SUSAN
I lay on my side in the hospital bed and watched Mary as she slept in the plastic cot beside me. Her tiny arms were high over her head and her feet moved in time to a silent rhythm. First one and then the other kicked out: kick, kick, kick and kick – one, two, three and four. My daughter was already dancing to her own tune.
My baby girl. I had a baby girl. I was a mother. I’d done it and I could hardly believe it. I may have been little more than a child myself – I was basically a child with a child – but she was mine and I knew that I would love her forever, protect her from anything and even give my life for hers if I had to. I knew the bed that I had made, as Mum would say, and I was happy to lie in it; it was fine by me because Mary and I would be in it together.
Later, as I held Mary in my arms and gently rocked her to sleep, I thought – not for the first time that day – about my own mother. Surely she must have felt this way when we were born? Oh, but maybe not, because I remembered that she hadn’t wanted me, but she must have with the other two.
I looked around the four-bed ward that I was in and tried to gauge how the other mums felt about their new arrivals. I was in the corner by the window and could see them all clearly.
The woman next to me was probably in her thirties and told me that she had just had her fifth son. She’d spoken to me as soon as I’d been settled on to the ward and asked me how I was and what I’d had, that sort of thing. When I told her that I’d had a baby girl, she laughed and asked me what my secret was.
‘Just had my fifth bloody lad,’ she said nodding towards where he lay in his cot. ‘Fifth for goodness’ sake, that’s nearly half a football team. Never mind, there’s always next time.’
Next time!
‘Just kidding love,’ she laughed, ‘he’s my last.’
The woman opposite me looked about the same age and she’d had a baby boy too. She told us that it was her first baby and that she and her husband had been trying for one for years. She called him their ‘blessing from God’.
The woman next to her was a bit younger than the other two I would have said, but certainly older than me. She’d had her baby girl a few days before I’d had Mary and the woman in the bed next to me, the one with the five boys, told me that she’d never once seen her pick her daughter up.
Even when the baby cried she didn’t picked it up and when it was hungry a nurse would come and feed it.
‘Post-natal depression,’ the woman next to me said. I wish that I could remember her name but I’m not very good with names. ‘I’ve seen it before,’ she said. ‘I had it when our so and so was born, he was my third. I never saw him go hungry like that though. I still fed him and kept him clean. I just couldn’t stand the bloody sight of him till he was six months old.’
I was a bit embarrassed because I couldn’t see how the woman opposite could help but hear what was being said about her.
Later, when the others were sleeping I lay back on my pillow, looked out of the window and thought about what the woman next to me had said about not being able to stand the sight of her baby until he was six months old. How could such a thing happen? I felt as though I could spend the rest of my life just looking at Mary. I couldn’t understand how any mother, including my own, could not feel the same way as I did and I pitied them. I pitied them because this was the best feeling in the world.
Visiting time started at two and I was pleased when I saw Sharon appear at the door with a teddy bear in her hand. When she was close enough she reached over and gave me a big hug.
‘Well done love,’ she said, before turning her attention to my baby. ‘Who’s this then? Have you decided?’ she asked.
‘Mary,’ I said with pride.
Sharon could only stay about half an hour because she needed to get back to the house. I was sadder than I had ever imagined I would be when she said that, because I knew that I wouldn’t be going back there. Where would I – we – be going? I asked Sharon.
‘My guess would be to a flat in Palmer’s Court,’ she said, ‘near Mandy. But don’t get your hopes up too much,’ she continued. ‘It’ll depend on whether there’s an opening there or not. It’ll be somewhere like that though. Someone will come and see you about it in the next couple of days.’
I remember her looking at her watch and then checking the time against the clock that was on the wall above the window. She apologised and said that she would have to go. She gave me a hug and stroked Mary’s cheek before she left. I have never seen Sharon again since.
The following afternoon they had a visiting session that was just for fathers. One of the nurses said something about it being a chance for both parents to bond with their new baby. Obviously there was no father to visit my baby so I pretended to read a magazine but was really looking over the top of it to see how the fathers were getting on with their bonding session.
I heard the one on my right suggesting that they try again for a girl, but his wife was having none of it. Over her dead body was how she put it. The one opposite looked as pleased as Punch, so proud of his achievement that he spent the entire time kissing his wife and his baby in turn. The husband of the woman diagonally opposite me spent his time trying to coax his wife to even look at their baby.
I thought about Tim and wondered how different things might have been. I wondered if I should contact him. No, probably not. I mean, perhaps he had the right to know that he was a father but I doubted that he would care. I was certain that mum wouldn’t have told him that I was pregnant so it would be a hell of a shock for him if I suddenly rang and told him that he had a daughter. There’d be no point in it anyway. Mum was right about one thing at least: he hadn’t wanted me before so why would he want me now?
I looked at Mary and thought of how I would have to be both mother and father to her. That wouldn’t be a problem because I had more than enough love to give her. Tim would probably never know it, but I was so grateful to him because he had given me what was, and will always be, the most precious thing in my world.
Later, after the fathers had all gone home, the woman on my right asked about Mary’s dad. ‘Does he work away, like?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t a lie as such because he did work away in a sense. He certainly didn’t work anywhere near where I was.
‘He must be happy, though,’ she said, ‘having a gorgeous little girl like that.’
‘Who wouldn’t be?’ I said, and again it wasn’t quite a lie.
She left it at that but I was fairly certain that she didn’t believe me. She’d had five children of her own so could probably spot a lie and I doubted that she’d believed what I’d told her. I hadn’t actually lied to her though, had I? Not really, I just hadn’t told her the truth. Was this how life was going to be from now on? Would I always be hiding my past? I was fairly sure that my mum would be lying to people about what had happened to me and here I was doing just the same.
***
Two or three days before I was due to leave hospital, a woman appeared at the door of the ward. She caused a bit of interest because she didn’t look like a doctor and it wasn’t visiting time. I thought immediately that she had come to see me and I wasn’t wrong.
She looked around the room and then came straight to me.
‘Susan,’ she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. ‘I’m Paula.’
‘Hello,’ I said as she sat down on the chair beside my bed.
As I suspected, Paula had come to talk to me about where Mary and I would be moving on to. My heart was in my mouth, but when she told me that there was an opening at Palmer’s Court I allowed myself to breathe.
‘I think that you know one of the girls that already live there,’ she said.
‘Yeah. My best friend Mandy lives there,’ I said, surprising myself by how I’d described her. I was happy that we would be living near her.
Paula told me that we would go there when we were discharged from hospital and she explained about the support that I would get once I was t
here. We would have our own individual flat and be encouraged to live independently but we would have support should we need it.
I knew that things were not going to be easy when we left the hospital. For a start I would be looking after Mary on my own. There wouldn’t be nurses on hand to help me when she cried, and that was a bit of a concern to me, but Paula assured me that everyone felt that way and said that I should try not to worry. I had two more days to get as confident as I could before we were on our own and I hoped that would be long enough. Anyway, if I got stuck Mandy would be close by and that made me feel a little better.
‘You’ll be okay,’ Paula said as she stood up to leave. She stroked Mary’s tiny fist. ‘You’ll learn from each other.’ She shook my hand again and said that she would see me in two days’ time to take me and Mary home.
I liked the sound of that.
The woman in the bed beside me, I think her name might have been Barbara, was flicking through a magazine but I could see that she wasn’t really looking at it at all. She was watching Paula leave the ward. Barbara put the magazine down and twisted on her bed so that she was looking at me.
‘Everything okay?’ she asked.
‘Yeah. Fine, thanks.’ A feeling of what the hell came over me and I decided to come clean. I wasn’t ashamed. ‘That was a social worker,’ I said. ‘She came to tell me where Mary and I are going to live when we leave the hospital.’
‘Oh!’
Barbara – I am so glad that I finally remembered her name – seemed lost for words.
I would not allow my life, our lives, to become a lie. I didn’t want to spend my life hiding my past and why should I? I was proud of my baby.
Barbara was going home the following afternoon; it should have been that afternoon but there had been a problem with her blood pressure or something. ‘I’m not complaining though,’ she said, after the doctor had told her. ‘It means I get another night’s rest before I go back to the mad house.’ She tried to sound chirpy but she couldn’t hide her disappointment. I could understand that; I couldn’t wait to leave either. I felt ready for what was coming.
The following morning I watched her getting ready to leave. It would be my turn the following day. Her husband came to collect her and just before she left she came over to my bed where I was sitting on top of the sheets.
‘You look after yourself, love,’ Barbara said to me and then she looked at Mary, ‘and this little one.’
After a final smile just for me she said goodbye to the others and disappeared off the ward with her baby in her arms and her husband close behind. I’ve often wondered if she changed her mind about having another baby and managed to get the daughter that she longed for.
The following morning, one of the nurses watched as I bathed Mary. I talked to her all the time, Mary that is, calling her pet names, telling her she was a good girl that sort of thing. I did it partly because I liked talking to her but mainly to cover up the fact that I was so nervous. I knew that given practice it would become second nature to me but back then I was terrified.
We’d been ready for nearly an hour when Paula arrived.
‘I’ve come to take you home,’ she said and a mad panic came over me. It must have shown in my eyes because she quickly added, ‘to your new home.’
For a second I’d thought … well you know what I’d thought, and Paula did too. She gave me an apologetic smile and rubbed my arm. Once the panic had left me I managed to smile back.
‘Ready?’ she asked and I nodded my head. She picked up my hospital bag, I picked up my baby and we left the ward.
I know this sounds a bit daft but I’d had this feeling, well more of a fear really that someone was going to come and take Mary away from me. I’d had it since the first time I’d held her and while I know the fear was irrational, it was as though I couldn’t believe that I’d be allowed to keep something so precious. Yet here I was, with her in my arms, and we were going home. I knew I was smiling like a lunatic but I didn’t care. I was ridiculously happy.
Paula didn’t mention it straight away but I wasn’t surprised when she asked. ‘Have you let your mum know that she’s a grandma?’ She said it in a matter-of-fact sort of way as we were waiting for a set of traffic lights to change to green. When I didn’t answer she looked at me. I only saw her out of the corner of my eye because I was looking at the traffic lights, willing them to change, but they didn’t so I was forced to answer her.
I said, ‘No,’ and left it at that.
She turned her attention back to the road and a few minutes later we pulled up in front of a small block of flats. They looked like three small boxes stacked on top of each other attached to more of the same. There was a patch of grass opposite them and a bit further along I could see a couple of shops. Paula came around to help me and Mary out of the car. ‘This is it,’ she said. ‘I know it’s not much to look at, but it’s a start. They’re quite nice inside.’
Welcome to Palmer’s Court, I thought to myself. Our flat was number six which meant that it was the second flat up on the left-hand side. Paula said it wasn’t ideal because of the pram and everything but there was a lift and if that wasn’t working there was a series of walkways that would get you to the ground eventually. I just thought that beggars couldn’t be choosers and I’d find a way of dealing with things.
The lift was working that first day and we stood waiting for it to arrive alongside a woman who had a bag of shopping in each hand.
‘’S’like waiting for Christmas,’ she said as she smiled at me. ‘You Susan?’ she asked.
How did she…? ‘Yes,’ I said.
The lift arrived and the doors opened. ‘Thought so,’ she made a gesture with her head that meant we should get in first so we did. I noticed that Paula was smiling. The woman pressed the button marked 2 and as the doors came together she explained. ‘Your mate Mandy’s my next-door neighbour and she said you’d be moving in today. Who’s this then?’ She smiled at Mary who was fast sleep in my arms.
‘Mary.’
‘She’s a beauty all right. What number you in?’
‘Six,’ I told her.
‘You’re on the same floor as us then,’ she said, ‘that’s good.’ The doors opened again and the woman got out. ‘Come on, love,’ she said, ‘you want to be this way.’ She stopped outside the first flat that we came to. ‘This is you,’ she said nodding towards a blue door. She moved her bags in her hand to try and get a better grip. ‘I’d shake your hand, love, but you can see how I’m fixed. I’ll give Mandy a knock and tell her you’ve arrived.’
Paula put down the bag that she’d carried from the car and unlocked the door. She opened it and we went inside to a hallway that was about ten feet long. There was a door on the left which went to a bathroom and one on the right that led into the living room. The flat’s only bedroom was through a door straight ahead.
‘You get yourself settled,’ Paula said, ‘and I’ll put the kettle on.’ She went into the living room so I guessed that the kitchen must be attached to that somehow.
The bedroom was bigger than the one that I’d had at ho … at Mum’s house. There was a double bed against the middle of one of the smaller walls and a cot to the side of it. There was a wardrobe in one of the corners and a dressing table in the one opposite. Yellow curtains hung from the window, the same shade as the linen that was on the bed and contrasting nicely with the pale blue of the carpet. I liked it.
‘I know it’s not very big,’ Paula startled me when she came up behind me.
‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I assured her. ‘In fact, it’s perfect.’ And it was.
As I stood there, in that bedroom, with Mary fast asleep in my arms I felt at peace.
Mind you, the peace was shattered a couple of seconds later by a sharp knock on the front door and a yell of ‘Let me in,’ through the letter box. We turned to see a pair of eyes looking at us through the slot. It was Mandy. Paula went to open the door and I lay Mary down in her cot. She moved around a li
ttle and then settled without even opening her eyes. I felt that she could feel the peace too.
By the time I came out of the bedroom Mandy had parked her pram in the hallway and was standing over it adjusting a blanket. When she saw me she stood up, walked towards me with her arms wide open and wrapped them around me. I wrapped my arms around her too and we stood there hugging each other.
‘You stopping for a brew?’ Paula asked and when Mandy gave her a look she added, ‘Daft question,’ and disappeared again.
‘You all right?’ Mandy asked and all I could do was nod. I didn’t trust myself to speak because I was feeling something in my chest that I couldn’t understand. It was warm but more than that, it was moving too. I was like happiness was bouncing around inside of me.
We went through to the living room and that was when I saw that the kitchen was a little room that ran off it. The wall opposite the kitchen was made up of one huge window with a glass door that opened on to a small veranda and it made the room light and airy. There was a sofa and one armchair in the room, a television and a small table with one dining chair tucked underneath it. Not a lot, but enough. The sofa had seen better days and was a bit worn on the arms but it was nothing that a throw couldn’t hide. Mandy and I sat next to each other on it and when Paula brought the tea through she sat down in the armchair. Mandy and I sat sipping our tea, looking at each other and giggling. We had formed a special bond and it was strong.
‘So,’ Paula said, ‘you settling in all right, Mandy?’
Mandy said that she was. ‘You’ll like it here,’ she said to me. ‘I know it’s not much to look at but it’s OK. And I know it’s got a reputation for being a bit rough but that’s just people from outside talking. It’s all right really. And the good thing is that the old ‘uns look after you. I mean, they’re not stupid, they know why we’re here but they don’t judge you. Well they didn’t me anyway, apart from that old bag that lives on the bottom in the corner. Miriam soon put her right.’ She stopped for breath and a mouthful of tea. ‘You met Miriam on the way up. She told me you were here. She’s a good old bird is Miriam.’
Ribbons in Her Hair Page 11