‘Excuse me.’
‘Are you okay?’ I whisper. He’s been quiet today.
‘Coming down with a cold, I think.’
‘Should you be near Adam?’ I’m alarmed.
‘I think I’ll find someone to cover me. Get some rest.’
‘It’s late,’ I say. ‘Go and have a lie down in your room. I’m not going to sleep.’
‘Adam can’t be alone.’
‘He won’t be. I’m here. The alarm will sound if there’s a problem and I’ll call you if I’m worried, I promise.’
It’s a minute before he answers. ‘Okay. I’m going to crash for a couple of hours. I’ll set my alarm but come and get me if you need me in the meantime.’
He slips out of the room. My mind races.
Thirty minutes.
That’s all I am allowed to be connected to Adam for. After that time my nose streams with blood and my head throbs. What would happen if we stayed connected for an hour? Two? Three? Adam’s condition is spider-web fragile, his mind and his body, but what about mine? Would my brain cope with prolonged exposure to the tech? Or would there be no recovery for me?
Behind my eyes are spikes of tiredness but I can’t stop wondering.
What if.
What if.
What if.
Everything I need is in the next room. Oliver has demonstrated how to set it up. How it works. How to set the timer. Somewhere in the muddle of my mind, one thought burns brighter than the rest.
I could connect to Adam again. Here. Now. Before Luis comes back and Oliver comes to send me home.
Thirty minutes.
Or the rest of the night.
The rest of my life.
If it is too much and my mind can’t cope, perhaps there is a chance I would stay with Adam. That our consciousness can be together, even if our physical bodies can’t.
I know there’s a chance that this might be dangerous. That mentally I might never come back from this. But somewhere, Adam waits for me. My baby waits for me. I imagine dressing their tiny body in the lemon sleepsuit covered in bears, still wrapped in tissue paper as fragile as my heart. I can do this, I can. I am steadfast in the belief that there is something beyond the realms of our imagination. Something extraordinary and incomprehensible to us as we live out our too-short lives on this planet we call home. I know there is something; I’ve been there and there has to be a way I can stay there for good. Here, there is nothing for me because a world without Adam doesn’t make sense to me. My need to be with my husband. My child. It overrides everything else. So what if I die trying? What I’m doing now, the way I’m feeling, is hardly living.
I’m going to find a way to reach Adam without Oliver.
I’m going to find a way to stay with him.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Anna
I had waited for twenty minutes before creeping into Luis’s room. He’d been flat out on his back, snoring. I switched off the alarm he had set. Hopefully his fever would keep him asleep for hours. It had been a struggle to slide Adam from his bed onto a trolley and from the trolley onto the table but love, the thought of being with Adam once more, had given me strength.
I hold Adam’s hand. Praying I have fixed everything up properly.
I must have done because suddenly I am falling. Dizzy. Disorientated.
Scared and confused, until…
A baby cries.
It has worked.
‘Your turn,’ Adam mumbles, nudging me in the ribs with his elbow. I sit up, ecstatic. Eager to take this turn, every turn. My heart bursting with happiness.
It has worked.
By the dim nightlight plugged in under the window, I see the outline of a Moses basket. Inside it, a small face screwed up with rage, damp curls plastered to a forehead, tiny hands fisted, is a baby.
My baby.
The room starts to spin and at first I am terrified I’m going to find myself back in the Institute. I steady myself, one hand resting on the wall, realizing I’m not going anywhere. I am, however, completely swamped with a rush of new emotions.
‘Hello, you,’ I whisper. I don’t yet know whether I’m mum to a boy or a girl, but a pure, unfiltered love sweeps through me, snatching my breath. A balance of tenderness and strength. A sudden knowing that I would lay down my life to protect theirs. It’s incredible that I feel all of this and more within seconds of becoming a mum.
A mum!
Then, another sound. The bark of a dog. My eyes are drawn to another wicker basket, this time by the door. A golden puppy clambers out with huge floppy ears and a wagging tail.
I scoop my child into my chest as Adam says, ‘Shush, Dug. It’s just Harry, hungry again.’
Harry!
Adam clicks on the lamp. His eyes are shadowed with black circles. He yawns as Dug dances around the bed, looking longingly at the door. ‘Want to go out, do you, boy? We might as well have a cuppa, now we’re all up?’
‘Well, you thought it was a good idea getting a dog.’ I try to keep my tone light but I can hear the wobble in my voice. It’s a lot to take in.
‘Yeah, well, we could hardly give him back when he was a baby gift from Josh. Anyway, you know all the books said as long as baby is here first, Dug will know he’s not in charge.’ Adam sighs as the puppy happily chews Adam’s slipper. ‘Who am I kidding? He’s totally in charge.’
‘I can go downstairs, so you can sleep?’ I offer, jigging up and down while Harry continues to cry.
‘Sleep? What’s that? Nah, it’s okay. While I’m still on paternity leave, I can catch up in the day tomorrow. I’ll go and make myself useful with the kettle. I can’t feed the baby, can I?’
Adam pads downstairs, Dug at his heels. Carefully I climb back into bed, holding Harry as though he is the most precious thing in the world.
And he is.
Nervously, I undo the buttons on my pyjama top, feeling I haven’t done this before, but of course some version of me must have because there’s no way a baby could cry as loudly as Harry without being healthy and well fed.
‘Here you go, little one.’ I draw Harry hesitantly to my breast but that’s all I need to do because he latches on all by himself. I rest back on my pillows and gaze in wonder at the rapid sucking movement of his cheeks.
Harry.
He’s named after my grandad and for the first time I have a prickle of doubt. Would Adam have picked that name?
‘Too wizardy.’ He really wasn’t keen. Is this my dream?
But I don’t think it is. Harry is dressed in a white sleepsuit with ‘Future England Player’ printed on it in red. Probably another gift from Josh. In my ideal world, my baby wouldn’t be wearing this. There wouldn’t be a puppy in the same room as my newborn, in the same house even.
I’m still feeling an odd sense of vertigo. Exhausted in a way I haven’t felt before but I don’t close my eyes for a second. I can’t stop looking at Harry. Counting his tiny fingers. Marvelling at his paper-thin nails. His eyes roll and his mouth slackens, milk dribbling down his chin. I shift my weight slightly and he is wide awake again, feeding once more, until his eyelids begin to flutter again. He is dozing by the time Adam returns with our drinks. Soon he is fast asleep. I fumble with my pyjama buttons with one hand and the movement wakes him. His eyes lock onto mine but he doesn’t cry.
‘Hey, little man. I’ve waited such a long time to meet you,’ I say, softly running my index finger across his tiny fist. He wraps his finger around mine and holds it firmly. He is surprisingly strong. I know if Adam were to turn the lights off, I would be glowing with happiness. Harry tightens his grip as though he’s telling me he loves me. His mouth flickers into a smile before it becomes a grimace, his face turns beetroot. There’s the sound of him emptying his bowels and the smell… Let’s just say he takes after Adam.
‘Nice one, son. Pass him here and I’ll change his nappy.’ Adam holds out his arms.
‘I want to do it.’ I want to do it all.
Adam p
asses me a packet of wipes and I ease Harry’s legs out of his sleepsuit. The second I remove the nappy, an arc of urine sprays me.
‘Still glad you volunteered?’ Adam says. But I am.
‘You change the sheets and I’ll give us both a quick bath. We’re soaked.’
In the bathroom I run warm water into the tub and squirt in Johnson’s Baby Bath. I ease Harry’s arms out of his sleepsuit. Wide awake now, he watches me with deep blue eyes, Adam’s eyes. I lay him on the bathmat, where he kicks his arms and legs and makes raspberry sounds while I strip off my own pyjamas. My body has changed and not for the better; purples veins criss-cross over my breasts. Red stretch marks streak my stomach. But I don’t care. I’ve grown a human. Right now, I feel like the cleverest person in the world.
‘Let’s get you clean.’ Harry doesn’t protest as I slide him into the water with me. It’s when I’m sponging his arms that I see it. The birth mark shaped like a map, almost an exact match of Adam’s. I trace it with my finger.
‘He’s destined to travel.’ Adam leans against the doorframe.
‘Maybe,’ I grin. ‘But doesn’t it feel good to be at home?’
I wake.
My eyes snap open. I’m terrified I am back in the Institute in Alircia, but I’m still in my bedroom. Adam snoring next to me. Harry cooing in his Moses basket, awake but content. A whole night. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps I am staying here for good. The thought warms me. I pad across our landing past the bookcase, which has now been built and is filled with paperbacks. A photo of Adam and me framed in silver on the top shelf. Smiling, I head downstairs and lift a frying pan from the cupboard. Bacon and eggs. On the fridge is a to-do list, the first few items crossed off, including the leaky tap. When breakfast is nearly ready, I gently shake Adam awake.
‘What have I done to deserve this?’ he asks as I set a full English in front of him. ‘You’ve just had a baby. I’m supposed to be looking after you.’
‘We can look after each other. We’re a team.’ Finally, we feel like it.
We eat in bed, our baby nestled between us. Afterwards, I lie on my side and feed Harry.
‘This… Harry,’ Adam says. ‘Us… It’s just…’ His eyes fill with tears.
‘I know.’ I smile at my husband, knowing he is feeling exactly the same things that I am. Loved. Wanted. Happy. All of the things we had thought that we weren’t.
After breakfast, we lounge on the sofa, watching Up. More than ever, I feel sorry for the old man and his wife who never got to have children. I can’t believe how much my life has been enhanced and Harry has only been in it for a day.
Adam’s hand dips into a box of sweets. ‘Toffee?’ He noisily unwraps the foil. Instinctively I begin to say no, conscious of the waistband of my yoga pants digging into soft flesh. Knowing I’m the biggest I’ve ever been, but then I chide myself for being so ridiculous. Of all the things I’ve come to realize are important, worth worrying about, my weight is somewhere near the bottom of the list.
‘Please.’ I open my mouth. Adam pops the toffee onto my tongue.
My eyes flicker constantly between the TV and Harry’s sweet face. He is fast asleep on Adam’s chest. After the film finishes we remain in the same position, reluctant to disturb him, until he begins to stir. While I feed him, Adam clears up the kitchen. When he steps back into the lounge he’s carrying a dog lead.
‘I’m going to take Dug out for a walk,’ Adam says. ‘Want to come and get some air?’
‘It might be too cold for Harry?’ I peer doubtfully out of the window. Clouds bunch in the sky but it isn’t only the weather that’s holding me back. Home is the only place I want to be. The only place I’ve ever been to in Adam’s consciousness. What would happen if we stepped outside these four walls? I’m reluctant to risk it. Adam doesn’t let it drop.
‘We’ll just go down to the park on the corner and back; Dug’s puppy legs can’t take too much exercise.’
‘I think we’ll stay here.’ Amongst my own things, safe and familiar.
‘Anna, you’ve got to go out sometime. I know it’s daunting because Harry is constantly hungry and, to be blunt, he shits himself more times a day than Josh, but I’d feel better when I go back to work knowing you’ve ventured further than the kitchen. We’ve got to take him outside sometime. This is our life now.’
Our life. It’s our home. The same and yet somehow not. It’s like the hopscotch Nell and I used to play as kids. Each time the rain would rub out our chalk marks, we’d scratch them onto the pavement again. At first glance they looked exactly the same but it’s impossible to recreate something twice. There’s always a subtle difference. It is all here. Our furniture. Our clothes. But there is something missing.
The underlying anger we’d been carrying.
The disappointment.
The way we usually skirted around each other.
It’s gone. All of it.
I smile. ‘You’re right. I’m just nervous.’
‘Don’t be. I’ve got you.’
It’s ages before we’re ready to leave. I’ve changed Harry’s nappy and the second I get him dressed, he fills it again. He’s now wrapped in so many layers he lays stiff in his pram, unable to kick his limbs.
‘A snowsuit is a little extreme?’ Adam says cautiously. ‘No, it’s fine,’ he quickly says when I begin to lift Harry up. ‘Don’t change him. Honestly, Anna, it’s taken you an hour so far and we’re only going to be out for ten minutes.’
‘I just want…’ My voice thins. ‘I just want everything to be perfect.’
‘And it is.’ Adam wraps his arms around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. ‘Now, come on, we can be back by three.’
‘What’s at three… Oh.’ Football, but oddly this doesn’t irritate me. I might even watch the match myself.
Adam pushes the pram into the hall and opens the front door. ‘Right, let’s do this. Little man, meet the world.’ Adam manoeuvres the wheels down the step. ‘It might seem big and scary but it’s pretty awesome. Like your dad actually.’
I roll my eyes and step outside, and that’s when it happens.
The world tilts and blurs and I can feel myself slipping away.
‘Adam!’ I cling on to the door frame and stretch out my arm. Adam rushes back down the path towards me. He takes my hand but I feel his fingers fading from my grasp.
I feel myself fading.
I feel nothing.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Adam
Falling. Twisting. Weightlessness.
Fighting to breathe.
Fighting to move.
Choking.
Choking.
Choking.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Oliver
The siren blares. Oliver half falls out of bed and grabs his glasses. Runs barefoot down the corridor wearing his pyjamas.
Orange flashing lights blink on and off. On and off. The noise builds and builds as he approaches Adam’s room.
‘Quick.’ Sofia beckons him inside. He can’t believe, after everything, they are losing Adam. Anna will be devastated. Oliver has come to deeply care about them both.
He rushes inside. Adam’s bed is empty. Oliver is momentarily confused until he notices light shining through the open door to the scanner room. It’s a sudden sickening realization.
No. Anna. No.
In there, Luis is hunched over the patient table.
Doing what he can.
No.
Oliver draws nearer and sickness thuds deep in his stomach as he realizes it isn’t Adam at all who is in trouble.
It’s Anna.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Adam
Drifting. Drifting.
Body heavy.
Can’t think straight.
Noise. Whooshing? The waves?
Hissing. The sound of the sea?
Something else?
A siren.
A voice.
Somebody calling Anna’s name.
&
nbsp; Chapter Fifty-Eight
Anna
‘Anna.’ Hands shake my shoulders. ‘Anna.’ Fingertips press into my pulse point on my wrist. ‘Anna. Wake up.’ But I don’t want to. Instead of Harry’s crying and Dug’s happy barking, there is the blare of the emergency siren.
I am in the last place I want to be.
Blood streams from my nose, down my throat. I choke but I don’t care. Without Adam, Harry, I am nothing. I am rolled onto my side, something pressed under my nostrils.
‘Anna.’ The voice won’t stop talking. I prise open my eyes and the light feels like a laser slicing through my brain. ‘Thank goodness.’ Oliver’s concerned face looms towards me. I close my eyes once more.
I don’t want to see.
I don’t want to speak.
I don’t want to feel.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Oliver
Oliver sits by Adam’s bed. Partly because he had promised Anna that he wouldn’t leave Adam while she slept, but mostly because he still wants to be close to her in case she needs him.
When he’d found her earlier, pale and still, blood pouring from her nose, guilt and panic had thrust through Oliver’s veins. He had thought for a second they’d lost her and he’d felt genuine sorrow for her. Then the feeling of relief that she’d been okay. The relief that he wouldn’t be held culpable for leaving the scanner room unlocked, the equipment unsecured, only came later and he hated himself for it.
He wasn’t the most important one here.
‘It was never supposed to be like this,’ Oliver tells Adam. He has spent the last hour telling Adam all about the trial. It’s a relief Adam can’t respond. He knew how he would feel if somebody had put Clem in a similar situation.
‘I wish you’d wake up, mate,’ he tells Adam before selfconsciously pushing his glasses onto his nose. The word ‘mate’ unfamiliar on his tongue, but Oliver doesn’t feel comfortable around men; he doesn’t feel comfortable around people. ‘If you’d wake up there’s a chance you could make it all real. Give Anna a baby. She’s become so attached to Harry, it’s blurred the lines between what’s real and what’s not. She won’t accept that her mind has fabricated him.’ Oliver sighs. ‘Survivor’s guilt is so common. She’s okay and she’s taking the guilt she feels and channelling it into this fake life she’s created where you’re all so happy.’
The Life We Almost Had Page 23
