Avaline Saddlebags

by Netta Newbound

  Just when I thought I was completely finished, he insisted I put pale highlighter along the length of my nose, finishing with a dab on the tip, resembling an exclamation mark, and more highlighter under and over the top of my eyes. By the time we got onto the eyeshadow, I was morphing into a woman. The way I held my head up and the pout of my lips added a whole new dimension to my personality. Eyeliner and mascara was topped off with false eyelashes, which were a bastard to master, and then the lipstick was the finishing touch. Stunning.

  “Just wait until I show you what’s next.” Roy excitedly bounced from the room returning moments later with a huge baby-pink wig. “Now, you must promise to look after this as it cost a blummin’ fortune.” He proceeded to place the wig on my head.

  I didn’t recognise myself. Turning and pouting in the mirror I examined myself from every angle. It was remarkable. My own mother wouldn’t recognise me.

  “I have several older costumes you can borrow, I need my newer ones for my own act, but there’s nothing wrong with them.”

  “Are you sure? I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all your help. If I can return the favour, you name it and I’ll do it.”

  “Just kill it. Go out there and knock ‘em dead. Oh, and tell me where you’ll be. I’d love to be there for your debut.”

  “Not a chance, sorry. Top secret, I’m afraid.” The last thing I wanted was for him to show up at my audition and subsequent debut performance—I’d die.

  “Shame. I’d pay good money to see you. But I think you’re ready. What size shoe are you?”

  “Men’s size ten.”

  “Ooh! You may be in luck—hang on.” Once again, he left the room and returned with a pair of ridiculously high heels. “You may need to practice walking in these. Come on, have a go.”

  “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll practice at home.”

  “Come on, Dylan,” Bella urged. “Don’t be shy.”

  “I’m not shy.”

  “Do it, then.”

  Scowling, I slipped off my comfortable shoes and socks before sliding my feet into the strappy silver sandals.

  “How do you have such smooth skin on your feet?” Bella exclaimed. “Mine are like sandpaper.”

  I shrugged. “Dunno. Never thought about it.” Once I had the shoes fastened, I tottered to my feet. “This doesn’t feel good.” Catching sight of myself looming majestically in front of the mirror, all pink hair and flawless complexion, I forgot about my balance and moments later, wobbled off the heels and crashed to the floor in an unsightly heap.

  Bella’s hysterical laughter was mixed with a series of groans and then the sound of something being spilled onto the floor. “Oh, shit, my waters have broken!”

  Eleven

  “I need to get to hospital, Dylan. You’ll have to take me.”

  “Are you kidding me, Bella? I can’t be seen in public looking like this.” I pulled the heels off and reached for my shoes and socks, not wanting to stand in the puddle in bare feet.

  “Then you’d better learn how to deliver a baby, and fast, ‘cos it’s coming.”

  Roy dithered like an old woman. “Ooh, dearie me, look at the mess. Baby juice all up me tights.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bella added, panting.

  “Right, ambulance.” I decided. “Roy, do the honours will you.”

  Bella let out a huge wail.

  Roy flapped about. “Oh, God, she isn’t gonna give birth in here, is she?”

  “If you don’t dial the bloody ambulance, then yes, she might.”

  “Right-o, flower. I’m on it.” He dashed from the room.

  “He’d be no good in a crisis,” I said.

  “You’re right. I just hope he isn’t faffing about on the phone because it’s not gonna be long.”

  “You’ve only just gone into labour, Bella. Surely, there’s loads of time.”

  “This baby wants out,” she wailed again. “Help me get my knickers off, will you?”

  “Oh, God. Oh, God.” Now I was panicking when I should have been helping her.

  “Calm down,” she said. “I’ve done this before, remember.” She edged her knickers down to her ankles.

  “I’m sorry.” I knelt down and picked her underwear up, wrapped them in a wad of tissue I found by the sink, and shoved them into my pocket.

  Roy reappeared. “The ambulance is on the way now. Five minutes tops. Let me see.” He crouched down and peered up Bella’s skirt, his face scrunched into a grimace. “Looks like a car crash down here, darling.”

  I stifled my laugh.

  “Cheeky bastard,” Bella replied. “You’ve probably never seen a fanny before.”

  Roy ignored her comment and stood upright. “Have you ever seen that old eighties movie, Predator?”

  Bella glowered at him.

  I had no idea where he was going with this but answered anyway. “Yeah, why?”

  “Don’t you see the resemblance?” He was deadpan in his delivery.

  I bit my lip because I could see the similarities, but I daren’t laugh as Bella would have taken my head off. “Roy, shut it before she throttles you with those stockings,” I warned. “Help me get her outside.”

  “No!” Bella screeched. “What if they don’t get here on time? I don’t want to have the baby on the pavement, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Alright, but let’s get closer to the front door for when they do arrive.”

  Roy grabbed Bella’s orange coat and handbag while I slid my arm around her back and led her towards the exit.

  When we reached the foyer, I eased Bella down onto a leather armchair.

  Roy dropped her belongings beside her. “Right-o, darlings, I must love you and leave you. Good luck popping the sprog out, Bells.”

  “Hey!” I said. “You can’t leave us. What if the baby comes?”

  Just then, I heard the sound of an approaching ambulance and I almost wept with relief.

  “There you go,” Roy said, backing up the way we’d just come. “Give me a call. I can meet you again tomorrow to go through the other stuff if you like?” And then he was gone.

  “Come on, Bella, let’s get you outside now, they’re here.” I pulled her up onto her feet.

  She suddenly held herself rigid and groaned gripping my hand hard.

  “Yikes, Bella,” I said, prizing her fingers apart. “Aren’t you supposed to pant, or something?” I made panting sounds like I’d seen on the telly.

  She thumped me on the shoulder.

  Once the pain eased, we proceeded through the door just as the ambulance pulled up outside.

  The two paramedics wasted no time and had Bella in the back of the ambulance in a flash.

  “Can I come with you or should I take my car?” I asked the male driver.

  “Suit yourself, pal,” he said, a stupid grin on his face.

  I suddenly remembered that not only was I wearing a face full of makeup, caked an inch thick, but a candy-floss pink wig as well.

  “Don’t leave me, Dylan,” Bella cried.

  Humiliated, I climbed in beside her just as another contraction kicked in. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere.”

  The doors were closed, and we sped off in the direction of the hospital.

  “What’s the show you’re doing?” the female paramedic asked once she’d sat down beside us.

  “Beg your pardon?” I asked, confused.

  “I’m presuming you’re in a show.”

  “The makeup,” Bella said, calm again.

  “Oh, no. I mean… well, I don’t usually dress like this, but…”

  “None of my beeswax, love,” she said with a wink, causing another bout of giggles from Bella.

  “Glad you’re still able to laugh at my expense, missus.” I pulled the wig off and shoved it into Bella’s bag.

  Bella’s laughter suddenly turned to groans as another wave of pain creased her.

  “That’ll teach you for laughing at me.” I grinned, then flinched as Bella tried to punch my ar
m again.

  By the time we got to the hospital there was barely a break between contractions. The paramedics wheeled Bella in on a gurney and handed her over to the duty midwife, Ursula, a tall, skinny Polish woman.

  She eyed me with amusement. I could tell it wasn’t every day a younger, hotter version of Eddie Izzard made such an entrance.

  Bella almost broke every bone in my hand as I walked beside her on the way to the maternity unit.

  Stifled laughter and stupid grins were all that greeted us from the gawking onlookers we passed along the way.

  I blew a kiss to a particularly butch-looking biker dude and he flushed scarlet and rapidly turned away.

  Once in the delivery unit, several midwives set about preparing Bella for the birth. I was moved from pillar to post, getting under their feet.

  “I’m going to try to get this muck off my face, Bells—I’ll be back in two ticks.”

  In the throes of another contraction, Bella didn’t seem to care, so I ducked out of the room in search of a bathroom.

  It wasn’t until I saw my reflection I remembered the fishnet cap on my head. I whipped it off and stuffed it in my jacket pocket alongside Bella’s knickers.

  I peeled off the eyelashes and they also went in my pocket. I spied a soap dispenser on the wall and pumped three squirts into my palm, before adding a bit of water. I covered my entire face with the lather, but it was useless. This muck was industrial strength, designed to defeat the sweltering heat of stage lights and a few squirts of liquid soap weren’t going to budge it. I gave up and rubbed as much off as I could with a couple of paper towels.

  “Where’ve you been?” Bella cried when I re-entered the room. Her face had contorted into something that resembled a she-devil.

  “Just to the loo. Are you okay?” I was relieved most of the nurses had gone. Only Ursula remained, and she was fiddling with Bella’s nether regions.

  “I am now but please don’t leave me again.”

  “I won’t, babe. I promise.”

  The midwife stood upright and snapped off a pair of latex gloves. “Eight centimetres,” she said. “It shouldn’t be too long now.”

  Another midwife entered pushing something that looked like an oxygen tank.”

  “Oh, good,” I said.

  “Can you ring my sister?” Bella asked me. “Tell her I won’t be home, or she’ll be worrying.”

  “Of course, I’ll go out and do it now.”

  “No! Don’t go. Call her from here.”

  I glanced at Ursula for approval and she nodded. “Okay then, Bells, I’ll stay.” Pulling my phone out of my jeans pocket, I dialled Bella’s home number and stepped to the side of the room.

  “Penelope speaking.”

  “Hi Penny, it’s Dylan. I’m at the hospital with Bella. She’s in labour.”

  “Really? Is she alright?”

  “She’s fine. It came on pretty quick and the midwife seems to think it won’t be long now. I’ll call as soon as there’s any news.”

  “Great. Give her my love and tell her not to worry about things here. I’ve got it covered.”

  “Thanks Penny, er, Penelope, I mean.” I hung up and returned to Bella’s side, surprised to see her attached to the oxygen mask. “What’s that for?” I asked Ursula.

  “It’s pain relief—gas and air,” she said. “We don’t have time to administer any other pain meds. Your baby will be here soon.”

  “Oh, it’s not my baby,” I said. “We’re just friends.”

  Ursula gasped. “Really? Then maybe you should stay at the top of the bed,” she said disapprovingly as she pulled down the sheet to cover Bella’s modesty.

  “Oh no, here comes another,” Bella cried, writhing about on the bed in agony.

  “Pant, Bella,” Ursula said. “Do it with me.” She began huffing.

  Bella joined in until the pain subsided.

  “Maybe you can rub her back—that sometimes helps,” Ursula said to me.

  “Of course. Sit forward, Bella, so I can rub your back.”

  “I don’t want you to rub my fucking back. I don’t want you to touch me.”

  Shocked by the venom in her voice, I stepped away. “Okay, suit yourself, I’m only trying to help.”

  “I’m sorry, Dylan.” Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it. Don’t be mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad.” I took her outstretched hand once again.

  She winced as another contraction started. “Something’s wrong. Please help me,” she pleaded with Ursula. “Something’s really wrong, I’m certain of it.”

  Ursula checked the monitor and turned a dial. The room was suddenly filled with a gentle thrum. It took a second for it to register it was the baby’s heartbeat. “Your baby’s doing fine, Bella. Don’t worry, everything’s perfectly normal.”

  “I don’t wanna do it. I can’t do it, Dylan. Oh, my God, please, someone, please help me.”

  Twelve

  I was out of my depth. Bella’s cries got louder, and her nails dug deeper. I was relieved when Ursula told us it was time to push.

  “Right, my love. As soon as you feel your next contraction, I need you to bear down as though you’re having a poo.”

  “No way! What if I poo? I don’t want everyone to see my…” She gripped my hand as another wave of pain washed over her.

  “Push, Bella,” Ursula urged.

  Bella did as instructed; her face turned a deep shade of purple.

  “That’s it. Good girl,” Ursula said.

  I took a leaf out of her book. “That’s it, Bells, push that bowling ball out.”

  Bella huffed out a laugh and pushed again.

  “Okay. Stop now,” Ursula said. “Wait for the next contraction, you’re doing really well.”

  “I don’t feel like I’m doing well,” she sobbed.

  “What? Of course you are.” I stroked her forehead.

  She grabbed my hand with hers and threw it off. “Don’t touch me,” she yelled in my face.

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

  “Right, Bella are you ready? Let’s make this pain count.” Ursula folded the sheet back.

  Five minutes later, Bella squeezed a wrinkly baby boy from her foofoo.

  “You did it, Bells,” I said, suddenly overcome with emotion.

  Ursula cut the cord and wiped some thick white mucus off the baby’s body before placing him on Bella’s tummy.

  Tears flowed freely down her face. “He’s perfect,” Bella said, totally besotted with her baby boy. “Isn’t he beautiful, Dylan?”

  I hesitated. “The face only a mother could love.” I laughed. “He’s a bit wrinkly, and his nose looks as though he’s gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.”

  Bella snorted. “Did you hear your uncle Dylan,” she cooed at the fidgeting bundle.

  Another midwife entered. “Gosh, you don’t waste time, do you?” she grinned. “Let’s have a look.”

  “Okay, Bella. I need you to deliver the placenta,” Ursula said.

  “Here, let me take the baby. I need to clean him up and weigh him anyway,” the other midwife said.

  Bella reluctantly handed the baby over.

  “Do you have a name yet?” the midwife asked.

  Bella glanced at me. “I need to check with Simon first, but I was thinking I’d like to call him Dylan.”

  My breath hitched in my throat and I felt my eyes filling again. “Really?”

  She nodded and allowed her own tears to fall.

  “That means the world to me,” I said. “And I was only kidding. He’s a gorgeous baby—just perfect.”

  Thirteen

  The bedside alarm clock shook me awake. I reached across and hit the snooze button.

  Squinting to see the time, I groaned upon the realisation I’d only managed to get about two hours, and could quite easily have called in sick, rolled over, closed my eyes and slept the entire day.

  The alarm sounded again. Unable to deal with the ringing, I knocked it off the ca
binet, forced myself out of bed and stumbled half-awake to the bathroom. A few minutes later, the hot jets of the shower pummelled my skin. It felt good and dragged me kicking and screaming into the land of the living. I scrubbed at my face again, hoping to have eradicated all trace of makeup, but even when dry, dressed and ready to leave, I could still see a hint of dark eyeliner. Hopefully, nobody would notice.

  I arrived at the station just before 7am, parched and dying for a large mug of strong black coffee.

  Already counting down the hours until home time, I strolled down the long corridor toward my office, otherwise known as the incident room. I pushed the doors open surprised to see somebody there so early.

  “Morning, boss,” Will said, far too jovially for this ungodly hour of the day.

  “You’re in early,” I replied. “Did you shit the bed or something?”

  He laughed. “I’ve got a shed load to do and wanted some peace and quiet before the rest of the team showed up.”

  “Seems we had the same idea. Is Janine in yet?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “She popped her head in about half an hour ago.”

  “How did she seem?”

  “Chirpy,” was all he said.

  “Well, that’s something at least. I’ll pop down and show my face. Do you want a coffee on the way back?”

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  “Cool, won’t be long.”

  I turned away.

  “Oh, and boss, one more thing before you go.” He was smiling.

  “Yeah,” I said, turning back. “What is it?”

  “Nice eyeliner,” he croaked before bursting out laughing.

  “Piss off, Will.”

  I stomped off, leaving him in fits of giggles.

  Rushing into the toilet, I checked my reflection in the mirror. “Shit!” It was obvious, but I didn’t have time to waste this morning. What was the old expression about suffering for one’s art? I’d spend the day as the butt of never-ending jokes, but it beat scrubbing my skin raw.

  I was in and out of Janine’s office in five minutes and, luckily, she didn’t mention anything about the eyeliner, if she even noticed it at all.