‘Did you speak to him?’
‘No I hid round the corner so he wouldn’t see me.’
‘What, for a week you’ve been hiding round the corner!’
‘No only that first time, the rest of the week I’ve been staying upstairs avoiding the loo and keeping my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t have to come upstairs.’
‘What if he does, what if he recognises you, what then?’
‘Don’t know. I could deny all knowledge, or just say ‘Hi’ and brazen it out, I really don’t know. What would you do?’
‘Not a clue. You’re still going with this not telling him then?’
‘Too right. My god he’s even more of a twonk than I remember, so even if I tell him and he gives a damm, I really wouldn’t want him hanging around, even at a distance. No definitely not going to tell him, no way.’
‘But should you at least . . .’
‘No I shouldn’t. Don’t even go there.’
‘Okay it’s your call. Must be rough though seeing him every day.’
‘You have no idea. Since seeing him again, and seeing just how much of an arse he is, it’s just made me worry even more what this baby will be like and if it’s going to take after him.’
‘It doesn’t have to, I mean a lot of it will depend on you won’t it? You’ll be the one bringing it up.’
‘Yeah I suppose.’
‘How long is he there for?’
‘Another two weeks at least.’
We both went quiet after that, contemplating all the consequences of him recognising me and having to talk to him. At least I think that’s why Shelley went quiet, but maybe she was just musing over event’s about to take place later that evening.
One of the nurses called my name, and I stood up slowly. The numb bum syndrome so much more prevalent now than it had been a couple of weeks ago at the doctors, to the point where my legs wouldn’t actually move and Shelley had to support me for a couple of minutes until my circulation started circulating again.
We went into the examining room, if that’s what it was called, and were confronted by a barrage of medical equipment and machinery all lined up around the bed come couch table, ready for easy access. Just that was enough to want to make me turn and run. Not that I could run, even when I wasn’t pregnant or getting rounder by the minute I was pretty rubbish at running, and now with my frozen back-side the thought was almost laughable.
I peeled off my jeans, I really was going to have to do some fat clothes shopping soon, and laid on the couch table as ordered. The nurse wasted no time, after checking that I was who I was supposed to be and that she’d got the right file for the right person, she lifted my tee shirt and pulled down my pants and slapped a handful of freezing gel onto my rounded stomach. It wouldn’t have surprised me to find out that they froze the gel on purpose, just for the sadistic hell of it.
Then she held some kind of flat probe over my distended stomach moving it around and studying the monitor. Almost instantly I heard the soft regular thud of my heartbeat and a picture appeared on the screen, if you could call it a picture that is. It was black and white and to call it grainy wouldn’t do it justice. She um’d and aah’d a bit to get the blurry interference fuzz just right and said ‘look, your baby’.
I looked but the picture looked nothing like a baby. ‘Here’, she said pointing with her finger to a white splurge no different from all the other white splurges dotted around the screen. Was I supposed to be able to see something, something even vaguely baby shaped? Because I didn’t. No matter how hard I tried to focus it was all just a really bad fuzzy picture on a TV monitor that needed fixing.
‘Mmm.’ I said trying to sound appreciative. ‘Look Shelley.’
‘Mmm.’ Shelley said, obviously she was having the same trouble I was.
‘Baby’s heartbeat is good and strong.’ The nurse said.
‘That’s the baby’s heartbeat?’ I said surprised.
‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘Who’s did you think it was?’
‘I thought it was mine.’ I said to which she laughed again, looking at me in a despairing way. Can someone please explain why everyone remotely medical thinks everything I say is so amusing, I mean if it took them five, seven, or even ten years of dedicated study to learn everything they know, then how is everyone else non-medical, and without all that studying supposed to automatically know everything they know. If that was the case then you wouldn’t need to go to the doctor for anything would you, you’d just diagnose and treat yourself.
‘Would you like a picture to keep?’ The nurse asked.
‘Yes that would be nice.’ I lied.
‘That’ll be four pound’s twenty.’ She said missing her vocation of working in John Lewis. Then after seeing the surprise on my face at being charged at all said ‘sorry we have to charge for prints of your scan now, cut back’s you know.’
She cleaned off the gel and I climbed off the couch table to retrieve my jeans. By the time I’d got them back on and had sorted out the safety pin holding them up, the button at the waist no longer being functional, she was waiting for the printout of my scan to come off the printer. I paid the four twenty without a murmur, and she slid the scan print into an envelope, which I straight away stashed in the depths of my bag, hoping that later given enough time and maybe the use of a magnifying glass I might be able to see some resemblance somewhere on it to a baby. Then I ran inelegantly and as fast as I could manage to the nearest loo that thankfully was on the same floor, and peed for ten minutes nonstop.
12
5th September – Week 14 + 1 Day
After the scan Shelley and I had gone for a coffee together before both hurrying as fast as possible to our respective workplaces to arrive at around noon so actually it was more like lingering as fast as possible, which wasn’t very fast at all really.
Shelley had noticed how tight my clothes were getting and agreed to come with me on Saturday to choose a few things that would be more comfortable. So Saturday morning I met her in town at the same coffee place, where we picked up on our conversation as if we hadn’t had a couple of days break in between.
Of course the first thing I’d wanted to know was what had happened on the expensive dinner date. Had he proposed? Had she said yes? She was smiling so I’d already guessed that the answer to both was in the affirmative.
‘Ok give me all the details, every word. Don’t hold back.’ I told her and she didn’t.
I won’t bore you with all the he said and she said stuff, but the outcome was that he’d asked if she’d like to move in together, so not a proposal as such, well not a marriage one, but still a proposal of sorts. And Shelley was like a kid in a sweet shop with a tenner in their hand to spend, obviously quite happy about the idea, and told me she’d said yes straight away. I thought she should have deliberated for a day or two, or at least fake deliberated just to keep him on his toes and appreciate what he was getting when he eventually got it, but evidently Shelley wasn’t able to stop herself from practically shouting her yes almost before he’d finished asking. I’m sure I would have handled it better, at least I think I would, I guess it would depend a lot on who was doing the asking.
They’d spent the rest of the evening debating whether she would move into his place or he should move into hers and eventually, despite an hour or two’s distraction mid debate from the main topic if you know what I mean, decided on finding a brand new place together. So someone else moving, I thought, I really needed to get on that and find a new bigger place for myself.
Then like a light bulb being switched on it suddenly occurred to me that here I was looking, well supposed to be looking, for a bigger place and here was someone, no make that three someone’s if you counted Nick and Gill at work, planning to move out of their old places. Dah! It was so obvious it was almost shouting at me.
I filled Shelley in on my epiphany but she immediately discounted her place as not worth the effort as it wasn’t much bigger than my current place. ‘
Nick’s might do though’ she said. She’d ask him if I could go and have a look at it and see what I thought, and I resolved to ask Gill on Monday morning what was happening to her old flat. It was the first time in a long time that I’d felt optimistic about anything.
Of course that euphoria was short lived as soon as we started looking at fat clothes for me. We started with proper maternity clothes in a couple of the shops I usually favoured, not that I’d ever looked at the maternity ranges before, except once by accident when I nearly bought a tee shirt that was meant for someone pregnant and only just realised in the nick of time before I’d actually paid for the thing, but we soon realised not only was the bona fide maternity stuff God awful but it was really, really expensive. We switched tack and headed for the more down market chain stores where at least the prices were a bit more realistic. The styles still weren’t too thrilling, but I suppose given the shape they were meant to fit they wouldn’t be would they, but it was the colours and the patterns that really had me retching. Do they, and by they I mean the designers and the buyers really think that if you’re pregnant you automatically go colour blind or lose any fashion sense you might have had? I mean what’s with all the dread patterns.
I found a pair of jeans that fitted, don’t even ask what size they were I’m too embarrassed to even admit to myself how big they had to be before they felt comfortable, and I knew even when I chose them that they’d only be a temporary stop-gap before I’d need the next size or even the one after that at some point, but I refused point blank to wear those dread maternity jeans with the weird knitted bit at the front that expands as you expand. I found a couple of loose, well looser than the ones I already had at home tee shirts, and blew the budget on three over-shirts for work, at least I think that’s what they’re called they just looked like big shirts to me, the sort that leans toward a hippy type style, I hoped that was the case anyway and that they didn’t just look like your regular fat clothes. And last but not least a large pair of plain black trousers that, for the time being anyway, were a bit on the loose side, and that would be perfect for work and go quite well with the shirts.
Fairly exhausted by our foray into the fat side of life we surrendered our will-to-live in the queue at our local pizza place, which was massive it being Saturday lunch time, bribing ourselves with the thought of deep pan, extra cheese, filled crust, calorific pizza to keep ourselves going. After what felt like a year we finally got a table and were waiting for the pizza to be bought to us.
‘So,’ Shelley said. ‘Guess this means you’re coming out of the pregers closet.’
‘The what?’
‘The pregers closet, you’re going to start telling people you’re pregnant.’
‘Oh.’
‘Well the fat clothes are going to be a bit of a giveaway aren’t they? Better to be up front I think than have everybody talking behind your back.’
‘Yeah I guess. I wasn’t really planning on saying anything for at least another month, but maybe you’re right, maybe I should tell them at work. Although I’d feel a lot happier not saying anything until after the builders have gone and the twonk wasn’t there every day.’
‘Good point, but he’s busy . . building . . or painting, or whatever, isn’t he? And you said yourself he’s going to be finished in a couple of weeks. I think you should tell them. I mean as soon as you turn up at work in this lot,’ and she glanced at the small mountain of carrier bags we had stashed under the table, ‘the jigs going to be up and everyone’s going to guess anyway.’
‘I suppose. You’re probably right. I’m really not looking forward to it though.’
‘And I’ll tell the girls, or did you want to tell everyone yourself?’
‘Oh God, what do you think everyone will say?’
‘It’ll be fine don’t worry. Either they’ll commiserate or they’ll be pleased for you, maybe even be a bit jealous. But either way they’ll be there for you, you know help if they can and give you a bit of support.’
‘Jealous, you think they might be jealous?’
‘Yeah lots of girls would love to have a baby.’
‘Really? Would you?’
‘Well sort of, I mean I wouldn’t want one right now, this minute, but yeah I’d like to have children.’
‘With Nick I suppose?’
‘Yeah with Nick.’ Shelley said all dreamy.
So here I am at work Monday morning bright and early, in my new black trousers and one of the oversize shirts. The first person I see is Shirley, and the first thing she says is ‘bout time’.
‘Time?’
‘Bout time you stopped trying to squeeze yourself into stuff that don’t fit anymore. You finally going to tell them are you that you’re having a baby?’
‘How did you . . .?
‘Wasn’t hard. Figured it out weeks ago.’ Shirley said looking smug.
‘Do you suppose everyone knows?’
‘Maybe. Probably not though, they’re a bit dense this lot, bit slow on the uptake.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘Well don’t matter now does it, not if you’re telling them official like today anyway. How you going to manage, is the Dad going to help?’
‘No, there’s no Dad.’
‘Yeah figured. So are you going to be able to cope on your own?’
‘Oh Shirley I have no idea. I’ve got to look for a new place to live, I’ve got to find some sort of baby minding service, and I’ll probably have to find a new job, I mean I don’t see how I can carry on here with . . . when . . well afterwards.’
‘What about if you was to give up work, you know go on the benefits?’
‘Mm I might have to, but you don’t get much do you? And I’m not sure I want to be at home all the time, I’d probably end up going mad and getting locked up for child abuse or something.’
‘Well why don’t you advertise yourself and do all this accounts stuff at home for other people, you know like self employed people. My Cheryl’s blokes a sparky, works for himself, and he’s always moaning about the amount of paperwork he has to do. Or maybe this lot will let you work from home for a bit.’
‘Maybe, I’ll look into it. Thanks Shirley.’
‘No bother. Look if you ever need to talk, or anything . . I mean I’m always here, every morning, and I’ve had five of me own, and they’ve all got kids of their own now as well so . . just saying it can be hard trying to deal with all this stuff on your own, so if you ever . . you could come back to mine for a cuppa if you don’t want to talk here.’
‘Thanks Shirley, you’re a good friend.’
‘Okay, I really gotta get on now. But I mean it, just let me know ok. Any time.’
Shirley really was a nice person I thought, as I watched her battling with the vacuum as she negotiated all the builders stuff they’d left lying about and the shambles our office had become.
I made myself a cup of tea and waited for the first arrivals. I planned on telling Graham first as he’s my manager, and well he probably should be the first to know. I just hoped he wasn’t going to have one of his late mornings that he sometimes has, because his wife’s a sort of permanent semi-invalid and needs help in the mornings before he comes to work. I wonder if they ever had children, he never talks about it, and I never thought to ask him. Right this minute I hoped he had, it might make him a bit more understanding.
Gill arrived and gushed as was her wont lately. I fretted that she’d overreact to seeing me in my fat clothes but I needn’t have worried. She was more concerned that her and the new husband had signed contracts for their new house and she was going to hand in her notice this morning, than she was about anything going on with me.
I gushed back, oozing fake enthusiasm, bearing in mind that as soon as she stopped talking for long enough I’d ask her what was happening to her old flat. I’d only been there once, the evening of the fated hen night, where we’d all met for a drink pre going out on the razz, and from what I saw and remembered, it would be pe
rfect. Two bedrooms, bigger living room, bigger kitchen, perfect. Course I didn’t know how much rent she was paying, but she lived there on her own for quite a while before she got married so fingers crossed it wouldn’t be too expensive.
‘So what’s happening to your old flat?’ I said as casually as I could manage. ‘Have you told the landlord you’re moving?’
‘We’re telling them tonight, after work, the agents that is. We wanted to wait until we had a proper moving date.’ She said looking at me questioningly.
‘It’s just that I’m looking for somewhere else, you know somewhere a bit bigger, better.’ I said trying to butter her up. ‘And I was just wondering if your place was . .’
‘Well I suppose they will want to let it again as soon as possible, but they’ll probably put the rent up. That’s what usually happens isn’t it when someone moves out, and I’ve been there for three years now so I’m guessing they’ll grab the chance to get a bit more money out of someone.’
‘Probably, I don’t suppose you’d . . I mean do you think maybe you could . . um.’
‘Could?’
‘Well if you sub-let it to me, I mean they need never know, or you could tell them I was a relative or something, and maybe they wouldn’t put the rent up or not so much anyway. I mean how much are you paying now?’
Gill considered and I guessed she was asking herself if she wanted to do this favour for someone she didn’t really care about. I wished then that I’d made more of an effort when she was droning on about the joys of living in the country. ‘See the thing is I’m having a baby and I really desperately need a bigger place.’ I wheedled.
The look of surprise on her face was something to behold and a bit of me was pleased that she hadn’t already guessed, but another bit of me was thinking I give it about half an hour tops, before everyone in the building knows.
‘Judy you’re having a baby? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.’ She said with the greedy eager look of all gossips, relishing a juicy titbit like this and planning to distribute it to as wide an audience as possible, as soon as possible, like the minute we stopped talking.
39 Weeks Page 8