Authors: Sophie King
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction
25
For two pins Lisa would have called in sick again today. But she had to do lunch duty at the handicapped centre next door – they all had to do it as part of their job description for the council – and something made her feel she should go. If she didn’t, maybe something would go wrong with Rose, like it had for those poor kids.
‘Hiya, Tabs, how’re you doing?’
She liked Tabitha and her mum, who always had a cheery smile, and never failed to ask how she was and what had happened at her last antenatal check. And she’d never once – since the last time – mentioned that embarrassing incident in the shop.
‘We’re fine, thanks, Lisa,’ said Susan. ‘How are
you
doing? Still got that nice neat bump, I see. I bet it’s a boy. Girls are bigger usually and spread out all over you from the behind.’
‘Someone told me it was the other way round,’ said Lisa, handing Tabitha a plate of ham salad. The food didn’t seem so bad today. She felt sorry for them when it was a sloppy mess of grey sliced meat and gravy. ‘I did this test I got from a pregnancy website,’ she added. ‘You swing a ring above you, from a bit of string, like, and if it goes clockwise – it did – you’re having a girl.’
‘I thought you could only tell that when you’re almost full term,’ said Joy. ‘Didn’t you ask at the scan what sex it was going to be?’
Lisa finished unloading the tray. ‘I’d rather have a surprise.’
Joy laughed. ‘Oh, you’ll get that when you’re a mother, all right. Life will never be the same again.’
Lisa felt a prickle of unease.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Susan, reassuringly, patting her hand. ‘It’ll be fine once you’ve got that baby in your arms. No point in worrying about anything until it happens. That’s what my dad says. Actually, I was having a clear-out the other day and I came across some maternity clothes and baby books. The clothes are a bit out of date, but the books might be interesting. Do you want me to bring them in next time?’
‘Ta.’ She began loading the tray with plates, most of which had leftovers on them.
‘Sure you’re all right with those?’ asked Susan, concerned. ‘We could take them if they’re too heavy.’
She was so nice, she really was. Briefly, Lisa felt tempted to confide that she hadn’t had a scan at all because that American site had warned they might be dangerous. There was also quite a lot of other stuff she’d like to tell her. No. Second thoughts, Tabitha’s mum might tell someone and then it would all get out.
‘It’s OK, thanks. I can cope.’
The bus was full, going back to the estate after work, but she made a big show of puffing out her stomach and a bloke (that was a first!) gave her his seat. Her stomach was beginning to drag with that familiar pulling-down feeling and she couldn’t wait to get home. Nearly there now. Off the bus, across the car park, up the steps, one at a time. Don’t tread on the cracks, whatever you do, or something will go wrong again.
‘Hiya, Lees!’
Kiki was mopping something sticky off the concrete in front of her door. ‘Those bloody kids,’ she said, squatting on her haunches. ‘Treacle. That’s what they’ve put down. It’s a bugger to get off. Careful you don’t slip.’
Lisa looked at her suspiciously, wondering why she was being so nice.
‘How are you doing, anyway? You’ll be giving up work soon, won’t you?’
Lisa mumbled something about not being sure of her dates and Kiki nodded. ‘I understand, especially after the last time.’
‘It would help if I could get a bit more sleep,’ said Lisa.
‘Still making too much noise, are we?’ Kiki grinned wickedly. ‘Sorry about that.’
Lisa closed the door behind her, pushing it three times to make sure it was really shut, and switched on the computer. After that conversation with Kiki, she needed to talk to someone who would
really
understand.
From Expectent Mum to What Mums Know: Has anyone lost a baby?
I lost my first daughter when I was neerly sixteen weeks. Its ment to be all right after twelve weeks but it wasnt for me. I woke up with this dragging pain and when I got to the toilet, all this stuff oosed out of me like thik slices of liver that my mum used to make us eat cos it was cheep and good for us. I yelled out for Kevin who was my partner then. But blood scares him. So Kiki – she’s my naybour – she got the ambulunse.
The nurses said it mihgt be all right. It happens, sometimes, they said. But then they strapped me to this machine and the doctor told me my baby’s hart wasn’t beeting any more. He said he was going to give me a general anesthetic but that I could see the baby if I wanted, afterwards.
It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to think about this but now she’d started, she couldn’t stop.
I didnt because I was two scared and cos Kevin said it was sick.
Afterwards, they told me it was a girl. I’d been hoping for a girl. Later, I wished Id seen her. I’m stil not sure if I shoud have done. I rekon she’d have looked like me. I’ve never told anyone any of this stuff. My mum lives miles away, in Totnes, and my best freind isn’t my best freind any more.
Thanks for listning out there. Must go now. Luv Lisa.
PS I called her Hayley. It made her sound happy.
Send.
EMAIL FROM LISA SMITH
Hiya mum. Its Lisa. Just testing that my email is working because I haven’t heard from you.
CV
Susan Patricia Thomas
Age: 33
Previous experience: telesales worker; carer.
EMAIL FROM FLORRIE SUMMERS
Dear Kari,
How’s everything? I really miss you and school. The new one sucks. Guess what? I’ve STARTED! Have you? There’s something I want to tell you about Mum too but not here. I’ll ring you tonight. OK?
EMAIL FROM ANNABEL CRAWFORD
Dear Janie,
Just a quickie before I do supper. Something really weird happened the other day. Nice weird, that is. I met someone I’d been emailing and didn’t know it was the same person. Not ‘met’ as in ‘met’, of course – it was strictly work but quite a coincidence, isn’t it?
WHAT MUMS KNOW
JOIN OUR ONLINE DISCUSSIONS ON:
Affairs. More and more women are doing it. Could you?
Going back to work. Advice needed, please!
TIP FROM SINGLE MUM
Odd socks? Keep them in a pile and get the kids to sort them out on a rainy day.
CHUCKLE CORNER FROM MAD MUM
Why don’t women blink during sex? Because there isn’t time!
THOUGHT TO KEEP YOU SANE FROM MELINDA OF SOUTHSEA
When did you last hear of a man asking for advice on how to juggle a career
and
a marriage?
PARENTING NEWS
Keep Your Child Safe on the Internet
is a free booklet produced by the Home Office. Top tips include remembering that everyone you meet online is a stranger, even though they might seem like a friend.
26
She should have been working but she’d just had to log on to
What Mums Know
during her coffee break. The current discussion was frighteningly riveting: ‘Affairs. More and more women are doing it. Could you?’
So far, Fran 3 was the only one who’d responded:
To be honest – and I’ve never told anyone this before – I was on the edge of an affair once with this bloke at work. But when he suggested going away for the night, I chickened out. I knew my marriage was pretty bad but I couldn’t risk the kids hating me. It also made me realise what I could be throwing away: the house, the routine, and silly things like the neat, ordered comfort of my linen cupboard.
Caroline could identify with that. When she’d first found out about Roger’s affair, she had briefly considered having a fling – not that she had anyone in mind – as a way of getting back at him. She had dismissed the idea, knowing she wasn’t the kind of person who could cope with the deceit.
‘Hi.’ Zelda breezed in, scattering carrier-bags – a dead giveaway that she’d stopped in Covent Garden
en route
.
That reminded her. She ought to get a dress for the charity ball at the Savoy that was coming up: the editor had asked her to represent the magazine this year. She needed to get Roger a new pair of cufflinks too: his favourites had gone missing. It was little things like that, to which she wouldn’t have given a second thought before, that disturbed her peace of mind – made her imagination run riot. It wasn’t inconceivable that he had taken
her
somewhere nice and left his cufflinks behind, along with God knows what else . . .
‘Sorry I’m late, Caro.’ Zelda’s voice jolted her sharply to the present. ‘Did you get those ideas for conference I emailed over?’
‘No. I thought you’d forgotten so I came up with some of my own.’
Zelda checked her face in her powder compact. ‘Don’t worry. Mine weren’t up to much anyway. And my internet connection's playing up so I wasn’t sure if they’d gone through. God, what do I have to do to make Aurora sleep?’ She turned to Caroline. ‘You look pretty knackered yourself, if you don’t mind me saying so. How’s everything?’
Caroline poured herself a glass of water. ‘Not brilliant.’
Zelda raised her eyebrows. ‘Want to tell me?’
Caroline hesitated. There were times when she regretted having told Zelda anything about Roger. Although not a day went by without her thinking of it – it was like a black cloud hanging over everything she thought or did – there were times now when she needed to be able to forget, which was difficult when the person you worked alongside knew your history.
‘Maybe later. I’ve got to catch up on something first.’
‘Me too.’ Zelda clicked her compact shut. ‘By the way, apologies about the EFT bloke last week. I’d forgotten he was coming.’
‘That’s OK.’ Caroline finished her water to cool the flush creeping up her face at the mention of Mark. ‘He had some good stuff, actually. I’ve almost finished the feature.’
‘Fantastic.’ Zelda looked at her. ‘And the affairs piece?’
Her eyes, which were brimming with sympathy, made Caroline wince. ‘That singles group came up with a case history who’ll be ID’d. And a freelancer found two non-ID’d.’
‘Probably made them up.’
‘No. I checked them out with a phone call. They just don’t want their names in the magazine.’
Zelda smiled ruefully. ‘Understandable.’
‘Yes. Anyway, I’ve written my bit and edited theirs so it’s gone to Diana.’
‘Brilliant!’ Zelda leaned back in her chair. ‘Looks like I’ll have an easy day or two. Thanks.’
Job-sharing could be like that. Sometimes, you did more work than your partner and at others they did. It was a bit like a marriage that functioned well.
The phone rang.
‘I’ll get it.’
‘Thanks.’ Caroline was scrolling through her emails.
Zelda held her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘It’s that PR chap from EFT. What’s-his-name – Mike someone.’
‘Mark,’ corrected Caroline. Her hand shook slightly on the mouse. Maybe he was ringing to cancel lunch. Or just to talk. She wanted to talk to him too, but every nerve in her body told her it was dangerous. Think children. Think safety. Think ordered linen cupboard with labelled shelves for sheets and towels, and a life that didn’t tumble on to the floor in an unsortable mess. ‘Can you ask him to email me?’ she said crisply. ‘I’m a bit tied up at the moment.’
Seconds later, a message popped up on her screen.
Just wanted to confirm lunch next week. Looking forward to it.
Best, Mark
She’d reply later. It would give her time to concoct an excuse, if that was what she decided to do.
The following week, she found herself clothes shopping for the first time in months. She hadn’t intended to but a rather nice jersey top had caught her eye in Next’s window. It was perfect for a lunch although, as she told herself firmly, not necessarily the one on Friday. And no, she added, Mark
wasn’t
the reason for her rediscovered shopping zest.
Meanwhile Georgie had settled into the school term, although it was still a nightly battle between homework and Facebook. Ben was even less easy to deal with. Even though his A-level grades had come through satisfactorily, he continued to lie in bed, much to Roger’s disapproval – ‘At his age, I was working.’
Caroline agreed, and did her best to make Ben see sense but it wasn’t easy: Roger’s lengthy hours meant she had to discipline him and Georgie single-handedly. You could punish a younger child by withdrawing pocket money, but what could you do with a boy who was almost a man and who, just when you lost patience with him, put his arms round you and said he loved you?
Ben had already planned a gap year but, unlike Annabel’s, it involved hanging around London, practising with his band – made up of exhausted post-A-level friends – and sending off demos to record companies. He also spent hours on Facebook, ‘talking’ to friends, and wrote lyrics for his guitar. She’d seen some, when she was tidying his room. One, in particular, had haunted her. ‘It’s so easy to get hard but so hard to find a girl.’ Lewd, but poignant. Sometimes she felt jealous of Roger and that woman. At least he had known what it was like to experience true passion. Would she ever have that or was she stuck with the pebbledash of life because she took her family responsibilities seriously? And how ironic that both she and her eldest son needed love – or should that be sex? – as badly as each other.
She waited until Ben had sloped off to the pub with his mates before logging on. Supper was in the oven. Roger was going to be late. Georgie was glued to
EastEnders
. The house was blissfully peaceful.
From: Mark Summers
To: Caroline Crawford
Didn’t hear back from you about Friday. Is it still OK?
Yes. No. Don’t know.
Fine at the moment unless something happens. How’s your week been? My husband’s home late – again – so I’ve actually got some time to catch up. Unbelievably, Ben has got out of bed and Georgie is improving her vocabulary courtesy of Albert Square. Work has been mad. I’m going to have to go in for an extra day this week. So much for working ‘part time’!
Her reply, which she’d intended to be light but which, after she’d sent it, seemed to say more than she’d meant to, elicited an immediate response.
My week crazy too. Not just work. Florrie’s missing her mother big-time
and
she started her periods – in the school outfitters of all places. Probably shouldn’t be telling you this but, believe me, it’s quite something for a man to cope with.
She was taken aback but also impressed by the way he could mention such an intimate subject. Roger would rather die than say ‘periods’.
She probably knows more about it than we did at her age. The other day Georgie announced that if I ever needed the morning-after pill, I could buy it over the counter at the chemist.
She hadn’t meant to say that either but somehow she knew he’d empathise with her dismay, and admiration, at how street-wise kids were.
Freddy tells me there are condom machines in the loos at the local toy shop.
Sometimes I think they have far more fun than we do. The other week Ben caught me dancing in the kitchen on my own, Jean-Brodie style. Sad, isn’t it?
The delay of ten minutes was long enough to confirm the answer. When it finally came, she was overwhelmingly relieved.
Not sad at all! I’m always singing in the car which really embarrasses the kids, especially when the roof’s down.
Roof down? So he had an open-top. That was on her dream list, with walking along a white-sand beach.
How’s the pushing and kicking?
Still going strong. Am thinking of wearing a label round my neck saying, ‘Dysfunctional dad. Please make allowances for my offspring.’
‘Mum.
Mum?
’ Georgie yelled up the stairs. ‘When’s dinner? I’m starving.’
Got to go. Or, as the kids would say on Facebook, gt2go. Maybe we should try Facebook ourselves except I’m not sure how to do it.
She waited for a reply but none came. After dinner, when Roger still wasn’t home, she checked again. Yes, he’d replied.
Facebook is quite simple, really. Explain when I see you. Remind me to tell you about a very rude teen site that keeps popping up when I don’t ask for it. Freddy swears he’s not responsible but I don’t believe him.
I’ll swap it for an anecdote about Ben.
Done.
‘Mum, I need the computer. You’ve been on it for ages.’ Georgie squinted at the screen. ‘Who’s Mark?’
‘Someone from work,’ said Caroline, logging off.
Her daughter gave her a hard look. ‘If it’s work, why were you talking about Ben? And who’s Freddy?’
‘Mark’s son,’ said Caroline, lightly. She busied herself with papers on the desk to give herself time to think. ‘It was just chitchat. And move that glass. If you spill your drink on the keyboard, it can ruin the computer. It happened to someone at work.’
She was aware that she was babbling, talking rubbish to hide her confusion. ‘By the way, Georgie, can you tell me how to go on Facebook?’
‘Why? You’re being really strange at the moment. What’s wrong?’
A picture of the bed at the hotel after David’s party flitted through her head, followed by an open-top car zooming over a white-sand beach. ‘Nothing,’ she said, getting up and stretching. ‘Nothing at all.’