From the kitchen, Abi could just see into the living room and found herself watching Gideon as she waited for the kettle to boil. He looked so different—and yet the same. He seemed much more than ten years older, his face was haggard and shadowed, and he was much too thin. She put her head on one side and watched as he flicked his hair back over his shoulder impatiently. She smiled—maybe he hadn’t changed completely. She made the tea and carried the mugs into the living room. She handed one to Gideon, then sat down cross-legged on the hearth rug again. He took a sip and gave a slight smile.
“Milk and one sugar,” he said. “You remembered.”
Abi shrugged. “Took a chance.” She bent her head forward and let her hair hide her face. Gideon smiled again and sat back in his seat.
Abi peered up at him through her hair.
“What?” she demanded suspiciously. He shook his head and took another sip of tea. Abi pushed her hair out of her eyes and surveyed him sternly. “Why are you smiling?” she persisted.
“Because you did that thing with your hair,” he said. “Hiding behind it. You always did that.” To her dismay she felt herself beginning to flush, and in her confusion she turned away from him and pretended to tend to the fire. Gideon grinned to himself and began to relax slightly. “How long have you lived here? It’s lovely.”
“Just over four years.” She didn’t turn round. “I like it. So do the dogs.” She pulled her knees up to her chin and linked her arms around them. Her mind was in complete turmoil, and she had no idea how to deal with the situation. Until the previous week she’d believed Gideon had abandoned her after she told him about the baby. Now she knew that wasn’t true. She wondered how on earth one told a complete stranger they had fathered a child with you… She ran a hand through her hair in frustration and spun to face him. She found he was watching her intently, his still-piercing blue eyes boring right into her soul. She shivered and looked back at the fire.
“Who told you where I was?” she asked eventually.
“Judy,” he said carefully. “But don’t be cross with her. I think she understood why I had to see you.” He paused and waited, but she gave no response. “She told me you never got my letters.” He paused again and corrected himself. “Well, actually, your father told me that, and Judy confirmed it.” He saw then that he had got her full attention and carried on. “Judy said you wrote to me. I never got those letters, either.”
Abi finally looked round at him, her eyes anguished.
“None of them?” she whispered.
Gideon shook his head. “None of them. She said there was something in them that you needed to tell me.”
“You saw my father?” Abi said finally, staring at him.
Gideon gave a crooked smile. “Well, sort of. He pretty much sent me away. Same as he did when I tried to see you in ’97.” He saw her whole face change. “When I was briefly back in England, I went to your house to find out why you’d left me. Your father told me you’d gone to college and that you never wanted to see me again.”
There was a very long silence while Abi digested this latest piece of information. That her father could have betrayed her like that after all she’d been through… It was beyond her understanding. She still believed he hadn’t known about the concealed letters, but clearly he wasn’t as innocent as she’d thought. Gideon was still watching her.
“So what is it you need to tell me?” he asked again, his long fingers nervously drumming on the arm of the sofa.
Abi took a deep breath and got to her feet. She pulled a chair closer to the fire and curled herself into it, facing Gideon.
“A lot happened to me after you’d gone,” she began, winding a strand of hair around her finger as she spoke. “A lot of really rather dreadful things.” She paused for a long time. “When I didn’t hear from you, I realised I couldn’t wait any longer, so I wrote to you via the record company.” Her voice wavered slightly, and she took a deep breath. “Let me show you something.” She got to her feet and pulled a large cardboard box out from under the stairs. She heaved it over to the sofa and sat down next to Gideon with the box at her feet. She pulled out a photograph and held it out to him. “Remember that?” she said with a lopsided grin. “That’s the day you left.”
He slowly took the picture in his hand and stared at the sight of his younger self—so raw, inexperienced, and confident. However sad he’d been feeling about leaving Abi, he couldn’t deny the excitement he’d been struggling to hold in check. He thought back to that day and frowned slightly.
“I always thought there was something wrong that day,” he admitted slowly. “You seemed very distracted.” He grinned and looked a bit sheepish. “I always put it down to the fact that you didn’t want me to go, but then when I never heard from you I assumed you’d been wondering how to tell me it was over.” He watched her face. “Was it something else?”
Abi was searching through the box again. She brought out another photograph and held it pressed to her chest.
“This was taken at Christmas of that year,” she said quietly and held it out to him. He turned it over and found himself staring at the young Abi, her face serious and her eyes haunted. She was standing in front of the Christmas tree and was quite clearly pregnant. Gideon felt his whole world beginning to slip away from him. He had spent the last ten years torturing himself over what had gone wrong between them, and never once had he even considered this as a possibility. He raised shadowed eyes to hers.
“You had a baby,” he managed at last. “I’m a father?”
Abi’s anguished, tear-filled eyes met his sadly.
Chapter 17
Thursday, 11th January 1996
“Abi! Calm down. You’re only a week late. It’s not the end of the world.” Judy attempted to mollify her friend as they sat in Abi’s bedroom on a cold January afternoon, playing Connect 4 to try and take their minds off the impending birth. Abi scowled at Judy and impatiently pushed her hair back off her face.
“Until you’ve had one of these inside you,” she growled, “you don’t pass comment. I feel like a balloon that’s about to burst, and there’s absolutely no single position I can get comfortable in.” She struggled to her feet again and waddled over to the window. “Oh, great, and now it’s snowing! I shall probably end up giving birth in a snowdrift half way to the clinic.” She slumped down on the window seat with a groan.
Judy concealed a smile. Abi really did look very funny, but she had completely lost her sense of humour ever since her due date had passed. She was extremely stressed because she was well aware her mother was still going to try and make her give her baby away, and she was banking on the support of Dr. Slater at the clinic on that score. She stood up again, and with her hands pressed into the small of her back she leaned backwards and groaned again.
“I am never doing this again!” she vowed, scowling at Judy.
Judy laughed. “Don’t have a go at me,” she said. “This is all your own doing.”
Abi moved over to the bed and sat down on the edge in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. As she squirmed around, the girls heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and Abi stiffened. The door flew open and Joan Thomson surveyed her daughter with a blank expression.
“Get your bag, Abigail. We’re going to the clinic now.” She turned to leave the room.
Abi struggled to her feet and held up her hand.
“Hang on,” she said. “I’m not in labour yet. What’s the idea?”
“They’re going to start you off,” said Joan with distaste. “Because you’re a week late, they think it’s for the best.” She closed the door and disappeared downstairs again.
Abi looked at Judy and raised her eyebrows.
“Can they do that?” she asked in surprise.
Judy nodded. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard Mum mention it. They do it so the baby doesn’t get too big to come out.”
Abi stared at her.
“Can that happen?” she asked, panic sounding in her voice.
Judy shrugged. “Well…I guess so, but you’re only a week late. You’ll be fine,” she said, a tinge of doubt in her voice. “Now, come on, let’s get your stuff together. I’ll help.”
She began to gather up some things she felt Abi would like to take with her.
Abi watched her in amazement.
“I’m having a baby,” she said firmly. “When am I going to have time to play Connect 4?”
Judy stopped and looked down at the game in her hand.
She grinned. “Afterwards?” she suggested, then tossed the game onto the bed and looked around for something more suitable. “Sometimes it takes a long time to have a baby,” she said, picking up items and then discarding them. “You may get bored.”
Abi picked up a CD from her bedside table.
“I want to take this,” she said quietly, holding it out to Judy. “I want to be listening to it when the baby’s born.”
Judy took it silently and put it into Abi’s bag. She knew without looking that it was NightHawk’s album, and that “Storm Rising” was the track Abi would listen to. She had started to zip the bag up when Abi thrust a notebook into her hand.
“Put that in, too,” she said. “That’s where I’ve written down my birth plan and what I want to call her. We’ll take it in case anything happens to me, and then I’ll know she has the right name,” she added rather dramatically.
Judy opened the notebook and saw the front page was covered with scribbled-out names, finally ending at the bottom with the name Natasha underlined in red and the name Storm with a question mark beside it.
“I knew about Natasha,” she said, in surprise. “What’s Storm for?”
Abi shrugged. “Well, I suppose it could be a boy,” she admitted. “So I thought that would do.”
Judy smiled, popped the notebook in the bag, and zipped it up.
“Come on, then, let’s go and get this over with. And don’t worry. No one can make you give the baby up.” She paused and squeezed Abi’s hand. “Anyway, I’ll be there, and I won’t let them.” The two girls smiled at each other and made their way downstairs. Abi’s parents were standing in the hall waiting for them, and her father reached out and took her bag from Judy.
“Thank you for your help, Judith,” said Joan with a tight smile. “You get off home, now, and we’ll take it from here.” She nodded to the girl and opened the front door.
Judy stared at her in horror.
“But I’m her birth partner!” she exclaimed, her voice wobbling. “She wants me with her.”
Abi nodded violently and clutched at Judy’s arm. Joan shook her head.
“I’m afraid things have changed a bit,” she said. “The clinic will only allow relatives in for the birth. We’ll call you when it’s all over.” She held the door wide open and indicated that Judy should leave.
Tears were pouring down Abi’s face as she tried to get her father on side.
“Dad, please tell her Judy must be there. I really need her!” she implored desperately. Arthur glanced at his wife, then shook his head firmly.
“Sorry, Abi, we have to go with what the clinic says. No friends.” He paused, and his voice softened a little. “I’ll call Judy the moment you’ve had the baby, and she can come over then.”
Reluctantly Judy allowed herself to be ushered out of the house, and on the doorstep she turned and called back to Abi, “Stay strong, Abs. Don’t let anyone bully you. I love you,” and she blew a kiss to her friend.
Sobbing uncontrollably, Abi watched her go and sank down on the stairs in despair. Judy had been her one source of strength throughout the whole pregnancy, and now she had left her at the final moment. She stared at her mother with hatred.
“I’m not going without her!” she shouted. “I need her there. I can’t do it alone.”
Joan walked over and pulled her to her feet.
“You should have thought of that nine months ago,” she said cruelly, and marched her daughter out of the house and into the car. As her father reversed out into the road, Abi saw Judy standing on the pavement watching them. She waved a desperate hand at her friend, and Judy took a hesitant step towards the car. Then it sped off down the road, leaving her standing forlorn and worried.
Abi sank back in her seat and tried to compose herself. She was now missing her most important supporter, so she needed to rely on the good nature of Dr. Slater even more. She was fairly confident the doctor wouldn’t allow her mother to take the baby away from her, but she realised she would need to be on her guard for when they tried to wear her down. She stared out the window as they turned out onto the dual-carriageway and headed off towards Reading. She frowned and leant forward to tap her father on the shoulder.
“You’re going the wrong way, Dad,” she said. “The clinic’s in the other direction.”
Her mother spoke without turning her head.
“There’s been a change of plan,” she said. “We’re not going to the Merrilees Clinic any more. I’ve booked you into a small private clinic run by a friend of mine. It’s very exclusive; you’re a lucky girl.”
Abi’s whole body tensed, and she felt the baby kick. She swallowed hard.
“But I want to go to the Merrilees,” she shrilled. “I want Dr. Slater to deliver my baby.”
Joan turned her head a little. “The doctor doesn’t do the deliveries. That’s the midwife’s job. And Dr. Slater proved somewhat of a disappointment.” She paused. “No, you’ll be much better off at the Birch Clinic with Dr. Munro. He and his wife have been friends of mine for years. She’s the midwife. They’ll take care of everything.”
Abi sank back in her seat. She was petrified. Without the support of either Judy or Dr. Slater, she was entirely in the hands of her mother, and that was terrifying. Abi knew without a doubt she would be put under huge pressure to give up her baby, and she also knew just how much of a bully her mother could be. She desperately needed to tell Judy what had happened, but she could see no way she would be able to manage that. She leant her head against the window of the car and closed her eyes. She was so tired. The overlong pregnancy had taken its toll on her young body, and she felt ready to drop. She was seriously worried she might find it hard to withstand the pressures of her domineering mother. But there was no way she was going to let anyone take this baby away from her.
****
When Judy arrived back home, her mother met her on the doorstep. She knew instantly that something was wrong.
“Judy? What is it?” she asked in concern, noting the unshed tears in her daughter’s eyes. “Is it Abi?”
Judy nodded and burst into tears. “Ye-es,” she sobbed onto her mother’s shoulder. “They won’t…let …me go…with her!” and she hiccupped violently.
Mary stroked her daughter’s head and made soothing noises.
“Is she in labour now?” she asked gently.
Judy shook her head and rubbed a hand across her nose.
“No. But she’s late, and they’re going to start her off.” She looked at her mother. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, that’s fairly normal,” she replied. “But why can’t you go? You’re her birth partner.”
Judy hiccupped again and sniffed loudly.
“Dunno. Mrs. Thomson said there’d been a change of plan, and that only family could be there for the birth. But Abi needs me, Mum,” she wailed, grabbing her mother’s arm and shaking it. “If she’s on her own, they may make her give the baby up!”
Mary patted her hand reassuringly.
“Dr. Slater will never allow that. But maybe I could run you to the clinic in a wee while, and I’ll see if I can persuade them to change their minds.”
“Oh, Mum, would you?” breathed Judy with the glimmer of a smile. “That would be brill. You’re the best mum in the world.” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek. Mary hugged her and smiled.
“You’re a good friend, Judy,” she said quietly. “I’m very proud of you.”
As they drove to the Merrilees Clinic a short time later, Judy couldn’t shake off the feeling of doom hanging over her. Abi’s face at the car window as she was driven away still haunted her, and she was desperate to see that her friend was all right. When they turned into the clinic’s car park, Judy scanned it quickly for the Saab.
“Their car’s not here.” She continued to peer around. “Mum, their car’s not here!”
Mary slid her car into a vacant space and switched off the engine.
“I expect Arthur dropped them off and then went home,” she said calmly, adding with a slight smile, “Can you really see him hanging around to watch his daughter give birth?”
Judy nodded and took a deep breath. “Come on, then, come and work your magic, Mum,” she said, and got out of the car.
The receptionist at the desk greeted them with a wide smile. “Welcome to the Merrilees Clinic,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Do you have an appointment?”
Mary smiled back and walked up to the desk.
“No,” she said in a friendly tone, “we’ve come to see Abigail Thomson. I believe she arrived about half an hour ago.” The receptionist looked blankly at her. “She’s come to have her baby,” Mary explained patiently. “My daughter is her birth partner.”
The receptionist looked in her appointment book with a puzzled expression, then picked up the phone and punched a button.
“Hello, yes, it’s Carrie. Some people are here to see Abigail Thomson. They say she’s come in to have a baby.” She paused and picked at her nail polish while she listened. “Well, I didn’t think so. What shall I tell them?...Oh, okay.” She replaced the receiver, gave Mary an automatic smile, and indicated that they should sit down. “Someone’ll be out to see you soon.”
Judy clutched at Mary’s arm.
“Mum, something’s happened!” she wailed. “She’s dead, isn’t she? Why can’t I see her?” Tears began to trickle down her cheeks.
Storm Rising Page 18
