by LUCY LAING
We looked into the cot, where the baby lay sleeping.
‘It’s a boy,’ said Rach. ‘I’ve decided to call him Max. He’s been checked over and even though he was two weeks early, he’s doing fine.’
‘That's a lovely name,’ I said. ‘Thank God you didn’t want to call him Jesus or Moses or something.’
‘Your sofa could do with a good clean, or better still throw it away,’ said Tash, ‘there’s all sorts of yucky stuff on it.’ She pulled a face.
‘I’ll get my dad to go round and move it,’ said Rach. ‘I’ll buy another one.’
‘I can’t believe it happened so fast,’ said Tash. ‘When I watched Casualty the woman was pushing and panting for hours, not minutes.’
‘I had been in labour all day and I hadn’t realized it,’ pointed out Rach.
‘Your baby looked quite blue when it came out,’ added Tash. ‘The baby on Casualty was a lovely pink colour – a bit like the doll you brought in. I’d have preferred that.
‘That’s because it was for the television, Tash,’ I explained patiently. I didn’t know much about babies, but I did know they looked horrible and bloody when they were born, not all lovely and pink. Max gave a little cry and Rach picked him out of his cot and cuddled him.
‘Don’t you think he’s beautiful,’ she said. Tash and I glanced at each other. He looked like all newborn babies to me, all scrunched up – but I couldn’t say that to Rach.
‘Yes, he’s lovely,’ I said, dutifully.
‘You two are going to be his godmothers,’ said Rach, smiling at us. ‘And when he’s old enough I’ll tell him how his Aunty Tash delivered him.’ Now Tash had recovered from the shock, she had gone back to her cocky self.
‘Well, it was pretty easy,’ she said, ‘even if I hadn’t watched Casualty I would have still been able to do it. You could almost say it was a breeze.’
I had a vivid flashback of Tash on her knees, sobbing and screaming on the phone to the operator – but I didn’t say anything to pop her bubble of glory. She had done a fantastic job after all.
‘She did what?’ gasped Kaz, when I rang her and Soph on the way back from the hospital. ‘Tash delivered Rach’s baby? Tash – who flips her lid if she so much as breaks a nail? She was crap with that baby doll in the restaurant. How on earth did she manage?’
‘The 999 operator talked her through what to do,’ I said, ‘but she was fantastic. She was covered in blood afterwards, and she didn’t moan once.’
‘Well, I’ll be dammed,’ said Kaz. ‘I never thought she had it in her. Good for Tash. Thank God she did see Casualty that day.’
Rach texted me the following day and asked if we could all go in and see her. The hospital was keeping her in for 48 hours for observation because it had been such a traumatic birth.
‘I’m so bored now,’ texted Rach. ‘Can you come in? We can have a meeting on my hospital bed.’ We all sat in Rach’s cubicle the following night. Soph pounced on baby Max as soon as we sat down, and she wouldn’t let go of him. She was getting really broody.
‘I’d love a baby,’ she said longingly, as Max began to cry and she started rocking him.
‘How's the wedding plans coming along, Soph?’ asked Rach, taking Max from her and starting to feed him.
‘Mum seems to have hijacked the whole thing,’ said Soph. ‘There are more of her friends on the guest list than ours. I asked her if she wants to wear the wedding dress instead of me.’
‘That's what mums do, though,’ said Kaz. ‘It’s an opportunity for them to have their big day all over again.’
‘I know,’ said Soph, ruefully. ‘Actually, I don’t mind her organizing a lot, as it takes the pressure off me.’
‘Does anyone else want a cuddle?’ asked Rach, holding out Max in front of her. ‘Tash?’ Tash shook her head.
‘I’ve done enough holding of babies for this week,’ she said. ‘I’d probably drop him.’
Rach handed him to me, and he snuffled his little face into my cardigan. A warm feeling suddenly washed over me. Was my maternal instinct finally starting to kick in after twenty-nine years of lying completely dormant?
It wasn’t that bad, this baby lark, I decided as I looked down at Max. He had opened his eyes; they were a dark shade of blue. He looked quite content; I drifted off into a daydream. Perhaps, it would be quite nice to have a baby after all? I could go down the stables with the baby strapped in a papoose on my front, and then I could take it into Saleros and have lunch with Kaz. When suddenly – whoosh – a jet of milky-white liquid suddenly shot from Max’s mouth, all over the front of my cardigan.
I looked down in horror. It was my best Karen Millen cardigan, and it was dripping in milky baby sick. I handed Max back to Rach and raced off to the bathroom where I dabbed quickly at the milky mess.
‘You’d better get used to that,’ said a knackered-looking woman, who had shuffled into the bathroom after me. ‘And trying to sit on the toilet when you’ve had 16 stitches put in.’ I felt the urge to cross my legs. Why on earth would you want a needle put into your private parts? It was barbaric.
Any maternal feelings I’d had a few minutes ago, had vanished. There was no way I was ever going to have a baby. I wouldn’t even have a tiny tattoo done on my hip, when Kaz had tried to persuade me. There was no way that any doctor was going to come near me with a sharp needle. Oh no!
I opened the minutes the next day.
PROGRESS REPORTS.
* Kaz has spoken to her hairdresser’s daughter, Heather – the one who had been called Miss Piggy at school – and had invited her on a night out. We were finally going to test the ‘Unattractive Friend’ theory. Tash asked if the hairdresser’s daughter knew that she was to be part of an experiment. Kaz said no, but that she hardly ever went out, apart from to Bingo with her mum, so she was very excited.
* Kaz has been for a hypnotherapy session with Soph’s mum who hypnotized her with the big, eyeball ruby pendant. When she finished the session she had a sudden craving for a burger, so had rung Adam up and invited him to McDonald’s with her. Kaz said the only problem was that she also now had an urge to eat stones and gravel too, so she didn’t know what Soph’s mum had done wrong. Tash asked her if she was sure she wasn’t pregnant as occasionally women have been known to have an urge to eat weird things, like concrete and gravel. Kaz said she definitely wasn’t, but she’d picked Adam up that night from a bungalow he was renovating, and had thought the gravel path there looked delicious. She only decided against popping a piece in her mouth, in case she cracked her tooth. Kaz to go back to Soph’s mum for more hypnotherapy if her bizarre craving continued.
* Tash to contact the Royal College of Midwives to see if delivering Rach’s baby single-handedly on Rach’s sofa would constitute membership. Tash has always fancied having a qualification, as she only managed to scrape a few GCSEs at school. She said if Steve ever sacked her from the stables, then she could freelance, delivering babies at home.
* Bee reported that she had logged on to an internet chat room, but so far it had been a disaster. (I had started chatting to one guy who said he was a modern-day cowboy and loved riding his horses. I had got quite excited at this point, imagining romantic dates with him riding through the forest together. I then asked him where he was from and he said, ‘Ohio, USA.’ Even though I am completely desperate and am in a total love desert, I think flying over to Ohio on a regular basis is a bit impractical.)
* Bee to watch the Planet of the Apes film, and also Gorillas in the Mist. (I had told the girls about my second visit to see Jane Watts, who had now predicted my future lay with apes. So in preparation, they had instructed me to watch both films for educational purposes in preparation. I said I didn’t mind watching Planet of the Apes, but wasn’t keen on watching Gorillas in the Mist as it would make me cry.)
I closed my computer screen down and wandered over to Nick’s desk. On top of his paperwork was an entry form. I picked it up. It was for the National Wildlife Photographe
r of the Year Award, hosted by David Attenborough. Nick had already filled the form in and it was waiting to be posted. I turned it over in my hand thoughtfully, a small smile starting to play around my lips. A perfect opportunity was staring me in the face. Whoever said that revenge was sweet had got it exactly right.
**************************************
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was time to put my plan into action – and the perfect person to help me with revenge was Tash. (Think dog food curry)
‘I’ve thought of the perfect way to get my own back on Nick,’ I told her excitedly that evening.
‘How’s that?’ asked Tash, stirring some horse-feed in a bucket. ‘I thought you weren’t going to speak to him for all eternity.’
‘This is much more satisfying,’ I told her, and outlined my plan. ‘Nick has entered for a national photography competition and the awards are due to be presented by David Attenborough. I’m going to send him a congratulations letter in the post saying that he has been shortlisted for one of the categories, and for him to go to London for the awards ceremony. When he turns up at the venue that I’ve chosen, he will be the only one there.’
‘That’s brilliant,’ she said. ‘I thought I was the queen of revenge tactics, but that's genius,’ she said.
‘I thought it was good,’ I said modestly. ‘It will serve him right for pulling a fast one on us.’
A car drove into the stable yard. I didn’t recognize it. The door opened, and a woman got out. She was wrapped up in a long brown coat, so I didn’t see who it was at first. She was looking around. Then she caught sight of Tash and I, standing by the stable and started to stride over to us.
‘Oh, my God, it’s Hazel Beale,’ muttered Tash. ‘What the hell does she want?’
Hazel came up to us. Her face looked pinched and white.
‘Hi, Hazel,’ said Tash, uncertainly. ‘What can we do for you?’ Hazel folded her arms across her chest.
‘I’ve come to say one thing to you, Tash, and that’s to stay away from my husband. You nearly destroyed my life once, all those years ago, and now you’re set to do it again. Well, I won’t let it happen. ’
Two angry red spots of colour had appeared on her cheeks. I looked at Tash. What on earth was she going to do? Tash spoke calmly, without raising her voice.
‘Hazel, it’s different this time. You were the one who left Rob, and moved in with your gym instructor, in case you had forgotten.’
‘That’s over now,’ Hazel screeched, ‘and I want him back.’
‘I’m afraid that's up to Rob to decide,’ said Tash. ‘It’s not my decision to make. If he wants to go back to you, then I won’t be stopping him.’
‘You little tart,’ shouted Hazel. Her fists were bunching up at her sides. ‘It wasn’t the same between me and Rob after you bewitched him all those years ago. He never quite got over you. No wonder I had to look elsewhere. Well, now I want him back, and he’s the father of my children. Don’t you dare try and take him away from them.’
‘This isn’t getting us anywhere Hazel, shouting like this,’ said Tash. ‘If Rob wants to go back to you and the children, then I will let him go.’
‘He will never be free of you, you little whore,’ said Hazel, rushing at Tash. It took her by surprise and knocked her off balance. I stood rooted to the spot in shock. Tash tried to struggle to her feet, but Hazel was too quick for her. She grabbed a nearby pitchfork and in her rage, swung it at Tash.
‘Stop it, Hazel,’ I shouted, lunging for her arm, but it was too late. The metal handle of the pitchfork caught Tash on the side of the head. She crumpled to the floor again, and this time she didn’t make a sound.
‘You mad bitch, what have you done?’ I shouted at Hazel. She was walking backwards now, a look of terror on her face. Tash still wasn’t moving. A trickle of blood had already started to seep through her hair and run on to the concrete floor.
‘Tash?’ I shook her gently – but she didn’t make her sound. Her eyes were shut and her face was a deathly white. I heard a car roar into action and saw Hazel driving off down the stable drive. With shaking hands I got my mobile out of my pocket and dialed 999.
‘Come quickly,’ I shouted down the phone. ‘My friend’s had an accident, and I don’t know whether she’s alive.’
It seemed like an eternity before I heard the sirens screeching up the drive. I was cradling Tash’s head on my lap, with her blood soaking through my jodhpurs. She still wasn’t conscious.
‘C’mon, Tash, wake up,’ I urged her. ‘You’re going to be all right. Hold on.’
The ambulance had screeched to a halt and the two crew men were running over with a stretcher. They surrounded us both and took Tash’s pulse.
‘What happened?’ asked one of the men.
‘She was having an argument with a woman, who came at her with a pitchfork,’ I sobbed. ‘She hit her on the side of the head, and Tash fell on the floor.’
‘Get her on a stretcher,’ shouted the nearest man. Gently four of the crew lifted Tash on to the stretcher and into the ambulance.
‘What hospital are you going to?’ I shouted.
‘Manchester Infirmary,’ one of the men shouted back to me as he ran to the passenger door and jumped in. The sirens started blazing and the ambulance drove off.
I jumped into my mini and followed the ambulance. It shot through red lights and I quickly got left behind. I could hardly see to drive, with tears streaming down my cheeks. How could this have happened to Tash? – Tash who was so full of life – fierce and proud. I didn’t know what we would do without her. I kept rubbing the tears away from my eyes and drove as fast as I could. I pulled up in the hospital car park and rushed into the Casualty Department.
‘My friend’s been brought in here with a head injury,’ I sobbed to the receptionist. ‘I need to find out what’s happening to her.’
‘Take a seat please, and I’ll do my best to find out,’ replied the woman. I felt like shaking her. Tash could be dead by now – as if I could sit down at a time like this.
‘Bee, is that you?’ asked a voice behind me. I swung round, and could hardly see who it was through my tears. It was Nick.
‘What are you doing here?’ I sobbed.
‘My friend’s had a rugby injury. Popped his thumb out of the socket, so I’ve brought him in,’ said Nick, cheerfully. ‘Why are you here? Has something happened?’
He put his hands on both my shoulders and looked at me, his eyes full of concern. He was wearing a horrible, grey, patterned jumper, but I didn’t care. I flung myself into his arms and buried my head in his chest.
‘It’s Tash,’ I mumbled into his jumper. ‘I think she’s dead.’
‘What on earth has happened?’ asked Nick. Gently he took my hand and led me over to a row of empty, orange, plastic seats. Still sobbing, I told him how Hazel had attacked Tash and clouted her with the pitchfork handle.
‘It was horrible,’ I wept. ‘She crumpled on the floor and her head started pouring with blood. I think Hazel may have killed her.’
I threw myself back into the comfort of his grey jumper, and he held me tightly, stroking my hair. I know I’d sent him to Coventry and it had been quite difficult ignoring him for the last couple of months, but I could make an exception in cases like this. The humiliation of a few fake emails sent by Nick had paled into insignificance, now we didn’t know if Tash was alive or dead. The receptionist came over.
‘They are carrying out tests on your friend now, so we will know some more soon,’ she said, kindly. ‘The doctor will come out and see you shortly.’
I couldn’t say anything and Nick carried on holding me tightly. It was strangely comforting having his arms around me. I’d missed him in a funny kind of way.
‘What about your friend?’ I asked him.
‘I think his thumb will manage without me for a few hours,’ said Nick.
After endless cups of watery coffee from the ancient machine in the corner of the waiting ro
om, a doctor finally walked through the swing doors. He headed straight for us. He smiled at me.
‘Your friend is going to be okay,’ he said. ‘She has a nasty cut to the head, and we’ve had to put quite a few stitches in it, but apart from a bad headache and concussion, she will be okay. We are going to keep her in for observation tonight, to check she doesn’t take a turn for the worse.’
Thank God for that. I could have kissed him.
‘So, she’s not going to die?’ I asked in a small voice.
‘No, not this time,’ the doctor, said, with a smile.
‘Can I see her?’ I asked.
‘She’s sedated at the moment, but if you come back in the morning, then you’ll be able to see her then. ‘
‘Can I see her for one moment, before I go home,’ I begged him.
‘All right, but you will have to be quick. Follow me,’ said the doctor.
He walked through the swing doors and Nick and I followed him. He still had an arm around my shoulder, and I walked close to him, not wanting him to move it. The doctor stopped at one of the doors at the end of the corridor.
‘You can look through the window,’ he said. I peered in through the small square of glass. Tash was lying in the bed with her eyes closed. Machines were beeping by her bedside, and I could see the doctors had shaved off some of her lovely, thick black hair. She had a huge, white bandage wrapped around her head. I could feel my eyes welling up with tears again.
‘It’s probably not as bad as it looks,’ Nick said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
‘She’ll go mad about her hair when she sees that,’ I said as we walked back down the corridor and into the car park.
