Mother's Story

by Amanda Prowse

  Jessica nodded.

  ‘Try to relax, my love,’ she coaxed, her gaze never lifting from the monitor in front of her.

  Jessica stared at the screen. Almost immediately the grainy grey and white image was apparent. Just like her earlier scan, but bigger and more obvious. Her baby. Matthew now gripped her arm; she wasn’t sure who was supporting whom.

  Jessica watched the sonographer place the tip of her tongue against her bottom lip in concentration as her eyes narrowed, focusing on a fixed point on the screen, performing the task slowly, in silence. Eventually, she removed the wand from Jessica’s stomach and sat up straight.

  ‘Bear with me a second, Jessica. I’m just going to go and fetch one of my colleagues. I’d like their opinion on something. Shan’t be a second.’ Her smile was fleeting and forced as she hopped off her stool and left the room.

  ‘How you doing?’ Matthew spoke to the side of her head.

  Jessica shrugged. How was she doing? She didn’t know. She felt remote, third-party, as though watching herself from above, hovering somewhere near the strip-light with the dead flies trapped inside it.

  ‘Morning, morning.’ The balding doctor was brusque. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries and went straight over to the screen to gaze through his glasses at a spot marked with a cross.

  ‘Yup.’ He nodded at the woman before standing upright and pulling his glasses from his face. He briefly tapped one arm of his glasses against his teeth before he spoke. When his words came, his eyes were half closed as if in prayer.

  ‘We have had a good look at what’s going on following your bleed, Mrs Deane.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And I’m afraid that it isn’t good news.’ He paused, smiling benignly at Matthew. ‘My colleague and I are in agreement that there is no heartbeat on the screen.’

  There was a moment’s silence.

  ‘Could… could it be that you just can’t see it? Should we try again?’ Matthew asked.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ The doctor smiled again. ‘We have been very thorough and I would say that, looking at the measurements, this has been the case for a week or two. I am very sorry.’

  All four stood in silence, letting the information sink in.

  ‘What happens now?’ Matthew hardly dared ask.

  ‘We’ll give you a minute or two and then come back in and explain your options.’ He nodded at them both and made his way from the room, with his colleague creeping diffidently behind him.

  Matthew stood and looked down at his wife as she lay impassively on the couch. She pulled her gown down, covering the redundant bump.

  ‘I want it gone in the quickest possible way, Matt. I don’t want to be like this any longer than I have to.’ She looked at him for the first time, aghast to see his face contorted with tears.

  ‘It’ll be okay, it’ll all be okay.’ He took her hand inside his and kissed her knuckles.

  Jessica ran her palm over the plastic-coated mattress and felt her mind slip in a fog of confusion. She was given a pre-med and had a cannula fitted in her hand, just as she had when Lilly was born, but this was for a procedure of a different kind. A procedure – those words said it all; a procedure and not a birth. The ‘evacuation of retained products of conception’ was a horrible, unemotional term, but presumably that was the point. Jessica for one was grateful.

  Matthew kissed her cheek as she was wheeled into the operating theatre. ‘I’ll be right here, waiting, my love,’ he said.

  She nodded and closed her eyes, submitting to the dark that enveloped her.

  Arriving home without the baby, Jessica felt strangely detached from her body. She was vaguely aware of how her stomach cramped as if it was in labour, but it was like it was happening to someone else. She felt drained and her brain was all jumbled up, trying to distinguish between labour and loss. She couldn’t understand why the hospital had insisted she rode to the car in a wheelchair, since the moment they arrived home she’d be climbing stairs and hopping on and off the loo, but when she tried to point this out her tongue couldn’t form the words.

  Margaret and Anthony had spent the day at Merton Avenue, looking after Lilly, who was beyond excited to see her mummy and daddy back home. Matthew made his way up the path with his arm around his wife’s waist. She made slow progress, holding the gate and wincing a little at every movement, her womb throbbing with each step.

  Mrs Not-Very was on the pavement. She’d watched in silence as Jessica hesitantly folded her limbs from the car. ‘So that’s you back then,’ she said. ‘I wish you all luck.’ It was as close to kindness that the woman had ever come and it made Matthew tear up.

  Indoors, Lilly waddled past her mum and up the stairs, with Granny Margaret in hot pursuit.

  ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea, Jess, in one second.’ Margaret kissed her daughter-in-law as she passed her in the hallway. ‘I’ve spoken to Coral, she sent all her love of course and says she’ll be over just as soon as you feel up to it.’

  Jessica nodded her appreciation at their concern.

  ‘Come and sit down, Jess.’ Anthony’s tone was soft.

  ‘Actually, Dad, I think she wants a sleep and a bit of a lie down.’ Matthew looked across at his wife.

  ‘Yes, of course. Of course,’ Anthony breathed, unsure of the right thing to do or say.

  ‘Come on, Jess, let’s get you tucked up.’ Matthew placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back and guided her up the stairs.

  The clean bed linen was peeled back. Jessica lowered herself gently onto the mattress and Matthew removed her slippers and lifted her legs, pulling the cover over her. He bent and kissed her forehead, fatherly, concerned. ‘You go to sleep, my love, and I’ll come and check on you in a bit. I’ll feed Lilly and get her settled.’

  ‘Matt?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I made this happen. It’s all my fault. But I did it for us, for us and Lilly,’ she murmured.

  ‘No. No, Jess. Of course it’s not your fault! It just happens, there’s not always a reason. You mustn’t think that. Don’t worry about a thing.’ He gently kissed his wife again, her eyes already closed.

  She just wanted to blot out the world, wanted to disappear. She lay in the dark and listened to Margaret, Anthony and Matthew fussing over Lilly. She heard the click of the kettle, the chink of china mugs being placed on the table and the scrape of cutlery. She heard the phone ring, the tap run, the loo flush and the echoes of their hushed words. She felt like she was floating, like she was on the outside looking in. She heard the occasional sob, sensed the sad, regretful atmosphere, the whispered grief. But she felt nothing but guilt and relief. Like she had been given a reprieve. And that was the truth. Her wish had come true.

  5th June, 2015

  Sometimes, I think about what my life would be like if my wish hadn’t come true. I think about a life where I am a different kind of person and time has moved on. I picture myself at a kitchen window, with Lilly playing in the garden outside; she is quite grown-up, inquisitive, but still sweet and beautiful. Oh so beautiful. And my other child, my boy, who lived, because I hadn’t wished it otherwise, is sitting by my feet playing with his cars while I prepare vegetables for supper, in readiness for Matthew who is on his way home from work. In this vision that makes me smile, the sun is shining, life is good and I am even wearing a pinny.

  Twenty-Three

  The days following the miscarriage were a rollercoaster. There were times when Jessica felt full of energy and brimming with joy at being with Lilly; she whizzed around the house like a whirling dervish, vacuuming behind sofas, cleaning windows and scrubbing the oven, belting out tunes while she did so. Lilly clearly loved these days: the house had the atmosphere of a party and the buzz was infectious. And then there were other days, when even the thought of having to make up a bottle or prepare a slice of toast and honey left Jessica crying and weary with fatigue. Today was one of those days. Today she felt so pulled by the demands of her little girl, it felt like her head might explode. Lilly r
efused to nap and when she wasn’t eating wanted Jessica to play with her. Jessica raced around the house, trying to cope. The clock ticked and she felt like there wasn’t a moment that wasn’t allocated. It was relentless. She felt a squirm of guilt as she put Lilly in front of a movie so she could doze by her side on the sofa. Usually, when the credits rolled, she would wake with such guilt that she would smother her daughter in kisses of apology, before the next wave of tiredness hit and she was once again reaching for the remote control to replay a Disney classic. But this time the phone rang, jolting her out of her sleep and making Lilly cry loudly. Desperately scrabbling for the strawberry paracetamol with one hand and the phone with the other, Jessica answered the phone on the tenth ring.

  ‘I’d nearly given up!’ It was Lavinia, Jessica’s favourite children’s editor, who worked with the agency that had commissioned her before. ‘I heard you had a baby! Congratulations! But that’s not why I’m ringing. I want you to get involved in this fantastic new project. Another nature-type book, but this time it’s talking ladybirds and bugs who take tea and tend gardens. It’s just delightful and you’d be absolutely perfect!’

  Jessica gritted her teeth and forced a smile into her voice. ‘How lovely to hear from you! But I’m afraid I’m rather tied up right now.’ She looked around at the chaos of the kitchen in which she stood and burst out laughing. The thought of being able to work to a deadline or concentrate long enough to produce anything was indeed laughable. ‘To be honest, Lavinia, I think I’ll be tied up for a very long time. I’m a mum now and as you may have heard, it’s kind of a full-time job!’ She laughed again, more drily this time. It wasn’t as if her work was valued; it was, as Matthew had implied, a glorified hobby.

  Lavinia seemed vaguely insulted by Jessica’s comment. ‘Fine, well, when you get bored of being a yummy mummy you just let me know.’

  She hung up the phone, and Jessica stood still for a moment, trying not to howl at the thought of being anything like a yummy mummy. On days like this, with greasy hair and still in her pyjamas, Jessica felt transparent, invisible, light as air, not of this world. As she went back into the sitting room to replace the phone, she caught sight of her reflection in the window and gasped, astonished to see that she was a solid living thing.

  Lilly was now very quiet, withdrawn and for this Jessica was grateful. They were getting through another day.

  Later that week, Jessica woke and listened to the noises of morning, dogs barking, cars hooting and the boiler whirring into life. Matthew stood alone in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. He needed that first cup of tea of the day to remove some of the grit from his throat and provide a small amount of fuel to see him through the first few hours. The days tumbled into one another, there was no time to stop and think. Magnus had called him out over his performance and late delivery a couple of times, he knew he was going to have to come clean soon and confess to the nightmare in which he existed. For a nightmare it was.

  ‘You off now?’ Jessica appeared at the kitchen door, her face imploring him to stay for just one more minute.

  ‘Yes, off to see a client, so I’m driving in. My dad would like him – he builds houses, lots of them. I shan’t be late. Will you be okay?’

  Jessica nodded as though trying to convince them both.

  Gripping Edith’s steering wheel, Matthew cracked open the window an eighth of an inch, hoping the slight breeze might stir the air and help him focus. It didn’t. The constant stream of cars travelling in the opposite direction on the dual carriageway blurred under his gaze as they swept past him. He ran his fingers over the glossy brochure that lay on the passenger seat, his client’s latest project. Glancing at the image unleashed a whole new level of sadness. The picture on the front was of a sparkly car in a driveway and a woman waving from the open front door, grinning as she half turned with a toddler on her hip, both eager to get back inside her brand new, shiny home. The wording promised a life of peace and tranquillity and that was what he craved, more than anything: peace. His fingers hovered over the neat front lawn, where there was a swing and an abandoned football; it made his heart constrict and stopped the breath in his throat.

  He took a large lungful of air. ‘Oh, Jess! Jess. I can’t go on like this. I can’t.’ Hot tears ran down his nose and streaked his face. He hadn’t cried like this with any regularity since he was a boy and yet this was the second time in as many weeks. He had almost forgotten how to give in to the tears. It felt like drowning and once he started, he couldn’t stop. The embarrassment of crying so hard in a semi-public place made it even worse.

  He pushed at his eyes, trying to stem the flow, but it was useless. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do it any more. I’ve had enough. What the fuck is wrong with her!’ He slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. ‘It’s such a bloody mess and so tiring. I am tired.’ He spoke aloud as he travelled alone; his crying found a new rhythm as he took two short intakes of breath for every release.

  Jessica didn’t know which kind of day it was going to be until she opened her eyes or tried to stand, but today was a good day. She and Lilly had just got back from the park; they had fed the ducks and chased each other around a tree. A good day indeed.

  Her GP, Dr Boyd, was kind and supportive, adjusting her dosage of antidepressants and encouraging her to contact him as and when she needed to. She did so less and less. There were only so many times that she could repeat how she was feeling, detailing the misery of her routine, only to be told, in a tone usually reserved for the elderly or infirm, to hang in there and that she would turn a corner, eventually. The loop of depression in which she lived sapped her of energy and the will to live. These were the darkest of days.

  It was after three days of observing Jessica operate on a fairly even keel, watching her smile and converse as though all was well, that Matthew came home with a surprise. He beamed at her from the foot of the stairs as she came down with an armful of laundry and Lilly.

  ‘Really?’ she asked.

  ‘Really. A whole weekend, just you and me. A big bed, room service, large TV and no alarm clock – how does that sound?’ He smiled, knowing he needed this as much as she did.

  Jessica grinned at her man. ‘That sounds like absolute heaven.’

  ‘Good. Because it’s all arranged. Your parents are coming here to look after Lilly and you and I are off to Cliveden for a bit of spoiling.’

  ‘Oh, Matt! No way. Can we afford it?’

  ‘No, we can’t. But my mum and dad are treating us.’

  ‘Bless them. It’ll be wonderful, just me and my man. I can’t wait.’ She slipped her arm around his waist and held him tight. ‘I really can’t wait.’

  ‘Good. Me too. Now go pack because we leave in the morning! And don’t worry about laundry and clothes: apart from breakfast, when you will be in public, you won’t be needing much.’ He winked at her.

  Jessica kissed her husband on the cheek as she passed him in the hallway. She had a good, good feeling about this weekend.

  Coral gathered Lilly into her arms to wave her mum and dad off from the front doorstep. She caught her son-in-law’s arm. ‘Look after her, lovely.’

  ‘I will.’ He smiled.

  ‘It will all be okay, Matthew. She just needs a bit of down time and some TLC.’ Coral smiled, confident that this weekend would be the break they both needed.

  Matthew nodded and gathered their overnight bags from the hall floor.

  Lilly waved in earnest and then cried before waving some more.

  ‘Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll all be fine! See you on Sunday!’ Roger shouted as they threw their luggage in the boot and jumped in Edith.

  Jessica watched her family getting smaller and smaller in the wing mirror. She sank down in the seat and popped the radio on. Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’ was playing.

  ‘Do you remember dancing to this in the kitchen?’ she asked as she watched the houses of Merton Avenue and then the shops, restaurants and bars of Chis
wick High Road glide by. Both of them turned their thoughts to that enchanted evening, which felt like a lifetime ago. Jessica looked across at her handsome husband. She reached over the console and rested her hand on his thigh. ‘We can get back to that, Matt. We can. I know it.’ She squeezed his leg beneath his jeans. ‘I love you. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it? I love you.’

  ‘I know.’ Matthew looked at his wife. ‘I love you too.’

  Less than an hour later, Matthew flicked the indicator and turned Edith into the gravel driveway of Cliveden House.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Jessica sat forward in her seat and peered at the grand house in front of them. ‘This is stunning!’

  Matthew patted Edith’s dashboard. ‘Don’t feel inferior, Edith. You might not be the flashiest motor ever to grace this driveway, but what you lack in grandness, you make up for in reliability.’

  Jessica giggled. ‘You sound as nuts as me!’

  ‘Blimey, Jess, that’s saying something.’ And they both laughed, a good belly laugh, just like they used to.

  Their room was sumptuous: fancy and decadent, with a large four-poster bed and beautiful antique half-moon tables on which sat ornate lamps that gave the room just the right amount of cosy. The large sash windows, whose plush drapes were tied back, gave the best view of the incredible manicured grounds. The en-suite bathroom had a large roll-top bath and a vintage brass radiator.

  ‘I rather like it here,’ Jessica murmured from the depths of the bed as she finished off a healthy portion of lobster ravioli, washed down with champagne. She had questioned whether the alcohol was a good idea, given that she was taking medication, but she and Matthew agreed that for one night it would be fine; this was, after all, a treat. After her second glass, she had to agree, it was a splendid idea!

  The two lay in the middle of the disarranged bed and looked at the large moon through the window. The night was silent, the air warm and the atmosphere perfect.