by Nina Manning
I put the phone down without replying. I undressed and put on a cotton T-shirt to sleep in. The pregnancy had begun to make me feel hot at night and I often woke in a sweat. I lay down on my side and allowed sleep to envelop me.
I was startled awake. I grappled for my phone, it said 3.33 a.m. There was pain in my arm that was radiating up into my shoulder and neck where I had slept awkwardly. I sat up and slid my feet out of bed, straining to hear. There had been a noise, some sort of ruckus that had woken me, an echo of some sort of a crash pounded in my ears. Still with memories of Annie storming into the bedroom simmering away in my mind, I felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through my body as I got up and headed for the stairs. I walked slowly down each step, not wanting the ever-growing weight of the bump to make me topple. I reached the hallway and looked through into the lounge. I could see there was a light coming from the kitchen.
‘Annie,’ I called out. I heard another noise. Another crash and then a sound, a deep noise like an animal in pain. ‘Annie,’ I said again as I walked towards the kitchen where I could hear thumping, and the deep throaty sound. ‘Annie, are you okay?’ I said with panic in my voice. Suddenly the noise stopped. I arrived at the kitchen doorway and peered around the corner. Annie was crouched down on the floor in her dressing gown, with the pantry door open. A large saucepan was half in the pantry and half out. ‘What are you doing?’ I wondered if perhaps Annie was sleep walking again.
‘Oh, Daisy,’ Annie replied, and I blew out a sigh of relief, I didn’t fancy trying to assist her back up to bed. I came into the kitchen and stood rubbing my forehead; I squinted at the bright light of the kitchen and watched Annie crouched on the floor.
‘What are you doing, Annie? Its three-thirty in the morning. I thought we had burglars.’
‘I suddenly realised it’s the end of January and I hadn’t made my annual batch of Seville marmalade.’ Annie’s voice was high and strained. Annie lifted the heavy bottomed saucepan onto the kitchen counter. Even at three in the morning I could see how she lifted from her knees and not from her back. The strength of the woman was uncanny.
‘You’re not making it now, surely?’ It wouldn’t have surprised me though if she were.
‘I’m just checking what I have. I’m popping out to the shops tomorrow.’
I rubbed my eyes. ‘And this couldn’t wait until the morning?’
‘Oh, you know me, dear. I’m a night owl. Go back to bed, Daisy. I’m fine.’ Annie’s voice was strained as she lifted the pot onto the kitchen counter. She waved me away with her hand.
Still half-asleep, I turned and walked back out of the kitchen and back to bed.
I woke again about eight, pulled Ben’s big chunky cardigan around me and went downstairs to the kitchen. I found Annie sat at the table kitchen table looking out of the window.
‘Morning,’ I said quietly, remembering how late Annie was up last night and that she probably wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. As she rose from the table and walked around to get to the sink, I took a sharp intake of breath.
‘My God, Annie, your eye! What happened?’ Annie slowly brought her hand to her face. She gently touched the area next to her eye that was blue and purple and swollen. She turned around and looked at me full on.
‘I’m not entirely sure how it happened, Daisy. I think I must have tripped on that tiny step into the pantry and bashed my face on the shelf there. I was half asleep. Anyway, what about you? Do you need some—’ Annie waved her hand about ‘—help with anything?’
I looked down at my bump. ‘No. I’ll be fine. I’m going to contact Ben tonight. I’ve drafted another text message.’ Annie shot me a look from the sink.
I knew that I had let Ben down with what I had said and the way I treated him just before he disappeared and a part of me wanted to allow myself the punishment, but the other part of me needed to know what was happening. I was angry that he thought he could just walk out of our marriage and cut off all communication. I had been refusing to think that Ben was hiding something from me but I couldn’t shift the nagging doubt. Why would the police question him so much and what if they needed to get back in touch with him again? But worst of all, what if I had made a horrible mistake and got myself involved with the wrong kind of man?
Annie cocked her head to one side. ‘It sounds like you’re talking about a work proposal, dear, not your husband.’ Annie laughed. Her tone was brazen but she wasn’t finished. ‘My Ben, he’s a free spirit. I had to learn to let him go several months ago and now I think you need to do the same.’
‘What?’ I could barely believe what I was hearing. ‘You think he’s gone? That’s it, it’s all over?’
Annie pulled her lips into an awkward half-smile and shrugged her shoulders.
‘I’m just saying, dear, maybe you should concentrate on, you know…’ She lowered her head and gesticulated to my stomach with her eyes.
‘Well, I’m not ready to say goodbye.’ My voice caught on goodbye, but I refused to let myself cry in front of Annie. ‘He has to at least make that clear, people don’t just disappear Annie! I will send him the message and if I don’t hear a reply I will…’ I had no idea what I was going to do. What could I do? Ben had made his decision. I just had to wait.
‘I’m going for a bath,’ I said and headed back upstairs.
I ran a bath and once I was submerged to my neck in bubbles I reached up to the shelf above my head, for my phone. With my face hot from the bath water and the rage that was building inside me, I re-read the message laced with firm words and the odd expletive that I had assessed a thousand times and pressed send.
When I walked back into Ben’s room wrapped in a thick towel, Annie had blitzed the room. The window was open an inch which had allowed a cool breeze to filter through. She had changed the bed sheets and there was an artificial floral smell about the air. On the bed were slouchy trousers, a soft cotton T-shirt and fresh underwear folded within an inch of their life by meticulous Annie. There was a cup of hot coffee on the bedside table. It was a thoughtful gesture and I was feeling tired, the most annoying of the many symptoms of pregnancy. I dressed and then drank the coffee which was by this point at optimum drinking temperature.
When I went downstairs, I found Annie sat in the lounge flicking though one of her many home interior magazines, a cup of coffee sat half-drunk on the table in front of her.
‘Better?’ Annie asked looking up briefly. It was as if all those words she had sent my way about how Ben no longer loved me had never happened; evaporated and forgotten about. I wondered how she could simply switch her emotions towards me. More so, I considered how she really saw me, what her true thoughts were. She was becoming increasingly difficult to read.
I stroked the fine fabrics of the trousers and an image flickered though my mind of Ben standing in the shops, picking them out for me. ‘Yes. Thank you. And thanks for cleaning the room.’
‘Well, I’ve always done it for Ben. He likes a clean room.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Did you get your coffee?’
‘Yes, yes I did. It was the… perfect drinking temperature.’ My words felt forced and unnatural as though I had to think about how to formulate them. ‘I’m going to nip to the big supermarket. Go and pick up a few bits. Then, you know…’ I rubbed my head which felt fuzzy.
‘Well at least you don’t have rent to worry about.’ Annie’s eyes remained fixed on her magazine.
‘I don’t know what you mean, Annie?’
‘I mean, you can go and get your shopping, worry free. You don’t owe me anything for staying here.’
I couldn’t work out her tone, if she was being sincere or she was offended. But I could feel my head spinning. I took a deep breath, turned and walked to the coat hooks where my handbag was. I must have turned too quickly because I felt almost too dizzy to stand. I pushed my hand against the wall and regained my balance. I retrieved the handbag and walked back to the lounge.
Annie eyed me over her magazine. ‘Everything okay, dear?
You don’t look too good.’
‘No, I’m fine, I just. I’m sure I’ve got some cash in here somewhere…’ I thrust my hand into my handbag as I arrived back in front of Annie. I pulled out a couple of twenty-pound notes and shoved them towards her. Annie looked at them, her expression one of horror.
‘Good lord, no, Daisy. I wouldn’t dream of asking anything from you.’ Annie waved me away with her hand.
‘Fine.’ I thrust the notes back in the handbag. ‘Just let me know if there’s anything else I can do then.’
‘Do you know when the insurance money is coming through?’ Annie asked, with an edge to her voice.
I felt my heart quicken at her question. I thought of Ben’s bed upstairs, the clean fresh room. I wanted more than anything to be away from Annie and her talk of money.
‘Well, the truth is, Annie…’ I began. It was now or never. I had to tell her for I knew she would continue to ask about it. I took a deep breath, my mouth felt dry and my palms felt sweaty.
‘I don’t know who suggested that there was insurance money, but there wasn’t. Eve didn’t believe in it and well, as ironic as that is now, it is what it is. Once the baby is born, I will make sure I get out of your hair.’ My voice sounded as though I was in a tunnel.
Annie licked her finger and turned the page of her magazine. The noise of it filled the room. Her face was in a fixed nonchalant pose, her eyebrows ever so slightly raised. Annie waited a few extra seconds before speaking, all the while, my heart was beating faster than it should have been. She placed her hand in the centre of her magazine and looked up at me.
I gulped; my throat felt dry.
‘I must say, Daisy, you look very sketchy. Why don’t you go and lie back down upstairs?’
I found myself obeying without thinking. I headed upstairs with Annie in close proximity behind me and got myself comfortable in the bed.
‘Well, we are in a muddle, aren’t we? Death is a very destructive experience, Daisy. You can’t just go rushing off expecting to feel fine a few weeks later. And look now, you have this baby to think of. You. Must. Rest.’
‘Annie…’ I could feel myself wanting to drift off. ‘The money… I am sorry about the insurance… I didn’t think.’
I closed my eyes and heard the last words Annie spoke to me that day.
‘Well then, dear, I guess that means you’re stuck here with me for the time being, doesn’t it?’
Grace
I looked at the letter over and over again as I stood at my workstation in Emily’s kitchen. I had arrived a few minutes early. Emily had brought me over some tea and I sipped it whilst I mulled over the words my husband had written. It was short, precise and to the point. He had left me. He wasn’t coming back and he was beginning the divorce proceedings.
I knew I should have felt more upset but in a way I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted. He had been silently threatening to leave for so long.
But now I had something else to occupy my mind. I had been there so many times before but this time it had an edge to it. Something extra that I hadn’t felt before. My period was late by two weeks and it was all the evidence I needed. I knew this time I was going to keep this to myself. My husband would never need to know. He had already left the house, with all of his belongings. After that night together, I never saw him again. All I had left was this letter. And the growing life within me.
But he didn’t deserve to know about my pregnancy this time. I felt as though this was his parting gift to me. He had taken care of everything as he had spoken about in his letter to me so I knew I didn’t need to worry about money or paperwork. The house was to be handed over to me. A result of his guilty conscience. But I knew I wouldn’t be staying. The house was worth a fair bit now. I knew that and so I would leave. Far away as possible and start my new life, just me and my baby.
At last I felt in the same league as Jenny. We had a common ground that went beyond just being women.
We were like two teenage girls, giggling and wittering away at the back of the classroom. Emily glanced over regularly at us with a small smile of approval at our friendship and I thought my heart might burst with joy. I hadn’t ever experienced the newness of a friendship before, the eagerness to be by the side of another woman and share feelings I realised you could only ever share with a female. This was quite alien to anything I had ever experienced with my husband. It felt natural and easy. I felt proud to be next to Jenny and that she had chosen me to confide in and trust. The high I felt to be pregnant overshadowed any grief I felt for my failed marriage and the love lost between me and my husband.
I didn’t tell Jenny that I was with child. I kept that secret within me. I thought I would tell her when the time was right; when I was sure everything was going to be okay. This time, I knew it would be.
I imagined her face, how she would congratulate me with real sincerity and how when our children were born there would only be a few months between them in age and how they would play together. It was like a dream. I felt that I was the luckiest woman on earth to be given the chance of being a mother again even when my husband, the father of my child, was nowhere to be seen and busy making a life for himself somewhere else. I still had the opportunity for happiness. And who knew, maybe one day I would meet someone who would be willing to take on someone else’s child as their own. I had read about it enough times, there was no reason it couldn’t happen to me.
But right then, I didn’t feel alone. I was growing something, one was becoming two.
A fresh start was all I needed. Me and the baby. My husband’s punishment would be that for the rest of his stupid selfish life he would never know his son or daughter. I would be the mother to a child he would never know existed. Some might think that was cruel on the child, but I knew what my husband was capable of. He was a selfish man, who gave up on me because I wasn’t as fertile as all the women his brothers married. That wasn’t love. That was a convenient situation for him, whilst it lasted. Then he got bored of waiting for the thing he couldn’t have and left me.
It was May and the trees were filled with blossom. I saw my life in those full trees, new life and hope. I was ready to let go of everything and start a fresh.
I was pregnant with my husband’s child. It should have been a miracle to celebrate with him but I was facing my future alone.
Daisy
I allowed another week to trickle slowly by like thick treacle. I was finding it difficult to walk, each step becoming more obvious with the weight of baby.
I touched the bump. I tried to feel some connection with it, but I just couldn’t. Even when Ben was here, I couldn’t do it. I was a terrible person. I tried not to think about what would happen when the baby was due in a few months. I tried not to think about how I had already failed this baby so much. I tried not to think how it wasn’t the first time either.
Instead I let a blanket of hopelessness envelope me like a cloak. I wasn’t counting the days, I was letting them pass and they skirted by. I mostly lolloped around the house like an unemployable teenager. Tiredness crippled me daily. I was so unused to it, it left me completely debilitated. I let Annie carry on doing everything whilst I tried to sink into the shadows, but I always felt as if I was being watched by her. She cooked and she seemed to be patient and at times it could even be perceived as kindness; I wasn’t sure. But I was here and she hadn’t told me to leave so I stayed. Although I felt in limbo. I needed to make a decision about my life, about where I would live. I couldn’t keep putting off the inevitable. That I was going to be a mother and I was going to have to do it alone.
I laid in bed listening to the clanking of the pipes, deciding whether or not it was worth getting up. I knew eventually Annie would bring up a cup of coffee or tea if I didn’t emerge downstairs.
Then my phone pinged the sound of a text message. And my heart leapt into my throat. I grabbed my phone and quickly navigated my way into the texts. Ben’s name was staring back at me. I opened the text and
straight away I felt my thudding heart slow with the despondency that filled my body.
One week since the last message to my husband, he replied. There were only three lines. Three measly lines.
Daisy, I have a lot to deal with over here right now and I would appreciate you giving me the time to do that.
I hope to be back in time for the birth but please in the meantime, let Mum look after you and the baby.
Take care and see you in a few months. Ben.
I read it at least six times, each time searching for the missing words, the meanings, something that meant he cared and that everything would be fine between us. To give me a reason to care for his baby I was carrying.
But there was nothing there.
I could still feel Ben, as though he wasn’t that far away at all. I still had the smell of him in the room, on the cardigan that I perpetually wore and never washed. I thought he would have stayed to support me through this period, but he didn’t.
Sitting still wasn’t an option. I got up and as I arrived at the bottom of the stairs with my thoughts clearly written all over my face, Annie was passing through the hallway and stopped and exclaimed.
‘Whatever is the matter, girl, you look as weak as a kitten!’
‘It’s Ben. He messaged me.’
‘He did?’ Annie’s face matched the confusion in her tone ‘Well, what did he say? Is he coming back?
I shook my head, barely able to say the words. ‘I… don’t know.’
Annie took me by the arm, walked me through to the lounge and got me seated on the sofa.
‘But what did he say?’ Annie stood in front of me with her arms folded, so I pulled out my phone and showed her the text with the words that had burned into my eyeballs by now.
Annie handed me the phone back. ‘Well, at least he knows you are safe here. And he didn’t say he wasn’t coming back. He said he hopes to be back by the time the baby arrives. Do you have an exact due date? I know it’s April.’
