39 Weeks

by Terri Douglas

  ‘Mm think so, he hasn’t said it but I mean we’ve been seeing each other nearly every night, and when we don’t he phones, and he’s just so . . .’

  ‘Yep, sounds like you’ve got the bug alright.’

  ‘Oh Judy.’ She sighed.

  ‘That’s great.’ I said hoping my lack of enthusiasm wasn’t too obvious. My mind wandered to the taboo subject of Rob, and lingered there for a while before I had command of it and forced him back into the nether regions of my head where he was supposed to be staying.

  Then another thought occurred to me. What if Shelley had told Nick about me and my being pregnant. Nick would tell Rob wouldn’t he? It was totally irrational of course but I couldn’t bear the thought that Rob would know. I mean I was never going to see him again anyway so what did it really matter, but I hated the idea that he would think what a lucky escape he’d had, I wanted him to remember me with regret, and maybe a bit of longing in there as well.

  ‘Have you told . . him . . about . . I mean have you talked about . .’ I lingered over the question hesitantly.

  ‘Told him about what?’

  ‘About me . . being pregnant.’

  ‘Well he did wonder why we’d left so early that night at Zee Zee’s.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I had to say something.’

  ‘So you told him.’ I said aghast.

  ‘Well yeah. It doesn’t matter does it, I mean he doesn’t exactly know you does he, it’s not like he’s going to tell . . any . . one.’ Shelley said finally jumping on the same train of thought I was on. ‘You didn’t want Rob to know did you? Sorry Judy, I just didn’t think. Are you mad at me?’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose it matters. Not really.’

  ‘No not really. Sorry though. But what do you think, about Nick and me?’

  ‘Yeah it’s great, let’s hope he doesn’t mess it up.’ I said still deflated.

  ‘I’ve got a feeling that . . . no I won’t say it I don’t want to jinx it.’

  ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. Look Shell I better go, I’m on my lunch hour and I haven’t eaten yet.’

  ‘Okay, well we’ll meet up soon, I could come to yours or you could come to mine, either is fine.’

  ‘Yeah I’ll call you.’

  ‘Okay, sorry again about the telling Nick thing. See you soon, bye.’

  I hung up and lingered in the car park, too ticked off to go back into work, or to get some lunch, I couldn’t face eating after the morning I’d had. I knew I’d pay for it later, because if I didn’t eat properly now I’d be hungry by the time I left work tonight, and then I’d be back on the spewing time-table again. But after the emotional roller coaster of prenatal checkups, and new offices, and now Rob, my Rob as I was coming to think of him . . deluded or what, finding out I was pregnant, I just couldn’t face the thought of food.

  I wandered back inside deciding on a cup of tea to tide me over. On my way past reception I saw the builders working on the partitions for the new downstairs sales office. Well when I say working I use the term loosely, two of them were watching a third who was deep in thought about what nail to use or something of the sort. It was pretty much your atypical British workmen, or should that be non-workmen.

  As my foot hit the bottom step to go upstairs I heard a vaguely familiar voice that stopped me in my tracks. ‘It was a tragedy, anyone could have scored from there.’ The voice was saying.

  ‘Yeah but two nil.’ An unfamiliar voice answered.

  ‘They should have sold off Peterson when they had the chance, he’s rubbish. My kid sister could play better than him.’ The familiar voice said knowledgably.

  I had to see if the voice belonged to the person I thought it did. Very slowly I back tracked to reception and lingered at the pigeon holes where Jackie sorted the post each morning, surreptitiously watching the builders who all had their backs to me. Eventually the owner of the familiar voice turned round. As I’d feared it was Matt the twonk.

  Oh crap. Double damm and crap. Why? Of all the people I least wanted to see at this moment, or even ever, he was definitely top of my list. I backed further into the corner intently studying a letter in the finance pigeon hole, trying to look as if I hadn’t noticed any building work going on at all.

  Lost in my horror-struck reverie as I was, I missed the threesome down tools and walk past me on their way out, still animatedly dissecting some recent football match and totally oblivious to me. I watched them as they walked away from the building. Matt looked the same as I remembered. Still good looking in an obvious sort of way, still giving it large although of course this time it wasn’t for my benefit, and still a complete twonk.

  Whatever had I been thinking that night, that long ago night when all that was on my mind was ‘why the hell not’. I could give you several hundred reasons now why the hell not, but at the time it didn’t seem like such a big deal. Huh, how wrong can you be, it was definitely a big deal now alright.

  So should I acknowledge that I knew him, talk to him? Or even more scary thought actually tell him? A definite NO screamed its way through my head to the telling him part, but should I even talk to him? A more quiet no whispered to me as I shied away from the idea. But what if he recognised me? I quickly decided that the chances of him recognising me where slim to none, him being such a rat-bag and all by nature, and the whole affair if you could call it that, happening so many weeks ago and given his penchant for seeing a different girl every night as I was pretty sure was the case, he was hardly likely to remember any of them except maybe last nights, or maybe not even then, so he probably wouldn’t remember me.

  ‘You alright Judy?’ Jackie said coming back from a quick visit to the loo to her usual post behind the reception desk and finding me hiding in the corner.

  ‘What? . . . Oh yes I’m fine, just looking for an invoice Carters said they faxed over.’ I burbled, saying the first thing that came into my head.

  ‘I’ll keep an eye out for it,’ Jackie said eying me suspiciously.

  I ignored her scepticism and went back upstairs. The afternoon dragged on, I didn’t work but then no-one did much, what with all the building work going on. Then as if I didn’t have enough problems at the moment Gill decided to linger at my desk on route to the kitchen to update me on her and new hubby’s house hunting.

  ‘We think we might have found the perfect house, we saw it on Saturday and it seemed just perfect, we would have put an offer in there and then but you can’t let them know you’re too keen can you, I mean they’re more likely to drop the price if they think you’re not bothered. It’s four bedrooms and the kitchen’s massive. Maybe we’ll get an Arga that would really be something, I mean it would easily fit and there’s something about having a country house, you have to have an Arga in the kitchen don’t you, it all sort of goes together doesn’t it?’

  She waffled on about the views, and the size of the garden and many other, to my mind, totally forgettable features that she suddenly couldn’t live without, while I just nodded and ooh’d and aah’d in what I hoped were all the right places, all the time wanting to scream at her ‘I don’t care’, but of course I didn’t. Eventually she ran out of things to say about the ‘dream’ house and went to get her coffee.

  I tried for the rest of the afternoon to keep a low profile, I just couldn’t be bothered talking to anyone. I avoided going downstairs to the loo just in case I ran into the twonk, and kept my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t come upstairs, which thankfully he didn’t. By five o’clock I was emotionally exhausted and dying to pee. Thank God that by the time I left the building the builders had long gone and I could escape as it were undetected.

  11

  1st September – Week 13 + 4 Days

  This morning I’m due at the hospital for the scan appointment. I’d read up on it in my baby bibles, and between them and the information in the letter from the hospital telling me when my appointment was, I was as prepared as I was ever going to be.

 
; Shelley had offered to come with me and metaphorically hold my hand, for which I was ridiculously grateful, as the alternative was either going on my own, or with my know-it-all mother who wouldn’t be able to contain herself and would probably bombard me with questions about Rob that I wasn’t in the least prepared to answer. She wasn’t due for the next state visit for another two weeks so that gave me a fortnight to come up with some genius plan to get Rob out of the picture I’d painted for her. So far the only not so genius thing I’d come up with, when we’d spoken on the phone, was that he wasn’t back yet, thereby neatly putting off having to embellish any further.

  All the information I’d garnered about the scan had said it was better if I had a full bladder, apparently they got a better picture that way, which ludicrously made me think of it like a holiday snap, you know like someone asking where the baby had spent the summer and the answer would be ‘I stayed in Womb for my hols’. Anyway, I’d peed first thing this morning but had stoically resisted all subsequent calls of nature, with the result that by the time I left for the hospital I was already busting for the loo.

  It was another morning off work, which they weren’t too happy about, as I’d already had a morning off to go and see the doctor the first time, the same day I’d espied Matt the twonk, and then I’d had to leave work early the following Tuesday for my first prenatal, so one way or another they were fairly hacked off about the amount of time I was spending having medical appointments. Grahame had even asked me if everything was alright, but I’d stonewalled him by vaguely mentioning something about women’s problems, to which being typically male he’d backed off straight away and didn’t ask me anything else. Sometimes the whole male uselessness, ignorance, and lack of empathy can so work in your favour can’t it?

  The prenatal was a breeze, the usual bit of hanging around that anything National Health related invariably involves, and being in such close proximity to so many other pregnant women at various stages of their pregnancy while we all waited our turn was a bit of an eye opener and gave me a more realistic clue as to what I might expect in the next few months, but the actual check up was easy, no pain involved at all, they just weighed me, took my blood pressure and asked me a few questions. Only one fly in the ointment, on that day anyway, and that was the urine sample I had to take with me.

  Sounds so simple doesn’t it when the doctor says ‘bring a urine sample’, the reality however is not so simple. A major problem for me was what to put it in and how big that receptacle might have to be, I mean how much pee do they need, a drop or a litre? I had no idea. I decided too much was better than too little, but what to put it in was the question? After much deliberation and kitchen cupboard searching, I came up with an almost used up ketchup bottle, having rejected a jam jar as not being leak-proof, and a mustard jar that had been stuck at the back of the cupboard unused since I’d moved in, for the same reason. I rinsed out the ketchup bottle, not without difficulty, then filled it with water and laid it on its side on a sheet of kitchen roll to test its leak-proofness. It wasn’t a total success but it would have to do I decided.

  The next problem was how to actually get the pee in the bottle. I had a vision of trying to pee in the very narrow neck of the bottle but that obviously was never going to work. In the end I used a jug and poured the contents in to the narrow necked bottle afterwards. The only problem I had after that was carrying the damm thing around with me all morning, secretly stashed in the corner of my largest handbag, and making sure it didn’t tip over. When I finally got to hand over my specimen the nurse laughed and gave me a couple of small neat little screw top plastic bottles that apparently I should have been given by the doctor, but he’d forgotten, and she told me to use them in future as they only needed a small amount of urine to do the test. Anyway it all went ok and evidently everything was normal. Huh normal for them maybe I thought but decidedly un-normal for me.

  The plan this morning was to pick Shelley up on the way to the hospital, so I drove over to hers trying not to think about how much I needed the loo and she was ready and waiting when I got there. She jumped in the car straight away, and we pulled off without delay.

  ‘You ok? You look like you’re in pain.’

  I explained briefly about the full bladder thing, which she thought was highly amusing and started laughing at my discomfort.

  ‘Don’t laugh or you’ll start me off, and I really can’t afford to be laughing at anything right at this moment, the consequences would not be good. So how’s it going with Nick?’ I asked hoping to divert the conversation away from any peeing related topics.

  ‘Ask me that question tomorrow.’ She said without explanation.

  ‘O . . kay.’ I said intrigued ‘Why, what’s happening tomorrow?’

  ‘Not sure exactly, but tonight Nick’s taking me to that new Italian place over on Frith Street, Giorgio’s.’

  ‘And?’ I queried not having any clue as to what new Italian place she was talking about. I was so out of touch you just wouldn’t believe, but I didn’t ask as that wasn’t exactly the hot issue right now.

  ‘Well it’s quite posh by all accounts, and expensive, we’re talking twenty quid for a starter so God knows how much the actual meal is going to cost, and he said to dress up a bit because there’s something important he wants to talk to me about. He wouldn’t say what, and thinks he’s being quite mysterious about it, but it can only mean one thing can’t it?’

  ‘Oh my God, you think he’s going to propose?’

  ‘Well what else can it be, posh restaurant, dress up, something important he wants to talk about? I can’t think what else it could be?’

  ‘Bloody hell. What are you going to say, yes or no?’

  ‘Well yes of course.’ She said derisively as if there couldn’t possibly be any other answer.

  ‘But you’ve only known each other a few weeks, are you sure about this Shell?’

  ‘Yeah I’m sure, I suppose it has all been a bit quick but it’s been long enough to know that he’s the one I want, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same way, otherwise why the important talk tonight?’

  I didn’t know what I thought about that, I was pleased for Shelley of course, and truth to tell if you must know ever so slightly jealous. I just hoped she was reading the signs right, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d got her wires crossed and she’d be gutted if all he asked her was if she’d go and see Man U play a game of football or something, especially after all this build up.

  ‘So how have you been?’ She asked changing the subject as we pulled into the hospital car park.

  ‘Ok . . . you know. Same stuff, different day.’ I said flippantly.

  We parked the car and I coughed up a fiver for the privilege, then we walked the mile and a half from the car park to the main entrance. Why they couldn’t have organised it so the car park was at least within staggering distance of the hospital I’ll never understand, I mean what if you’re ill, or old, or what if it’s raining.

  We found out from one of the receptionists at the huge desk in the entrance, another graduate from the National Health school of charm, that we’d need to go virtually to the other side of the building. Down the main corridor, first left, through the double doors, left again, up in the lift to the first floor, then another corridor and the waiting area should be at the far end on the right, just follow the blue lines on the floor, she’d said. Do you suppose that the entire area, maybe the whole floor who knows, was completely deserted if it was anywhere near the main entrance of the hospital, I mean when was the last time you went to a hospital for any reason whatsoever and the ward or department you were looking for was right there just twenty feet away. Wherever it is you need to get to it always seems to involve a twenty to thirty minute walk round all the corridors to get there doesn’t it?

  We looked down at our feet and there was a whole rainbow of coloured lines painted on the floor. Do you suppose one man painted them all, it must have taken him ages, painting round all the corridors
and up flights of stairs and everything, one colour at a time. Or maybe there was a gang of blokes, ‘line painters’, that had a different colour each. Anyway we dutifully followed our blue line, with Shelley singing follow the yellow brick road in a voice that sounded as if she been sucking helium out of a balloon, until we got to the lifts where the blue line promptly ran out, evidently our blue line painter had got fed up at this point and had bunked off for a tea break.

  When we came out of the lift there was no hint of a blue line anywhere, and the few signs that were on the wall were in some medical jargonise that neither of us spoke, so were completely useless to us. If we could have just found one that said simply ‘scans this way’ that might have been handy, but hey this was bureaucracy at its most potent and where better for it than in a hospital presumably full of people in real need of a bit of help and guidance. Luckily Shelley spotted a very pregnant woman just as she turned the corner so we followed her.

  Of course when we rounded the corner ourselves the waiting area was full of pregnant woman, some who looked about to go into labour at any moment and some annoyingly as slim as could be with barely a hint of a bump. I myself by this stage was looking decidedly rounded, not pregnant exactly, but definitely not the sadly missed svelte self that I used to be, and they all looked thoroughly fed up and tired.

  I was surprised to see quite so many women waiting. I’d thought an appointment at nine twenty would mean I’d actually see someone at nine twenty, or nine thirty at the latest, but it turned out everyone’s appointment was for nine twenty and it was first come first served. I never learn. We settled in for as long as it was going to take before our turn and I made a mental note, as my baby bible had informed me I was due for another one of these things at twenty weeks, to get here half an hour early next time.

  We chatted while we waited, trying desperately to take my mind off needing the loo, and I told Shelley about Matt the twonk being one of the builders at work. She was predictably gob-smacked and stared at me open mouthed and with a worried look in her eyes.