On My Life

by Angela Clarke

  His face is as unyielding as stone. ‘If there even is a baby.’

  The words slap me across the table. Judith lets out a mewling sound and clutches at David’s shirtsleeve.

  You think I would have a baby here deliberately? No. That’s not what you mean. You mean I’m lying. That I’ve created a phantom baby. He doesn’t trust me at all. Has he ever? Was he always waiting and watching and sowing seeds of doubt? I think of the day Emily won the county swimming cup. He was so proud. He hugged her. He loved her. But his type of love is twisted, controlling, rotten.

  ‘It’s convenient, isn’t it?’ he prods. ‘You get arrested and then suddenly you’re pregnant.’ His voice is rising. I glance nervously around. No one else must hear this. ‘Did you think it would make people sympathetic? You probably get a cushy ride in here now, huh?’

  ‘You can ask the doctor.’ I don’t know if they can. I don’t care. ‘I didn’t plan this.’

  He snorts. Judith’s pain flutters between us like a moth at a flame.

  I lean forward, speak as clearly as I dare. ‘I’m pregnant. It’s Robert’s child. You can help me or not. But it’s your grandchild.’ I need them to accept it. I need money. A great lawyer. Bail. I can go to the hospital normally. I can eat properly. I can care for this baby. I can find Robert. I can find out if David did this. I dig my fingernails into my palm.

  David nods. ‘Okay.’

  I exhale. He’s going to help. He’s going to get me out. Does this mean it wasn’t him? Or that he’s feeling guilty? ‘I’m happy to go with a lawyer of your choosing,’ I say. I bet they have barristers among their set.

  ‘No,’ David says.

  I stammer. ‘Okay. Then I’m sure I can find one.’ Ness can Google it for me.

  ‘I’m not giving you any more of my money.’ Specks of his spittle land on my face. His voice is icy. ‘I hired a private investigator. Did you really think we wouldn’t find out about you?’

  Panic breaks free inside me, pulling hard and fast on my ribs. My lungs fight to keep breathing. My chest screams.

  What do they know?

  Now

  David shakes his head. ‘I know all about that criminal hothouse you came from. A delinquent estate full of illegal immigrants and god knows what kind of other people.’

  I grip the table, trying to hold on. ‘I thought Robert told you?’

  ‘The dregs of society.’ David wrinkles his nose. Judith starts to cry. ‘You’re just a money-grabbing little tart with a filthy drug addict mother.’

  I look to Judith. ‘He said you didn’t care.’ Judith looks away. And I realise. It was Robert who didn’t care. Robert who has never been judged based on where he was born, where he grew up. Robert who never had anyone form opinions on him, on his character, before he’d even spoken.

  ‘People like that,’ David looks round with a sneer, ‘are a drain on society. It’d be kinder to put them down.’

  ‘How dare you talk about my mum like that!’ Fury pours out of me.

  ‘Be quiet, woman.’ David’s voice is glacial, all traces of the jovial guy at the family barbecue gone. ‘You have taken everything from us. Everything.’

  ‘No.’ I shake my head. The chatter of the room drops away, and it’s just him and me, and hatred in his eyes.

  ‘I will see you rot in jail,’ he says.

  ‘No.’ I clutch my stomach. The baby. ‘I loved . . . love Robert. Loved Emily!’

  ‘He should have listened to me when I warned him about you.’ David stands.

  He warned Robert about me? What did he say? What did Robert say? He never told me. He always said they liked me. He shielded me from this.

  ‘You will not keep that baby.’ David’s words explode between us.

  Abort? They can’t force me.

  ‘You can’t look after it in here.’ Judith throws her arms up.

  ‘You won’t ruin another of my grandchildren,’ he says. ‘We will have the baby.’

  David’s words break like waves over me, winding me, holding me under. They don’t think I’m ever getting out.

  ‘A baby can’t live here,’ Judith says, imploring, desperate.

  There’s still some connection in her eyes, I haven’t lost her yet. ‘I’m its mother. You can’t—’

  ‘We will raise it,’ David says, pulling Judith brusquely to her unsteady feet. ‘I have already spoken to our lawyer. We have started proceedings.’

  What proceedings? What does he mean? ‘The baby’s not even born yet.’ I clutch my stomach. The thought of being separated from my child, separated from the last part of Robert I have . . . no.

  ‘You have to see this is for the best?’ Judith says.

  ‘A child belongs with its mother.’ The words come rushing out. I think of Emily and her lost mother. Would she still be alive if her mother had lived? Could her mum have protected her more than we did? But I’m in here. I’m alone. ‘Ness can help.’

  ‘And what kind of upbringing would she give a child?’ Judith says.

  David jabs toward my stomach. ‘That baby is mine.’

  Panic floods like dirty water through me. He’s already started proceedings. He means custody. He is going for custody of my baby. David with all his money and his high-powered lawyers, and his beautiful house and parkland, and opportunity, and freedom. Him out there. Emily and Robert are gone and he wants my baby.

  Judith looks at me. Swallows. If there’s any doubt in her mind, she can stop this.

  ‘Come on, Judith,’ David says. ‘We shouldn’t have come to this place.’

  ‘Please Judith, don’t do this.’ I jump up and reach for her arm. Judith screams. ‘I didn’t do it – please!’

  ‘Sit down, prisoner!’ a shout comes from Kev. He and Sara start toward me.

  I throw my arms up in surrender, my jumper rucks, exposing my stomach. If they tackle me they could hurt the baby.

  Judith looks shocked. David pulls her away.

  The whole room is silent. Faces turned toward me. The guards stand a metre away like I might explode and take them all down with me. I want to disappear. To collapse into nothing. Instead I see the women around me, several with their left sleeve rolled, turn their gaze down to my swollen belly. Pregnant. My secret is out.

  Then

  ‘What do you think?’ Ness turns her phone toward me. On the screen is a photo of a ripped topless guy.

  ‘Well, you obviously both like going to the gym,’ I say. ‘What does his bio say?’

  ‘Too late – I swiped right,’ she grins, tucking a swathe of her red hair behind her ear.

  ‘Do you even know his name?’ Even when I was single I wouldn’t have gone near Tinder. But Ness has always been more ballsy than me.

  ‘I’m not interested in his name.’ Her sleeves are pulled down over her hands, and she cradles her tea. ‘Says he’s less than two miles from here – if it works out we could be neighbours.’

  ‘You haven’t even met him and you’re already moving in.’ I push the coaster toward her. Robert doesn’t like rings on his table. Our table. I have to stop separating things out like this.

  ‘Oh yeah, don’t want to rush into anything.’ Her rising eyebrows disappear behind the mug.

  I feel my cheeks flush. Was that a dig about me? I take my own mug to the butler sink and empty the rest of my coffee away – suddenly it tastes bitter. I flick the tap on, but I’ve still not quite got the hang of it and it gushes out, splashing up over my sweater. I’ll have to change. ‘Drat.’

  ‘I just want to find a decent guy, you know?’ Ness says. She looks wistfully round the kitchen and I feel a pang of guilt that I’ve got Robert, when her exes have hardly been the best bunch.

  ‘You will. Maybe it’s this guy,’ I grin, pointing at her phone.

  ‘Knowing my luck he’ll be a penniless plonker with roid rage,’ she laughs.

  That pretty much describes her last boyfriend. I tread carefully. ‘Maybe it’s good you’re looking further afield.’ Away from the
losers she meets through her friends. ‘A fresh sea to fish in, and all that.’

  I expect her to crack a joke, or tell me to shut up, but instead she looks up and holds my gaze. ‘Do you ever think about Mum’s crappy men?’

  I try not to think about that time at all. When Mum quit drugs she thankfully quit men too.

  Ness pushes on. ‘They say that you unconsciously mimic your parents’ relationships, don’t they?’

  I remember one of Mum’s recurrent boyfriends. If you could call Carl that. He showed up whenever there was money in the house, and they would get off their tits in the lounge while Ness and I stayed hidden. The amount of times I did my homework to the background sounds of him smashing up bits of our flat . . . Ness would never date anyone like him. ‘You aren’t doing that,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, well, not if you’re anything to go by,’ she grins. ‘Though maybe you take after your dad.’

  I laugh. Ness and I dealt with the fact we don’t know who our dad is – or even if he’s the same guy – years ago. We always had each other. That was enough.

  ‘You got any biscuits?’ Ness says. ‘Or is this swanky kitchen just for show?’

  I cringe at the word ‘swanky’. ‘Cookies – that cupboard.’ I point to the larder.

  Ness opens the off-white painted wooden door on the array of groceries Michelle organises so neatly. ‘Wow,’ she says. ‘You expecting the five thousand? There’s more in here than I’ve got in my entire kitchen.’ She shakes her head.

  This is the second time Ness has been to the house. I prepped her the first time so she wasn’t too shocked. She still wolf-whistled when we pulled into the drive, Mum silent in the back seat. I thought it best they see the place when Robert and Emily were out. Let them get used to it. We’ve been out as a five for Sunday lunch. And when Emily’s been at swim galas in their direction we’ve met up. They know Robert. But I still didn’t want them judging him. I think that’s why I haven’t showed them his parents’ place yet – I brought them in the back gate. Tried to keep it low key. I want them to be comfortable over Christmas. Our first family Christmas. I’m going to do Nigella’s turkey with all the trimmings, and I’ve been collecting little bits of make-up and Lush bath bombs for a stocking for Emily. It’s going to be perfect.

  ‘What the hell is this?’ Ness holds up a packet of dark green sheets.

  ‘Seaweed – it’s healthy, you’d like it,’ I say.

  Ness wrinkles her nose. ‘No fucking chance.’

  The back door opens from outside, the icy November air seeming to suck all the warmth from the room.

  Judith stands there in her Barbour jacket, her eyes wide. Did she hear Ness swear? They’re not keen on bad language.

  ‘Judith!’ I force a bright smile onto my face.

  ‘Oh,’ she says. ‘I didn’t realise you had company.’ She stares at Ness, who now has hold of a tin of foie gras as well.

  I dry my hands quickly on the tea towel. ‘This is my sister Ness. Ness, this is Robert’s mum.’ This wasn’t supposed to happen. What is she doing here?

  ‘All right?’ Ness says.

  Judith’s gaze falls back on the tea towel I’ve just abandoned. I pick it up and hang it properly from the hook. ‘Hello.’ Her smile is tight. ‘Goodness, it looks like a jumble sale in here, darling.’ She snatches up Ness’s jacket from the back of the kitchen chair.

  A nervous laugh forces its way out my mouth. She definitely heard the swear. I hold my hand out for Ness’s puffa, wishing it was something a little less urban. ‘Of course – my fault. I didn’t show Ness where to hang it. She just stopped by to talk about Christmas plans,’ I say. ‘All the planning – hey? Why do we put ourselves through it?’ What am I saying? I don’t even mean that. I’m looking forward to it.

  Judith looks perplexed. ‘We’ve always taken Christmas very seriously in our family.’

  I look at Ness in desperation.

  The sound of crunching feet on the gravel outside heralds my saviour. Robert appears behind his mother. ‘Ness!’ he says. ‘I didn’t know you were coming over today. You staying for supper?’

  He skirts Judith and hugs my sister.

  She hugs him back. ‘Nah, got to get back for work, but I was in the area so I thought I’d stop by and say hello.’

  ‘Emily will be gutted to have missed you.’ He smiles.

  ‘Plus I’ve been checking out your local meat market,’ Ness says.

  Oh no.

  ‘Jennifer never said her family were in farming as well?’ Judith’s face has given slightly.

  ‘No fear,’ Ness says. ‘I couldn’t be doing with all that mud and cow shit. Bleurgh.’ She grimaces.

  Judith frowns, looks as if she’s about to ask for clarification.

  I glare at Ness. ‘Who’d like a cup of tea?’ I say before she can start explaining the finer details of Tinder.

  ‘Oh, I’d love one.’ Robert pauses next to me, squeezing my shoulder and kissing the side of my head. Instantly I relax: warmth radiating through my muscles. He looks into my eyes. He gets it.

  Within minutes he has Judith and Ness sitting round the reclaimed wooden table and has managed to find the one thing they have in common: outdoor activities. They’re happily comparing the best walks they’ve done in the surrounding areas, Ness talking about step counts and miles, Judith talking dogs and views.

  Just for a second, I allow myself to believe it’s going to be okay.

  Now

  ‘I can’t believe you never said.’ Kelly has her arms folded over her bump.

  News has obviously travelled about my showdown in the visitors’ room. My head’s spinning from what David and Judith said. A week after Judith met Ness our Christmas plans were cancelled. Robert said it was because Emily wanted to spend the day with her grandparents as usual, but I never believed that. Emily didn’t like being up at the big house. I always suspected Judith and David were behind the sudden rearrangement. But this? Taking my baby. The look in David’s eyes. Robert always said you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of his dad.

  ‘After everything that’s happened! After Gould came in here, and I didn’t sell you out!’ Kelly’s face has the hard glaze of self-protection. ‘You lied to me! You’re a fucking liar!’

  Adrenaline must have fired me up during the confrontation with David, but now it’s spilled out of me and there’s nothing left but heavy exhaustion. The baby rattling around inside an empty tin can. I can’t deal with this. ‘I only just found out.’ Four weeks ago.

  Kelly’s face shifts from accusation to delight. ‘This is brilliant. We can be birthing partners!’ Is it her hormones, her age? Her mood shifts liquid from one extreme to the other.

  I ache. My limbs are heavy, sore, as if I can’t quite stretch into the stiffness.

  She opens her arms wide and grabs me for a surprise hug. It’s the first kind physical contact I’ve had in days. I feel her arms around me, like she’s holding me up. Remnants of a plan float through my mind, but I’m too tired to action them. Each one makes me want to cry. That feeling of spiralling out of control, as if everything is about to overwhelm me. I need to speak to Mr Peterson. I need to speak to Ness. They can’t take my baby, can they? I have no idea how this works. I thought I would be out before the baby arrived. I will see that you rot in here. The ridiculous notion that David knew I was pregnant before I did comes to my mind. That he somehow engineered this whole thing to get my baby. To control my child. I cling to Kelly, her back arching away as her bump presses against mine. A picture of two babies, palms up, pressed together, with prison glass between them.

  ‘I’m just so tired.’

  ‘I know, love,’ she says. ‘That first trimester’s a killer. Here.’ She helps me into bed.

  I don’t tell her I think I’m into my second, that I should have had my scan, that I’ve been so frightened of anyone finding out I haven’t fought for my baby’s rights. That I’ve already failed my child. I should get up. I should be working on a new plan.
A baby can’t live here. I haven’t even asked Kelly what her plan is. I can’t believe I never asked her. What happens? Can they take my baby away? I haven’t seen any babies in here. Is there a special place new mothers go? I think of Gould and the rolled left sleeves. But as Kelly tucks the blanket in, like Ness used to, I let go. My limbs sink into the mattress. I shiver. Suddenly cold. As if my encounter with David and Judith has literally chilled me.

  Kelly tuts. Pulls the blanket off her bed and adds that on top of me.

  ‘I . . . I need to make a call . . .’ I can barely lift my head.

  ‘Shush,’ she says, smoothing my brow. ‘You have a kip. You’ll feel better after that. I’ll let you know if Association starts.’

  I would nod but my head is too heavy on the pillow. ‘You’re gonna make a brilliant mum,’ I mumble, before my eyelids close and the lights go out.

  In the darkness I see Judith. Small, and fragile, her eyes are desperately searching mine for some clue as to where her lost boy is.

  Then

  Robert’s phone goes to voicemail. Damn it. I leave a breathless message, scraping a brush through my hair as I park up at ours. ‘Sweets, it’s me. Sorry. I got held up with my last client. Then I had to call the florist back. Your dad told her he wants different buttonholes – which is fine, but it means we need to change the bouquets.’ Why on earth did we think we could arrange a wedding in four months, even with holding it at David and Judith’s house? But Robert’s a romantic, and he’s right, there is something magical about getting married on the one-year anniversary of our first date. I take my suit jacket off and fling it into the back seat – no time to change into the dress I’d been planning to wear. ‘I’m guessing you’ve already gone ahead to your parents’. All the lights are off in our house. ‘So I’ll see you up there in a few minutes. Sorry!’

  When I hang up I see another missed call from Ness. Dammit. I keep meaning to call her back. No time now. I fire off a text: I’ll call you later.