Babies in Waiting (22 page)

She was suddenly, so, so sad. Over the past weeks, she’d come to love the tiny soul developing inside her. She’d got excited at the thought of meeting him or her, of getting to know her child. She’d pored over the fuzzy ultrasound pictures, trying to glimpse a recognisable feature. And here was the other parent, and as far as he was concerned, ‘it’ was an inconvenience in which he wanted no part. What made her saddest was that, for all his faults, Brian loved his two daughters. And this child, as much his offspring as Emily and Charlotte, would never know his love at all.

‘You know what, Brian? I’d really like you to go now. I’ve made my promise to you. I shan’t be contacting you, and as far as I’m concerned, if I never, ever see you again, it won’t be too soon. So, please, have some dignity and just go.’

‘Fine,’ he said, standing. ‘I’ll speak to my lawyer and see if we can’t make that promise legal in some way. Goodbye, Louise.’

She didn’t bother to say goodbye, or to see him to the door. He walked out and she heard him pull the front door closed behind him. Very soon after that, she heard a car start up and roar away. She curled up in a ball on the sofa. The pain in her heart was intense. It had been an awful, horrible day. One of the worst she had ever experienced. But for the sake of her child-to-be, she had to keep going. It was midday on Sunday, and on Monday morning at 8 a.m., she had to be on the shop floor, acting like a manager. So whatever it took, she’d have to do it to cope. For Adam, for the baby, and for herself.

A phone call from Louise in the middle of a Sunday afternoon was the last thing I expected, to be honest. It was quite a new friendship . . . I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked her a lot . . . but I kind of thought we’d progress with a few lunches, then maybe a dinner out with James too. Now, I know that sound silly. It sounds like we were dating and she was moving too fast. But in a funny way, it is kind of the same. You don’t really know someone, and you want things to move at the right pace so you have lots of warning if they’re about to unleash the full weight of their craziness on you. My gut instinct said that Louise wasn’t crazy, but what did I know? My mobile rang as James and I walked into the garden at our local pub. It was the first halfway warm day of the year, and we’d gone for a lovely stroll by the river in Richmond, and now we were planning to have a drink (lime and soda for me, pint for James), then go home and make dinner. I took out my phone and saw it was Louise. James gestured to say he’d go to the bar and see me outside in the garden, and I answered the call.

‘Hi, Lou . . . everything all right?’

‘It’s not been the best day . . . just thought I’d check in with you and see . . . how things were.’

To be honest, she sounded absolutely terrible.

‘Are you sure you’re okay, Lou? Do you want to tell me what happened?’

‘Is it okay if I don’t? Not right now. Can you tell me what you’ve been doing instead?’

So I told her about James’ and my walk, and how we were at the pub. She asked me to tell her about the pub, so I told her how we come here most weekends in the summer, and how we hope once the baby’s born we’ll be able to eat Sunday lunch here with our little sprog in the pushchair out in the garden. Out of nowhere, she said, ‘I like the way you say “we”.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You talk about you and James as a unit a lot. You don’t even think about it.’

Shit. Was I rubbing it in that she was alone? ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I don’t mean to . . .’

‘I’m not being sarcastic, Toni, I really like it. It’s so great that you think of yourselves as a team. What a great environment for a baby to be born into.’

I asked again, ‘Lou, are you sure you’re all right? Are you out at the farm? Can I come and see you?’

‘No, no . . . I’m fine. Got to get ready for the big day at work tomorrow . . . I’m the boss now. And I really am fine. Just talking to you and hearing about your day has made
me feel so much better. Go and enjoy your drinks, Toni. Have a lovely day. Lots of love.’

And then she was gone.

I didn’t know what to make of it at all. I went and found James in the garden and told him about the conversation. ‘She sounded really down,’ I said. ‘I’m really quite worried about her.’

‘Hang on,’ he said, sipping his pint, ‘you’ve met this woman once, right?’

‘Well, yes . . .’ I said dubiously. I could see where this was going.

‘And you found each other online?’

‘It’s not as simple as that. I know you think she’s showing her true colours as some kind of internet freak. But she’s not like that.’

James didn’t look convinced at all. I felt I had to defend Louise.

‘I admit it was a bit weird, her ringing out of the blue like that. But I think there’s maybe more to her circumstances than meets the eye. She hasn’t told me anything about the father of her child, just that he’s not in her life any more. It just . . . well, it has to be difficult, going through this whole baby thing on your own.’

‘I suppose,’ James said, but he looked unconvinced.

‘I would hate to be doing this without you,’ I said, and took his hand. ‘Nobody else in the world cares as much as we do about this baby.’

Just then, I felt a little one-two kick. I think the surprise showed in my expression. James laughed and pointed at me.

‘I know that face. That’s the “I just got booted in the bladder face”!’

‘You see? Louise has no one to share her face with!’

He took my hand. ‘Thousands would find what you just said very confusing, but I understand.’

‘I know you do.’

‘That’s how I got your father’s permission to marry you. I told him I spoke fluent Toni, and he said, “You have my blessing, young man”.’

‘My father doesn’t talk like that.’

‘To be fair, he does a bit.’

And, as with many things, James was right about that too.

Samantha came home from the clinic when Gemma was twenty weeks pregnant. In her time away, she’d lost her glossy tan and let the grey roots grow out in her hair. She’d even put on a little weight. Gemma was a bit horrified to see her mum looking so . . . well . . . mumsy. It was a bit depressing. Although, in a funny way, she looked much better. Not so strained. Less like a nervous whippet.

Samantha didn’t seem to know what to do at first. She clearly wasn’t going to rush straight back into her usual mad round of committee meetings and lunches. Gemma could see that she knew perfectly well that the gossip machine had been busy in her absence, and everyone, but everyone, knew where she had been. She spent a lot of time wandering around the house rather vaguely, or paging through magazines, without actually seeming to see the pages. She seemed somehow softer, fuzzier around the edges, as if she were slightly out of focus.

In the week that Samantha came home, Gemma left school for the last time. She was officially on study leave before
her exams in early June. So, for the first time in years, they were both home at the same time, pretty much all day.

Samantha did everything she could not to mention Gemma’s pregnancy, and she even seemed to avoid looking at her. The bump was unmissable now. The baby had started to move quite a bit, and Gemma wished she could ask her mother to feel her tummy. The little kicks and punches and funny little rollercoaster rolls felt so strange from the inside, but she had no one to ask what they felt like from the outside. She’d read on a website about babies that later on in the pregnancy people would be able to see the baby move, and even see elbows and knees poking out. But she couldn’t imagine it.

Then the date rolled around for her twenty-week scan. She’d asked Ben if he’d go with her and he’d muttered something about college. He hadn’t come for the twelve-week one either. She didn’t want to go alone. Now that her mother was home, her father had gone back to his fourteen-hour days in the office and frequent nights out, so she knew there was no point in asking him. Eventually, the day before the appointment, she plucked up the courage and caught her mother in the kitchen as she made her morning smoothie. She knew Samantha couldn’t escape, not with all those strawberries and goji berries whirring around.

Gemma launched in without small talk. ‘So, I have an ultrasound scan tomorrow at the hospital. Will you come with me?’

She’d thought about saying ‘Would you like to come with me?’ but decided against it. She knew the answer to
that. Samantha looked in turn horrified, a bit cross, and scared, then she said briskly, ‘Yes of course. What time?’

‘It’s at two.’

Samantha nodded, and poured out her smoothie. There was a lot left in the blender jug, and she hesitated for a second, then grabbed another glass and poured the remainder out for Gemma. When she handed her the glass, Gemma couldn’t help noticing that for the first time in her memory Samantha’s nails were unmanicured and free of polish.

Her mother went out shortly after that, calling up the stairs that she would be gone for most of the day. That afternoon, Gemma was sitting in her room, revising the poems of W.H. Auden when her mobile rang. She looked at the screen and saw with a shock that it was Ben’s home number. Maybe he’d changed his mind and wanted to come after all.

‘Hello?’

‘Gemma?’ A woman’s voice, not Ben’s. ‘It’s Hannah.’ Ben’s mum.

‘Oh,’ said Gemma, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. ‘Hi, Hannah.’

‘I hope you don’t mind me ringing . . . it’s just that Ben, well, he said something last night about you having an ultrasound.’

‘Tomorrow, yes.’

‘Well, I don’t know how you feel, but . . . I’d, well, I’d really like to come with you. I’m going to be this baby’s grandmother so I’d love to see it.’

Gemma was speechless. She’d never expected this. She’d always liked Hannah, but when Ben seemed not to be interested she’d never thought that Hannah would have feelings about it too. She was right. She
would
be the baby’s grandmother.

‘Well, my mum’s coming to the scan . . .’ she started to say.

‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I came too,’ said Hannah briskly.

Gemma didn’t know what to say. How she would work this out, she didn’t know. What would Samantha say? What if the grandmothers ended up having an argument? Too late to worry about that now. She told Hannah which hospital to go to and arranged a meeting point.

Hannah sounded absolutely thrilled. ‘That’s fantastic. It really means a lot to me, Gemma.’ She paused, and then said, a little awkwardly, ‘I know Ben hasn’t been too . . . you know . . . supportive, but he’s young, and a bloke. They’re a bit thick at this age. He’ll come round. He’s a good guy, Gemma.’

‘I know,’ said Gemma. She didn’t really. As far as she could see, Ben was just being a prize twit. But his mum would view it differently.

Her mum came home in the early evening as Gemma came downstairs to make herself some tea. She stopped short when she saw Samantha because, in the space of a few short hours, she’d been transformed into her former self. Her hair had been cut, coloured and styled, she was
wearing a new outfit, and her nails were a subtle and expensive shade of pearly pink.

‘Wow, you look . . . amazing, Mum!’ Gemma said.

‘Thank you, darling,’ Samantha said briskly. ‘I thought as I’m going to be meeting my first grandchild tomorrow I’d better smarten up!’

She’d come back into focus, Gemma thought. She’d got her hard, brittle edge back, which was sad in one way, but in another was a good sign. Samantha was always at her best when she had a purpose and a task to accomplish. If the scan had given her a mission, then that was a good thing. Gemma decided she’d leave the issue of Hannah for the next day. Better to spring it on Samantha when they were already at the hospital.

The one time the mothers had met, when Hannah and Ben had come to the house, had not gone well. Hannah was defensive, and Samantha had been days away from her breakdown and more than a little unstable. Gemma was pretty sure they would never be bosom buddies. She didn’t want Samantha to be rude when she saw Hannah, so she hesitantly told her on the way to the hospital that Hannah had asked to be there.

‘Well, at least she has some sense of responsibility, unlike that gormless idiot of a son of hers. I don’t know what you were thinking, Gemma, I really don’t.’

Gemma smiled secretly to herself. The way her mum said it, if Gemma had got herself pregnant by someone with a bit more gorm, things would be fine. How things had changed. From this baby being the worst possible
thing in the world, it had become something tolerable . . . manageable. And when Samantha and Hannah were sitting in the ultrasound room watching the grainy images resolve into hands, feet and, astonishingly, a picture of the baby’s heart, four perfect chambers, beating steadily, the baby became more than that. She saw their faces soften, and they turned to each other for a brief second and smiled. She felt a surge of triumph. She had known all along that having the baby would make everything all right. Hannah and Samantha would be wonderful grannies, now Ben would come round and fall in love with her again . . . it was all going to be perfect.

‘Would you like to know the sex?’ The ultrasound technician asked.

‘Yes,’ said Gemma. She hadn’t thought about it before, but in that moment she knew she wanted to know so she could imagine the child more clearly.

‘Good idea, darling,’ said Samantha. ‘Always helps when planning the decor of the nursery.’

Hannah looked sideways at Samantha, and Gemma could see she wanted to laugh. Hannah turned to the ultrasound technician and said, ‘Can you tell for sure? When I had Ben, they were only right about half of the time, so they didn’t like to say.’

‘Oh, this little one has presented the goods. I’m certain. Sure you want to know?’

Gemma nodded, but she knew, even before the woman spoke.

‘It’s a girl. You’re going to have a daughter.’

What with one thing and another, Louise didn’t go for her twenty-week scan until she was twenty-four weeks along. She was extremely busy at work and had to move her original appointment, and then the clinic rang to cancel the revised appointment because the sonographer was off ill. She finally got to go one rainy Wednesday morning. Rachel came with her. Louise thought long and hard about inviting her, knowing how difficult it would be for her sister, but also knowing Rachel would be hurt and offended if she wasn’t invited. So, firmly sat between rock and hard place, she asked her if she was free. Rachel said she was thrilled, but Louise was prepared for fallout.