by Adele Parks
I’m sorry, my love. Sorry, sorry a hundred times over. Sorry about what I said last night about you not caring about Liam the way I do. I’m sorry that I never told you about Rob and that I invited Abi into our lives and that Liam thinks he’s in love with her. The one thing I didn’t do is send Rob the video. I’d never gamble with Liam’s future, I’d never put him, or any of our children, in jeopardy. Since the moment he was born I’ve done everything I could to look after him. You know that.
I love you.
Mel
I carefully fold the letter into three and slide it into an envelope. I address it and find a stamp. Even though it’s one a.m., I pull on a coat over my pyjamas and walk around the corner to put the letter in the post. I do so without re-reading it or thinking about it further. I’ve hesitated for long enough.
44
Melanie
Monday 23rd April
It takes me until Monday, at around the time others would recognise as lunchtime, to force myself out of bed and into the shower. I smell bad enough to bother myself. I’m just lathering shampoo into my hair when I hear a beep from my phone announcing the arrival of a text message. Ben! Liam! I almost slip as I scramble out of the shower. My wet footprints make a Hansel and Gretel trail as I dash, naked, to my bedside table. My legs nearly buckle beneath me as I have been so slow and inert all weekend. I reach for my phone. Ben can’t have received my letter yet but still I wish for it to be him, texting to say he’s coming home to me so we can talk. I hope so, or I hope it’s from Liam, telling me the same. The name Gillian Burton flashes on to my screen. Normally I’m delighted to get a message from her, today frustration shimmies through my body. I start to second guess why she might be messaging; maybe she wants to suggest an afternoon in the park with the girls. What will I tell her?
The text reads Congratulations?!
It’s a bit cryptic for me. What in the world can she be congratulating me on? Did Imogen do something impressive at school last week that I ought to be aware of? I can’t be bothered to fake it. I text back.
?!?
Her reply is instant. Facebook now. Liam’s page. Call me!
Oh shit. Obviously, the cat is out of the bag. Liam has probably done something absolutely stupid like changed his status to ‘in a relationship’ and tagged Abi. I haven’t mentioned any of this mess to Gillian or Becky, yet. I don’t know where to start, it is all too embarrassing. Liam is not very into Facebook, he says it’s old fashioned and for my generation, not his, but it is useful for keeping up to speed with his football club’s training schedule. Gillian is addicted to Facebook and posts five or six times a day; she constantly combs friends of friends for new contacts. I know she sent Liam a friend request last year and he accepted it, just to be polite. If she had a teenager of her own she’d realise how deeply uncool it was to send him the request. She does on occasion snoop around his page.
With soap still in my hair, I reach for my robe. I stumble downstairs into the kitchen and sit in front of the family computer. I fire it up, go to my Facebook page and then to Liam’s. I feel so done in, beaten. It’s inevitable that this news about Abi will ooze out like a bad smell. Although, if he’s posted his acting debut, that would be beyond awful.
I notice the stream of comments that read, Congratulations! and Wow? and Good luck with that mate!?! Many messages have question marks or exclamation marks, which is unsettling. It’s never easy to interpret the intended tone of messages on Facebook, especially those left by teens, they’re so often heavily laden with sharp irony or heavy sarcasm. There are dozens and dozens of them. I recognise some of the people who have posted comments. Liam’s friends, Tanya’s friends. Tanya’s best friend, Marsha has written: Seriously?! What can I say? Congrats?! I start to wonder whether maybe Liam and Tanya might be back together. That would account for Marsha’s tone. Supportive but a touch reluctant, sceptical, concerned for her recently wounded bestie. Is it too much to hope? Has he come to his senses? A ray of optimism worms its way into my heavy heart when I read, So you two are back together? And then, What did her mother say? I scroll to see what Liam has written to prompt such an outpouring, and then I see it. Posted just an hour ago.
My girlfriend has just told me she’s having a baby. Apparently, I’m going to be a daddy.
45
Melanie
Tanya is pregnant. I can hardly take it in. One shock after the next. This. This of all things. I feel like I’ve somehow conjured it after spending so much time recently thinking about my own teenage pregnancy, although of course, that’s ridiculous. I do know that’s not how babies are made.
Liam’s number is stored at the top of my phone. My number one favourite. Ben teases me about this all the time, says his number should be first, but Liam was the one who did the storing of numbers and so naturally he put his own in the premier position. I only have to press favourites, then 1. Two buttons, but I’m shaking so much that I jab at the phone four, five times before I’m connected. I go straight through to his voicemail – it’s what I expected. He’ll have seen it’s me calling and be blanking me. I call him again, then a third, fourth, fifth time. On the sixth occasion, I leave a message because I’m afraid he’ll switch his phone off soon and I’ll altogether lose my chance to speak to him.
‘Liam sweetheart, I know you are angry with me right now.’ I want to say I’m angry with him too but it’s not the moment. I can’t risk scaring him away. He needs to know he has a friend and ally in me. I take a deep breath and be the parent. ‘Please, please can you call me. I’ve seen your Facebook page. Please.’
My voice breaks on the final please. I no doubt sound shattered, pathetic. Maybe that’s what finally tugs on his conscience because after just thirty minutes of me sat staring at the phone, he sends a text saying we can meet if I want. I text back and say of course I want, where? He suggests the café at the local park, the one where I used to take him to play as a child, the one where he plays football now. I nearly run out of the door there and then but remember just in time that I’m not wearing anything more than my robe and I still have soap in my hair. I haven’t brushed my teeth. I dash up the stairs and quickly prepare myself.
Although, how can I prepare myself?
He is sat on a bench outside the café, waiting for me. I glance about but can’t spot Abi and I’m relieved and pleased. Could I be right? Has this news of Tanya’s pregnancy changed everything? Well, it must have. This is an added complication, no one would have wished for it, yet – and this is low of me to admit – I can see an advantage to this latest turn of events. No matter what Tanya and Liam decide they want to do about this pregnancy, they have to decide together. This will remind Liam that Tanya is his focus; she has been his girlfriend for months now, almost a year. That’s forever if you are a teen. Abi is simply a distraction. A heady, irresistible flirtation that has got out of hand. Not a relationship that can have any sort of future. Tanya and Liam are a suited, legitimate couple. A challenged couple, at this exact moment in time, I admit, but they are not the first young couple to find themselves in this position. I can and will help them through this. I’ll be at his side again, where a mother should be.
There are countless mothers buzzing about with their small children, repeatedly walking a tottering toddler up the steps of the slide or holding them tenderly, tightly as they bounce on a seesaw. I recall the hours I spent pushing Liam on the swing, catching him as he sped down the slide. Basic parenting, the easy bit. Some of the parents look involved and delighted, most look a little bored. This isn’t a reflection on the depth of their love for their children, it’s just that the familiarity of the action can mean it becomes automatic; the mothers will be thinking about shopping lists, work problems, orthodontic appointments, what to serve for tea. I don’t know exactly, it could be a myriad of things, but they will be thinking about their children.
I hurry towards Liam, drawn to him, as though he is a magnet and I’m just a shaving. Despite his angry accusations on Fr
iday night, I want to throw my arms around him, hold him close. Kiss his forehead. He doesn’t notice me approach because he is sat forward on the bench, also looking at the children playing on the swings. I guess he’s contemplating fatherhood. So soon, so soon. I was nineteen when I found out I was going to be a mother, young. That seems like a grand old age compared to seventeen – at least I had my A-levels under my belt.
I sit down beside him and he starts, surprised. For a flash of a second he looks pleased to see me, relieved. Then he remembers where we are and pulls his face into something more guarded and apart.
I don’t suggest we move inside for a coffee – I doubt I could swallow and I don’t want our conversation further inhibited by the proximity of other people, sitting at densely packed tables. I don’t waste time with a preamble. I pile in.
‘So, Tanya is pregnant. It’s OK, Liam. I’m the last person to judge.’
‘What the—’
I interrupt him. ‘Obviously, a teenage pregnancy is a serious matter but I feel I can help. Me more than most.’ He looks disbelieving, which is hurtful. I know we are going through a bad patch but surely, he understands he can count on me, especially in this particular situation. I push on. ‘I remember, as if it was yesterday, how scared I was when I discovered I was pregnant with you. I don’t want you or Tanya to feel as alone. I promise I won’t push an agenda. I just want to help,’ I add.
Liam stares at me, his expression now fat with disdain. He sighs. It’s weighty, dark. ‘No Mum, you’ve got it all wrong as usual. You only see what you want to see and from your own blinkered perspective.’
Mentally, I recoil from his words but I try not to physically flinch. I mustn’t show him how much he’s hurting me. He’s just a kid. I know that, even if he’s old enough to get his girlfriend pregnant, he’s still a kid and he needs me.
‘Your dad and I will support you and Tanya. No matter what you decide.’
I’m heartened by his post – at least he’s not going to repeat history and do as Rob did, he’s not going to shirk his responsibilities – but they need to take a breath. The Facebook announcement was possibly a little premature. A little immature. I smile at him, encouragingly.
‘Is that right?’ he asks.
‘Of course. I mean, I know you said you’re going to be a daddy but there are other options. You need to think those through, too. Both of you. We can talk about it. She doesn’t have to do what I did. She could—’
‘Oh, thanks Mum, thanks a bundle. You wish you’d aborted me. Is that what you are saying?’ His face is twisted, insulted, wounded.
‘No, no absolutely not. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad I decided to have you. It was the right decision for me. I’m just saying that it might not be the right decision for Tanya. She doesn’t have to feel it’s the only way, just because it was my way. Being a young mum is hard.’
‘Well, cheers Mum, this little chat has been really enlightening,’ he says sarcastically. ‘So good to know how you really feel about everything, but you don’t need to worry. Tanya isn’t going to be a young mum.’ He stands up, towers above me.
Confused, I stutter, ‘I saw your Facebook status. You said, My girlfriend is having a baby. I’m going to be a daddy. Is it a joke?’
Liam sighs, shakes his head. ‘Abi is my girlfriend. She is pregnant. She is going to be a mum.’
I can’t take this in, it’s unimaginable. ‘But people were congratulating you, asking if you’d got back together, asking what her mum thought of it. They were referring to Tanya.’
‘Well, not everyone is up to speed with the Abi and me situation. They just assumed.’ He shrugs. ‘But you are up to speed, Mum, so what were you thinking?’
I guess I wasn’t thinking. I guess I was hoping. Lack of sleep combined with severe emotional turmoil, I leapt onto the scenario I most wanted to believe.
Liam continues, ‘Why did you even come here?’ His tone is accusatory; I’ve disappointed him.
‘To support you,’ I mutter.
‘But I guess that was conditional support, right? Now that Abi is my baby’s mummy you are going to turn into a nightmare again.’ I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing I can say that he wants to hear. I clamp my mouth closed and stare at my feet.
‘I don’t understand why you won’t give her a chance. The age thing is not such a big deal.’ I still can’t find any words. He shakes his head, sad. ‘I shouldn’t have come here. I thought you were going to be more reasonable. You know she’s incredible. She was your best friend. Why are you surprised that I find her incredible?’
He makes it sound reasonable. I’m almost lulled into the belief that it is. He goes on.
‘You know, she really gets me. Gets me in a way that no one ever has.’
‘Why do you say that?’ The words squeeze their way out of my mouth, clawing at my throat.
‘We were talking about Austin and she said something that showed so much perception and heart. You know.’ For the first time in this conversation he looks hopeful. He’s hoping I’ll understand. His eyes are gleaming. Bright, alive. When he thinks of her, he is hopeful.
‘What did she say?’ I ask.
He looks shy, a child again. ‘You won’t get it,’ he mumbles.
I’m hurt, he’s pushing me away again, but I pursue him. ‘Try me.’
‘I still feel so guilty about Austin. Guilty and just so fucking sad.’ His eyes flash with sorrow and aching. I nod. ‘I miss him. And, it’s my fault he’s dead.’
‘Because you asked him to go to the party?’ I murmur. We have talked about this before. I’ve told Liam again and again that he wasn’t to blame for inviting Austin along.
‘Yes, that but also—’ He breaks off. Looks about him. The afternoon is still warm, children are shouting and laughing as they play, I can hear an ice-cream van’s bell announcing its arrival. It’s a good day to be alive. ‘You know Austin was gay, right? But struggling to come out.’
‘Yes.’
‘Abi said something that I’ve always sort of thought, feared. Something I’ve never wanted to face.’
‘What did she say?’
He smiles, regretfully, modestly. He’s a beautiful boy. ‘She said it was me Austin was in love with. That’s why he came along to the party, to be around me, and that’s why he couldn’t come out, because he was worried how it would affect me and our friendship.’
‘Abi said that, did she?’ My words. She used my words to reach Liam.
‘Yes, insightful, huh? And she told me that I’m not to blame.’
‘You’re not.’
‘You thought I was over Austin’s death. Everyone did, but I’ll never completely get over it. She gets that. She sort of goes deeper than anyone else. She really knows me.’
I hear his criticism of me, of Ben. We did not think he was over Austin’s death but somehow, we have allowed a gap to open up in his world and we haven’t been able to plug it. Did we give up too easily? Did we stop talking to him too early? I was the one who mooted this theory to Abi. Her articulating it to Liam has thrown her into such a flattering light: perceptive, compassionate, understanding. I should have dared to talk to him about it but I was treading carefully, trying not to burden him; instead I abandoned him. I cannot believe she’s used Austin’s death as part of her seduction of my son.
‘She’s a really beautiful person, Mum. Selfless. Why can’t you see it?’ I shake my head. He waits for me to say something but I don’t have words. ‘She’s having my baby. You need to get used to the idea and if you can’t, then we’re done.’
Before I can say anything more, he stands up and strides away.
I watch his back as he disappears into the crowds.
46
Abigail
Abigail floated around the apartment. Their new home. From the moment the estate agent had shown her around she had hoped for great things from this place. She’d imagined it would be a fun love nest, a place where she made love with Liam and war w
ith Mel. She had not dared to dream that everything would be so changed, so wonderful, so perfect and so soon! She had anticipated it would take a lot more time, but she’d been given a gift early. Early, and yet late. Unexpected, although much anticipated. How could something she’d longed for take her by surprise? At last! At last! The life she deserved. The life she was owed had begun.
It was a high-spec flat, Abi wouldn’t think of anything other; even with Rob’s ridiculous threat of exposure and a reduced settlement hanging over her head, she was not prepared to compromise. The truth was she was a wealthy woman either way. If she had accepted the first settlement he’d offered she’d have been extremely rich. She’d only ever argued about it to annoy him, to stay in his life. That wasn’t a necessary strategy anymore. She had something much more concrete now. Much more important. Rob’s new proposal, while severely reduced, was still generous enough; she’d be more than comfortable. It certainly wasn’t the car crash she’d allowed Liam to believe. She’d ranted to him about what a bastard Rob was, how paltry his offer was, how much she would have to sacrifice to supress the sex video, although she always took care to reassure him that he was so worth it. Liam thought he owed her now, which was no bad thing. It was a good idea to keep him in her debt. People ought to be more honest about what relationships were. A set of scales.
