Did The Earth Move?

by Carmen Reid

  Tom felt he was interrupting but there was something he had to ask his mother: "This isn't exactly the perfect moment,' he said, 'But do you know where Jen is?' Eve saw the anxiety on his face. 'Deepa wants to speak to her because she's feeling really odd and she's starting to worry.'

  'Oh my God!' Eve passed her sleeping toddler to Joseph, jumped up and sped round the tent.

  When Jen and Deepa came back from the toilets, where they had adjourned for a cramped examination, Tom and Eve could tell by the excited, if somewhat surprised, expressions on both faces that something was definitely happening.

  'Yes, it's labour,' Jen told Tom nice and quietly, so the assembled crowds wouldn't all be in on the act. "Three centimetres. Time to get back to London.'

  'But we're only half an hour away from the big send-off,' Deepa protested. 'Can't we just wait for that and then we'll zoom off in our wedding car as planned? We'll just take it straight to the hospital.'

  Jen wasn't so sure. 'Twenty minutes, max,' she compromised. 'And I'll go in the car with you, in case you need a midwife sooner than you think.'

  The couple smiled at this, because it just seemed too ridiculous.

  'Look at me, I'm fine now,' Deepa told her. 'It's not anything more than a stitch every once in a while.'

  'Yeah well . . . things will probably be really slow and steady and nothing will happen for hours, but you never know, your waters might break and it'll be a great big rush.'

  The suggestion of her waters breaking at her wedding seemed to galvanize Deepa. 'OK, everyone into a circle for the send-off.'

  It was the perfect ending. All the guests encircling the couple, clapping and singing to the music as Deepa and Tom went round kissing and hugging everyone in turn and trying not to get too overcome with emotion. It was hopeless by then, Eve just gave in and sobbed horribly loudly, one arm round Janie, one round Denny. Deepa had told her mother and sisters what was happening and gradually word was getting round. The send-off was reaching a hysteria level of excitement and concern.

  'Oh Deepa, take care', 'We love you', 'God bless', was being shouted to them as they climbed into their wedding car – a shiny white chauffeur-driven VW Beetle – and told the alarmed driver of the change of plans.

  'Are you staying on a bit?' Joseph asked Eve as the car moved out of sight, relatives being almost mown down in their final attempts to kiss the bride and wish them the best.

  'No!' Eve told him. 'She's in labour, they're headed for the hospital. They're waiting at the first parking place on the road for me to bring Jen. You know, in case—'

  'Oh my God! Come on, then. Why don't you and Jen get going? I'll follow on with Robbie and Anna. You might need another car... or another person.'

  'Well...' She saw how fired up he was... hard to refuse. 'Well, I need Robbie, I've got the car seat, but why don't you take Anna home and wait for news, OK?' She handed him her house keys.

  The little Peugeot engine hummed and rattled all the way up the M23 to London. She'd lost the Beetle miles back, but she was determined to get to the hospital vigil in time. In fact, she kept checking the hard shoulder, scared that the Beetle would be pulled up there with her first grandchild too well on its way to be stopped. They were with Jen, she reminded herself, they would be fine.

  She looked at her little boy, zonked out in his car seat in the back, and remembered Jen bringing him loud and kicking into the world. She hadn't let Joseph come to the delivery. She'd thought it was too weird, considering they were apart and he was seeing someone else by then. But he had rushed down anyway, to the same hospital Deepa was heading for now. And she had let him see his son when they were both bathed, dressed and ready for visitors.

  He'd held the baby on his lap and stroked the damp silken hair, too moved to say anything.

  The perfect parent? A lousy wife? Dennis's words were still ringing in her ears. They had hurt so much because weren't they, in some ways, true? There was no room in her life for a partner, because she didn't want there to be. She had told herself that she wouldn't have to face the pain of losing another love, if she didn't have one.

  She pushed her foot down harder, hummmmmm, the roads were empty but the car was straining to get past 90. If the police caught her now, they were going to enjoy her explanation.

  By the time she made it to the labour ward waiting room, running down long lino-ed corridors with a still sleeping toddler in her arms, Deepa and Tom were in a delivery room with Jen alongside them.

  'It's going well,' the nurse at reception told her. 'She's having a slow first stage but she's coping very well. There's nothing to do but wait, I'm afraid.'

  Eve was only halfway down her first cup of vile hospital tea when she was astonished to see Joseph approach the reception – Joseph and a very pale Anna, still in pink sari, holding his hand.

  He was trying to explain to the nurse why he was there when Eve went up to greet them.

  'Oh hello.' He was relieved to see her. 'Anna insisted. She just absolutely would not go home when the rest of you were here. And, I... well, I could see her point.'

  'Is the baby here yet?' Anna's obvious excitement was going to keep her awake all night if necessary. It was already 1.30a.m.

  'No. But Deepa's doing fine. You'll just have to come and drink tea with me. If it's OK with Sister Leanne.'

  Sister Leanne said she would prefer it if they all went to the hospital canteen and she would send someone with news straight away.

  A little group of Styrofoam cups had gathered between the four of them... because Robbie was now awake, bright-eyed, wanting to play, before the news finally came just before 4a.m.

  Jen appeared in the canteen, flushed, hair all over the place, red marks on the back of her neck where the plastic apron had been tied over her party clothes.

  'Congratulations,' she'd hugged Eve, in a voice edged with tears because she had just delivered her best friend's grandson and it still felt like a present: 'You're a grandma. You're a grandma now. They've had a beautiful boy, 8 pounds 10 ounces and Eve, he's perfect. He's absolutely perfect.'

  Everyone was on their feet.

  'How is she doing?' Eve managed to ask. 'Can we go and visit?'

  'Of course! She's fine... tired. But wait till you see them, they're just thrilled!'

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  They were all allowed in, even Joseph who was initially stopped at the door by Sister Leanne, who told him 'family only', to which Tom said, 'It's OK, that's my dad.'

  Eve wondered fleetingly what Sister Leanne made of that, but then there they were in front of her, the brand new family of three – Tom, Deepa and their tiny curled up, folded in caramel kiss of a baby.

  'Oh . . . oh . . . congratulations.' Eve hugged and kissed her son, who looked exhausted, but dazed with happiness in his sweat-soaked wedding T-shirt, 'Well groom-ed' spelled out in silver across the front.

  Then she moved on to her daughter-in-law, all cleaned up and starchy white in her hospital bed with the baby asleep in the crook of her arm.

  'He's just beautiful,' Eve whispered and let Anna and Robbie get right up to the bedside for a look. 'Are you OK?' she asked Deepa.

  'Yeah... that was a bit sore, though. To put it mildly.' Deepa managed to take her eyes from her son to look up at Eve now. 'But he's wonderful,' she whispered and for a moment they almost all cried all over again.

  'Well done, darling,' Eve said, kissing the top of Deepa's head. 'Do your family know yet?'

  'Yeah, Tom's made a few calls.'

  'There'll be no problems remembering our wedding anniversary now,' Tom added, not able to tear his gaze from his wife and their baby.

  'What are you going to call him?' Joseph asked.

  'I think we're going to name him after Mum,' Tom replied.

  'Eve?' Anna asked, a little taken aback.

  'No ... Adam,' Tom said, smiling. 'If you see what we mean.'

  'Oh! Sweet!' was the general consensus.

  'Thank you,' Eve said, too overcome to ad
d anything else.

  'Deepa? Will the baby drink milk from your boobies?' Robbie wanted to know.

  Finally, it was time to go home. Eve carried Robbie and Joseph carried Anna back to their cars.

  'You'll need some sleep before you drive back to Manchester, won't you? Or a cup of tea or something?' Eve asked when they were back at the flat, desperate for him not to go. This had been too much of a day. She needed him to stay just a bit longer.

  'Maybe I could kip on your couch for a bit. If that's OK?'

  'Of course. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep at all. Ever again!'

  They bundled Anna and Robbie into bed, party clothes and all, each of them noticing the other kiss the children and stroke them tenderly.

  In the kitchen, he sat down at the table and watched her make tea, in her faded rose-patterned dressing gown with her pink and blond hair clipped up all wonkily on top of her head and her face scrubbed clean, because she'd taken off her tired and smudged party make-up as well as her party dress.

  She went to the two tea caddies and spooned out tea leaves from each just the way he expected her to, poured in the boiling water, stirred it meditatively. He felt a pain, which he knew was heartache and homesickness. This was his home. This was the place he should be and this was the person he should be with. The feeling was so strong that he was going to have to do something about it. Say something. At least try. Was there ever going to be a better moment?

  She brought the pot over with two mugs.

  'Why did Tom thank you for the ring?' she asked before he could say anything. 'Did you lend him the money?'

  'No ... I gave him the ring. I thought Deepa might like it.'

  Eve was frowning at him, awaiting further explanation.

  'It was Michelle's,' he said.

  'Oh.' She was frozen, teapot in mid-air.

  'We've called it off. Split up... You don't need to say anything sympathetic,' he added: 'It was entirely my fault.'

  There was a big, expectant pause hanging between them. Eve hardly dared to breathe. She set the teapot down again.

  'I think you only know how much you've loved someone when it's over,' he said, suddenly developing an intense interest in a stain on the tablecloth, which he started to scrape at: 'I didn't love Michelle nearly enough to marry her... But what happened between you and me still seems really important and I sometimes wonder if I'm ever going to get over it... If I even want to get over it.'

  Her gaze dropped to the floor and rested on the caramel suede boots he was wearing underneath his suit. He was jiggling his foot a little and with every jiggle she could see a flash of his socks. That was when Eve saw what Jen had meant. They were probably very expensive socks – Paul Smith or something groovy – but nevertheless, they were stripy socks... and quite incredibly, they were purple and turquoise stripy socks.

  She looked back up at him and tried to read his expression. She didn't know that he was rolling all his courage up into a ball to ask her:

  'Eve?' he said, clearing his throat slightly, 'has it ever occurred to you? I mean, have you ever thought that maybe? For the children . . . we should, perhaps ...'

  Her eyes were fastened on his and for a moment he wavered. What was she thinking? Was he about to make a terrible mistake? He glanced round the room for any sort of sign. And as he paused, her hand moved against her mug with the slightest of clinks and he looked down to see that she still, after all this time, wore the ring he'd given her. The slip of platinum and emerald which hadn't been thrown back at him. It must count for something. Surely? OK, deep breath.

  'Eve, I'm so in love with you still,' he said, voice barely above a whisper.

  Long silence.

  'Do you realize that I'm a grandmother?' she said finally.

  'That doesn't matter.' He almost laughed.

  She looked at him for a long, long time. He felt in fear of what she might say next. 'Do you really think we can do this?' she asked him, head tilted to one side. 'Go back?' Could he really know how much she would like to go back?

  'No. We can't go back.' He put his hand over hers. 'But maybe we can go forward.'

  'I don't know if I can believe in it all again.'

  'Then believe in it a little. Take a chance.'

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Mum. Tom's words in her mind.

  She looked at the warm hand held over hers.

  'What about the children?' she thought out loud. 'I couldn't bear to see them hurt all over again.'

  'I love the children, Eve,' was his answer to this. 'Don't use them as an excuse when they're another reason to try again.'

  She looked at his face – so serious, so sincere, so downright, perfectly lovely. Who wouldn't want to wake up next to this face every day of their life?

  'This is all wrong,' she told him.

  'Is it?' He sounded very worried.

  'Yeah, you should definitely have started with kissing. Loosened me up with a bit of kissing and then moved on to the big speech.'

  'Should I?' A wash of relief over his face. 'OK ... Keep me right. Kiss now? Would that be any good?'

  'Ah ha, kissing now ... very good.'

  He leaned towards her and kissed the tip of her nose, very lightly. 'I've missed you so much,' he said. 'Every single day.'

  'And night,' she added, leaning in to kiss him on the mouth, wrap her arms round him and let herself fall... fall into him, fall back in love with him, fall forward into love with him.

  He tasted, just as she remembered, he smelled, just as she remembered, he felt, just as she remembered, from the very best of her dreams.

  The kiss finally melted apart and they were looking at each other, very close up, nose to nose. Big wide pupils fixed on her.

  'Come outside with me,' she said and led him by the hand out of the kitchen door into the garden.

  And there, underneath the tallest palm plants, pressed up against a trellis of sweet pea flowers, they began to kiss again. Again... again. He was perfect. She ran fingers through his hair, pulled him in against her, impatient to feel again every single thing that had once been so amazing between them. How had she lived without this? Lived without him?

  Her dressing gown fell to her feet and she fumbled over his shirt buttons, in too much of a hurry, licking and kissing at his soft, salty neck, tugging at his zip and feeling him wrap his arms and his jacket tightly around her.

  And only when he was inside, their bodies pressed right up against and into each other, moving with intent, did she dare to open her eyes.

  'It's OK,' she whispered against his ear. 'It's OK.'

  She meant the practicalities – no further surprises on the baby front – but 'it's OK' covered everything else right now. The strangeness and the familiarity, the newness and the known of making love to him again. Her man. His face pressed hard against her neck. Her one and only. She knew the little breathe and catch sound, breathe and catch, he was making. The love of her life. His hands on her hips, moving her with him until she was breaking apart, breaking into pieces underneath him, mouth and nose buried into his shoulder skin. This was how it was meant to be. She was so coming, unwinding, unravelling all the way through him.