It was only when Elsa began to make her way down the slope that she realised how exhausted she felt. She spent most days on her feet at the greengrocer’s and the hard graft was made harder still by the burden she carried. She tried not to think about the baby. It was bad enough having aching legs – she didn’t need to be reminded of her aching heart too.
Her sense of unease increased as she approached the bench. It was a different colour and she expected the dark brown paint to be wet to the touch but it was bone dry and already flaking. Elsa sat down and, closing her eyes, inhaled deeply. Her body melded into the familiar curve of the seat and her growing tension began to dissipate. She pushed out her stomach and stretched her spine.
When she opened her eyes again, Elsa felt calmer and her thoughts cleared. She lifted up her legs to check her feet. They were even more swollen than she had feared and she let them drop back down with a thud. She was only twenty-two but she felt older, her youth eroded by the harsh realities of life. Spreading her fingers she discovered yet more joints that ached – and she felt no emotional connection to the simple gold wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand. But why should she? It wasn’t hers. She had borrowed it from Mrs Jackson who had told her she would make better use of it than an old, lonely widow.
Elsa hadn’t known a soul when she had arrived in Sedgefield a month earlier but Mrs Jackson had become a good friend and confidant. It had been Elsa’s sister Celia who had convinced her that running away to Sedgefield was for the best; she could stay long enough to hide her shame before returning home to Liverpool – alone – to pick up her old life as if nothing had happened. Celia was older by four years and happy enough to be married to a boring civil servant, living in Manchester and popping out children every other year. It wasn’t the kind of future Elsa had ever imagined for herself – she had wanted to live life to the full until discovering there was a price to pay for her recklessness. Celia, expecting her fourth child, had taken control when Elsa confessed she might be pregnant too, and it had been her sister’s GP who had confirmed their suspicions. Together with the doctor’s wife, whose aunt ran a guesthouse in Sedgefield, Celia devised a plan for Elsa’s future and that of her baby.
Which was how she had ended up here, claiming to be a distant relative of Mrs Jackson, recently widowed and pregnant. It was all lies but lying was something Elsa had become used to. Her mum thought she was staying with Celia to help her prepare for her next child and would be horrified to discover where she really was and why.
Elsa looked out over the lake. The water appeared darker than it had from the top of the slope, reflecting barren treetops rather than blue sky. ‘What in God’s name am I doing here all alone?’ she asked. Her forlorn words, spoken out loud, were barely audible but trickled towards the water’s edge. ‘I need you Freddie. I need you to save me.’
As if in answer to her question the future, which had already been laid out for Elsa, flashed before her eyes and she let out a whimper. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body in a vain attempt to hold on to the baby she was destined to lose but it was hopeless. She wasn’t strong enough, not on her own. Her chest heaved and the pain of her heart being rent in two was impossible to bear. In slow, deliberate movements, she placed both hands on the bench and pushed against her palms as she prepared to launch herself from her seat and into the lake. Her body shook with an all-consuming need to let the waters drag her body down into the abyss and her misery along with it. But Elsa stayed where she was – she wasn’t brave enough.
Not yet.
2
‘Do you mind if my daughter strokes him?’ a woman asked as Maggie sat waiting to be called in for her scan.
‘You’d better ask my wife that question,’ James answered. His tone was pleasant enough but there was an edge to it that only Maggie could detect. It wasn’t unusual for strangers to direct their questions to a companion rather than Maggie herself and, where she had learnt patience and perseverance, James struggled to curb his frustrations. She had to remind him occasionally that he had been equally ignorant not that long ago and, with few exceptions, such interest was borne of good intent.
‘Yes, I’m sure he’d love the attention,’ Maggie answered. ‘And thank you for asking first. You wouldn’t believe the kind of havoc it can cause when someone rushes up and starts distracting him while he’s guiding me.’
Maggie introduced Harvey to the little girl who was two years old and in complete awe of him, as was her mum. Maggie pre-empted many of the questions she knew would follow but she didn’t mind singing Harvey’s praises, he deserved it. She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she told the woman how disciplined her guide dog was and how he kept to a strict diet, all the time knowing that Harvey was salivating over the cookie the toddler had offered to share but he had known better than to accept. But then she had been tempted herself to take the little girl up on her offer; she had been too nervous that morning to eat and her stomach was growling.
It wasn’t long before the conversation moved on to more maternal matters and for a little while Maggie chatted away like any other expectant mum. She could almost forget her fears, which had been compounded the moment she had entered the hospital. Its corridors of power were part of the system that would judge her fitness to be a mother – or so she imagined.
‘Maggie, are you ready?’
‘Mel, what are you doing here?’
‘I’m on ward duty upstairs and it’s unbelievably quiet. Then I thought to myself, I’m sure Maggie’s scan is today, so here I am. Hello, James,’ she added, leaning in for a peck on the cheek.
‘Good to see you, Mel, and what a coincidence that you were free,’ James said, a little too brightly.
Maggie heard the lie but chose not to recognise it as such. She was too busy feeling relieved and very grateful to the midwife – and no doubt James – for arranging the additional support that Maggie would never openly ask for. When she stood up, her knees trembled and she held on tightly to James’s hand as she waited for Harvey to extricate himself from the chubby arms of his new friend. The little girl’s howls could still be heard long after he had led his mistress into the examination room.
Mel introduced them to the sonographer, who was a young, officious-sounding young man called Joel, while James helped Maggie onto the examination bed. With some discreet adjustment of her top and leggings, she exposed enough of her abdomen for the man to do his job. At fourteen weeks, her stomach was still relatively flat and she could almost convince herself that she wasn’t pregnant.
‘I’m going to apply some gel first, it might be a bit cold,’ Joel said and he was right. Maggie jumped when he squirted it on her stomach.
‘It might have been better if you had placed a finger on her stomach first and then said exactly when you were going to apply the gel,’ Mel hissed at him.
‘Sorry,’ he said and there was a nervous cough before he continued to explain what would happen next. With a little more thought this time, he encouraged Maggie to feel the transducer he would be using for the scan. It was about the size of an electric razor and similar in shape. The room fell silent as he began moving it across her abdomen in firm, sweeping strokes. His probing became concentrated on a small area only inches above her groin, directly over her bladder, which was uncomfortably full. She had been drinking water in the waiting room as instructed and would be heading for the ladies as soon as they were finished. ‘I’m going to take some measurements now,’ Joel said.
‘Then I’ll be the one to explain what we can see,’ Mel whispered, loud enough for the sonographer to pick up her irritation. ‘It’s a grainy black and white image, lots of indistinguishable blobs really but we can see a steady heart beating. Right now Joel has frozen the image on a particular frame so he can take some measurements. There’s a very faint outline of baby’s face, a really clear white line which is his spine and I can even make out his arms and legs.’
‘He?’ asked James.
‘I call all
my babies he,’ explained Mel. ‘It’s a bit too early to work out baby’s sex but if you want our friend here to earn his money, we could have a go.’
‘I don’t want to know yet,’ Maggie said. She was still struggling with the idea that there was a living being growing inside her. ‘Do you, James?’
‘No, me neither.’
‘Did you find out with the boys?’ Maggie asked.
The boys were James’s two sons from his first marriage. Liam was nine and Sam seven. Fatherhood hadn’t been easy first time around for her husband. The divorce had been amicable enough but the strain of his ex-wife moving to Portsmouth after she remarried had pushed him to his limits. The five-hundred-mile round trip to see his children or bring them up north for visits was hard going on all of them but thankfully, it was still worth James’s efforts as far Liam and Sam were concerned.
‘With Sam we did,’ James said. ‘But that was only to find out if we could reuse Liam’s baby clothes or needed to start saving up for dresses.’
‘OK, everything looks fine,’ the sonographer announced bringing them back to the present. ‘You were given a due date of 24 October and that matches my measurements so everything is going to plan.’
‘I suppose there’s no going back now,’ Maggie said, hoping that no one noticed the serious tone that had crept into what should have been a light quip.
‘And now that we know everything is as it should be,’ Mel added, ‘I’ve brought my Doppler with me to listen for baby’s heartbeat. It might be too early to pick up yet but I can give it a try if you want me to.’
Maggie was obliged to say yes but when Mel placed it on her abdomen and radio static filled the room, she fought the urge to push it away. Hearing the description of an image on screen was one thing but this was something else entirely. Maggie’s heartbeat quickened and the Doppler picked up her anxiety for all to hear but then there was another beat. It was only faint, much faster and impossible to ignore. Maggie steeled herself for the crushing wave of panic she expected but instead, indescribable warmth flooded her chest and took her breath away. The trembling smile was on her lips even before she realised that this was how motherhood was meant to feel and she prayed for the strength to hold onto that feeling.
As they left the hospital, Maggie and James didn’t say a word. Maggie held Harvey’s harness in one hand and James’s hand in the other. Her ears were straining for the faintest echo of the tiny heartbeat that had swept away weeks of fear and self-doubt. She wanted to laugh. Instead she began to cry.
Her tears slipped silently down her face and it was only as they reached the car that James noticed. ‘Are you all right?’
There was no alarm in his voice; in fact Maggie could detect a smile. Harvey was a little more difficult to reassure and whined nervously as he settled into the caged compartment at the back of the car. Maggie rubbed behind his ears. ‘It’s OK, Harvey. Mummy’s … happy.’
James cupped his hands around her face and wiped away the tears with his thumbs. ‘Are you?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Of course.’
‘It’s just what you said in there, about there being “no going back”. I got the feeling you weren’t so sure. In fact, I’ve been wondering that for a while. You’re not the closed book you like to think you are.’
Maggie took one of his hands and kissed it gently. The sense of euphoria was still running through her veins and it made her brave enough to confess some if not all of her hidden fears. ‘It’s more a matter of not feeling ready, that’s all. There are so many new things to learn,’ she said. ‘But when I heard that heartbeat, I felt such a rush of love and it took me by surprise. So yes, honestly, I am happy.’
As James wrapped her in his arms, Maggie buried her head into his broad shoulders. His six-foot frame towered over Maggie’s slender figure and even though he was thickset, it was more muscle than flab thanks to an active working life. He was a builder by trade, a gentle giant who would protect her and keep her safe but he had a vulnerable side too and it was this that had attracted her to him more than anything.
Maggie’s first impressions of James hadn’t come from his appearance but the timbre of his voice and he had sounded lost. His ex-wife had just broken the news about moving down south and he had been suffering from stress-related eczema. It was Kathy, the owner of the beauty salon where Maggie worked and a good friend of James’s mum, who had suggested he try aromatherapy. Kathy’s poorly disguised matchmaking had cured James’s ailments far more effectively than the myrrh and sandalwood Maggie had massaged into his hands.
She raised her head towards her husband. ‘And are you happy?’ It was the first time she had acknowledged that James’s reaction to the pregnancy had been as muted as her own.
‘Yes.’
‘Really?’ Maggie asked, not getting the confirmation she needed.
‘I love you, Maggie, and marrying you and having this baby is the answer to all my prayers, but if I’m being really honest, the prospect of becoming a dad again is scaring me. I don’t want to get it wrong this time.’
‘You didn’t get it wrong last time. You’re a good dad,’ Maggie countered.
‘And you are going to be a fantastic mother. I know you’re missing your mum right now but I’m sure Joan is still around watching over you.’
Maggie recalled the empty seat next to her on the park bench and the sensation of her hand cutting through fresh air. ‘Maybe,’ she said.
‘So now your mum knows, don’t you think it’s about time we tell the rest of our parents?’ James asked as he helped her into the car. It wasn’t necessary but she knew he would be just as attentive of his pregnant wife even if she had perfect vision.
‘I don’t suppose we can put it off forever.’
James didn’t answer. He closed the passenger door and walked around to his side of the car giving them both time to collect their thoughts. Maggie had already told him the night before about her encounter with Lorna, although she had been economical with the details, mentioning only that the news was out. James would have phoned his parents there and then if Judith and Ken hadn’t been away visiting their grandchildren in Portsmouth. He wanted to be the one to tell Liam and Sam and to reassure them that the baby wasn’t going to alter his relationship with them. He hadn’t needed to explain why it wasn’t a good idea to attempt that while Judith was around to offer her own opinions.
James slipped behind the steering wheel and as he straightened his jacket, she heard the rustle of paper. The baby scan photo was burning a hole in his pocket. ‘This is good news we’re sharing,’ he reminded her.
‘I know and I’d like to hold on to that thought for as long as I can but let’s be realistic, James. Some people will find it difficult to accept that a blind person could ever be a fit and proper parent.’
‘Telling Mum and Dad won’t be as bad as you think,’ he said, acknowledging who it was they were talking about.
‘Do you really believe that?’
The pause that followed confirmed that he accepted that it wouldn’t be easy. His parents had struggled from the very beginning to comprehend why their son would take on such a burden as Maggie and despite concerted effort on the part of the newlyweds, she was still a relative stranger to her in-laws.
Maggie and James had been dating for almost a year before he had plucked up the courage to introduce her to his family. Liam and Sam had been staying with James over the summer holidays and he had organised a family barbeque so they could all get to know each other. The boys were curious about Maggie and amazed at her ability to carry out simple day-to-day tasks that they tried to imitate with their eyes closed. Their initial questions were blunt but openly innocent and Maggie had been more amused than offended. Judith’s questioning, by comparison, had been more akin to a cross-examination.
‘OK, we both know Mum has her own ideas about what’s best for her family but maybe when she hears about the baby, she’ll finally …’
James didn’t dare finish
the sentence so Maggie finished it for him. ‘Accept me?’
‘She’s a good mum, Maggie. Overprotective of me, yes, but that’s only because she doesn’t want to see me hurt again. Maybe it would help if we spent more time with them.’
‘They seem to be able to find their way to Portsmouth far easier than the fifteen-mile trip from Nantwich. Your mum doesn’t like me, James. She doesn’t think I’m looking after you properly, she doesn’t think I can,’ Maggie said. She knew James was about to contradict her so she quickly added, ‘Take her reaction to finding out you make a packed lunch every morning. I was trying to explain how it’s to stop you pigging out on fast food but she was too busy being horrified that it was you making the lunch and not me.’ Maggie shook her head as if to free herself from a web of negative thoughts. ‘Even if I had perfect vision, I still wouldn’t live up to her expectations. No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be good enough because I’m not Carolyn.’
‘I know, you’re nothing like my ex-wife and I thank God for that,’ James said with undisguised relief. ‘And for the record, I’m more than happy to make my own lunch, thank you very much. You’d only make me eat even more healthily.’ He paused hopefully for a smile that wouldn’t come. ‘Look, they’ll be coming home soon. How about we invite them over for dinner on Saturday?’
Maggie let her body sag and as the car engine roared into life it drowned out the sound of the tiny heartbeat that had echoed across her mind. ‘With any luck they’ll turn you down as usual.’
James chose to ignore her petulance. ‘Maggie, it’s going to be fine.’
‘OK, invite them – but only on the condition that I can invite Jenny along too. She’s been looking for an excuse to leave Mark holding the baby for a change and besides, I’ll need reinforcements.’
‘I don’t want you worrying about this. It doesn’t matter what other people think. What matters is us, the three of us.’
Where I Found You Page 2