39 Weeks (9 page)

I knew the
hating
Shelley thing was only temporary, but as for
how I felt about
the baby
and what was happening to my body
. . . well that was
of a
more permanent
nature
.

14
th
August – week 11

This morning I was due for my duty visit from Mum. I’d spent most of y
esterday cleaning and tidying
in preparation for the monthly state visit
, and was now sipping tea at my very small dining table,
seated
on the roomiest chair natch, and waiting with decidedly un-bated breath
for the appointed hour
.

She was right on time, and didn’t disappoint in the disapproval expectation department, as the first thing she said was wasn’t it about time I cleaned my windows, followed closely by what was that rubbish I was listening to on the radio.
It was Heart FM for God’s sake, what was she tone deaf? I gritted my teeth and smiled, no easy feat, and let the all too familiar criticisms pass without comment.

I made tea for her and another cup for myself, I was really getting into this tea thing and couldn’t get enough of the stuff, an
d prepared myself for round two that was sure to follow.

‘So what have you been up to, still
staying out till all hours
on
a Saturday night with those
friends of yours I suppose . . .’

‘No Mum I haven’t I’ve . . .’

‘Don’t bother trying to tell me any different because it’s obvious you’ve been burning the candle at both ends, you look awful, those dark circles under your eyes are a dead giveaway and . . .’

‘Mum I haven’t been out on a Saturday for . . .’

‘I knew when you first
started hanging round with those girls
that
you’d end
up in trouble one day, and now look at you
. I
t’ll start affecting your work
you know all this partying and late nights,
and then you’ll get the sack. Well don’t say I didn’t warn you
, if you’d just try . . .’

I didn’t interrupt again, it was easier to just let her have her rant and get it out of the way,
then we might be able to have five minutes
at least
of
normal conversation before she went
home
again. I sipped my tea and tuned out for a while.

‘And why are you drinking tea? You hate tea. Judy are you listening to me? I said why are you drinking tea?’

‘Tea? oh yes tea.’ Damm and blast it I’d forgotten that I’m not supposed to like tea. ‘I don’t know I just fancied it, weird
huh
?’

‘Very, after all this time, and you just sudd
enly decided you like
it now
did you?
’

‘
Yes something like that.
’
I said evasively, to which she pulled a querying look, but didn’t offer any more comments on the subject thank goodness.

‘Well I’ve had my stomach problem again, it’s my ulcer, you’ve no idea how it plays me up, and just when I thought I’d got it under control with that diet the doctor gave me, and I’ve been so careful, but now it’s . . .’

I tuned out again while I waited for the monthly countdown of ailments to run its course. There were a couple of new ones this visit, but a couple of the old favourites seemed to have been dropped so it all came out about even in the ‘you don’t know how I suffer’ stakes.

I got up to
wash
the cups
up
and as I stood at the sink, sideways on to Mum, she paused for a moment from her one woman diatribe to ask if I was putting on weight.

‘Um . . I don’t think so, am I?’

‘Well I’d say so yes. What
ever
have you been
eating?’

‘Nothing specially different from my normal.’

‘
By normal I take it y
ou mean microwave muck and chocolate?’

‘I don’t always eat microwave meals, I cook myself fresh vegetables sometimes, and I only have chocolate when I’m stressed out at work.’ I said with my fingers crossed
behind my back
where she couldn’t see them.

‘Well it doesn’t look like it. Maybe you need more exercise, why don’t you join a gym or something
?
I’m sure sitting in that office of yours all day can’t be good
for you, you need to go jogging
or playing tennis or something
, and you can get some fresh air at the same time, you’re
really
looking decidedly peaky.’

Play tennis? Where did that come from, I’ve never played tennis in my life
and neither has she that I know of
.
‘Mum I’m fine, stop fussing.’

‘I’m not fussing, you are
looking very pale you know
.
. .
Judy are you alright?’

I wasn’t alright, in fact I was feeling more light headed
with
every second
passing
that I
carried on standing
there, my knees started to buckle and I could feel myself on the verge of feinting.

Mum jumped up and helped me to
the
chair again
,
feeling my forehead as she sat me down. Then she opened the window as wide as it would go and made me put my head between my knees. After a minute or two I began to feel
a bit
better and sat up again.

‘So,’ s
he said in interrogation mode ‘w
ould you like to tell me what’s going on, are you ill or just hung-over?’ Albeit concern over my welfare
was her primary consideration,
her question still came out as more of a command than a query.

‘I’m not ill or hung-over, I just haven’t been sleeping well lately that’s all.’

‘You know Judy, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were pregnant, you’re showing all the symptoms, pale and washed out, dark circles under your eyes, putting on weight, fainting
and suddenly having a liking for tea
. You’re not are you?’ She said half laughing.

‘Mum I . . .’

‘Oh my God you are aren’t you, you’re pregnant.’

‘It’s . . I . . well a little bit I am, yes.’

‘You’re pregnant?’ She said shocked, even though she was the one who’d
thought of it and said it first.
‘And what do you mean a little bit, how can you be a little bit pregnant? Either you are or you aren’t.’

‘I’m sorry Mum.’ I mean what else could I say, I was sorry
I was pregnant
that much was true, but I wasn’t quite sure why I was apologising to my mother about it. But like I said what else could I say.

‘Wh
o’s the father?’ She said stone
faced.

This was the difficult bit I was dreading. When the truth finally came out
as I knew it would have to sooner or later
,
and
as if having to tell Mum I was pregnant wasn’t bad enough, now I had to try and explain
that
what’s-his-
name
was the father and that it was a mistake, a one night stand that should never have happened and wouldn’t have if I’d been sober. Ever since I was old enough to go out
clubbing
on a Saturday night Mum had been giving me lectures about not staying out too late and not drinking too much, and how it was all going to end badly if I wasn’t careful, and now . . . now I’d
given her the ‘I told you so’ ammunition and I’d
never hear the end of it,
not
ever.

‘It was someone I met, and thought was the one, you know
‘
the one
’
, but he had to go away. He didn’t know I was pregnant when he went. But he’s the father.’

‘You never mentioned you’d met anyone, what’s his name?’

‘It’s Rob, his names Rob, and he has to go away for work, he’s a photographer and sometimes he has to work abroad.’

I know it was a lie, and a little bit of me felt really bad lying to my Mum, but I couldn’t tell her about Matt the twonk, she’d never understand, and
saying it was
Rob was the first thing I could think of. I’ll wait a few weeks and then tell her he met someone else, or has decided to stay abroad
, or has just realised he’s gay, or . . I don’t know, something anyway, I’d worry about exactly what I’d tell her later. For now I’d let her think it was all going to be alright and that Rob was going to be the father, I mean like a real father, and look after me and the baby. That would please her,
get her over the shock of her single daughter being a member of the pudding club,
and it would get her off my back until I’d had a chance to think of something else.

‘I see. Are you going to tell him?’

‘Of course, but I want to wait until he comes back, I don’t want to tell him over the
phone or by e-mail
. I mean something like this has to be
said
in person.’

‘Yes
I suppose so. When is he coming back and what do you think he’ll say?’

‘He’s supposed to be coming back ne
xt month, so I’ll tell him then and
I
think
he’ll be pleased.’

I was embellishing like mad now
, one slight change of name and before I knew it I was up to my armpits in some complicated fantasy that if I wasn’t careful I’d never be able to talk my way out of.
 

‘So you’ll get married?’

‘Maybe, I mean nowadays it’s not . . . well we don’t have to get married do we, it’s not lik
e the old days is it?
I mean Dad’s not going to stand over him with a shotgun or something is he . . . is he?’
I said suddenly scared and imagining my Dad looking all serious with a smoking shotgun under his arm.

‘No, I doubt your father would have the energy, or the knowhow to
be able to
use a shotgun.’

It still
rankled
with Mum that Dad had never made an effort to
try and get her back after she
’d
left him. In fact according to Mum’s version of event’s he never had the energy for anything much, and that was one of the reasons she left him and they got a divorce. Although he seems active enough to me, doing up the flat he’s bo
ught, and helping Gran with her
garden now she’s a bit passed it. He’s even got himself a new girlfriend but I don’t think Mum knows about that, but anyway
he’s plenty
active enough for a fifty year old.
‘No well anyway, I’m fine. Really I am. So no need for you to worry at all.’
I said trying to manoeuv
re the conversation away from
my
Dad and opening that whole can of worms
up
.

‘So when will I meet this Rob?’

‘Well when he comes back, and when I’ve told him I suppose.’

‘And when’s this baby due exactly?’

‘In February, the end of February,
maybe March . .
I think.’

‘Hasn’t the hospital given you a proper date?’

‘Hospital?’

‘Yes hospital.
Haven’t you been booked
in for a scan?’

‘Scan?
’

‘Are you just going to repeat everything
I say
. For goodness sake Judy you’re having a baby, it’s about time you started acting a bit
more
responsibly, you have to for the baby’s sake even if you can’t do it for yourself. Have you
even
seen a doctor
yet
?’

‘Um . . . well no. There’s no rush is there?’

‘Yes Judy there is a rush. You’re having a baby. You need to get yourself to a doctor and let him examine you, make sure everything’s alright, and he’ll organise for you to have a scan
, and arrange regular check-ups
and everything
.’

‘I will. I’ll
sort it all out tomorrow.’

‘Promise? It’s important
you know, not just for the baby but for you as well.’

‘I know Mum,
I’m
sorry Mum.’

‘Well, my first grandchild
. And my daughter’s finally found herself a man and is going to settle down.’ She said incredulously.

Did Mum just say first grandchild, first as in more later
like a second or third
but this was
going to be
the first?
I mean I was an only so any more
grandchildren
as in additional to this one would be entirely down to me.
Um I don’t think so. This baby was already proving hard enough to deal with
and it hadn’t even arrived yet
, there most certainly
wasn’t going to be a second or third
.