The Antenatal Group

by Amy Bratley

  Erin, drained, stopped speaking and wiped her eyes with a tissue then covered her face with her hands. Rebecca stood and moved over to her, sat on the carpet near her feet and put one hand on her knee.

  ‘Erin,’ she said, ‘did Josiah look like you? Did he have red hair?’

  Erin looked up and smiled a little smile. She sniffed and laughed a small, sad laugh.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He had lots of hair and had a small strawberry birthmark at the bottom of his hairline. There was an autopsy, but nothing came out of that, so there was no one to blame, only myself.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Erin,’ Rebecca said. ‘This could happen to any of us.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Katy. ‘You can’t possibly blame yourself.’

  ‘No!’ said Lexi. ‘These things are totally random.’

  ‘Give yourself a break, Erin,’ said Mel. ‘You can’t possibly blame yourself.’

  ‘I know it’s irrational,’ said Erin, ‘but I did blame myself. I worried it was because of all the standing up I did as a dance teacher, or whether I’d done too much exercise early on, or, most profoundly, whether I could have saved him if I’d noticed his activity had reduced in the hours running up to the hospital visit.’

  ‘You did everything you could have done,’ said Lexi.

  ‘How did you cope afterwards?’ asked Mel softly.

  ‘It was horrible,’ she said. ‘Leaving the hospital without my baby almost killed me. My breasts filled and were very painful. In a way, I liked the physical pain, because it was tangible. But the pain in my heart and my head was indescribable. My friends tried to help me, but I couldn’t face their babies, couldn’t face them pretending not to be in love with their own newborns. Only one friend got it right. She encouraged me to hold her baby and tell her about Josiah. But, most of the time, I sat at our home in Norwich, listening for his cry. Though I knew it would never come, I strained to hear it. Sometimes I even thought I had heard it and, as mad as this sounds, I’d check the cot to see if he was there. Then, after another eighteen months had passed, we gave up trying for a baby completely and – surprise, surprise – that’s when I fell pregnant. It was then we decided to start afresh, move to Brighton, make new friends and put the past behind us. Of course, that’s easier said than done.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve been through all that,’ Mel croaked.

  ‘No, me neither,’ said Rebecca. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Erin. ‘I just wanted to be like everyone else and not be known for being the woman who lost her baby. No one knows what to say to a woman who has lost her baby. It’s not the most cheerful subject.’

  Lexi reached out for Erin’s hand and held her fingers. ‘We can imagine how you must have felt,’ she said. ‘We want you to know that you can always talk to us about Josiah. Honestly, whenever you want to talk about him, we’ll listen, won’t we, ladies?’

  ‘Of course we will,’ said Mel. ‘And we should meet up outside the classes. If you’ve only just moved to Brighton, I can show you around. I have the most amazing landlady, who has lived here for ever and knows all the best places to go.’

  Erin smiled and nodded. ‘That would be great,’ she said. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry to bring you down—’

  ‘Don’t apologize,’ said Rebecca. ‘You’re amazingly strong. So, in the antenatal class the other day, when you had spotting, I guess you were worried history was going to repeat itself?’

  ‘Yes, said Erin. ‘I’ve been terrified this entire pregnancy, and when I saw blood I completely panicked.’

  ‘And what was the blood?’ said Katy. ‘Was it all quite normal?’

  ‘Apparently it was nothing to worry about,’ said Erin. ‘I just have a minor yeast infection that irritated the cervix. Nothing else wrong, so I’m still on course for the caesarean at thirty-nine weeks.’

  ‘Well,’ said Lexi. ‘That is great news. Everything’s going to be fine, Erin. Nothing like that can happen twice.’

  ‘Didn’t you want to find out what sex you were having?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘No,’ said Erin. ‘I didn’t want to bond too much with this baby. I’ve become incredibly superstitious. Stupidly! I don’t have a name, a blanket or a nappy. Edward bought some sleepsuits but that’s all we have. But, look, you’re all being lovely and I don’t want to alarm you. What happened to me with Josiah is very rare. It won’t happen to you.’

  ‘I don’t know how you coped,’ said Rebecca. ‘You must be really strong.’

  ‘You just have to cope,’ said Erin.

  The women nodded knowingly.

  ‘That’s the thing about being female,’ said Lexi, ‘you just have to cope. And women invariably do. That’s why they give birth – they’re the stronger sex.’

  ‘I’d second that,’ said Edward, appearing at the door then walking over to Erin and resting a hand on her shoulder. She held on to his fingers loosely. ‘My wife is an amazingly strong woman. I’m sure I drive her up the wall with my un-macho ways. I’m so lucky to have her. Anyway, ladies, I don’t want to interrupt, but can I get you all a nice cup of tea and a slice of chocolate cake?’

  Chapter Seventeen

  After listening to Erin’s story, Katy felt frustratingly emotional. Humbled. Frightened. She fought the urge to cry, and told herself to get a grip. Mel and Rebecca might have soggy tissues in their hands, but she wasn’t going to join them. Yes, Erin’s story was tragic, completely awful, but it had all happened three years ago. You can’t go delving into a troubled past like that. It was a fool’s game. What was that quote Alan was always repeating?

  ‘“If you don’t look forward,”’ she remembered, ‘“you’re always in the same place.”’

  Yes. That was it. Katy poured herself another cup of tea from the pot that Edward had brought into the living room, while she took in a framed photograph of Erin dressed in a red ballgown, caught off guard applying mascara in front of a mirror in a dressing room somewhere, blurry people in the background. She looked incredible. Before Katy had come to Erin’s home, she’d pigeonholed Erin as a well-dressed but stand-offish housewife. It turned out that Erin was a glamorous professional dancer who had run her own studio back in Norwich before losing her baby boy. Got that wrong, hadn’t she? Glancing at the other women, she wondered what else she had missed. Life would be much easier if people came with a list of their life experiences with a short personal profile attached, a kind of life CV. Katy thought about hers: From a deprived background, Katy wanted to make it big to prove to everyone she could escape her roots. She succeeded.

  ‘Whose phone is that?’ Mel was asking her suddenly. ‘Is it yours, Katy?’

  Katy paused from drinking to listen and heard her mobile ringing from the pocket of her coat, which she’d left in the hallway, draped over the banister. Checking her wristwatch, she swore under her breath.

  ‘I need to get to work,’ she said, clattering her teacup on to the table of cakes and chocolates, which she had been careful to avoid eating. She left the room, picked up the phone and checked the caller ID. Anita. Returning to the living room, she saw that she had six missed calls and a text that read CRISIS followed by six exclamation marks.

  ‘Six exclamation marks?’ she said. ‘I ask you, is that ever necessary? There’s a crisis at work. Apparently. It’s not like someone’s died!’

  As soon as she said the words, she felt terrible. Her hand shot to her mouth. Erin’s eyes dropped to the floor.

  ‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry,’ she said, her cheeks burning, and hoped Erin would forgive her. ‘That was incredibly stupid of me.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Erin with a kind smile. ‘We all do that sort of thing.’

  Not knowing quite how to leave, Katy, embarrassed and flustered, gathered up her things and kissed Erin on both cheeks. She promised to see them all next week, though she did wonder briefly if any of them actually really liked her. She knew Lexi didn’t – but, anyway, what did it matter?

>   ‘Can you meet up before the next group?’ said Mel. ‘Some girls at work are giving me a baby shower, and I’d love it if you came. I need support, because none of them are pregnant and they’ll probably want to go clubbing. Can you imagine me in a nightclub? I’d probably get arrested. Worse, I might bang into Leo with a gorgeous model on his arm.’

  ‘Have you seen him?’ asked Erin. ‘Is everything still difficult between you?’

  ‘Don’t ask,’ said Mel, sighing. ‘I’ve decided to put him out of my mind for now. Actually, I told him where to go last time I saw him, because he was being too vague about us—’ She looked decidedly miserable.

  ‘Good on you for taking control,’ said Katy. ‘And, yes, let me know the details of your baby shower and I’ll try to make it.’

  Outside, Katy hurried towards the bus stop, the baby somersaulting inside her. That’s right, she told the baby, keep moving. Shaking the thought of Erin’s story from her mind – she really didn’t want to think about that – she dialled and listened to the voicemail Anita had left earlier. She must have called from her mobile while she was walking outside, because the sound of traffic and static buzzed over her words. Katy pressed the phone to her ear and heard the following: —Really can’t fucking run this business on my fucking own, Katy. You better have a bloody good reason for leaving me with the pitch for July, I’ve had enough of you going AWOL like this and—

  Katy didn’t listen to the rest. A bus pulled in at the stop and she climbed on, throwing her phone into her bag. Accepting a seat from a young woman, she rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. On the backs of her eyelids she saw Erin’s face, wet with tears. The sadness in her expression made Katy shudder. Her phone rang. She opened her eyes and looked at it. It was Anita, again. A strange, prickling sensation passed over her scalp and Katy felt her heart beating in her ears. Anita was turning into a bully and Katy didn’t know what to do about it. They had been such good friends, but ever since Anita had caught her husband having an affair with a woman he worked with, she had got angry and stayed angry. Katy hadn’t understood her decision to take her husband back. She knew that, if Alan ever strayed, she would have to tell him to leave. Not that he would stray. He just wasn’t like that. Anita had insisted that forgiving her cheating husband showed strength, but at what price? She was clearly unhappy. Sighing, Katy picked up the phone. Sometimes, even to her, the world did not make sense.

  Anita,’ said Katy. ‘I’m coming in. What’s the problem?’

  ‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Anita yelled down the phone. Katy held the phone away from her ear and widened her eyes.

  ‘Anita,’ she hissed into her phone. ‘I’ve been talking to a woman whose baby died. Please, have some patience.’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck who died!’ Anita said. ‘We have a business to run and I can’t do it all on my own. I can’t give big clients like this to Jake or Heidi. They’re too inexperienced. Have some sense, Katy! I don’t care about this stupid woman! We all have our own problems.’

  There were some days when Katy could put up with Anita and hold imaginary hands over her ears to block out her rants and raves. But today was not one of them. All she could think of was Erin.

  ‘That’s your problem, Anita,’ she said. ‘You don’t give a toss about anyone but yourself and, at the moment, you are one miserable piece of work. Why are you so angry with me? I’m working as hard as I can, I love the agency, yet you treat me like I couldn’t care less about it!’ Katy felt her face flushing red and loosened her scarf. The woman next to her was glancing at her, concerned.

  ‘I care about the business,’ Anita said. ‘You used to care, until you got bloody pregnant. Now, your brain has turned to sponge.’

  That was completely unfair. Katy had worked her heart out from the moment she knew she was pregnant. She shook her head and closed her eyes. In her mind’s eye, she could see Erin’s face as she told the story about her baby, the way Mel had moved to rub her back, the kind look in Mel’s eyes when she invited Katy to her baby shower. The two worlds – antenatal-group mums-to-be and her working life – seemed to be polar opposites.

  ‘What is this really about?’ she asked Anita. ‘I don’t believe you’re this angry about something that isn’t true. You know how hard I work.’

  There was silence.

  ‘Hello?’ Katy said, thinking Anita had hung up.

  Then Katy heard Anita snuffling down the phone. She paused and took a deep breath. ‘It’s Giovanni,’ she said. ‘He’s had another affair. This time, I’ve got to leave him.’

  Katy shook her head. All of a sudden she felt incredibly hot. ‘Okaaay,’ she said. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but I think you’re right about leaving him. What are you getting from your marriage apart from stress? Hard decision, but the right one. You can stay with me, if you like, while you sort it out.’

  ‘It’s not only that,’ Anita said in a small voice.

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘Oh it’s—’ Anita said. ‘I can’t talk about it.’

  ‘Come on!’ Katy said. ‘How long have we known each other? I don’t have any secrets from you.’

  Apart from maybe one, thought Katy. But when Giovanni had made a pass at her when he and Anita had first got together, Katy had decided to give Giovanni a chance to prove himself to Anita, rather than tell her straight away. Maybe she should have told her. Then it wouldn’t have gone on so long.

  ‘Oh, Katy,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it. The worst possible thing has happened. I’m pregnant, and I really don’t want to have a baby.’

  Katy was taken aback. Giovanni had had a vasectomy when he and Anita had first married. Neither of them had wanted children and had been one hundred per cent certain about it. Katy leaned back into her seat, watching houses and cars blur past out of the window.

  ‘You’re pregnant?’ she said, pushing her hair away from her forehead. ‘Wow, I don’t know what to say. I thought Giovanni had had a vasectomy.’

  As she said the words, she thought about the lingering, leering looks Jake was always throwing at Anita. The way he always worked late when she did. How he made sure he sat next to her when the office team went for a drink after work. She pulled a face.

  ‘He did,’ said Anita. ‘The baby’s not his. It’s Jake’s. He’s twenty-one years old. What the hell am I going to do?’

  The bus came to a sudden halt at Katy’s stop, in Brighton town centre on Station Road. Katy stood to get off the bus and grabbed hold of the handrail.

  ‘Give me ten minutes,’ she said, ‘and I’ll be in the office. We can talk.’

  She leaned over to pick up her bag from the floor. And that’s when her waters broke.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Every time she pushed open the heavy black door of the studio that Lenny and his band practised in, Rebecca felt a tremor of pride. It wasn’t every girl who had a well-known musician for a partner. It wasn’t every girl, she had convinced herself in bed over the past few nights, who would soon be able to say that her partner was going ‘on tour’. But, today even though the rest of his band – Tom, Mack and Little Dave – were sitting around waiting for him, their heads together over a magazine, in a halo of long hair and beards, Lenny wasn’t there.

  ‘How are you, Tom?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘Depressed,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Where’s the big man?’

  ‘I was going to ask you the same thing,’ she said. ‘Except I don’t call him the big man.’

  ‘Small, is he?’ said Mack, with a snigger. Rebecca rolled her eyes.

  ‘Shut up, Mack,’ said Lenny, bursting in the door. ‘I heard that. Hey, Rebecca. Was that Mel outside?’

  After hearing Erin’s story, Rebecca had felt an urge to be with Lenny and tell him how much she loved him and to hear that he loved her, too. Also, she realized, the desire to contact her parents, and specifically her mother, was stronger than before. The letter she’d eventually painstakingly written one sleepless night was in her bag. All sh
e needed was to put a stamp on the envelope, and then, the next day, her mother would know everything about Lenny and the baby. No more secrets. She knew the words in the letter off by heart.

  I’m pregnant, due in two weeks, I’m happy about this and I want you to be happy too. Lenny, my boyfriend, has proposed. He’s a musician and going on tour around Europe. I’d like me and the baby to go, too, but I’m not sure if that will be possible. I know it was my choice not to see you, but I miss you, especially now I’m going to find out what it means to be a mother. I can see life isn’t so straightforward.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’re going for a walk along the seafront. But I just wanted to see you, Lenny. I’m going to post my letter to my mum. Where were you, anyway?’

  Lenny had thrown his coat over a chair and was sitting opposite Rebecca, perched on the edge of a table, in dark-red jeans and a blue fisherman’s jumper. He pushed his hair back from his face, swung his legs and grinned at her.

  ‘Oh, you know,’ he said. ‘Doing stuff.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Mack, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘What’s that mean?’ Rebecca said, frowning. Mack often made barbed comments like this, which unsettled her, but Lenny usually laughed them off. Mack picked up his guitar and began to strum, facing away from the group and out of the window.

  ‘Who knows?’ said Lenny. ‘Nothing. Mack, you’re a prick.’

  ‘Thanks, man,’ Mack said. ‘So are you.’

  Lenny smiled and winked at Rebecca and ran his hand through his hair. She was again struck by his piercing good looks. She suffered a moment of self-doubt. Was Lenny going to love her when she’d had the baby and hadn’t got her figure back? She sighed and bit at the inside of her cheek, telling herself she was being stupid. There was nothing more unattractive than insecurity. Lenny had told her the same thing.