Can't Live Without (28 page)

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Authors: Joanne Phillips

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BOOK: Can't Live Without
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‘It’s only labouring, but it means I’ve been able to give Mum something to help her out. And I’m saving up, Stella. To pay you back the money I borrowed.’ He gives me that goofy smile again and I feel something inside of me tear just a little.

‘Thanks, bruv,’ I say. Now it’s my turn to sound choked.

He gives me a searching look. ‘I’m really sorry Paul didn’t make it. You’ve still not talked?’ I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. Billy sighs. ‘I know that he really cares for you, Stel.’

‘He’s got a funny way of showing it.’ We smile at each other and then go in for another hug, laughing for reasons neither of us could explain.

My mother is watching from the doorway and the look on her face is one of hopeful joy. I jerk my head to tell her to come over and quick as a flash she’s right there in the circle of hugs. Now Bonnie joins in and we’re all laughing at how American we must look.

Robert comes out of Lipsy’s room and says, ‘Have I missed something?’

We pull him into the melee – the poor bloke probably didn’t think the night could get much worse. ‘How is she?’ I mouth over Bonnie’s head. Robert nods gravely.

As we break up and move towards the door I have a strange sensation. It is one I’ve never had before. While Robert leads the way, and Billy guides my mother and Bonnie by the elbows, I reach out to the side to hold someone’s hand. But there is no one there. I knew that already, of course. I just acted automatically, expecting a hand to be there to take mine. Immediately I realise my mistake, dropping my hand and giving my brother a little shove in the back. Thank God nobody saw me. I think I might be losing my mind.

 

***

 

Paul pushed through the double doors, dread making his stomach feel like it was full of stones. He hated hospitals, hated the smell and the fake-cheerful colours on the walls, and the ever-present air of disaster waiting to happen. He even hated the way the skirting boards were moulded into the walls; an aid to cleaning, obviously, but it just seemed so – institutional.

Scanning the waiting room, his eyes lighted upon Billy, leaning against the far wall with his familiar slouch. Paul hurried over, feeling slightly less anxious. Billy’s body language wasn’t giving off a sense of impending doom – worried people tended to pace or at least look a bit more alert.

He was relieved to be right. ‘She’s going to be fine,’ Billy told him. ‘They’ve got the baby on a heart rate monitor to be certain, but it’s looking good.’

‘Thank God.’ Paul slumped into a nearby chair and, after a brief pause, Billy joined him.

‘What took you so long to get here, mate?’

Paul looked up in surprise, and then turned away guiltily when he saw the look on Billy’s face. ‘I was out on a viewing,’ he lied.

‘Really? Stella said she was sitting outside your place when she got the call and that your car was there. It was only about ten minutes after that when I called you. Weird.’ Billy gave a little shrug.

Paul was about to launch into an explanation but then he thought better of it. Billy wasn’t the type to quiz him; he was far too laid back. Besides, he didn’t actually have a decent explanation – he’d been ignoring his phone. God, did he feel bad about that now. One missed call from Billy, at least seven from Stella. And all the while he’d been watching TV, feeling sorry for himself.

‘I wish I’d got here sooner,’ Paul said to break the silence. ‘Poor Lipsy. She must have been really scared.’

‘We all were. Robert, Mum, Stella, Bonnie.’

Paul got the message loud and clear: everyone else had been here, everyone except him.

‘Like I said, I was on a viewing and I didn’t –’

‘Yeah, whatever.’ Billy got to his feet with a sigh, shaking his hair out of his eyes. ‘I’m going to go and see how they’re doing. You might as well go home, mate.’

Paul stood as well, and followed Billy’s eyes down the long, green corridor. ‘Is Stella still here? Do you think I could see her? Just so she knows I came.’

‘I’ll tell her, don’t worry about it.’

‘Well, I’d really like to see her. Make sure she’s OK.’

Billy’s expression was weary as he held up his hand and said, ‘She’s fine. Now. I’ll explain about the – viewing. And I’ll tell her you came. But I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to hang around, to be honest. It’s been an emotional day, Stella doesn’t need any more upset.’

‘But I’m not going to upset her,’ Paul protested.

‘You already have, mate.’

Paul watched in astonishment as Billy walked slowly away. He never thought he’d be on the receiving end of a telling-off from Stella’s brother, of all people. The nerve of the bloke, after all the upset he’d caused her himself. And now, suddenly, he was being all protective – over protective, if anything. As if Stella needed protecting from him.

‘Hey, Billy! Wait up!’ Paul raced down the corridor after Billy’s retreating back.

A passing nurse glared at him sternly. Paul mumbled sorry and slowed his pace. He reached Billy just before the doors and grabbed his arm. ‘Wait a second, will you?’

Billy turned around and regarded Paul with an unreadable expression.

‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone, OK? It was stupid of me, I was sulking and now I feel just terrible. I know I should have spoken to Stella, given her a chance to explain, I just … Oh, I don’t know. What with Lipsy’s dad being around all the time and then seeing her coming out of her neighbour’s like that, I just –’

‘Thought the worst?’ Billy finished for him. Paul nodded sheepishly.

‘I should have trusted her. I know she’s not a liar. But I guess I was scared.’

‘Of what?’ Billy seemed genuinely bemused.

‘Of messing it up again.’ Paul sighed and leaned against the wall, watching a group of student doctors rush past, white coats flying out behind them like wings. ‘Did she tell you about that day when she kind of came on to me?’ Billy shook his head. ‘Well, I blew it big time then. I hadn’t realised, you see. Hadn’t really admitted to myself how I felt about her. I thought,’ – he laughed bitterly as he remembered – ‘I thought I wanted the whole bachelor thing. It took a lot to make me open my eyes.’

Billy was watching him carefully. ‘And now?’ he said. ‘Are you sure about what you want now?’

Paul nodded. ‘No doubt at all. Although it looks like I’ve left it too late. If she’s gone back with John Dean I guess it serves me right.’

‘She hasn’t gone back with that loser, mate. My sis has got a lot more sense than that. For your information, she met up with him to tell him where to go. And, true to form, he did go. To Bristol, by the sounds of it. Didn’t even say goodbye to his own daughter. So it looks like you got that one wrong, doesn’t it?’ Billy shook his head and stretched out his spine. ‘God, this new job is killing me.’

Paul was still digesting this new information. So what Loretta had seen was Stella breaking up with John Dean, not her getting together with him. How could she have got it so wrong? How could
he
have listened to Loretta instead of just going and asking Stella what was going on? But then, he had gone, hadn’t he? And look what he’d found …

‘So, her neighbour?’ Paul asked. He was starting to feel very foolish. ‘I expect I got that wrong too, did I?’

‘You betcha!’ Billy said cheerfully. ‘Spilled a load of red wine over herself and the one-man cleaning machine whipped off her clothes quick as you like. And put them straight in the wash.’ He laughed loudly and nudged Paul in the ribs. ‘The geezer must be gay, don’t you think? I mean, it’s a perfect ploy for getting a girl naked but he never laid so much as a finger on her.’

Shaking his head as if this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, Billy pushed through the double doors and was gone.

 

***

 

By the time Paul got back to his car he was more confused than ever. On the one hand Billy’s words had given him hope. Stella wasn’t with John Dean or Joshua, Lipsy was OK and there was a chance, a slim chance, that they could work all this out.

On the other hand, Stella was hurt and upset that he hadn’t answered her calls and that he hadn’t been there for her when she really needed him. And he couldn’t blame her for that. Talking to her was going to be really, really difficult. He should probably give her some time to calm down. Or would that be seen as not caring? Bloody hell! He slammed his hand down hard on the steering wheel, frustrated that he, even at his age, still had no idea how best to handle a situation like this.

Chapter 26

Saturday 4
th
August

I’ve had to pretend that I’m tired just to get them all out of my room. They haven’t left me alone since Thursday night and I feel like I’m suffocating. Rob has set up his sleeping bag beside my bed here – I told him he could get in with me if he liked but he said it didn’t seem right under my mum’s roof. Who’d have thought he’d have turned out that way? And they all thought he was the bad influence on me!

Mum said Rob can move in with us which is just so amazingly nice of her. The truth is we can’t afford our own place at the moment, there’s just no way. But mum has this plan to buy another house and do it up, and she said that if we help her then we could live there, rent-free. I said she’d never make it as a property developer if she did that but she just looked at me and smiled. Anyway, Rob and I have talked about it and we’re going to do more than just help her – we’re going to do practically all of the work and then we’re going to pay her a proper rent. It’s the least she deserves.

The baby inside me is doing fine. It’s nine and a half weeks now, the size of either a lemon or an olive, depending on which book you believe. I had a “close call” apparently and now I have to spend the rest of my pregnancy taking it very easy. I don’t mind, though. The thought of losing my baby makes me feel sick. I have this picture in my head of it inside me, all helpless and funny-shaped, and it’s saying ‘Don’t worry, Mummy, I’m OK.’ When I think this I want to cry, but I feel happy at the same time. Weird, huh?

There is just one thing I regret though, and boy is my mum going to be smug when I tell her. I regret that I didn’t do better at school. After the baby’s born I want to be one of those working mums with a suit and scraped-back hair and everyone else going on about how well they cope. So I guess I need to go to college – maybe this September if the doctor lets me, or next year if not. Next year’s OK, I suppose. I haven’t told anyone about my plans yet, not even Rob. I just hope he understands. He’s so protective. I love him to bits, I really do. But he’s got to realise that I’m too young to just stay at home and bring up his kid. I need to have a life too, one that includes a baby and a bloke but is kind of mine at the same time.

I think my mum will understand. My mum seems to understand everything these days. Except how to sort out her own life of course. After that awful night when Paul caught her coming out of Joshua’s she’s not really been herself. She says she’s still annoyed at him cause he didn’t turn up at the hospital for me, but I did point out to her that he made it there in the end, so it wasn’t as if he didn’t care. Not like my own dad. Enough said about that.

So the other day we were talking about babies’ names. I just happened to mention that I liked the name Kiefer for a boy. You’d think I’d suggested calling it Hitler the way they carried on.

‘Kiefer!’ said my mum, Rob, Billy and Grandma all at once.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ I said. And I told them, ‘It’s a perfectly good name.’

‘She’s been watching 24,’ Rob told my mum who shook her head.

‘Not here, she hasn’t. We haven’t got a new telly yet.’

Well, why not just treat me like I’m not even here, I said to them. There’s nothing wrong with giving your kid a name that’s a bit different.

‘Not so different they get beaten up at school,’ mumbled Billy, and Robert – traitor – nodded in agreement.

So of course then I had to tease them some more. (Keanu? River? Brooklyn?) They totally asked for it. But inside I was thinking that it didn’t really matter anyway because I know – don’t ask me how – I just know it’s going to be a girl. And I know what I’m going to call her. I’m going to call her Estelle – after my mum.

 

***

 

This Sunday is the first in ages where I haven’t had to don a hideous yellow shirt and serve coffee with a smile at Café Crème. With my career as a waitress behind me, and my job at Smart Homes seriously in question, I’ve come to see my mother to find out what she thinks about me and Dad going into business together.

I’m surprised how positive she is about the whole thing. I’d have thought she’d be a bit wary, not want him to get involved in anything that might take him away from her for a while. But she’s all for it, even suggests using the family name for the business.

‘“Hill Homes” always had a bit of a ring to it, don’t you think?’ She’s clearing out her kitchen cupboards and I’m helping. That is, I’m sitting drinking tea while she cleans them out. Moral support I call it.

‘You don’t think it’s a little – tainted?’ I ask, thinking that the company name would probably stay on the Inland Revenue’s hit list for some time to come.

‘I suppose it might be.’ She is smiling and I realise that she was actually winding me up! My mother doesn’t have a sense of humour, as far as I know, so this takes me by surprise.

‘I suppose we could call it “Inside Job”,’ I say, wondering if she’ll get the joke.

She does. Well, wonders never cease. I go to kneel next to her and start to wipe the pans and pot lids she’s piling up at her side. ‘So you don’t think it will be too much for him?’ I ask her, wiping two years of dust off a casserole dish.

My mother shakes her head. ‘I think it will be just what he needs. A project, something to get his teeth into.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought too. You could get involved, if you like,’ I say generously. I haven’t really thought this through, but it makes sense in a way. I’m not sure what she’d do, exactly. Not shopping for finishing touches, that’s for sure, not with her eye for tat.

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