Joan Thomson regarded her over the top of her glasses.
“Young lady, you have much to learn about life,” she said bleakly. “I do not wish my daughter to have her friend here, and that’s an end to it.” She glanced at Dr. Munro. “I should also prefer it if this person were not attending to Abigail. I should like your wife to take over.”
Dr. Munro nodded briefly and addressed Sally. “You heard Mrs. Thomson,” he said shortly. “Your shift is now over. When you’re next on duty we shall need to have a little chat,” and he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
Sally’s mouth dropped open. “No…please, Abi needs me. She’s terrified, and I’ve gained her confidence. Please let me stay until she delivers.”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and within minutes Sally found herself outside the clinic, bag in hand, staring back at the window of Abi’s room, her heart reaching out to the terrified girl. She knew she couldn’t go against the wishes of the Munros without losing her job, and if she did lose her job she would be even less use to Abi. At least this way she would be able to return to the clinic the next day to check she was still all right. With a heavy heart, she made her way to her car and set off home, vowing to return first thing in the morning.
****
“Mum, this is impossible!” wailed Judy, as she put the phone down from the eighth clinic. So far five had denied all knowledge of Abi, one refused to give out any information about their patients, and the other two had gone straight to answerphone. “Can we go and drive to these three, just in case?” she pleaded.
Mary shook her head sorrowfully. “Sorry, Judy, they’re miles apart. We’d be out all night and then probably not find her.” She paused and glanced at the clock. “Look, it’s nearly ten thirty now. We’ll try the last two one more time, and then I think we’re going to have to call it a day.”
Judy jumped up and paced impatiently around the room.
“Mum, Abi’s relying on me! If they take her baby away, it’ll be my fault. I should be there.” She picked up her coat and ran to the door. “I’m going to see if Mr. Thomson is back yet—he must tell us.”
Mary started to go after her, then shrugged and let her go. She needed to keep trying. She sighed and picked up the phone, dialling the seventh number again. Straight to answerphone. Same result with the eighth. She was just racking her brains for anything else they could try when Judy came back. She looked dejected, her shoulders slumped, and her face crumpled.
“He’s still not there,” she said. “Maybe he stayed at the clinic after all.”
Mary seriously doubted he had and thought it was more likely he’d gone to ground at a friend’s house for the evening rather than risk being bombarded by her daughter. She walked over and put her arm around Judy’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry, love. I really don’t know what else we can do, apart from trying these other two in the morning.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Now go to bed and get some rest. You’ll be no use to Abi tomorrow otherwise. We’ll call first thing in the morning.” She smiled encouragingly at Judy. “And don’t worry. They really can’t force her to give it up, and they certainly can’t do anything before the morning. Go to bed.”
****
At just after midnight, Abi gave the final push and her baby slid out into the hands of Dr. Munro. He lifted it up by its feet.
“It’s a girl,” he remarked, then handed her to his wife.
“Can I hold her?” An exhausted Abi reached out her arms as the baby was carried briskly past her.
“No,” came the short reply from Sister Munro. “She’s not breathing yet. I need to clear her airways. You rest now.” She disappeared rapidly out of the room carrying the baby.
“But…I want to hold my baby…” whispered Abi, sweat dripping down her face. “Please let me.”
Dr. Munro came round to the head of the bed and looked down at her.
“Sometimes babies need a little help when they’re first born,” he said, not unkindly. “And that’s what Sister’s doing now. Sometimes they need a bit of help to get them breathing properly. No need to worry. You rest now. You can see her later.”
“She’s called Natasha,” Abi murmured as her eyes closed and she allowed the longed for sleep to engulf her.
Dr. Munro watched over her for a moment, and then, when he was sure she was asleep, he opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. He nodded to Joan Thomson, who was standing just outside the door, a questioning look on her face, before he walked down the corridor and into the room at the far end, closing the door behind him. Joan opened the door to Abi’s room, entered, and went to stand by her daughter. She stared down at her, pain in her eyes, hardly recognising the child she had brought up, the young body exhausted both physically and mentally by the ordeal she had just been through. As she stood there, Joan’s eyes fell on the small notebook next to Abi’s bed. She picked it up, and it fell open on the page of baby names. She scanned to the bottom, paused for a moment, then closed the book and replaced it where she’d found it. She briefly touched Abi’s hand, her lips moving soundlessly, then turned and left the room.
****
When Abi awoke the next morning, she lay for a moment wondering where on earth she was. Then she remembered, and immediately struggled to sit up. Every part of her seemed to be sore in some way or another, and she winced as she moved. She needed to see Natasha. Glancing at the clock, she was shocked to see it was nearly ten o’clock. She had slept for more than nine hours. Surely she should have been woken to feed her baby? She fancied she had heard her crying in her dreams and hoped the nurses had been looking after her all right. She reached out and pressed the bell by the side of the bed. Within moments the door opened and a nurse that Abi had not seen before entered carrying a bowl of water and a towel.
“Good morning,” she said to Abi. “I hope you slept well. I’ve come to give you a bit of a wash.”
Abi let her pull back the covers and begin to remove her stained and crumpled nightdress. The nurse began to sponge Abi’s legs gently with the warm water and patted them dry with the soft towel.
Abi smiled at her. “When can I see my baby?” she asked.
The nurse avoided her gaze and carried on with the washing.
“The doctor’ll be in to see you shortly,” she said evasively. “You need some more rest. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Abi was slightly taken aback. “No, I want my baby,” she said firmly. “I’ve been asleep for nearly ten hours, so how much rest do you think I need? Now, please, fetch me my baby.”
The nurse finished her drying and folded the towel. Then she gathered up her things and headed towards the door.
“The doctor will be in shortly,” she repeated without looking at Abi, and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Abi lay back on the pillows, her mind in a whirl. Had her worst nightmares actually come true? Had her mother already taken her baby away? Could she have done that? Urgently Abi pressed the bell by the bed and kept her finger on it, until the door opened again and Dr. Munro walked in.
“There’s no need to press it continuously,” he remarked in a mild tone as he drew a chair up at the side of the bed.
“Where’s my baby?” asked Abi shrilly. “What have you done with her? You can’t take her away from me. She’s mine!” She started to get out of bed. Dr. Munro put out a hand to stop her.
“Abigail, no one has taken your baby,” he said calmly. “However I’m afraid I do have some bad news for you.” He paused, and Abi felt the room sway around her as she turned to stare at him.
“What bad news?” she whispered. The doctor gently pushed her back so she was resting on the pillows once more.
“You remember that I told you babies sometimes need help to breathe when they’re first born?” Abi nodded silently, her throat constricting. “Well, I’m sorry to say that your baby didn’t manage to breathe. We tried all we could, but I’m afraid she couldn’t do it.” He watched her i
ntently as she took in the information, her face turning as white as the sheets. “I’m afraid your baby is dead, Abigail.”
Abi lay back on the pillows and didn’t dare to move. If she moved, then she’d have to admit she was awake and what she’d just heard was true. If she stayed still, maybe she was still asleep. Maybe she would awake in a minute and find her baby next to her. Her Natasha. Gideon’s baby.
“Abigail?” the doctor put his hand on her wrist to check her pulse. She snatched it away and pulled the covers up to her chin.
“Go away,” she croaked, staring at him with wild eyes. “Go away. Go away. Go away!” This last was screamed at the top of her voice and followed by heart-rending sobs as she realised the news was true. She pulled her pillow out from behind her and threw it violently at the doctor, then reached to pick up things from the top of her locker and hurl them across the room. Dr. Munro got to his feet and walked quickly to the door.
“Nurse,” he called urgently. “Come in here, please.”
The nurse who had washed Abi reappeared and hurried to the bed. She caught Abi’s wrists and pushed her back down onto the remaining pillow. “You must calm down,” she said firmly, holding her still. “Now, stay calm, and everything’ll be all right.”
Abi stared at her wildly, tears streaming down her face.
“Nothing is all right!” she screamed. “My baby is dead. How can things ever be all right?” She closed her eyes tightly and kicked her legs against the covers. While the nurse still held her wrists, Sister Munro appeared and gave Abi a quick injection in her arm. Abi’s eyes snapped open and she stared at the nurse.
“Are you trying to kill me now?” she demanded savagely. “What was that for?”
“Just something to calm you down,” was the reply.
As she gazed at the sea of faces standing around her bed, Abi felt suddenly powerless, and she flopped back and closed her eyes again. They had beaten her. They had won. Maybe they hadn’t actually stolen her baby, but it was the same effect. Her shoulders sagged, and she swallowed hard.
“Can I see her?” she asked in a whisper. The nurse glanced over at the doctor.
He shook his head and moved nearer to the bed. “I’m afraid not, Abi,” he said gently. “It would only upset you further. In these circumstances, we deem it wise to deal with everything for you and leave you to begin to recover.”
Abi opened her eyes and stared at him in puzzlement.
“But she’s my baby,” she persisted. “I want to see her, even if she is dead.”
“Well, you can’t, Abigail,” said another voice from the doorway, and Abi looked up to see that her mother had entered. “The doctor’s right. It wouldn’t do any good. The clinic will dispose of the body, and we’ll go home and get on with our lives.”
Abi tried to sit up and found the room spinning wildly.
“What’s happening?” she muttered, falling back onto the pillows again.
“The injection is kicking in,” replied the nurse gently. “Just go with it. You’ll feel better after another sleep.”
Abi gave in and closed her eyes. Nothing mattered anymore anyway. No one could help her now. As she drifted off to sleep again, she fancied she could hear her baby crying for her.
Chapter 18
2005
Abi poured two large glasses of Pinot Grigio and handed one to Gideon. He hadn’t spoken since she’d finished telling him about the baby, and to judge by his face, he had a lot of questions to ask her. She sat down on the hearth rug again and sipped her wine. Eventually Gideon spoke without looking at her.
“So you never held her?” he said, so softly she had to strain to catch the words.
She shook her head. “No. They wouldn’t even let me see her. Looking back, that seems very wrong, but I was so young and so distraught I didn’t know any better.”
“Does she have a grave?” he asked next, still not looking at her. She didn’t reply, and eventually he glanced up at her. She was staring into the fire, her hair falling across her face. “Abi? Does she have a grave?” he repeated gently.
Abi shook her head. “No. The clinic ‘dealt’ with everything. I was so shocked I never even thought of that until ages later.” She paused, and her voice broke as she continued, “I asked my mother, and she told me they don’t bury babies that young, they just…dispose of them there.” With a sob, she rested her head on her knees. “And I believed her. I was so stupid!”
Gideon put down his wine and knelt on the floor beside her.
“Don’t blame yourself. You weren’t stupid. You were young. Much too young for all that.” He paused, and his face grew dark. “It seems everyone took advantage of that. Oh, that must have suited your mother just fine. It meant she didn’t need to force you to give up the baby.”
Abi raised her head and looked directly at him.
“Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind that she killed her,” she said bleakly. “But I guess even she would stop short of murder.”
“What happened next?”
She shrugged. “Judy and her mother turned up at the clinic just as we were leaving. They’d finally managed to track me down.” She gave a tiny smile. “I think Judy was almost as upset as I was. She blamed herself for not being there. Stupid, of course. Then my parents took me home and made me get on with life as though nothing had happened.” She gave a short mirthless laugh. “I went back to school the next week and stayed there until I passed my A levels. Then in September of ’97 I went to Art College in Bath and never went back to my parents’ house again. Until last week, for her funeral.” She glanced up at him. “Same day you quit the band.”
Gideon leaned back against the sofa and stretched his long legs out towards the fire. He gave a heavy sigh and took a long swig of his wine.
“Hell of a week,” he said with a lopsided grin. “If I’d known it would end like this, I’d have thought twice about quitting the band.” He glanced over at Abi and was shocked at the expression on her face. “Not because of the baby,” he added hastily, reaching over and touching her on the arm. “Sorry, very bad joke. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for months. I even dream about you.”
Abi reached over, picked up the wine, and topped up her glass before she held the bottle out to Gideon.
He shook his head. “Better not,” he said with a grimace. “I’ve got to drive back to Hampshire.”
Abi frowned at him. “Not tonight, surely?” she said in surprise. “You can sleep on the sofa, if you like. It’s quite comfortable.”
In answer, he held out his glass, and she topped it up.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” he said tentatively, watching her.
“Well, I guess we’ve got a lot more to talk about,” she said calmly, adding another log to the fire. “So it does seem more sensible. D’you need to call your parents?”
He grinned at her. “We’re not teenagers now, you know,” he said with a laugh. “They’ll be fine.”
Abi grinned back. “I suppose they will. How are they? I liked your parents,” she remembered fondly.
“Same as ever,” Gideon replied. “Loving the New Forest.”
Abi was silent for a moment. “D’you want something to eat? I was going to snack, but if you’re hungry I’m sure I can find something.”
Gideon smiled at her. “Snacking is fine,” he said, his voice quiet. “Crisps, chocolate, and alcohol. That’s what rock stars live on. At least according to my mother.”
“And marijuana.” Abi raised an eyebrow. “You stink of it. Did you have one in the car?”
Gideon had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
“Erm…yes, I did. Sorry. D’you mind?”
Abi laughed. “’Course not! Haven’t had a joint for years. Almost forgotten what they smelled like,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll get some junk out to eat, shall I? We can picnic by the fire.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Gideon stared into the fire and sipped his wine. He had taken
in so much life-changing information over the last couple of hours that he really felt he’d lost complete control of his life. He could still hardly take in what Abi had just told him. He’d been a father, albeit for a very short time, and he’d known nothing about it. A tiny part of him wanted to get up, leave, and just keep running, but another much stronger part was curious to stay. Although Abi had changed dramatically over the last ten years, he had seen enough hints of the girl he fell in love with for him to want to talk more. He had to admit he was scared, and he hadn’t felt quite like that since the day back in ’96 when he finally believed he’d lost her.
In the kitchen Abi was noisily unwrapping crisps and dips and arranging them all on a tray. She was unnerved to see her hands were shaking, and she stopped for a moment and leant against the worktop, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. It had really taken it out of her, retelling the story of the baby’s birth, and she was also trying hard to come to terms with the fact that Gideon was actually sitting in her living room, drinking her wine. She had dreamt of this day for so long, yet now it was here she was terrified. He seemed so much older and darker. His piercing eyes held a look of deep sadness, and his whole demeanour was one of mild despair. She accepted that her stories hadn’t helped, but she also realised they still had a lot to talk about. She took a deep breath, picked up the tray, and carried it through to the living room.
“Here we go,” she said with forced cheerfulness, placing the tray on the floor in front of Gideon. “Get stuck in. I’ll see if there’s some more wine.”
She slipped back into the kitchen, returning moments later with a new bottle. She sat down cross-legged on the floor opposite Gideon and picked up her glass and raised it to him.
“To…old times,” she said quietly. He hesitated for a moment, then raised his glass and gently touched it to hers. He finished the wine in one gulp and placed the glass on the floor beside him.
For the next twenty minutes they ate and drank in silence, sleepily watching the fire burn down and listening to the dogs whimpering in their sleep. Then Abi stood up and stretched.
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