The Trouble With Words: a heart-warming romantic comedy

by Suzie Tullett

  She thought back to when they first married. At the time, she might not have agreed with Tom on the baby front, but that hadn’t stopped them jumping into bed whenever they got the chance. Even now, she could hear the laughter in her husband’s voice as he joked about there being a knack to this pregnancy malarkey. Trying to keep a straight face, he often suggested they could do with the practice for when Annabel did feel ready to take the plunge. As if either of them needed the excuse. The two of them never could get enough of each other.

  ‘It wasn’t that I didn’t want children,’ she carried on. ‘I just thought we needed to be a bit more secure first. I mean, we had the mortgage on this place.’

  Annabel looked around the room, recalling how happy they were at buying their first home together. In his excitement, Tom didn’t just carry her over the threshold. He carried her over each and every doorway in the house, both downstairs and up, only listening to her pleas to be put down once they had gotten to the bedroom. What she’d give to be able to turn back the clock.

  ‘Plus, we were trying to set up the business,’ she continued. ‘I kept insisting we had time on our side.’ She drank another mouthful of wine. ‘How wrong can a girl be, eh?’

  ‘You weren’t to know. No one was.’

  ‘That doesn’t stop me wishing I’d listened to him though, does it?’

  ‘But why now?’ asked Katy. ‘Bringing up a family is difficult enough without doing it on your own.’

  Annabel scoffed. ‘And you’d know this how?’ Katy had to be the most child averse individual she knew. ‘Anyway, there are loads of single parents out there doing a fantastic job.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Katy. ‘But how many of them started out that way? How many are actually doing it through choice?’

  Annabel fell silent. She twisted her wine glass backwards and forwards between the palms of her hands, she couldn’t deny that her friend had a point. Everyone knew someone who’d literally been left holding the baby. Either because, like hers, their husband had died, or he’d decided to be selfish and bugger off with the mistress. Women had left men to raise children on their own too. However, as much as Annabel felt for the difficulties these people faced, she couldn’t let their experiences stop her from becoming a mother.

  ‘I’ve been having this same dream for months now,’ she suddenly began. ‘Tom and I are at the park and we’re pushing this little child on the swings. I can’t see the child’s face, or tell you if it’s a boy or a girl. Everything’s sort of hazy. I just know it’s ours, mine and Tom’s.’ She felt herself automatically brighten as the dreamy images played out in her mind. ‘It’s such a beautiful day, I can feel the sun on my skin and the three of us are laughing and enjoying ourselves. And the child just wants to be pushed higher and higher.’ She turned to Katy. ‘When I’m in that dream it’s just so real. You know?’

  Her friend’s face said it all. Of course she didn’t. Having never been in a relationship that lasted more than a few months, let alone married and widowed, how could she?

  ‘Then I wake up and I realise it isn’t real at all, which hurts to the point that I just want to go back to sleep so I can re-live it over and over again. Stupid, eh? You’d think after all this time.’

  Katy reached out with a comforting hand, but Annabel didn’t want sympathy, she wanted understanding.

  ‘So, you see, even though I know dreams like this don’t come true, that I’ll never have Tom’s baby, at least by doing what I’m doing there’s a chance a part of it might happen.’ She stared at the photo of her husband sitting pride of place on the mantelpiece. ‘He always said I’d make a great mum and I think this dream is meant to tell me I still can be.’

  Another look at Katy and she could see she was convincing no one. Maybe it was time to give up trying to explain.

  ‘You just don’t like children,’ said Annabel.

  ‘I do,’ said her friend. ‘It’s the responsibility that comes with them that I don’t want. Honestly, Annabel, why would you put yourself through this? What if it’s too big a step?’

  Annabel understood the concern. When Tom died, she’d been barely able to function, and for someone who didn’t see the point in carrying on anymore, it had been a long and hard road back. At one point, she’d been barely able to look after herself. There was no way she could have considered caring for someone else, let alone a baby, and having seen her at her worst, she supposed it no wonder her nearest and dearest were worried. Maybe to them she was still fragile? In their shoes, she’d probably feel the same. But that was all in the past and Annabel felt ready to embrace the future, just not in the way everyone seemed to expect.

  ‘The doctor looked at me like that when I tried to talk to him about having a baby too,’ she said.

  ‘Really?’ replied Katy. ‘And that surprised you?’

  Annabel recalled him trying to let her down gently. Lots of kind, amiable words were used, but the message was still the same—a big fat ‘no-chance’.

  ‘He said that, for all anyone knows, I’m perfectly able to conceive without medical intervention and that NHS treatment is for those who can’t. He was very nice about it, of course. Although he did add that now might not be the right time to be making these kinds of decisions. He thinks I’m still grieving.’

  ‘And are you?’

  Annabel let out a burst of mock laughter. ‘Yes, of course I am. A bit of me always will be. Tom was my soul mate, I think about him every day. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t raise a child.’

  ‘Of course it doesn’t,’ said Katy.

  At least they agreed on something.

  ‘Surely there are other ways though?’ she added. ‘Other avenues you could try first?’

  ‘I keep telling you there are,’ Annabel replied. ‘That’s why I went to see the doctor to begin with. There’s IUI, GIFT, IVF … but without the NHS and at thousands of pounds, where do you suggest I get that kind of money? Even if I donate a few eggs for some sort of discount I still couldn’t afford the reduced rates; not with what these private clinics charge. And no one can guarantee any of them would work first time around anyway, so what then?’

  ‘What about a sperm bank?’

  Bless her, Annabel knew Katy was only trying to help, but she had done her research. On the other hand, she’d also done her sums and like most things in life, getting pregnant for a woman in her position came down to cold, hard cash.

  ‘Katy, I just can’t afford it. You’ve got to buy the stuff and get it shipped in these special containers and it still isn’t cheap. Especially if one month turns into the next and then the next. It all adds up. And what with prams and cots and everything else I’d have to buy for the baby once I am pregnant, I’d rather keep my savings for then. Believe me, this is my best option.’

  ‘Just not the safest.’

  Of course, she was right, but having thought of that too, her friend didn’t really have to point out the obvious. ‘If you’re talking about STDs, then I’ve got it covered,’ she said. ‘I’ll just make sure any potential father gets tested before I even think about doing the deed.’

  Her friend laughed. ‘You really think some random bloke is going to go for that?’

  In this day and age, Annabel wished she could say yes, a man would want to make sure he was clean. However, the realist in her knew it was a longshot. But as far as Annabel was concerned everything about this whole thing was a challenge. ‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘Time will tell, I suppose.’

  Katy shook her head, clearly maintaining the view that Annabel was making a huge mistake and with the conversation going nowhere, it appeared they’d reached a stalemate.

  Disappointed, Annabel couldn’t tell if it was her decision to get pregnant that Katy disagreed with, or just the way she planned on going about it. But, whatever the case, she knew it would take a lot more than her friend’s opinion to make her change her mind.

  Annabel finished off her drink and rose to her feet. ‘Ready?’ she asked.

/>   She watched Katy reluctantly reach for her handbag.

  ‘No, not really,’ she said. ‘But, seeing as you’re going to do this, with or without my blessing, it’s not like I really have a choice, is it?’

  3

  Dan had no sooner opened the front door when some god awful smell attacked his nostrils. ‘Bloody hell!’ he said, unable to help but grimace. ‘What is that?’

  On second thought, he wasn’t going to ask. His mum had undoubtedly been trawling the Internet for more weird, if not wonderful, dinners to cook up. Re-creating the culinary delights of her travels was her latest madcap endeavour and experience had taught him that whatever made up tonight’s menu, he’d be better off not knowing. ‘Just as long as she isn’t having another go at the sea cucumber’ he said. Dan recalled her last speciality dish with a shudder. He knew that an endangered species hadn’t really been dumped on his plate. But, thanks to his mother’s cooking skills, or rather the lack of them, the resemblance to one had been uncanny. There was no way that he could ever face that again.

  ‘It’s only me,’ he called out.

  Dan dropped his rucksack on the stairs; he heard his mother’s voice, before realising she was too busy on the phone to respond. Chatting to her partner in crime, as usual, he thought. He wondered if he’d ever get the chance to meet his mother’s accomplice.

  ‘Don’t you worry,’ he heard his mum saying. ‘With a bit of imagination I’m sure between us we can come up with something. It’s probably just another flash in the pan, you’ll see.’

  He rolled his eyes; those two were always plotting something. Being old school friends, he could only imagine the trouble they’d brought to the Head Teacher’s door. He thought it was a shame that, after college, Missy had moved away and they’d somehow lost touch. Still, having met up with each other again, they seemed to be more than making up for lost time. The pair of them had been in cahoots ever since. Talk about a second childhood.

  ‘Anyway, I must dash,’ his mum finally finished. ‘Bye, Sweetie, bye.’

  Dan slipped off his jacket and hung it on the bottom of the bannister before making his way into the kitchen. Expecting to find his mum as her usual flamboyant self, the way she’d sounded only moments before, he instead walked in to find her sitting at the table, now staring into space. It was as if she was lost in her own thoughts. He’d noticed her drifting off a lot lately, and wondered if he should be concerned. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Sorry?’ she said.

  He indicated to the phone and she immediately perked up.

  ‘Oh, that was Missy. It would seem our young Maeve has only gone and got herself a Boyfriend.’

  Dan smiled as he headed for the kettle. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. Although you don’t have to look so pleased about it.’

  ‘I do if it means you’ll finally shut up about her,’ said Dan. He filled the kettle with water and clicked the power on. ‘Although to be fair, she’s probably saying the exact same thing to her mother about me.’

  He turned his attention to the cups and tea caddy; yet again he wished they could just use teabags like normal people. Normal, he thought, in this house? He supposed a guy could only dream.

  His mum let out a wistful sigh which caused Dan to pause, his ears pricked ready for the inevitable.

  ‘But the two of you would make such a lovely couple,’ she said, right on cue.

  Again, Dan smiled. ‘So you’ve mentioned,’ he said. ‘Numerous times.’

  He watched her get up from the table, pick up a wooden spoon, and begin stirring whatever concoction boiled on the stove. His stomach turned at the sight.

  ‘I thought you were out tonight, anyway?’ he said. ‘At your dance class?’

  ‘I’m not in the mood,’ his mum replied. ‘I’d much prefer to spend time with you. You’re always so busy these days. We never seem to chat anymore.’

  Dan couldn’t deny it. When it came to needing extra space, more and more people seemed to be extending, rather than moving to larger properties these days. Which was great news for those like himself, who worked in construction; he’d been inundated with work lately and when he wasn’t on site, he was out giving quotes.

  ‘We’re chatting now aren’t we?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, but not like we used to.’

  Maybe it was his imagination, but she seemed to disappear into her own head again for a moment, before shaking herself free.

  ‘And anyway,’ she said. ‘Missy and I could do with your help in sorting out this Maeve business.’

  Dan despaired. Did this woman ever give up?

  ‘Mum,’ he said. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? I’m really not interested.’

  ‘But how do you know when you’ve never even met her?’

  He’d have been better off talking to the wall.

  ‘Look,’ she carried on. ‘I know you think that what you do, and who you do it with, is none of my business, I just worry about you.’

  Dan scoffed. ‘You want grandchildren, you mean.’

  ‘What woman my age doesn’t?’ she replied. ‘But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, who else is going to look after you when I’m gone? How will you manage on your own?’

  Dan let out a laugh. As far as he was concerned, the chance to even try and look after himself would be cause for celebration.

  His train of thought all at once made him feel guilty. He didn’t wish any harm on his mother, let alone want her gone. He, of all people, knew it was simply her way. She could just be a bit full on at times. Although much to his annoyance, her interest in his love life did seem to be getting worse. Thinking about it, he was sure none of his mates had to put up with this from their mothers. Then again, most of them had siblings. Brothers and Sisters probably prevented them from being their parents’ one, and only, focus.

  ‘What’re you talking about, when you’re gone?’ he said. ‘You’ll probably outlive all of us.’ Despite not being superstitious, Dan made sure to touch the wooden kitchen cupboard, just in case.

  ‘Which is exactly what I used to say to your father.’

  Dan instantly stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his mother. The woman might be prone to a lot of things, but morbidity had never been one of them. ‘Are you sure everything’s okay?’ he asked.

  She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Of course I am. Why?’

  ‘No, reason,’ he said, even though he didn’t quite believe her.

  ‘Anyone would think there’s something wrong with me for wanting to see you settled,’ she said. ‘Happy with that special someone.’

  Dan automatically laughed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You could’ve fooled me,’ he replied. His thoughts turned to his mother’s past behaviour; even she had to see the contradiction here, surely?

  She lifted the spoon again and put it to her lips, leaving Dan with no choice but to admire her bravery. His stomach turned again and needing to divert his attention, he resumed making the tea.

  ‘Remember the first time I brought a girl home?’ he said.

  ‘How can I forget?’ his mum replied, getting back to her stirring. ‘She had dark hair.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. I expected a blonde, that’s all.’

  Even now, Dan could hear the disappointment in her voice. The poor girl couldn’t have gotten a worse reception had she had four legs and a tail.

  ‘Like you used to be, you mean?’ he said.

  ‘Intelligent blondes are hard to come by. Believe you me, we’re a rare species.’

  Dan shook his head, knowing full well that his mum actually believed this. ‘So why the dislike for Lisa then?’ he asked. ‘She was blonde.’

  ‘Thanks to a bottle,’ his mum corrected. ‘Hardly the same thing.’

  ‘Then there was Cara.’

  ‘Tattoo girl! Don’t remind me.’

  She’d always given his girlfriends nicknames and none of them very complimentary.
In fact, her approach to his relationships had been so infuriating over the years, Dan had long come to the conclusion that she simply couldn’t help herself.

  ‘Mum, she had a single tattoo and it was so tiny you could hardly see it. If she hadn’t mentioned it in the first place, you’d never have known it was there.’

  ‘But she did mention it, didn’t she? And no matter the size, that’s still one too many if you ask me.’

  Dan knew he could’ve gone on, and on, if he’d wanted to. At thirty-three years old, his list of loved and lost seemed endless and most of the list was thanks to his mum. Every time he had gotten a new girlfriend she wouldn’t stop nagging for an introduction, until he finally brought them round. Then she’d only find some reason to disapprove. Of course, if she didn’t show her displeasure to the poor girls’ faces, there’d be the onslaught of criticism after they’d gone; and to this day she stood by her every word.

  ‘Every parent wants the best for their children, Dan,’ she carried on. ‘It’s just that some of us want it more than others.’

  ‘And you wonder why I’m still single.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s the trouble with the youth of today. Regardless of the issue, it’s always the parents who’re to blame.’

  She reached into the cupboard for a plate, Dan knew there was no way he could put tonight’s dinner anywhere near his mouth. Thank goodness he already had plans. ‘Don’t worry about me, Mum,’ he said. ‘I’m off out later. I’ll grab something to eat then.’

  ‘You’re going out? Again?’ she asked. ‘But I made this especially for you. It’s based on an Aboriginal dish from my time in the Outback.’

  He dreaded to think.

  ‘Sorry, Mum, but I’m pricing a job up tonight.’

  Her eyes narrowed.

  ‘I did tell you about it. Remember? Mr Watson owns two shops in town and wants them knocking into one?’

  She still didn’t appear convinced, but even though Dan had definitely mentioned his plans, he’d rather suffer his mum’s confusion than sample the food on offer.

  ‘If I didn’t know any better I’d be starting to think you don’t like my cooking,’ she said.