You Be Mother

by Meg Mason

  ‘Have a suck on that,’ she said, sneakers squeaking against the lino tiles. ‘That’s a Pedialyte. It’s meant to be for children, but you’ll be feeling well dehydrated in your state.’

  Abi let the ice-lolly be put in her hand as she lay back. Her entire consciousness was centred on the throbbing in her skull.

  The nurse had begun rearranging the sheet, tucking it tightly under her legs. ‘There we go, that’s better.’ She perched on the end of the bed and gave Abi’s foot a gentle squeeze. ‘You need your rest. It’s no good for the baby, all this stress.’

  ‘I hope he’s too young to understand it.’

  ‘Of course he won’t! Or she. We don’t know yet, d’we?’

  Abi levered herself onto one elbow, then the other. ‘Pardon? What?’

  ‘I said, or she. You’re going to find out then, are you?’

  Abi’s mouth fell open. She stared wide-eyed at the nurse, who was looking back at her, confused. ‘I had to do your bloods. Did you not –’

  Before Abi could answer, the doctor put his head around the door. ‘Your son’s being brought up now. His father arrived a short time ago, so he’s been down there with him. They’ll be here in a moment or two.’

  Abi’s mind blazed. She could not settle on a single thought.

  ‘Well, congratulations,’ the nurse said, squeaking out of the room.

  ‘She’s in here,’ Abi heard her say from outside. ‘That’s right. She’s still a bit addled so keep things light is my suggestion.’

  ‘Yep, right. Thanks. Come on mate, let’s go see Mum.’ Stu had a hiking pack on his back and his son on his hip. Jude was holding a plastic spoon in each hand. A circle of dried yoghurt had dried around his mouth and down the front of his Aran jumper.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ Stu said. His freckled face drew into a pained smile. ‘How are you going? You look a bit rough.’

  The instant Abi had heard his loud voice in the hallway, her heart had begun tossing itself around inside her chest. Blood roared in her ears.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ The great waves of relief at seeing him, her need to be gathered up into his arms, was only tiredness or painkillers or shock, she told herself as Stu took the chair beside the bed and sat Jude on the floor to play with his spoons.

  ‘Dad and I started talking quite a bit once I went back to Gordon, after seeing you that day in the flat, and it helped me understand some stuff. And I read your letter, and after that, I knew I was coming. It just took me a while to man up, I guess. Mum wasn’t really into it, but Dad sort of stuck it to her a bit on Christmas Day. I wish you’d been there for that. It wasn’t funny, but it actually was pretty funny.’

  ‘How did you know where I was?’

  ‘Your neighbour told me.’ Stu leaned over and covered Jude’s ears. ‘Fuck, babe. That house. Your neighbour said that was after you’d hauled most of the crap out. I wanted to put a bulldozer through it.’

  Abi felt a surge of shame. ‘Did she give you a key?’

  ‘Nah, I just had a look in the window and then came straight here. Hey,’ he said, ‘I’m really sorry about your mum. The doctor told me when I got here.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Abi said flatly. ‘I always knew it was coming. It was the slowest suicide in history, really.’

  Stu appeared acutely uncomfortable as Abi went on.

  ‘I just didn’t think it would be now, or not today anyway. She’s been gone for so long, I think I forgot it hadn’t actually happened. That doesn’t make sense, does it? But it’s true. It’s true to me.’ She could not bring herself to tell him the truth about Morris.

  ‘I get it,’ Stu said. ‘I’m so sorry you had to deal with all that, your whole life. Makes me realise why you wouldn’t want everyone knowing everything.’ Stu took her hand. ‘Hey, listen. I missed you.’

  Abi tried to pull it away, but Stu held on with a soft grip. ‘I missed you, and Jude. The point is, I’ve done a lot of thinking and even with everything that’s happened I want to give this another go. And to be honest, I don’t really want Jude growing up in that house, now that I’ve seen it.’

  Perhaps it was the way Jude was playing so happily, oblivious to the chaos all around him. Perhaps it was the outfit he wore that like most of his clothes, Abi had struggled to provide for him herself. Perhaps it was all the work she had done to Rae’s house, with the help of a neighbour she’d only just met, not Stu. Or the fact that he’d written it off in a single moment, without the faintest idea of what it was like before. But as incandescent rage coursed through her veins, Abi raised herself to sitting, twisted away at the waist as though winding herself up and, wheeling back around, slapped Stu hard across the face.

  ‘You don’t get to be with me!’ she cried, delivering hit after hit. With every movement, her skull howled with pain but she could not stop. Even when Stu tried to shield his face, she didn’t cease, instead striking the back of his hands. ‘You don’t get to! You left me! Every time it got too hard for you, you ran home to your mother. You don’t get another chance with me. I’m finished with you.’ When the palm of her hand began to sear she dropped to one side and, mustering all the strength in her small body, brought her leg around and delivered a hard kick. With Jude still between his ankles, Stu was trapped and Abi landed a series of hard blows to his side.

  ‘I don’t need you! I don’t need you!’

  Finally, she drew her leg inwards, knee bent like a loaded spring, and dispensed a final strike to his stomach that sent him reeling backwards in his chair.

  ‘Abi, stop, stop.’ The final blow had winded him and he breathed hard from the top of his lungs. ‘You’ll hurt yourself.’

  Her fit of fury had blinded her, but now Abi looked down and saw Jude bouncing up and down on his rump, giggling as though it was a great game and, for the first time she had seen, clapped his hands, three times in succession.

  As much as she longed to reach down for him, when she tried to lift her arm, bone-crushing fatigue forced her to roll onto her side, draw herself into a ball and close her eyes. The back of her head felt like it had split open but her hand would not move to check.

  Stu picked up the baby instead, straightened his little jumper and smoothed his hair. ‘Are you okay, Abi?’

  She screwed her eyes more tightly closed and did not answer.

  ‘You just lie there,’ Stu said, covering her with the sheet. ‘Have a little sleep. Jude and I will just be here.’

  Abi had already drifted into something deeper than sleep and there, standing around her, were Morris and Louise and Rae, Phil and Brigitta and Roger. She felt Phil lay her warm hand on her forehead as though feeling for a temperature. Morris spoke. ‘I am so proud of you, Abi. You are such a good, clever girl.’ Louise was sucking a sweet and danced a funny jig that only Abi could see.

  She willed them all to stay as they were, so she never had to return to the empty, bleach-smelling world of the treatment room, but as her mind led her from one face to the next, she realised that Jude was not there. She had to go back for him. She lifted her heavy eyelids and let the dream die away.

  Stu leapt up and held Jude close to her. With both small hands, the baby reached for her face and pressed his round, open mouth to her cheek. The wettest possible kiss.

  ‘I got you a juice,’ Stu said. ‘You should probably try and have some even though it’s tropical, which I know you hate, but I panicked.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Abi said. She felt tears roll out of the corners of her eyes and run into her ears.

  ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere. I know I said it before, Abi, but I really mean it.’

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Stu was quiet for a moment. ‘Any chance I’m the –’

  ‘No.’

  Abi lay still, waiting for him to get up.

  ‘Right. Well, I guess that changes things a bit.’ But he did not move.

  * * *

  It was decided that Abi would stay in overnight, and the next morning
, Stu returned with Jude and waited while Abi signed her mother’s paperwork, then her own. The doctor took a final look at her sutured head, then wished her well. She seemed like a very brave person, he said, as she accepted the envelope containing her discharge notes and Rae’s death certificate. ‘You seem to have done well, in the worst of circumstances.’ She thanked him and Stu held out his arm so she could walk to the lifts, supported.

  Earlier, on his way up, Stu had looked at his blurred reflection in the lift’s stainless interior. He was scared shitless. Jude, in his arms, was looking less like a baby and more like a little boy. Fuck. The doors slid open. Stu swung Jude onto his other side and stepped out. ‘Right. Here we go, mate.’ No more cock-ups.

  On their way through the lobby, Abi stopped and pointed towards a small plastic Christmas tree. Its lights flicked on and off. ‘This is where I had him. Just there. By that stained bit on the carpet.’

  ‘I’m only a year late then,’ Stu said. ‘First Year with Baby, eh? I guess that’s not going back to the library any time soon. I’ve called us a mini-cab.’

  97.

  Captain of the Hockey Thirds

  ‘Hey, hi.’

  Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Brigitta wheeled around. ‘Will Binney, hello. Fancy running into you here. I’ve literally just got off a plane.’

  He offered her a hand and she shook it and then, as though it were an afterthought, leaned in and kissed her on each cheek. ‘Happy New Year and all that.’

  ‘Weren’t we going to meet tomorrow to talk about dates and things?’ Brigitta asked, stepping back and trying to take in the grown-up version of a formerly unremarkable, often annoying teenage boy. ‘Gosh, your skin’s really cleared up, hasn’t it?’

  ‘And you’ve had your braces off,’ Will said, as Brigitta continued to appraise him.

  ‘Really, it’s so funny to think it’s the actual Will Binney. Ten-speed owner, shot glass collector, captain of the Hockey Thirds.’

  ‘Vice-captain. I can’t believe it’s you either, Brigitta Woolnough, eye-roller, bra stuffer, crème de menthe connoisseur.’

  Brigitta couldn’t think what to say just then and was relieved when Will changed the subject without appearing to notice her heightened colour.

  ‘I know we’re meeting tomorrow, but I was on my way back from Bristol and that flight’s such a bastard I thought I may as well meet you. Your brother gave up your flight number after very little probing.’

  ‘Freddie loves being probed.’

  ‘Do you know, I got that distinct sense while I was doing it.’

  A grin spread across Brigitta’s face. In spite of herself, she couldn’t shift it. It was just so unexpectedly lovely to see someone she had known, really, all her life and to be talking in a funny, almost intimate way as the dreary masses inside Terminal Four surged all around them.

  Also, she had not been looking forward to getting the Tube to Ladbroke Grove.

  ‘Here, give me that,’ he said, taking the handle of her case. ‘Car’s this way.’

  After he’d loaded it into the boot of a battered Fiat, Will got into the driver’s seat and hesitated before starting the car. He glanced across at her, momentarily sheepish. ‘Listen, if we’re going to be working together, I should probably tell you that I actually used to have quite a big crush on you.’

  Brigitta put a hand on his leg. ‘Will. Everyone on the North Shore knew that.’ She meant the gesture to be condescending, but his thigh felt firmer and warmer through his trousers than she’d expected and the sensation threw her off.

  ‘Right. Well obviously I don’t anymore.’

  ‘Obviously,’ Brigitta said, although it was not until they joined the A4 that she thought to take her hand away.

  98.

  I’m three fingers

  It was a hot, hazy weekday afternoon and the footpath where Abi stood waiting for Jude to get out of the car was slick with decomposing frangipani flowers. Other mothers passed by as she waited, pushing strollers and coaxing older children along in the heat.

  With an explosion of energy, Jude pushed his door open and sprang out, clutching his soccer ball. He let it roll down the front of his skinny brown leg, which was smeared with green paint and covered all over with a dozen penny-sized bruises, the cause of which he could never say. It rolled well ahead and he chased after it at speed.

  ‘Carry it until we’re inside, please!’ Abi called. ‘Jude! Don’t let it go on the road.’

  Sadie pulled down on Abi’s hand. ‘He is making a bad choice, isn’t he Mummy,’ she said in her hoarse little voice that, according to Stu, made her sound as though she enjoyed the occasional cheeky fag with Mum.

  She looked up at Abi, unblinking.

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’ Abi gazed back at her daughter. She had dark eyes, milk-white skin and waves of copper hair that Elaine continued to insist beyond reason were ‘all Kellett’.

  Stu decided not to tell his parents until it was too late, and they already loved her too much to take issue with her exact parentage. Abi did not want to lie, but it wasn’t lying, Stu said, it was just slow-release truth.

  And it had worked. Somehow, it had all worked.

  ‘He might have to have a cons-ne-kwens,’ Sadie said joyfully.

  ‘Yes, he might. Shall we catch him up?’

  Hand in hand, they followed after him, keeping in the shadow of the high sandstone wall, above which loomed the Victorian mansions of Annandale, carved up for flats and private offices. At intervals, the wall turned in for a wrought iron gate, and Jude disappeared into each recess, lying in wait until Abi and Sadie approached.

  ‘Rar!’

  ‘Mind out for people, Jude.’

  ‘I’m scaring you, Mum! You have to go aghh!’

  ‘Okay, aghh. But please watch where you’re going.’

  He tore ahead again and Abi watched as he vanished into the next alcove. A second later, he stepped out backwards, chin turned up, staring.

  He took another reverse step onto the footpath and an elderly lady came out after him, glancing both ways for a parent. She was holding a large medical envelope in one hand, the other shielded her face from the sun.

  Abi rushed towards her, ready to apologise for Jude. As she neared, the woman turned towards her.

  ‘Abigail.’ The rich, lilting voice sent a thrill through Abi’s body. She gripped Sadie’s hot little hand. ‘Abi, rather.’

  ‘Hello Phil.’

  ‘It’s been quite an age, hasn’t it?’

  ‘It has.’ Tears already filled Abi’s eyes and she made no attempt to blink them away.

  Phil wore a washed silk blouse in the palest pink and the same amber beads, but all the thickness had gone from her middle. Her hair, still smartly bobbed, was entirely white.

  Voice thick with sorrow, Phil looked down and said, ‘And this must be Sadie.’

  Sadie stepped out from behind Abi’s skirt and tried to curl her little thumb into her palm, until four short fingers stood in a row. ‘I’m three fingers.’

  Phil looked at her wistfully and then said in a low voice to Abi, ‘Freddie told us. After she was born.’ Her eyes crinkled at the edges and their misty blue centres began to shine. ‘It was decided we would stay away and let you get on.’ Phil looked back to Sadie, who was still struggling to make the unneeded finger sit down. ‘I always wondered if you intended the name, perhaps, to be a little message.’

  ‘I always loved Aunt Sadie.’

  ‘So it was then.’ Phil exhaled. ‘I didn’t like to assume.’

  Jude had appeared at Phil’s side and was studying her intently. Surely, Abi thought, he doesn’t remember her. But there was something so concentrated about the way he was looking at her, Abi couldn’t help wonder if somewhere, very deep down, he knew her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said.

  Phil’s eyes widened in anticipation. ‘Mm?’

  ‘I just love rocks so much.’

  ‘Well of course. There’s so much to love about them.’
Abi saw her working against a smile. ‘And are you four by any chance, Jude?’

  ‘I will be five in nineteen sleeps,’ he said, ‘and I’m getting Lego Rescue Helicopter and all the Lego and Batman. Batman!’ The force of the excitement made him stand on one leg.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Phil,’ Abi said. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘No, truly,’ Phil stopped her with a hand. ‘There’s simply too much to be said.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you have time for a cup of tea, do you? We live just up there. If you want to. You don’t have to though.’

  Jude picked up Phil’s hand. ‘I know where our house is. It’s over there, by that bird.’

  Phil turned and let herself be led.

  Jude struggled to open the gate by himself but did not want help.

  ‘I hoped I would run into you again one day,’ Abi said as they waited behind him. ‘But I didn’t think it would be over this way.’

  ‘Yes, well, rightly,’ Phil said. ‘I’ve always found the Inner West a touch alternative. But I’ve a specialist here, so I’m forced over the bridge with rather frightful regularity.’

  When the gate finally opened, Jude put his hand back in Phil’s and walked with her up the path.

  ‘That’s my bike.’

  ‘It looks like a very fast one.’

  ‘It is.’ Jude nodded solemnly. ‘Red are always the fastest ones.’

  Abi slipped past them and unlocked the door. ‘We left in a bit of a rush this morning, so ignore the mess. Come in, Phil.’

  99.

  Crowded with incident

  The cool, narrow hallway led to a bright kitchen added to the back of the terrace. Glass doors looked out onto a small square of grass, and as soon as Abi slid them open, Jude and Sadie ran outside.

  Abi wiped the table with her forearm and spirited two plastic cereal bowls into the sink.

  ‘Sit anywhere. Wherever’s not sticky.’

  ‘Well, isn’t this very nice?’ Phil said. ‘You’d never know from the street what’s inside.’