by Nina Manning
‘Annie, I must insist that my son is in the same room as me, it’s not natural for us to be separated, and I have to be close to him. Surely you understand that?’ I surprised myself at my own confidence.
Annie looked at me for a few seconds. I wondered if she would fight me again, make me believe that she was right and that I wasn’t of a sane mind. I wasn’t sure I had the strength in me to stand up to her a second time so when she backed down it was a complete relief. It had taken everything I had in me to tell her no.
‘Yes of course, of course. Let me go and get you some muslin blankets, I left them downstairs.’ Annie hurried from the room, leaving me and my son alone. I looked down at him, wrapped up in a blue blanket, with just his little round face and a sprout of dark hair poking out. He was watching me so intently with his little beady dark eyes. I didn’t expect the wave of love that rushed up from my belly to my chest.
It made me think of Ben and that I needed him with me. I wanted him with me. Then I thought of Eve and how she would have adored this baby as much as I did.
I settled myself on the bed and watched as his eyes closed and he fell into a sleep.
I could still feel my stomach contracting a little. There was quite a lot of pain but I wanted to ignore that. I would try and feed the baby in a while when he woke up, that would help. But like me he was exhausted from the birth. I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. With the hormones rushing around my body I felt suddenly as though everything was real. I could feel the weight of his tiny body pressed into the crook on my arm and could feel the warmth of him. He was alive. He was okay. He was mine.
My eyes were open and Annie was in the room. My arms felt different, lighter. It took me a moment to realise, I looked down, the baby was gone. Annie was fussing around the bedside table.
‘The baby? Where is he?’
‘Now, Daisy, I told you, you weren’t in the right state of mind for this. I left the room for a moment to collect the muslin blankets and you fell into a deep sleep with Daniel in your arms.’
I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed.
‘Calm down, dear, Daniel is safe. He’s in his Moses basket down the hall. Sound asleep. You have nothing to worry about.’
‘But I need to be with him!’ The desire to be with him was more intense than I could have imagined. Losing my baby again was not something I could allow to happen. I wasn’t that teenage girl surrounded by people who never even asked my opinion but took it upon themselves to remove my baby for me. I could feel it happening all over again.
‘Sit down, dear. You’re too weak, you have just given birth. Daniel is perfectly safe in the other room.’
‘Why are you calling him Daniel? He doesn’t have a name. I haven’t given him a name yet.’ I could feel the panic rising in my chest and into my throat.
‘Well, that’s why I am referring to him as Daniel – it’s perfectly better than baby, isn’t it? Look, I’ve brought you some more tea… Daisy whatever are you doing?’ I pushed past Annie with great force as the need to be with my son became animalistic. I sped down the hallway and into the next room on the left. The room was dark and cool. The Moses basket was stood in the corner with a large chair pushed up close to it and a small table next to that. As I approached, I could see an object on the table. It was a baby bottle. It had been filled with milk and was now almost empty.
‘What the…’ I stumbled towards the table and picked it up, holding it close to my chest, I spun around to find Annie in the doorway. ‘What is this?’ I spat at her.
‘Now, Daisy, I suggest you calm down, Daniel – the baby was hungry, dear, you were passed right out!’
‘I wanted to be the first, he needs my milk, not… this shit!’ I threw the milk bottle at her feet. The baby stirred in his basket.
‘I think you need to calm down, lassie, you are getting yourself into a pickle. This is not good for you or the baby. Your milk hasn’t even come in yet, I was just trying to help.’
‘Well, I don’t need your help,’ I snapped. I realised I shouldn’t have said that last part. Of course I had needed her help, I hadn’t been able to manage without her. ‘I mean…’ I cleared my throat and smoothed my hair across my head. ‘I thank you for all your help,’ I said calmly, ‘but I really do need to take things from here. I’m his mother, Annie.’
I could see Annie’s face, twisted and contorted like it was that day she laid eyes on me for the first time, when her words didn’t match her face.
‘Okay, Daisy. I understand. I have been a little hands-on. I will back off and let you take over.’ She almost did a little head bow as she retreated from the doorway and left me standing there flushed with anger.
I stood and got my breath back and let the anger subside before I walked over to the Moses basket and looked in at my sleeping son.
I knew then that no matter how I had been feeling and no matter how much I still blamed myself for Karen and Eve’s deaths, for giving away Alice and for letting Ben walk out on me, this little man needed me and I wasn’t going to let him down. I wasn’t going let anyone take him from me.
Annie
It was clear Daisy was not going to willingly hand over the baby as I had anticipated. It had seemed she had spiralled down so deep into a depression that she wouldn’t find her way out. I could only presume it was those damn happy hormones from just giving birth that were stabilising her for a while. I needed her to fall back into a state of depression, which knowing her track record, how easily she fell last time, it wouldn’t take long. The baby blues would surely escalate into full-blown postnatal depression and she would hand the baby straight over. But I didn’t have that amount of time to waste. It could be weeks away and I needed to act now.
I gave her a tiny amount of time and space after the bottle incident. She was clearly riled. Now I needed to get her back into a compliant state once more. A little while later I arrived back in Daisy’s room with a tray laden with hot chocolate and biscuits and my best smile.
She was sat up on the bed with the baby latched onto her breast. The natural maternal sight made my heart quicken with envy. I tried not to falter and continued over to the bedside table.
‘There we are, some delicious hot chocolate for us and biscuits for your energy. I hope you’re happy to have a little sugar now? Doesn’t he look jolly happy there?’ I said and Daisy smiled at me as she took the hot chocolate and took a few long sips.
I was clearly forgiven for offering the little man a bottle.
‘Yes, he does.’ She looked down at him with that maternal gaze and I had to glance away for a second.
‘Four o’clock already? Where did the day go, anyone would think a baby arrived this morning.’ I made a feeble attempt at a laugh but Daisy didn’t notice as she was too engrossed in the baby.
‘Any thoughts on names now?’ I quizzed.
She shrugged. ‘No, none. One will come in time.’
‘I’m sure it will.’ I settled myself on the side of the bed. ‘Would you like some more hot chocolate, dear, it will give you some strength?’
The baby fell off her breast and his little head rocked back.
‘Yes thanks.’ She carried on drinking, her left arm cocooned around the baby. I had made sure it was at optimum drinking temperature. ‘You know, I really need to get in touch with Ben again, send him some messages and photos of the baby. I’m sure now he’s here, he will want to meet him.’ She said taking big gulps I had made it extra sweet after all that excursion her body was probably craving the sugar.
‘Yes, dear, you’re right. We should try again and make contact soon.’
‘What do you suppose he might say, after all this time?’ Daisy’s head was slouching to one side.
‘I don’t know, dear, I suppose he will have just been having a good long think and you would have thought given all that time he would have come to his senses. But I guess there’s just no telling with that boy’.
Daisy took another long drink of th
e hot chocolate.’
‘I miss him… that’s all…’ Her voice was small and sleepy.
‘I know. We all miss Ben. But Ben has been a very naughty boy and disobeyed his mummy. Just you rest now, that’s it, close your eyes, all will be well.’ I reached over and took the tilted mug from her hand. I placed it on the bedside table. Then I stood up and reached down and took my baby.
Daisy
I woke up as though I had been underwater and I was taking my first gasp of air. My arms were light, no longer bearing the weight I remembered before I fell asleep. My naked breast was still out. I arranged it back inside my T-shirt.
The banging, it was there. Was it the banging that had woken me? It seemed louder than usual, as though it was in the room.
As I sat and listened to it, I started to place the beat alongside the lyrics that were suddenly in my head. Maybe they were always in my head. My mouth was dry and my heart rate had sped up. This wasn’t like one of those moments I had where a mundane everyday sound, turned into the first few chords of a song. This was that song, I could hear loud and clear, it was there and it fitted with the tempo. Of course, the banging was too uniform to be just a random sound from the old house. I knew when I had heard it the very first night.
I started to hum along. Then I started singing. The tears were falling. Images of Ben and I singing along together in bed the day after I met him, flooded my mind.
I looked around to pick up the baby but he was gone. Panic paralysed me for a few seconds.
I tried to stand but I could feel the room spinning. Images were flashing in front of me. Memories from the last few months, the shouting I had heard the day Ben disappeared, Annie waking me up at 3 a.m. clattering about in the kitchen. The bruise on her cheek the next morning. Then I walked to the mirror. I lifted my T-shirt to expose my deflated stomach, wrinkled but stretch mark free. I thought about Annie walking into my room naked, her taut skin completely exposed. I cast my mind back to the conversation on the day we heard the baby’s heartbeat, I could hear Annie’s voice telling me her body was in ruins from stretch marks. I traced my fingers over the sides and front of my stomach and abdomen and my mind switched to Annie’s body. I had seen enough of it, from all sides. Annie’s body was taut and smooth. And did not look as though it had stretched to accommodate the space for a growing life.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Annie
I had to work fast as I knew I couldn’t keep her out for long with those drugs. And the damn baby was fussing, he was hungry, I would need to prepare another bottle.
I could have put money on Daisy losing the plot, handing the baby over to me and retreating back to her old life. But that wasn’t so anymore. Just in the same way as I imagined my son would comply and realise his place was here in his home with me.
So I had a new plan.
I pulled the blankets tighter around the baby and he settled down into the crook of my arm, the weight of his little body felt so right.
I stood in my bedroom and looked around for the final time. Everything was prepared, just a few more things to do now and we would be on our way
Suddenly knowing I was running away again brought it all back. The face that loomed down at me from the electric shop that day in the village was once again prominent in my mind. I checked my handbag for the essentials. I had plenty of cash to keep me going. I would empty more from my account over the next few weeks. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by withdrawing the hundreds of thousands I had in there which was all the money from the house Rory and I had lived in. I had barely touched it. Living in my father’s beach house and working for most of my life I had never needed it. Ben and I lived a very simple existence. And then my pensions came in and, well, the house sale money just sat there gaining lots of interest. It had been earmarked for a day like today, when I needed to leave, and so as I checked the handbag one last time, I pulled out my driving licence to double check it was still in date. I glanced at my name, the full name I was christened with: Marianne Grace Cartwright. I had never once liked the name Marianne, so formal. I immediately dropped it to Annie when I divorced Rory. I had always liked my middle name, Grace. It was the name I used from time to time. However, I could never go back to using again. I stuffed my licence back into my purse. Then my eye caught something else in my bag. A slim black phone. With curved edges. What sort of ridiculous name was Blackberry anyway? I needed to be as weightless as possible with all the extra baby paraphernalia I would be carting with me, so I took the phone that once belonged to my son and dropped it in the wastepaper bin next to my bed.
Grace
As that final day at Emily’s unravelled it was to be the day my life finally became whole.
Jenny had reached out to grab my hand and I took hold of it.
‘That’s my husband,’ Jenny said with trepidation pointing to the man at the door that had caused so much commotion. I looked over at the man who was making his way over to her. Jenny looked at me. ‘You must forgive him, he’s… he’s not well. The bruises, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I was going to leave because we couldn’t take it anymore, me and the kids… my stuff, I had things… I was going to take them to my mum’s for a while.’
Jenny’s husband was grinning and cooing at Mikee, who shied away initially but then after a few seconds, responded with giggles. Then Jenny’s husband turned to her.
‘Hello, love, I’ve been wondering where you’d got to?’ I heard an edge to his voice that resonated deep within me, easy words peppered with malice.
‘Darling,’ Jenny sang. ‘How on earth did you find your way here?’ She placed an arm around her husband. Emily was now at the bench looking intrigued. All the other women had stopped and were staring in the direction of Jenny’s workstation, some of them huddled together whispering.
‘And who’s this, love?’ Michael looked at me.
‘This is my friend Grace I was telling you about, she’s a wonderful cook, she helps me all the time…’ Jenny’s voice was wavering.
Michael’s eyes were drawn to Mikee again.
‘There he is, my wee lad. Miracle this one, popped out at home, did Jenny tell you? Middle of summer, midwife got there just as his head came out.’
‘Yes, yes. She told me,’ I said. Jenny had told me the story enough times, it was etched in my brain, but when I would recall it later, I would switch some of the details to suit me better.
‘Emily, you remember my husband, Michael? Could you possibly see about getting him sat down for a cup of tea and some of that Victoria sponge? Victoria sponge is your favourite isn’t it, Michael?’ Jenny said through a strained smile.
‘Ooo yes, Victoria sponge, yes that would be wonderful!’ Michael said with unnecessary enthusiasm. He turned to walk away with Emily, but before he did, I saw the look he flashed at Jenny, a vile wretched look I recognised from my own childhood.
As I watched more colour drain from Jenny’s face, she turned to me and I saw her physically shudder.
‘I just need you to do something for me, Grace.’ She placed her hand on my arm.
I listened intently. Jenny did need me after all. Of course she did. I was silly to ever doubt her.
I began to feel overwhelmed with excitement at finally being able to help, to be able to do something that meant something. All the horrors of the moments in the toilet were evaporating around me. I had been there so many times already, but it never stopped hurting. I felt as though I was being physically lifted up by Jenny’s request. Sweet kind, beautiful Jenny, who needed me. The words came at me, but not in any order, I felt giddy with all the emotion.
‘Mikee… help me… favour… keep him safe…’ Jenny was looking at me and smiling then she walked to Mikee and gave him a kiss on his lips. The child, still seated on the bench worktop, responded by throwing his arms around Jenny’s waist and squeezed her with his eyes shut tightly and then Jenny was gone. She was making her way across the room to her husband.
&nbs
p; I thought of my husband taking his last items from the house, without a care for anyone and I thought about the baby that left my womb before I’d barely had time to acknowledge it.
And I realised how lost I was going to be.
I didn’t deserve that. I deserved better. I deserved to be a mother if nothing else. And that child deserved better.
I began to edge closer to Mikee. Jenny had asked me to take care of him. The husband, Mikee’s father, was a mess. I had seen those bruises for myself they had been on both Jenny and Mikee’s face. It wasn’t fair on anyone. Certainly not the little one.
As I arrived at his level, Mikee was clinging to a blue crocheted blanket. I could see he now recognised me from the weeks I had grinned at him under the counter. He gave me one of his special smiles.
‘Hi, Mikee.’ I held my hand out and Mikee thrust out one chubby arm to greet me.
‘Hi,’ he squeaked.
I knew what Jenny was saying to me, even if she didn’t speak the exact words.
I knew what I was meant to do. The messages were all there.
I bent down and put my handbag over my shoulder. Then I lifted a compliant Mikee into my arms where he closed his legs around my waist. I took a last look around the room and saw Jenny and Emily to the side of the kitchen. Jenny was standing next to Michael with her back to me, her hand tentatively placed on his shoulder as he sat on the chair sipping his tea. I headed for the door with Mikee taking one last look over my shoulder towards Jenny.
‘Mummy,’ he whispered into my shoulder as I walked out of the door and I tightened my grip and squeezed him harder.
Daisy
I could feel palpitations fluttering deeply in my chest, I felt sick. My mouth was dry from whatever Annie had last given me; it was obviously more than I had usually taken, but it wasn’t enough. My body wasn’t going to take it today. I could feel the empty heavy dragging feeling in my belly, where my son had been but a few hours earlier. I found my way downstairs and allowed my instinct to take me through the lounge, passed the kitchen door and down the hallway that I had had never needed to walk down before, towards a back door that led out to the side of the house. Then I heard the noise, the clanking, I put the light on and found I was standing on a heavy red antique rug which I had observed many times over from a distance. My attention was brought to the clanking I had heard in the bedroom, a sound I automatically associated with the age of the building and due to the amount of drugs I had been taking, I never really fully acknowledged it. But now I knew better. All those nights I had lain there and been lulled off to sleep stuck between depression and a drug-fuelled state, I presumed I was imagining the melodic structure to the sounds because I heard music so often when it wasn’t there.
