39 Weeks

by Terri Douglas

  ‘I never thought anything.’ Tricia said.

  ‘No well that’s because you don’t think most of the time anyway.’ Short Fran chipped in. ‘And you were all zoned out in Daniel obsessed mode that night.’

  ‘How’s it going this time round with Daniel anyway?’ Shelley said.

  ‘I forgot about that, are you going back out with him again?’ I said

  ‘Yes it’s all back on again.’ Short Fran answered for Tricia. Tricia just sat there looking smug.

  ‘And how is it going?’ I asked.

  ‘Well I’m not supposed to be saying anything to anyone about it yet, but actually we’re . . . well we’re going to look at rings tomorrow.’

  ‘No way.’ Mel said. ‘Isn’t this the bloke that was so selfish and drove you so mad you dumped him?’

  ‘Yeah, and the one she caught out seeing someone else.’ Shelley added.

  ‘And the one who had that bimbo slobbering all over him that night at Zee Zee’s when she got back with him.’ Short Fran said.

  ‘And now you’re getting engaged to him?’ an amazed Dianne said.

  ‘Look I know he has this reputation for being a bit of scumbag but . . .’ Tricia started to say.

  ‘Yeah there’s a reason for that.’ Short Fran interrupted, but Tricia just glared at her before continuing.

  ‘But, he’s changed, us splitting up and everything well it made him think, and he said he really missed me, and . . he loves me . . . and he wants to prove it by getting engaged.’

  ‘Well it’s your funeral. Once a scumbag always a scumbag I say.’ Short Fran said acerbically. ‘I give it a couple of months at the most before he’s up to his old tricks again.’

  ‘No I think he really has changed.’ Tricia said.

  Really changed! Oh please, give me a break. Short Fran was right, once a scumbag always a scumbag. I mean, a lying arse is a lying arse and will always be a lying arse. I knew Tricia knew that, all women know that, deep down. But she loved him and had fooled herself into thinking he meant it when he said he’d changed and that he loved her. I couldn’t really blame her, I mean we’ve all done it at some time or another haven’t we? We’ve all gone along with the crap blokes tells us because we want to believe they’re being sincere.

  ‘Well just don’t rush into anything.’ I said, diplomatically avoiding what I was really thinking.

  The others polished off their second bottle of wine, I’d stuck with my glass of low alcohol, and ordered another. The conversation veered away from Tricia’s dodgy taste in men, thank goodness, and on to more general safer topics like Helen’s new shoes that she’d got in the sale for thirty quid, and short Fran and tall Fran’s near miss last Saturday night when some idiot got caught trying to spike their drinks, and Shelley’s immanent shacking up with Nick, which reminded me I hadn’t yet told everyone about my own move.

  ‘Hey I forgot to tell you all I’m moving soon myself.’ I announced to the table in general.

  ‘You found somewhere?’ Shelley asked. ‘I was going to suggest going to see Nick’s flat this weekend.’

  ‘Yeah, remember I told you about Gill at work moving to Gloucestershire and boring me to death with all the des res details, well I’m moving to her old flat on Kingsley Road.’

  ‘What’s it like?’ Tricia said finally getting over her sulk because we didn’t think much on her choice of fiancée.

  ‘Well it’s got two bedrooms for a start. The kitchens not a bad size, and the living rooms huge.’

  ‘Upstairs or downstairs?’ Short Fran said.

  ‘Upstairs.’

  ‘Won’t that be a bit difficult with a baby, I mean how’re you going to manage with pushchairs and things?’ Shelley said before short Fran got a chance to.

  ‘Oh.’ I uttered.

  I hadn’t thought of that, how was I going to manage? ‘But it’s really nice and the rent’s only thirty quid a month more than I’m paying now and . . I’ll manage, I mean the pushchair thing’s only for a few months, I’ll manage somehow.’ I said.

  ‘The pushchair thing is for about two years give or take.’ Short Fran said knowledgeably, although how or why she knew so much about it I had no idea.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Maybe you should think about it and look for a ground floor place.’ Di said.

  ‘Too late, I’ve already signed the lease for a year.’

  This time it was everyone else’s turn to utter a deflated ‘oh’ on my behalf and lapse into silence.

  Shelley broke the un-cheerful gloom saying ‘Well it’s not brilliant but you’re probably right, you’ll manage somehow. Maybe there’s somewhere in the hall downstairs or something where you can leave a pushchair.’

  ‘Yeah maybe.’ I said unconvinced, but hoping she was right.

  No one wanted a sweet, well I did actually but if no one else was having one I didn’t want to be the only one pigging out on afters, they were all keen to move on somewhere a bit more lively. It was rare nowadays that all eight of us were out together and we all felt we should make the most of it. I mean Tricia was getting engaged, Shelley was moving in with Nick, Di had been with the same bloke since they’d left school so it was only a matter of time before they got married, and I was pregnant. Who knew when we’d get another chance to all be together like this again, if ever. In honour of this we all agreed we should go to The Purple Palace one more time.

  None of us had been there for years. It was one of those places that you go when you’re theoretically sixteen or should that be legally sixteen, but in reality are only fourteen going on fifteen and can pass with a lot of makeup and the right dress. It was the place we’d all gone to week after week when we’d still been at school, and where some of us had met each other and we’d bonded as a group and had been friends ever since.

  We all left the restaurant in our separate cars and met up again outside the Palace. Something about being back on our old stomping ground turned us all back into the giggling teenage girls we used to be, and we larked about cracking risqué jokes and pushing each other a lot as we queued to pay on the way in just as we’d done nearly fifteen years ago.

  Once we were inside our mood sobered up instantly. Oh my God this place was dire. I don’t remember it being like this at all. In my head it was this vast place all lush and ritzy with a sort film-set quality to it, everyone dressed up to the nines and exchanging witty banter, interspersed with gorgeous boys, some more gorgeous than others, trying to impress us girls with all their macho charm and pulling powers. The reality from my now twenty eight year old perspective was somewhat different.

  For a start I was surprised at how small the place had become, and it was really shabby, had it always been this rough? And everyone was so young, I felt like the teacher in a playground full of secondary school kids. And I was definitely overdressed, all the kids, well the girls anyway, seemed to have turned up in what might as well have been their underwear. We got a few funny looks, like ‘what the hell are you lot of has-beens doing here?’ hardly surprising really as I was wondering just that myself, and when I managed to stop staring long enough to check with the others, they looked like they were all thinking along the same lines as I was.

  ‘Let’s get out of here.’ Short Fran shouted to the rest of us trying to make herself heard over the ear-splitting cacophony that passed as music.

  ‘One dance,’ Shelley shouted back. ‘We gotta have one dance just for old time’s sake.’

  ‘No we don’t,’ short Fran said, but she was talking to herself as the rest of us had already moved onto the dance floor.

  It was weird dancing all together again, in what we’d thought of fondly as our place for so long. Of course it had never been our place like we’d discovered it or invented it or something, but still it did sort of feel like that. We ignored the hostile staring from our juvenile current day counterparts, and for about five minutes anyway, were lost in the reverie of our uncomplicated youth.

  We left after our one dance and walk
ed the half a mile up the road to Chicago’s where we all felt more comfortable and could laugh at how dilapidated and dreadful The Purple Palace really was, reminiscing about some of the good times we’d had there, dreadful or not.

  We couldn’t get a table at Chicago’s so we just took up a lot of space at the bar. The evening had been great, it was so good seeing everyone again and laughing and joking around the way we always did when we all got together that I didn’t want it to end, but I was tired, like really tired. I’d got so used to staying in and having early nights all this socialising, especially after the long week I’d had, was taking its toll. So when about an hour later Mel suggested we go on somewhere I said I’d have to duck out.

  Shelley, despite her protests to the contrary earlier about being okay with not seeing Nick, had phoned him twice already, and he’d phoned her at least three times just to make sure she was alright she said, they’d really got it bad those two. And now presumably not being able to stand another minute apart, they’d arranged for Nick and his all male party to meet our all girl party at Chicago’s before going on to wherever it was they were all going to go on to, together. When I heard this I decided I was definitely ducking out, and longed wistfully for my cosy bed at home. The girls made a few token protests about my going but I really wasn’t up for it. So I said my goodbyes, promising to keep in touch with everyone, and left.

  I had to walk all the way back to the Palace to pick up my car that was parked in the car park across the road, and tired as I was didn’t notice the petrol gauge hovering over empty. I made it to the car park entrance before the damm thing died on me. I tried again and again to get the stupid thing to start again, but of course it wouldn’t, and soon there were a couple of cars behind me trying to get out but I was blocking their way. So they just sat in their cars bibbing because of course that always makes other cars miraculously go when they’ve run out of petrol, doesn’t it?

  I tried to smile and mouthing sorry lifted my hands and shook my head hoping someone would get the message that there was nothing I could do, and that I could do with a bit of help to at least push the car out of the way if nothing else. Finally someone got out of one of the bibbing cars and started walking towards me. Thank God, I thought. Then changed that abruptly to ‘oh shit’. It was Matt.

  ‘Hi, having a spot of car trouble? Seems to be my week for rescuing people from breakdowns.’

  It wasn’t Matt it was James. Oh thank you God. Thank you, thank you, thank you. ‘I think it’s just run out of petrol, but if you could just help me push it out of the way . . .’

  ‘No problem.’ James laughed.

  He pushed and I steered, and thankfully everyone stopped bibbing. Then James ran back to his car to move that out of the way as well, then sauntered back to mine.

  ‘So how will you get home?’ he said leaning in through the window.

  ‘I’ll get a cab, and come back tomorrow for the car.’

  ‘Forget that, I’ll give you a lift.’

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t . . . I mean . . thank you so much for helping, but I couldn’t expect . . .’

  ‘Hey what are friends for. Come on.’ He said opening the door so I really had no choice. And what was with the friends comment I’d only met him once for about thirty seconds, but I just smiled and went along with it.

  Of course as soon as I got out of my car he spotted the maternity tee shirt announcing to the world in general I wasn’t fat I was pregnant, but he didn’t say anything, just smiled and took my arm as if I was geriatric or something, and walked me back to where his own car was parked. We got in and I told him where I lived.

  On the way home he asked me when the baby was due so I told him. Then he asked why I was out on my own and running out of petrol in my condition. In my condition! I didn’t have a condition, well I suppose technically I did, but I didn’t like it being referred to like that, it made it sound like I had some sort of deadly disease or something.

  I explained about my coming out party, and how I’d ducked out of going on somewhere else.

  ‘And what’s with the getting a cab, where’s hubby while you’re stranded in the middle of town on a Friday night?’

  ‘There’s no hubby.’ I said matter of factly, thinking to myself boy this guy is nosey.

  ‘No hubby eh.’

  ‘No just me . . and the bump.’

  ‘So where do you know Matt from?’

  Jeez did his interrogation never stop. ‘Um I don’t know him really, he’s been helping to build the new offices at Fishers and . .’

  ‘And he thought he’d chance his arm.’ He finished for me.

  ‘Yeah something like that.’

  ‘Mmm sounds like Matt.’

  We pulled up outside my flat and I thanked him again for rescuing me. ‘Tell you what’ he said as I was climbing out. ‘Why don’t I drop by in the morning, give you a lift to town so you can get your car. I’ll even bring a can of petrol.’

  ‘Oh . . um no, thanks for the offer but I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Fine? You’ll need to get to a garage, get some petrol and carry it to where your car is parked. Fine? I don’t think so. Don’t argue just be ready about ten. Okay?’

  ‘No really I . .’

  ‘OKAY?’

  ‘Oh alright then, if you put it like that. Thanks.’

  ‘Okay I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

  I went indoors torn between indignation at being bossed about so forcibly, and gratitude that James had been there to help and was going to help me again in the morning.

  14

  10th September – Week 14 + 6 Days

  The next morning I woke to the sound of someone hammering on my door interspersed with ringing the bell. I virtually fell out of bed, still half asleep, and staggered to the door. The twonk was standing on the doorstep. As my jaw dropped I wondered briefly if I was still in bed having a really bad dream. But of course it wasn’t the twonk it was James. It was scarily spooky how alike they were, to look at anyway.

  ‘Hey sleepy head it’s quarter past ten, did you forget I was coming?’ James said laughing, no doubt at my mismatched pyjama’s and bed hair.

  ‘Sorry I was out for the count. You better come in while I throw on some clothes. I’m really sorry I meant to be up and ready, especially as you’ve put yourself out like this and interrupted your Saturday morning for me.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t doing anything special anyway. Take your time, it’s fine.’ He said affably as I stood aside to let him in.

  I took him through the living room to the kitchen, flicked the kettle on, and showed him where the coffee and the cups were. Then leaving him to look after himself I disappeared back to the bedroom to get dressed. After a minute he shouted through to me to see if he should make me a coffee as well, but I shouted back that I’d prefer tea if he didn’t mind. ‘No trouble,’ he said still laughing.

  By the time I got back to the kitchen he was sitting at the table drinking his coffee and flicking through yesterdays paper, looking for all the world as if he dropped in on me like this every day. My tea sat steaming on the other side of the table waiting for me. I grabbed it and took a sip, gagging for a hot drink after my rude awakening. It was a bit too hot though and I burned my mouth, making me jump and that spilled a slurp of the hot tea down me which burned my left boob making me jump even more.

  He watched the whole performance, then shaking his head slightly and smiling at what a klutz I was being, languorously got up and masterfully took the cup out of my hands and placed it back on the table. Then seeing that my injuries were superficial turned me back to the door saying ‘you’d better go and change’.

  I turned a vivid shade of scarlet, I could feel my cheeks actually burning with the embarrassment of it all, and went back to the bedroom to pull off the damp tee shirt which I’d been holding away from my skin and inspected my scalded boob. Course it wasn’t scalded, just a bit pink.

  After pulling on a clean tee shirt I went bac
k to the kitchen again and this time he jumped up and placed me carefully in the roomier of the two seats, put my now slightly cooler tea in front of me, and squeezed himself into the squashed other seat opposite with a barely concealed grin on his face.

  ‘So’ he said laughing. ‘What do you do for an encore?’

  ‘Sorry. I’m not usually this clumsy.’ I said finally seeing the funny side of it and smiling back at him.

  ‘I hope not for your sake . . and the baby’s.’

  I sipped at my tea embarrassment making me look away from him, but I could feel him watching me.

  ‘We should get going,’ I said turning back to him. ‘I don’t want to hold you up.’

  ‘It’s fine, take your time, no rush. So just moving in, or getting ready to move out?’ He asked.

  ‘Um . . oh the boxes,’ I said referring to the three huge boxes lined up in the living room that he’d obviously noticed on the way in. ‘Moving out. I need a bigger place with the baby . . and everything.’ I finished lamely.

  ‘Where you off to?’

  ‘Kingsley road.’

  ‘Oh yes, I know it. Big houses down there.’

  ‘Well it’s only a flat, but it’s two bedrooms and quite a bit bigger than this place.’

  ‘Sounds good. Well if you need any help, you know moving stuff, I could . .’

  ‘Thanks I think I’ve got it covered, but thanks anyway.’

  I didn’t have anything covered, I hadn’t even thought about exactly how I was going to get everything to the new place in two weeks. Two weeks! It was beginning to feel like someone had put my life on fast forward. But somehow I couldn’t ask James, I mean he seemed nice enough but not only did he probably already think I was a walking disaster what with the car running out of petrol, then not being awake when he got here, and then chucking a cup of tea down myself, but he was the twonk’s brother. It was kind of freaky just sitting here with him looking so twonk like, never mind anything else.

  ‘I’ll leave my number, just in case. You never know.’