by Dyan Sheldon
Pink or Blue, I Love You
“I don’t see why I have to be the one to buy it,” grumbled Shanee. She had her stubborn face on. It made her look about six.
“Because nobody would think for a second that you might be preggers, that’s why,” I said again. “They’ll think it’s for your mother.”
Shanee grunted. “It might’ve been helpful if you’d thought for a second that you might get pregnant.”
“Well, I didn’t,” I snapped. “I made a mistake.”
Shanee was still looking stubborn.
“And what if Mr Arway in the chemist’s says something to my mother?” she demanded. “What then?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Shanee was really beginning to get on my nerves. “What’s he going to say?” I asked. “‘Hello, Mrs Tyler. Was the pregnancy test positive?’” I gave her a shove. “Just go, will you? It’ll be fine.”
I pushed, but Shanee didn’t budge.
“I’m embarrassed,” she announced. “What if Mr Arway doesn’t think it’s for my mother? What if he thinks it’s for me?” Everybody thought Shanee was so sweet, but she could have a really mean glare when she wanted to. “You can bet your trainers he’d say something to her then.”
This was a little harder to argue with, since it was actually one of the reasons I wasn’t willing to buy the pregnancy test myself. I didn’t want the old cow to find out before I was ready to tell her.
“No, he wouldn’t,” I said reasonably. “Chemists are like doctors and priests. They aren’t allowed to just blab out your personal secrets to anybody who comes down the street.”
“Lucy Tyler isn’t just anybody,” said Shanee stubbornly. “She’s my mother.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, thinking quickly. “If it makes you feel any better, we’ll catch the bus down to Oxford Street and you can buy it there.”
The glare was replaced by a look of suspicion.
“You could buy it there, too,” said my best friend since forever.
“No, I couldn’t. Don’t you get it? If I buy it, they’ll be able to tell I’m the one who thinks she’s pregnant, because I am. But they won’t with you. You’re innocent. It doesn’t matter if anyone thinks you could be pregnant because you can’t be.”
“Innocent isn’t the same as stupid.”
I could feel my lower lip start to wobble.
“Please…” I begged. “Who else can I turn to? You’re the only real friend I’ve got.” If I asked Gerri or Amie to do it, the whole planet would know the results before I did. “I can’t face the chemist. Not in the state I’m in.”
Which was a state of confusion. Now that I was over the shock, part of me (the part that would have to tell Hilary Spiggs) was definitely scared, but another part of me was feeling really excited. Like I was a child and it was Christmas Eve.
Shanee sighed. “I can’t believe you didn’t use a condom,” she muttered. “I really can’t. The government spends millions of pounds telling people to use condoms so they won’t have babies they don’t want, and you just jump right into bed without a second thought.”
“You can’t think when you’re gripped by passion. It just takes over. You’ll see for yourself, some day.”
“No, I won’t,” said Shanee. “I’ll’ve learnt my lesson from you.”
I didn’t open the bag once on the way home. Not even for a peek. I sat with it on my lap, while Shanee banged on about how the chemist had looked at her and how the other customers had looked at her and how the guard had smiled at her as she left.
I didn’t open the bag until me and Shanee were safely locked in my bathroom.
“Oh, no,” I cried. “It’s the wrong kind. It’s pink!”
“No, it isn’t,” said Shanee. “The applicator’s white. The indicator turns pink if you’re knocked up.”
“But the one Dara used was blue.” I remembered it distinctly. I’d felt really chuffed at the time that Dara showed it to me and did the test while I was there, as if I wasn’t her little sister but her friend.
Shanee snatched the box out of my hand and tore it open.
“For God’s sake, Lana. What difference does it make if it turns pink or blue? It means the same thing.”
I took the applicator from her. “I know. I just want to make sure we got a good one, that’s all.”
“It was the most expensive one they had,” said Shanee.
She unfolded the instructions and read them out to me. She turned her back while I peed. She stood beside me at the sink, staring at the applicator, waiting for something to happen or not happen.
Something happened. It turned pink.
“Maybe it’s wrong,” said Shanee at last.
I held up the carton. “It says it’s as accurate as a doctor’s test.”
Shanee squashed her mouth together. “Well, of course it says that. It’s not going to say, ‘Not very accurate at all’, is it?” She grabbed the applicator and held it up to the light. It was still pink.
“Maybe it’s a dud,” said Shanee.
I hadn’t thought of that. The Spiggs was always buying things that didn’t work. Hoovers, light bulbs, small appliances. It could happen with pregnancy tests, too.
“Do you think so? You think we should’ve got two?” I didn’t want to make a mistake. This was really important.
Shanee sighed. “We’ll get another one from a different shop.” I could see the expression on her face in the mirror. She looked worried. And scared. “So we’re sure.”
Beside her, my face was already beginning to glow. I was that excited. Imagine, me pregnant! I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be a mother. Talk about when I grow up! The only way I’d’ve felt more grown up was if I’d been the queen or somebody like that.
“Good idea,” I agreed. “We’d better get two more.” I dropped the applicator and the box into the Boots’ bag. “If the next one is negative we’ll have to do a third as a control.”
Shanee’s eyebrows rose.
“Good God!” said Shanee. “You have been paying some attention in science.”
“I’ll tell you one thing…” Shanee tossed the magazine she’d been pretending to flip through back on the coffee table. “I’m glad I don’t have to tell your mother.”
I heard her, but I didn’t feel like speaking. I just couldn’t get over it. When we did cooking, my rice pudding came out like soup. When we made clocks in design and technology, mine was too small to fit the timepiece. All my plants for the science project died. Twice. And yet I got pregnant, first time. It’s like getting a hole in one the first time you pick up a golf club. But we’d done it. Me and Les. We were naturals. We were always meant to be.
Shanee twisted round so she was facing me.
“What are you going to do? I’m pretty sure you can get an abortion without your mum ever knowing.”
“An abortion?” I had to laugh. “Are you joking? I’m not having an abortion.”
Shanee blinked. “You’re not?”
“Of course I’m not.” I laughed again. “How could you think I would do something like that? This is my baby, Shanee! Mine and Les’s. I’m not going to throw it out like an empty milk carton.”
She just looked at me for a couple of minutes, as though I was Shakespeare or someone and she was trying to work out what I was really saying.
“You mean you’re going to put it up for adoption?”
Putting your baby up for adoption was what the government thought teenage mothers should do. It was also the government who told us it was all right to eat beef and then all these people started acting like mad cows. I wasn’t going to listen to the government.
I threw one of the couch cushions at her. “Now you’re winding me up.”
She held on to the cushion.
“You can’t mean you’re going to keep it,” said Shanee. She was speaking really slowly.
“Of course I’m going to keep it.”
I hadn’t planned to get pregnant because I hadn’t thought that I
could. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t the right thing to do. Really, it was the solution to all my problems. Happiness was mine.
“This is what I’ve always wanted,” I reminded her. I laughed. “Plus, having a baby beats taking my GCSEs.”
“You can’t take care of a baby, Lana!” Shanee was sitting so straight she looked like she might snap. “You’re just a kid!”
I thought about the scrapbooks in the box under my bed. There was one that was filled with nothing but pictures of babies and little children. My ideal family was two boys and two girls; one of the boys and one of the girls was dark and the other two were fair. Which one would this be?
“I am not a kid.” I got to my feet. “I’m a woman, Shanee. You may still be a kid, but I’m grown up.” I stood up tall and proud. “I’m going to be a mother.”
“You’re going to be put in care, that’s what you’re going to be.”
“Lots of girls our age have babies,” I informed her coldly. “It’s in all the papers. Plus, it’s a definite advantage to be young with your children. Hilary was forty when she had me, and look how that turned out.”
Shanee leaned forward. “Lana, for God’s sake. This isn’t like piercing your nose. This is really serious. Being a mother isn’t a joke.”
I sneered. “How would you know?”
“It just so happens that I would know.” She stood up, too. “I’ve got two little brothers and a little sister, haven’t I? I know exactly what it’s like.”
“They’re not yours,” I said. “It’s different.”
Nothing was stronger than the mother-child bond. Unless, of course, your mother happened to be like mine. But I wasn’t like Hilary. I would be a great mother. I could already feel the connection between my baby and me starting to grow.
I patted my tummy. “I already love my baby, Shanee. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Her mouth was opened as though she was putting on lipgloss. “I want you to know that I think you’re mad. Totally bonkers.”
“You’re the one who’s bonkers. This is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Shanee was shaking her head and waving her hands about. “I have to go home. I’m too traumatized to have this discussion now.”
She was traumatized? How did she think I felt?
“What about me?” I snapped. “I’m the one who has to tell Les. You know what men are like. They think babies are a trap.”
Shanee picked up her things and gave me a “poor little cow” sort of look.
“Men aren’t the only ones,” said Shanee. “So does my mother.” She put her bag over her shoulder. “And so do I.”
* * *
I liked the idea of no one else knowing about the baby for a while. I felt like I had this brilliant secret – like I knew where the Ark of the Covenant really was or something like that – and it made me feel really happy and in charge.
So I bunked off school for the next couple of days. I didn’t feel like going even more than usual. I mean, what was the point? I wasn’t going to finish, was I? I didn’t even have to pretend any more. We’d see who was the poor cow. A year from now, when Shanee was studying herself into a coma, I was going to be pushing my baby up the high street in a blue and yellow pushchair with a basket at the back for the shopping and wondering what to make Les for supper.
Plus, now that I knew I was pregnant for certain, I reckoned I should take care of myself. Taking care of yourself during pregnancy is very important. Running around a hockey pitch and being yelled at by teachers was not taking care of myself. Besides, now that I knew I had a baby inside me, I felt really pregnant. I was tired and didn’t want to do very much. I had to pee a lot. I had sudden cravings for everything from chocolate to that special sauce they put on the burgers in Burger King. Sad songs made me feel like crying. I came over all weak whenever I saw an infant.
So, every morning I’d get up, get dressed, have my breakfast, and put on my coat. I’d pick up my school bag, make sure I had my keys, and give my mother a big wave goodbye. Then I’d go to McDonald’s or Burger King, till I was sure Hilary had left for work. And then I went back home.
I spent my days watching telly and thinking about babies. There was a lot to think about. Should I breast-feed? It was easier than bottles, since you didn’t have to wash anything, but it also meant that I couldn’t go anywhere without the baby for more than a couple of hours. What if Les wanted to take me away for a weekend or something? Then there was the problem of where it should sleep. Should it sleep with me and Les at the beginning, or should it have a room of its own? What colour would I paint its room? Pink and blue were out, they were tacky. Yellow was OK, but it had to be a restful shade. I wondered if Les knew how to put up shelves. We’d need shelves for its toys and stuff.
And I’d need something to carry it around in. I’d seen women carrying babies in backpacks but that was a bit primitive, if you asked me. What I really wanted was one of those big old-fashioned prams with lots of chrome, but I could see that that wouldn’t be practical. I mean, it’d be hard to get it on a bus. But I could get an ordinary pushchair for everyday and save the pram for Sunday walks in the park. And then there were clothes. Clothes were important. Should I shop at Mothercare or Baby Gap?
Shanee came round on her way home from school every afternoon with my homework. As if I was really going to do it. But no matter what I said, she refused to get real about my situation.
“You can’t stay indoors for ever,” she kept saying. “You have to tell them some time.”
“I will,” I said. “I’m going to. I just don’t see what the big rush is.”
She goggled her eyes. “You don’t? Hasn’t it occurred to you that the longer you wait, the less options you have?”
“But I don’t need any options. I told you. I want this baby. It’s all settled.” I patted my tummy. “I’m happy, Shanee. This really is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“If you’re so happy, then tell its grandmother and father,” begged Shanee. “You’re driving me mad.”
“I will,” I promised. “I’ll tell the old bat first.”
I had no doubt about how Hilary would react. Charley said she was very volatile, which meant she started screaming before you’d finished talking, and thought about it later. When I told her she was going to be a grandmother she’d go into meltdown. But that was all she’d do. She’d march around in one of her moods, slamming doors and banging things on tables for a while. She’d start screaming at every chance she got. She’d talk to my nan and my sisters on the phone for hours, and then blame me because the bill was so high. But in the end she’d shut up. I mean, what could she do? She was a cow, but she wasn’t going to throw me out on the street. Charley wouldn’t let her.
But I wasn’t totally sure about Les. That’s why I reckoned I’d save him for last. I mean, I knew he was the hard-working, responsible type. He had a job and a flat and everything, and he’d never missed one of his car loan repayments. Not one. Plus, he was well chuffed not to be a virgin any more. A man like that might be thrilled to hear that he’d scored a goal. That sort of thing is important to guys. But it was a little unexpected. A year ago he was still sleeping in the room he’d had since he was born and now he was going to be a dad. He might freak out a bit when he found out. Because of the suddenness and all. Especially since Les’s dream was to own a Porsche someday. A cherry red convertible. A cherry red convertible Porsche isn’t exactly a family car.
“When?” persisted Shanee.
“As soon as I have a chance.”
My Chances Come
The phone rang that night, while Dragon Lady and I were eating in front of the telly.
I didn’t move. I knew it wasn’t for me. Neither Les nor Shanee would ring that early. Les because he was at work, and Shanee because the Tyler circus would be in full swing at that hour.
Huffing and puffing, she heaved herself from her chair and went to answer it. When she came back she marc
hed straight up to the screen and snapped it off.
“Hey!” I shouted. “I was watching that!”
“And I should’ve been watching you,” said my mother. She folded her arms in front of her so she looked like a wall in jeans and a pink sweatshirt. A pissed-off wall. “Just where the hell have you been for the last three days when you should’ve been at school?”
I stared back. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t give me that,” said my mother. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You haven’t been to school for three days.”
I swear to God, she started tapping her foot. And she thought I watched too many films!
“’Course I have.”
Sometimes bluffing worked. I was really good at looking blank and sincere. It confused her. Even though she hated everything about me, part of her didn’t want to think her daughter was a liar.
But it didn’t work this time.
“Oh no, you haven’t.” She jerked her head towards the kitchen. “That was Mrs Mela. She says you haven’t been in since Tuesday.”
“I told you. I don’t like Shakespeare.”
It was incredible how thin she could make her lips when she wanted to.
“To school. Not just to English.”
“You mean this week?”
Taptaptaptaptap. Fred Astaire would’ve loved her.
“Yes, I mean this week. Why weren’t you at school?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t feel like going.”
“You didn’t feel like going…” Hilary the Parrot.
“That’s right.” I got up and moved towards her, to put the telly back on. “I was feeling too stressed.”
She cackled. “Too stressed? You?” She flattened herself against the screen. “You think stress is breaking a nail or getting some mud on your jeans.”
“What do you know?”
I made a move towards the TV, but she pushed me back and I whacked into the coffee table. I screamed in pain.
She didn’t care that she’d wounded me. “I know you’ve been bunking off school, that’s what I know. And I’d like to know why.”
