was nearly six o’clock by the time he reached his street. He paused by the old house but there was no sign of life there. When he got home, he unlocked the front door and walked inside, nervous of what he might find. He heard someone talking in the kitchen so he went there first.
‘Gran?’
Gran was sitting in the old comfy chair in the corner and she seemed to be carrying on a conversation with someone – but there was no one else in the room.
‘Gran? You OK?’
Very slowly, she turned to look at him, but there was no recognition in her eyes.
‘Who were you talking to, Gran?’
She focused on him for a moment. ‘Verity.’ She said it so quietly that he had to ask her to repeat it. She said the name again, more loudly. ‘Verity.’ And there was a flash of anger in her eyes as if she resented being interrupted.
‘But there’s no one. . . Oh, never mind.’ But as he said the words, he knew that Gran could feel Verity’s presence even if she couldn’t see her. He stood very still and let himself relax. It was quiet in the room, with only the hum of the fridge breaking the silence.
I can feel her presence, too. It’s very strong. How weird is that?
Gran continued to mutter, then waited for an answer that only she could hear, before starting to mutter again. She was making no sense. The words were all jumbled together.
Jake went over to her. ‘Gran. Mum’s had the baby!’
She looked at him blankly.
‘She’s had a baby girl. I’ve got a sister!’ Nothing.
Jake sighed. ‘Where’s Irene?’
‘Here. Here I am.’
Irene was coming in from the garden, pulling off her gardening gloves. ‘We’ve been getting on with the gardening,’ she said. Kenny was behind her, grinning and looking over her shoulder towards Jake. Jake smiled at him.
‘Hi, Kenny.’
Irene reached behind her and patted Kenny’s hand.
‘We’re trying to make it all tidy for your dad,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ said Jake. ‘Was Gran OK?’
I hate talking
to Irene about her as if she wasn’t here. As if she didn’t exist.
Irene paused, and put a stray wisp of hair back in place. She looked hot and tired.
‘She was better today,’ she said. ‘She’s been in here chatting to herself most of the time.’
Not to herself. She’s not talking to herself.
***
They ate very late that night. Irene and Kenny stayed for dinner at Jake’s house. Irene had managed to get Gran to drink a little soup and had helped her to bed.
Irene asked Kenny to set the table and he shuffled about, grunting with concentration as Jake handed him mats, knives, forks and spoons. He put them all in the wrong places but somehow it didn’t matter. Jake couldn’t feel irritated by him. Not now. Now that mum had had the baby and that Dad was on his way home. He just smiled and replaced them when Kenny’s back was turned.
Irene had done some cooking for them, too, and Jake realised that he had completely forgotten to do any shopping on his way back.
‘I’m really sorry, I forgot to go to the supermarket. What with the baby and Dad and everything, it just went out of my mind.’
‘Don’t worry, Jake. I’ll go shopping for you tomorrow morning before your dad gets home.’
I haven’t got any money to give her.
He felt in the back pocket of his jeans. Gran’s card was still there and he dragged it out, suddenly remembering the photo of Verity he’d found in Gran’s purse.
How did Gran know her? Who is she?
‘Here,’ he said out loud. ‘This is Gran’s card. And I’ve got the PIN number.’
Reluctantly, Irene took it. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘Yeah.’ Then he added. ‘She can’t remember her PIN now, but I know it. It’s OK. Dad and Mum give her money for shopping.’
After they’d finished their meal, Jake stacked the dishwasher. Irene hovered, twisting the ring on her finger. He’d not noticed the ring before and, again, he wondered about Kenny’s dad. Irene broke into his thoughts. ‘Do you want me to stay the night here, Jake?’
Jake hesitated. He took a deep breath and turned to face her.
‘No. Honest. We’ll be OK. I’ll come and get you if anything happens. You go home and rest. You’ve done so much for us already. It’s been brilliant.’
There. The words were out. And suddenly he felt better about his past meanness to Kenny, about all the rotten things he’d said about Irene – ‘her-next-door’.
Irene stopped twisting the ring on her finger. She smiled at Jake. A proper smile. She knew he’d found it difficult to say that.
Don’t suppose she ever gets much thanks from Kenny.
And this time, Irene didn’t add any maddening moral quip. She said, simply, ‘You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure.’
And Jake laughed – laughed properly.
‘It’s no pleasure dealing with my dotty feisty old Gran, but thanks for saying so!’
Irene laughed, too. ‘No . . . well!’
That is the first time we’ve said something to each other that’s meant anything.
Jake didn’t get much sleep that night. He was too excited. Dad would be here in the morning and he’d sort out everything. And he had a baby sister. Though he found it hard to imagine that tiny scrap in the incubator growing up and running around.
Please let her be OK.
He kept listening out for Gran but there was no sound from her room.
***
Irene arrived early to get Gran up and then shot off in her car to do shopping for them all, leaving Kenny with Jake.
Kenny and Gran seemed to understand each other. She sat in a chair outside and dozed; every now and then Kenny would bring something to her – a snail or a stone or a flower – and put it in her lap. Sometimes she woke up and smiled at him.
Jake’s phone rang. ‘Hi, Dad. Where are you?’
‘Just getting into a cab. I’ll be with you in an hour.’
Only one more hour.
While he had his phone out, Jake checked his messages. Another message from Tom: ‘Tough luck about getting a sister. Sisters are nothing but a pain in the ass.’
Jake grinned. Tom had two sisters.
The last hour dragged. Jake paced up and down. He tried to catch up with some school work but couldn’t concentrate. The words swam before his eyes and he kept seeing the little body of his sister, her chest moving up and down with every breath she took.
And then, while he was idly leafing through one of his exercise books he suddenly felt a sharp pain. and clutched his chest. He couldn’t breathe and he doubled over, desperately fighting to get some air into his lungs. He stretched out his hand to grab his phone but he couldn’t reach it. He tried to cry out but the noise he made was weak – and anyway, there was no one in the house to help him.
He was panicking now. His lungs were bursting and the pain in his chest was worse. It felt as though a red-hot clamp was squeezing his lungs, forcing all the air out of them. He began to lose consciousness; everything was swimming before him, everything was out of focus. He could no longer form any words. He had no breath for words.
I’m dying! Please God, don’t let me die!
And then, as suddenly as it had come, the pain in his chest eased and he was able to gulp some air into his lungs. His head was still swimming, but gradually he felt his heart rate slow down.
He sat up, forcing himself to take deep breaths.
‘It was the baby! You were feeling her pain.’
That voice again, the voice in his head. But he knew it was true. He knew that something was wrong, miles over the other side of town, in the hospital.
Something’s happened to the baby!
Oh God, I must find out.
Who could he phone? The hospital? His mum?
His eyes were blurred and his fingers sweaty as he picked up his phone and scrolled down to Mum’s number. Her phone was switched off. He thought about sending a text – but what could he say?
He phoned the hospital and asked to be put through to the ward. The phone rang for ages. At last it was picked up.
‘Ward 8.’
Jake asked to speak to his mum. There was a slight hesitation.
‘She’s not in her room right now.’
‘Where is she? It’s Jake. It’s her son.’
‘She’s with the baby.’
‘Can I speak to her. Please! I want to speak to Mum.’
‘I’ll tell her you rang.’ The voice on the other end was maddeningly calm.
Waiting was unbearable. Jake paced up and down the passage. He couldn’t think of anything except the baby.
‘She’s a fighter, like her mum,’ Dad had said.
Keep fighting, baby. Please don’t give up on us.
At last his phone rang again and he grabbed it. It was Dad.
‘Jake, I’m going to the hospital first,’ he said. ‘I’ll be home as soon as I can.’
Jake could hear the suppressed panic in his voice.
He’s trying to sound calm for my sake.
‘There’s something wrong with the baby, isn’t there, Dad?’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘I know it! I just know it!’ He was shouting now.
Dad hesitated, and Jake could hear him take a deep breath on the other end of the line.
He’s trying to find the right words. Poor Dad. How many times has he been here before? How many disappointments?
‘She’s. . . ’ Jake could hear him choking up.
Oh, please God, no. He’s going to tell me she’s died.
He held his breath.
Dad cleared his throat. ‘She’s having a little trouble breathing,’ he said. ‘They’ve put her on a ventilator.’
‘She’s still alive, then?’
‘Yes, yes, she’s still alive. It’s just . . . it just means that a machine is doing her breathing for her.’
Jake hardly dared say the words. ‘Will she be OK?’
Dad cleared his throat again. �
��Everything possible’s being done for her.’
He sounds like a hospital spokesman.
‘Jake. Are you still there?’
‘Yeah,’ he whispered.
‘I’ll phone again soon. I’ll phone from the hospital.’
‘OK.’
Jake snapped his phone shut.
Please. Please let her pull through.
‘She will. She will pull through.’
This time the voice wasn’t in his head. It was real, it was familiar and it was coming from behind him.
Jake spun round.
She was standing just inside the front door – wearing her ‘Save the Planet’ T-shirt.
‘Verity!’
His mobile clattered to the floor and Verity moved forward, bent down and picked it up and handed it back to him.
‘She will be OK, Jake. The baby will be OK.’
He began to well up. Angrily he sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his fist. His head was such a muddle.
She’s here again. That means Gran will be happy. And Kenny likes her. But how does she KNOW that the baby will be OK?
‘How do you know?’ he whispered.
But she had already walked past him, squeezing his shoulder on her way out into the garden to see Gran.
Jake stood there.
Why do I believe her?
‘Who ARE you?’ He thought he had yelled the words after her, but no sound came out.
And by the time Irene came back from the supermarket, Verity had gone again.
Chapter Twelve
Jake wasn’t in charge any more.
Dad phoned from the hospital to tell Jake that the baby was breathing on her own again, and then he was home, hardly pausing to hug Jake before he was by Gran’s side.
She had no idea who he was. She frowned and kept saying ‘Sam’ over and over. Jake saw the shock it gave his dad.
Dad looked terrible, his face grey and lined. He was exhausted by the flight and all the worry about the baby and Gran. He asked Jake exactly what had happened, then he spoke to Irene, and then he was on to the doctor.
Suddenly the house was full of people. Medics, a psychiatric team, people with special equipment, all trailing through the house, talking quietly, relentlessly cheerful.
They’re treating her like a child.
Loose Connections Page 11