by A. D. Koboah
“How’s everything going anyway?” I asked, hoping to salvage the rest of the visit. “What’s university like? Have you got a boyfriend now?”
She got up again at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’ and went and stood at the window.
“Uni’s all right, there’s jus’ a lot of work dat needs to be done. Everythin’ else is all right.” I waited for her to continue, to elaborate on what she had said, but she was silent. “I can’t stay for too long, I’ve got an essay to finish for tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said, heavily disappointed.
It was obvious she didn’t want to be here. She was showing almost no interest in Dante, and her obvious unease was beginning to make me feel awkward.
“I was on my way out when you came.” I stood up, deciding to make it easier for her to leave as soon as possible. “I can give you a lift home.”
“Y-you’re driving now?” she asked and quickly faced me.
“Yeah, my family, especially Barbara, they really helped me out with all his baby stuff, so I used the money I’d saved up to buy myself a little banger. I honestly don’t know how I would’ve managed without a car,” I explained, somewhat unnerved by her strange expression.
“It seems as if you’ve got everythin’ these days. You’ve got your own flat, a car, you’ve even got Mohamed’s baby.”
I was taken aback by that statement, especially by the undercurrent of hurt and resentment behind it and wondered what on earth would make her say something that odd.
“I don’t have anything, Nicola. My life is gonna be on hold for at least sixteen years. You’ve still got yours ahead of you.”
She didn’t reply and turned back to look out of the window. I felt awkward now about what I was going to ask her to do, but felt I had to do this. So I walked away from the Moses basket to my bedside cabinet and took out a white envelope.
“Nicola.” She moved round to face me. “I wondered if you could do something for me?”
“What?”
“I’ve got a picture of Dante here for Mohamed.” She faced the window again and I was unable to see her expression. “If I give you his address, can you go to his house and give it to him?”
“Of course.” She moved from the window and took the envelope from me. “You haven’t heard anythin’ from him, have you?” she asked nervously.
“No.”
I walked over to my chest of drawers, picked up a brush and ran it over my hair.
“An’ you’ve not tried to call him?”
“I’ve still got his mobile number, but I’ve been too scared to call—”
“I don’t think you should call him,” she said quickly. “You’re better off jus’ leavin’ him alone. I’ll make sure he gets dis,” she added with a smile, the first time she’d smiled since entering the house. Then she put the envelope in her jacket pocket.
I pulled up outside her parents’ house half an hour later. She hadn’t said a word throughout the duration of the journey.
“Thanks for da lift, Peace,” she said as she clambered out of the car. She had peered at Dante with a tender, yearning expression for a few seconds, looking as if she was close to tears again. “I’ll bell you during da week.”
“It was nice seeing you. Bye, Nicola.”
As I watched her walk away, I knew that I wouldn’t be getting a phone call from her and that this was probably the last time I would see her.
My whole life had changed completely in less than a year and I was more alone than I ever imagined I could be.
I gazed at Dante sleeping peacefully beside me in his car seat.
He was so beautiful.
I stroked his hair and leaned over to kiss him gently on his head. Then I started the car.
Having a baby had completely torn me away from my old life and from people my own age who didn’t have the same responsibilities I now had. But I wasn’t totally alone. I had the one person who really mattered in my world. Dante.
Chapter 13
I was spending another evening alone in my flat. Eva had gone on a date with someone she had met at the bar she worked at and I was bored.
My mood wasn’t helped when Anytime by Brian McKnight started playing.
I only had to hear the first few dull beats of the song, which sounded like a heartbeat jumping and skipping in anticipation of a lover’s touch, and I was remembering being in a different time and place. I listened to the first few notes of a piano and then the sound of his silky voice moaning seductively, teasing the listener before he sang the first few lines of the song.
It was such a beautiful song, but hearing it filled me with so much pain that I turned off the stereo, allowing silence to descend on the room. After a few minutes of that deathly silence, I stood up and walked over to my chest of drawers, needing to escape the memories that were whispering to me. I just wished that I knew of a way for me to flee from them and never return.
***
Loneliness and isolation had continued to be a part of my life even after Dante was born. I didn’t hear from Mohamed, never saw him and it was as if he had never been in my life.
I had no one to talk to about how I felt, no one to confide my fears and pain in and I spent many lonely days and nights remembering my six months with him and how sweet he had been to me.
Now I didn’t even know where he was, what he was doing or who he was with. I missed him terribly and it hurt to think that he probably never even thought about me and that it had been easy for him to walk away from us without a backward glance.
He was always my first thought whenever money was tight, whenever I clashed with my family, or whenever something unpleasant happened during the course of the day. He was always the first person to come to my mind whenever Dante was ill or simply wouldn’t stop crying.
I also began to think of the day when Dante would be old enough to talk and would begin asking questions about his father.
What would I possibly have to say to him?
Those months and years had been hard, so hard. But through it all Dante had brought me joy I had never experienced before. He gave purpose and meaning to my life that was irreplaceable.
No one would ever know the pleasure I received whenever I was making funny noises or pulling faces and he would eventually smile, how important and worthy I would feel in that moment.
No one would ever know what it felt like whenever he cried and all he needed was my touch, or the sound of my voice to soothe him.
The journey from his first smile, his first tooth, his first step to his first word; all of it became a source of pleasure that surpassed anything I had ever known. I had lost Mohamed but gained so much more in return, and although I still thought about him and still pined for him, I knew where my priorities lay. I knew I had to do everything I could to make sure Dante had everything he needed in this world.
The only opportunity during those years to find out anything about Mohamed came about when Dante was eight months old and I had taken a trip to the chemist to buy some nappies.
I remember cursing silently as I struggled to keep the door open with one hand and manoeuvre the heavy buggy into the chemist with the other hand. The sales assistant, who was stocking up the cosmetics stand, glanced over in my direction and rolled his eyes. Then he turned his attention back to the shelf.
I came into this chemist often as the next one was a twenty-minute walk away. So I was used to his surliness and wasn’t surprised that he didn’t come and help me with the door. When I finally got the buggy into the shop, I picked up the nappies I wanted and went to the counter. I watched him finish stocking up the shelves and then stroll leisurely to the counter where I stood waiting to be served. A white woman had come in during the time I had been waiting to be served and automatically brought her goods to the counter. He had picked up her items and started scanning them, ignoring the stunned stare I directed at him.
Having no concept of assertiveness at that stage of my life, I had kept quiet even though it wa
s on the tip of my tongue to say to both of them that I had been waiting and should be served first. Instead I protested silently by putting the packet of nappies down and walked out of the shop.
I stepped out onto the street, a stressful, sleepless night making me almost tearful at the small injustice. I didn’t have enough money to fill my petrol tank, so I started walking and was still thinking about the things I should have done or said back at the chemist when I saw Jason talking to a group of men.
I stopped and was wondering to myself whether or not I should approach him when he turned and saw me. He stared at me for a few seconds and then walked over to us.
“Peace?”
“Hi, Jason.”
“I thought that was you,” he said, watching me carefully. I was grateful when his gaze fell on the buggy. “Is this who I think it is?” he asked, kneeling down in front of the buggy.
A soft smile appeared on his lips when he saw Dante peering at him.
“Yeah, that’s my little man Dante,” I said managing a smile myself as I self-consciously tried to smooth back any wisps of hair that were out of place.
I was all too aware of how tired I must have appeared. My clothes were old and worn and I pulled the lapels of my coat together to try and hide the shabby T-shirt I wore underneath which probably had specks of baby food on it.
“That’s a nice name,” he said, only glancing up at me briefly before his attention returned to Dante. “How are you guys?”
“We’re okay,” I said, watching him play with Dante.
He had started to unbuckle him from the restrains of the buggy and then stopped and looked at me, still smiling softly.
“Can I?”
“Yeah, sure,” I agreed, watching him undo the clasps that were keeping Dante confined and lifting him easily out of the buggy. “Don’t take it the wrong way if he starts crying. He’s kinda funny around people he doesn’t know,” I warned.
But Dante was already smiling at him and reaching up to try and grab at his face.
“So how are you really?” Jason asked, turning his attention back to me, the smile having left his face.
The nervousness I always felt in his presence returned swiftly and I felt my mouth go dry.
“I’m good, just getting used to the sleepless nights.”
“You’ve lost weight,” he said matter of factly, his piercing, dark brown eyes watching me carefully.
“Well, I could do to lose a lot more than this,” I said with a slight chuckle.
He didn’t join in and simply stared at me.
“Um...careful,” I said reaching over to try and release the tight grip that Dante had on a gold chain Jason had around his neck.
“I can see this one’s a bit of a handful,” he said with a laugh, exposing a brilliant smile.
He had perfect white teeth apart from the front two which were crooked. But although that imperfection made his smile look a little bit goofy, it seemed to make him more handsome. It was probably the first time I had seen him smile properly and it lifted his face and warmed his cold eyes, reducing the nerves I always felt in his presence.
“He’s a good boy really,” I said.
“He looks exactly like Mohamed,” he said when the chain was safely tucked under his jumper.
“I know. My friend Nicola said she couldn’t see it, but he does, doesn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t listen to anything Nicola says.” The smile disappeared as suddenly as it had come.
“I didn’t know you and Nicola knew each other,” I said slightly puzzled.
He grew quiet, looked tense and averted his gaze.
“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds. I waited for him to continue but he was silent.
“So…how is Mohamed?”
He hesitated before he answered and didn’t look at me when he spoke. His gaze fell on Dante instead who seemed to have fallen in love with him and wouldn’t stop reaching up to try and touch his face.
“He’s all right. He’s gonna be starting his second year at uni this autumn.”
“Does he…?” I began after a short pause. ”Does he ever talk about us? Does he ever wonder about the baby?”
The expression on his face and his tense shoulders told me all I needed to know.
“Do you know if he even kept the picture I asked Nicola to give to him?”
He looked up at me sharply.
“What picture? You gave Nicola a picture to give to him?” I nodded, unnerved by the flash of anger that had suddenly appeared in his eyes. “When?”
“About five, maybe six months ago.”
He lowered his gaze and the flash of anger I had seen a moment ago was swiftly hidden and it seemed as if a screen fell over his features, hiding any traces of emotion.
“He ain’t said anything to me about it, but to be honest, I don’t see Mohamed as much as I used to,” he said eventually. But I got the feeling that there was a lot more going on than he was letting on.
He reluctantly put Dante back in the buggy and then stood up again.
“I’ll make sure I tell him I saw you and Dante. Is there a number he can—?”
“My number hasn’t changed. If he was gonna call me, he would’ve done it by now,” I answered, wishing I could hide the hurt I felt a lot better. But it must have been written all over me.
“It was nice seeing you,” I said.
As I went to walk away he stopped me with a hand to my arm, reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out some folded bills.
“Jason,” I said, shaking my head when I saw what he was about to do. “I can’t take money from you.”
I felt a sickly, pungent shame descend on me. I didn’t want his charity.
“It’s not for you. It’s for Dante.” He took hold of my hand and placed the money firmly into it.
“Thanks,” I had mumbled after a few moments spent wrestling with my pride and obvious need.
He had then pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it before handing it to me.
“If the two of you ever need anything, you can call me you know.”
“Thanks, I will,” I had lied.
We said our goodbyes and I walked away from him and down the road. I checked back once to see him staring at me the same way as when he had driven me home after I had told Mohamed I was pregnant. But I saw this time that it wasn’t disdain but pity in his eyes. I felt the weight of that pity as I walked away, the pain of Mohamed’s rejection renewed afresh by that brief encounter.
Chapter 14
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A used condom with thick, milky sperm seeping out of it was lying on my clean bathroom floor.
I backed out of the bathroom, away from the condom and the heavy scent of stale sweat mingling with a woman’s sickly sweet perfume, and into the hallway. I heard the sound of a male voice from the direction of the living room before I stumbled into the kitchen. The fridge door was left open and I saw with dismay that it had been plundered of the food Eva had bought the day before. All the fruit was gone and only one out of the two bottles of Coke she had bought could be seen, nearly empty, and sitting with the lid missing in a sticky pool on the kitchen worktop. I checked through all the cupboards. The crisps she had bought were also gone along with all the biscuits.
I put my hands on my hips and tried to work out what had happened. One minute it had been light outside, although it was only a grudging grey light that came in through the windows, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in my bedroom to a blue-black blanket of darkness. It was also baking hot in the flat, making me sweat in my bathrobe, and when I turned to the boiler, I saw the heating was on even though Eva and I had agreed to ration the amount of time we kept the heating on so we could cut down on fuel bills. As I turned the heating off, I glanced at the clock and saw with bewilderment that it was seven o’clock in the evening. What the hell had happened between now and this morning when Eva had left to go to university?
It didn’t take lo
ng for the answer to find me and it came with a sharp, suffocating sense of frustration, along with the overwhelming urge to scream.
Daniel.
Daniel who had arrived out of the blue this afternoon and pushed his way into the flat, ignoring me when I asked him how he found out my address. He had also ignored me when I asked him to leave. Daniel who finally silenced me when he pulled out a bag of heroin and had even helped me set myself adrift in the bedroom where I had lain for the past few hours, oblivious to everything that was taking place in my home. Daniel who now seemed to have such a strong hold on me that it didn’t matter how hard I struggled as he simply kept on squeezing, leaving me gasping desperately for air.
Daniel.
I looked around me at the mess in my kitchen, the image of the soiled condom still fresh in my mind and became aware once more of the voice, Daniel’s, coming from the living room.
When I entered the living room, he was lounging on the sofa, talking on his mobile phone. There was an opened bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor along with glasses and empty crisp and biscuit packets. The other bottle of Coke that was missing from the kitchen could also be found on the windowsill and I noticed that someone had burned a small hole in my curtains.
“Daniel! What the fuck happened? Who did you let in my house?”
He glared at me and held a finger up as if to say ‘one second’. Then he carried on talking.
Anger flared within and I reached out and grabbed his phone, knocking it to the floor. “I’m fucking talking to you, you idiot! Who the fuck did you let in my house!”
Before I knew it, Daniel had sprung out of the chair and slapped me.
I staggered back, eventually missed my footing and fell.
I was so shocked that for a moment all I could do was stare at him as he retrieved his phone.
“Lemme call you back,” he said into the phone, his gaze never leaving mine.
He hung up and I pulled myself up onto my knees as he moved toward me. His fists were clenched and he was breathing heavily as he stood over me.