by Laura Kemp
Her eyes began to swim as she checked herself, to make sure she’d read it right. Blinking hard to stop the letters moving, she read them again, and again, trying to put together their meaning. Because it couldn’t be true, it absolutely couldn’t be.
Annie was reeling, the receipt was trembling. This couldn’t be right. Yet what else would explain it? The truth was here, in its cold precision, like the serrated edge of a blade. She was gasping for air, her legs were buckling and she began to stagger.
‘Annie, are you okay?’
Spike’s voice came from a million miles away and then boomed in her ears.
‘Oh my God,’ she heard herself saying out loud. Her eyes tried to focus, looking to make sense of everything, but it was all too bright.
‘Annie, speak to me,’ he said, his arms around her, his hand gently on her cheek.
‘I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘Now.’
‘Like this? I’ll come with you.’
Maybe it was a good idea to have him with her, in case something happened to her at the wheel.
‘Don’t make a scene,’ she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
With his hand at the back of her left arm, he steered her through the crowd, stopping only to tell Arthur to look after Teg, to stick with his mates, to find Wanda if he needed anything and to ring if there was a problem. He wouldn’t be long. In his van, Annie mechanically did up her seat belt and stuttered instructions to Spike to follow the road out of Gobaith and into the countryside. Rather than a seamless flow, the journey seemed like a photo reel of familiar trees, postboxes, houses and signposts interspersed with snatches of the letter swirling through her head. He didn’t press her for any details, any information. Instead he was reassuring her softly, telling her she was fine, she was okay and she was here with him. And when they pulled up, he simply said, ‘I’ll be here, Annie.’
She looked into his face, wanting to explain, except there were no words. They were all jumbled up. She couldn’t speak of something she didn’t understand. Only by doing this would she be capable of processing it all.
She nodded and got out, still clutching the piece of paper, which was now grey with sweat. A deep breath and she stood with the van door between her and Mrs Jenkins’s unblinking windows, which stared her out, defiant.
Something possessed Annie then. Years of rage spilled over. She slammed the door shut and walked slowly towards the pink and red-brick speckled terrace, squaring up to the silent net curtains, vowing she wouldn’t leave until she knew everything.
Up to the front door, with its shining knocker as if this woman was respectable. As if. She couldn’t even bring herself to touch it. She was breaking the rules by even standing at the doorstep. Her fist was clenching, raising and knocking the wood with her knuckles, not feeling the contact at all. It was like an out-of-body experience but she had to make it real – so this time she used the base of her hand and sounded a thud, and another, and then another, until the boom of her hand matched the boom in her head and in her heart.
There was no answer. She bent over and flipped up the letterbox, parting the brushes to see into the gloomy hallway.
‘Hello?’ she shouted. ‘Are you there?’
Annie’s eyes searched the gloomy hallway for a hint of a shadow.
‘I’m not leaving!’
And there was the sound of a shuffle of slippers on lino. A clink of ice against a glass which was shaking in the woman’s hand. A waft of cigarette smoke. A cleaning housecoat over her clothes. Long grey hair hanging lifelessly around her haggard face.
Annie hadn’t seen her for years. Not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because this woman wanted it this way. The only contact they had was through the garden and that was because Annie insisted on doing it. Hatred swelled up inside of her. How many times had she been watched, killing herself to try to make this place decent?
Like a warning, pain, anger and devastation seared through Annie – but the need to know was more powerful.
‘Has Dean been here?’ Annie yelled at her as sobs broke free. ‘Just tell me, Mam, tell me the truth.’
38
We had such a great time we wanted to stay on for bank holiday but it’s all booked out. We’ll definitely be back! Thanks for an amazing stay!
Cathy and Dave Saunders, Herts
Campsite Visitors’ Book
Wanda collapsed into her father’s comfy armchair, kicked off her flip-flops and let off an extravagant groan as she fell back against the headrest.
It was the final Friday of August – summer’s crescendo of bank holiday weekend was staring her in the face. Today had already been an absolute nightmare of changeovers, scrubbing and queries for both her and Mam. The site was as full as an egg. She just wanted to sleep. But it was only lunchtime. She had the rest of the day to get through, then tomorrow Under A Starry Sky was hosting a huge barbecue for campers and the community – why had she done this to herself? Stupidly, she’d come up with it the night she’d torn herself away from Lew’s Club Tropicana. Her groin growled at the memory of what she’d given up – not now, thank you. He was the one who’d said it was like a goodbye on the lobster lilos: she’d done the sensible thing and gone home. She wished she hadn’t: although she knew it was better all round she had. That saying, it’s better to regret something you have done than something you haven’t was all right if you didn’t have a round-the-world trip at stake. Wanda knew herself too well: to kiss Lew, to stay the night, would’ve conflicted her even more. It was too dangerous. The thank-you barbecue to the people of Gobaith was the preamble to her departure.
Even so, Lew was still under her skin. She had a horrible feeling he would be until she got on the plane. That meant there were thirty-three days to get through. And that prospect was a slap in the face on top of her exhaustion. Because now they had both acknowledged the chemistry between them, they were at the stage of exchanging heated glances – maybe she needed to wear science goggles and a boiler suit, that’d be a turn off. If she could just keep it together until October the first … then again, to be quite honest, if he came in here now butt naked, she was so tired she’d turn him down. Five minutes, that’s what she needed, she thought, sinking into velvet, her limbs heavy. But just as she was dropping off, she came to with an instinctive jolt. She’d sensed a change in the light in the lounge – not to be rude but Carys was so big she was capable of a total eclipse of the sun. Her sister was stood in front of her with a look on her face. There was excitement, fear and now a grimace. Wanda shot up out of her seat.
‘Is it happening, Caz?’ she cried before realising that excitement wasn’t helpful. She repeated it this time softly, her hand going to Carys’s back as her sister took hold of the chair’s arm and gurned.
‘I … think … so,’ she said, puffing her way through pain.
‘How long has this been going on? You poor thing!’
‘A … couple … of … hours.’ She began to pant. ‘Been … bouncing … on … my … ball … nyerargh!’
At the crest now, Carys was breathing deep and slow. Once it had passed, she said, ‘Because I thought they were Branston’s.’
Carys handed her phone over – she had a contraction app on the go and it was looking like they were regular and getting closer.
‘Any other signs?’
She nodded. ‘You don’t want to know, bowel-related, down-there stuff.’
‘Do you want to go to the hospital?’
Carys’s eyes widened and then she tried to look at her feet. ‘I think my waters have just broken.’
‘Right, come on, let’s go then. I’ll tell Mam to ring ahead. They did say to go in if this happened.’ Not just because they lived a good drive away but because it was twins.
‘Maybe Mam should go with me? What about the campsite?’
‘Shut up! I
’m not missing this! I’m your birthing partner!’
‘You sure?’ Carys looked so young and vulnerable. She couldn’t imagine how she would be feeling, about to bring two babies into the world without the father. Still no word from him and it had broken Wanda’s heart. Thank goodness she hadn’t told Carys about her efforts to track him down.
‘There’s plenty of people Mam can call on if she needs help. I’ve done all the hard stuff, she just needs to book people in. Honestly. And if anyone moans then they can do one. Let’s get in the car, I’ll get your bag.’
And then, as Carys waddled off, Wanda gave a prayer – first of thanks for letting the twins get to almost thirty-seven weeks and then another asking for them to be delivered safely. One thing was for certain, if this came to nothing then Carys would probably end up being induced. Trying to keep herself calm was going to be hard until they got to the maternity unit. As she went around gathering what Carys needed, she could feel her dramatic tendencies battering to be released but for once, Wanda would refuse to entertain them. She found Mam, who offered to go instead because it was a messy business, giving birth.
‘I want to do this, I need to, for her,’ Wanda said meaningfully, communicating what they had discussed between them on many occasions: Wanda would play the part of the dad if it came to it.
‘Of course,’ Mam said, close to tears. ‘And put a towel on the seat, will you? I’ve only just had the Land Rover cleaned.’
That was why Wanda had to be with Carys. Mam would only say something totes inappropes when push came to shove. Wanda was glad to report Mam’s valeting concerns to Carys as she reversed out of the campsite. It gave them some light relief until the next contraction came along. And the next. At the hospital, the midwives were waiting for them, and Wanda had never felt more relieved for Carys and for her own worry: being in the hands of the professionals – and their latex gloves, monitors and soothing voices – meant Wanda could concentrate on her job. While Carys was examined and the delivery suite buzzed with staff, she set about doing what she could to match the birth plan, producing Carys’s requested extra-large Nirvana T-shirt, cueing up the playlist of indie classics, lining up snacks on the side and rubbing Annie’s herbal massage oil between her hands to warm it up. It was all progressing nicely, the first baby was head down, there seemed to be no issues preventing a vaginal birth. This would go swimmingly!
Except hours later, when the gas and air had come out, Carys was told she was still only in the early stages of labour. Wanda had to control her shock. Carys was in so much agony – to think there were potentially hours and hours to go until she had dilated enough. An epidural would only be given when labour was established. No doubt if Mam had been here she’d have said, ‘No pain, no gain.’ Not even that made Carys laugh this time. She was too busy being sick. The language around them began to change, the comings and goings of nurses and doctors increased, a drip was on stand-by, there were mentions of forceps, C-sections and emergencies. The twins’ bag of tiny nappies, babygros and hats and mitts remained unzipped in the corner and Wanda began to feel frightened. Out of that came anger at Danny flaming Platt. If he could see what he’d caused, if he could see what Carys was going through … she’d like to show him some forceps, right in the trouser department.
‘Why don’t you go and get something to eat?’ one of the midwives, Sam, said around nine after she suggested a bath for Carys to tide her over until she was ready for a visit from the anaesthetist.
‘I don’t want to leave her,’ Wanda said quietly.
‘We’ll look after her.’ Sam said it kindly and it made Wanda feel ridiculous.
‘I’m sorry, I’m just scared.’
‘We’re here for your sister. You need to look after you. It’s going to be a long night. Now, don’t worry, she’s in the best hands. We’ll get her through it.’
She was right. ‘Caz, I’m just popping to the canteen,’ she said brightly. ‘Want anything?’
With tired eyes, Carys said, ‘Vodka and tonic?’
‘There’s champers in the bag for after, all right?’ Wanda blew her a kiss and waved cheerily. ‘I won’t be long.’
As soon as she’d got out of the room, though, she slumped against the wall and put her head in her hands. This was all so unfair! If she could swap places with Carys, she would. It was quite the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen. How had human life continued? Why did women have to go through this? She felt helpless – she knew it was self-indulgent but she began to cry. Wanda had to get away from the door in case Carys heard, so she made her way out of the maternity department, catching night falling through a window. She had to ring Mam but she’d left her phone in the room. She couldn’t go back. No way. A strong cup of coffee and a sandwich was what she needed to pull herself together. Tears were still falling and she berated herself for being so weak. ‘For God’s sake,’ she said under her breath; if only she had some back-up. But Mam would be in bed by now – okay, she wouldn’t be sleeping, but how would she get here? There was no one else who could help. Cursing, she let herself out of the department and was stomping down the corridor angrily when she got to the swing door – only for it to suddenly fly open at her. Incensed and ready to give a ‘watch where you’re going’, she fell mute. He was here! Danny Platt was here!
‘I’ve been ringing!’ he cried, breathless with urgency. ‘Your mum gave me your number. Where is she?’
‘It’s you!’ she said, clasping her hands to her face.
‘Yes! Where’s Carys? How is she, how are the babies? I can’t believe I’m saying babies, I’m going to be a dad!’ Anxious, in shock and then joy, he was going through the emotions like he was chain-smoking a pack of fags.
‘I never ever thought you’d come! This is beyond!’ she sang, hugging him, her spirits soaring at his arrival. ‘Follow me.’ She swivelled on the spot and they began a quick march. Then something awful occurred to her. ‘Oh God, my mother must’ve broken it to you.’
‘She did give me a bit of a telling off,’ he said, grinning, his teeth looking pearly up against his tanned skin.
‘You haven’t been in prison then? I did wonder.’
‘What?’
‘You disappeared. Your aunt wouldn’t say where you were. Where’ve you been? You haven’t got a wife and kids have you? I better check before you see her.’
‘No! Don’t be daft! I explained this to Lyn. I tried to ring Carys after I’d left in December – but there was no answerphone. I thought Carys had my number so I gave up, I thought she was playing hard to get. Then as the days passed, I thought about a letter – but when she didn’t call, I just assumed she wasn’t interested. I was gutted. The office had an opportunity in India, to get some call centre training. I thought, why not. I got back this morning. There was a note from my aunty waiting for me – to call you. I didn’t want to risk it ringing out again so I got in the camper van and came down. I thought, what the ’eck, and now I’m going to be a dad of twins!’
‘Not for a while, I’m afraid.’ She filled him in and once she’d verified to reception he was who he said he was, Wanda went back in to see Carys alone. But she wasn’t there and her mind began to spiral out of control. She dashed out and the midwife caught sight of her from another door. ‘She’s in here.’
Wanda peered round and saw her sister finally looking less peaky. The bath was like a cocoon; her sister had always loved the water, and Carys seemed to have bounced back a little.
‘The drugs are good!’ she smiled, holding the gas and air mouthpiece aloft, looking like the winner of the Miss Wet T-Shirt While Pregnant competition.
‘Listen, before the next contraction comes, I’ve got something to tell you. Danny’s here, he’s waiting outside, I found him, and he’s just turned up. If you want me to tell him to wait, that’s f—’
‘You what?’ Carys’s jaw dropped. ‘Get him in here now, I need someone to s
hout at! And you go home. I mean it, I couldn’t have got this far without you. But go, see Mam. Get some sleep.’
‘Sure?’
‘Positive,’ she said, her eyebrows starting to lower as the rollercoaster of pain ploughed on.
Wanda leaned down to give her a peck with an ‘I love you’, then ushered in the father, who dropped to his knees and kissed Carys over and over, sending them both weeping.
‘My God, you’re beautiful,’ he said.
She took his hand, then a breath of gas and air, moaning as agony consumed her.
‘Oh Danny,’ she said tenderly as she came around, putting her forehead to his, ‘you absolute wanker! Where the hell have you been?’
Wanda stepped back and left them to it, retreating from their reunion in the most bizarre of circumstances. What a day, what an almost-nine months. What a turn-up! She felt guilty that she could leave but then this was right, this was how it should be. She went to Carys’s room, found her bag and her phone, which had been on silent. There were millions of missed calls. Messages galore. Voicemails: Mam asking what was happening, Mam shouting Danny had come, Mam telling her off for not picking up. Then one from Lew.
‘We’ve done it!’ he said, with a busy background, ‘it’s official! The mountain! It really is a mountain. Just by an inch. They got back to me!’
Wanda punched the air as she left the hospital.
‘We’re in the Travellers’ Rest, celebrating.’
So that’s what the noise was.
‘Come down if you can. If you see Annie, let her know. I’ve been trying to get hold of her for days now but haven’t heard anything.’
Oh, yes, Annie had gone quiet. She’d left the community garden produce sale quickly, Wanda remembered seeing her leave with Spike. Wanda hadn’t given it a thought at the time but now she was puzzled. Because she hadn’t turned up to do the grass this week. And Annie was like clockwork.