No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel

by Tracy Bloom

Matthew peered around the pile of washing that greeted him as the door opened.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m here,” she sobbed, trying to hide her puffy red face deep in the washing.

  “Look, why don’t we just put this all down here on the floor. We can go and sit down and you can tell me what happened.”

  “No,” said Katy, her head flying out of her temporary mask. “I have to get these in the wash now. They can’t go on the floor. They have to be washed now. The baby could come any minute.” She tugged the pile back away from Matthew and strode off to the kitchen.

  “You’re not in labour, are you?” asked Matthew.

  She turned in the doorway.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I’d be here if I was? These have to be washed straight away, no time to lose. I have to be ready because there will be no-one to help me now.”

  Matthew caught up with her in the kitchen trying to stuff at least two loads of washing in at once.

  “Why don’t you let me help?” he said, gently attempting to pull away from her some of the cream cotton babygros.

  “No, I can do it. I have to do it. Ben has gone. I am all alone. I have to learn to do everything on my own now.”

  She was frantically squeezing anything she could lay her hands on into the washing machine. She had just about managed it when the corner of a blanket refused to budge. She tugged and tugged but it would not move.

  “Just let go Matthew, you are not helping,” she screamed, but when she looked up, Matthew was a few yards away, leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for her to finish. She looked down at the corner of the blanket and gave it an enormous tug which almost threw her off balance.

  “Katy, you are trying to put your dressing gown into the machine whilst you’re still wearing it,” said Matthew, kneeling down beside her and stroking her back. “Please sit down and let’s just be calm for a minute shall we.”

  “Stop hindering me,” she shouted in his face. “I don’t have time for this, I told you. Nothing’s ready and I have to do it on my own.” Suddenly she stared at Matthew in horror. “Oh my god, oh my god, I haven’t even packed my hospital bag. That’s what I should be doing first.”

  Katy pulled herself up and left the washing spilling out of the machine to head back to the nursery.

  Matthew followed her and watched as she tried to get her overnight bag off the top shelf of the cupboard. He noticed the dwarf teepee which remarkably was still standing in the middle of the room. He contemplated asking what had happened but thought better of it. He walked up behind her and reached over the top of her head to pull down the bag.

  “Thanks,” she puffed. “I’ll have everything down low soon so I won’t need anyone to get things down for me.” She strode off again, this time to the bathroom. He thought he might go and wait in the living room until this whirlwind had died down but he heard a crash and decided he had better continue his shadowing.

  “It’s all right; it’s all right, just go away. Leave me alone. It’s just some bubble bath broken in the bath. I’ll wash it away later. Just leave, Matthew, please.”

  Katy was throwing every bottle of fancy fragrance she owned into her hospital bag. Matthew looked around and remembered with a sharp pang his feelings in this room all those months ago on the night of the reunion. It had seemed like Katy’s calm little oasis that he was intruding on. It had an exotic air just as Katy had had on that fateful night when he had dared to behave as a free man. Who would have thought that the next time he was in this room it would be with a mad woman throwing bottles everywhere?

  Katy pushed past him roughly. Dejectedly he followed her into the bedroom, not quite sure of his next move. She was now elbow deep in a chest of drawers throwing every item onto the floor.

  “I bloody didn’t did I? God I am absolute crap. The one thing I had to get and I didn’t. I am useless and not fit to be a mother. I’ll just have to go now. Before the shops shut, before it’s too late.”

  She opened the wardrobe, pulled out some boots, then sat on the bed attempting to put them on despite the fact she was still in her in her pyjamas and laces are damn near impossible to tie at nearly nine months pregnant.

  Matthew knelt down on the floor in front of her and gently lifted her head. “Where are you going?” he said as calmly as he could.

  “I have to go and get a nightdress to give birth in and it has to have buttons down the front because that’s what Joan said at the class because then you can hold the baby to your skin without having to take anything off and you are supposed to hold your baby to your skin because that helps you bond straight away and I have to bond straight away you see because if I don’t who will, because it will be just me. Only me.”

  The tide of tears returned and she fell into Matthew’s arms as the sobbing racked her body. They sat on the edge of her bed as he rocked her slowly and she buried her head in his monogrammed ironed handkerchief.

  They didn’t speak for a good half hour, until Katy was completely spent. She sat twisting his sodden handkerchief in her hands in her lap, sniffing occasionally, whilst he gently rubbed her back.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” asked Matthew when he considered the tears to have completely dried up. Katy tried to start to tell him but was hit by yet another wave of despair rendering her unable to speak. She threw herself on the bed and pounded the pillows.

  “I am shit, so shit,” came a muffled howl. “What have I done? I don’t deserve anyone, I have made such a mess of things,” she said finally raising her head.

  “So has he left you?” asked Matthew.

  “Yes, of course he has. Wouldn’t you? He knows everything Matthew. He knows you could be the father. Why did you tell him we slept together?” she said angrily. “Why Matthew? He had to know. I realise that now. He made me realise that but I should have told him not you. What right did you have to tell him? You bastard. You absolute bastard.”

  She started beating his chest with all her strength until he managed to catch her wrists in his hands.

  “I’m sorry, really I am. I was drunk and I was upset with Alison for treating me like a child in front of everyone, telling me off over the vodka. Then Ben came into the toilets and he was taunting me, telling me that you would never look twice at me now because I was too boring, so… so I couldn’t help myself. I had to go and put him straight didn’t I? I was stupid and I was wrong. I’m sorry Katy, really I am.”

  She went limp and buried her head in her hands.

  “You know what, it doesn’t really matter. He would have found out somehow. How on earth I could have thought that I could keep a secret like that I don’t know. I made my bed and now I have got to lie in it. It’s my problem.”

  “No, it’s not just your problem, it’s mine as well,” he said, putting his arm around her and putting one hand over hers. “We started this, both of us. I’m not going to leave you to cope with this on your own. I’ll figure something out. I’ll take care of you Katy, somehow. I let you down all those years ago and I am not going to do it again. There has to be a way. You are not going to do this on your own.”

  Silent tears were now pouring down Katy’s face as she looked up at Matthew.

  “But you have a wife and twins on the way.”

  “Let me worry about them. You could be having my baby Katy. I’m not going to walk away from that. You can’t make me. I’ll look after you, I promise.”

  He bent to give her a peck on her hot wet cheek which to his alarm appeared to make her silent tears flow even faster.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, quietly apologising for her lack of control over her emotions.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said, bending forward again and this time placing his lips firmly over hers. She resisted for a moment then gave in to the re-assuring warmth of his mouth. His hands continued to rotate on her back making her feel drowsy and deliciously sleepy. Suddenly an image of Ben’s face popped into her head out of nowhere and sh
e sprang back as if she had been struck by an electric shock.

  “Stop. Stop now. Get out. What am I doing? Oh my god have I not destroyed enough today?” She leapt up and ran out of the room, screaming at Matthew to get out. She had the flat door open by the time he stumbled into the hall.

  “Just go. Go now. Leave me alone.”

  “Katy, please, just…”

  “Go now,” she screeched.

  “But Katy.”

  “Now!” she screamed.

  Chapter 19

  Katy half-opened one eye to find herself lying on her couch surrounded by darkness apart from the flickering silent TV screen. Where had everyone gone? Why was it so quiet and why was it dark? It hadn’t been this quiet the last time she was conscious, she was sure.

  Then it happened. She felt her body start to tense all on its own without her mind telling it to. Then the tension wasn’t just mildly irritating, it was all-consuming, like someone was inside her with a million cattle prods. The prods roamed for a few seconds around the insides of her belly, leaving no patch untouched before retreating as quickly as they had emerged.

  “Bloody hell, what was that?” she cried out, clutching her belly, the pain causing her to pant. Feeling the tense swollen globe still encased in her pyjamas, the events of the day came flooding back as well as the dawning realisation that she may well have just experienced a contraction. She waited for the panting to calm down before easing herself upright and turning the TV off, plunging her into bleak darkness.

  She scrabbled for the table lamp at the end of the sofa, feeling absolutely washed out. She didn’t have the energy to go into labour. Not after the day she’d had. It was probably just the baby moving. Or one of those pretend contraction things. Hicks or something. She sat very still, willing the pain not to return. A few minutes passed and all appeared to be normal.

  Bath, she thought. Bath then bed, then sleep, then tomorrow things may seem less dire than today. Surely she had well and truly hit rock bottom.

  She went to move but just as she did the cattle prods hit her again causing her to double up and cry out just like an old cow.

  She rocked herself and breathed as best she could in between the pained mooing. When it finally subsided she sat down heavily on the floor in shock.

  Not now. Please not now. I can’t do it now. I’m not ready. My head isn’t ready, she said to herself.

  “Dear God. I know I only talk to you when I want something, or at Christmas when I hear small children singing Away in a Manger and it makes me cry. But this time I’m really desperate. I promise if you help me I will talk to you every day and I will put money into those little envelopes old ladies leave rather than throwing them in the bin. I will do loads of other good things as well I promise, but please God give me a break. Even if it is just until tomorrow, please let it not be now,” said Katy. She was on her knees with her hands pressed firmly together, eyes squeezed tightly shut when the next contraction came.

  “So you want to teach me a lesson, is that it? For getting myself into this in the first place. Well, I’m telling you, you’ll be sorry, you leave me with no option,” she huffed.

  Katy pulled herself up and staggered out to the hallway, picked up the phone and dialled.

  “This had better be good; you have no idea the wonder I have put on ice to pick up the phone to you,”

  “Daniel,” she said through gritted teeth. “Get here now. You are about to witness the wonder of childbirth. I’m in labour.” She slammed down the phone, took the front door off the latch and waddled into the bathroom.

  She was aware that there was some substantial leakage going on somewhere below. Had her waters broken or was it normal to wet yourself in panic when you first have a contraction? She desperately tried to remember what Joan had said in the classes. All that kept coming back was that you may have contractions for a while before it is time to go into hospital. She sat with her head in her hands on the toilet, trying to summon up the energy to get up and get changed before the next contraction took its toll. She hobbled back into her bedroom, managed somehow to get herself into another pair of pyjamas and onto the bed before the next one overtook her.

  She had no idea how many times the cattle prods returned by the time she heard a loud knock at the door.

  “It’s open,” she shouted.

  There was a pause followed by a louder more insistent knock.

  “Katy, it’s me, I have hot towels and tequila. Let me in,” came Daniel’s voice.

  “It’s open,” she shouted even louder.

  Another pause.

  The knock came back again.

  “Katy, are you alright?”

  “For god’s sake just open the bloody door,” she screamed.

  “Can I help dear?” she heard her neighbour say to Daniel out on the landing.

  “Yes, it’s Katy. She rang to say she’d gone into labour and now she’s not answering. Do you know if she left already?”

  “Not recently. It’s been dead quiet. Mind you there’s been men coming and going all day. Making a right racket they have, shouting and screaming. I said to my Dave at one point that he should come over and see what’s happening, what with her condition and everything. But he’s bloody useless. Can’t get his arse off the sofa for love nor money. Do you want me to go and knock on our living room wall? It connects to her bedroom and the walls are like paper. We have to turn our telly up some nights, if you know what I mean.”

  “Really,” replied Daniel. “Have you had to do that recently then?”

  The door flew open.

  “The door was unlocked you useless poof. Get in here and do something. Good night Mrs. Jenkins.”

  Daniel ran like a startled rabbit into the apartment and the door slammed shut behind him.

  “Useless poof? Useless poof? Katy, I normally find your insults entertaining but please use a little creativity. The obvious is so beneath you.”

  Katy was holding onto Daniel’s shoulders and puffing like a forty-a-day smoker having just run up the stairs.

  “What’s with the white suit?” she finally managed to puff out.

  “You mean my labour partner outfit. Well I figured white was really the only option given the medical nature of the event. But we must be careful to not get baby gunk on it as I need to wear it again to Alan and Chris’s civil ceremony next week.”

  She gave a low guttural growl.

  “Is that really necessary? I have left a cowboy Strip-O-Gram I met last night at Steve’s birthday bash, gagging for it at home, so stop being so mean to me.”

  “It’s coming,” she grunted.

  “It was but you put a stop to that darling.”

  “Not you stupid, a contraction it’s coming just about… now.”

  She howled. Then swore. Then howled a lot more.

  “Oh my god, what is that thing doing to you,” said Daniel, who looked petrified. “Shit Katy, is this really normal? Jesus Christ, I am not supposed to be doing this. I have made a lifestyle choice that entitles me to have nothing to do with childbirth. What the hell am I doing here?”

  “Just help me,” said Katy weakly. “Help me back to bed and then just hold my hand or something.”

  “Back to bed. Are you mad? We are going to the hospital now. I can’t be alone with you in this state. You need to be near people with knives and things, for your own safety.”

  “No Daniel. The contractions aren’t close enough together yet. I need to wait a bit longer. Call the hospital and tell them I’ve started and that we’ll call them when the contractions are five minutes apart.”

  “OK, OK,” said Daniel, who was already breathing as fast as Katy.

  Daniel took Katy’s arm and started to lead her back to the bedroom.

  “Don’t do that thing again just yet, will you? You know, the wailing thing,” asked Daniel.

  “I’ll try,” she said, plopping back down on the bed. “The number is by the bed in the front of that book. You have to ask for the labou
r ward.”

  He picked up the phone and dialled with his back to Katy, hoping that if he ignored her she wouldn’t start making horrible noises again.

  “Labour ward and be quick,” he barked.

  Katy could vaguely hear the gentle ring at the other end as Daniel was put through.

  “They’re not picking up. What are we going to do? Let’s just go down there Katy, please. I can get you there really quick,” said Daniel.

  “Labour ward,” said a woman’s voice on the end of the phone.

  “Christ, you are there are you? Right, I have a woman here screaming blue murder. Tell me what to do.”

  “Is she in labour?”

  “No, she’s in Timbuktu. Of course she’s bloody well in labour, why else would I be talking to you?”

  “Hey now, just calm down. I know it can be very frightening but you need to be calm for your wife now. You getting upset will not help.”

  “She is not my wife,” said Daniel angrily.

  “I am sorry sir, girlfriend.”

  “She is not my girlfriend. I have more sense. Now please tell me what to do.”

  “How far apart are her contractions?”

  “How should I know? I just got here and she is screaming so hard I can’t even hear myself think.”

  “About twenty minutes,” interrupted Katy.

  “She says twenty minutes. That’s close enough right? I’ll bring her straight in.”

  “Just hang on one second. Ask her if her waters have broken.”

  “Some mucussy discharge,” muttered Katy, bracing herself as the next contraction approached.

  Daniel leaned over and held the receiver to Katy’s mouth.

  “I love you Katy but there ain’t no way on this planet those words are ever gonna pass these lips. Say it again.”

  He pulled the receiver back as soon as Katy had explained what had been going on in the wet stuff department.

  “She gave you the right answer, right? I’ll get her in the car pronto, shall I?”

  “To be honest, home is where she should be at the moment. Where she’s most comfortable. She’s only in the very early stages of labour and if you bring her in we’ll probably send her straight home again. She is definitely in the right place.”