Happy Families (6 page)

She could not land this trouble at his door. Kerry wasn’t even his daughter.

Should Lisa call Keith? Kerry was Keith’s daughter. But Lisa knew that the idea of calling Keith was a joke. He didn’t return her calls when she wanted to talk to him about childcare
over the half-term holiday. He was unlikely to return her calls over something so big. He wasn’t good with responsibility.

It was up to her, and her alone. That was OK. She was a good parent, but perhaps not good enough, considering her teenage daughter was pregnant. Lisa couldn’t help but blame herself. But Lisa was all Kerry had right now. So she’d have to do.

Lisa slowly climbed the stairs. It was the most terrible walk of her life. How had this happened? Had she let Kerry down? Had she failed to spot the signs that this was going to happen? But what were the signs she was supposed to look for?

A big, flashing one would have been handy.

Kerry was a bright, hard-working, kind girl. Yes, she had the odd teenage tantrum. There were moments when she was selfish with her brother or sister. There were times when she lost her temper, and she had lost her phone more times than Lisa could remember.

But Kerry wasn’t daft.

Although, clearly, she was.

Lisa had been thinking about herself too much, and not enough about Kerry. Lisa had been worrying what would happen when the kids left home. She should have been worrying
about what was going on under her roof right now!

For example, where had Kerry been when Lisa was at the DIY classes? What was the name of Kerry’s boyfriend anyway? Was he her boyfriend? Wasn’t he supposed to be ‘hanging out’ with Chloe Jackson now?

Regret tore at Lisa’s heart. She loved being a mum. But it was hard work, harder work than anything else. She didn’t want her little girl to have to work that hard yet. She wanted Kerry to do A levels, to get a good job, to wear nice suits and fancy shoes.

But then grandchildren were a blessing. Weren’t they? Yes? No? Not like this?

Lisa didn’t know the answer, but she was standing outside Kerry’s bedroom door. She knew she had to go in there and seem as though she had some ideas at least. Ideas, if not answers.

Lisa knocked and then walked straight in.

Kerry was lying on her bed doing her homework. Lisa was about to say, ‘You should sit at your desk to do that. Your handwriting will be neater.’ That was what she always said when she found the kids doing their homework on their beds, or in front of the TV, or on their laps. She stopped herself. It didn’t matter how
neat Kerry’s writing was, considering the situation. Kerry’s skinny body looked childlike and Lisa could not believe it was capable of carrying a baby.

Lisa looked around her daughter’s bedroom. It was the usual mess. There were clothes all over the floor. The walls were full of posters of boy-bands. There were books and dolls on the shelves next to bags of cheap make-up. Kerry hadn’t played with dolls for years. But she hadn’t got round to throwing them out either. The sight of the dolls made Lisa want to cry.

‘I know,’ said Lisa. She thought it was best to get straight to the point.

‘Know what?’ asked Kerry. ‘The answers to my homework? I doubt it. I’m doing equations.’

‘About the baby,’ said Lisa.

‘Finally!’ said Kerry. She didn’t sound scared, or ashamed or worried. She sounded relieved.

Lisa thought that was good. She didn’t want an old-fashioned relationship with her daughter. It was good that her daughter was relieved that the truth was now out in the open. Kerry clearly thought her mum would help her. Lisa planned to do just that. Now they could talk honestly about the situation – as equals, as friends.

But shouldn’t she be a tiny bit worried? Kerry was
fifteen.
All thoughts of equals and friends went from Lisa’s head.

‘How could you be so stupid?’ Lisa yelled. ‘You’ve ruined your life. It’s all over. Forget any thoughts about A levels and university. This isn’t a game, you know!’

Kerry looked confused.

‘Did you think everything would carry on as before? Did you think I’d look after the baby?’

‘Well, yes,’ said Kerry. ‘What else?’

For a second Lisa couldn’t speak. She was so angry. Of course she would help with her grandchild, but Kerry was just assuming! Why wasn’t she more sorry?

‘And what’s the father’s name?’ asked Lisa.

‘Well, if you don’t know, how should I?’ said Kerry.

‘Don’t you dare be so cheeky.’ OK, so Lisa had forgotten Kerry’s boyfriend’s name. Maybe she hadn’t taken enough interest. But Kerry had no right to be so rude!

‘Mum, will you stop shouting,’ said Kerry. She stood up and closed the bedroom window. ‘This is embarrassing enough. We don’t want the neighbours hearing before they have to.’

‘I think I’m due a bit of a rant!’ said Lisa.

‘Look, I know it must be a bit of a shock,’ said Kerry carefully.

‘A
bit
of a shock?’

‘It’s not the end of the world – not the ideal age, but worse things happen,’ said Kerry. She sounded relaxed. She sounded grown-up. Lisa felt like the teenager. She was so confused!

Lisa gulped for air. How come her daughter was so calm about this? Didn’t she understand how huge this was? Or at least how huge she was going to become. Lisa thought the idea of getting so big would at least cause a reaction. Usually Kerry worried if she ate a Smartie.

‘So have you done the test?’ asked Kerry.

‘Have I done the test?’ said Lisa. Her confusion doubled.

‘How far gone are you?’ asked Kerry.

‘How far gone am
I?’
said Lisa. Totally puzzled.

‘Mum, why do you keep repeating what I’ve said? You are acting really strangely. Is it your hormones? Is this another side-effect of your pregnancy?’ asked Kerry.

‘My
pregnancy? What are you talking about?
I’m
not pregnant.
You
are,’ said Lisa.

Kerry looked as though her mum had hit her. Her mouth hung open with shock.

‘I am not!’

‘You don’t need to pretend, there’s no point. I heard you on the phone, talking to Amanda,’ said Lisa.

‘What exactly did you hear?’ Kerry was pink with fury and embarrassment.

‘You said, “A baby will ruin my life.”’

‘Your baby!’ said Kerry. ‘I was talking to Amanda about
your
baby.
A private
conversation as it happens!’ Kerry sounded
very
put out.

‘But you were talking about the symptoms. Tiredness and mood swings,’ said Lisa.

‘Your symptomsl’
yelled Kerry. ‘Mum, how can you be this blind? How can you think I might be pregnant? I don’t even have a boyfriend. I’ve never even… ’ Kerry stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to say it to her mum. Not even after their weird conversation. ‘You are pregnant. Everyone thinks so but you!’

12

5 November

Normally, Lisa loved bonfire night. Even when it was cold and wet, which was always. She loved the smell of hot-dogs and onions. She loved the noise. She loved the colour. It was exciting. But now, and forever more, she would associate fireworks night with a blind terror.

She’d done the test, finally. Three times in fact. She’d seen women on TV doing the pregnancy test lots of times. In those Sunday night dramas or the soaps. She’d thought it was silly. Those tests cost a fortune. No one in their right mind really wasted money checking the results. It said on the packet 99.999999% correct – or something. But now she got it. That was just it.
People in their right minds
wouldn’t do a £10 test three times. But she wasn’t.

In her right mind, that was.

She was pregnant.

Age forty-two, plus three almost grown-up
kids, plus not married, plus pregnant, equals big mess.

Despite her lack of maths O level, Lisa thought she was probably ten weeks pregnant. When she’d been pregnant with Kerry, Paula and Jack she’d picked up the phone and told everyone straight away. This time she wanted to hide in a dark room. She’d like to give birth secretly. She could pretend she’d found the baby on the doorstep.

What would Paula and Jack say? What would her family say? Each question made her feel sicker, which was odd when you think she’d felt sick for weeks. Kerry wasn’t speaking to her. She was too hurt and embarrassed by Lisa’s mistake to talk again, probably. Still, at least that was one less person shouting at her. Lisa thought they might all shout.

Lisa and the kids walked home from the firework display in a moody silence. The odd lone firework flashed in the sky. When Lisa was younger she’d thought fireworks were like little bits of magic exploding into the air. Now, she jumped with every bang.

It took all her nerve to call Gill. Gill was great, and didn’t mention the fact that they hadn’t really been speaking since Gill had suggested Lisa might be pregnant.

‘Congratulations. I knew it!’ said Gill. She sounded so happy.

‘I didn’t,’ said Lisa. She sounded so unhappy.

‘Really?’ asked Gill.

‘Really.’

‘You were in denial?’

‘Yes,’ Lisa said.

‘But you are pleased.’ Gill said it like it was not a question.

Of course everyone assumed Lisa would be pleased. Lisa was a great mum. She always had been. And Lisa liked being a mum. She always had done. What’s not to like? And a baby with a good-looking man like Mark – it had to be good news.

Lisa wasn’t so sure. Things weren’t quite so clear-cut.

‘Well… yes and no. On a simple level, it’s a new life – hurrah! More realistically, I’m an over-the-hill divorcee. I thought the next pram I’d be pushing would be my grandchild’s. I’m pretty sure my kids had the same view. Kerry has been upset for weeks because she feared this. Her friend Amanda had just talked her round to the idea when I…’ Lisa didn’t finish the sentence. Her mistake was too silly. ‘I don’t think the other two will be happy either. Then there’s my parents and sister. They
are very old-fashioned on such subjects. I’m not married!’

‘Who cares about that nowadays?’ asked Gill.

‘Like I said, they do,’ said Lisa.

‘And Mark?’ asked Gill.

‘Mark has vanished,’ said Lisa very sadly. This was the worst. How could she have let that happen?

No word from him for nearly a week. There was suddenly a big gap where he used to be. Jack struggled with changing the tyre on his bike. Paula was miserable tonight, because they’d gone to the local fireworks without him. She kept pointing out dads carrying kids on their shoulders. Even though, in heels, she was almost as tall as Mark. He was never going to carry her on his shoulders. He would have bought her a toffee apple though, Lisa had to admit that. Kerry had locked herself in her room for days. Lisa didn’t know what to say to get her out. Mark might have known.

Then there was Lisa.

Lisa missed him. How unfair! After all her care to stop herself getting involved, he had still got under her skin. Last night she’d set a place for him at tea out of habit. She missed his chatter. She missed him checking that the doors were locked at night. She could do it
herself. She always had. But she liked him doing a double check. She missed his daft jokes. She missed him yelling at the TV. It was beginning to dawn on her that more than anything individual, she missed the chance that he was – another chance at a happy ever after.

‘And now there’s a baby who will miss his dad more than anyone,’ said Lisa, fighting tears.

‘Call him,’ said Gill.

Lisa didn’t think she could. Having had nearly a week to think about it, she now saw that she hadn’t been a great girlfriend. Mark was a decent bloke. He’d done nothing to hurt Lisa. He’d done quite a lot to make her life better. But her careful ways must have seemed cold and rude. She hadn’t trusted him. She had punished him for all Keith’s wrongdoings.

She’d never told him she loved him. She’d said she didn’t even believe in that sort of love. But she did love him. How silly it had been to keep that to herself. It was not possible to call him now, just because she was pregnant. She wasn’t a helpless, fallen woman. She didn’t need saving!

Well, maybe she did, but just a little bit. She did feel very alone, despite the new life inside her – or maybe because of it.

13

6 November

The kids were at their dad’s, so Lisa went to bed early. She had to think what she should do next. She rubbed her stomach so that the poor little thing felt OK. She didn’t want the baby to have any idea of the trouble that would be coming with it. Lisa was a single mum of three kids – what did one more matter? But it did matter. Lisa didn’t want to do this on her own. She wanted her baby to have the best in life and, she thought, maybe Mark was that.

Why hadn’t she thought that last week? The timing would have been so much more handy!

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinng! The doorbell woke her up. Confused, Lisa pushed through the fog of sleep. She went downstairs to answer it. It was probably Kerry. Maybe she’d forgotten an eyeliner or something.

It was Mark.

Mark stood on the doorstep. Suddenly he seemed taller and broader than ever. Lisa stared
at him. Somewhere deep in her mind and her heart she admitted something to herself. Mark looked safe. He looked like someone she could trust. He also looked quite sexy. Well, OK, very sexy. It was probably her hormones. But maybe not. He looked safe and sexy. How had Lisa let him slip through her fingers?

Had she? Why was he here now? Surely he’d come to make up. Or maybe he’d just come to collect his toothbrush. No, that was unlikely. He could buy another toothbrush. Lisa didn’t know what to think.

‘Gill called me,’ he said.

‘Of course she did. Rent a gob,’ Lisa said. But really she was happy that her friend had made the call she had wanted to make, but hadn’t dared to.

‘Were you going to call me?’ Mark asked.

‘Eventually.’ Lisa could not look at him. She looked at her feet.

‘When? On our child’s eighteenth birthday?’ He sounded cross. Lisa felt nervous. This sounded like he
was
just here for his toothbrush, not to get back together.