by Matt Dunn
And immediately, just as she’d known she was making the right one the second she’d followed Jay through his front door, and especially given the smug smile that had appeared on Rich’s face, Rachel feared she’d made the wrong decision.
Livia scrabbled around on the bedside table for the remote control, and hurriedly turned up the volume on the room’s music system. She’d left Rachel to have it out with Rich and headed back to her room for a siesta, but the noises coming through the wall from Patrick and Izzy’s room next door had made that impossible, and . . . it wasn’t something she’d wanted to listen to – or picture. So she’d told herself that he was having a heart attack and Izzy was trying to revive him, or even that she was trying to murder him. Which Livia could just about have believed, if Patrick hadn’t sounded like he was enjoying it so much.
She’d heard them row, then the ensuing silence when she’d assumed one of them had left, but she’d been wrong – the next set of noises had told her a full-on session of make-up sex was occurring, and Livia had smiled wistfully to herself. Make-up sex – or any sex – had been off the cards for the last few months. She just hadn’t felt in the mood – or attractive enough, given the way her body had changed through the pregnancy. And if she felt that way . . . well, she couldn’t imagine that Jed would want to touch her. She had packed some special lingerie for this evening – it was her wedding night after all – but she still hadn’t decided whether she was going to wear it. The top half looked okay, especially given her currently porn-star-sized breasts, but the thong . . . She’d tried it on earlier and it had all but disappeared. Which was a look in itself, she supposed.
The sound of church bells from the street outside reminded her she’d soon be getting married, and Livia supposed she could start getting ready. Jed would need to get dressed too, Liam making sure he’d knotted his tie correctly – assuming Liam even knew what a tie was. Then she remembered Jed’s clothes were still in their room and she started to feel a little . . . nervous? At least, she hoped that must be what the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach was.
She pulled her phone out and called Jed’s number, but when it went straight to voicemail, she hastily pressed ‘End’ and dialled Patrick’s instead, before remembering he quite probably wasn’t in a position to answer. And though her call seemed to instigate a slight pause in the ‘hostilities’ she could hear coming through the wall, it – perhaps unsurprisingly – went unanswered.
Where was Jed? He hadn’t been with Liam when she’d collared him earlier; Patrick was with Izzy; and Rachel – well, she had her hands full with Rich right now. And when Livia thought back, she realised she hadn’t seen her fiancé – or seen anyone who’d seen him – since their earlier altercation at the jewellers, five hours ago. And while it was possible, given his comments the previous evening, that he might have been indulging in some sort of makeshift, last-minute stag afternoon, the people he should be doing it with were all here.
Anxiously, she rifled through his suitcase, desperately looking for his passport, and when she couldn’t find it she tried his jacket pocket, her handbag and even under his side of the bed, but there was no sign. Surely it wasn’t possible that he’d done a runner? The Jed she knew would never do something like that to her. Then again, the Jed she knew had been having to make a lot of changes recently, so maybe this was his way of saying she’d gone too far.
Her insides lurched again and Livia took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Pre-wedding nerves were to be expected, surely? In any case, it never took Jed that long to get ready. No, he was probably in the bar right now, downing a glass of something in preparation for the ceremony, maybe even with Liam, then he’d come up to the room, throw his suit on, and they’d go and do what they had to.
She went to retrieve her outfit from the wardrobe, but as she strode across the room, the discomfort in her stomach turned into a stabbing pain and she collapsed onto the bed; and right then, Livia knew she was in trouble.
‘Patrick!’ she shouted desperately, banging her fist against the wall, though she suspected his repeated cries of ‘yes’ weren’t in response to her. In agony, she reached for her phone again, scrolled through to Liam’s number and texted one word.
Help!
Liam waited for a follow-up text from Livia, assuming she’d been making some kind of joke, but when none came – and he got no reply to his ?? – he put his phone back down on the bedside table and cleared his throat.
‘Babe – I’ve got to go.’
The woman from the gym – Liam couldn’t remember her name, though he wasn’t sure she’d ever told him what it was – emerged from where she’d just been pleasuring him under the sheet, rested her head on his stomach and looked up at him incredulously. ‘Now?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘Sorry. Emergency.’ He held up his phone to indicate he wasn’t making it up, texted a quick on my way in reply, then leapt up out of bed, pulled on his jeans and scouted round for his T-shirt.
‘Who’s Livia?’
‘My sister-in-law. At least she will be in an hour or so. Assuming my brother turns up.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘I, um, don’t know.’
The woman sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. ‘But what about me?’
‘Sorry. Can’t be helped.’
‘Huh!’
‘Babe – don’t be like that.’
‘Don’t babe me!’ She glowered at him, then threw the sheet off and began collecting her gym gear from the various spots around the room they’d been thrown, and as Liam enjoyed the sight of her nakedness, he mouthed a silent curse at Livia. It was almost as if she’d known he was with someone, just like at the bar earlier.
He walked over to give the woman a kiss but she pushed him away. ‘Well, Mister Big Brother. At least you came first this time,’ she said, angrily pulling her clothes back on as he followed her out through the door.
As the woman stalked off along the corridor, he made for the stairwell and rushed up to Livia’s floor, only to sprint back down to reception again to double-check her room number before taking the stairs a third time. By the time he knocked on her door and a pale-faced Livia let him in, his heart was racing, as much due to the effort as his apprehension at what he was about to find.
‘You took your time,’ she gasped.
‘I was . . .’ Liam stopped talking. He couldn’t see how any explanation from him would help the situation. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Do I look okay?’
‘Well, no, since you—’ Livia winced, and she was clutching her belly, and Liam realised it was probably the obvious question given her pregnancy but he couldn’t help himself. ‘Where does it hurt?’
‘My stomach.’
‘What about it?’
‘It hurts, Liam.’
‘Oh. Right.’ He led Livia to the bed and helped her lie down. ‘Is it . . . the baby?’
‘I don’t know. I just . . . Ouch!’
Livia’s features were contracted in pain, and Liam stood there, dumbfounded. ‘What should I do?’ he said, anxiously.
‘I don’t know. Maybe it’ll pass, and—’ Livia gasped again. ‘Actually, perhaps you should see if you can find a doctor.’
‘Shall I get Jed?’
‘Unless he’s been off taking a crash course in medicine this afternoon, then . . . Ow!’
‘Okay. Fair point. An actual doctor. Right. So . . .’
‘Hurry up, Liam! Please!’
‘Oh. Sure. Sorry.’ Liam ran for the door, stopping only to retrieve Livia’s mobile from the bedside table. ‘Here,’ he said, pressing it into her hand. ‘Just in case. It’ll be fine. Just keep breathing.’
‘As opposed to?’
Liam forced a smile. Livia being jokey even in this kind of situation was a good sign, surely? ‘Fair point,’ he said.
He hurried out of the room, ran along the corridor and punched the lift bu
tton. When the doors didn’t open immediately, he took the stairs two at a time then sprinted through reception, elbowing a checking-in couple out of the way. As the receptionist gave him a look, he waved a hand in the air, as if trying to erase his rudeness.
‘I need a doctor,’ he said, breathlessly.
‘A doctor?’
Liam nodded frantically, then it occurred to him the receptionist might not have understood him. ‘Er . . . uno . . . doctoro?’
‘What is wrong with you?’
‘Not me,’ said Liam, though in truth he’d been wondering that since he got here. ‘It’s Livia. My friend. She’s having a baby.’
‘Now?’
‘No. Well, I don’t think so. But she is pregnant, and she’s having some stomach problems, so . . .’
‘I’m a doctor,’ said a female voice behind him, and Liam whirled round to see the woman from the couple he’d just barged past smiling sympathetically. ‘Where is she?’
‘In her room. Upstairs.’
‘303,’ said the receptionist, helpfully, and Liam nodded in agreement.
‘This way . . .’
He led the woman towards the lift, almost knocking over a just-returned Jed in his haste to get there. ‘Bro! Where have you been?’
‘Out and about,’ said Jed, then his face darkened as he noticed the woman standing next to his brother. ‘Where are you going in such a hurry?’
‘Upstairs . . .’ panted Liam. ‘We’re—’
‘Christ, Liam, is sex all you think about?’
Liam stared back at him for a moment, then grabbed his brother by the shoulders. ‘No! Well, mostly. But not right now. It’s Livia. She . . .’
‘She what?’
‘The baby. Her stomach . . . She’s having some problems . . . This lady is a doctor and . . .’ The colour had drained from Jed’s face so quickly Liam worried he was about to faint. ‘Just come on, will you?’ he said, although Jed was already way ahead of him.
As they charged towards the lift, the doors opened and Patrick stepped out, so Liam grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back in.
‘Hey, where’s the party?’ he said.
‘Livia’s room,’ said Liam, jabbing frantically at the button for the third floor.
‘Really?’
‘She’s not well . . .’ said Jed anxiously as they made space for an older Spanish couple and their luggage, though Patrick had to step out again when the ‘overloaded’ alarm sounded.
‘I’ll take the stairs,’ he said. ‘Room?’
Liam opened his mouth to answer, cursing that he’d forgotten so quickly, grateful for Jed’s hurried ‘303’ as the doors slid shut.
The group stood awkwardly in the lift as it began its slow ascent, Jed tapping his foot nervously, Liam at a loss as to what to say, hoping Livia would be okay and that he hadn’t taken too long. But he’d managed to find a doctor. And an English one at that. Which had to count for something.
He glanced nervously at Jed, willing the lift to hurry up, wincing at both the anxious ‘Come on’ his brother kept repeating through gritted teeth and the tinny rendition of some Spanish pop song playing from the loudspeaker in the ceiling – the joyful tone couldn’t have been more inappropriate. Once the doors finally opened, the three of them ran along the corridor, Jed dropping his key card in his haste to get inside his room, though Liam couldn’t blame him – his hands were shaking almost as much. By the time Jed eventually got the door open, Liam was almost dreading what might be awaiting them.
‘Liv!’ Jed had rushed into the room first, and was already kneeling next to the bed by the time Liam and the doctor caught him up. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know!’ Livia said, her eyes red-rimmed. ‘My stomach. It’s cramping, and feels like it’s going to explode, and . . .’
‘Let me take a look.’ The doctor had reached the bedside. ‘Hello, Livia. My name’s Erica. I’m a doctor. Now, how pregnant are you?’
Livia grimaced up at her. ‘Surely that’s—’ She gritted her teeth as another wave of discomfort passed over her. ‘. . . a binary question?’
‘How many months.’
‘Oh. Sorry. S-ow!-ix.’
Livia had grabbed Jed’s hand, and was squeezing it tightly. By the pained look on his face, very tightly, so Liam took a step back out of reach, just in case.
‘Jed,’ she said simply, and he patted the back of her hand reassuringly.
‘Don’t worry, Liv. I’m here.’
‘N-ow!’ said Livia, her accusation morphing into a yelp of pain, then she followed it with what even to Liam’s untrained eye was obviously a look of love, and he swallowed hard, feeling like an intruder. He wanted to be here for them, but this was Livia and Jed’s time, and while he knew it was silly, he was suddenly jealous of the bond they shared. Why hadn’t he ever been with someone who’d looked at him like that? Someone who needed him like Livia seemed to need Jed?
‘It’ll be okay,’ said Jed, though Livia didn’t answer. Instead she seemed to be whispering something to herself, and when Liam could make it out, it was ‘Don’t let me lose this baby’ on repeat.
‘Okay. I’m just going to examine you,’ said Erica. ‘Anyone who’s not the father might not want to be here.’
‘No, that’s okay,’ wheezed Livia. ‘Liam’s family. At least, he will be in an hour or so.’
Jed’s eyes flicked across to Patrick, who’d just burst in through the door, a little out of breath after three flights of stairs. ‘As is this one,’ he said.
‘Okay.’ The doctor lifted Livia’s top up to expose her belly, provoking a whispered ‘Jesus Christ!’ from Liam and a subsequent glare at him from everyone else in the room, then she rested a hand on the top of Livia’s bump and pressed gently. ‘Does it hurt here?’
‘No.’
‘Here?’ the doctor said, moving her hand down slightly.
‘Not really.’
‘How about here?’ she asked, her fingers pressing just above Livia’s bikini line, and Livia gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘That’s it.’
‘Tell me something,’ said the doctor. ‘Have you been eating anything particularly spicy?’
‘Why?’ said Livia, a horrified look on her face.
Liam grimaced. ‘She’s not having the baby now, is she, doc? Only I was reading up on this stuff when Jed told me Liv had got up the duff . . .’
‘You read up on this?’ said Jed, incredulously.
‘Yeah. You surprised?’
‘That you can read.’
Liam glared at his brother. ‘Anyway, I heard that pregnant women can eat spicy curries to help, you know . . .’
‘Induce the baby?’ The doctor laughed. ‘That’s an old wives’ tale.’
‘Yeah, but Livia’s going to be quite an old w— Oof!’ He’d said it to try to lighten the mood, but a swift dig in the side from Patrick told him it perhaps wasn’t the most appropriate time to be joking.
The doctor was shaking her head. ‘Well, it’s not true. Otherwise spicy food would be on the “avoid during mid-pregnancy” list along with alcohol and smoking.’
‘Right,’ said Liam, though he decided to keep his other observation – that sex, too, was supposed to help things along – to himself. It was something he’d remembered mid-shag with a pregnant woman he’d met in a club a year or so ago (and suspected it was why she’d asked him home with her) – though his subsequent fear that the baby was going to make an appearance there and then meant he couldn’t, in his words, ‘finish the job’.
‘So, have you?’ repeated the doctor, and Jed nodded.
‘There were those patatas bravas last night.’
‘Okay.’ The doctor stood up, and addressed Liam and Patrick. ‘You two might not want to stick around for what’s about to happen.’
‘Why?’ said Jed, anxiously. ‘What’s about to happen?’
‘You too,’ she said.
‘I’m not leaving.’ Jed took Livia’s hand again. ‘For better, for w
orse, right, Liv?’
Livia looked up at him, a gratitude in her eyes that almost made Liam burst into tears. ‘For better, for worse.’
‘I’m not going anywhere either,’ said Liam, defiantly.
Patrick looked at the three of them, then he glanced at the doctor. ‘Actually, I might just, you know . . .’ He nodded at Jed. ‘Just outside if you need me,’ he said, before disappearing hastily through the door.
‘Okay.’ The doctor turned to Liam. ‘Could you just open the window?’
‘Um . . . sure,’ said Liam, hesitantly. Livia was looking scared, and Liam wasn’t feeling too confident himself. And what was all this open window stuff? Did they need more space? Though they were on the third floor, so surely that was just adding to the danger? Still, he’d done a decent turn in goal at some charity five-a-side thing recently, so if the baby did come, and quickly, he’d be there, poised, like the best Premiership keeper, to prevent it flying out into the street.
‘Okay, Livia. This might be a little uncomfortable.’ The doctor placed both hands on Livia’s lower stomach and smiled reassuringly. ‘Now, just relax.’
‘Easier said than done.’
‘You’ll be fine. The baby’s fine too. But I’m going to count to three, then I’m going to need you to push for me.’
‘To push?’ said Jed. ‘The baby’s coming now?’
‘I hope not!’ The doctor smiled again. ‘Ready? Like you’re going to do a number two. Right. One . . .’
‘I’m scared, Jed.’
‘Two . . .’
‘Okay . . .’
‘Three!’
As Livia began pushing, the doctor began applying a gentle pressure to her stomach.
‘It hurts!’
‘Just a little more . . .’
Livia’s face was contorted in agony, Jed had turned white and Liam was beginning to wish he’d followed Patrick outside. But he had to be strong. Be the best man. This was his test. The sign that he had, in fact, grown up. Forget celebrity, forget being on television, this was what it was all about. What life was all about. Being there for the people you loved. When it counted.
