by Mel Sherratt
Becky paled in an instant.
‘Sorry.’ Liz grimaced. ‘I’m not helping, am I?’
‘I want to know though.’
‘Anything else?’
‘How big will it be now?’
‘Do you know how far gone you are at all?’
Becky shrugged. She’d only assumed she was pregnant because she’d had the same symptoms before. ‘Just over three months, I think.’
‘It’ll probably be about the size of a kidney bean.’
‘Is that all?’
Liz nodded. ‘That’s why it’s so important to look after yourself. The baby needs you at the moment. You are its lifeline. Whatever you do now could possibly have a profound effect on its future.’
Becky looked up, drinking in Liz’s every word.
‘It’s you it’s relying on,’ she continued. ‘You and no one else. Do you get what I’m trying to say?’
Becky nodded and smiled. Liz was right. This was her baby: her responsibility. She would look after it as best she could, make sure that no one hurt it. Eager to learn more, she opened the book and began to look through the pages.
Liz stood up. ‘Why don’t you read some of it and then see if you have any questions afterwards? I’m always around for a chat.’
Once she’d gone, Becky lay back on the bed, her legs flat on the mattress this time. No swinging her ankles about like a trapeze artist. Until she’d checked the book, she was going to stay in this position.
An hour later and she was clued up enough to know that things had to change. From now on, there would be no more drinking. No more risk-taking in stolen cars. No more fags here and there that could easily turn into a bigger habit. She would do nothing that would harm her baby.
The book said that having sex was okay too. So if she wanted to do it with Austin, she’d have to do it quickly before she decided who to have as her boyfriend. She liked Danny but she really liked Austin. Maybe he would be the better father, if he was boyfriend-staying-around material.
And he was so mature. Look how he’d sorted Danny out for her when he’d gone too far. That was the trouble with Danny. He didn’t know when to stop, when enough was enough. But Austin, well, Austin was more of a man. She recalled his face, something that had played a big part in her dreams over the past few nights. She remembered every little detail: fiery eyes that often glanced up and down her body, the silver loop earring hanging from his left ear. Yet again she wondered how he’d acquired the scar on his cheek. So far she’d been too shy to ask him.
She rested her hand on her stomach again as she considered how to go about her plan. She had to sleep with Austin soon or else he’d guess that she was pregnant. She wouldn’t be able to keep it to herself for much longer, even if she wanted to anyway. It didn’t take much to work things out. She was bursting out of her clothes even more now, especially her jeans – she couldn’t fasten the waistband at all. Cathy had bought her some maternity leggings and a few baggy T-shirts but she didn’t want to wear them yet.
But how would she tell Danny that she didn’t want to see him any more? And how was she going to tell Austin that she fancied him when he was always with Danny?
Becky pondered for a while. Maybe it would be better to keep things sweet with Danny in case Austin didn’t like her as much as she thought. Although from the looks he kept shooting her way, she doubted that very much.
She smiled. It was then that she realised, despite being sixteen and scared stiff, she wanted to have her baby. And she wanted to keep it. So what if everyone thought she was young and naïve; she’d show them she was mature and ready for anything.
She turned to page forty-two: having sex while pregnant.
As Becky lay on her bed with her hand caressing her stomach, Austin lay on top of his filthy mattress with his hand around his cock. The joint he’d smoked earlier had made him pleasantly sleepy and along with the vodka he’d lifted, he was in a good place. Even in this shit-hole pub. Everything seemed to be going to plan.
As his hand moved up and down his shaft, he imagined Becky’s mouth around it, running her tongue up and down the length before taking him deep into her throat. He closed his eyes. If only it was time to put his plan into action, he could have sex on tap with her. But the timing had to be right.
Still, there wasn’t long to wait now. And he’d seen the looks Becky had been giving him, the glances, the stares, the hair fiddling, the hand on her chest. She was his for the taking.
He didn’t mind Danny keeping her warm until he was ready. Because he wouldn’t have her that long anyway.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cathy was running late for her session helping out at the community house. At the last minute, she’d decided to wash and straighten her hair. She’d also tried three outfits on before she settled on her favourite flirty-swishy skirt, cream wedge heels and a knitted sleeveless top. The recent run of unseasonably warm weather had continued into May, long enough for her to gain a bit of a glow to her skin which the top showed off as subtly as a tiny bit of cleavage. Now she was frantically searching for her car keys. She slapped her forehead more firmly than she’d intended.
‘Think, think!’ she told herself. ‘Where did you have them last?’ She cast her mind back to the day before, as if her mind had wandered far from thinking about Matt Simpson after they’d been introduced.
Oh, yes: they’d just come back from the shops. She raced over to the fruit bowl. There next to the apples, oranges and bananas was a bunch of keys.
‘I’m off out, girls,’ she shouted through to the living room. ‘I’ve left a list of jobs for you to do before I get back. Make sure they’re done.’
Checking herself one last time in the hall mirror, she rushed outside. Then she stopped abruptly.
‘Fuckity, fuckity, fuck!’
There was a huge scratch down the near side of her car. Both tyres had been slashed, the wing mirror had been kicked off and slung onto the grass. She rushed around to the other side, only to find the same had been done there.
‘My car!’ Cathy gulped back tears. ‘Who did this to my car?’
Rose, who was putting rubbish into her wheelie bin, came rushing over. ‘Oh, no.’ She gasped. ‘That’s such a mess. I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary last night either.’
‘I – just – I –’ Cathy ran both her hands through her carefully prepared hair and pulled it enough to hurt. ‘Why me, Rose? Why is it always bloody me?’
Rose walked around the car slowly. ‘It might not be anything to do with you. Though it is probably because of you,’ she said as she inspected the damage. ‘I reckon you must have a long, long list of culprits. Well, because of whom you have staying with you, anyway.’
‘But that’s pathetic. I’ll kill that Kevin McIntyre when I get my hands on him. He has no right to do this to my property.’
‘You can’t prove it was him.’
Cathy shook her head, exasperated at the audacity of it all. ‘Of course I can’t.’ She rummaged around in her bag until she found her mobile phone. ‘I’ll have to ring Josie and tell her I’m going to be late. And I’ll have to change my shoes. I can’t walk quickly in these bloody things.’
Half an hour later, Cathy rushed into The Den at the community house. She found Suzie, another volunteer helper, in the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said, plonking her bag down in a flurry. ‘My car’s been vandalised and I’ve –’
The small, blonde woman held up a hand. ‘It’s okay. Matt’s told me all about it. Not too much damage caused, I hope?’
‘Matt?’ Cathy was taken by surprise. ‘Jeez, word travels fast.’
‘Josie reckons he’s good with cars so she thought he might be able to help out. He’s calling in later, once the rabble quietens down.’
The rabble Suzie was referring to began to arrive in dribs and drabs during the next hour. The Den was frequented by approximately fifty youngsters from the estate. They were teenagers like Jess, Beck
y and Cheryl who had recently left school without qualifications, had no aspirations and no chance of ever getting off the Mitchell Estate to improve their outlook.
For every one of them who came through the door twice a week, Cathy saw a little bit of hope. At first when The Den had opened six months ago, the kids on the estate had avoided it, teasing anyone who had the audacity to attend a session and generally blackballing the place without even stepping over its threshold. But as the buzz about the place intensified and The Den became the place to be, a place to meet up, catch up and get a free mug of coffee and a seat to crash down on, Cathy had seen the numbers slowly increasing. Once she’d got them on side, she’d then been given funding for laptops and set up meetings writing CVs, creating simple IT sessions and gradually raising awareness that there was more to life than sitting back and waiting for it to bite you. Some of the teenagers had responded well, gone on to get themselves jobs and moved on with their lives. Some of them had stayed exactly the same as the first day they’d walked in. But the main thing was that they were still coming every week. And, surprisingly, the laptops hadn’t been stolen. Cathy had no doubt that she would crack some of them eventually. Success breeds success, she hoped.
Today, if she hadn’t been running late as well as having her nerves trashed, Cathy would have done a session on what to wear for a job interview but there was no time for that now. Besides, she didn’t feel like she could stand up and present anything positively today. Instead, the group would have to be content with the usual drop-in session with no particular structure other than coffee and a catch up. It would have to do.
As promised, Matt came by about eleven. Cathy brightened at the sight of him walking towards her and gave him a wave. She glanced down at her feet, now sporting ballerina pumps and sighed. Why didn’t she bring her shoes with her to change into? What a wimp she was, not being able to manage fifteen minutes brisk walking in them.
She was sitting at the table, encouraging Katie Stedson to have a go at taking her GCSE maths again. Cathy was prepared to help out as much as she could, although that wouldn’t be a great deal as maths hadn’t been her strong point either.
‘I hear you’ve had a spot of trouble?’ Matt said.
Katie looked up, waiting to get all the details. Cathy pointed towards the door.
‘There might be a better place to discuss things.’ She spoke to Katie next. ‘Think about what I said. It would be good for you to have something to focus on other than baby Teagan.’
Katie looked a little disgruntled as Matt and Cathy left. They went upstairs to Josie’s office, open to anyone when she wasn’t there. Cathy unlocked the door with her key.
‘Sorry about that,’ she referred to their earlier conversation as they sat down. ‘But news travels fast around here. I don’t want too many people to know that my car has been vandalised.’
‘I’m sorry, too. I’m not used to the estate etiquette yet.’ Matt smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling.
Cathy smiled too: she couldn’t help it. Then as the air crackled with expectancy, she felt colour rising in her cheeks again.
‘Josie mentioned you might be able to help me out.’ She opened the window and wafted a hand in front of her face, hoping that he’d think she was flushed because of the weather. ‘I’m lost without my car.’
‘Yes. I have a small trailer. If you like, I can remove the tyres and take them to be sorted. The mirrors I can fix back and replace; same too with the wipers. But I have to draw the line at a re-spray. I can’t get scratches out. Unless they’ll come out with a bit of elbow grease?’
Cathy shrugged. ‘I can’t remember how deep they are. I was so angry that I didn’t take too much notice.’
Matt checked his watch, giving Cathy a glimpse of downy hairs on his tanned forearm. ‘Shall I pop by after work tonight? Say fourish, if I can get off that early?’
‘Would you?’
‘Sure. I’ll ring around during my lunch break for some prices; see if I can get a good deal anywhere. Then I can –’
There was a knock on the door and Josie walked in. She smiled when she noticed the cosy situation. ‘Suzie told me you were here, Matt. When you have a moment, could you change the strip light in room seven please and see if you can do something with that squeaking door in the kitchen?’
Matt stood up and saluted Josie. ‘Yes, boss. I’m on my way.’
‘Later will do,’ Josie grinned, ‘if you’re busy now.’
‘No, I –’
‘We were just finished,’ said Cathy, feeling her cheeks burning again.
Matt turned to her. ‘See you later.’ And then he was gone.
Josie perched on the corner of the desk. ‘You’re blushing like an infatuated teenager,’ she said to Cathy.
‘I am not!’
‘You are too! He is gorgeous, though, isn’t he?’
Cathy nodded, knowing better than to think she could hide her feelings from Josie.
‘So would you?’
‘Would I what?’
Josie winked. ‘Touchy feely. Hide the sausage?’
Cathy picked up a ruler from the desk and rapped Josie on the thigh. ‘Don’t be so childish.’
Josie leaned towards her and whispered. ‘I’m not the one playing games.’
Before Cathy had a chance to reply, Josie was gone too.
Cathy had ironed a pile of clothes for Rose and had taken them over to her house. She was pretending to listen to Rose prattling on but really she was thinking about Becky getting into trouble, about Jess leading her astray. She was thinking about Cheryl who was staying away more than she was back. She was thinking…
‘Stop worrying,’ Rose told her.
Cathy sighed. ‘I can’t help it.’
Rose peered over the top of her newspaper. ‘You have mentioned those notes to Liz, haven’t you?’
Cathy looked uncomfortable as she shook her head. ‘I can’t find the right time. She seems a bit more content lately.’
‘Kevin McIntyre won’t go away.’
‘Maybe not. But it has been two weeks since the last one. I was hoping there wouldn’t be any more.’
‘It isn’t your call,’ Rose said sharply.
‘I can’t get everything right.’ Cathy frowned. ‘I can only try my best.’
‘I think you should have been straight with her from the start.’
‘And send her right back to him because she’d be too sacred of what he’d do to her if she didn’t?’
‘You have to leave her to make her own mistakes.’
‘And Chloe?’ Cathy snapped, annoyed that Rose should even question her judgement. ‘Does she have to live with the mistakes too?’
‘I was just saying –’
‘Is it my fault that Liz needed help and Josie chose me to watch out for her?’
‘No, but –’
‘I do what I think is best for her – for them all when they live with me – and if that’s not good enough for you, Rose Clarke, then I suggest you do your own ironing in future.’
‘Don’t be so pig-headed. Cathy!’
Cathy stormed down the path and across the street to her own house, seething inwardly. How dare Rose suggest that she didn’t have Liz’s best interests at heart! Wasn’t that her problem, really? She was always thinking too much about other people, how they would react and how she could protect them from more pain. Yet by sheltering them, she chose to give the pain to herself in wondering what to do for the best.
If she told Liz about the notes and Kevin didn’t come around, then she would have upset her for nothing. But if she didn’t tell Liz about the notes and Kevin did come around and mentioned them, Liz would be angry with Cathy for not saying anything. She could scream at the unfairness of it all. Whatever she did would be wrong.
An hour later as she and Liz dished out dinner, and another missed opportunity to discuss the notes had passed, Cathy heard a scream. The hair on her neck rose rapidly, goosebumps breaking out over her arms. Li
z tore across the kitchen and up the stairs and she followed quickly behind. Chloe stood outside her room. Her baby doll had an arm missing.
‘What happened, angel?’ asked Liz, but Chloe was crying too much to tell her.
Cathy barged into the room Cheryl was sleeping in but it was empty. She could hear Becky singing softly in the bathroom so knew it couldn’t have been her. Jess’s room, however, was occupied.
‘What the hell do you get off on?’ She grabbed Jess by the arm and dragged her out onto the landing.
‘Get off me!’ Jess tried to shrug her off. ‘You’re bleeding mad! Let go!’
Cathy pushed her in front of Chloe and picked up the doll’s arm from the floor. ‘Is this your doing, you peevish cow?’
‘No! I never touched it.’
‘Then who was it?’ Cathy twirled round 360 degrees in comical fashion. ‘I don’t see anyone else around here that would do such a cruel and thoughtless thing.’
‘I told you, it wasn’t me. You’re always blaming me. What would I want with breaking her stupid doll?’
Without thinking, Cathy raised her hand. Then she stopped in mid-air. It shocked her that she would want to slap Jess. She calmed herself for a moment.
‘You are such a bully,’ she told her. ‘Sometimes I could knock your block off.’
‘I’d like to see you try,’ Jess goaded. ‘I’d have you reported in a shot.’
‘If I was your mother –’
‘But you’re not, so shut your fat gob and leave me alone. And I know you won’t hit me. You haven’t got it in you.’ Jess shrugged Cathy off.
Before anyone else could speak, there was another scream. But this time, it was more of a wail, like an animal in distress; a long and harrowing sound which stopped them all in their tracks.
Becky emerged from the bathroom, one hand at her chest clasping a towel covering her torso, the other clutching her stomach. ‘My baby!’ she sobbed. ‘I’m bleeding and it hurts.’
Cathy looked down at Becky’s legs. There was a line of blood trickling down the inside of her thigh. Liz rushed across to help while Jess hovered around in the background and Chloe stood in the doorway of her bedroom.