39 Weeks

by Terri Douglas

  I had a mental flash forward of how it might be after the baby arrives, just me, Rob, and Ella, I’d almost definitely decided on the name of Ella, going for walks in the park. I sighed at the mental image I was conjuring up, and Rob asked me what was up but of course I couldn’t tell him, then five minutes later he sighed and I wondered if he was having similar mental images, but in his case it was more likely to be some bloke related thing, I mean guy’s don’t actually go gooey over walks in the park do they.

  On Sunday, yesterday, we went back to our place The Willow Tree, but in the evening this time. Alright I know I couldn’t justifiably call it our place I mean we’d only been there once, and Rob had been there loads of times without me so the reality was it was hardly our place exactly, but hey if I was going to have it I wanted it all, and that included having somewhere I could call our place.

  I was still all loved up and daydreaming this morning when I got to work, and started telling Shirley all about my brilliant weekend, when she hit me with her bombshell.

  ‘Them Steadman’s have give me my notice.’ She said verging on tears.

  ‘They’ve what!’ I said my voice rising a decibel or two in shock.

  ‘It wasn’t Norman it was that David that told me, he said as I was too old to do a proper job and they wanted to get the cleaning contracted or some such, I didn’t get that bit, but anyway it means I’m going to have to leave. Christmas he said. I could carry on till Christmas then I had to go. Come in early special this morning he did, so he could tell me.’

  ‘I can’t believe it. What did you say?’

  ‘Well nothing I could say was there.’

  ‘No I suppose. What will you do?’

  ‘Have to leave won’t I? Though God knows I’m not looking forward to having to be stuck indoors with him at home. My Malcolm’s been a proper sour puss he has this last year since he gave up work his-self, not that he wasn’t a bit that way anyway even before he retired, and since well . . there’s been no living with him, and the last thing I want is to have to spend any more time with him than I am at the moment. But got no choice have I.’

  ‘But surely if they contract out to a cleaning company it’s going to cost them a lot more than it does to keep you on?’ I said more to myself really, just thinking out loud, I mean Shirley probably wouldn’t have a clue about something like that.

  ‘I dunno what it’s going to cost, but I spose you’re right. I reckon it was them two days I had off with my knee that did it, and you all had to fend for yourselves emptying your bins and that.’

  ‘But that was only for two days, and you couldn’t help being poorly.’

  ‘Yeah but I spose a chap in them Steadman brothers position don’t want to be dusting his own desk and emptying his own bin of a night. Bit beneath him I dare say.’

  ‘I doubt if David Steadman had to empty his own bin or dust his own desk, I’m sure Clare would have done it for him. Anyway you’ve been here for years and you hardly ever have time off. It just doesn’t seem right. I’m going to ask Ted if they can actually do that, he’s the personnel manager he should know if anyone does.’

  ‘Now don’t you go worrying about me, you got your own stuff to be thinking about with a baby on the way. It’s nice of you Judy and I appreciate it, but well I spose I had to go sometime didn’t I? I just didn’t think it’d be like this, and this soon, and specially now they’ve got the place all done up, it’s been a real treat cleaning since they finished all that building work and everything.’

  Poor old Shirley, she was almost in tears, and I was pretty choked up myself, I couldn’t even begin to imagine Fishers without Shirley here every morning. It was true of course that she wasn’t up to the job, everyone knew that, but some things are more important than whether you could do your job or not, or at least they should be. What they should have done was get someone in to help her.

  As soon as Ted arrived I cornered him in his office and asked him what was going on. Turned out Ted was as devastated as I was, well almost. Apparently he’d had no say in it and David Steadman was determined to get a contract cleaning company in to do the job, but as yet he hadn’t decided which one and was getting tenders.

  I mulled over Shirley’s bad news on and off all morning, in-between checking if we were going to meet this month’s cash targets, and badgering Phil in marketing for the capex form he was supposed to be filling in for the new colour printer he wanted. Then at lunch time while I was berating managers in general and David Steadman in particular, with Doreen, I had a bit of an epiphany. On the one hand the Steadman’s hadn’t decided on who the cleaning contractors were going to be, and on the other hand there was Shirley with years of experience and now jobless, and at least two of her daughters that I knew for a fact because Shirley had told me, were looking for work. So why didn’t Shirley and co put in a tender for the cleaning, I bet they could undercut anyone else, already having the inside track on what the job entailed.

  She’d already gone home of course, so while Martin was in a meeting with Grahame in the next office I phoned her with my idea. Not surprisingly she said she couldn’t do anything like that, wouldn’t know where to begin, and I said it would be easy. She um’d and aah’d for a while, but I said ‘what have you got to lose? Your daughters can do the actual cleaning, and there’d be cover if one was off sick or on holiday, it’d be perfect’. I offered to help with the paperwork side of things and that changed her mind. Seems it was the paperwork that was scaring her the most. I told her to think about it this afternoon, and how much she thought it would cost to pay two cleaners, her daughters, for two or three hours a day plus all the cleaning materials, and that I’d come and see her straight after work.

  I didn’t get home until half nine but with Shirley’s input I’d got a hand written rough copy of a tender, that just needed typing up and handing in to David Steadman in the morning. Well actually I planned to brown envelope it and leave it in his pigeon hole, I figured if he was getting tenders anyway I didn’t need to hand it over personally, and anyway I thought it best if they didn’t know of my involvement at this stage, in fact they didn’t even need to know Shirley was involved, most people didn’t know her surname and I guessed David Steadman probably didn’t either so the name Mrs Ferrier would mean nothing to him. I couldn’t see how it could fail.

  30

  2nd December – Week 26 + 5 Days

  This morning as I was getting ready for work I felt unquestionable movement from Ella. There was no possibility of dismissing it as my imagination this time, and she must have been having a right old wriggle because it went on for about twenty minutes or so, it wasn’t continuous movement more of a stop and start kind of thing, and whether I stood still or carried on getting dressed I could still feel a small foot or hand pressing on me, course I didn’t know for sure exactly which bit of her it was I mean for all I knew or could tell it was her elbow or a knee. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and I was spell bound. Then just as I was getting used to the idea it stopped completely and she wouldn’t be coaxed into starting up again. I tried talking to her and rubbing my tummy, and even poking it gently, but she was having none of it.

  I also had another symptom of my pregnant state this morning. My boobs were leaking. Only a small amount but there was definite leakage going on. I went straight into panic mode thinking my time had come and the baby was arriving despite the fact that she wasn’t due for at least another three months. I mean all that movement, and now my breasts were producing milk, what else could it be?

  I consulted the baby bibles, and regardless of the ever ticking clock telling me I should be leaving for work instead I sat down at the table, bibles spread out before me, and scanned frantically for clues. Turned out I wasn’t going into the throes of labour just yet, and it wasn’t milk I was producing it was colostrum and was perfectly normal, actually a bit late if anything, but normal. I breathed an internal sigh of relief, and then cursed a bit because I really didn’t want to be
leaking colostrum all over the place, especially in public, and that meant I’d have to stuff my bra to avoid that happening. Like my boobs weren’t getting big enough, or uncomfortable enough, now I’d be padding them out making them look even bigger.

  Panic over, I patted my stomach and cooed a bit to Ella as I folded some toilet roll to line the inside of each bra cup. I changed my top and checked myself out in the mirror. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it was going to be I mean at least it was winter so I could cover up with a cardi or a jumper, if it had been mid-summer I’d be stuck in a tee shirt and it’d be too hot to cover up. Mm time to get a couple of bigger bra’s. I’d been putting it off for a few weeks, reluctant to move into a bigger bra size even though my current one’s were strangling me and straining their little hearts out, because as everyone knows the bigger the bra the more old lady and gormless it looks, but I wasn’t going to be able to put it off any longer.

  I was late for work anyway by this time, but everyone was getting used to me being off or late for one pregnant reason or another, so I stopped off in town on my way, and went straight to Marks. I wasn’t sure if I just needed bigger cups or bigger all over so I picked up a couple of each option, and one called optimistically a minimiser bra, and one I just liked the look of it was so pretty crossing my fingers it’d be big enough, and joined the queue for the changing rooms.

  It’s the unwritten law in Marks & Sparks that no matter when you go there’s always a queue for the changing room, or maybe it is written down somewhere you know as part of their company policy or something, ‘there shall always be at least two people waiting at any time or on any day to try something on, and those people already in a changing room shall take as long as they possibly can’. Anyway today all company policy’s where being fulfilled to the letter, so I waited.

  When I finally got to the front of the queue and it was my turn I was only allowed to take four of the bra’s in with me, and would have to shout for the other two when I was ready and swap them for two I’d already tried on. I really hate when you have to do that, but needs must. I opted for the minimiser, the pretty one, and one each of the bigger cup size and the bigger all over.

  The minimiser made me look absolutely massive, we’re talking Jordan proportions here, and the manufacturers should probably be sued for trade descriptions or something, so that was out. The pretty one only looked pretty on the hanger, on my body it was a complete travesty and I mourned the good old days when I could have worn pretty underwear like that, so that one was out too. The bigger cup size was no good either, even on the last hook it was tight and I got that awful bulge thing going on, you know when your bra’s so tight it cuts into you and your back bulges underneath and over the top of it. So now I was down to the sensible looking bigger all over one. That one I’m extremely sorry to say fitted just fine, but at least they had it in two or three different colours so I suppose it could have been worse.

  I didn’t bother trying on the other two the changing room lady was keeping for me, I was depressed enough. All this boob activity had activated the colostrum leaking again and my toilet roll padding had gone sadly awry over one boob, and disappeared altogether over the other one God only knows where. And I didn’t have any tissues or anything with me so I was going to have to visit a loo before long and re-stock, or re-stuff to be more accurate.

  I went back to the display to look for another sensible bigger all over bra but in a different colour, I’d already got a white one that I’d tried on, and searched through the attractive lilac ones, course they didn’t have my new size in lilac, so I searched the washed out looking pink ones even though I wasn’t mad about that colour, and found one. Then looked around for a black one, but they didn’t do that style in black. Typical. They had some that were sort of similar in black, and in my new size so I took a chance it would fit and went straight to the till, I really couldn’t face that changing room again and was all too aware that my leaking boobs, well one of them, was dangerously close to seeping right through my bra and showing the world I was leaking, so I couldn’t hang about anyway. After more queuing I paid and hot-footed it to the nearest loo to renew my bra stuffing.

  Felling a bit more relaxed now I was leak proof again, I went back to the car and continued my journey to work, silently castigating myself for not picking up some new pants while I was in Marks as mine were getting a bit uncomfortable and could have done with a bit of up-sizing along with the bra’s, but that would have to wait for my next trip to town, at least I wouldn’t have to try them on and go through all that palaver again.

  I was eager to get to work, I’d heard from Clare that David Steadman was probably going to pick which cleaning contract he was going to go with today. Clare had been pretty miffed at Shirley’s going, just as I and everyone else had been when they found out, so I told her about the tender Shirley and I had cobbled together. Course I swore her to secrecy and had every confidence she would keep my secret, at least until after we’d found out if we’d got the cleaning contract or not.

  As soon as I arrived I made my excuses for being late, not the real one of course I don’t think Martin or Grahame would have been too understanding about needing time off for a trip to Marks, but what do either of them know about a woman’s needs in a time of crisis, so I said I’d been sick which they accepted straight away without question. Then as soon as I could I e-mailed Clare, who was only downstairs I know, but it’s not like we could talk properly with either of the Steadman’s possibly ear wigging every word. But David hadn’t decided yet she said, or wrote, he was going through all the tenders one more time before giving the winner a call to confirm, or more accurately telling Clare to give them a call to confirm, but she should know by lunch time.

  It was a nail biting couple of hours, but at half one she came upstairs to let me in on the good news that Shirley’s tender had won, she’d got the contract for a year and then they’d review. I asked Clare to keep it quiet for a bit longer, at least until all the contracts and things had been signed which was probably going to be next Monday, Tuesday at the latest, and she agreed she would. I was so excited for Shirley I phoned her straight away and said I’d be round later to congratulate her and talk to her about setting up the paperwork side of things.

  So it was another late night for me but I didn’t mind, I didn’t mind at all. Shirley had phoned her Vicky, the mother of the not pregnant after all Scarlet, and Julie, Shirley’s youngest although she was thirty five so not exactly an infant, who had been the two daughters looking for a job and were now going to be doing the actual cleaning under Shirley’s supervision, and they had come round to help celebrate, and plan in earnest strategies like timetables and cleaning products they’d need. Luckily for them they could continue to use the ancient Hoover, owned by Fishers, at least until it gave up altogether by which time hopefully they’d have earned enough to be able to buy a new one.

  Vicky and Julie were like mini Shirley’s, same down to earth outgoing personality, and pretty much the same looks, although a younger version naturally, and they were pleased as punch to get a job at all, never mind working for themselves, at least until Shirley reminded them that they’d be working for her and that it was her cleaning business, and that quietened them down a bit, evidently she still ruled the roost, but they were pleased for their mum nonetheless.

  Shirley’s Malcolm put in a brief appearance in the kitchen to see what all the noise was about, and then promptly went back to the living room to watch Britain’s Got Talent that evidently, so Shirley explained, he never misses. In fact I think it was a repeat of Britain’s Got Talent he was watching so it wasn’t even a current airing. What is it with older men and these shows, there was Martin and his beloved X Factor and Dad quite liked the American version of it, and now Shirley’s husband and Britain’s Got Talent, I really can’t see the attraction, but each to their own I suppose.

  I got a call from Rob asking if I was alright as I hadn’t been home, so I explained and he added his
congrats which I passed on to Shirley, and I said I wasn’t sure how late I’d be so I’d see him tomorrow. Shirley asked if Rob and I were serious about each other, and I said I didn’t know it was too early yet. But I did know, I was serious. Question was, was he?

  31

  14th December – Week 28 + 3 Days

  Everything was jogging along nicely, things between Rob and I were going great, the question of sex still hadn’t been resolved, not that the subject had come up as a question, well only in my head, and I was getting bigger by the day, or even by the hour, so I wasn’t even sure if sex was a possibility anymore for me anyway, but the kissing had intensified a level or two and that was pretty wonderful.

  Shirley had signed the cleaning contract and was all set to start her business on the second of January straight after the Christmas break. She was so excited about having her own little cleaning empire and not having to give up work, and of course the bonus was that she wouldn’t actually have to do much of the cleaning herself, two of her daughters would be doing the grafting. She’d planned that during the first month they’d give the old place the thorough spring clean it had been crying out for, that’d make it easier to keep on top of, and of course create a good impression with the Steadman’s.

  The news had gotten round that Shirley had been given the push but that it was also Shirley that had secured the cleaning contract, and most people thought it was a decided ‘one in the eye’ for the Steadman’s and congratulated her when they saw her. And the bonus for me was not only did I get the satisfaction of knowing Shirley hadn’t lost her job, but that I would be the Shirley and Co’s accountant and receive a small remuneration. I don’t know what David Steadman thought about it when he found out because I never saw him, and he’d hardly be likely to confide in me anyway even if I had, but Norman did ask me one morning if I knew anything about it. Course I came up with my usual intelligent response of ‘um . . ‘ to which he nodded sagely suggesting he knew it was me all along, but he was smiling so I guess he wasn’t annoyed.