by Louise Hall
Back in the nursery, her eyes darted wildly until she found the purple monkey on the chest of drawers. She focused on that for a second; it was the silliest thing she’d ever seen. She picked up the monkey, hugging it to her chest so the fur tickled her nose. It made her think of Kian, fast asleep just down the hallway. Cate put the monkey back on the chest of drawers and left the nursery just as she’d found it. She walked back down the hallway to her husband and their bedroom.
“Is everything OK?” Kian asked softly, as she climbed back into bed.
“Everything’s fine,” Cate smiled, kissing him gently before settling down on her side. “I just needed the loo.”
“Mm,” Kian said, already going back to sleep. He lifted up his arm and she pushed back against him. She could feel the heat of his body, right down from her neck to her ankles. He tucked her cold feet between his calves and wrapped his arm gently underneath her breasts. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder as he fell back asleep.
Later that afternoon, Cate felt the start of another suffocating panic attack. The walls seemed to be closing in on her. Bracing herself against the kitchen counter, she closed her eyes and tried counting to 10. “It’s OK; everything’s going to be OK.” When she opened her eyes, it took a couple of seconds for the kitchen to stop looking blurry. She felt faint. I probably just need some fresh air, Cate tried to reassure herself. She grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the back door.
At first, being outside seemed to help. She was partway up Cooper Lane when she felt a searing pain slice through her stomach. She’d stopped close to one of the wooden gates leading into the fields and quickly grabbed the post for support. She bit down too hard on her lip; she could feel the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. She tried to breathe through the pain but it was relentless, just wave after wave with no respite. “You’re OK,” Cate repeated to herself, trying really hard not to panic. The hospital had warned her about false labour pains; she wasn’t due for another couple of weeks.
She fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone, before realising that she’d left it charging on the kitchen counter. She hadn’t meant to be gone more than 10-15 minutes. She looked up and down Cooper Lane but it was deserted. Cate decided that she was nearer to the Black Horse than she was to home. She could call Liv from there. Even though the pain was getting worse; she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand up.
She took a few more steps towards the pub and then suddenly, she felt a flood of wetness between her legs. When she looked down, there was a dark-red puddle on the ground. The pain was getting worse, she couldn’t stand up straight and her vision was getting blurry; the pub seemed to dance in front of her eyes.
“Keep it together, Cate,” she said, putting a hand on her lower back. She couldn’t stay there; she needed to get to the Black Horse.
“Ow,” she cried as another pain sliced through her stomach.
Somehow, she got to the pub. There were a couple of wooden picnic tables out front and Cate was so tired; the pain was almost unbearable, she lay down on the bench for a minute and closed her eyes.
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Excuse me, are you OK?”
Cate looked up and recognised Wilf, the landlord.
She couldn’t lift her head up off the bench. “I think I’m in labour,” she said weakly.
“Oh,” Wilf’s face turned pale and he started twiddling the ends of his white moustache. “Oh.”
He went inside the pub and came back with his wife, Thelma. She took one look at Cate curled up on the bench and said to her husband. “Get the car. Now.”
Wilf and Thelma helped her on to the flattened backseat of their Volvo. There was a tartan blanket which smelled of dogs. Thelma held her hand all the way to the hospital. Every time Cate closed her eyes, Thelma kept repeating, “Stay with me, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be OK.”
When they got to the hospital, a stretcher appeared and Cate was lifted on to it. Thelma came inside with her, still holding on to her hand. “Is there anybody you want me to call?” she asked Cate.
“Excuse me ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to wait out here,” a nurse stepped between them.
“Kian,” Cate said and then the stretcher was gone, through the swinging doors.
“Is she okay?” Wilf asked, putting a hand on Thelma’s shoulder. He’d been parking the car.
“She wants me to call Kian but she didn’t give me his surname?” Thelma asked Wilf. “Do you know him?”
“She must mean Warner,” Wilf said, twiddling his moustache. “He lives at the end of Cooper Lane.”
Wilf knew he was a footballer for Manchester Rovers and found a telephone number for the club’s main switchboard. “Hello, Manchester Rovers, Lucy speaking, how can I help you?”
It was Lucy’s 1st day on the switchboard and Wilf sounded genuine so she gave him the number of Dave, Kian’s agent.
“Hello?” Dave shouted to be heard above the noise of the crowd inside the stadium.
“I’m trying to get in touch with Kian Warner, are you his agent?”
Dave laughed. “He’s a bit busy at the moment, mate. How did you get this number?”
Thelma took the phone from Wilf. “Listen here, you tell Mr Warner that there’s a girl about to give birth at Handsworth Hospital and she’s asking for him.”
“Who is this?” Dave demanded. The noise of the crowd disappeared; he must have gone inside.
“My name’s Thelma Harris and my husband and I run the Black Horse pub. The poor girl… Wilf, what’s her name? He says her name’s Cate. Anyway, we found her collapsed outside our pub, she was in a bad way the poor thing, there was a lot of blood…”
“Okay, I’m sorry, thank you,” Dave raced over his words. “I’ll tell Kian straight away. Thank you.”
“What a horrible, little man,” Thelma said, sitting back down next to Wilf.
Dave made a call to Bob, the Rovers kit manager. “You need to substitute Warner.”
He quickly explained what had happened and a minute later, the board came up, announcing that Kian was being brought off. The fans booed and Kian had a face like thunder. “What the hell?” He asked the assistant manager who met him at the side of the pitch.
“Bob, take him to the dressing rooms,” The assistant manager said tersely. “Now.”
When he got to the tunnel, Dave was waiting for him. “What are you doing here?” Kian asked.
“Come with me,” Dave said quietly. “Bob will get your stuff together.”
Kian followed him out of the stadium, where a car was already waiting for them. “I can’t even get changed. What the fuck is going on?”
“Let’s go,” Dave said to the driver, who immediately sped off.
“Cate’s gone into labour.”
“What?” Kian looked shocked. “But she’s not due for another two weeks?”
Dave told him everything that he knew. Kian called the hospital but they could only tell him that she’d been taken into surgery.
When they got to the hospital, Kian felt sick to his stomach. The last time he’d been there was when his Dad had died.
Dave took control, finding out where they needed to go. When they got there, there were two people sat outside one of the rooms. Kian opened the door but it was empty. On the white board above where the bed should have been, Cate’s name was written in big, red letters. Kian found her denim jacket on the chair and picked it up, holding it to his face. He could smell her blackberry shampoo on the collar. The bottom of one of the sleeves was still damp and when he looked at it, it was stained with blood.
Kian looked down at the floor; there was a pool of what looked like blood. Was that Cate’s blood?
He stepped out of the room as a nurse walked past him. He grabbed hold of her arm. “Hey,” she said sharply.
“I’m sorry,” Kian quickly removed his hand from her arm. “My wife was brought in here, Cate Warner?”
She softened a littl
e. “She’s still in surgery; they had to do an emergency C-section.”
“But she’ll be OK, right?”
“She’s in good hands,” the nurse patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve really got to go.”
Kian stood there in a daze.
“Do you want me to call anybody?” Dave asked.
Kian shook his head. He wanted to wait until he found out whether she was OK before he worried anybody else.
“I’ll get you some clothes,” Dave said, eager to get out of the hospital.
Thelma and Wilf were still sat outside Cate’s room. Kian sat down next to them.
“Is she going to be okay?” Thelma asked.
Kian shrugged, “she’s in surgery.”
All Thelma could think about was the blood. “Well, she’s in the best place. It’s a good hospital.”
“How do you know Cate?” Kian asked.
Thelma explained that she and Wilf ran the pub at the end of his road. “That’s where we found her.”
“Now you’re here,” Wilf interrupted, “we’ll be on our way.”
“We can stay if you want,” Thelma said. “Just until you know?”
“Thanks, I’ll be okay,” Kian said. He hated hospitals. He kept thinking about his Dad. It was the same hospital.
As Wilf and Thelma were about to leave, Kian suddenly got up. “I’m sorry. I should have said this straight away. Thank you for looking after her.”
“Nonsense, anybody would have done the same,” Thelma said. She gave him a warm hug. “I’ll say a prayer for you all.”
After Wilf and Thelma left, Kian was on his own. He couldn’t stop thinking about that pool of blood on the floor.
Was Cate going to be OK? He put his head in his hands, the blood rushed through his ears. “Please Dad,” Kian prayed. “She’s my first half. Please bring her back to me.”
Eventually, after what felt like ages, a nurse came and found him. “Mr Warner? They’ll be bringing your wife up soon.”
“She’s okay?” Kian asked.
“She’ll be a little bit groggy at first but yes, she’s okay.”
“Oh, thank God,” Kian breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”
As soon as the doors swung open and the trolley was wheeled through, Kian was by Cate’s side right away.
“Angel, I love you,” he repeated, kissing all over her beautiful face. Her eyes remained close; she was still sedated.
He grasped her hand and held it firmly inside his own. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispered, kissing each of her knuckles.
As the sky darkened outside, he said another prayer. “Angel, please wake up.”
Eventually, her eyes fluttered open. “Hey,” Kian said softly, his voice cracking. He felt like he’d won the Lottery.
“Where am I?” Cate looked around anxiously.
“You’re in the hospital, angel,” Kian stroked her cheek. “It’s OK.”
Cate felt empty, she ran her hand over her stomach. Her eyes darted back to Kian’s; she noticed that he was still wearing his Rovers’ shirt. She tried to swallow but her throat was so dry, she started coughing. “The baby?” Cate spluttered.
Kian felt like shit, he hadn’t even thought to ask, he’d been so concerned about Cate. The nurse updating the chart at the end of the bed smiled at them both. “She’s fine, she’s in the nursery.”
“She’s…” Cate’s eyes welled with tears. “Really, she’s OK?”
“She’s perfect,” The nurse smiled.
Cate turned to Kian. “Can you believe it? We have a daughter.”
Kian buried his face in Cate’s nightgown. He’d tried so hard to stay strong but now he knew Cate and the baby were OK, everything hit him all at once. Less than a year ago, he’d lost his Dad in this hospital and tonight he’d almost lost Cate. But he hadn’t, she was right here and she’d given him a daughter. He smiled through his tears, thinking about how much he couldn’t wait to meet this tiny, little thing that was a part of him and Cate.
You were right, Dad. I did hurt Cate but I’m here now. I love her with everything that I have. I’m going to be the best Dad to that little girl, my daughter. I can’t wait for late-night feeds and dirty nappies. I could have lost them, both of them. Thank you for bringing them back to me, Kian prayed, hoping his Dad could hear him.
As if she knew what he was thinking, Cate didn’t say anything, she just gently stroked her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Have you thought of a name for the little cutie yet?” The nurse asked Cate.
Cate looked down at Kian. He’d been right all along. “Lola.”
Dear Reader,
I definitely can’t thank you enough for spending your hard-earned money on My First Half but thank you, thank you, thank you anyway!
Now that it’s finally been published, I would love to know what you thought about it (good or bad, I promise). You can either e-mail me at [email protected], check out my Facebook page (where you’ll also be able to find out about future releases) or leave a review on Amazon.
All the best,
Louise