‘Dance with me, Joanna!’ he said as he grabbed my hand and I smiled. It didn’t matter that he’d got my name wrong, or that no one else was dancing. He beamed at me and I knew I loved him, just like that. I was wearing a red-and-white-striped halter-neck top and he called me a golden girl. Like I said, back then I really did have it all.
Nine
Jessica rushed into the room and smiled at her man, folded into a rather small plastic chair in the corner of the waiting room. He was thumbing through an old edition of Woman’s Weekly and looked very obviously relieved to see her.
‘You’re cutting it fine.’ He tossed the magazine onto the pile and wiped his hands on his thighs as he looked at the large clock on the wall. It was five to three.
‘Sorry. I fell asleep! And then I couldn’t park. I really wanted to be here nice and early.’
‘You’re here now.’ He smiled. ‘I was trying to work out how I could stall things if you were late. I was struggling for ideas. I’m glad you’re here with the star of the show.’ He nodded at her tum.
‘The star of the show is making me want to pee. It said on my little leaflet that you get a better result if you have a full bladder, so I’ve downed a couple of pints of water and now I’m desperate!’ She crossed her legs.
‘Don’t worry, not too much longer and as soon as we are done you can wee until your heart’s content.’ He kissed her nose.
‘Bliss.’
The square room was a little cramped and stuffy. Pregnant women of various shapes and sizes sat along the walls and each had brought along at least one companion. Toddlers and other children were corralled in the middle of the room, crammed into the inadequate play area, competing over the wooden table-puzzle, the Lego scattered across the floor like corn feed and the various grubby, dog-eared books. A couple of little boys were squabbling over a plastic fire engine. Their respective mothers nodded at each other across the chaos, both declining to get involved. A little girl whined loudly when another accidentally trod on her finger.
Jessica looked at the tired faces of the mothers, who mostly just sat and stared at their offspring. She wondered why they weren’t intervening and decided there and then that if ever her child were in a situation like this, she would entertain them, feed them and make sure they weren’t left crying in the middle of the play square.
‘Jessica Deane?’ the nurse called from the corridor.
She and Matthew rushed towards the door, treading carefully to avoid little hands, feet and Lego bricks.
‘Sorry about the wait. In you come.’ The smiling lady in her pale green tabard ushered them into a room that Jessica thought was actually more like a cupboard.
She kicked off her trainers and lay back on the raised couch, with a paper sheet underneath her and her jeans and pants rolled down to below her bikini line. Matthew sat in the chair between her and the wall, with barely enough room to bend his legs.
‘Feel free to ask any questions,’ the woman said.
‘Thanks. I’ve been writing up my birth plan today.’ Jessica beamed as though she was handing in homework.
‘Oh, that’s exciting. And it’ll be D-Day before you know it.’
Jessica gulped at the prospect. ‘I have decided to go for a very natural birth. I don’t want drugs. I figure if I’m being drugged then so is my baby.’
‘Well, that’s true, but the medical team will have had a lot of practice. They only use things that are safe and it’s very well controlled.’
Jessica glanced at Matthew. ‘I’m sure, but I still want it to be as natural as possible. I’m going to use lavender oil to soothe my aches and pains, initially anyway.’
The woman nodded knowingly as she scanned the screen. ‘Okay, here we go!’ She smiled as though they were on a rollercoaster just about to launch. Jessica was happy that even though the technician did this numerous times a day, she still managed to be enthusiastic and make the event feel special.
A viscous blue gel that smelt like hand-sanitiser was squirted across Jessica’s stomach and then the woman used her right hand to roll what looked like a fat-headed white plastic microphone over it. With her left hand she manipulated a mouse and clicked buttons on the keyboard that sat in front of the large computer screen.
‘We don’t want to know what we are having, do we, Jess?’ Matthew prompted.
‘No, it’ll be part of our surprise.’ Jessica kept her eyes fixed on the screen. She recognised very little apart from some grainy whitish-grey lines on a black background.
‘Oh don’t worry,’ the woman said without removing her eyes from the image, ‘it’s a little too soon for me to tell anyway.’ She smiled.
‘I can’t see much of anything, let alone a willy,’ Jessica piped up.
‘Let me go in closer.’ The woman twisted a dial and zoomed in.
Jessica squinted at the screen until she could see what looked like a fluttering tube.
‘That’s your baby’s heart.’
Jessica inhaled sharply. ‘Oh! Oh wow! My baby’s heart!’
‘And here we can see a good outline.’ She clicked the mouse and zoomed in again.
Jessica watched as the picture of their baby came into focus. ‘Oh, Matt! Look! Look!’
She couldn’t drag her eyes away from the outline that was quite clearly a baby in profile. It was easy to make out a large head with two little arms being held up to the face. There was a well-rounded tum and two legs bent in an L-shape.
‘Oh my God, that’s our baby! Look at it. That’s our little baby! It’s amazing. Just amazing.’ Jessica stared at the image on the screen as her tears gathered. Before long she was sobbing, unable to stop. She found herself quite overwhelmed, gripped by an intense fear. Wriggling from the couch, she pulled up her jeans, shoved her feet into her trainers and ran from the room.
‘Jess?’ Matthew smiled his thanks at the technician as he raced after his wife. ‘Jess!’ he called along the corridor.
He found her leaning on the car with her arms folded across her stomach. ‘What on earth…? What’s going on?’
Jessica shrugged.
‘Jess, talk to me!’ He gripped her arm.
‘Can we just get in the car?’ She looked up at him with the beginning of tears.
They drove in silence until Matt felt confident enough to speak. ‘What are you thinking?’ he coaxed.
‘Nothing.’
‘You must be thinking something!’ He laughed.
‘Well, I am now. I’m thinking about your question!’ She gave the slow beginnings of a smile.
Matthew placed his hand on her thigh.
It was a while before Jessica broke the silence again. ‘With every step of this pregnancy, I’m understanding more and more what Mum went through when she lost Danny.’ She looked out of the window as the world sped by. ‘I can’t imagine watching him go from a tiny little dot to a living, breathing thing, a teenager, and then for him to just be gone. It’s such a waste.’
‘It is. I’ve always thought your mum and dad must be so strong to have got through it.’
Jessica looked at her husband. ‘I’m not sure they did get through it, not intact. It changed them, sent them mad, and when they emerged, came out the other side, they were very different people.’
‘In what way?’
Jessica considered this. ‘My dad was quieter, more thoughtful, like he always had something on his mind. Burdened, I suppose. And my mum,’ she sighed picturing Coral before and after, ‘she lost her sparkle.’
Matthew nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘You don’t know how children are going to change your life, do you? I mean, you only think about the good, the positive, the happy, but supposing they bring you heartache, sadness, loss. It’s a gamble, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose it is.’ He squeezed her leg. ‘But one worth taking, Jess.’
‘Oh yes.’ She laid her hand over his. ‘One worth taking.’
Supper had been cleared away and the dishwasher was whirring in
the kitchen. Matthew beat the arm of the sofa with his flattened palm. ‘Stop! Stop, Jess!’ he wheezed, red faced. ‘I can’t listen to any more!’
As Jessica lay with her head in her husband’s lap, she tutted. ‘It’s not that funny, Matt. We shouldn’t be mean. I’m probably making it sound worse than it really was. I mean, it was only a yoga class and you’d think they were wacky anyway, all that finding your centre and concentrating on the now. And besides…’ She reached across the floor for the bottle, poured the remains of the red wine into his large balloon glass and raised her head to sip her iced water. ‘He may have a bit of weirdness going on, but he is really good-looking.’
‘He’d need to be really good-looking to balance things out.’ Matt placed his index finger on his thumb and chanted, ‘Ommmm.’
‘Seriously, Matt, he seems very nice, despite the weirdness!’
‘I blame his parents. We need to make sure we raise a good solid child; none of this hippified arty-farty stuff for our child. I mean, calling him Topaz, that was their first mistake.’ He rolled his eyes.
Jessica laughed.
‘I’m glad you’re laughing, honey. I was worried about you earlier, running out of the scan like that and clamming up on me. I didn’t know what to do and I hate feeling that useless. If I don’t know what’s wrong, then I can’t fix it.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No need to apologise. I just want you to be happy and I didn’t know what the problem was.’
Jessica turned to face her husband. ‘I felt a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.’
‘Well that’s understandable, this is a big deal.’ He rubbed her arm.
‘In fact, more than a bit overwhelmed. I was scared. I am scared,’ she whispered before the next sob built in her throat.
‘What are you scared of?’ Matthew held her close and spoke into her scalp.
‘I’m scared I won’t know how to do it,’ she mumbled through her tears.
‘Won’t know how to do what?’
Jessica shook herself free and wiped her mouth and eyes. ‘Mummying!’ She pushed her hair from her face. ‘I don’t know about making birthday cakes and inviting kids to parties and stuff! It was all right when I was a baby – my mum had my nan a couple of roads away to call on whenever she felt like it. Plus her friends who had babies were close by too – like Polly’s mum. It’s not like that for me. And I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do it all.’
‘Oh, Jess, you’re going to be great!’ He chuckled.
‘But supposing I’m not?’ She took a deep breath.
Matthew smoothed her hair. ‘You are brilliant. You are clever and you can do anything that you put your mind to.’
‘But I’m not brilliant at everything. I can’t iron properly and you’re right that I’m a crappy cook. And I keep thinking about Danny. Mum and Dad did everything right, they were kind and hardworking and they loved us and yet they couldn’t keep him safe, could they? How do you keep them safe, Matt? I’m so worried about getting it wrong.’
Matthew sighed. His words when they came were slow and considered. ‘Danny died in an accident and it was no one’s fault. It’s just a terrible thing that happened, but that’s not going to happen to us. I know this is scary, but you are going to be an incredible mum and I will be right by your side, helping you figure it out. We can do this together, Jess, okay? Together.’
Jessica sniffed and nodded as she smeared the paste of tears and mascara onto her arm. ‘Okay.’
‘I’m sure from what I’ve been told about Danny he wouldn’t want your pregnancy spoilt worrying about things that are never going to happen. Would he?’
‘No he wouldn’t.’ Jessica pictured her brother’s face. ‘I’m sorry I ran out. I got a bit freaked.’
‘A little bit of freaking is allowed. But don’t run away in future; talk to me, give me a chance to fix things, okay?’
‘Okay.’ She nodded again.
‘That’s my girl.’ Matthew smiled.
She took another deep breath. ‘And we need to pick names! It’s bothering me. I want to be able to picture our baby and to do that I need to give it a name.’
‘Okay. We can do that, Jess, but let’s do it at the kitchen table. I need a snack, something to soak up all that red wine, and I have a couple of emails to send to Magnus. Don’t forget, I need this job to keep young Phil in the style to which he will become accustomed.’
‘Phil?’ Jessica shook her head as they made their way along the hall.
‘Yes, after Phil Parkes, the greatest player QPR have ever had. In my opinion.’
Jessica laughed again. ‘That’s not going to happen!’
‘So what are we going to call our child?’ Matthew asked his wife as he dipped his hunk of bread into the mix of extra-virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar. ‘How about Balsamica?’ He closed his eyes in appreciation as he lowered the saturated bread into his mouth.
‘For a boy or a girl?’
‘Either. It’s genius: we both love balsamic vinegar and we are not likely to encounter another!’
‘This is our child we are talking about. Their whole future will be shaped by the name we saddle them with.’ Jessica sighed and reached across the table for the loaf.
‘Does it matter that much?’ Matthew looked genuinely perplexed.
‘Of course it does! Think back to when you were at school – who had the worst name?’ She dunked her bread into the saucer, making sure she had a good mix of both ingredients, and thought about Stella Drew, who had spent her primary-school years unfairly dubbed Smella Poo. Jessica silently chastised herself for wanting to laugh, even now.
‘At school? No one that outlandish. I mean, it’s not like we had Topaz in our class…’ Matthew suddenly wagged his finger. ‘But at uni there was a bloke in our department called Muriel Delahorn!’ He laughed loudly. ‘Poor bastard. He spent his entire life explaining that it was an old family name and should be pronounced Murrial, Murry for short.’
‘Did you call him Murry?’
‘No! Did we fuck! We called him Mavis, everyone did.’
‘Why did you call him Mavis?’
‘Because his name was Muriel and trying to hide it behind Murrial was worse, so Mavis it was!’
‘Poor bloke.’ She shook her head. ‘But this is exactly my point: give a child a stupid or way-out name and they might suffer. I think we need to give them a name that means they can be a barrister or a dustman and carry off either.’
‘Preferably the latter though, right?’ Matthew was having a hard time at work.
Jessica ignored him. ‘What about naming them after our parents?’
Matthew considered this. ‘So for a girl, Margaret Coral—’
‘Or Coral Margaret.’ Jessica knew her mother would not want to play second fiddle to Granny Margaret, even if she was too polite to say.
‘And for a boy… Roger Anthony!’ Matthew guffawed. ‘No, definitely not! Roger Anthony sounds like something Mavis Delahorn would get up to!’
‘I like Joseph or Leo for a boy and I like Beth for a girl. Bethan.’ She smiled.
Matthew smiled, realising she had given this a lot more thought than he had. ‘Leo is good, strong! But let’s talk about this later, when we’ve both had time to really think.’
Jessica nodded. But in her mind, she was already cradling a little girl called Beth.
14th October, 2013
I woke up crying and haven’t stopped all day. I can’t stop. I can’t take a deep breath. I can’t focus. Even now after two years in here. I get days like this, where I feel as if I am drowning in my sorrow. It’s a horrible, horrible way to spend a day. One of the older women came up to me when we were outside; she hovered next to me as I breathed in my precious fresh air. It was obvious I’d been crying. She patted my shoulder and said, ‘It’s hard being away from your family, especially for a young’un like you. I still find it hard, even now. I miss them so much, I ache.’ I stared at her, feeling a flicker of envy for
this woman, clearly able to express her feelings and understand loss far better than me. I didn’t want to chat to her, didn’t want to open up. I didn’t know how. Instead I sloped back to my room and picked up my sketchpad and pencils and I drew the first thing that came into my mind. It was a little striped sock. I studied it and lay my face in the pillow, to cry some more.
Ten
‘Here we go, Mrs D!’ Polly greeted Matthew’s mother at the front door of Merton Avenue and shoved the baby bottle into her hand. ‘It’s easy once you get the hang of it and you need to get over the slightly rubbery aftertaste, but apart from that it’s just like drinking a normal G&T!’
‘Oh, goodness!’ Margaret took the bottle but hesitated before placing the teat in her mouth. ‘Is Coral coming?’ she asked hopefully, wanting an ally.
‘Yes, eventually.’ Jessica smiled. ‘She’s coming straight from work.’
Music pulsed into the kitchen, which was filled with Jessica’s friends. The French doors had been thrown open to accommodate the smokers and those who wanted to make the most of the warm June rays. Everyone had brought a pretty bag or parcel, wrapped in white, with ribbons tied into big bows. The gifts were stacked high on the dining table and sat invitingly like an Aladdin’s cave of goodies, waiting to be revealed. Jessica couldn’t believe that a tiny baby could need so much stuff, but apparently they did.
They had stuck to their decision of not wanting to know the sex of their unborn baby, due in a month’s time, agreeing that the surprise was part of the fun. Matthew had hinted that he had seen something on their twenty-week scan, but Jessica ignored him, knowing it was almost impossible to accurately see anything through all those tears. She suspected that Matthew secretly wanted a boy, which was fine, as she secretly wanted a girl.
A large flipchart had been set up in the corner of the room and on it was a list of top names to vote on. Jessica watched her mother-in-law pull out her reading glasses from their natty little tartan case and run her eyes over the two lists, one in blue and one in pink. She saw how Margaret’s hand flew to her throat. ‘Kylie? Is that up for consideration?’
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