by Carmen Reid
'So it's bad news then, doctor?' Fern asked at the end of his talk.
'No, no. Please don't think of it like that,' he said with a smile. 'Your short-term memory is a little weak. It might stay just as it is for years, but we need to keep an eye on you, because if there's a sudden decline, we need to know and be able to get help or treatment for you. The treatment in this area is improving all the time. I don't want you to worry about a thing.'
Annie and Dinah smiled at him, pretending to be upbeat, but really both of them could feel their hearts sinking. Mum will have to come and live with us – both daughters were thinking. Well, that wouldn't be so bad, would it? Much better than worrying if she'd made it to bed or if she was spending the night gardening in her pyjamas.
With these thoughts still uppermost in their minds, the two sisters were quiet on the drive home in the afternoon.
Fern had shooed them away after a quick lunch: 'I'm fine! I'm fine! Get back to your busy lives and stop worrying about me. I'm not the first person to get old, you know, these things happen. Look at Aunty Hilda,' she'd reminded them, 'still living on her own, soldiering on with her bionic hip and she's nearly ninety! Losing your marbles is probably the best way to go,' she'd joked darkly, 'otherwise you just get older and older and more depressed about what lies ahead. I've looked after some very depressed old feet in my time and it doesn't look like fun.'
'I'm going to have to stop for petrol,' Annie announced as a service station was flagged up ahead.
'Great, I can buy peanuts,' said Dinah.
'Who buys peanuts in a crisis?' Annie scoffed. 'I'm going in there for a bar of Galaxy the length of my arm and I don't want to hear any objections.'
But as she stepped out of the Jeep and onto the garage forecourt, Annie reeled with dizziness and had to grab at the car door for support.
'What on earth's the matter?' Dinah asked urgently.
'I don't know, I feel dizzy . . . it's the smell out here, eurgh!' she said, then retched slightly.
'Get back in the car,' Dinah ordered her. 'Maybe you've got a virus or something, there's some kind of ear infection that makes you dizzy whenever you stand up.'
'Maybe,' Annie replied and slowly lowered herself back onto the seat.
'I'll fill up,' Dinah volunteered, opening the passenger's door and stepping out.
But as she did so, with horror, Annie registered the dark stain on her sister's skirt.
'Dinah!' she exclaimed and reached her hand out to stop her sister, 'Dinah!' she repeated, hating that she was going to have to deliver this bad news, 'you're bleeding. You have to phone your doctor. Now.'
Chapter Forty-two
Billie in school uniform:
Blue sweatshirt (school uniform)
Grey skirt (school uniform)
Black patent shoes (Start-rite)
Pink head-girl badge (gift shop)
Hair grips (Hello Kitty)
Total est. cost: £45
'No, I'll be fine.'
'So you're going to wait for us right here, noodle,' Dinah instructed her six-year-old daughter. 'This nice lady is going to keep an eye on you,' she motioned to the waiting area's receptionist, 'and there are plenty of toys to play with and we won't be long. OK?'
Billie, tearing her eyes from the bedraggled Barbie she'd found in the stack of toy boxes, nodded solemnly.
'You don't need the loo or anything, do you, because I could just take you if you needed to go?'
'No,' Billie assured her anxious mum, 'I'll be fine.'
From the garage, with Dinah making urgent calls on her mobile, they'd driven straight to Billie's school. Billie had to be picked up before Dinah could go to the clinic because Bryan was in Ireland on a work trip and both of the Mummy-friends who might have stepped in to collect Billie were at work today.
Then there were more discussions to be had as Annie point blank refused to stay outside and insisted, in fierce whispers, that of course Billie would be fine in the waiting room and of course Dinah should have someone's hand to hold.
Aside from being anxious about all the practical arrangements, Dinah had kept calm about the bleeding. They had bought sanitary towels at the garage and Dinah had swivelled her skirt round so that she could hide the bloodstain with her handbag.
Apart from once turning to Annie and exclaiming, 'God it's hard, isn't it? Having children . . . well for me anyway,' she'd said nothing else about the situation. She was being incredibly brave, Annie couldn't help thinking as they followed the nurse into the scanning room.
This was private health care for you. No waiting for appointments, no coming back in the morning . . . Dinah had spoken to her doctor in person and been told to come in just as soon as she could.
But Annie knew the private IFV came at a cost to Dinah and Bryan. There would be no summer holiday this year, a frugal Christmas and all sorts of other savings to pay for another go at baby roulette.
The sisters were ushered into a small room with an examination couch, an ultrasound machine and an adjoining bathroom.
'OK, up you go, try and make yourself comfortable,' the nurse said with a reassuring smile.
As the lights were dimmed so that the image could be seen better on the screen, Dinah reached her hand out for Annie's.
Annie took hold of it in both of hers and felt how cool Dinah was to the touch. She instinctively began to rub a little, to impart some warmth. 'I'm sorry I'm not Bryan,' she told her sister.
'Oh, it's OK,' Dinah said in a whisper, 'you're the next best.'
Annie fought back the lump in her throat.
The gel went onto Dinah's stomach and the nurse began to move the scanner back and forth, causing grainy black and white images to appear on the screen. Both sisters had had enough scans in their past to be able to interpret the pictures almost immediately. There was a small white embryo sac visible on the screen in front of them and what was immediately obvious to Dinah and Annie was that it was still. It hung before them and did not pulse with the mysterious and magical heartbeat of life.
There was nothing but tense silence in the room until the nurse said gently, 'This is the embryo here and, I'm sorry, but at eight weeks we would expect to see a heartbeat.'
Dinah just nodded.
Annie couldn't say anything either; instead she squeezed at Dinah's hand.
'OK, I'm going to leave you to get sorted out,' the nurse said, 'then we'll go to the consultation room and talk about what's going to happen next.'
As the nurse went out of the door, she turned the light back on. Now Annie could see Dinah's face properly. She looked incredibly calm.
'I'm so sorry,' Annie told her, not letting go of her hand.
'I didn't get my hopes up,' Dinah replied, 'we went through this four times before we got Billie.'
'I know . . . but wouldn't it have been wonderful if it had just worked first time this time?' Annie couldn't stop herself from asking. 'You were owed a really lucky break.'
'Billie was our lucky break,' Dinah reminded her gently.
To Annie, the room suddenly felt very small and far too warm. She stood up and felt beads of sweat spring up on her upper lip.
'I think I need a splash of cold water,' she told Dinah, 'I'll just go to the loo.'
She hurried to the adjoining bathroom, shut the door and ran the cold tap over her hands, then patted water onto her face. But it wasn't any use, there was a hard ball of nausea in her stomach. Turning to the toilet, to her astonishment, she threw up violently in the bowl.
'What the bloody hell is wrong with me?' she whispered weakly to herself afterwards. With a wet paper towel she wiped her hands and face and tried to pull herself together again, so she could go out and be with Dinah.
Now that she'd been sick, she felt better and mentally she began to go over all the things she'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours that might have caused a problem. Nothing obvious came to mind, but she would ask Ed what he thought. Maybe it was just worry . . . about her mother and now about Di
nah.
Never mind. Never mind feeling sick, the important thing was to get back to Dinah's side. Opening the bathroom door slowly, hoping Dinah hadn't heard anything of what had just gone on in there, Annie stepped back out into the scanning room.
Dinah had moved from the couch onto a chair and sat with her head tucked into her chest. Despite her earlier calm, a low, desperate wailing was breaking out from the very heart of her now.
'Oh Dinah,' Annie cried, hurrying over to her side, 'Dinah,' she soothed putting an arm tightly around her. 'It's going to be fine. I promise you, it is going to be OK. They got you pregnant, that's the main thing. It means it can happen for you.'
The wail only stopped for the second or two it took Dinah to draw breath, then it carried on again. So low and so raw, it made Annie want to cry too.
Four times! they were thinking. Dinah had gone through four miscarriages before Billie was born. Annie shuddered to think of her sister going through the same ordeal again.
'Come and stay with us tonight,' she said, rubbing Dinah's back, 'we'll distract Billie and I don't want you to be on your own.'
'Have a baby, Annie,' Dinah blurted out, 'please have a baby for all of us.'
The house seemed unusually quiet when Annie, Dinah and Billie arrived back. There was no barking from Dave, no Ed and no Owen. Just one of Ed's cats curled up in a ball on the sofa.
'Dog walk maybe,' was Annie's guess. 'Lana!' she shouted up the stairwell. 'She might know where everyone is. Come in,' she urged her guests, 'take off your coats, dump your bags, get into the kitchen. We'll make some supper, but maybe have a few biscuits first, Billie. Let me just go and tell Lana we're all here.'
Annie set off up the stairs, calling out her daughter's name. By the time she made it up to the attic level, she could see light coming out from under the door. Maybe Lana had her iPod on and couldn't hear Annie calling her. She rapped on the door and when there was still no reply, she opened it gingerly: 'Lana? It's Mum, are you OK?'
There on the bed, was Lana, curled into a ball, iPod in her ears, face wet with tears, sobbing as if she'd just heard the most terrible news ever.
'Lana?'
Annie rushed forwards.
Chapter Forty-three
Lana's revision wear:
Big grey cardigan (Ed's)
T-shirt (can't remember)
Jeans (Gap)
Slippers (Christmas)
Pencil in hair (school stationery cupboard)
Total est. cost: £70
'Don't talk to me . . .'
'So what is going on in there?' Connor pointed at the open sitting-room door as he followed Annie into the kitchen.
He'd spotted Lana at a big table set out in the middle of the room. She had her head bent over and was writing so furiously, a heap of school books in front of her, she hadn't even noticed Connor at first. But then had hissed: 'Don't talk to me, Mum will get mad.'
Annie scowled and when she'd closed the kitchen door she hissed, 'She is in so much trouble! She's not going back to school until the exams. I've signed her off sick.'
Annie ushered Connor to a seat.
'She is studying in the sitting room with old-fashioned books, pens and papers. She's banned from going anywhere near a computer. All those hours and hours and hours I thought she was studying away upstairs . . . all the things I thought she was busy researching on the internet. All the essays I thought she was writing. Ha!'
'And? What was she really doing?' Connor was desperate to know. He handed Annie the bottle of wine he'd brought with him, 'Open,' he instructed, 'So . . . running an internet porn empire? Surely at least a dating agency?'
'Shut up!' Annie told him off, 'she was running some whole little set-up on eBay! Selling all her friends' old clothes for them, buying cheap make-up and flogging it at school, trading CDs and DVDs – who knows what else. Pointless! All that time wasted! Then she realizes how little work she's done and has a total meltdown,' Annie ranted.
'On eBay . . . hmmm . . .' Connor couldn't resist smiling, 'remind you of anyone we know? Anyone at all? Anyone who also had a business selling Chinese shoes and secondhand bags and unwanted glad rags? She's following in her trader mum's footsteps!'
'Shut up,' Annie repeated, 'those days are all behind me now.'
'Yes, yes, we'll come on to that,' Connor said, accepting the glass of wine Annie had poured out for him, 'but how has Lana been sorted?'
'No computer,' Annie told him. 'No internet, no eBay, no pocket money and she has to cram. Good, old-fashioned cramming. Nine hours a day with meal breaks for the next fortnight, and I'm supervising.'
'Meal breaks? That's very thoughtful of you,' Connor teased.
'Well, it's too bad. This is how I passed my exams.'
'This is how I failed mine. I couldn't do it. Who can be bothered to have their heads stuck inside boring old books for nine hours a day.'
'Shhh!' Annie warned him, 'I don't want her to hear you. You are a totally bad influence.'
She looked at the glass of wine in front of her. It was one of those heavy, treacly, Australian reds that Connor was so fond of. Just thinking about taking a sip was making Annie's stomach feel acidic. She poured herself a glass of water without saying anything to Connor.
'OK, now tell me all about the fabulous you, you, you,' Connor said. He sat back in his kitchen chair. 'So you've snubbed Rafie boy . . .'
'But I have Jenny Belmont!' Annie announced, all wide-eyed with enthusiasm, 'Tamsin told me to try her and she's brilliant. Honestly, she is so tough and so cool and so sussed, I love her. Connor . . .' Annie's voice dropped almost to a whisper, 'I think this really could be it. Jenny and Tamsin are talking about the Big Time. One day in the not so distant future, people really might know about Trinny and Susannah, Gok Wan and . . . me!'
'You better believe it, baby,' was Connor's delighted response. 'So have you signed the big C?'
'This morning. That's why we're celebrating.'
'Is this a party?' he looked round the kitchen sceptically.
'It will be soon,' Annie assured him. 'Ed's picking Owen up from orchestra, which is why I'm meant to start the cooking . . .' she remembered, and headed to the fridge for the onions, 'Dinah and Bryan will be here in about an hour with Billie.'
'How are they doing?' Connor asked.
'OK-ish,' Annie told him carefully, setting up the chopping board and peeling an onion, 'they're having a big think about whether they really want to go through this all again. They have Billie, maybe Billie is going to be enough . . . we'll see. What about you?' she asked next. 'Are you and Hector still thinking about . . .'
'Might get a dog instead,' Connor told her with a wink as Dave padded into the kitchen. 'So how much are you getting then? It better not be more than me.'
'Ha-ha,' Annie responded, but then looked up from her onions with a grin and squealed, 'Jenny's upped it to ten thousand per episode!'
Connor whistled. 'Not bad!'
'And they're making six this year!' Annie added gleefully. 'And if there's another series . . .'
'You and Jenny hold out and haggle hard,' Connor finished her sentence, 'Congratulations. I am very, very proud of you. You are going to be terrific. I just know it.'