The Birds and the Bees

by Milly Johnson

  ‘Have you seen a big bunch of keys, Stevie? I’ve put them down somewhere.’

  ‘Oh, I thought I saw them upstairs. Or did I? Yes, I’m sure I did. Now where was it?’

  She put the bowl down and went upstairs to look for them. He followed her and she did a sideways walk up in case he was taking a critical look at her bum. Not that he’d be looking at her bum when he liked a Jo MacLean kind of bum i.e. non-existent.

  ‘Yes, here they are,’ she said, spotting them. ‘I thought I’d seen them. There on the windowsill.’ She reached over and handed them to him. His fingers brushed against hers and it was unbearable for both of them.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. He looked down into her lovely blue eyes and was shamed that she had thought him the sort of man he despised. His ‘plan’ had been stupid. It had confused their lives even more, and he would be left with a worse loss than when he started.

  Stevie raised her head to his face and saw him as he really was and how she had found him, not as Jo had led her to believe he was. You only had to look into his soft gentle eyes to know he didn’t have the capacity to hurt anything. And how had she missed how generous his mouth was? An unattainable mouth, because it still belonged to Jo MacLean.

  Her thoughts stopped there because her senses were alerted to a noise that was hardly indiscernible to the ear, but that a mother’s heart would pick up. It was coming from the kitchen and Stevie’s feet flew downstairs in response to it.

  Danny wasn’t playing any more. He was on the floor, shaking as if in a fit and in great distress, and his lips were paling to blue.

  ‘Adam!’ she screamed. ‘Adam, help me!’

  Adam bounced down the stairs.

  ‘He’s hardly breathing!’ said Stevie, bent over her son. She pulled her hand back to slap him on the back. Adam caught her arm before it impacted.

  ‘No, Stevie. Get an ambulance!’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. She picked up the phone and as if she was in a bad dream, it slipped out of her hand. She grabbed it up and could hardly see the numbers, she was crying so hard.

  ‘Stevie, there’s a button missing on his collar–was there one here?’

  ‘Yes, oh God yes, there was. Hello…ambulance, please.’ She sobbed as the phone connected with the Emergency Services and she hurriedly gave them her details. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was Danny’s mother; she should be in control, saving his life, not standing there–a big stupid jelly and hardly able to speak.

  Adam scooped his finger in Danny’s mouth.

  ‘There’s something in there. I think he’s swallowed his button and it’s blocking his airway. I can’t get to it.’

  Adam got to his feet and pulled the limp little boy up, wrapping his arms around the child from the back. He braced himself and thrust his fist under Danny’s ribcage. And again. It looked so brutal, so abusive. Then something flew out of the little boy’s mouth and Danny gasped and started making sicky, retching noises and then he started crying. It was the most beautiful sound Stevie had ever heard.

  Disorientated, Danny looked around for Stevie, reached out for her and Stevie pulled him into her arms and rocked him. She didn’t know how long for, she didn’t feel part of this world any more. She was numb and cocooned in some safe bubble of time that let her savour the feeling of her son’s breathing, of his life. They sat like that until the ambulance sirened up the lane and Adam met it at the door and explained to the paramedics what had happened.

  ‘We’d better take you in, just as a precaution,’ said one of the paramedics, giving Danny a quick once-over. ‘Hey, young fella, how would you like to have a ride in the back of an ambulance?’

  Danny nodded slowly, but he didn’t say his customary, ‘Cool,’ which was telling. Adam lifted him away so Stevie could get up, and he cuddled up to the big Scot and wouldn’t let him go. So Adam came too, in the back of the ambulance to the hospital.

  Stevie sat in a cosy waiting room with Adam whilst Danny was in the consulting room with the doctor. She was remembering those awful first days of his life when her arms felt so empty. Her Little Fighter. She never thought she would feel that pain or that relief again. Being a parent gave you highs and lows that were almost an assault on the heart.

  She wasn’t sobbing as such, but her eyes were piping out tears. Adam watched them rolling down her face, one after the other, as if coming from an endless supply within. She looked so little, so tiny and more fragile than he could ever have imagined her.

  ‘He was a premature baby,’ she said at last. ‘I didn’t think he’d pull through–I was warned he might not. To have nearly lost your child once is terrible, to go through this twice…’

  ‘Shhh,’ said Adam, because even though he felt shaken himself, he couldn’t imagine what Stevie must be feeling like.

  ‘I told him if he didn’t stop sucking his collar he’d turn blue and he did,’ she wept.

  ‘Stevie, stop tormenting yourself.’

  ‘If you hadn’t been there, he’d have died. If—’

  ‘Stevie, if I hadn’t been there, you’d have saved his life somehow, don’t ask me how, but I know that without a shadow of a doubt. Now stop thinking about “if”, there’s no point. Danny is safe. “If” didn’t happen.’

  ‘You saved his life, Adam, and I was useless, crap. A totally crap mother.’

  All her insecurities came to the fore. Not being able to keep her son’s father, not being able to carry her baby full-term, not being able to keep her son’s would-be stepfather, not giving Danny a settled home, not getting him to eat potatoes or bread, not being able to stop him chewing his collars, not being able to save his life…So many times she had wished to collapse against a big, strong man who would take control and sort everything out for her. Now here she was doing exactly that and it wasn’t Welsh Jonny or Mick or Matthew, it was Adam MacLean, of all people. This truly was Fate’s biggest joke on her yet.

  ‘You’re a great mother, trust me on this,’ said Adam. ‘You put food on his table, clothes on his back and love in his heart.’

  ‘You’ve been reading my books.’

  ‘Awa’, I wouldnae read that pap.’ He nudged her and she laughed, although the tears didn’t stop. Each one brought out another at its end, like a magician’s constant stream of sleeve scarves. Adam put his arm around her and squeezed her. She was all squashy and soft and warm and there was flour in her hair. He wanted to pull her onto his knee and sink his face into her neck.

  The door opened and a smiley nurse came in.

  ‘Hi there, Danny’s mum?’ Then she threw an extra ‘Heeeey’ at Adam, like a female version of The Fonz. ‘Your little boy is fine,’ she said. ‘Scratched his throat a bit, that’s all, but no lasting harm done. Do you want to come and get him?’

  ‘Go on,’ said Adam. ‘I’ll wait here for you.’

  Stevie smiled at him and followed the nurse quickly out.

  ‘So you’re Adam’s lady, are you?’ said the nurse.

  ‘No, we’re just’–mortal enemies–‘neighbours.’

  ‘Adam’s one of our favourites,’ she leaned in and winked. ‘He raised over three thousand pounds for us when he cut all his hair off. He helps us a lot. And, of course, he’s our Father Christmas. The kids love him!’

  A ginger Father Christmas with a scar? thought Stevie, and as if she had heard her, the nurse said, ‘He tells the kids that he scraped his face on Rudolf’s antler.’ She actually sighed, as if she was talking about Ronan Keating.

  Then Adam’s number one fan opened up a door and gestured for Stevie to go in.

  Danny was sitting on a bed and a beautiful female Indian doctor was talking to him.

  ‘Is he okay, Doctor?’ said Stevie, hugging her baby.

  ‘He’s fine. Little scratching to the throat, so I’ll give you a prescription for an antibiotic just in case, and we also recommend an intensive course of ice-cream,’ said the doctor, trying to coax a smile from her patient, and getting a very little one in return.
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  ‘No more sucking collars,’ said the nurse with a gently wagging finger.

  ‘Okay, I won’t,’ said Danny. ‘Can I go home now?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ said the doctor.

  ‘Do I need to keep him off school?’ asked Stevie, taking the prescription.

  ‘I don’t think there’s a need,’ said the doctor, smiling. ‘See how he is in the morning.’

  Stevie wrapped up her son in her arms and carried him out. He smelt and felt so precious, but if she caught him sucking collars again, she would glue his mouth up.

  Adam met them in the entrance hall. Danny reached out, gave him a big Superhero hug, and moved over into his arms. The wee boy smelt of his mother’s perfume. He was so like her, with his honey-coloured hair and his big blue eyes, that Adam found himself gulping back something that made his eyes distinctly watery. His hold on the boy was tight and strong as they got a taxi home to Humbleby.

  ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea, huh?’ Adam said when they got inside the house. ‘Then I’ll get aff.’

  ‘Will you go back home?’ said Stevie. Her throat felt worse than Danny’s must have. Dry and sore. As if she had been gargling with razor blades.

  ‘Aye,’ he said, obviously not relishing the prospect.

  ‘Stay,’ said Stevie. ‘Please.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Adam.

  Then he went to put the kettle on.

  Chapter 48

  Unaware of the drama that had happened across the lane the previous day, Matthew walked into work on Monday morning and had the weirdest feeling he was being watched. Eyes seemed to linger on him longer than was necessary. He had the ridiculous notion that he was the subject of gossip.

  Jo had driven her own car in very early that morning; his suggestion that he accompany her had been met with a weary sigh. It appeared that he couldn’t win at the moment: if he paid her attention, he was crowding her, if he didn’t he was ignoring her. He had tried to talk to her about it in bed at the weekend but she had looked at him as if he were nuts.

  ‘That is so your imagination!’ she had bawled at him, like a good-looking fishwife, then she demanded rough sex. This time he hadn’t been able to raise as much as a smile and he had refused to bite and manhandle her, with the result that she hadn’t spoken to him after Saturday morning.

  He had gone into town on the Sunday, to buy her a ‘sorry for whatever I did’ present, something gold and expensive, but bit back the urge at the shop doorway. This was harder than giving up cigarettes years ago, but he had managed to muster up the willpower to do it eventually, so at least there was some hope of a cure. He bought her a sweet little card instead. It still lay unopened on the kitchen table where she had tossed it down.

  Matthew settled himself at his desk, pondered over the dilemma of what to do for the best and then bit the bullet. He decided Jo would be less annoyed if he tried an active approach rather than a passive one, so he took a deep breath and dialled her extension.

  ‘Jo MacLean,’ she answered briskly.

  ‘Hi, it’s me. Fancy lunch?’

  ‘Sorry, no,’ she said, as if he was a sex-crazed stalker who had just asked her for a gangbang with the Board. She slammed the phone down on him and he stared at it in disbelief. What have I done wrong now? he thought, shaking his head.

  Life had been so much easier and less complicated with Stevie, he found himself thinking, as he headed out of the building in the direction of Pauline’s Pasties at half past twelve, again with the feeling that he was under some giant microscope hidden in the ceiling.

  ‘Have I done the right thing, sending Danny to school?’ said Stevie, shaking her head in self-disgust that she was waving through the class window to the son who nearly died yesterday.

  ‘Okay, let me ask you this,’ said Catherine. ‘How was he when he got home from the hospital yesterday?’

  ‘Bit quiet. Apart from that, fine. Considering.’

  ‘Was he upset in the night?’

  ‘No, he slept like a log. I didn’t, though. I kept checking to see if he was still breathing.’

  ‘And did the doctor say, “Keep him at home”?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And what happened when you said, “Danny, you’re going to school”?’

  ‘I didn’t. I said I was keeping him off for a couple of days but he wanted to go. They’re having that Punch and Judy show in assembly this morning, aren’t they? I’ve told Mrs Abercrombie to ring me if there was any problem at all.’

  ‘There you go then. He wanted to go and he was fine to go. He’ll be better at school bragging to his mates that he went off in an ambulance yesterday than sitting at home with a miserable-looking mother nattering over him.’

  ‘If Adam hadn’t been there, I just don’t know what would have happened.’

  Catherine grabbed her hands. ‘Adam was there. Danny is well. There’s no point in going along the “if” road. You’re talking to the woman who didn’t strap her three-week-old baby properly up in the car seat once and dropped him down two stairs, remember?’

  ‘Yes–and I also remember the state you were in afterwards.’

  ‘Precisely. I was half-insane with all the “ifs”.’

  ‘I feel half-insane as it is. I asked Adam to stay on even though I’m scared stiff that Danny will get attached.’

  Catherine stared right into her friend’s sad, blue eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re not frightened that it’s you who will get attached?’

  ‘Me?’ said Stevie.

  ‘Yes, you. I watched you at the party and I thought, They aren’t acting.’

  ‘Of course we were acting, Cath. Besides, the guy likes tall, good-looking women who weigh less than eight stone. How could I follow Jo MacLean? Talk sense, will you.’

  ‘Ah yes, the lying, cheating Ms MacLean–what a catch she is. The more I hear about that woman, the more I think she might turn up in the Guinness Book of Records for being the most treacherous bitch in the world. I’ve always thought there was more to her than meets the eye. Clever though. But then good liars usually are–and you, of all people, should know that.’

  ‘I know,’ said Stevie. ‘I know.’

  They walked on a little further to where Catherine had parked her car.

  ‘I made some discreet enquiries to Will, by the way,’ Catherine said, ‘like: “Could you get a job as a manager in a topclass gym if you had a criminal record?’”

  ‘Oh, very subtle,’ said Stevie with a gentle laugh. ‘And?’

  ‘Not a chance. They do a full police check.’ Catherine looked hard at her mixed-up bunny of a friend. Next to Stevie’s, her life was more or less flat-lined but she wouldn’t swap her lot for Stevie’s present roller-coaster ride. The girl deserved a break.

  ‘So what now, hon?’ she went on gently.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Would you still have Matthew back? After all that’s happened?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ said Stevie, without thinking. She didn’t want to allow herself room to think. Otherwise, what the hell had been the point of the last eight weeks?

  ‘Hiya, wee man!’ said Adam, coming in from work, giving Danny a big cuddle as he rushed at him. He was wearing new pyjamas with no buttons or collars to be seen, he noted, and his Dannyman emblem was stitched on the front.

  ‘Hey–nice jim-jams. Like the style!’ said Adam, twirling him around.

  ‘He’ll be in that style until he’s forty-five, if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ said Stevie. ‘Anyway, come on, bedtime, little man.’ She gave Adam a tentative smile. ‘He wanted to stay up and just say “hi”. I hope that was okay?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Adam. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

  ‘Because I’ve encouraged you to stay away from him, and then suddenly I’m throwing him at you. I didn’t want to add to any confusion for you.’

  He looked at her. What was that conversation he’d had with Danny once about the most important quality of a Superhero? He reckoned Danny’s m
um had just what it took to be one of the best.

  ‘Nice smell,’ he said, pulling his eyes away and to the kitchen.

  ‘I made you a steak pie. As a thank you for…you know what. I’ll just…’

  Words failing her, she edged backwards and took Danny upstairs for their bedtime business. Then, after discreetly checking her make-up and squirting on an extra spray of perfume, she went back downstairs to find Adam looking across the lane at Matthew’s house, lost in his thoughts. Her heart started beating a little faster in distress. After all Jo MacLean had done to him, it was obvious that he still wanted her, but then the heart was a wild card that didn’t play to a rulebook. It had made her half-mad for Mick, who treated her so cruelly, it had made her agree to a ridiculous plan to get cheating Matthew back, and now it had turned its deranged attentions to Adam MacLean, who was still madly in love with another woman. How could she judge him? There was no bigger fool on this earth than her own heart.

  She carried the pie to the table, which had been set just for one.

  ‘You no’ going to join me?’ he said.

  ‘I’m not hungry, really. I have to get some work done. Can I get you a drink? Wine? Whisky?’ She had bought a bottle of both in.

  ‘No, I’ll just get a wee glass of water. Cannae stand whisky!’

  Stevie looked at him in open-mouthed shock. ‘But you’re Scottish.’

  His eyes twinkled. ‘You noticed?’

  ‘And you had a trolley full of it that day when I met you in the supermarket.’

  ‘That was for the hospital tombola. Jings! Did you think it was aw for me?’

  ‘Well, yes…sorry.’ Stevie smoothed her hair back from her face in a gesture of embarrassment. The ‘B’ file in her head was full of so much conflicting evidence about the man that it blew up there and then in shame. ‘I got you so wrong on all fronts, didn’t I?’

  ‘Wasnae your fault,’ he said, wisely not mentioning that he had believed Jo’s stories that Stevie was a complete harpy, a car-crash of a mother and a mega-slattern-fiancée.