Be My Baby

by A. L. Michael

  ‘Oh, so let’s get together so we can argue legitimately?’ Mollie snorted.

  ‘Okay, kiss to seal the deal?’ Jamie grinned boyishly, completely breaking the tension, and Mollie fought a smile.

  ‘You are...’

  ‘Incorrigible? Vibrant? Unique?’ he offered, swaying her a little more, spinning her out before she returned to him.

  ‘Annoying,’ she stuck out her chin, but as he pulled her close, she took a little comfort in his warmth, in feeling him hold her.

  ‘I am not a coward,’ Mollie said simply, ‘I’m a mother, a business owner, a start-up, a hard worker, a good friend, and a fucking warrior queen. I am strong and powerful and that’s what I’m teaching our daughter to be.’

  ‘But she could teach you a few things too,’ he nestled closer, his lips resting against her hairline. ‘About how to be vulnerable, take a chance on people, believe the best in them.’

  ‘Jay,’ Mollie took a breath, speaking into his neck as they swayed, ‘you don’t know how bad I got. I was destroyed, okay? I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. I got so malnourished I nearly lost Ez. It was only my mum forcing me to eat, getting on at me every day, that changed anything. I... I lost myself, and I almost lost our daughter because I felt like a vibrating ball of hurt. All spiky edges and broken glass. I will not put her at risk again. I can’t make myself vulnerable.’

  Jamie stilled, saying nothing, simply gathering her up and holding her close, his arms tight around her.

  ‘I’m so sorry Molls,’ he whispered, ‘I want to make it better. Please let me make it better.’

  Mollie pulled back and smiled at him, patting his cheek gently.

  ‘It’s not all your responsibility. Considering what our mothers did, I don’t think I’ll ever believe the best in people again,’ Mollie said simply, shrugging. Jamie blinked.

  ‘Our mothers?’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Mollie cleared her throat, ‘I meant to tell you, but with everything going on...’ She took a deep breath, ‘It wasn’t just my mum conspiring to keep us apart. Your mum paid her to do it.’

  Jamie didn’t react, just nodded for her to continue, but she could see a vein in his neck start to pulse, and he was standing ramrod straight on the dancefloor, not moving.

  ‘She paid my mum to get me to have an abortion. The money would cover my uni expenses, apparently. But Mum, as much of a bitch as she is, couldn’t encourage me to get an abortion without being a hypocrite, so she did the next best thing – making you think I’d lost the baby, so you’d go off to uni without a backwards glance, just like your mother wanted.’

  ‘Where does Ruby fit into this?’

  ‘I have no idea. Maybe she thought she was helping? Maybe her cut of the money funded her trip down to London?’ Mollie shrugged.

  Jamie blinked at her, ‘How are you standing there telling me this without screaming? Why aren’t you falling apart, demanding my mother’s head on a plate? This was our life, Mollie, this was our life they took away from us. We could have had a chance.’

  ‘Because I’m a fucking warrior queen, remember?’ Mollie shrugged sadly, patting his arm, ‘And because I have come to the sad conclusion that people are selfish and awful, and will always let you down or manipulate you.’

  Jamie shook his head, capturing her hand and squeezing it briefly before letting go. ‘That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. And now I’ve got to go.’

  He kissed her cheek, and was gone, leaving Mollie standing in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by couples, wondering why she didn’t feel very much like a warrior at all.

  ***

  Her mother threw a plate of toast down next to her on the sofa.

  ‘Eat.’

  ‘Not hungry,’ Mollie shrugged, her eyes never wavering from the television. Not that she was watching it, it just filled in as background noise.

  ‘You need to eat,’ Linda said firmly.

  ‘You never gave a crap about what I ate when I was a kid. Why bother now?’ Mollie’s voice was emotionless, but Linda sat down beside her.

  ‘I’m just tired,’ Mollie added, shrugging off the arm her mother placed on her shoulder.

  ‘You’re tired because you’re not eating, idiot. You’ve got no fucking energy – how are you meant to grow a baby without eating? You’re underweight, you’re not moving, getting fresh air or sunlight. You collapsed last week and thought I wouldn’t notice.’

  ‘You smoked and drank through your pregnancy so don’t act all freaking holier than thou about it – it’s lucky I wasn’t brain damaged, the amount of stupid shit you did when you were pregnant.’

  Linda’s eyes glowered, ‘Yeah, and on the day you arrived I had a panic attack that I’d fucked up your life before you’d even started it. And even me, worst mum in the fucking world, remembered to EAT so her baby could grow. Get the picture?’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  Linda grabbed Mollie’s face and turned her chin towards her, holding tight.

  ‘You listen to me girl – you don’t care, then we head down to the clinic and we get rid of the baby. There’s no point bringing one more poor unwanted bastard into this world. If you only wanted to have this baby so you could be with him, then you’ve got a lot on your conscience. This baby is the only part of him you get to have, so you either start looking after yourself, or we go down to the clinic and get this sorted. Sort your head out.’

  Linda walked from the room, and Mollie could hear the click of her lighter and the squeak of the door in the kitchen as her mother stepped outside.

  She picked up the piece of toast and took one small bite. And then another.

  ***

  ‘Well, my head feels like someone placed a bunch of marbles in it.’ Evie croaked that morning.

  ‘Bowling balls,’ Mollie corrected, making the tea. ‘You partied hard last night.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Evie threw herself on the sofa and curled up in the foetal position, polka dot blanket wrapped around her.

  ‘Good, I didn’t drink as much as you!’ Mollie teased, bringing the cups over and pulling a pack of digestives from her dressing gown pocket.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t mean physically. I mean, you know, emotionally and stuff?’ Evie frowned, reaching for the biscuits from within her blanket cocoon.

  Mollie shrugged, ‘I’m fine. It’s Jamie who seemed to be in shock.’

  ‘Because his mother paid your mum to make you get an abortion, then lied about it, then made him think you’d lost the baby? Well, psshaw, why on earth would he be shocked by that?’ Evie rolled her eyes.

  Mollie shrugged, ‘He can be shocked, I’m not. My mum would do anything for money, and his mum would do anything to keep him on the path she wanted. And Ruby would do whatever the hell she wanted. That’s what people do. They lie to create the realities they want.’

  Evie frowned, ‘Hun–’

  ‘No, I’m tired of having to be the plucky optimist. You know how crappy people can be, we’ve all had more than enough trauma and bullshit from our crappy parents and I’m tired of people thinking I can take it all and still shit rainbows and sunshine. No more. People are shitty, and that’s okay,’ Mollie turned on the TV, crossed her arms defiantly and pursed her lips.

  ‘Well, as long as you’re happy.’

  ‘I’m not, that’s the point!’

  Evie snorted, ‘Do you think maybe missing out on your teenage years to have Esme is creating a weird regression thing? Do you feel a desperate need to smoke a roll up, drink too much Red Bull and get your belly button pierced?’

  Mollie rolled her eyes, ‘Thankfully no. But I feel a need to live my life to the fullest. Which means dating people who are grown ups, but not obnoxious Camden daddies, and making sure the business is a success, and ensuring Esme is happy.’

  ‘And what do you do about running a studio that your dead friend gave you? The dead friend you’re angry at, but can’t do anything about, because she is so unhelpfully dead?’

  M
ollie shrugged, ‘Live a conflicted and difficult life until I die, I guess.’

  Evie blinked, ‘I feel like we’ve pulled a freaky Friday and I don’t like it!’

  Mollie grinned, ‘You have bowling balls in your head, you don’t like anything!’

  Later that afternoon, Mollie and Esme went for a walk around Regent’s Park, wrapped up warmly against the breeze, their scarves stuffed into their coats. Mollie took the same joy as her daughter in feeling the crunch of the golden leaves beneath her feet, kicking them as they walked along.

  The park looked elegant and perfect, quiet, with people in beanies and parkas grinning in the brief bout of sunlight.

  ‘Shall we make some hot chocolate when we get in tonight?’ she asked her daughter, watching in delight as a sausage dog walked along, wearing a tiny red knitted jumper.

  Esme turned to her and stopped walking. ‘Mother, I think we need to have a frank conversation.’

  ‘Who’s Frank?’ Mollie asked, smiling.

  Esme’s face was grave, she stared up at her mother with unimpressed wide eyes. ‘Mum.’

  Mollie sighed deeply, diverting them to a bench. ‘Okay, talk to me.’

  ‘What are we going to do about Dad?’

  ‘What about Dad exactly?’

  Esme huffed, ‘How do we make him stay?’

  Mollie watched her daughter’s movements, her unyielding defiance as she sat next to her mother and demanded an answer, a solution.

  Mollie put an arm around her, ‘Baby, we can’t make him stay. He has to choose to do that.’

  ‘Okay, so how do we make him choose to do that?’

  Mollie snorted, shaking her head.

  ‘Your dad has made a commitment to his job. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, or want to be with you, it just means he made a promise he has to keep. He’s keeping us all safe, he’s a hero, in some ways – isn’t that special?’

  Esme wrinkled her nose in distaste, ‘I don’t think it’s special at all. I don’t want him to be a hero. I want him to be my dad.’

  ‘He’ll always be your dad.’

  Esme stood up, throwing her hands up in frustration, ‘Mum, you don’t understand what I’m saying! He would stay if you asked him!’ She turned to stand before her like a prosecutor arguing with a judge.

  ‘He wouldn’t, and I can’t do that,’ Mollie shook her head.

  ‘He would! He loves you! He would stay if you asked. And if he stays, he won’t get hurt,’ Esme widened her eyes and grabbed Mollie’s hand, ‘Please Mum. Please make him stay.’

  ‘I can’t do that baby, it’s not fair to him. And he doesn’t love me, not like that. Not enough to give up his life. His job is his life.’

  Esme threw her head back and pulled at her hair, ‘We’re his life Mum, he told me so! He just wants you to love him back and you don’t and that’s not nice, so you should really try hard to love him back, because he’s lovely, isn’t he? Dad’s lovely and very loveable, so you should try really hard.’

  Mollie looked at her daughter and took a deep breath, looking up to stop the tears from falling.

  ‘He’s very loveable, yes.’

  ‘So you’ll talk to him?’

  ‘Darling, it’s complicated–’

  ‘It’s NOT Mum, it’s NOT complicated at all. If you love people then you want them not to go away. Do you want him to go away again?’

  ‘No, but–’

  ‘Well then!’ Esme crossed her arms and nodded, satisfied. ‘Just tell him that when you see him, tell him you don’t want him to go away.’

  Mollie considered lying, or arguing, but in the end, it was impossible to argue with Esme’s logic: if you loved someone, you tended to want them to stay with you. Especially if the alternative was going off to a possible war zone.

  ‘Okay,’ she pulled her daughter close, wrapping her arms around her and wanting to keep her safe from all the hurt and pain she knew the world would throw at her one day.

  When they walked home, Esme now happily distracted by the idea of a trip the weekend after, to celebrate the end of the cooking workshops, and the stress of their first Ruby Rooms wedding, they were confronted with a letter.

  It was sitting on the table, Mollie’s name scrawled in capital letters. She recognised the writing immediately. Her mum.

  This is what I did it for, so you could have this. I guess you don’t need it, but save it for Esme, so she can go to university and make her mother proud. You managed to do that without any studying at all.

  Love, Mum

  P.S. The letter is from Ruby. She left it for you when she left Badgeley. She said to give it back to you when Jamie came back. I didn’t believe it, but she knew he would.

  Mollie’s hands were shaking as she pulled out the letter and the cheque for twenty thousand pounds. She hadn’t been lying. She hadn’t spent it on booze or bets or nights out – her mother had struggled on, never using that money, saving it for a decade, so that her daughter and granddaughter could have a better life. She was capable of more than Mollie had ever given her credit for. Even with her drinking, and her smoking and her anger, she had never once touched the money. She’d still made a terrible, terrible choice, but... there was some good in her. She had proven that. And she said she was proud of her. Mollie traced those lines with her fingertips, smiling softly.

  ‘What’s that?’ Esme asked.

  ‘Money for fish school. So you can go off and be a very talented ichthyologist.’

  ‘You learnt the word!’ Esme yelped.

  ‘Still can’t spell it.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter!’

  ‘It does, what if I need to write to someone to tell them what my daughter’s job is?’ Mollie teased, feeling Ruby’s letter weighing in her hand, calling to her.

  ‘Spellcheck, Mum, honestly. Also, who writes letters nowadays anyway?’

  ‘Old people,’ Mollie said, looking at the letter in her hand as Esme walked away. ‘Old, old friends.’

  Dear Mollie-kins,

  If you’re reading this, I owe you the biggest apology in the world, really, don’t I? But I swear, I’ve done everything to help you. It might not seem like that, but I wanted you to be strong. I didn’t want you to throw your life away and never be everything you could be. I know you – you commit to things. And you stick with them, no matter what, no matter how bad or awful – you hate to fail, and that’s what scares the crap out of me, gorgeous.

  The baby, I was less scared about the baby. You’ll raise that little person no matter what, though it scares me that you think you need Jay. You don’t. You don’t need anyone. You’re a superstar. A warrior. A queen. You need to believe in yourself. And that’s what I’m giving you. The final boyfriend test.

  If he figures it out, scours the country for you, comes back to this shitty little town because he can’t bear the idea of being without you, well, then I’m wrong, aren’t I? But I think he’ll go. I’ve told him you were in pain, you wanted a clean break, to be free of him. And the problem with Jamie is he’s a good enough guy to respect your wishes. But true love is selfish, isn’t it? So if it’s true, he’ll ignore what you want, and come to find you.

  I know I’m the only one you told about the baby, and I’m definitely the only one who knows about the ring.

  It was that ring Molls, that ring that made me do this. When I came round to see you, and found your mum shaking after Jamie’s mum left the house, staring with those vacant eyes, I realised I had to help. And then you showed me that ring, sad little hearts in your eyes, and I knew you’d depend on him the rest of your life, and good guy or not, just like the rest of them, he would break you.

  It was better to be a little sad now than broken and empty down the line, with nothing to show. This way, you’ll work, you’ll raise your kid, you’ll be independent and strong... and if you’re reading this, it means he’s back, doesn’t it? That you’ve figured it all out and you hate me.

  I get it, and I’m sorry babe. I’m sorry you hurt
, I’m sorry you’re angry. But it’s my job to keep you strong. Maybe you’ll turn up and find me and beat the crap out of me. Maybe you’ll laugh and get married anyway. Maybe it didn’t work and he turned up five days later and that was that. Maybe it’s been a long time. Maybe you’re married to someone else now. Maybe there’s a terribly delicious bit of drama concerning your loving husband and your old flame!

  Maybe I’ll regret this. I regret almost everything I do. But I know three things. I know he’ll come back. I know you’re strong enough to do this alone. I know that I love you.

  Be brave, sweet girl. And do whatever the hell you want – you’re strong enough.

  Ruby xx

  Mollie stood in the hallway, clutching the wall for support as she felt the blood rush to her head. She couldn’t figure out if it was rage, loss or any of a hundred feelings that was making her hands shake, but she plodded up the stairs slowly, stopping every now and then to read those words again. The final test. Ruby was always testing people, making them prove they were unworthy. Often she’d skew the odds. Everyone was disappointing, no matter what. No one passed Ruby’s tests, because they were designed to show you that everyone was broken, everyone could be tempted. Everyone could fail you.

  Mollie padded slowly down to her bedroom, opened her cupboard and reached in the back for an old cardboard box. She rooted around in amongst the drawings Esme did as a baby, the photos of her on stage in the school plays, the glossy, fading images of her and the girls, their faces close together, spotty and made-up, tongues out, hair crimped and coloured. There it was, in the back right-hand corner. The box. The box she put away the day their daughter was born, and never looked at again. She clicked it open and smiled, that simple silver ring with a square of cubic zirconia in the middle. The exact thing a boy of eighteen with no money, who was about to be a father, would buy. Mollie slipped the ring over her knuckle and held out her hand to admire it, the same way she did that first day. Then she crawled up from the floor into her bed, wrapped herself up in her blankets so no one could hear her, and let herself cry.