Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes

by Amanda Martin

  Daniel seemed to swell visibly, his face as cold and hard as the granite work top Helen was gripping for support.

  He drew breath but, before he could speak, Helen quickly carried on, hoping that by preventing his utterance she could erase the words entirely. She could see they were not going to be words easily unsaid.

  “Because it terrifies me.” The words came in a rush. “Being a parent, growing a little person inside here,” she rubbed her stomach protectively, “knowing that this person will need me and love me and always be a part of my life.”

  She realised immediately that this was the wrong thing to have said.

  “I. Need. You.” He spat the words out and they were stripped of all emotion. He could have been speaking of his car or coffee machine. Suddenly it seemed as if something snapped inside Daniel and a torrent of words came spilling out unstoppable. He paced the room, looking anywhere but at Helen, his arms flailing as he spoke.

  “There is no room in this place for a squalling brat, taking up all your time and energy, keeping me awake. How can you host a dinner party when you’re fat as a house bumping into the furniture, or with a snotty child on your hip? How dare you even think it? I have worked too hard, for too long, for you to try and ruin it in this way.”

  He paused, panting. Helen could feel his eyes raking across her as she slumped forward, arms still gripping the breakfast bar for support. She pictured what he could see, what she had seen herself an hour before, gazing in the bathroom mirror: her face drawn and grey, exhaustion emphasising the dark circles under her eyes. She knew it would disgust him. As if in confirmation, Daniel drew breath and delivered his verdict.

  “My Wife,” and Helen heard the capital letter, “should be elegant, attractive, entertaining. An asset.”

  She looked up mutely into his anger but he no longer saw her. Instead he was staring blankly at an internal image she could neither see nor emulate.

  “I want a hostess, a companion; someone who will support me in my career. Not,” he glared back at her wan face, the rising nausea turning her skin a sickly hue, “not someone who will whine and vomit for months, growing huge and cumbersome, and who will then produce something that, too, will whine and vomit, as well as consume her every waking moment.”

  Helen thought distractedly that, in a way, Daniel’s words were a compliment. That she had fulfilled his exacting requirements enough for them to be engaged was quite an achievement. Part of her laughed at the thought, with a bitterness that burned the throat. Was he aware of what he was about to lose? He had made his position clear; he was forcing her to choose. Well, that was an easy choice to make.

  “I’m not having an abortion.” The words followed on from her train of thought and she didn’t stop to soften them or make them less confrontational.

  There was an awful pause as Daniel stood immobile in the centre of the kitchen, the last of the light fading from the skylights above his head. He was surrounded by spotlights that appeared to shine brighter as the light receded outside. For a moment there was silence, and then he spoke.

  “You will do what you are told, or you will get out.”

  Helen looked at him standing there, arms hanging loosely by his sides, face harsh and unyielding. There was no sign of the man she loved anywhere in his uncompromising frame. His eyes were hooded, staring just over her shoulder at the Monet print on the wall behind her.

  Helen’s brain ran through response after response, trying to settle on the words that would defuse the situation, would bring back her Daniel. Nothing seemed to fit. Her only thought was, when he calms down, he’ll feel differently. The notion gave her strength.

  Yes, he’ll come round, when he’s had a chance to think things through. He loves me. I surprised him, that’s all. He wants to marry me, I know he does. He set the date, pushed things along. He chose my dress, for heaven’s sake. When he’s calmed down he’ll see that a baby will only bring us closer, make us happier. It won’t affect his career.

  Part of her thought that maybe he should realise that babies always come first before money or work, but the thought was quiet and easily ignored.

  For now, he needs space; I must give him time to adjust. I shocked him, that’s all.

  She stood in silence and left the room. In the bedroom she gathered up things for an overnight stay, took her phone, her handbag, her laptop. As she headed for the exit she took her camera out of the hall cupboard. She waited in the hallway for thirty seconds, wondering if he would call her back. Then she left the apartment, resisting the urge to slam the door.

  When the lift deposited her in the lobby she could see it wasn’t quite dark outside, despite the late hour. The air was warm but Helen shivered, wondering what she was going to do now. She didn’t really have a friend close enough that she could turn up unannounced on their doorstep at nearly midnight looking for a bed. Her parents lived in Devon and her brother was in Dubai.

  On impulse she decided to phone the small boutique hotel near Earl’s Court, where her parents stayed when they came to visit, to see if they had a room. She was relieved beyond measure when the response was Yes, they’d had a last minute cancellation.

  If the night porter thought it strange that she was calling at such a late hour, he didn’t let on.

  Hanging up the phone, Helen realised with a stab of fear that she didn’t have enough cash for a cab. Even though the hotel was near an underground station she didn’t relish travelling by Tube so late on a Friday night.

  I guess there are lots of things I’m going to have to learn to do by myself. It’s not like I had the money for a cab as a student.

  Lifting her chin, Helen fixed her eyes straight ahead and walked briskly to the nearest underground station. As she took the familiar route along Fleet Street, deserted at this late hour, Helen tried to think rationally.

  Money; how is that going to work?

  It was too late to regret letting Daniel persuade her to leave her job, even if it was true that he couldn’t date a member of staff, particularly not one so much junior to him.

  She ground her teeth as she thought back to the conversation. At the time she had been so swept away by the idea that he wanted to date her at all, she hadn’t thought through the implications of his request. And even if she kept her business head on enough to protect herself, she no longer felt smug negotiating a decent wage from him.

  He’s not exactly going to pay me wages now, is he?

  Her savings weren’t going to last long and she’d be damned if she was going to take from the joint account.

  By the time she reached the hotel Helen was shivering. She explained to the night porter, in as clear and unwavering voice as she could manage, that Daniel was away and she had returned to the apartment after a night out to find the power off. She’d rather the night porter thought her a pampered princess who couldn’t manage without electricity for one night, rather than a jilted fiancé with a baby on the way.

  She was shown to a tiny box room on the third floor, with a small window over-looking a wall. It wasn’t the usual serene room her parents had, but she was beyond caring. Dumping her bag by the door, she stumbled towards the single bed. Helen let her body fall forwards, until she was lying down, and then she wept.

  Chapter Six

  “Twenty-four hours since I found out I’m going to be a parent and look at me, I already look like shit. Like I haven’t slept in weeks.” Her words echoed loudly in the silent room.

  Helen tried to smile at the waxen image in the mirror but it threatened to breach the protective barrier she’d built, so she turned away. A quick glance at the phone, permanently in her hand, revealed there were still no messages or missed calls.

  She perched on the edge of the bed and looked at the morning sun painting streaks across the red bricks outside the window. She had an hour until she had to check out and as yet no plan had formed in her weary mind.

  I suppose I could ring Sharni.

  The thought was quickly dismissed. Deep
down she knew what her photography friends thought of Daniel and she wasn’t ready yet to tell any of them they were right. There was still time for him to prove them wrong.

  “He just needs time,” she said aloud, trying to fill the silence. She knew what option was left to her but was reluctant to take it; it was too stereotypical in such circumstances. Every damsel in distress who found herself pregnant and alone turned up on the parental doorstep and a strong streak of stubborn pride made her hesitate to act that role. Where else can I go? Her flat was let for six weeks more at least on the current lease and she couldn’t afford the mortgage without the income from rent anyway, not until she found work.

  Her mouth went dry. The thought nagging most at her mind, more than Daniel’s injustice, was Where am I going to find work? She could hardly go back to the firm where she met Daniel and the City was such an incestuous place. Anywhere she went they would whisper about her.

  I might still win the competition, she thought, trying to be optimistic. She laughed bitterly at the idea that £500 would last her long in London.

  I don’t want to leave the city. Even without my new photography friends, London’s my home. It has been for nearly a decade.

  Thinking about where she grew up made Helen smiled wryly. If she thought they would whisper about her in the Square Mile that was nothing to what the neighbours would say if she returned south with a bump and no partner. Besides, even though she loved Devon, she was a city girl at heart. That was why they had planned a trip to Hong Kong for their honeymoon, rather than a beach break.

  Oh god, the wedding. What are we going to do? Helen shuddered. She couldn’t bear to think about that now. The wedding was only weeks away, everything organised, invites sent, the works.

  I don’t want to be the jilted bride, to have my big day taken away from me.

  As she thought the words, Helen realised it wasn’t really her day. Daniel had completely thrown himself into all the arrangements; she had thought it sweet, knowing as she did that most men had a walk-on part only. Now, in light of his behaviour the night before, she wondered if his involvement had been controlling rather than endearing. Not just choosing the dress but dictating the guest list, the gift list, even the music they would dance their first dance to.

  What man cares about that?

  A sense of clarity descended on Helen’s sleep-starved brain. Although the room was hazy, her thoughts seemed sharper than they had been in months. She began to realise that maybe the photography group were right about Daniel. The longer she sat with the silent phone in her lap, staring at the sun moving across the wall outside, the harder it was to believe that he did truly love her.

  All along I’ve been smug that my man was so deeply in love with me that he came with me to taste the cake, to choose my flowers. But his performance last night -- that wasn’t about love. I’d done something without his blessing, albeit something I had no say in, and he hated it. As if I got pregnant just to spite him!

  Helen stood up and tried to pace in the tiny room, her body quivering with energy.

  Who does he think he is, trying to run my life? Am I just one of his business deals, something he needs to control down to the smallest detail?

  The thought made her feel hollow, as if the life they had lived for the last few years was a sham. She sat down again, the fizzing energy burning itself out as quickly as it came, leaving her with the weakness she had come to associate with being pregnant.

  As she sat slumped in defeat, hollowness gave way to numbness. She flopped back and stared at the ceiling, feeling more lost than she could remember feeling before. She had always had a purpose, a drive to live life. Had Daniel stolen that from her?

  I’ll be damned if he has.

  The words flared in her mind as Helen fought back the wave of self-pity threatening to consume her. Focusing on the anger, Helen pushed away the loneliness and loss. A steely taste filled her mouth. As she took first one deep breath and then another, Helen felt resolve creep through her. Sitting back up, she found she no longer wanted to sob. She didn’t even want him to call. If he thought she was going to sacrifice her baby for his grand design he had carefully selected the wrong woman.

  Wouldn’t he just hate that?

  A taut smile dragged at her salt-tight cheeks. Now Helen felt that going to her mother’s was not running away but rather a strategic retreat to formulate a new plan of action. She picked up her phone and selected the familiar number, breathing slowly as she waited for her mother to answer.

  “Maggie speaking.”

  “Mum? It’s Helen.”

  “Darling, how lovely to hear from you. How are the wedding plans going? Your father and I are so looking forward to coming to town.”

  “Ah,” Helen hesitated, she’d forgotten about her mother’s endless enthusiasm. “There might not be a wedding. Something has happened.”

  “Goodness, what is it, darling? Is it Daniel?” Her voice took on an edge Helen hadn’t heard before. “Has he cheated on you?”

  “Now what would make you say that?” Helen was momentarily diverted. Her mother had been nothing but positive about Daniel until now. Was it going to be one of those instances where suddenly everyone came out and admitted they had never liked him anyway? She couldn’t decide whether to be amused or irritated that her life was taking on the hue of a bad chick lit novel.

  “Nothing really, he doesn’t seem the wandering type, but why else does a wedding get called off at short notice. Are you having second thoughts? Is he?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  There was a long silence. Helen’s heart pounded as she waited to hear her mother’s reaction. Maybe telling her over the phone wasn’t such a great idea.

  “That’s fantastic news! My first grandchild.” Her voice was joyous but Helen could hear that it was slightly forced. She waited, knowing her mother would say what she really meant eventually.

  “Is that why the wedding is off? Do you want to wait until after the baby is born? The dress is beautiful, from the pictures I’ve seen; it would be a shame to spoil the line with a bump. How far along are you?”

  “I can only be 5 or 6 weeks, there’s no bump.”

  “Then why, darling? I don’t understand.”

  She realised she might as well tell her mother the whole truth straight away. She didn’t feel obliged to paint Daniel in a good light, so she didn’t mince her words.

  “Daniel wants me to get rid of it.”

  “He WHAT?”

  Helen had never heard her mother raise her voice, not even when she and her brother drew sheep on the landing walls with the felt-tip pens she’d got for her fifth birthday.

  “Is he mad?” Her mother’s voice was shaking with reined-in emotion.

  “He certainly seemed so to me last night. He told me to do what I was told or get out, so I got out.” Helen revisited the scene briefly as she told her mother. Incredulity that he had instructed her to do what she was told almost made her laugh. What planet was he on?

  “He told you to do as you were told?” Maggie’s voice mirrored Helen’s thoughts, somewhere between fury and disbelief.

  “That’s why I’m calling. I need somewhere to stay for a while, until I work out what I’m going to do. I thought I just needed to hole up until Daniel came to his senses but the more I think about it the more his reaction seemed more than shock. He was furious, Mum, you should have seen him.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t,” Maggie retorted, “I’d have punched him.”

  “Mum!” Helen had never heard this side of her mother, like a bear fiercely defending her cubs. Is that what mother’s did? Would she be able to do that?

  I’ve never so much as talked back to a surly taxi driver, how am I going to find the strength to fight my child’s battles? How am I going to be able to look after them and protect them? Oh god.

  “Helen, are you still there? Are you okay? He didn’t try and hurt you did he? Sorry, here’s me getting all angry with him and it’s you I s
hould be worried about darling.”

  “Mum, I’m fine,” Helen staunched the flow of words her silence had unleashed. “I was shocked, upset, but I’m clear now. There’s nothing he could say to excuse his behaviour last night. He more or less accused me of conceiving this baby with someone else. I mean, who thinks that of their fiancée as their first thought?”

  “An idiot, dear.” Her mum was calmer now. “Come home, your room’s always ready you know that; stay as long as you need to.”

  “I don’t want to impose on you and Dad; you’ve only just got rid of me and Simon I know. I just can’t afford to stay in London until I get work. Thank god I kept the flat.”

  “Will you return to London to have the baby then?” Her mum sounded unsure, disappointed even. Helen hadn’t thought it through but of course her mother would prefer her to be closer to them in Devon. She and Dad visited London to see her as often as they could but as they got older it was a long way for them to come.

  “I don’t know yet,” Helen responded as diplomatically as she could. “I have eight months to figure that out. For now I need some distance to work out how to make a living and bring up a baby on my own.”

  “You’ll do great, darling, you have many options and things are easier for you than in my day. Disposable nappies, available childcare, you’ll be fine.”

  As she hung up the phone Helen wondered if her mother’s optimism was well-founded or just empty words to reassure her. She didn’t feel fine at all.

  Chapter Seven

  A shiver ran down his spine. It was approaching thirty outside but the ancient building was imbued with the ice of ages. Marcio’s vacant stare took in the details of the building around him. He’d spent so many hours in the place but yet had never really seen it before. The ornate stonework, the cavernous space, the permanent chill that permeated it, as if you needed to be shivering to truly appreciate the wonder of the Lord.