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Authors: Jo Kessel

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BOOK: Now Is Our Time
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She tried to tell him ‘no’, to not be ridiculous, that it was probably some gastric bug which would pass and that she didn’t want to trouble the girls, but then she started retching again. Jonah went to fetch his mobile and returned to her side as he called the complex’s caretaker, apologising for telephoning so late and asking if his wife Maria could come to baby sit, urgently.

 

“It was the way Jonah said ‘urgently’ which alerted Claire. He was usually so calm and cool, but she heard his voice crack and his panic unnerved her. 

 

The next half hour passed in a blur. She was aware of Jonah manoeuvring her limbs into loose-fitting trousers and a t-shirt. She was aware of the doorbell ringing and of hushed voices as Jonah explained that he would be back as soon as he could and that he should be contacted if the girls woke up and were in any way alarmed. She was aware of being belted into a car and then carried out of it the other end. She was aware of being lain on a bed. “Ma’am we need to take a blood and urine sample,” a voice instructed. She was aware of a pin pricking her forearm but the pain barely registered because it was nothing compared to the throbbing in her stomach. Someone handed her a receptacle to pee into. She was aware of Jonah trying to help her accomplish this task but, after that, she had no idea. She dropped her head back on the pillow, exhausted from the effort and fell asleep.  

                               --------------------

 

Scary words filtered into her sub-conscious.

 

Blood…………………………..urine………………positive…………..when……how………afraid……………soon……………sorry…………waiting…………soon……….sorry……………..possible……………………..ectopic……………..appendicitis………burst………………………………ectopic……….

 

Claire opened her eyes. Phew. There was nothing but silence around her. It must all have been a dream. Inches from her bed a white curtain was drawn. Where was she? She turned onto her other side. Jonah was sitting in a chair next to her, looking at her tenderly.

 

“Hey, Duchess,” he grinned. “How are you doing?”

 

Now she remembered. He’d brought her to the hospital. At least he didn’t look panicked any more. How
was
she doing?  She sat upright. No pain, no nausea.

 

“I feel great,” she smiled. “Can we go now?”

 

Jonah furrowed his brow. An extra crease seemed to have etched a path on his forehead. He shook his head.

 

“We’ve got to wait for the doctor. A specialist is coming to see you.”

 

Claire swung her legs out of the bed.

 

“I don’t need a specialist. I feel great. I told you there was nothing wrong.”

 

 

Jonah pursed his lips and his eyes misted.

 

“Sweetheart,” he took her hand in his. “They did a pregnancy test and it came back positive.”

 

She clapped a hand over her chest. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Pregnant, she was pregnant. She couldn’t understand quite how that had happened, but this was good news, wasn’t it? So why did he look so morose? Did he really want this so little? Was this going to be a replay of what happened fourteen years ago?   

 

“Claire,” Jonah leaned in close and clasped her hand tighter. “At first they thought you had appendicitis but now, because of the positive test and all the pain you’ve been experiencing, they’re pretty sure it’s-

 

She finished off his sentence, the word ‘ectopic’ a whisper which dissolved in the air. So she hadn’t been dreaming that word, someone had said it. It was true. She sat back down on the bed and bowed her head, a tear plopping out of an eye and landing on her lap.

                                  --------------

 

Their day in Coronado already felt so long ago. She hadn’t said it out loud, but after lunch, when they were sitting on the beach watching the girls jump waves, she was so happy with how the four of them felt together as a family unit that she’d thought that having any more children would be a bad idea. It was far better to nurture what they already had than to complicate matters. She was going to ask Jonah if he felt the same way, but the day was so perfect that she hadn’t wanted to start any heavy conversations.

 

If there really was a baby growing in her fallopian tube, however, she knew the chances of her getting pregnant in the future would be greatly reduced, or possibly non-existent.  Another tear and then another fell onto her trousers. An ugly thought entered her head.
This is my punishment for what we did fourteen years ago
. She decided to spare Jonah from sharing it with him.  

                                    --------------------------

 

 

A white-coated doctor wheeled an ultrasound machine into her cubicle. Her demeanour was professional and caring. Her head was cocked sympathetically. 

 

“Hello, my name’s Julie,” she said. “Would you mind lying back down and scooting to the end of the bed?” she asked.

 

Like a robot, Claire did as she was told and felt bizarrely detached as Julie squirted icy cold gel onto her tummy. On her other side Jonah sat on a chair, holding her hand, staring in fear at the blank screen. Julie placed the probe onto the gel and started moving it around, searching for an image. Claire was only thirty-seven. It wasn’t young in fertility terms but it wasn’t exactly ancient either. It was too soon to be told that you could never bear more children.   

 

“When was your last period?” asked Julie.

 

“What does it matter?” replied Claire rudely. “It’s not as if it will make any difference.”

 

Julie temporarily stopped circling the probe.

 

“I know this is hard,” she said, “but I just need to work out the size of the foetus I’m trying to look for.”

 

“I don’t know,” Claire burst into tears. She couldn’t think straight.

 

Julie circled the probe again, looking puzzled and frowning as she dug more deeply into the flesh of Claire’s lower stomach. Claire turned to Jonah looking for reassurance but nothing on his face gave it to her. His eyes were wide and sad as they stared into the far distance. Julie swivelled the screen so that it was out of view. She started taking measurements and printing images.

 

“Have you found it yet?” asked Claire quietly.

 

Julie moved the probe across her stomach and dug in again.

 

“Hang on a sec,” she said, “I’m just trying to get a better view.”

 

There was nothing for it but to wait.

 

“I’m just trying to check if there’s anything I’m not seeing.”

 

Julie printed up some more images and rose to her feet.

 

“I want to get someone else to look at these images, for a second opinion.”

 

Julie left and Claire and Jonah waited in silence, each deep in their own thoughts. A couple of minutes later Julie returned with another doctor. She squeezed some fresh gel onto Claire’s stomach and began circling the probe again. “Here,” she pointed on the screen, showing her colleague. She moved the probe. “And here,” she pointed again. The colleague nodded and raised an eyebrow before leaving.

 

“Right,” said Julie, swivelling the screen back so that Claire and Jonah could see. “There are a couple of things I need to show you.”

 

It sounded ominous. Perhaps it was worse than a foetus implanted in her fallopian tube. Perhaps there were growths of a more sinister nature. 

 

“Right,” she said, moving the probe to the far left. She pointed at a black mass on the screen. “This here is one lovely healthy baby, about eight weeks old I’d say, judging from its size.” She adjusted the volume knob and the sound of a pulsing heartbeat came up loud and clear. Claire turned to Jonah. She didn’t understand. Julie ran the probe back over Claire’s stomach and dug it in sharply to the left.

 

“Ouch,” yelped Claire.

 

“Sorry, it’s hard to see, but I wanted to show you this here,” Julie pointed to the screen again, “is another lovely healthy baby.” Again, she upped the volume and the heartbeat came across loud and clear.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Jonah, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

 

“Me neither,” said Claire, confused. Did she have a foetus stuck in each of her fallopian tubes?  

 

“I’ve had a good look and I think the pain you’ve been experiencing is as a result of cysts on your ovaries, which we’ll need to keep a close eye on. As for the nausea, that’s most likely morning sickness associated with pregnancy. I thought there might be a third for a minute,” explained Julie, “but I’ve had a good look and I’m fairly certain it’s just two. Congratulations. You’re having twins.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

JONAH

 

Getting a good night’s sleep used to be high on Jonah’s agenda. At one point in his career it had become a vicious circle. If he didn’t sleep well then he wouldn’t play his best tennis and the more he panicked about it, the less he slept. He’d tried everything in his time, from meditation to herbal remedies to heavy-duty sleeping pills. The problem with the latter was that it frequently left him feeling groggy the next day, which wasn’t advisable for a competing athlete. The one thing that had always been a sure-fire cert as a slumber aid had been sex, but the rumours about athletes being advised
not
to have intercourse the night before an important event were all true. His coach had always warned him that it depleted energy reserves for the battle that lay ahead. Jonah hadn’t heeded this warning, however. Instead he’d come up with an alternative theory, preferring to believe that sex increases the amounts of testosterone in the body which in turn increases aggression. Who knows which theory was more correct? It was all speculation and he wasn’t going to abstain just because of some scientific mumbo jumbo, plausible or not.  

 

Last night, after they got back from the hospital, Jonah didn’t sleep at all but, this time, he hadn’t cared. He didn’t once think about reaching for a tablet, herbal or medicated, and he’d already had sex. No, he simply hadn’t slept because he was too goddamn excited. Claire was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. And once she’d got over the initial shock of it, she too had appeared genuinely pleased. They’d twirled and hugged and kissed as the news had sunk in and, after Claire’s “oh my God, oh my god, oh my God, I can’t believe it,” had been repeated on a never-ending loop, she’d remembered that she’d done lots of things she shouldn’t have. “That must be why I’ve gone off tea and coffee. And crikey, think of all the alcohol I’ve drunk and goat’s cheese I’ve eaten. Plus I did that stupid zip wire, not to mention all that
sex
we’ve been having. Crikey, do you think the babies are ok?”

 

Then her concerns had moved onto the girls. “What on earth do we tell them? How will they take the news? Where will we live?” She’d started to panic. “Shush,” he calmed her. “Everything’s going to be ok. We’ll look at all the options and make it work for us. There’s nothing that can’t be overcome. This is our new beginning. It was meant to be.”       

 

At Coronado they’d gone to sit on the white sand after lunch whilst the girls waded in the ocean. He had watched the children, thinking how much he’d like to have more kids with Claire. He’d debated whether to mention it but the day was so perfect he had been scared of ruining it. In case she didn’t feel the same way, he had kept quiet. They decided to stay quiet now and not say anything to the girls yet, seeing as the youngsters were both leaving in a couple of days. Then, when it was just the two of them together, they could work out the logistics.

 

As soon as they’d got back from the hospital Claire had fallen asleep and Jonah had lain awake watching her, marvelling at the new lives growing inside of her, dreaming of their future. At about seven o’clock he got up to make the girls’ breakfast. Claire stirred too.

 

“Shush,” he told her. “Go back to sleep. You can rest all day if you want to.”

 

Jonah was on that same sort of energised “high” one experiences after falling in love. It’s a kind of buzz that doesn’t require sleep. It’s the best natural buzz that exists. Jonah had never taken drugs but he imagined that this kind of euphoria might come from a Class ‘A’ narcotic, only it couldn’t possibly feel
this
good. 

 

“Hang on a sec,” he called after the girls as they ran to the pool shortly after nine o’clock. “Wait for me.” Where were his sneakers? He liked to take advantage of them swimming by working out in the gym. He needed his sneakers. He ran upstairs to check in his closet. They weren’t there so he ran back downstairs and checked the back patio. They were hiding underneath the hammock. He ran outside with them still in his hand. The girls were already in the pool, swimming underwater. He sat on a sun bed whilst he put on his shoes, eavesdropping on the girls’ conversation as they resurfaced at the far end.

 

“I really want you to come to my birthday party,” said Martha. “Do you think you’ll be able to?”

 

“I hope so,” Miriam replied. Her tone didn’t sound so certain.

 

“Why don’t you get your Mom to ask your Dad?”

 

“I’ve already tried that,” said Miriam. “And she said she wasn’t sure that my Dad would like it.”

 

“What about if my Dad asked your Dad, do you think that would work? It’s a fashion designing party and you
love
designing. You could design yourself some cute pink denim shorts with frayed edges.”

 

Miriam didn’t reply so, instead, Martha turned her focus on her father.

 

“What do you think, Pops? Can you do something about it?”

 

Jonah tied up his second lace, not wanting to make promises he couldn’t keep.

 

“I’ll speak to Claire about it again,” he said as he got up. He pointed to the gym. “Right, I’m going for a run now. I’m in there if you need anything. Be good and don’t make too much noise.”

 

For the first couple of minutes Jonah jogged on the treadmill, his mind was completely blank, focusing on the movement of his legs and on his breathing. As the pace picked up, however, thoughts started slowly seeping in. He pondered his finances. He may not have been the world’s number one tennis player but he had been shrewd. An athlete’s career is invariably short, so the most has to be made of it. The main bulk of the small fortune he’d amassed wasn’t from prize money, it was from sponsorship deals. He’d been popular among companies promoting sexier brands, who’d sought him to promote their image. Nike, Coke, Rolex, Calvin Klein, Jeep Cherokee and Wilson had all sponsored him handsomely over the years. His arrangement with Calvin Klein had gone way beyond their logo being sewn onto his tennis tops. For years he’d done a series of TV ads and glossy magazine photo shoots in the US, modelling their latest range. He felt uncomfortable under the glare of the camera, especially stripped down so bare, but the monetary rewards were worthwhile. That deal alone had bought him not just Lily Beach, but another couple of properties he rented out in California as well as a penthouse in New York - and a lifetime’s supply of underwear!

 

If he didn’t want to he needn’t work another day in his life, but he liked working. It gave him a sense of purpose and he didn’t want Martha to grow up thinking that her father did ‘nada’ for a living. Occasionally he was hired as a motivational speaker and the tennis commentating work had recently taken off. Not long ago his agent had mentioned another possibility for him in television, which Jonah said ‘he’d think about’. He didn’t really think it was for him but, now that he knew there were two babies on the way, perhaps he should reconsider. If he remembered correctly, that job would at least keep him in one place. Much as he liked it, following tennis tournaments around the world as a commentator wasn’t conducive to family life. He would call his agent later. 

 

Jonah was running steady and hard, watching the girls as he mulled this over.  He checked his watch. He’d done ten minutes, time to pick up the pace. He adjusted the speed on the treadmill. He started to think about Claire and the twins again but then, from nowhere, the hairs on his arms pricked up. He was hot as hell, sweating profusely, and yet his skin was suddenly pocked with goose-bumps. His skill at being a great observer of people and situations, with a sixth sense for second-guessing others, now told him that he was being watched. But it didn’t make sense. There was nobody else in the gym or by the pool except for the girls. He decided that the exciting news combined with not having slept all night must be playing havoc with his sixth sense and he carried on running. Nonetheless, his hairs still stood stubbornly on end. Disconcerted, he slowed his pace down and ground to a halt, stepping off the machine.

 

Jonah didn’t like interrupting his training. Something felt wrong. He felt as if he was being watched. He left the gym and went over to the pool.

 

“Hi Dad,” said Martha, “that was quick.”

 

He was struggling to catch his breath, panting heavily as he slowly circled, taking in his surroundings, looking first at ground level, then higher. There was a rustling in the bushes that camouflaged the complex’s outer fence.

 

“Hello?” called Jonah.

 

“Who are you speaking to?” asked Martha.

 

Jonah checked himself. He didn’t want to scare the girls.

 

“You!” he grinned, lying down on the sun bed. Forget it. He’d do some exercise later. Slowly, as he lay there, wincing as Martha and Miriam willingly performed belly flops to see who could make the greater splashy thwack, the feeling of being watched dissipated. Either he’d been imagining things or whoever had been doing the watching had gone away.

                              ----------------------------    

 

Back inside, Miriam went upstairs to check on her mother, leaving Jonah and Martha alone in the kitchen. He liked it being just the two of them. Over the last month there hadn’t been much of that and he hoped his daughter didn’t resent him for it. She didn’t seem to and he knew that, if she had been upset about something, she would definitely have said so.    

 

“Hey kiddo,” he wrapped his arms around her. She was growing so damn fast. Just that thought made him think about the new babies and how tiny they would be in comparison. Would Martha hate them, resent them or just accept the new status quo? He felt a stab of worry shoot through his gut. It made him understand better how Claire felt about it. Her concerns were all valid. However, Jonah knew that, when it came to the bottom line, it would all work out - it had to! 

 

“Do you want me to make you a smoothie?” he asked.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

The kitchen had a central island with high stools around it. Martha scrambled up onto a seat, watching as her father cut the stalks off the strawberries and tossed them into the blender, smothering them with lemon yoghurt and orange juice before replacing the lid and turning the machine on.

 


Could
you ask Miriam’s father if she can come to my party?” she shouted so that her voice could be heard above the whirring.

 

“I’ve got a better idea,” said Jonah, turning the blender off. The strawberries had turned the yoghurt nicely pink. “Why don’t
you
ask her father? It’s harder for grown-ups to say no to kids. He’s coming to pick Miriam up about an hour before I take you back to Mom’s tomorrow. You’ll meet him then.”

 

“Great idea,” said Martha.

 

Jonah took two tall glasses out of the cupboard and loaded them first with crushed ice from the freezer and then with the smoothie mixture. He pushed one of the glasses towards Martha and raised the second one towards his lips.

 

“Mm,” Martha approved as she tasted. “You make the best smoothie.”

 

“I’m going to miss you tomorrow,” said Jonah.

 

Damn, he didn’t mean to say that. He always
thought
it but he was never actually dumb enough to say it out loud, because it made the parting process so much harder. The lack of sleep, the sense of being watched, the baby news, it was all making him act out of character.

 

“Me too,” said Martha. “I’ve had the best summer. And Dad -

 

“Yes, sweetie?”

 

“I want you to know that I really like Claire.”

 

Jonah’s heart sang.

 

“She really likes you too.”

 

Martha started shifting uncomfortably on her stool, as if she’d sat on a nest of ants that had started to crawl all over her backside.

 

“And Dad,” she continued, “you never answered Miriam’s question.
Are
you going to ask Claire to marry you?”

 

Jonah held his daughter’s gaze as he put down his glass. Perhaps this was an opportunity for a heart to heart.

 

“I’m not going to answer that question for the same reasons that I gave Miriam when she asked. But if, hypothetically, I
were
to ask her, how would you feel about it?”

 

Jonah held his breath, half regretting his question. If Martha wasn’t happy about a marriage then chances were that she definitely wouldn’t welcome a baby, let alone two.

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