Hatred

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Hatred Page 8

by M J Dees


  Tony looked at Annabel, then stepped forward and took the bag out of her hand.

  “You shouldn’t be lifting anything in your condition,” he said. “Off we go.”

  “Tony.”

  Tony ignored Annabel and carried her bag to the van in silence. He shook their hands and watched Beggum drive them off into the night.

  Chapter Nine – 22 years and 10 months before the collapse

  Annabel sat on the sofa, waiting for Jim to come home. She’d been working out a budget and would get him to promise to stick to it.

  When he arrived, he was in a foul mood.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “They’re linking our jobs to students’ performance.”

  “But it’s not your fault if the students are too lazy.”

  “Yes, but they argue that they pay me to motivate the students.”

  “The staff won’t put up with it, will they?”

  “Half of them have already joined National Unity.”

  “Did you see Beggum about the rent?”

  “All paid up.”

  He pulled out his phone and opened the banking app to check his balance.

  “It’s all gone,” he said. “How did that happen?”

  “We have to budget, so you are not using your credit cards.”

  “How do you propose we do that?”

  “I’ve made a budget,” she said, showing him the spreadsheet she had made on her phone.

  Jim surveyed the budget.

  “Okay, I’ll agree to this,” he said at last. “They say they will base our salary on the performance of our students.”

  Annabel took his hand and gripped it.

  “You said that already, dear.”

  In bed, Annabel had to sleep in a certain position to accommodate her belly, otherwise she couldn’t get to sleep. Jim had to be very careful where he put his arm. Everything revolved around the unborn child now.

  “Look at that,” said Annabel, exposing her belly.

  Jim looked, and within a moment he could see it, too. The child’s kicks were plainly visible from the outside. But Jim felt guilty because, no matter how impressive the signs of the kicking were, he found his gaze being drawn to her breasts.

  The next day, Jim had a call from Carter Rodriguez, whom Jim hadn’t seen since Edinburgh. He said he was only in town for the day, so Jim invited him to the flat to see Annabel. Jim hadn’t told Carter that Annabel was pregnant, but he took it in his stride.

  “Here’s to the little one.” Carter raised his mug of tea in the air. “You are brave.”

  “What are you doing now?” Jim asked.

  “Keeping myself busy,” said Carter. “Plenty of irons in the fire. I could use a talented man like you, if you ever get bored with academia, get in touch.”

  “That’s very kind,” said Jim, not sure he would want to become embroiled in Carter’s shady businesses. “I’m happy where I am, thank you very much.”

  Jim knew this wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to let his friend know how unpleasant things had become at the university and the fact that Jim was not sure that the performance of his graduating students would be enough for him to maintain his position.

  “Did you hear what Carter said about us being brave,” Annabel said later as they lay in bed.

  “Yes.”

  They lay in silence.

  “Are we brave?” Annabel asked at last. “Or would everything be hopeless without this little one?”

  She touched her belly. She wanted to ask him what else there was to look forward to, but she thought better of it.

  The next day, on the way home, Jim bumped into Beggum loading or unloading furniture into or from the lockup.

  “Are you a father yet?” asked Beggum, seeing Jim approach.

  “Not yet,” said Jim. “Soon.”

  “They take their time, these women,” said Beggum. “It’s mad when you think about it. It’s over in a moment and then, bam, you’ve got this millstone around your neck for the rest of your life.”

  Jim smiled politely and took his leave.

  Annabel looked as though her body could not take any more growth. Her skin stretched so that the veins showed beneath.

  They had just finished their dinner when the pains came.

  “We had better go,” said Annabel. “They are coming more frequently.”

  “You mean the pains started before?”

  “Just before you arrived.”

  “Let’s go, then. I’ll go down the ladder first and help you down.”

  Beggum had gone when they got downstairs, and they walked out onto the street. Some people stared, some in sympathy. They didn’t have far to go. Jim could see the hospital building, but Annabel had to rest on a bench. The pain came again and Jim tried to comfort her, unsure what else to do. He wondered whether to call an ambulance, but they were so close.

  “Let’s go,” she said when it stopped. “We should go while we have the chance.”

  At the reception, no-one seemed excited to see them. It was almost as if they didn’t share the magnitude of the situation that this was the first time they had brought a life into the world.

  “I’m not sure we’ve got a bed,” said the receptionist. “We might have to send you elsewhere. How often are the contractions?”

  The receptionist got on the phone. Jim was becoming very anxious.

  “It’s okay,” said the receptionist as she hung up the phone. “We should have a bed for you tomorrow. You’ll be alright till then.”

  “What?” Jim exclaimed. “Her contractions are every fifteen minutes, she can’t wait till tomorrow.”

  “This is your first, isn’t it?” the receptionist smiled. “You’ll go to the delivery room first. There’s bound to be a bed ready by the time you’ve finished. Let me take your details.”

  Jim felt like a spare part, holding Annabel’s hand while the medical team pumped her full of painkillers and other drugs designed to assist her dilation.

  They waited and waited. Every so often, the medical team would return and ‘umm’ and ‘arr’ and leave, having prescribed patience.

  Jim looked out the window. The world was carrying on as normal, oblivious to the life-changing event about to befall them both.

  The procedure of the medical team visits repeated itself over and over until an older doctor, neither of them had seen before, examined Annabel and declared it was time for an emergency caesarean.

  A nurse gave Jim scrubs, a hat, and mask and led him into the theatre where he stood by Annabel’s side as the anaesthetist sent her into a stupor.

  In comparison with all the waiting they had just endured, the procedure was quick, and a nurse held up a bloodied bundle of fleshy baby for them to see.

  “Is it a boy or a girl?” Jim asked.

  “A girl.”

  A nurse cleaned and weighed the baby and gave it to Jim to hold. In that moment, a wave of great responsibility washed over him as he realised he would have to care for this bundle for many years until it could look after itself. He wouldn’t be able to set it down and forget about it like his other possessions, he wouldn’t be able to leave it enough food and go away for the weekend like he might with a cat, he would need to know where this baby was and what it was doing for the foreseeable future and the responsibility was daunting.

  His daughter was ugly. Society had raised Jim to believe that all newborn babies were beautiful, but the time his daughter had spent in the birth canal had elongated her head, so she looked like some kind of hideous alien. She was crying at an impressive volume. He took her to show Annabel.

  “Hello, love,” Annabel said drowsily, and the crying stopped as her daughter recognised the voice of her mother.

  Jim’s daughter resumed her cries soon after and a nurse took him to a room where she helped him to prepare some formula to feed his baby while Annabel was being stitched up.

  The doctor gave Annabel quite some time to recuperate and also some blood to r
eplace that which she had lost. After a few hours, they transferred her to a maternity ward, and a nurse arrived to take Jim, with their daughter, to her. She lay on a bed attached to which was a small cot of transparent plastic where Jim laid their daughter.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” said Annabel.

  “Yes,” said Jim, still trying to convince himself that his daughter’s alien features were normal.

  “Have we decided on her name?”

  “I thought it would be Olivia, for a girl.”

  “Yes, Olivia.”

  They both watched tiny Olivia sleeping in the cot.

  The next day, they discharged Annabel. The hospital said they needed the bed.

  “In my grandmother’s day,” said Jim. “They kept her in for ten days, which was standard then.”

  When they arrived home, Beggum was in the lockup.

  “Did it go okay?” he asked. “Did the stork give you a nasty peck?”

  “Fine, thank you,” said Annabel.

  “How are you going to get up there with this little one,” Beggum asked as he nodded towards the ladder.

  “We’ll manage,” said Annabel, but she sounded more optimistic than confident.

  “I’ll tell you what,” said Beggum. “I’ll give you a piggyback.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Jim.

  “If you’ve found enough money to rent somewhere more accessible, then I’ll help you move there,” said Beggum. “If not, then it will have to be possible.”

  Annabel handed Olivia to Jim, and Beggum lifted her onto his back. Jim held on with one hand and clutched Olivia under the other arm and climbed the ladder behind Annabel and Beggum.

  No sooner had Jim handed Olivia back to Annabel than Beggum had vanished, leaving them alone, the entire family together in their flat for the first time.

  “It’s cold,” Annabel complained.

  “I’ll get you a jumper,” said Jim.

  “No, I mean, it’s cold for Olivia. Can’t we turn the thermostat up a little?”

  “Just a little. You know how expensive the gas is.”

  “I’d better change her,” said Annabel.

  They had used real nappies. Jim wasn’t convinced about having dirty nappies around the flat, but they had found some free on the internet and the financial benefits of not having to buy disposables was sizable.

  Olivia had opened her tired eyes, cried, and then screamed. Once the clean nappy was in place, Olivia continued to scream.

  “What do we do now?” asked Jim.

  “Nothing,” said Annabel. “I’ll feed her in two hours.”

  “Two hours? We can’t leave her to cry for two hours. Can’t I walk up and down with her or rock her?”

  “If you start like that, you’ll never be able to put her down.”

  “Just for today.”

  “She needs to know that crying won’t get her anywhere.”

  “But it seems heartless to me.”

  “We won’t let her cry forever, it’s called controlled crying. We’ll leave her to cry for a short time and then I’ll comfort her.”

  Jim had got on his flip and was searching for research to back up his opinion.

  “Here you go,” he said in triumph. “Leaving a baby to cry may cause brain damage.”

  He handed his phone to Annabel.

  “It’s only for a while,” she said, ignoring the article. “Until she trains herself to sleep, it’ll be worth it in the long run, you’ll see.”

  “Who told you all this?”

  “My mother.”

  “That explains it.”

  “Jim!”

  Olivia settled down and before long was content to lie still with open eyes surveying her surroundings.

  “We need to get a pram,” said Jim. “You can’t stay here all day.”

  “We can’t afford a pram. Have you seen how much they are?”

  “We can get one off that recycling site where we got the nappies.”

  Jim searched on his flip, and before long, had found one.

  “Look, this one’s not far away.”

  “What type is it?”

  “It’s a good one.”

  “What colour?”

  “What does it matter what colour it is? I’ll say we’re interested.”

  “But what colour is it?”

  “It’s free, that’s what colour it is.”

  A moment later, Jim had received a reply.

  “It’s still available, I’ll get it.”

  “And if I don’t like it?”

  “What’s not to like? It’s free.”

  With that, Jim was off, down the ladder on his way to collect the pram.

  Almost no sooner had he gone than he was back.

  “Where is it?” Annabel asked.

  “It’s downstairs. I couldn’t bring it up the ladder.”

  “What colour is it?”

  “Blue.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Ten – 22 years and 9 months before the collapse

  Jim was walking back from the university when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “You are under arrest.”

  Jim swung around to see Tony.

  “Tony! How are you?”

  “You didn’t even jump. You must have a clear conscience. How’s your wife?”

  “She’s very well; we’ve got a one month old baby girl now.”

  “A girl? Can you afford it?”

  “We can’t,” said Jim.

  “Listen, Jim,” said Tony, who hadn’t been listening. “Look in that shop window.”

  “What about it?” asked Jim, looking at a display of the new stretch phones.

  “There are some superb models,” Tony spoke unnecessarily loudly and then dropped his voice to almost a whisper. “Look to your left.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “The fat man in the grey coat, can you see him?”

  “Yes. He’s walking away.”

  “Good. Keep your eye on him and talk normally with me. Don’t name any names, especially not mine. Talk.”

  They began following the man.

  “Come on,” said Tony. “Say something. If we walk without talking it looks odd, they’ll notice us.”

  “Who will? The weather is pleasant, isn’t it, T...?”

  “Be careful,” Tony hissed. “Yes, very good for the time of year.”

  “A bit of snow wouldn’t go amiss. I like the snow. I can’t remember when we last had snow.”

  “Snow would be good, but just at the weekend.”

  “At the weekend.”

  Jim had already run out of things to talk about. The man in the grey coat was still only a few paces ahead.

  “Say something, Jim.”

  “Now you’ve said my name. Where are we going anyway?”

  “To your place, where else?”

  “Then we should have turned left.”

  “So why didn’t you turn left?”

  “I thought we were following the man in the grey coat.”

  “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

  “No,” Jim admitted.

  “Well, go the same way home that you would go. I’ll explain everything. Now, talk to me.”

  “We have to turn left again.”

  “Do it then. How’s your wife?”

  “She’s very well. We had a baby girl. What’s going on, Tony?”

  “You just said my name. Now he’s bound to follow us. Don’t look back, at least.”

  At the next corner, the pedestrian lights turned red, and they had to wait.

  “Can you see him?” Tony asked.

  “I thought you didn’t want me to look?” Jim turned to look. “No, I think he went straight on.”

  “I must have been wrong,” Tony laughed. “I can see ghosts sometimes.”

  “Can’t you tell me, Tony?”

  “No, later, we’ll go to your place first, to your wife. It’s a girl, is it? Or a boy? Splendid, did it all go well?
Don’t mind me, Jim, you know what I’m like. Is there a shop around here? I need to get a present for your wife. Does she like flowers? Or would she prefer sweets?”

  “That isn’t necessary, Tony.”

  “I know that, but I’m the one who decides. Flowers and chocolates. Every female is powerless against them. Apart from your sister, but that’s another story.”

  Tony had spotted a convenience store and disappeared inside. A moment later, he re-emerged.

  “Do you know what kinds of sweets she likes? Liquors?”

  “Nothing alcoholic, she’s breastfeeding.”

  “No alcohol when breastfeeding, eh? What a life.”

  He disappeared back into the shop. He returned moments later with two enormous bags packed full.

  “Tony, I don’t think Annabel...”

  “Why not? She doesn’t have to eat them all at once, and I don’t know what she likes. There is so much choice. They didn’t have any flowers, so we need to keep an eye open for a flower shop. To be honest, I bought pretty much all they had. The shop was nearly empty. All these people hoarding.”

  “You shouldn’t have, Tony, It’s unnecessary.”

  “Unnecessary? What do you know about unnecessary?”

  “You don’t have to get flowers.”

  “It’s the unnecessary that she needs the most. I don’t want to take her cut flowers, already dead. I’ll get her a plant.”

  “Tony, please.”

  “Aha, here’s a flower shop.”

  Tony entered and returned with two pot plants in one hand and the carrier bags of chocolate in the other.

  “They only had these. I’m in a difficult position, Jim.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be buying Annabel all these presents.”

  “It’s not money; I’m rich, for the time being, which is just as well because prices are going through the roof. I blame the Government, they’re robbing us blind. I don’t know why they still think printing more and more money is the answer. I’m in a tough position in other ways but I’ll tell you about it later. I’ll tell you one thing though, your sister is a wicked woman.”

  “I’ve always known that,” said Jim.

  “She’s a wicked woman, but she’s marvellous,” Tony corrected.

  “The man in the grey coat?” Jim guessed.

  “What man in a grey coat? Oh, I was just pulling your leg, didn’t you realise?”

 

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