by Dizzy Girl
“Wake up sleepy head” I called out. Sunny picked up a pillow and put it over his head. A minute later I heard snoring again. I put the breakfast down on the bedside table and picked the duvet up and pulled it off.
“That’s just mean” said Sunny, grabbing me and pulling me onto the bed. He started tickling me. I giggled and twisted out of his reach.
“You’ve got to be at work in an hour” I told him.
“An hour? That’s ages. I could have slept for another twenty minutes and still been in on time.” He looked at me. “Unless you had anything you wanted to do first?”
The coffee and bagels were cold by the time we got to them, but I didn’t mind in the least. Sunny made it out the door with about ten minutes to get to work. I had another coffee and a long shower and got to the station before it got too busy. Even the prospect of a day at work didn’t feel so bad without a journey spent crushed against other people. Considering how little Londoners talk to each other on public transport, it’s amazing how much of the time you’re on it you spend pressed up against complete strangers.
It was nice not to be the last person in the office. Sharon pretended to do a double take when she walked in to find me already hard at work. I waited until she had walked into the meeting room and stuck my tongue out at her. It’s not like I was usually that late for work, and was never more than ten minutes too long at lunchtime.
Now that the bright summer sun had faded the office was again lit by long fluorescent strips. The natural warmth was also past, and so the decrepit heating system struggled along, puffing out warm stuffy air. By five o’clock my concentration was shot and my head was pounding. After I found myself misspelling the word ‘monitoring’ in three different ways in one email, I saved my draft and decided to try again tomorrow.
I couldn’t face treating my head ache by exposing it to the healing powers of body odour so I decided to avoid the train. I popped my earphones in, opened Spotify on my phone and let Carole King sing me home. The air wasn’t exactly fresh, walking down the main road, but at least there was a breeze and I felt the pain lifting.
I walked past the secondary school and back onto the high street, just as Carole started singing about having a friend. I walked past the chip shop where I’d first bumped into Sunny when I moved home. I’d only been home a few months, in some ways it felt so natural being back that it was like I’d never been away all those years. Part of me wished that I’d tried harder to find Sunny years earlier and that we’d not lost so much time, but it is the trials of life as much as the easy times that make us who we are. I couldn’t regret the difficulties if they had led me to a path that brought us back together again eventually.
It was an amazing feeling to have my best friend back again. That we were living together and that our future was up to us now, and not dependant on the goodwill of his parents, felt like a dream come true. I found myself wondering why I’d spent stayed with Patrick for so long. Despite the scare he’d given me when I’d bumped into him the last time, I’d never been scared of him before or I’d have left sooner. But combined with the spiteful way he had spoken to me the last few weeks before I left, I knew I’d had a lucky escape.
I decided that it came down to a basic lack of respect for me. It had all be fine when things had been easy. I might notice here or there that he expected me to do the bulk of the cooking or to organise the household tasks, but I’d always been home first and it seemed to make sense at the time. I guess if we had been able to have a family together this might have caused more problems down the line when we were more tired and busy. Would he have helped with the baby at all or have expected me to do everything? Would he have looked after me as well as Mark looked after Charlie?
I thought about how great Sunny had been with Jason. Not only had they played football together for hours, but he had spent ages helping Mark get Jason’s room ready. Charlie might have been watching Jason’s face when he showed me it, but I was watching Sunny’s. The joy on his face when Jason had been showing off the crest was plain to see. Looking after other people made him happy.
I stopped into the co-op on the way home to buy milk. It was always busy at rush hour with people stopping in on their way home from work. I grabbed a basket and weaved my way through the store. I stocked up on apples, baked beans, and pasta whilst I was in there, and was trying to work out how much bread we had left at home when someone called my name.
I turned to find Dad, basket in one hand, shopping list in the other.
“Can you read what this says?” he asked, pointing at some scrawl on the corner of his list.
“If mum wrote it then probably not” I answered. “Sorry. Try buying milk, bread and flowers just in case? Whatever it was that should cover you.”
We walked to the till together and got in the queue. As the cashier was scanning my things I remembered that I’d needed tomatoes and left Dad to bag up my shopping. I might have been in my twenties and living independently, but parents are always parents. He had taken the barrier away between our shopping and was paying for my food.
I tried to offer the cashier some money but she just looked confused, trying to work out whose cash she should take so I put mine away again.
“Why don’t you and mum come for tea one night soon” I suggested.
“We’d love to” Dad said, looking at my bag. “I’m very partial to beans on toast.”
Chapter Thirty Eight
Dad said he had lot of papers to mark during the week and Sunny was working until late most days, so we arranged that they would come for dinner on Friday. I decided to try and act like a proper grown up, and spent half the week looking up recipes for dinner parties.
“Why are you worrying so much about dinner?” Sunny asked me on Tuesday night, as I changed the menu for the third time that day. “Your mum and dad don’t really mind what they eat.”
“I know” I told him. “It’s not the food, I just realised the other day that I’d only ever cooked for them at their house. I’ve never had chance to feed them in my home.”
Sunny stopped to think about that. “I guess we’ve only lived together for a few months” he said, “and given my shifts we don’t always get to eat together anyway. But didn’t you live with Patrick for a couple of years? Did your parents never come to stay with you then?”
“No” I said. “I didn’t really think much of it at the time, I always used to go and see them. Especially because he used to pay football on Saturdays with his mates and he didn’t like to miss it. I always thought it was nice to have chance to come home and spend time with my parents by myself. Now looking back I think it was actually because he couldn’t be bothered, and he didn’t care enough about the people around me.”
“What a tosser” Sunny said.
“No argument there” I agreed. “Do you mind having my parents so close? I mean, I know we have our own place, but we see them so often.”
“I like it” he said. “When I see you and your folks, or Charlie and her mum, it shows me how families should be. There’s no fear, just a lot of love. I wish I’d grown up like that. Ok, I’ll admit the time your mum wanted to check my blood sugar at the table because I went for a wee then said I was tired, I probably could have done without, but I had just come off a ten hour shift.”
“And you were very polite” I said.
“More than could be said for your dad. He asked if it wouldn’t be simpler to check my urine, but only if she didn’t mind giving me a specimen jar so that she could take the piss.” Sunny took the recipe book from my hands, set it down on the table and kissed me. “I’m sure your parents will be happy with whatever you cook. As long as you’re happy, they will be too.”
“I am happy” I said, kissing him back. He rubbed my shoulders and I felt myself relaxing. We settled on salmon with new potatoes, and I went to sleep day dreaming about how nice it would be to have my parents as guests. The flat had changed so much since I moved in. We’d put up pictures and bought a lamp a
nd a rug. It wasn’t so much that it was untidy now but more that with two people living in it, it felt more like a home.
Sunny cooked for us. I’d tried to help but he complained that all the vegetables I chopped were different sizes and wouldn’t cook evenly, so I gave up and left him to it. Having been the relaxed one all week, I was now feeling quite mellow, I think the glass of wine I’d drunk had helped. Sunny however seemed to be getting more nervous by the minute.
The doorbell rang and I went to let my parents in. They took it in turns to give me a hug and I gave them a tour of the flat. It was one bedroom so it didn’t take long, but it was lovely to show them anyway.
They were clearly on their best behaviour because by the time we sat down to eat they’d only made six jokes about how amazing it was to see that the flat was still tidy despite having me move in. The food was delicious, Sunny had added ginger, spring onions and soy sauce to the salmon, clearly inspired by his mum’s cooking. I tucked in, but Sunny hardly ate. He could usually pack away twice what I could, though he never put on an ounce of weight. Tonight though, he was pushing the food around on his plate and only take the occasional small bite.
“Are you ok hon?” I asked. My mum leaned over and placed her hand on his forehead.
“You don’t have a temperature” she said.
“I’m fine” he assured us, jumping up to go back into the kitchen. “Soy sauce” he said, putting the bottle on the table. “In case you want to add some more.”
“It’s perfect” I assured him. Mum nodded, Dad didn’t look up. He was enjoying his food so much that he’d almost finished it.
“The salad” Sunny exclaimed. “I forgot to make it. Be right back”. He jumped up again.
“We’ve got plenty” Mum called out. “Don’t worry, come and sit, really.”
He came back and sat again, for about thirty seconds before he jumped up to get some butter for the potatoes.
After we’d finished I helped him clear the plates. As I set the dish of green beans on side he jumped at the clatter.
“What’s the matter love?” I asked. “You have ants in your pants tonight.”
“I just want it to go well” he said.
“It is, just relax. And bring more wine” I said, winking at him. I grabbed the tray of brownies that I’d baked and carried it through to the table, then went back to grab the cream from the fridge. Sunny stepped in front of the fridge and blocked my path. “Excuse me” I said.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“For you to stop being odd for a start, then the cream, please.”
He reached into the fridge and handed it to me. “No oddness here” he said, kissing me. I walked back into the living room wondering what on earth was up with him.
Sunny came back out, clutching the stems of some delicate glasses that I hadn’t seen before. He handed them out, and ducked back into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of champagne. I suddenly understood why he’d been on edge all evening.
He popped the cork and handed us each a glass. He took a big swallow of his.
Dad asked “Are we toasting something? Shall we drink to you two living together?” He raised his glass.
Sunny fiddled in his pocket and pulled out a small box. “I grew up in a pretty traditional family, but it wasn’t a happy one. I had to ask my dad’s permission to do anything, or at least hope he wouldn’t get cross at anything I did. I don’t know whether he taught me to be polite and respectful, or whether I was just scared, but I know I want to do this the right way.”
He turned to look at me. “I wanted to ask your dad’s permission first because that’s how I was brought up, but I didn’t want you to think that I thought you were his possession to give away. So I thought about how to do this, and I figured maybe the best way was to ask you all at once.”
He got down on one knee, opened the box and I saw the ring. It had one large diamond, set within a ring of smaller stones. It sparkled and shone and I couldn’t wait to put it on.
“Mr and Mrs Gough, would you mind? Amy, would you do me the…”
His mobile rang, and he fumbled in his pocket to switch it off.
“Where was I” he paused. “Would you do me the honour…”
My mobile rang. I reached to turn mine off too, but I saw the name display before I could.
“It’s Charlie” I said. “She’s due in a few days.”
“You’d better take it” Sunny said, “but if this isn’t the baby can we please get back to what we were doing?”
I smiled and took the call. I couldn’t hear Charlie talking, only deep breathing that sounded a little like an impression of a steam train. A deep breath in, then three long puffs out. “Charlie, are you in labour?” I asked.
There were still no words down the line, but a long loud grunt was all the answer we needed. I grabbed my handbag, Sunny set his glass down and we ran for the door. I turned and shouted over my shoulder “thanks for coming, please can you lock up on your way out,” and I ran out after Sunny.
Chapter Thirty Nine
“Stupid civilian cars without bloody sirens” Sunny said, as he jammed on the brakes and stopped half an inch before the red traffic lights. He found the biting point and sat with the car humming, ready to peel away as soon as the lights changed. We made it to Charlie’s in record time, he pulled into the curb and jumped out.
I ran up the path, trying to catch up to him. He rang the bell, and I took his hand as we waited. Charlie opened the door. “Thank you for coming over. I’m glad you worked out what was going on.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I saw her, but it wasn’t this. She looked totally normal, apart from her enormous bump. She stepped back so that we could get in.
“We came over as quickly as we could” we said.
“Thanks” she said. “Mark took Jason to the supermarket. They’re on their way back, but they’re going to be another twenty minutes. I didn’t want to be on my own. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
Sunny blushed red, and I took his hand. “We were just…”
I didn’t get any further as Charlie gave a groan and rubbed her stomach. She deep breathed and moaned for a minute, then the contraction must have passed. She straightened up and looked at her watch. “Oh boy, that was only six minutes apart. I think Mark had better hurry.”
“Should we phone an ambulance? Or go into hospital?” I asked her.
“When they get to five minutes apart, but I’m hoping Mark will be back by then. Thank you for coming. I’m glad of the company.”
She started pacing the room. “Shouldn’t you be lying down?” I asked her.
“No, this feels good. My midwife said to keep active if I could. She said it can help speed it up.”
“Do you want to speed it up?” Sunny asked. “Shouldn’t we wait for Mark first? Or a doctor?”
Charlie laughed. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ve done this before” She walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on. It was just coming to the boil and we heard her groaning again.
She puffed and panted, and after a minute looked at her watch. “Four minutes. You know, I think I might phone that ambulance now.”
Sunny and I looked at each other. “Did they teach you to deliver babies?” I asked.
“I’m a police officer, not an ambulance driver” he said.
“But you must have had training” I pointed out.
“It was more what to do in case you pulled someone over for speeding and the woman was in labour. It was about safety than anything medical.”
“So what do we do?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Didn’t they teach you?” he said.
“What, at girl school when they taught me to be a girl? Yes, it came after the shaving your legs session and before they taught us to use tampax.”
Charlie put the phone down. “Stop bickering you two. Anyone would think you were in labour. The ambulance is on its way. Now, Sunny, please can you grab the bags, th
ey’re in my room and bring them down.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Hold my hand and walk with me. I can feel another contraction.” She grabbed my hand and I held her as she walked through the pain. The contraction seemed to pass again and she stopped to catch her breath. “Son of a bitch I’d forgotten how much this hurt.”
I didn’t know what to say. Sunny came back into the room. “I’ve brought the bags down, and put the kettle on to make hot water. Should I grab towels too?”
Charlie shook her head. “As soon as the ambulance arrives I’m going to hospital. I’ve got it all planned. I want an epidural and plenty of doctors around.”
I looked at my watch. “Mark should be here in a few minutes too. If I’ve already gone please will you drop Jason at my mum’s then drive him over. I don’t think he should drive, he’ll be panicking” she said. I could imagine that he would. I was feeling pretty close to panicking myself.
The doorbell rang and Sunny went to answer it. He came back in with two paramedics behind him. I felt the relief flow through me. Charlie was in safe hands now. Maybe she’d even feel safe enough now to let go of my hand. But not before she’d squeezed it hard through one more contraction. I shook my hand, trying to get the bones back to the right place. It throbbed and I wondered whether it was broken. I mentioned how much it hurt and Charlie just stared at me.
“How long was it in between that one?” asked one paramedic. He looked like he was a couple of years younger than me, he had short hair, cut in a military style buzz cut, and a no-nonsense manner to boot.
“Three minutes I think” Charlie said. “Maybe a little less. Can we go to hospital now. I want my epidural.” She started to walk into the hall to pick her bags up but had to stop half way for another contraction.
The second paramedic, an older woman, maybe forty five, with ash blonde hair, handed Charlie a portable gas and air unit. Charlie sat on the sofa and breathed in the gas until it passed. “I hate to tell you this” said the woman, “but these contractions are coming so close together I’m not sure you’re going to make it to the hospital in time. Shall I ring your midwife to come here?”