by kendra Smith
I can’t seem to get him out of my mind. It’s driving me crazy – having all this time here, to think, to ‘rest’, to mope about… I can’t help logging onto his website and looking at his picture, his smiley face with his sunglasses pushed up sexily on his head, and remembering the fun we had. Part of a team. My one and only time I’ve ever felt part of something bigger than me, that meant more to me than I realised – I wasn’t imagining it, was I? We clicked, I know we did; there was something there. Tears are forever just brimming on the edges of my eyes.
‘Señora!’ Ramone jolts me out of my thoughts. He’s standing in the doorway to my bedroom with a tray and some post. The first one is a letter from my neighbour’s insurance company, explaining that there are no charges to pay for the accident, thank goodness. Mike’s been so nice. He popped a note under the door not long after the accident to say that everything had been ‘sorted’ and I wasn’t to worry. That he’d seen Paul around a few times and didn’t want to give me any more stress – but I must owe him for the van? I need to sort that out.
Ramone hands me a letter in a creamy white envelope. I open it and pull out a silver card.
You are cordially invited to Dawn’s Surprise 50th Masked Ball Birthday Bash.
The Metro Hotel, London.
Date: 28th September.
Time: 8 p.m.
Carriages at midnight.
Light canapés and champagne.
Dress: masks and dancing shoes!
I turn the invite over. There’s a handwritten note on the back.
PS: Do not mention a word to Dawn!
PPS: I might need a hand with the decorating!
Eric
What a wonderful man Eric is. I put the invite carefully on my bedside table and look outside to the cornflower blue sky. How wonderful organising something like that, to have a partner who thinks about you, to have that relationship with someone who would do that for you. To have someone who cares. I can’t help my mind wandering to Daniel and my heart leaps suddenly. I wonder if he will be there, at the ball?
‘Señorita Charlie?’ Ramone is standing next to my bed, the tray in his hands.
‘I make you the cheese croquettes. Meez Suzie, she no like, but I think you like – good for baby! I leave some for Tyler, too, in ze fridge.’ And he places a napkin on my knee. There are crispy, fat, golden croquettes on my plate, with cherry tomatoes cut up finely and drizzled in olive oil. And a cup of milky tea with one sugar, just how I like it. I bet he won’t be there. It’s tragic that I’m getting my hopes up. It’s too much with Ramone’s kindness and I feel tears threaten.
‘Why so sad, Señorita? You get party invite, no?’ he says nodding to the silver embossed card on the bedside table. ‘You should be happy! You are going to ze ball, how you say, Cindyella! Is it a ball?’ He frowns.
‘Kind of,’ I sniff and smile up at him. ‘A masked ball. Dawn’s fiftieth birthday.’ I show him the card.
‘Mask? Like in Italy, sí? Venice?’
‘Yes, Ramone, but with a lot more glitter!’
‘Ah, sí. I make for you? You will be queen of the ball, not like Dawn, she old, no?’
I laugh. ‘She’s lovely, Ramone.’
‘Sí, lovely, but old. Not like you, Señorita, you young, pretty!’ He sits next to me on the bed and touches my chin. ‘Hey, you not just worried about baby, are you? Ramone can tell.’
He’s being so nice. At thirty-three weeks pregnant and lonely, I’ve been holding on to these feelings for all these weeks, toughing it out, hoping I’d wake up one day and be over Daniel, that I’d be better. I simply can’t talk to Tyler about Daniel; I daren’t talk to Dawn about him as she might tell him. Suddenly I start to weep. I weep for Daniel, I weep for the baby that I can’t keep, I weep for all the things I can’t have. Ramone removes the tray.
‘No, it’s not just the baby, it’s—’
‘Ze man, no? Daniel?’
I nod. ‘I – I – it’s hard to explain, Ramone, I just—’
‘Love him, sí?’
I take a sharp breath. I do. And I’m scared of these feelings, but it was so different with him, not like anyone else I’ve ever, ever met.
‘It’s as if I already knew him before I met him, you know?’ I wipe my eyes.
Ramone nods. ‘Sí.’
‘But after all the driving lessons, the row with Suzie, the accident. Oh dear, I don’t know what he thinks.’ I shrug. ‘One minute he was fine, we were getting along, laughing, sharing jokes – and then, somehow, something’s not right. He just – well, he’s not contacted me. I think when he found out about the surrogacy—’ I point to my belly ‘—he just didn’t want to know.’
‘Ah, Señorita, you don’t know, it may be, how you say, he cannot tell you how he feel?’
‘I think I know how he feels, Ramone.’
He lets out a low whistle. ‘That is, how you say, ticky.’
‘Tricky.’ I smile at him.
‘I know,’ Ramone suddenly says, sitting up straighter, ‘the party – you will have zee baby by then, you can relax, no? I help you find outfit? Yes? This Mr Daniel, he no look at another Señorita at the party, sí? I find you outfit, you like, OK – it something to make you happy, no? We will go shopping!’
He says ‘shopping’ like he’s suggested an audience with the king of Spain. To me, it will be torture. I shrug at Ramone. ‘I don’t know if he’ll even be there, but yes.’ I smile, and take the tray back from him. Suddenly I’m very hungry and I realise something – it won’t be like torture. I look at Ramone. ‘I’d like that very much, for you to help me find a dress.’
Ramone seems delighted. He walks up to the chair in my bedroom and puffs up the cushion. I look out the window again and see the dust motes, caught in the sunshine, dancing around in front of it. I can’t help feeling a bit like a modern-day Cinderella.
64
Dawn
Dawn glanced at her watch: ten o’clock. It was so unusual for Eric to be out this late on a Tuesday. Where was he? She swilled some water around in the washing-up bowl. Joyce had gone to bed saying she had a headache and that she’d read Angelina Ballerina with Alice for over half an hour. Felix was sound asleep, too. Dawn had checked him in bed and found him cuddling a Nerf Gun under his blanket. When she tried to remove it, his hands had gripped it even tighter. She’d decided to leave it and planted a kiss on his head and walked out humming to herself. She loved her children.
She’d had a fantastic class earlier, and now her thigh muscles hurt, but in a good way. She found it quite exhilarating, all this spinning. It had been several months now, and she’d really got the hang of it. Who would ever have guessed that Dawn Hughes would now be in the front row? She just loved those lights, the thumping music. She realised it made her feel alive!
She held on to the sink. Well, she might be a superstar spinner at the gym, but here she was with her Mum hat firmly on, wiping up cat vomit. What in heaven’s name had Joyce fed the cat this time? She glanced over at the recycling bin and saw a carton of luxury chicken madras upside down and empty. Surely not? But even that couldn’t stop her humming and trying not to smile, remembering, if she was honest, that she had been so thrilled because Rex had asked her for a coffee – and a chat – after the class and, rather than say no, no thank you, I’m married and so are you to one of my good friends, she’d agreed. She’d looked him straight in those green eyes and had said that she’d love to as her stomach had done a little flip.
They’d sat next to the open glass doors at the gym coffee shop for over an hour. She’d enjoyed chatting to him as the late afternoon breeze swirled around her bare shoulders. They’d both ordered iced tea. That was innocent enough, wasn’t it? If she was being unfaithful she’d hardly choose a coffee shop in a gym, would she? She’d hardly flirt in public, would she? Would she?
Yes, but why were you so excited that he’d asked you? That annoying bit of her brain was nagging her again. She was only helping out, wasn’t she? Being a wi
lling listener to all his woes about how neurotic Suzie was and she had tried her best to put him right. She felt a pang of guilt nevertheless.
‘Dawn!’
She jumped. Eric stood, swaying in the doorway.
‘Eric? Are you all right? I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘No, well, there’s a lot you didn’t hear aboush,’ he said, slurring his words and wandering over to the chair in the corner.
‘Eric, where on earth have you been? Perhaps you’ve been out with a client?’ She couldn’t help some venom creeping into her voice. ‘Are you drunk?’ She noticed that each button on his shirt was buttoned up to the wrong buttonhole.
She could feel the anger bubble up, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing him how it made her feel.
‘What! No idea what you’re bloody well talking about.’
Eric never swore!
‘Never mind where I’ve been… how about you? You and your fancy spinning classes!’
‘What do you mean?’ she said, feeling her cheeks burn as she turned back towards the sink to rinse the vomit out of the cloth and to hide her flushed face.
‘You know what I mean. I was doing some work for the Rosemount Club. They wanted a quote today – all the lavender there needs replacing. I wash walking round the grounds, round the BACK of the club, past the coffshee shop. And I shaw you—’ He sat with a thump in the chair. He pulled over the half-empty bottle of wine and poured a glass. Red wine sloshed onto the table.
‘Saw me what?’ She froze, mid-washing up. What had he seen?
‘You and bloody Rex, all cosied up, heads together…’
‘Eric, honestly!’ This was bloody well the pot calling the kettle black.
‘I was just chatting to him about Suzie. She’s so wrapped up with the whole surrogacy thing, I-I-I don’t think she realises what she’s doing to her marriage,’ Dawn said, grappling with what she would say next. Rex was hurt by Suzie, he had been talking to her about his marriage… and yet, that wasn’t all, was it?
‘Well, all I know is that you should think about your marriage a bit more, shouldn’t you?’ he said, getting up off the chair and coming over to her.
‘What do you mean?’ She turned around.
‘All those bloody chicken fillets in the bra—’ His breath stank of whisky. ‘When what I could do with is having you at home, cosying up to me!’ he slurred and leaned in to her and she could smell both a different kind of fragrance – perfume? Was that really perfume? – and whisky. That did it.
‘And what about me? Have you thought about me with all your ‘accountancy’ you’re doing?’ She was trembling. ‘I’ve had it, Eric.’ She threw the cloth in the sink. ‘Where are you on Friday nights? I’m not stupid, you know – I know you’ve got another woman.’ As she said the last bit she thumped a mug onto the draining board where it smashed.
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about!’ he shouted, bumping into the doorframe on the way out. And with that he flicked off the light.
I bloody well do, Eric. And I might just have plans of my own, she whispered to herself, as the cat twisted around her ankles in the dark.
65
Charlie
Suzie is standing on my sunny porch with a cheery smile, several OK! magazines and a Soap Star Quiz book tucked under her arm. She is wearing a blue and white embroidered cotton sundress with a square neck. She also has a bunch of sunflowers. She is the last person I want to see. And I hate sunflowers.
‘Thought you might be bored, what with being confined to this house so much.’ She laughs, and walks straight past me. ‘God, it’s hot! Wow, Ramone’s been busy!’ Her eyes dart from the living room to the kitchen. They sweep across the hall and take in the shoes in pairs, the coats hung up on the rack and the sparkling windows. Ramone has been not only a great help round the house, he’s also been a very patient agony uncle, listening to all my whinging and heartache, giving me bits of advice at times, watching soaps on TV and pretending to not just understand them, but like them too. At thirty-six weeks pregnant, I don’t think I’m very good company but he doesn’t complain.
‘Yeah well, thanks, it hasn’t really been a picnic recently as I’ve been so huge, and the hospital don’t want my blood pressure to go up any more – especially as I had high blood pressure last time.’
‘Oh God, high blood pressure – again? Is everything OK?’ Suzie’s eyes are wide.
‘What for me or the baby?’
Suzie blinks a few times. ‘For both of you, of course.’ She smiles. ‘Cup of tea? I’ll make it.’ She is trying her best – I shouldn’t be such a bitch.
I can hear Suzie clatter around the kitchen. There’s a lot of opening and shutting of cupboards and sighing. Let her look for things, I don’t care. I don’t really want that woman in my kitchen.
‘Charlie, I’ve just opened your windows in the kitchen; it’s really hot in here. The chap on the weather says it might be the hottest July we’ve had for a few years. Where’s your milk, by the way?’
‘Look on the table. Tyler never puts it away.’
‘Oh!’ Suzie yelps.
What now? I get up from the couch and waddle through.
‘Gosh, you’ve got some cheese in here, Charlie, next to the raw chicken. I just think—’
‘What?’ I want to scream with the pressure, of always being under the microscope.
‘Well, you know, salmonella—’
‘Will you stop being so controlling!’
‘Charlie, you don’t give me any choice! Look what happened when you decided you could drive!’ She slams the fridge door shut.
‘Don’t mention that again! It was an accident, an error – I was so scared for Tyler!’
Suzie turns around abruptly from the fridge and folds her arms across her chest. Her perfectly manicured nails are digging in to her arms as she stares at me. The sunflowers lie on the draining board, their cheery faces mocking the mood of the room.
I can’t help it. ‘If you carry on like this, frankly, I’ve a good mind to keep this baby,’ I whisper. ‘Poor thing. It will be hell having a mother like you!’
‘How dare you say that!’ Suzie’s voice cracks. ‘That’s been your plan all along, to take the money and then keep the baby! Oh my God. Look. There! What are you playing at?’ She points to the scan picture in the glittery silver frame on the fridge.
‘What kind of person do you think I am, Suzie? I may be messier than you, I may be a bit disorganised and yes, I admit, I do have feelings for the baby, of course I do but—’
‘What?’
‘Well I just can’t face all these battles. If we are to carry on for the last few weeks – you’re just being too much—’
‘Exactly,’ Suzie cuts in sharply, ‘that’s why I came here with magazines and flowers.’
She’s right. I just feel exhausted with it all. I’m being a cow and I’m a hormonal mess. I haven’t slept well. It’s been so hot and I’ve had lower backache all night and didn’t want to take any pills, just to be on the safe side. I clutch the side of my belly; there’s a nagging pain there. ‘I just need to sit down,’ I say and make my way back to the lounge.
‘Of course, I’ll bring your tea,’ Suzie says gently after me.
When she appears in the lounge holding a cup of tea and two biscuits on a plate, I am overwhelmed with exhaustion. ‘Thank you,’ I say and take the tea.
She sits across from me, crosses her legs and yanks down her summery dress. I take a bite of biscuit as another sensation surfaces – I can’t quite believe it.
‘Suzie, I—’
‘What?’
‘Oh no, oh crap.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Suzie’s sits bolt upright.
‘Oh shit.’
‘What, Charlie?’ She stands up.
‘My waters just broke – I think.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Suzie looks at me with saucer-wide eyes and flushed cheeks. ‘You must be joking.’
‘There is absolutely no way I’m jok— Oh Christ.’ I feel another escape of fluid and start to stagger to the downstairs toilet.
‘Let me help you.’ Suzie is suddenly by my side, her hand on my elbow.
With that the cat wanders past and winds itself around Suzie’s ankles. ‘Get away! Blasted cat!’ she shrieks.
I feel a shooting pain across my back and clutch Suzie. ‘Help me to the toilet, will you?’ I say.
‘You can’t have the baby now. It isn’t due yet, it’s due in four weeks! I wrote it on my planner!’
‘They do come early you know – they don’t read the textbooks, or birthing plans written out by Intended Parents… Tyler was also four weeks ear— Oh God, that hurt,’ I say scrunching up my eyes.
‘Was he?’ Suzie’s voice is a whisper. ‘You didn’t tell me!’
‘You didn’t ask!’
Another cramp-like pain is now spreading across my belly. ‘That was definitely a contraction…’ I squeeze my eyes shut with the pain.
‘What? No! OK! We need to time them. I’ve been looking all this up. Right, you tell me when there’s another one, OK?’
‘I think you’ll know…’ I sort of laugh, then suddenly I feel like I might throw up.
‘Oh no.’
‘What now?’ squeaks Suzie.
‘Suzie, you need to calm down, oh God, I’m going to be—’ But there was no time to tell Suzie that one of the things I’d forgotten about giving birth to Tyler was that I’d thrown up violently, and here I am doing it again.
‘Good grief, Charlie, are you all right?’
I cling to the toilet bowl. It is definitely not all right. But I’m in labour and I’m getting rid of anything I don’t need for the task ahead – including my lunch. I sink down on my knees onto all fours – it’s more comfortable that way.
‘What are you doing?’ Suzie seems more alarmed at this. ‘Right. We need to call the consultant, the midwife, the doctor – what are their numbers?’
‘I’m not sure there’s time – OK, another contraction,’ I wince. ‘Suzie.’ I look up at her from the floor; she’s clinging on to the washbasin and all the colour has drained from her face.
