The Man I Didn't Marry

by Anna Bell

  I’ve stood for a couple of songs and done the best dance moves I can. I’m actually having more fun than I ever thought I would – but sitting in a field dancing, chatting and singing our lungs out for three hours has exhausted me.

  ‘You’re yawning, again,’ says Max.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ I say hurriedly. ‘Everyone’s having a really good time and I don’t want to be the one that flakes out.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get you back to the tent. You can have a disco nap. Sasha looks tired too.’

  ‘I always liked the sound of disco naps, although I will be most disappointed if I don’t get to fall asleep to the sounds of Earth, Wind and Fire.’

  Max shakes his head at me.

  ‘We’re going to head back to the tent,’ he says to Owen.

  ‘OK, we’ll see you there in a bit,’ he says.

  ‘Or we could go with them,’ says Claire, grabbing his hands and doing some very unsubtle eyebrow wiggling.

  ‘Oh, we could,’ says Owen.

  ‘Great,’ I say, putting on my best fake smile.

  ‘How about you guys?’ I say to Rach and Gaby.

  ‘We’re going to go and take a look at the up-and-coming stage,’ says Rach, taking Gaby’s hand. ‘Come find us after.’

  ‘Cool,’ I say, ‘we’ll look for the sombreros.’

  They head off towards the other stage and we go back towards the campsite. I wish that Owen and Claire were going with them. They’ve barely been able to keep their hands off each other since we got here and now they’re heading back to the tent, which is right next to ours. It would be cringy overhearing anything in normal circumstances but the fact that we haven’t even kissed since Max lost his memory makes it worse.

  The two of us and Sasha fall back a little and I almost hope that Owen and Claire’s quickie is over before we get there.

  ‘How are you finding it so far without the booze?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s all right, actually. It’s nice not having to go for a wee every few minutes and I reckon I’m saving a fortune.’

  ‘Yes, there is that. It’s cheap being sober.’

  He’s carrying Sasha in his arms and she’s asleep by the time we make it back to our camp. There’s a lot of giggling coming from Owen and Claire’s tent – we definitely hadn’t thought that through when we pitched them so close together. Max pops Sasha down on her little air mattress.

  ‘I’m really tired,’ I say loudly, doing a big theatrical yawn in the hope that it might make the others realise how easily sound travels. But they’re obviously too in the moment to hear because the noises continue and the shadows of their guy ropes, illuminated on the inside of our tent, start to shake.

  Max and I look at each other.

  ‘Disco nap,’ he says again. ‘Shall I put on the music?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ I say. I wriggle onto the airbed that all the forums said to half inflate – they were bloody right; this is the most comfortable I’ve been in a long, long time. ‘Ring my Bell’ starts chiming away and it almost makes me think it’s the best lullaby of all time.

  I wake up and the tent is pitch-black and Max’s phone is no longer playing disco tunes. There’s enough illumination from the floodlights in the campsite to see that Sasha’s still fast asleep. Behind me I can feel Max nestled up against me. From the sound of the little snuffly, half-snore, half-heavy breathing noise he’s making, I’m guessing he’s fast asleep. It’s so nice being close to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. I’m even quite enjoying the light snoring as I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed it with us sleeping apart. I don’t want to move a muscle as I don’t want to disturb him.

  I’m wondering what time it is when I notice the pain in my bladder. It’s the kind of pain that lets me know I have to go right now. I don’t even think I can make it to the toilets.

  I fumble in my handbag for my plastic urinal and I’m considering opening the tent and having a sneaky pee outside but there’s the sound of people chatting and giggling all around.

  I’m starting to get a bit of a sweat on in panic and it’s taking what very little pelvic floor I have left to hold everything in and, in a moment of desperation, I swipe Judy’s travel kettle.

  ‘Sodding hell,’ I mutter as I try to roll down the over-the-bump waistband part of my shorts to a stage where I can pull my knickers down enough to get the urinal into position. The website said it was really easy to use, but in hindsight I should have done a test run at home. I just need to find the right position. Which is easier said than done when you’re very pregnant and in a goddamn tent.

  ‘Sodding, sodding hell,’ I say, as I hope I’ve got it in the right place, and I start weeing. A wave of utter relief hits me as I hear the tinkle hitting off the metal kettle. That is until I hear Max beginning to stir.

  ‘What is it?’ he says with a murmur.

  ‘Ah, nothing,’ I say, wishing that my race-horse pee would stop.

  ‘What’s that noise, is it rain?’

  ‘Yes, just rain,’ I say, beginning to worry that the kettle might not be big enough; this wee is showing no signs of stopping. ‘Go back to sleep.’

  I finally finish and sigh with relief. I’m just trying to find some loo roll to wipe myself when Max’s head torch shines and I freeze. The whole idea of the portable female urinal is that you’re supposed to use it without the need to get undressed, but the makers hadn’t really taken into consideration over-the-bump shorts, which I’d unrolled and shoved down to somewhere around my knees, which means that my pants are now fully illuminated in Max’s torch beam. And whilst I should be pleased that I’m not mooning him, I think that would have been preferable – for us both – to him seeing me in my giant pants. And it’s not even like they’re functional tummy-hugging Spanx or anything; they are in fact, floral, high-waisted, full briefs bought in a multipack from a supermarket. They are reminiscent of something that you’d have found on my nan’s washing line.

  ‘Um, Ellie…’ says Max.

  ‘You know, I’m pregnant and if it’s not acceptable to wear granny pants now then when the hell is it?’ I say, mortified.

  ‘Um, I think the pants are the least of your worries. I think the pee you just did is leaking out of the kettle spout.’

  ‘Oh shit,’ I say, scrambling towards the tent door.

  Max climbs over too and wrangles with the zip as I hastily pour it out outside our tent.

  ‘Hmm, I probably didn’t want to tip that just outside. I’m really sorry,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ve peed in worse places,’ he says, laughing. ‘Bloody hell, though, I thought it was a flood.’

  I whack him on the arm. He does a deep belly laugh that’s reserved for when I’ve done something particularly silly. I always love the way it takes over his whole body, making him shake.

  ‘And those pants, they are, um… Did Nora Batty lose them?’

  ‘Hey, you usually find them sexy,’ I lie. ‘And sssh, you’ll wake Sasha. It looks like she’s out for the count.’

  I hear footsteps outside our tent.

  ‘Great, you guys are still up,’ says Claire.

  ‘Hang on a second,’ I say, taking a moment to pull up my shorts before I unzip the door further.

  ‘You were well out of it earlier. You missed Jess Glynne, she was awesome,’ says Claire.

  ‘Is it that late?’ I say, patting round for my phone.

  ‘It’s eleven thirty,’ says Claire.

  ‘Bugger. So much for our disco nap.’

  ‘At least you’re pregnant,’ says Max. ‘I don’t know what my excuse is.’

  ‘Oh, great, the kettle’s handy. Shall I make us a brew?’

  ‘No,’ Max and I shout and he dives to get it, knocking Claire’s hand out of the way.

  ‘We’re running out of tea bags and poor Ellie here, it’s her only comfort.’

  ‘Oh, of course, I’ve got some Strongbow in the tent. I’ll drink that instead.’

  ‘All rig
ht,’ says Owen, walking up and stepping right into the puddle of wee. ‘I don’t think I want to know why my foot’s wet, do I?’

  Max shakes his head and I hang mine in shame as Owen hobbles off to his tent to sort himself out.

  ‘I take it you two probably aren’t up for a nightcap at ours,’ says Claire. ‘Owen just texted Gaby and Rach and they’re on their way back to have one.’

  ‘Probably not. I want to make sure I don’t fall asleep tomorrow night. I wouldn’t want to miss Pilot Dawn or wake up Sasha.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she says, and she follows Owen back to their tent.

  Alone again, Max and I both stare at the offending kettle.

  ‘I’ll wash it tomorrow morning,’ says Max.

  ‘I think that we should hide it in a bag and take it home to wash in the dishwasher. You brought a saucepan, right? We can use that instead.’

  ‘Much better plan. Are you tired?’

  ‘A little, but to tell you the truth I’m just really comfortable on that air mattress; it’s like it’s hugging my bump.’

  ‘Then lie back down.’

  ‘Will you tell me a bedtime story?’

  ‘Is that something I’d usually do?’

  ‘Absolutely, you usually tell me silly stories about you and Rach as kids,’ I say, crossing my fingers behind my back at the lie. Those are usually the stories he tells Sasha.

  ‘OK,’ he says, lying down on his airbed facing me and propping himself up on his elbow. ‘Once upon a time there were two children. A wonderful, good-looking little boy and a fussy, feisty little girl…’

  I close my eyes and try and concentrate on his words, but really I’m just enjoying lying next to my husband – something I’d always taken for granted, but now it means the world to me.

  Chapter 16

  I’m in a lovely deep sleep when I hear Sasha start to stir and it pulls me out of my dream. There’s no way of telling what time it is, thanks to the floodlights, and as I scramble off the air mattress, I check my phone. 5.45 a.m. Bloody hell. I guess that’s what happens when you go for a disco nap at 5 p.m. and sleep the whole night. Max is still fast asleep, emitting his little puff-puff snores and I’m worried we’ll wake him. I pop Sasha’s fleece on over her pyjamas and slip on her shoes, before I do the same, and then I grab her bottle out of the cooler box and some croissants.

  It’s still pretty dark out but there’s a tiny hint of the sun starting to rise and I can see people walking up the hill behind the campsite, presumably to watch it.

  ‘Come on, sweetie, do you fancy a little walk?’

  ‘Walk, yeah,’ she says, or at least that’s what it sounds like to me.

  We’re not far from the tents when Rach runs up to us.

  ‘Hey, I thought I heard voices,’ she says.

  ‘Sorry, did we wake you?’

  ‘No, I’ve been awake for a while. Think I drank way too many sugary drinks last night.’

  Sasha loops her hand through Rach’s and the two of us swing and walk her.

  ‘No prizes for guessing who got you up so early.’

  ‘None at all,’ I laugh.

  The hill starts to rise quite steeply and we move up it mostly in silence.

  ‘Are you going to be OK?’ asks Rach.

  ‘Yeah, fine, you might just have to take Sasha when it’s steeper.’

  We eventually get to the top and I’m huffing and puffing, but we’re rewarded with a beautiful sunrise.

  ‘Oh my,’ I gasp.

  ‘Wow, that was worth getting up the hill for,’ says Rach.

  ‘Definitely.’

  We take a seat on the ground and I pull the bottle out of my fleece. Sasha curls up in my lap and takes her milk.

  ‘Hey, look at that guy,’ says Rach, pointing at a man creeping out of a tent at the campsite and then spinning round trying to get his bearings.

  ‘Classic walk of shame. He’s only got one shoe on.’

  There are a few people doing mad dashes to the toilets – they obviously didn’t have a kettle to hand – and a few that seem to be still up from the night before. There are a few bleary-eyed parents up here with their children running around, full of almost Christmas Day levels of excitement.

  ‘I’m so glad you changed your mind to come,’ says Rach, taking one of the croissants I’ve offered her.

  ‘Me too. It’s been a lot of fun so far.’

  ‘Despite the fact that you slept through most of it,’ she says.

  ‘Yeah, despite that. I think it’s actually been good for Max and me to get away. He seems a lot more relaxed and like he’s enjoying himself. We’ve spent so much of the past two weeks with me telling him about his life; it’s nice that he’s actually getting to live it with us.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way,’ she says, in between mouthfuls. ‘I still can’t get my head around it. It’s all Gaby and I talk about. She’s explained the medical stuff to me a million times but I still don’t get how all his memories are there still and he just can’t access them.’

  ‘I know, it’s so weird.’

  ‘But you seem better than the last time I saw you. He seems different with you now. I take it that recreating dates got better after the beer pong disaster?’

  Even before the attempted mini-golf/beer pong night, Rach had tried to convince me that it wasn’t a good idea and that I should focus on finding the cause of his memory loss instead.

  ‘They did.’ I shift Sasha into a more comfortable position. ‘Although, obviously, he hasn’t fallen head over heels in love with me again, but he’s at least accepted that he’s a dad and we’re getting on better.’

  ‘That’s good – you couldn’t have expected him to fall in love with you overnight.’

  ‘Couldn’t I?’

  ‘No, in fact I’d be very worried if he just fell right back into a relationship with you.’

  I sigh. She’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

  The sun is properly starting to rise now and the sky is exploding in colour.

  ‘So, it’s exciting that you and Gaby are thinking of having a baby,’ I say.

  Rach’s smile disappears.

  ‘She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.’

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything… but was that what you were going to talk to me about, that day when we were having coffee in the woods?’

  Rach nods slowly.

  ‘Oh Rach, I’m so sorry, I’d forgotten all about it until Gaby let it slip yesterday and I put two and two together.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, it’s fine; you’ve got enough on your plate at the moment.’

  ‘I feel awful, though. Do you still want to talk about it?’

  ‘I guess,’ she says, but she doesn’t say anything.

  We sit watching the sky for a while until she’s ready to speak.

  ‘Gaby wants to have a baby,’ she says eventually.

  ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’ I say, trying to gauge how she feels about it. ‘I thought you wanted that too?’

  ‘I did, I mean I do.’

  ‘Is it a timing thing?’

  ‘No, I’m ready,’ she says decisively. ‘It’s just complicated. And I know for a lot of people having a baby is complicated and people have fertility issues, but for us, it’s complicated before we even get to that stage.’ She paused.

  ‘When you and Max wanted a baby, you just needed to – well, you know what you needed to do. But for me and Gaby there are so many decisions to make. Would we use a sperm bank or would we ask someone we know? Which one of us would carry the baby? Should we get married to give us more equal rights to the child?’

  After she rattles off the list she exhales loudly.

  ‘Oh, I guess I never thought of any of that,’ I say, stunned, realising how easy we’d had it.

  ‘Gaby sat me down and explained it all to me so matter-of-factly, as she’s probably done with countless patients over the years, and I started to panic… This is going to
sound stupid.’

  ‘Nothing ever sounds as stupid as you think it does.’ I’m reminded of my chat with Owen.

  ‘I’m terrified that we’ll make the wrong decision. What if we got an anonymous sperm donor and then the baby grew up to be a total arsehole because the sperm donor was? Or what if we decided to use someone we knew only for them to start demanding custody rights later down the line?

  ‘But Gaby doesn’t have any of these worries; she’s all calm and unfazed by it all, probably because she knows more about it from her job. When I try to bring up these fears she thinks it’s because I don’t want a baby.’

  ‘And are you sure you do?’

  I watch her watching Sasha as she and another little boy about her age are popping bubbles that his mum is blowing.

  ‘Yeah, I really do. But sometimes the whole process overwhelms me and I get scared. I mean, what if our relationship isn’t strong enough to go through all this?’

  ‘Do you want to know what I think?’

  ‘Yes,’ she says, wrinkling her face like she’s bracing herself.

  ‘I think you should talk to Gaby. Tell her exactly what you just told me. Explain to her that she’s going to have to understand that you don’t know as much as her and you’re going to have to spend more time talking through the options and finding out about them.

  ‘But the main thing is that you’ve got to reassure Gaby that this is what you want. It’s about focusing on the baby at the end of whatever journey you take to get there.’

  She exhales deeply.

  ‘I guess I can do that,’ she says. ‘I actually feel relieved having told you all this.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad. You know, Rach, you can always talk to me, don’t you?’

  ‘I know,’ she says, nodding. ‘That goes for you too. I’m here for you, OK?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  ‘Just as long as it’s not about you and Max getting it on – there’s no way I want to hear about your role-play shenanigans.’

  ‘We do not do—’

  ‘La-la-la,’ says Rach, putting her fingers in her ears. ‘I’m not listening.’

  I give her a gentle shove and start laughing.