Countless

by Karen Gregory

  ‘Very clever,’ Felicity says, and I think part of her means it, under the exasperation. ‘Do you believe any of this?’

  I shrug and try to give her my old hard stare. But I can’t keep it going. Maybe not all of it was BS. I pick at my sleeve which is pulled down over my hand even though it’s in the high twenties outside. I’m cold, on account of doing some extra cutting back since the Robin-is-a-dad-and-engaged-and-forgot-to-tell-me-about-either revelation. If I keep telling myself he’s just a bastard, that I don’t care anyway, it doesn’t really hurt. Much. But I can’t stop the same question spinning on repeat: why, why, why didn’t he tell me?

  I look at Felicity looking at my pulled-down sleeves, her face concerned, and try to care. Rose is snoozing in her buggy. That girl does nothing but sleep some days, especially if she’s doing a growth spurt. It’s just never all in one go, or when you want her to. That’s why I ended up scrawling those pages at 6 a.m. this morning, because Rose was up and I basically had nothing else to do, no one to talk to.

  I may as well admit it. I miss Robin. I miss him trying to tempt me to eat, and our stupid talks about nothing at all. I miss that we never had a lightsabre fight, or took Rose to the beach like we planned, so we could all build sandcastles. But they’d only have been smashed up by the tide anyway.

  ‘Who’s the Walking Woman?’ Felicity asks.

  ‘She’s just … someone I see.’

  ‘Mmm?’

  I nearly laugh. Does she ever get tired of that noise? Apparently not.

  ‘She’s an anorexic, I think. I’ve never actually spoken to her. She walks around and around all day like there’s nothing else in the world.’

  ‘You sound like you admire her.’

  ‘I do. I used to.’

  ‘And now? You’re not so sure any more, are you?’

  I nearly do it. I nearly agree with her. But Nia is still here, stronger than ever some days. Like she knows I’m having second thoughts. I go for the old standby instead. ‘Maybe …’

  Silence. The clock ticks.

  In her buggy Rose lets out a teeny, adorable snuffle. I look over at her and smile, despite myself. But it doesn’t last.

  ‘Can’t I have them both? Nia and Rose?’ I say, my eyes pleading. ‘Plenty of people do for years.’ I think about the Ana videos I’ve been watching and decide Felicity would probably tell me off if I mentioned them. ‘I could have them both, maybe. If I control Nia.’

  Felicity smiles again, but it’s full of sadness. ‘Control. That’s the biggest self-deception of them all, don’t you think?’

  For once, when I walk away from the session with Felicity, I’m not thinking about how clever I was, or who won this time, but about control and who has it, exactly. I always thought it was me. But, if I’m being honest, even I know enough by now to realise there’s a tipping point, a place where Nia reaches out and grabs you and then you’re a rocket heading for the sun with no way to turn back.

  What if it’s been Nia in control all along?

  The thought nearly makes me steer the buggy into a lamp post.

  I stop by the benefits place to give in my forms and then wander to the shops, counting how many steps I take. I need a new phone and manage to find a PAYG I can’t really afford at a market stall near the old golden arches. The sickly burger smell reminds me of the day I found out about Rose. It seems more than one lifetime and also like it happened five minutes ago. I still don’t think I quite believe it.

  They’re digging into the pavement nearby; the drilling is loud and sounds in my ears even after it fades. Everything seems sharper and further away, and I realise I haven’t actually eaten yet today. It makes things clear and blurry round the edges at the same time.

  Outside the Methodist hall there’s a huge ugly clock with cherubs around it – at least I think that’s what they’re supposed to be, except their eyes are so blank and their smiles seem to be pulled back in fear, not contentment. The hands on the clock tick slowly and I can hear some answering tick somewhere deep inside, but I’m not sure what I’m counting to. Numbers have been the backdrop to my life for so long. I look up at wriggly lines of cloud and imagine a vast hand parting them, reaching down and grabbing handfuls of numbers until there’s none left in the world. Would it be a better one, or worse?

  I store this thought up, thinking I might tell it to Felicity or maybe even Robin, when I remember I’m not speaking to him.

  I go to the library to change Rose’s books, hoping that if I keep moving I can stop thinking, but my thoughts still carry on zooming back round to Robin and Jade and Ellis. I grab six books for Rose, but I barely look at them, because my eyes are blurring with tears. I suddenly can’t bear the thought of going back to the flat to sit there with Rose, knowing Robin is next door. I do my old trick and swipe two books from the to-be-shelved section and shove them on the self-checkout under Rose’s books. I hear a clicking noise and turn to see a woman giving me an odd look. I glare at her, then leg it out before she can say anything.

  I don’t bother with the bus, but take my old walk back to the Yewlings, through the underpass and out across town. I bump the buggy methodically up all eight flights of stairs, feeling the burn in my arms as I go. In my head a faint clock ticks with each jolt, counting the calories.

  Inside, the flat feels so empty. I read a couple of books to Rose, put her down for a nap, then pace the blue rug in circles. Music blares from the flat next door – the dodgy side, not Robin – bass thumping the walls so I can hardly think. In desperation, I tip out the rest of Rose’s books and find the two I grabbed from the to-be-shelved section.

  Despite everything I find myself smiling. No wonder the woman in the library gave me a weird look.

  I’m seventeen, skint, alone, with a baby I can barely keep in clean nappies and all I have to distract myself with are Birdwatching for Beginners or Fifty Shades of Grey. With pages turned down at the corners and everything.

  Seems like the universe has a sense of humour even when I don’t.

  Chapter 26

  Jade and Ellis are still at Robin’s flat. I know this because I’ve heard Ellis crying, late in the evening, and also conversations that rise up to a crescendo, then fade away when Ellis adds his voice. I think, Screw you, Robin, and put music on to shut them out, until the other side wallops the wall. Seems the rules about being quiet only apply to me, not him, which isn’t exactly fair. Then again, he’s a lot bigger than I am.

  A couple of days after I get my new phone, I’m coming out of my flat as Robin’s door opens to reveal him in the doorway holding Ellis. We stand there in a freeze-frame, watching each other. We’ve got our babies slung up over our shoulders like we’re on either side of a really weird mirror. They’ve even got on similar babygrows. Spielberg couldn’t have staged it better. Even if he was a sadist or something.

  ‘So, this is your son,’ I manage.

  Robin looks at the baby in his arms like he’s still trying to figure that one out.

  ‘Might have been nice to mention it to me,’ I say.

  ‘I know. I’m sor–’

  ‘Don’t.’

  I turn and I’m about to bang the door shut, when Robin says, ‘Hedda, please.’

  The desperation in his voice makes me stop, my back still to him.

  ‘Can we … find somewhere to talk?’

  ‘Five minutes,’ I say.

  I sit cross-legged in the hallway, Rose on my lap, and after a moment, he sits too.

  There’s A Silence.

  ‘Four minutes,’ I say.

  ‘OK.’ Robin takes a deep breath, lets it out in a whoosh. He fiddles with one of Ellis’s poppers. ‘I never meant … didn’t want …’ He sighs again, like he’s given up. ‘I was going to tell you.’

  ‘Oh yeah? When was that? Before I had Rose or after? Slipped your mind, did it?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That it?’ I uncross my legs, about to go.

  ‘Wait. Please.’

 
I sit back. ‘Three minutes. I’m serious.’

  ‘OK.’ He sighs again, then starts talking in a speedy monotone, like he’s going over lines he’s had in his head for a while. ‘Jade and I grew up together. Our parents are best friends. We lived on the same street. We all went on holidays together –’

  ‘Is this coming to a point any time soon?’

  ‘I’m trying to explain. Give me a second,’ he says, and it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him raise his voice.

  I tilt my chin and stare at the door of the flat opposite. The hard floor is beginning to hurt my bum. I swivel Rose so she’s leaning against my other arm, away from Robin.

  ‘Maybe it was inevitable, considering how close we were, but eventually we started dating. After about a year together, things … progressed.’

  I wince.

  ‘And … Well, we were stupid. Not careful. She was on the pill, but … you know.’

  ‘Mmm.’ I bring out a Felicity Session voice.

  Now Robin winces.

  Rose is playing with my fingers, her tiny hands warm and soft. Comforting.

  ‘It was … well … a shock. And it was the worst possible time too. I’d already been thinking … We were about to break up. Well, I thought we were … I was going to uni, you see, to do Law. I had this idea I’d be a human rights lawyer, you know, for Amnesty or something. I’d already said I wanted to take a break. She was so hurt. But I knew I didn’t …’ He pauses and rubs at his forehead. ‘I didn’t love her. But then she found out she was pregnant and she didn’t want to … She wanted to have the baby. Her parents were furious at first, of course, but then they started making plans, about how we’d get married, then they’d help us get a place. I could get a job. Mine on the other hand …’

  ‘I’m guessing they didn’t take it too well?’

  ‘Not exactly. My mum thought we were both far too young to be parents, that there was no way we’d cope. She wanted Jade to have an abortion. They had this massive fight, my mum and Jade’s mum, and stopped speaking to each other. Then when Jade said she was definitely keeping the baby, my mum was on at me all the time, telling me I should go to uni, that I could still stay involved with the baby in a different way. God, that sounds so harsh, but I think my parents were just worried, you know? But I didn’t listen to them. I let Jade and her parents sweep me up in it all. We moved in together. Her dad got me a job in his office.’

  He pauses again, remembering. ‘At first, it went OK, but as she got bigger, it was like she was getting further away. We started having these awful fights, Jade screaming at me, telling me to leave. It was like she couldn’t forgive me for wanting to split up before I knew about Ellis. One argument, she threw a bowl of cereal at my head.’

  I raise my eyebrows. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I ducked.’

  A ghost of a smile flits over my face, then goes. I nod at him to go on.

  ‘And cleaned it up. She was really pregnant by then.’

  There’s another pause. ‘So, what happened then? She obviously had the baby.’

  He ducks his head over Ellis, sprawled fast asleep on his lap. I think Robin’s crying. ‘Yes. She wouldn’t let me stay with her for the birth – she had her mum with her – but I waited outside in the corridor and they let me in afterwards. She was sitting up in bed holding Ellis and when I saw him, how tiny he was, how perfect … I can’t explain it. Everything leapt inside. And I knew I’d make it work somehow.’

  I know what he means; I felt it too, with Rose, when I decided to keep her. I give a tight nod.

  ‘We had a couple of weeks all together, but then I had to go back to work. Jade started spending more and more time at her parents’ house. They still weren’t speaking to my mum and dad, and neither was I. Ellis never slept. We started to argue again. I tried not to, but … well, you know what it’s like.’

  I stare at him. It looks like the ghosts of all those sleepless nights are sitting on his shoulders, pulling them down. And part of me flares in anger. Yeah, I know what it’s like.

  But then he says, ‘One day I came home from work and they’d just … gone.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ I say. It just slips out.

  His face contorts. ‘She found a letter from uni. I’d told her I wasn’t going, that I was staying with her and Ellis, but actually I’d deferred my place.’

  My mouth drops open. The last few weeks I’ve tried to make everything fit, but I still can’t square this Robin with the one I thought I knew.

  ‘I hadn’t decided to go for sure! I just … I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I wanted. I was scared, you know? I wanted to –’

  ‘Keep your options open?’ My voice is laced with sarcasm.

  He drops his head. ‘Something like that. I couldn’t explain it to Jade. She took the money for the rent and went back to her parents to live. I went there, I called, but she didn’t want to see me and her parents backed her up. Her dad sacked me, told me I was pathetic. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go home, even if Mum and Dad would have had me back. I was angry at them too.’

  ‘So where did you go?’

  ‘To my grammy’s at first. I slept on her sofa. Then she heard a friend of a friend was moving out from the flat here and she sorted it all out. Paid the deposit and the first month’s rent. I thought it would only be for a couple of months. I kept on hoping we’d sort something out. I still thought we could try and make a go of it somehow, for Ellis. I missed him. I didn’t really know how to do all that legal stuff so I could see him, and I didn’t want to put Jade through that. And anyway, I had no money for a solicitor. She never answered her phone but I kept writing her emails and letters, hoping she’d reply, but she didn’t. So I guess I just sort of … left it. Once I got here.’

  I’m frowning, trying to process all this. Part of me wants to shout at him, to tell him I agree with Jade’s dad; he’s pathetic. That he should have fought harder if he really loved Ellis that much.

  I remember the pictures on his wall. The two girls who must’ve been his sister and Jade. And the one I thought was Robin as a baby, but instead was his son who he never once mentioned. How can this be Robin? This boy who’s … what? A coward? A liar? Or scared and alone?

  I’m all of those things.

  I weigh it all, feeling Rose, solid in my lap. I look at Ellis’s sleeping face, Robin’s hand stroking his head absently.

  In the end, I simply say, ‘Your grammy could’ve picked a nicer location. This place must’ve been one hell of a shock.’

  Robin snaps his head up and gives a short laugh. ‘Maybe a bit. But then, well … I met you and –’

  ‘Oh well, that must’ve made it all better.’ I say it sarcastically, but Robin shakes his head.

  ‘It did. Don’t you see that? You, and Rose, you both did,’ he says.

  And suddenly something clicks in my brain. How supportive he was once he found out I was pregnant. The way he looks at Rose.

  I push myself up. ‘Screw you,’ I say over the top of Rose’s head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It was Rose, wasn’t it? You saw her as some sort of, what, substitute?’

  ‘No. God, no, Hedda. That’s totally not what I mea–’

  ‘You did! It was Rose all along. That’s who you –’ I break off. Shake my head. ‘No wonder you didn’t tell me.’

  ‘I tried to. I really did. That day in the woods, I was going to tell you then, but you were so tired. And when we made the cake. But it was like it had grown into this enormous thing, and I didn’t know how …’

  ‘You could’ve just told me straight away.’

  ‘I know that. But … it hurt, OK? I wanted to forget all about it.’

  I remember the look he sometimes had, when I first met him. That he still gets. The one I ignored because I didn’t want to see him as anything other than Robin the sorted guy, the one who looked out for me. Someone I could lean on. But I can’t help it; I’m still furious, angrier than I’ve let myself be
in a long time, and I have to hold on to it, because underneath is this feeling in my chest, like someone’s replaced my real, crappy heart with one made out of tissue paper.

  I don’t know if I believe him. Don’t know what I want to believe.

  ‘Jade says she wants to try again. That she’s sorry, she wasn’t thinking properly. She wants to stay until I’ve had a chance to think and decide what to do,’ Robin says.

  I turn it all over, trying to work it through, but it’s like a light bulb on overload and the only thing I can do is shut down before I explode. I pinch at my forehead.

  ‘So have you? Decided?’ I say.

  ‘I’m not sure. I mean, I’m angry with Jade. But there’s …’ He looks down at Ellis, who stirs in his sleep, then pings awake like a little bouncing monkey, that cheeky smile on his face that’s so like Robin’s. Robin smiles back for a moment and bumps him up to sit upright, letting Ellis play with his hands.

  I sigh. A massive wave of tiredness hits me. ‘Well, you’d better get sure.’

  ‘I know. Jade and I need to talk. Properly talk.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I look down at the dark curls on Ellis’s head, his little fingers rubbing over Robin’s nails like he’s feeling their smoothness. ‘Then you shouldn’t be talking to me.’

  He opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, then closes it again and nods.

  ‘Jade’s right, you know,’ I say quietly. ‘You don’t belong here.’

  I go into the flat and listen to his door click shut. My chest is still tight and I’m breathing so fast I have to put Rose on the floor. I sit next to her. A big part of me wants to run back to Robin’s door, to scream at him, or to kiss him, tell him he has to stay here, with us. But I know I have to leave him alone.

  I try and push thoughts of Robin out of my head, shove deep down the urge to cry.

  What now? I can’t stay in forever. Rose needs nappies and I need some food for the flat, even if it is for display purposes only.