by Lisa Hobman
With her eyes fixed on mine she ground her arse back into him as I watched. My heart rate picked up and my hands balled into fists by my sides. I clenched my jaw. This was our song. What was she playing at? The guy leaned down and began to kiss her neck as she closed her eyes for a moment. I stopped moving my feet and raised my clenched fists, ready to fly at him. When her eyes opened, she licked her lips at me. The bastard lifted his hand and ran it up her top, grabbing her breast. What the hell? Confusion and anger washed over me in equal measures. Why was she doing this? She fixed her hooded gaze on me as he fondled her and my nostrils flared.
I was ready to kill him.
Two can play this game, lady. I grabbed the brunette that was dancing beside me and had desperately been trying to get my attention for the last twenty minutes. I put my arms around her, slid my hands down to her arse and squeezed. She gazed up at me and slipped her arms around my shoulders. I glanced over at Alice, who was frowning now. Ha! Not liking the taste of your own medicine, eh? She turned round and stuck her tongue down the guy’s throat and I just about hit the roof.
Without thinking, I shoved the brunette aside, lunged forward, and punched the bastard in the face; knocked him out cold. After that I stormed out of the place. I’d had enough. I just couldn’t figure her out. I thought we meant something.
I heard footsteps behind me and someone grabbed my arm. I swung around and was met with an angry stare. ‘What the hell was that in there, Greg?’ she shouted in my face.
‘I could ask you the same question! What were you doing?’ I shouted back, raising my hands in exasperation.
‘I wanted you to watch, Greg. I wanted you to see that other men find me attractive. You’re so into your music that you ignore me! Well, you won’t do that again, will you?’ A manic grin appeared on her face. What the hell was wrong with her?
‘I don’t want to watch you with another fucking man. What kind of sick pervert do you think I am, eh?’
Her laughter was filled with derision. ‘Oh, come on, Greg. Don’t be such a prude.’
‘What man would want to see that? You’re my girlfriend, Al, not his.’
At that her eyes widened. And then out of nowhere she drew her hand back and punched me. A right hook to my left cheek. I staggered backwards, holding my face.
She lurched towards me angrily. ‘You don’t own me, Greg. I’m not an object. I’m a person. Don’t ever act like I belong to you again. If I want to dance with another man, I’ll do it.’
I stood there open-mouthed as she rubbed her hand and began to cry. For some unknown reason I felt sorry for her. She was insecure even though I’d never given her reason to be.
I pulled her into my arms and held her tight. ‘Hey, come on. What’s all this about, Al? Eh?’
She sobbed into my chest and clung to my shirt. ‘I wanted your attention. That’s all. You’ve been spending so much time playing music with the guys that I felt neglected. I wanted to teach you a lesson.’
My face crumpled in confusion and I pulled away to gaze into her bloodshot eyes. ‘Alice, you’ve been at every jam session with me when I’ve been playing. I haven’t been ignoring you at all.’
‘But… I want you to myself sometimes.’ She hiccupped.
I stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her. My cheek was throbbing and I was a little freaked out by what had just happened, but I put it down to the drink.
Sadly, it wasn’t the only time she struck me in anger. But for some reason unbeknownst to me, I put up with her temper. I think I kidded myself that I loved her. The next big blow, however, wasn’t a physical one.
We’d been together just over a year…
*
There was a knock on the door to my room and I threw down my pen. I’d been trying to compose a song for the band I was setting up with my best mate, Connell, but my head was filled with cotton wool thanks to a serious lack of sleep. I wasn’t expecting anyone and almost decided to ignore the intrusion. But the person knocked again, softly this time, and I went and answered it.
Alice stood in the doorway, her eyes were red-rimmed and she twisted a tissue in her hands. I inhaled sharply. ‘Hey, what’s wrong, babe?’
‘Oh, Greg, I’m so sorry.’ She flung her arms around my neck and sobbed into my T-shirt. I lifted her from the ground and walked into my small room. Placing her on the bed, I sat beside her, moving my notes out of the way.
I tilted her chin up so that her eyes met mine. ‘Please tell me what’s wrong, Alice. You’re worrying me.’
‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry.’ Her slurred words were interspersed with body-shaking sobs. Dread filled me. She’d had an affair. I was sure of it. After the way things had gone with us recently, I was beginning to think we weren’t meant to be.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging beneath my skin as I thought about her being unfaithful. I hated the idea. She should’ve dumped me first. ‘Alice, just tell me.’
‘I’m… Greg… I’m four weeks pregnant.’
Chapter Twelve
My mouth fell open and I could swear my heart stopped for a split second. I let go of her and stood up, running my hands through my hair. I peered down at her, sitting there, sobbing. She looked… broken. I rubbed my hands over my face and let out a long huff of air. What the hell did we do now?
She gazed up at me. ‘You have to know, Greg, that I didn’t mean for this to happen.’
‘But… you’re on the pill. I don’t… I don’t get it, Alice… How…?’
She shrugged. ‘They don’t always work. They’re only… like… 90-something per cent reliable.’
‘Fuck.’ The word fell out of my mouth as I closed my eyes. This was my worst nightmare come true. I loved sex. Couldn’t get enough of it. But I had never expected this. I thought that we were protected. Fucking idiot.
I sat beside her again and leaned my elbows on my knees. ‘What… erm… what do we do now?’
‘I have no idea, Greg. I’m so scared.’ I turned to see her lip trembling and my heart broke. This was my fault. I’d done this. I know they say it takes two to tango, but I should’ve worn condoms as well. This was a stupid male pride thing. I hated condoms. And she was my first, so I knew I wouldn’t give her anything. Pregnancy never entered my thoughts.
Until now.
It was time to step up and be a man. I had some major decisions to make, but I had to be an adult and grow a pair of metaphorical bollocks. Ironic thought pattern, considering the mess my actual bollocks had got me into. Shit… Me… a daddy? No way.
We sat there in silence for a long while until Alice stood. ‘I think I should go, Greg. We both need time to adjust. And then we need to decide the way forward.’
I stood before her and cupped her face in my hands.
‘Marry me.’ The words fell out of my mouth before I’d really thought them through – and as soon as they had, I clamped my stupid mouth shut.
Her face lit up. ‘What? Greg, are you serious?’
No going back now. ‘Well… we’re going to have a baby and… we need to make a proper commitment. We need to be a family for this little one,’ I said, sliding my hand down across her tummy.
Tears spilled over her chocolate-brown eyes and she hugged me hard. ‘Oh, Greg, you’ve made me so happy. I thought I was going to have to get rid of it. I thought we’d be over. But… Oh, Greg.’
‘No, no, we’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.’ I said it for my benefit more than for Alice’s. What the hell had I done? Idiot! I was twenty and not ready to be either a husband or a father.
*
We stood outside Oban register office as Connell snapped photos. Alice’s friend Anna did the same. I forced smiles and cringed as Alice clung to me and posed for the camera. Her simple wedding band was flashed at the lens in every shot. She was so proud of it. We’d gone for silver bands as we couldn’t afford gold. Connell and Anna had been our witnesses, and the ceremony had been over in fifteen minutes. We’d decided to get wed
before Alice’s bump started to show and she couldn’t fit into a nice dress.
She wore a white knee-length summer dress with pale blue flowers dotted all over it. She carried a bunch of fake blue flowers and had put one in her hair too. It all felt so contrived… so pretentious. But what could I do? I’d got the girl pregnant; the least I could do was marry her. A table was booked for the four of us to eat at our favourite Chinese restaurant to celebrate the marriage.
The meal was good, but for some reason my stomach was unsettled. I felt as if a thousand tiny elephants were stampeding through my intestines or learning to bloody tap-dance in there. Something was off. I couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that had taken hold. I just wished I could explain it.
Later that night when we got back to my room in digs, Alice stripped down to her white lacy underwear and stood before me. I’d had a bottle and a half of wine to myself and was feeling sleepy.
‘Greg,’ she whispered into my ear as I lay sprawled on my bed.
‘Mmmm?’
‘I want to make love with my new husband.’ She slid her hand down my body and gripped me through my black trousers. ‘Don’t you want me anymore? Is it because I’m getting fat?’ Her voice was a little whiny, and I opened my eyes to see that she had removed her underwear and her curves were on display for me. Only for me. She pouted as she trailed her fingers up and down my torso.
Suddenly I felt wide awake.
We consummated the marriage that night… twice. As I said before, I’m a man. But I felt a little empty inside. I was starting to wonder about things. Alice hadn’t been suffering morning sickness at all. She was surprisingly well for someone who was going through early pregnancy for the first time. As she snuggled into my side and fell asleep, I lay awake.
*
Time was passing at a rate of knots but Alice and I had been getting on well. She was very horny… more than normal. She said it was down to her pregnancy hormones. Obviously, I didn’t complain; sex between us always had been great. And to top it off, I was getting excited at the prospect of being a daddy. The thought of having a mini version of me and Alice to look after and care for somehow gave purpose to my life.
My daydreams were all about the baby. Who would he or she look like? Would we have a daughter or a son? Would our child love music as much as I did? Would I be able to change a nappy without vomiting? More to the point, would I be able to change a nappy? How would I cope on even less sleep? None of it mattered. As long as the baby was healthy, I’d be happy and I’d love him or her unconditionally. The fact that this was all unexpected began to mean less and less until it faded into insignificance and I even began to coo over babies I saw in the street. I was turning into a sap and I just didn’t care.
But all that said, something was niggling at the back of my mind. We were four months into the pregnancy and she still hadn’t been sick. Now, I’m an intelligent man and I know that every pregnancy is different. But my research had told me that Alice was in the minority with her lack of symptoms. I decided at the next opportunity I’d sit her down and ask her if everything was okay.
Maybe she’d been hiding her sickness? I knew she could be insecure and I wondered if perhaps she was scared of showing her vulnerability in front of me. She needed to know that I wasn’t like that. I also felt that maybe I needed to attend her appointments with her. Up to that point she had only told me about them after the fact. And I was a wee bit disappointed that I hadn’t seen a scan but I had no real clue how these things worked. To top it off I had no point of reference; no one to ask. I worried that maybe the baby wasn’t growing enough, seeing as her belly was still quite flat. She’d gained a bit of weight admittedly, but she’d been eating more crap, saying that the baby was craving stuff. Was I mug for believing her? That was it. I needed some questions to be answered. I needed to be involved and if we were going to be a proper family she needed to stop shutting me out.
It was a Friday night and we were sitting in our new digs. A room in a shared house that was large enough for a double bed and a cot. We hadn’t discussed what would happen when the baby arrived. Who would look after the infant whilst we were in our final year at university? Would one of us have to drop out? Every time I broached the subject, she shrugged it off, saying we had plenty of time to think about things like that. But it was all I could think about.
I’d just made coffee for me and decaf tea for Alice. I craved a beer, but I was staying off drink out of respect for her. As we watched TV like an old married couple, a show about holidays came on. We watched as beaches appeared and scantily clad, tanned bodies strolled around on the screen.
Alice had a light-bulb moment. ‘Oh, I forgot to mention that I’m booked to go to Amsterdam for a weekend with the girls for my birthday.’
I glanced over at her. ‘But your birthday is in December. Won’t you have other things going on then? When are you actually going?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, it’s not until the new year.’
‘Okay.’ I mulled over what she’d said. ‘Erm… you do know you’ll be heavily pregnant and on the verge of giving birth in the new year, don’t you?’
Her head swivelled in my direction. ‘I… erm… I…’ Her face turned beet red.
‘Alice?’ I glared at her, waiting for some logical explanation as to why she’d forgotten she was carrying my child.
She laughed and shrugged. ‘Oh, silly me. I meant in the spring.’
‘But by then we’ll have a new baby, Alice.’ Suspicion spiked within me.
‘Yeah… yeah, but you’ll be fine for a few days, eh?’
I stared at her. What the hell was going on? ‘No, Alice. No, I won’t be okay being left whilst you go off on a weekend piss-up with your mates.’ The volume of my voice rose exponentially.
She huffed sulkily and turned away from me. ‘I need a drink. Got any wine?’
‘Alice. That’s not funny. You know I gave up alcohol too. Unless… is there something you need to tell me?’
She stood up and put her hands on her hips. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean, Greg?’
Standing to face her, I stared into her eyes, hoping to see something genuine. ‘It means, Alice, that something’s not right here.’
She folded her arms and snorted. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Pardon me for being suspicious, but… you are four months pregnant, and you haven’t been sick once. I haven’t seen a scan picture and you haven’t invited me to any of your pre-natal appointments. You’re planning a holiday for when you’re supposed to be delivering our baby, and you’re craving wine when you’re nervous.’
She opened and closed her mouth like a dying goldfish. I waited for her explanation. I waited and waited. And waited some more.
She slumped onto the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. ‘It… it was a false alarm.’
‘What?’ My calm voice belied the increasing rate of my heart and the sweating of my clenched palms.
‘My period came a week after I told you. But you’d already asked me to marry you. And… I was so happy, so I kept up with the pretence, Greg.’ She lifted her eyes up to meet mine, and tears were running down her face.
I tried to swallow but my throat was closing up. I just stared at her. My heart squeezed in my chest. I’d thought I wasn’t ready to be a dad, but gradually over the past few months I’d got used to the idea. I’d actually been looking at babies in a whole new light and feeling excited. Yet here she was shattering the illusion and breaking my heart.
I pulled out the desk chair and carefully lowered my shaking body to it. ‘You mean you lied to me?’
‘No! No, Greg. I wanted it to be true. I tried so hard to make it true.’ Her desperation was almost palpable.
‘That’s why you’ve wanted sex so much. Not because of pregnancy hormones.’
‘No… I wanted it to be true, Greg. I needed it to be true. I was terrified of losing you.’ She came across the room and dropped to her knees before
me. ‘I can’t lose you, Greg. You’re my world.’
Her empty words meant nothing to me. Although I heard them, the sentiment was devoid of genuine feeling, and in that moment I hated her. My heart was trying to burst through my chest and escape the space I reluctantly shared with her in that moment.
‘But there’s no baby. You let me think I was going to be a dad. I married you so we could be a proper little family,’ I whispered. Having my fears confirmed hurt more than any physical pain I’d ever experienced. I’d hoped, beyond hope, that she’d have some logical explanation. Like pregnancy brain or some other crazy thing that pregnant women went through.
But here she was, taking all of my dreams of fatherhood and stamping all over them in her fake leather stiletto boots, piercing holes in my heart with her words as she admitted her despicable lies and deceit. The fact that she could justify what she had done in her sick little mind by telling me how much she loved me made me want to vomit.
She sobbed and clung to my hands as I stared blankly at our entwined fingers. ‘I did… and I’m so, so sorry. But we can get pregnant, Greg. We can try. We can make it work. We can have a baby. As soon as you want to try, we can try.’
I stood and pulled my hands free from hers. ‘I need to get out of here. I need… I need time to think.’ I grabbed my coat and my Walkman and stormed out.
Chapter Thirteen
It was eleven at night after Alice had dropped her bombshell and I trawled the streets as the lyrics to ‘Big Empty’ by Stone Temple Pilots resonated deep within me as the singer talked about lies and creating distance. I bit back the threatening tears as I walked, pounding the pavement, trying to clear my head.
It wasn’t working.
I called into the off-licence and bought the cheapest bottle of whisky I could find and then, after half an hour of wandering aimlessly, I entered the local park and found a bench. Pulling the bottle of amber liquid out of the brown paper bag, I sat there swigging from the neck like some alcoholic with nowhere to go.