A Little Love

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘Remember about keeping calm?’

  ‘Yes,’ she squeaked.

  ‘Good. Now here’s the thing. I’ve been sick all night. I’ve got a terrible bug and I can’t risk giving that to you or the baby; that would be dreadful. You’ll have go to the hospital with Milly. I’ll call you a cab and the two of you go downstairs.’

  ‘What? No way! I’d rather go with you. Please, Pru!’

  ‘It’ll be fine. Just make sure you keep warm and stay calm.’

  ‘Oh God! I’m really scared. Can’t you just not breathe on me or something? Please.’ Meg’s breath was fast and nervous. She and Milly had started to break down barriers over the last day or so, it was true, and they might even have laid the kindling for a friendship, but the way Milly had treated her originally was still fresh in her mind. She wanted Pru by her side.

  ‘You have to keep calm, Meg. I’m sending Milly up now.’ She clicked off the call and looked at the photograph of Alfie. ‘Don’t look at me like that!’ she protested, then hurried along to Milly’s bedroom.

  ‘Mills?’ she hissed into the darkness.

  ‘What? What time is it?’ Milly clicked on her bedside lamp.

  ‘It’s three o’clock. Listen to me, I’ve got a terrible bug, I’ve been sick all night.’

  ‘Well I don’t bloody want it!’ Milly sat up in bed and shooed her away. ‘Get out!’

  Pru held a flannel over her face. ‘Here’s the thing, Mills. Meg has gone into labour and you need to take her to the hospital. I would go myself, but I can’t risk giving this to her and the baby.’

  ‘Are you kidding me? You want me to go?’ Milly shook her head, casting around for her slippers.

  ‘Yes and hurry! She’s upstairs and starting to panic. I’ll call you a cab and it will all be fine. Just trust me on this, all right?’

  ‘Last time you said that to me it was when you were trying to make me jump over the chicken coop with a pair of pants over my eyes as a blindfold. You said it’d be fine and I ended up with eight stitches in my leg.’

  ‘I was nine, for God’s sake!’

  ‘You were a silly cow then.’

  ‘And you were a daft moo. Still are,’ Pru whispered back as she crept from Milly’s bedroom.

  Fifteen minutes later Pru stood in her dressing gown with her ear pressed to her front door. She heard the two of them descending the stairs.

  ‘Careful now, watch your step,’ Milly coaxed.

  ‘Have you got my bag?’ Meg asked.

  ‘Yep, don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got your bag right here. You’re going to be just fine.’

  Pru smiled into her cup of tea, nibbled her toast and honey and closed her eyes. Special bonds sometimes had to be nurtured.

  19

  Pru donned her sunglasses and then removed them, deciding they made her far more conspicuous at this time in the morning. She glanced up and down Curzon Street: no one stood out and she couldn’t see any lenses pointing in her direction. She calmly hailed a cab and jumped in, her first public outing since the story had broken.

  It was with a twist to her stomach that Pru walked the corridor of St Thomas’s, remembering all too vividly the last time she had been inside the building on that dreadful night a couple of months ago. In truth, it felt like a lifetime ago. God only knew how it would make Meg feel being under this roof again.

  She rode the lift to the sixth floor and took a deep breath before the lift doors opened. She sometimes felt almost guilty in the company of women who were mothers, as if she hadn’t quite fulfilled her purpose. At the age of twenty, she’d felt the slight stir of panic at the fact she was still single. By thirty, with the constant haranguing of her mother echoing in her ears, that slight swell had become a mini tornado, the swirl of which made sleep impossible and fuelled bad dreams. In her forties, it had been quashed, coming full circle, replaced by a calm acceptance. But still it had the power to overwhelm her with a jealousy so acute it could make her weep. Christopher had been right, you did actually miss them the most in your later years, when you had time on your hands and were able to draw up a list of regrets, successes and maybes. Pru knew that for her list of regrets she would require at least one extra sheet of paper.

  She wandered past couples sitting with heads close together, staring at their tightly wrapped pink-faced new arrivals as if in a bubble, looking bewildered and ecstatic in equal measure. As directed by the smiley nurse, she stopped at the foot of the bed at the far end of the ward. Her heart lifted with joy. Meg lay against the pillows and slept. She looked pale and tired, but peaceful. Milly sat in the tall green vinyl wingback chair to the side of the bed. In her arms lay a little bundle from which poked a tiny arm and fingers coiled into a fist that punched the air. Milly kissed the miniature fingers and smoothed the fine covering of hair on the baby’s head. ‘Sssssh,’ she cooed, even though the baby hadn’t made a sound.

  Pru crept forward and bent down, hovering by the side of the chair. Milly didn’t take her eyes off the baby. ‘Hello there, Aunty Pru. Meet Lucas William.’

  Pru looked at the crumpled face and squashed nose of the little boy who slept in her cousin’s arms.

  ‘Isn’t he absolutely beautiful?’

  Pru nodded. ‘Yes, he really is. Are you okay?’

  ‘I am. Meg was amazing.’

  ‘Was she?’ Pru choked back the tears that threatened to spill. She wished she had been there to witness it all.

  ‘She was. She was frightened, we both were, it was really scary. But they talked us through everything and she kept calm. Little Lucas couldn’t make up his mind whether he was coming or not, so things kept slowing down and then speeding up and then they slowed and finally it was a sprint finish! It’s been the most amazing night of my life. I’m exhausted and ecstatic all at the same time. I’ve laughed and cried and, most amazing of all, I got to see this little fella arriving in the world!’

  ‘You are very lucky, that’s a rare thing.’

  ‘It is that, mate.’ Milly continued to talk quickly, partly through excitement and partly because she was running on nervous energy. ‘It got pretty terrifying at times and I wasn’t even at the business end, if you get my drift.’

  ‘I get your drift, Mills.’

  ‘What you and Bobby had was special, Pru. I guess I was a bit jealous. You were her mum and I was always her aunty.’ Milly looked Pru straight in the eye. ‘I can see that now and it’s okay.’

  Pru was unable to speak, storing away the sweetest words she had ever heard.

  ‘And you know, Pru, last night, seeing Lucas arrive, it’s kind of put things into perspective. It’s what life is, isn’t it? Being born and then dying, with a chunk in between that you have to make the best of, because that’s all we’ve got, isn’t it?’

  ‘Pretty much, love. Yes.’

  ‘Oh, you brought muffins!’ Milly licked her lips at the sight of the wicker basket full of little white-chocolate muffins, artfully stacked, with blue ribbons streaming from the handle. ‘They look gorgeous, what a great idea.’

  ‘I’m sure Meg’ll love them, won’t she?’ Pru felt a pang of sadness for her darling Bobby, remembering how she’d practically demanded just such a basket of muffins for her own baby… Henry, that was it.

  ‘Meg was very calm. Even when it got bad, she was incredible. A real trouper!’

  ‘I couldn’t have done it without you, Milly,’ Meg piped up from the bed.

  ‘Hey, she’s awake!’

  Pru bent over and gave her a hug. ‘I am really proud of you, Meg. I’m really proud of you both.’

  ‘Do you want to cuddle him?’ Milly held Lucas up.

  ‘Is that all right?’ She checked with Meg.

  ‘Don’t be daft, course it is!’

  Gingerly Pru took the baby into her arms. It felt wonderful. It didn’t matter that her childbearing days were behind her; her pulse raced and her womb pulsed as she nuzzled him close to her skin, inhaling the gorgeous scent of him. ‘Hello, Lucas, hello
darling!’

  He made a small mewling noise.

  ‘He’s due a feed actually.’ Milly looked at her watch.

  Pru handed him to his mum and watched, fascinated as he latched on and started to guzzle. ‘Look at you, you’re an absolute natural.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that. I’m shit scared actually.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s the same for everyone in this room. It’s just that some are better at hiding it than others.’

  ‘I’ve been lying here feeling quite sad. I mean, happy, obviously, that I’ve got Lucas. But I feel a bit like I’ve let him down already.’

  ‘Well of course you haven’t, he’s only just arrived!’ Milly shook her head.

  ‘I know, but I keep looking at all the other babies, who are lying there with mums and dads and already I’ve short-changed him, haven’t I? He’s only got me.’

  ‘No, he’s got us!’ Pru insisted. ‘You’re not on your own, Meg.’

  ‘I want to thank you, Pru, for everything. You’ve been amazing to me and you didn’t have to be. I don’t know what we’d have done without you, I really don’t.’

  Milly sat down on the edge of Meg’s bed. ‘I was thinking we could turn the little room into a nursery. We could paint it and get him nice things. I’d love that. I can help you!’

  Pru turned to her cousin. ‘I don’t think I have ever been more proud of you than I am at this very moment. You are wonderful.’

  Milly grinned and rubbed Pru’s back. ‘You look good, Pru. How’s your bug?’

  ‘What bug?’

  ‘I thought as much!’ Milly shook her head.

  ‘It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it, Pru?’ Meg smiled at Lucas, who was starting to look a little sleepy. ‘Who’d have thought we’d have ended up here, hey, mate?’

  ‘Life is never what you plan, trust me.’ Pru blinked away the image of waking up with Christopher watching over her.

  ‘I wish…’ Meg stuttered.

  ‘You wish what, Meg?’ Pru asked.

  ‘I wish Bill was here and I wish Lucas had someone he was related to – apart from you two of course.’ She beamed. ‘But a proper blood relative like me. It’s what I wanted all those years when I was in foster care, someone who had my blood in their veins. I know it sounds stupid, but when you haven’t got it, it becomes important.’

  Pru breathed in the cool evening air as she scrolled through the contacts in her phone, locating not Isabel’s number but Christopher’s. Her finger hovered over it. She had the perfect excuse for making contact. But then she thought better of it; why sprinkle salt on her wound? Hearing his off-hand tone and cool, staccato delivery would only make her feel worse and she was in no mood to forgive him.

  She sighed, rattling the phone in her hand, half hoping it would tumble out of her palm and shatter on the pavement below. She didn’t really want to have this conversation. Pru stared at the keypad, trying to find the courage, unsure how to start. She shuddered at the thought that Christopher might have shared her story with Isabel; God only knows what she would have made of that. She drew her shoulders back and took a deep breath. This wasn’t about her, it was about Meg and Lucas.

  Pru pushed the call button and closed her eyes. It was picked up instantly. The voice at the other end sounded old and croaky. It was the kind of voice a pantomime witch might have, or a feared old crone; nothing about her tone or manner suggested it was the same woman who had chatted to Pru over the scrubbed kitchen table some three months earlier. That woman had been excited about her future, clapping as she held court and so energised that she practically sang. Pru had been intimidated and irritated in equal measure by her vitality and energy, and had laughed at her preoccupation with wedding bows and centrepieces. This woman sounded broken, unrecognisable. She had hoped that she might have healed a little since the funeral, but that didn’t appear to be the case.

  ‘Isabel? Hello, it’s Pru here, Bobby’s aunt.’ Pru closed her eyes. Am I still Bobby’s aunt? How I miss her.

  ‘Hello, Pru.’ She sounded flat and unsurprised to be hearing from her, as if nothing could surprise or interest her ever again, not now that the very worst had happened.

  ‘How are you?’ Pru cringed. It was a question she asked automatically, but she knew how Isabel was and to make her search for the words felt cruel.

  ‘I’m, you know…’ Isabel offered.

  Yes, Pru did know, which was precisely why she had shied away from calling before. She preferred to write a card and then a letter, penned from the safe distance of her office desk. It felt easier to write down what would otherwise have stuttered in her throat. Easier or more cowardly, she suddenly wasn’t so sure.

  ‘I am so sorry to disturb you, Isabel.’ She paused, giving Isabel the chance to say, ‘That’s okay’ or, ‘You are not disturbing me’. She offered neither. ‘This is a very difficult conversation to start and I would come and see you and talk to you in person. But, well, here it is—’

  ‘What’s happened? Is it Christopher?’ Her voice was again level, almost as if she expected something bad to befall her last bastion of support.

  ‘No! No, not Christopher.’ Pru paused, wishing that she were the person closest to him, the one that would call in an emergency, but quickly quashed the happy flicker at Isabel even thinking she might be. ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this and please forgive my being blunt, but as I said, I don’t really know where to begin.’

  ‘Go on.’ Isabel sounded uninterested and slightly impatient.

  ‘Just after William died, I met a young girl called Meg…’

  Pru closed her eyes and told Isabel the full story, trying to make the situation sound positive, choosing words that painted William as hapless rather than duplicitous. She paused only when Isabel’s sob broke her rhythm.

  ‘And is she saying it is William’s?’

  ‘Yes. It is William’s. She gave birth a few hours ago to a little boy who she called Lucas William, your grandson.’

  ‘What utter rubbish! The girl is obviously after something, although what she thinks she can get out of it, God only knows!’

  ‘I understand why you might think that, but I can assure you it’s not the case. Meg is genuine and she has given birth to your grandson. I’ve seen photos of her and William, and letters.’

  Her revelation was met by silence.

  ‘I thought I should call you to let you know of his existence, and to tell you that he will be here with us in Curzon Street, if you would like to come and meet him. You would of course be made very welcome. I know it’s an awful lot to take in, but it would be lovely to see you.’

  ‘Why are you involved with this girl? I don’t understand how she is connected to you.’ Isabel ignored the invite.

  ‘It’s a long story. I met her once and stepped in to help her; she was having a very hard time.’

  Isabel made a noise that sounded like ‘Hmph’, reminding Pru that no one had had as hard a time as she had.

  ‘I can only imagine how this must sound, Isabel, and I know it’s a big shock. Believe me, it’s not easy being the one giving you this news.’

  ‘It’s not news,’ she interrupted, ‘it’s lies. William would not have done that, he wouldn’t. He loved Bobby. I know he did. He was so excited about the wedding. We had that party! You were here, it was a perfect day, absolutely perfect.’

  ‘Yes it was. And he did love her and she knew that. But I do believe he also loved Meg and—’

  ‘No. Stop it, Pru! Just stop right there! I don’t want to hear any more. It’s not true, he’s gone and I won’t have any grandchildren. That possibility died with my son.’ She sobbed. ‘To suggest otherwise is very cruel and more than I can bear to consider.’

  ‘But that’s just it, Isabel, that possibility didn’t die! Lucas is here and he’s wonderful, he—’

  Pru stopped talking as Isabel clicked the phone into the receiver and was gone.

  ‘He could do with a link to his daddy.’ Pru looked sk
ywards. ‘Oh, Billy-boy, the things I do for you!’

  In the space of just a few days, Lucas, the newest resident of Curzon Street, had become the biggest time sponge Pru had ever encountered. All three women in his life spent hours watching him, bathing him, dressing him up and allowing him to sleep in their willing arms. It had sent all their normal routines into disarray.

  So when Pru heard the doorbell ringing early one morning, she was still only half-dressed. She looked out of the window and saw a shiny fat silver Mercedes parked on the double yellows with its hazard lights on. Her heart soared as she recalled the last time someone had called for her at such an early hour, parked illegally and giving her ten minutes in which to get ready. She shoved her dressing gown on over her slip and ran down the stairs, brushing her hair with her fingers as she went.

  She opened the door, trying to look casual and alluring at the same time. Her shoulders sank and her smile faded at the sight of Isabel clutching at her handbag and looking close to tears, but she quickly rallied and rushed forward.

  ‘Oh, Isabel, it’s so lovely to see you!’ She held her arms out to the woman who would have been Bobby’s mother-in-law and the two stood in a silent embrace. ‘I am so very glad you came.’ Pru stood back and held her hand, sincere.

  There was a scuffling behind them and Meg appeared with Lucas in her arms.

  Pru let go of Isabel’s hand and gestured to Meg – slight, pale, pretty Meg, who hovered in her jeans and a floral shirt. ‘This is Meg, who I told you about.’

  Meg stood shaking, trying to contain all that she had been told and unsure of what to expect. She knew she was a million miles from everything that Bobby had been and was nervous about how she would measure up. ‘Hello,’ she said, extending her hand. Isabel ignored it and instead pulled her into a hug.

  ‘I’ve come to see the little boy,’ Isabel whispered, hardly daring to believe that it was true.

  ‘Your grandson,’ Meg said, lifting the sleepy Lucas up towards his grandma for closer scrutiny. He sighed and mimed feeding in his mother’s arms. His little tummy rose and fell and he placed his scrunched fist against his cheek, angelic.