“Let’s have some tea,” she said. “There’s milk in the fridge.”
Katie smiled. Of course there was. Rachel was always so well organized. “You sit down. I’ll do it.”
Rachel shrugged off her coat and sank onto the sofa with a sigh. “It’s supposed to be another three weeks, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the Bean came early.”
Over the long months of isolation in Antarctica, Katie had followed the course of Rachel’s pregnancy via email and the occasional session on Skype. “The Bean” was a nickname that had been thought up by Rachel’s daughter Chloe, and it had stuck.
Katie put the kettle on and turned to look at Rachel.
“The Bean kicks for England. Sometimes wonder if I’ve got a future world-cup footballer in here.” She was sitting with a hand on her belly and the tenderness on her face made Katie’s heart turn over.
That was when it hit her – a sense of being on the outside looking in, a yearning not just for a baby, but for everything that Rachel had: her settled place in the world, her marriage to Daniel, not without its difficulties but solid all the same, and adorable little Chloe – and her work, too. Rachel was a woodworker specializing in restoration, a fulfilling occupation. Even her faith seemed to give her an anchor in the world that Katie felt she lacked.
Whereas Katie... Would she ever have a child? She was younger than Rachel, who was in her early forties, but all the same, she would be thirty-six soon. There was time; of course there was. But just how much time for someone who wasn’t even in a settled relationship? Or possibly not even in a relationship at all. She had met someone out on the ice, but what might come of it, she didn’t know.
The next moment she was chiding herself, because she knew that Rachel was often taxed to the limit of her strength. Six-year-old Chloe had a serious genetic disorder, Diamond Blackfan Anaemia (DBA), which meant that her body could not make red blood cells. The precious baby that Rachel was carrying offered the hope of a cure for Chloe if he or she should happen to be a match. But the chances were only one in four and they didn’t know yet. Rachel and Daniel had refused pre-natal testing. It carried a risk of miscarriage, and what was the point? Rachel wouldn’t have countenanced having a termination, and Katie understood that. The chances of Rachel conceiving a second child had been vanishingly small, so even if she and Daniel hadn’t had ethical objections. This was almost a miracle pregnancy and it wouldn’t happen again. All they could do was wait and hope.
“Katie? Katie?”
Katie came to herself. “What? Yes?”
“You were miles away. The kettle’s boiled.”
“Oh, sorry!”
She made the tea and settled down beside Rachel on the sofa.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” Rachel said. “And you must absolutely feel free to say no. And I know it’s rather late in the day, but it wasn’t something I wanted to ask in an email or on Skype, so –”
“Rachel! Just spit it out!”
“OK. Will you be my birthing partner?”
Katie hadn’t been expecting that. For a few moments she couldn’t speak.
Rachel misinterpreted her silence. “Like I said, you mustn’t feel you have to –”
“No, no!” Katie interrupted. “You just took me by surprise. I hadn’t thought – yes, of course!” She took Rachel’s hand, squeezed it and felt an answering squeeze. “Oh, wow! I’m just really touched. This is so cool.” A thought occurred to her. “What about Daniel? He’s OK with that?”
“To be honest, I think he was relieved when I suggested it. After last time. He’ll be around, of course, but – honestly – I suspect you’ll be supporting him as much as me; maybe more.”
Katie nodded her understanding. When Chloe was born, Rachel had suffered a post-partum haemorrhage after a caesarean section and had nearly died. Daniel had been in the operating theatre and had been so traumatized by the experience that he hadn’t wanted Rachel to get pregnant again.
Rachel went on. “It makes sense, too, because it means he can take care of Chloe. As you know, we don’t have any in-laws handy. I’ve got friends who’d step in, but it’s nicer for Chloe to have her dad.”
“I’m so flattered.”
“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side. I was wondering – you don’t have to have any medical experience to be a birthing partner, but I’m guessing that when you were doing your medical degree –”
“Yes, I did a spell on obstetrics.”
After her medical degree Katie had chosen the path of research and had never finally qualified. At least her medical background meant that whatever happened she felt confident of coping. In any case Rachel would receive special attention, given the complications of her first delivery, and Katie would only be there in a supporting role. And the local maternity hospital had an excellent reputation. Thinking of that, she said, “They’ll take good care of you at the Rosie.”
“I know.”
“Are you having a C-section again?”
“I hope not. They said I could try for a normal delivery, and that it might even be less risky than another C-section.”
They sat quietly together. Katie was conscious of what a huge event lay ahead of Rachel, with so much resting on it, and guessed that Rachel was thinking the same.
Then Rachel looked at her watch. “Is that the time? I’ll need to leave in a few minutes to collect Chloe. Katie?” She seemed about to say something else, but hesitated.
“Mmm?”
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You seem different somehow.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, for one thing, you keep stopping in the middle of what you’re doing and gazing off into the distance.”
“Do I? I didn’t realize.”
“After what happened in Antarctica...”
Yes, after what had happened in Antarctica. Two people had died on the base and it had been a life-or-death struggle for the rest of them to survive. That would change anyone, but she wouldn’t say that she had been traumatized by it. Something about the way they had all had to work together, their closeness and reliance on each other, had helped them to come through relatively unscathed. Or had it? Perhaps there would be repercussions after all that would make themselves felt long after the events.
“It must have had an impact,” she admitted. “But I think in any case it would be difficult adjusting to the outside world after being in Antarctica. I’m sleeping really badly. I still haven’t got back into a proper routine – and it’s not just the jet lag. It’s having lived through a night that went on for six months.”
Rachel hoisted herself off the sofa. “Well, if you need to talk, I’m here. You know that. Come over at about six and we’ll have supper.”
“Can I cook for you?”
“No, no. Daniel’s cooking tonight. But thanks.”
Rachel put her coat on and they went together up the stairs to the wheelhouse. Katie helped her off the boat and they embraced.
Rachel said, “I’m so glad you said yes. We can talk about it more later.”
Katie wrapped her arms round herself against the cold and watched Rachel make her way down the towpath under the weeping willows, a stalwart figure. At the bend in the path, Rachel turned and waved. Katie waved back, then went back down into the warmth of the saloon.
She poured herself another cup of tea and sat down to think.
Katie had first met Rachel when she was doing research into a therapy for DBA. She had made some headway, but a cure was still a long way off. As a result of her work, she knew a great deal about the disease and she was very conscious that there was something they hadn’t talked about: the risk that the new baby would also have DBA. Katie wasn’t sure if it was because Rachel didn’t want to or because she wasn’t aware of it. Yet, that seemed unlikely. When she became pregnant, she and Daniel would surely have been offered genetic counselling.
The
boat rocked in the wake of a passing cruiser and Katie came to herself. She had drifted off into a kind of fugue again. And this time it must have lasted perhaps quarter of an hour – her cup of tea was stone cold.
There was a name for this: “winter-over syndrome”. It was likely that it was to some degree hormonal, due to the lack of sunlight in a six-month Antarctic winter, and possibly psychological, too, the effect of being cooped up with a small group of people in a confined space, cut off completely for months on end, with vast expanses of ice stretching out for hundreds of miles in all directions. Katie’s mum had remarked on it, too. Katie would find herself drifting away, her voice trailing off in mid-sentence. She knew there was a vagueness and absent-mindedness in her thinking that hadn’t been there before. But it would only be temporary – she hoped.
Of course, she realized now, Rachel and Daniel would not have had the test. Once they had decided that they would have the baby no matter what, why would they? What good would it do to know?
As with the question of whether the baby was a match for Chloe, Rachel would have been content to leave it in the lap of the gods, or rather of God. And Daniel would have gone along with that.
Her phone buzzed. When she saw who the text was from her heart gave a little jump. So Justin was back.
The text said, “The Rivoli Bar at the Ritz, 5 p.m. on Thursday? Justin. xx.”
Her reply was equally to the point: “You bet. xx.”
CHAPTER 3
It was dark when Katie left the boat. It had taken her a quarter of an hour to decide what to wear. She couldn’t help feeling that it was quite unnecessary to have so much choice and she did miss the simplicity of life in Antarctica, where everyone wore jeans and a T-shirt every day and that was that.
She made her way along the towpath towards Rachel and Daniel’s little Georgian house, only five minutes’ walk away on Quayside, guided in the dark by her mobile phone. She passed someone walking a dog, but otherwise it was deserted and only a few of the boats had lights. She could hear them creaking at their moorings. At the feeding place for the ducks, Canada geese – pale grey shapes in the dark – were settling down for the night. She was glad to reach the houses. From a lit floor-length window a black and white cat watched her go past.
Then she was at Rachel and Dan’s house, rapping the door knocker in the shape of an anchor. Rachel opened the door almost immediately. The downstairs was one big room with the kitchen opening off it. There was a delicious smell of what she guessed was a Bolognese sauce simmering.
Rachel said, “I’ve got a surprise for you. Guess who’s here!”
From a chair by the fireplace a long, lean figure unfolded itself.
“Lyle!” Katie exclaimed.
Rachel said, “Daniel rang earlier and said he’d be bringing him home for supper.”
Daniel was a patent lawyer specializing in biomed, whose firm in Ely got many of their clients from Silicon Fen, one of the most important technology clusters in Europe. It was a hub that attracted lawyers, big consultancy firms, and venture capitalists – like Lyle Linstrum.
He was a larger than life figure – a tall, rangy Texan nearing sixty – who always wore cowboy boots and looked as if he should be wearing a Stetson. Journalists liked to make much of his ranch and his horsemanship. Photos of Lyle on horseback wearing chaps and rounding up steers were endlessly recycled whenever he was mentioned in the financial pages of the quality papers.
He wasn’t just a money man. He was also a former academic, a scientist whose interest now was in the development of discoveries rather than toiling away in the lab. And for Katie he was also an old friend, the father of her best friend at university.
“Hey,” he said. “I’d have given you a ride from London if I’d known. But it was a spur of the moment thing. Didn’t know myself until lunchtime.”
He came over and enveloped her in a bear hug.
Of course she had been well aware that Daniel had handled patent work for Lyle on more than one occasion, but she was struck by how much at home he was here in this family setting. It wasn’t just a professional relationship; they were friends now. For a moment she felt aggrieved. How had this happened without her knowing? Rachel and Daniel were her friends!
She remembered something the base commander had told her: “When you’re out here it’s as if you’ve stepped off the world. And when you get back on, it won’t be like you left it. Everyone will have moved on – except you.” And that was true. Rachel was about to have her baby, Daniel had been made a partner in his firm. Whereas for Katie it was almost as if time had stood still.
And in that moment, something happened. It was as if a switch had been thrown and time had actually stood still, or as though a glass panel had appeared between her and the rest of the room. She saw these people who were her friends and the room that was so familiar, but it all seemed strange. She felt separate, detached, as if she was looking at a stage set and the people she thought she knew were only actors. They were not real. None of it was real.
Then there was a movement at the top of the stairs that led to the first floor and Chloe appeared in her nightdress. As suddenly as the sense of alienation had begun, it ended. Time began again and with it came a flood of emotion. These were her dear friends and she was so happy to see them.
Chloe looked at Katie and gave her a shy smile, then her gaze shifted to Lyle and her face lit up. She came rushing down the stairs, almost tumbling in her haste, and ran to him. He swept her up and lifted her high. She squealed with delight. As he put her back on her feet, she said, “I want you to read me a story.”
Rachel must have caught the expression on Katie’s face. She said, “Ten months is a very long time when you are only six.”
Lyle had picked up on it too. For all his brashness he was good at reading people.
He said, “Hey, but Chloe, look who’s here! It’s Katie. She’s back from the South Pole.”
Katie fumbled in her bag and brought out Penguin, the small soft toy she had taken to Antarctica. Chloe and her class at school had been following the blog posts that Katie had written in his name.
Chloe switched her attention to Katie. She reached for Penguin and clutched him to her. “I want to go to Antarctica!”
“I’ve got this book about a little girl who does go to Antarctica.” Katie took Sophie Scott Goes South by Alison Lester out of her bag. “I’ve brought it all the way from Australia for you.”
Rachel said, “Would you like Katie to read the story to you while I do your infusion?”
Chloe nodded. She slipped her hand in Katie’s and the three of them went upstairs to Chloe’s bedroom.
Katie sat down on the bed and Chloe climbed onto her lap. Katie opened the book and began to read. “‘I’m going to Antarctica and I can’t wait. Sophie Scott is only nine years old...’”
By the time they were a few pages into the book, Chloe’s shyness had gone. She had curled up into the crook of Katie’s arm and was listening, spellbound.
While Chloe was distracted, Rachel lifted up her nightdress and swabbed her leg. Every month or so Chloe had to have a blood transfusion and this had the unwanted side effect of laying down too much iron in her body, especially in the heart and liver. If it were allowed to build up, it would eventually kill her. So five nights a week she had subcutaneous injections to shift the iron deposits. The needle went into her waist or thigh and the therapy had to be delivered overnight via an infusion pump.
When the needle went in, Chloe flinched and buried her head in Katie’s shoulder. Katie hugged her close and went on reading and pointing to the pictures.
Rachel taped the pump to Chloe’s thigh and said, “All done. I’ll leave you two girls to it. Katie, I’ll call you when supper is ready.”
Katie went on reading and when Chloe’s eyes started to close, Katie shifted round and tipped her gently into the bed. Chloe sighed and pulled the duvet around her. Katie tucked her in and stood looking down at her. Her blonde hair was l
onger than it had been when Katie last saw her and a few strands close to her mouth were stirred by her breath. There was a faint flush on her cheeks. Looking at her, you’d think she was in perfect health, yet she was a chronically sick child kept alive by a punishing treatment regime. It would mean so much if the baby was a match for her and a successful transplant could be effected. It would mean nothing short of a complete cure as opposed to a life-long routine of transfusions and infusions, and perhaps a premature death.
Rachel called softly up the stairs and Katie went down.
The other three were sitting round the table, glasses of red wine before them. A discussion of some kind was clearly in progress.
Daniel was saying, “I still can’t quite see what you think might be wrong.”
A glass of wine had already been poured for Katie and as she sat down, Rachel pushed it towards her.
Lyle said, “Let me tell you a story. There’s a guy at the rodeo who sees a fine-looking horse that he wants to buy. Everything about the horse looks great, but the price is ridiculously low. There must be something wrong with it. The guy wants to know what the problem is. Perhaps it’s vicious? ‘No, it’s not,’ the owner says. Some health problem then? ‘Nope, nothing wrong there.’ So at last the guy decides to buy it. As soon as he’s handed over the money, he asks, ‘So, what is wrong with him?’ The owner replies, ‘There’s nothing wrong with him; he’s just not worth a hill of beans.’ That’s how I’m starting to feel. All the constituent parts are fine, and yet...”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Katie asked.
“Let Lyle tell you,” Daniel said, getting up from the table. “I’d better get the dinner.”
“This isn’t to go any further,” Lyle warned.
“Of course not.” Katie was a little offended.
“Sorry. But you’ll understand when I explain. I’ve invested in some research into influenza.”
Daniel brought a steaming pan to the table. He began to ladle penne and Bolognese sauce onto plates.
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