The Convent (51 page)

‘I can hear! Wish I was there.'

‘Are you … comfy, Mum?'

‘Yes, just enjoy yourself.'

‘I love you, Mum.'

I watch the party through the open doorway as I try Dad's number in England.

‘Dad?'

‘Peach!'

‘How is going it over there? Your mum and … everything?'

‘Very slowly, love. Poor old Mum.' He gives one of his laughs. ‘They say she might leave us tonight, but who knows … What is that noise?'

‘Det's launch.'

‘Oh. Fantastic. Going well?'

‘Yep.'

There is a pause. My throat jams. I can't speak.

‘What is it, darlin'?'

‘I just …'

‘What, sweetheart?'

‘I miss you, Dad,' I say, my voice catching. ‘So much.'

‘Oh I miss you too, love! All of you, so much. I reckon I'll be home in a week. Ten days tops.'

‘Do you?'

‘I'll catch the first plane back … after, I promise.'

I go back inside and join the party. This room was where the nuns ate their meals in silence. How strange all this chatter and noise would seem to them now. My own mother was here at my age, sitting at a table in this room, listening to readings in silence and praying …
What did her prayers sound like?

For the first time in my life I seriously wish I could pray. I circle the room again, thinking of the way I've seen it done in the movies, kneeling down with closed eyes and clasped hands and then …
what?
Maybe something happens if you do all that? Maybe God is out there somewhere waiting for me to kneel down, clasp my hands and close my eyes? But I doubt it.

‘Did you tell Det?' Cassie snaps at me.

‘I can't find her.'

‘What's up?' Cassie's narrowed eyes search my face. ‘Are you okay?'

‘Yeah.'

‘You look as if you've seen a ghost.'

‘It's nothing,' I sigh.

‘We've got to have the speeches in a minute.'

Stella breaks in between us. ‘She'll be taking a breather outside.'

‘She'll be having a fag, you mean.'

In retrospect, it should have been obvious, but at the time we didn't really seriously consider the possibility.

As we predicted, all the chatter, the crowd and the general pressure had got a bit much for Det, so she decided to slip out and have a few minutes to herself in the dark, sitting on the stone steps leading into the Bishop's Parlour, rolling herself a cigarette. Then she remembered that the precious notebook where she'd made a few notes for the speech she planned to give was up in her studio. She put the unlit cigarette back in the pouch and made her way inside towards the huge dark staircase.

She got to the first floor okay and stood for a while on the landing between the two floors to catch her breath before beginning the second flight. It was after seven o'clock by this stage and no one was about. The corridor lights were very dim but she was able to make her way to her studio.

She tried the door, thinking that she'd have to go down again for the key, but it was in fact unlocked.

Det pushed the door open and turned on the light and to her dismay, suddenly and with no warning, a rush of water began to course down her legs. It took her some time to twig what was happening.

But within minutes she was swamped with gripping pains that had her crouching on the floor.

‘Fuck this!' she said loudly for no one to hear. ‘This can't be happening!' She fumbled around in her little bag for her phone to ring Cassie for help, but all she had with her was a packet of tobacco, her credit card and about fifteen business cards that people had given her that night. Even at that stage she was still thinking that it would pass and how she must get down to give her speech.

Of course, we knew nothing of this until much later.

Stella and I are wandering around outside calling her name and asking if anyone knows where she is.

We don't find her amid the small cohort of smokers standing about in the courtyard directly outside the exhibition space, so we check the ground-floor toilets.

When they prove empty we rush off around to the front of the convent into the lovely garden leading down to the river. When we come back round to the door of the reception room, Cassie is waiting for us.

‘You found her yet?'

We shake our heads. Stella suddenly takes a few steps away from us, her strange expression illuminated by the yellow outside light.

‘
What?
'

‘Oh God.' Ever the drama queen, Stella's mouth falls open.

‘What?' Cassie asks.

‘I've got this feeling,' she says.

‘What kind of feeling?' Cassie stares at Stella, who has this I've-just-seen-a-ghost sort of look on her face. ‘She can't!' Cassie wails. ‘Not
now
!'

‘I'll go check her room,' Stella offers.

Cassie raises her eyes to heaven and then pushes back through the crowd to where the microphone is. I'm caught between her and Stella. I know I probably should try to help Cassie out, but instead I follow Stella. We look up, and sure enough, a yellow light is shining through the window on the second-floor room that is Det's studio. We turn to each other.

Stella is off, running towards the side door of the building that leads up into Det's wing. I begin to follow but a familiar voice makes me stop.

‘Hey, Peach.'

I turn around to see Fluke standing there looking so very cool that I actually stop a moment to take him in. He's wearing jeans, and both his hands are tucked into the pockets of a really nice leather jacket.

‘What's the hurry?' he says, not smiling.

I hesitate only a moment, and then on a mad impulse I rush over to him. He steps back in surprise as though I might be going to strike him, and we stare into each other's eyes, our faces only inches apart.

‘I miss you,' I say quickly.

His eyes drop to his feet as he considers how to respond to this piece of news, but I don't wait.

‘Where are you going?' he yells after me.

‘Got to find Det.'

It crosses my mind that all that exercise in the morning has been doing a lot for Stella, because I'm finding it pretty hard keeping up with her as she pounds up the stairs. Both of us are breathing hard by the time we get to the dim corridor of the second floor.

Without knocking we simply push the door open to find Det kneeling on the floor, her bum resting on her heels, one hand cradling her belly and the other hanging tightly onto the leg of her desk. There is a shiny film of perspiration over her face, but she manages a wry smile.

‘I'd better go to hospital,' she says.

‘Okay. I'll call an ambulance.' I try to sound reassuring. Then I realise that after talking to Dad, I put my phone in my bag and stashed it with Cassie's stuff at the back of the gallery. I look at Stella, who stares back blankly and shrugs.
Unbelievable.

Det suddenly begins to groan, and that makes us both panic.

‘Peach,' she gasps, ‘I need to go to hospital!'

‘Okay,' I say, still trying to sound like I'm in charge. ‘I'll just go down and find a phone and we'll get you there, okay?'

Det reaches up and clutches my hand really tightly as though she is suddenly very scared.

‘No, don't leave me here.'

I look at Stella, who nods. But Det grabs her too.

‘No, please don't go. Not now, I need both of you!' She is groaning, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, her knees up, whimpering with pain.

Stella and I look at each other. I'm suddenly in complete panic. Everything I've ever learnt about birthing has just flown straight out of my head. I really have no idea if the birth is imminent or the level of pain has simply intensified or … there is no way I'll be able to cope with this. None. I have no idea what we should do.

‘Det, one of us has got to leave and get help,' Stella says softly into her ear.

‘No no.' She is sweating and groaning and hanging onto both of us tightly. ‘Please don't go yet. Just ring for an ambulance.'

‘But we don't have—' I pull myself away from her clammy hands and go to the window. The launch is still in full swing down there inside the brightly lit room, and there are maybe a couple of dozen people milling around out on the lawn. I spot Fluke walking towards them. I pull up the sash and the talk and laughter drift up in through the open window.

‘Call an ambulance!' I yell down.

No one hears, or if they do they don't take any notice and so I try again, this time louder. ‘Fluke!' I scream down. ‘Up here!'

He looks up to where I'm hanging half out the window and changes course towards me.

‘Call an ambulance!' I shout.

‘What?' He comes nearer.

‘Call a fucking ambulance. Now!'

‘Why? Are you okay?'

‘Just do it!' I scream. ‘It's the baby! Hurry. Tell them it's an emergency!'

He gives me the okay sign and pulls his phone from his pocket.

When I turn back to the room I see that Stella and Det are laughing, but I don't ask why because by the time I'm kneeling down on the other side of her, Det is beset with another long excruciating contraction that has her gasping and grabbing me so hard that the bones in my hand feel as if they might break.

‘Ambulance on its way, Detto,' I whisper. ‘Fluke will show them where to come. Try to stay calm.'

She snorts, as though staying calm might be beside the point, and continues groaning.

‘Is it terrible, Det?' Stella asks simply.

‘Yep,' Det says through gritted teeth. ‘It's pretty bad.'

Unlike me, Stella seems to know instinctively what to do. She grabs a couple of cushions, puts them behind Det, and then, kneeling on one side of her, puts an arm of support around her back and the other under Det's knees.

‘Get on the other side,' she orders me. ‘Its okay, Det,' Stella says calmly. ‘You're doing good and you'll be in hospital really soon.'

It goes on like this for a few minutes. I'm trying to keep time but I've forgotten why. All I know is that the contractions are coming really fast on each other. Det is sweating and groaning.

At almost exactly the time we hear the ambulance siren, Det give a really loud scream.

‘Something is happening,' she shouts loudly, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Oh sweet Jesus! Oh shit … Oh this is fucking crazy! Help me!'

I go to the window and look out. Behind me I hear Stella telling Det softly, ‘It's okay, baby. They're here now. We can see them. And you're going to be okay.'

‘I don't think so,' Det is half screaming now. ‘This is too much for me! I can't do this. This is terrible.'

‘Yes, you can!' says my magnificent sister. ‘Come on, baby, lie on your side a bit, that's right, curl up your legs and look at me, hold my hand. That's right. And we're going to breathe in and out together. Okay?'

‘Okay,' Det sobs.

From the second floor I look down to see that the ambulance with all its flashing lights has arrived. Luke will tell them where to go. Relief fills my whole body and I start to shake.

‘Hold on, Det. They'll be here any minute.'

‘I can't hold on!' Det screams at me. ‘I can't.'

‘Okay. Okay.'

There is the sound of feet thudding along the corridor outside. I fly across the room to let them in. But it's Cassie, looking dishevelled.

‘Oh God! God!' Det yells again. And begins to gasp and strain.

Two ambulance officers follow Cassie though the doorway, holding a stretcher, blankets and a black case of equipment.

‘Well, well, well!' the middle-aged woman smiles as she comes into the room. ‘So what have we here?'

‘Hospital, immediately,' I snap.

‘I'm Penny and this is Tony,' the woman says, ignoring me.

We all just look at her as though she's completely mad. What do we care what their names are when Det is lying here …
dying!