The New Neighbours

by Costeloe Diney

  “I know. I’m sorry, Mum.”

  Angela smiled ruefully. “We’ll manage something,” she said. “I just wish I’d been able to tell that Harman woman that Chantal was leaving as from today too, then she’d have lost two lots of fees! Stupid cow!”

  “Mother!” Annabel exclaimed in surprise.

  “ ‘We at Belcaster High do not bow to fashion,’ ” Angela mimicked the headmistress’s prissy voice, and they both laughed. “But I can tell you this, Annabel, if there’d been anywhere else to send her apart from Crosshills, I’d have removed Chantal today. Still that’s not your problem, I’ll discuss it with Dad. And you must talk to Dad this weekend as well,” her mother added.

  “Yes, I will, I promise,” Annabel said. “I’ll ring him this evening and arrange to see him.” She looked across at her mother, and noticed for the first time the tired rings round her eyes and the drawn gauntness of her face and reaching out took hold of her hands. “Thank you, Mum, for standing by me.”

  Angela returned her grasp and said quietly, “What else did you think I’d do, darling? Try not to worry, we’ll see it through together.” She downed her coffee. “Now, come on, we have to go to the tech, and see what they say.”

  “What happens if they won’t have me either?” wondered Annabel.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” replied Angela, “but I’m sure they will.”

  She had been right. That part of the arranging had been comparatively easy. The courses she was already studying were also being offered by the tech, and though some of the work they had covered she hadn’t and the other way around, the tutors were confident that she would be ready to take the exams in the summer provided she worked hard. She was to start immediately, and arrived for her first lecture the next morning.

  Telling her father had not been easy either. As she promised, she rang him that same evening and arranged to meet him. She hadn’t seen him for ages, still angry with him for leaving she hadn’t wanted to, but when he heard her voice on the phone he sounded very glad to hear from her.

  “Polly, what a lovely surprise!” His use of his private name for her caught at her heart and she realised how much she had missed him. Tears pricked her eyes and she said, “Can we meet up, Dad, at the weekend? Saturday perhaps?”

  “It would be lovely to see you, pet,” he said. “We’ll have a pub lunch and catch up on everything. Just you, or is Chantal coming too?”

  “Just me I’m afraid, Dad. I wanted to discuss something with you.”

  She hesitated. “Can it be just us, Dad? Not Desirée too? It’s sort of private.”

  “Fair enough,” he agreed cheerfully. “She’s away this weekend anyway. Shall we meet in the George and Dragon?”

  “Yes, fine, or I could come round to your flat.” Annabel wasn’t at all sure she wanted to tell Dad about the baby in a public place. She felt the need for privacy.”

  “No, no,” he said hastily, “the pub would be far better. I’ll be there from about twelve. See you then, pet.”

  “See you, Dad,” answered Annabel, but her father had already rung off.

  When Annabel got to the George and Dragon on Saturday, it was full of cheerful lunchtime drinkers. She pushed her way through the crowd to where her father was standing at the bar.

  “Hi Dad.”

  “Polly!” His face lit up at the sight of her and he gathered her into a bear-like hug, before holding her away from him to look into her face. “Let me look at you. It’s great to see you. What do you want to drink, pet?”

  “Orange juice and lemonade please,” replied Annabel.

  “Nothing stronger?” He was surprised. She usually drank lager, but when she shook her head he ordered the orange juice and lemonade and then said, “I’ve booked a table in the back bar for quarter to one. It always gets crowded in here on a Saturday and I wanted to be sure we could sit down.” He handed her her drink, “Cheers,” he said and took a pull at his own pint.

  Annabel was determined she wasn’t going to say anything about the baby until they were safely sitting down in the comparative quiet of the back bar, and she was relieved that Dad didn’t ask her straight out why she’d wanted to see him. He waited for her to speak.

  “Chantal sends her love,” she began

  Her father smiled. “Does she? That’s nice. How is she?”

  “Oh, very excited. There is a house full of students at number seven, you know Ned Short’s old house…” and to pass the time until they could sit down, she launched into an account of the goings-on in the Circle ending with a description of Madge’s ninetieth barbecue.

  “She really is an amazing old biddy,” Ian said. “Hope I’m as good as that when I’m ninety.” A silence fell, enclosing them in a bubble from the hubbub of noise about them, and then Ian asked casually, “How’s your mum?”

  “She’s fine,” Annabel said. “Busy, you know, working full-time.”

  “Still seeing that chap, what’s he called…David?”

  Angela was not seeing David, or anyone else for that matter, but Annabel was feeling very protective of her mother just now and she decided that Mum’s pride must be protected. “Yes, he’s around all the time,” she lied. “Seems very keen.”

  “Do you like him?” asked Ian. “You and Chantal?”

  “Yes, he’s great fun.” Feeling she had said enough and not wanting to get drawn too deeply into a web of lies, she said, “Are we going to eat soon, I’m starving?”

  Ian glanced at his watch. “Yes, let’s go through.”

  When they were settled at the table and had ordered their food, Ian looked across at Annabel and said encouragingly, “Well, Polly, this is a treat.”

  Annabel decided it was now or never, so she said, “Dad, I’ve got something to tell you. I’m sorry to spring it on you, but there’s no other way. I’m pregnant.”

  Her father put down his glass and looked across at her for a long moment before saying quietly, “Oh Polly, what have you done?”

  Annabel felt the tears in her eyes and blinked hard. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it to happen.”

  “No, I’m sure you didn’t,” he said dryly. “When’s it due?”

  “End of January.”

  “So you’re going to have it, then?”

  Annabel nodded dumbly, hating the look of disappointment in her father’s eyes.

  “And keep it? Or have it adopted?”

  “I want to keep it, Dad. I don’t want to give it away.”

  “And what does your mother say?”

  “Mum says we’ll cope somehow, between us.”

  “And who’s the father? What about him? What does he say?”

  At that moment the food came, and while the waitress put the plates on the table, brought them sauces and warned them that the plates were very hot, Annabel had time to phrase her answer.

  When they were alone again, she said, “It was a man I met, went around with for a while. It only happened once and then…”

  “He dumped you?” Ian fought to control the anger in his voice.

  “Not really, he… well, he moved away. I don’t know where he is and he doesn’t know about the baby.”

  Ian looked at her sternly. “Then we must trace him, tell him what’s going on. What’s his name?”

  Annabel lowered her eyes and simply shook her head.

  “For God’s sake, Annabel,” her father exploded. “It’s no good just shaking your head. We have to have his name. He has to be told.”

  “Why?” cried Annabel. “Why does he have to know? He has nothing to do with it.”

  “Nothing to do with it,” repeated Ian incredulously, “it took two of you to start this baby… it’s his baby too you know, quite apart from his responsibilities towards it, he’s entitled to know. He’ll have to contribute towards its keep, it’s not just your baby, Annabel, it’s his as well.”

  It was not the reaction Annabel had been expecting from her father and tears fina
lly flooded down her cheeks. Over the months, she had felt herself hardening towards Scott, even though he seemed to have protected her from the police. She wished she’d never met him and genuinely didn’t want anything more to do with him. She’d never thought of the baby as Scott’s baby, it was hers, and she never wanted to see Scott again.

  The room was filling up round them and seeing her distress, Ian pushed his plate away untouched. “I’m not hungry, are you?”

  Annabel shook her head miserably.

  “Come on, then,” he said, “let’s get out of here. We’ll go back to the flat where we can discuss this properly and in private.”

  He paid for the uneaten food and marched out to the car park. They drove in silence to the flat where he now lived and let themselves in.

  “We’ll have to eat something,” he said. “I’ll heat up some soup and we’ll have it with bread and cheese.”

  While he was in the kitchen, Annabel went the bathroom. When she came to wash her hands, she noticed that only her father’s washing things were beside the basin. One toothbrush hung in the rack, his shaving kit was on the shelf with the toothpaste, but there was nothing of Desirée’s. Before, there had been rows of pots and bottles, all her lotions and potions, deodorant, talc, make-up remover and other creams; now there was nothing. There was only one towel on the rail and her bathrobe was no longer hanging on the back of the door.

  Of course, she’s away for the weekend, Annabel suddenly remembered, drying her hands, Dad said so.

  When they had drunk their soup and eaten some bread and cheese, Ian asked quietly, “What does Mum say about the baby?”

  “She’s been great,” Annabel said. “She’s upset, of course, but she hasn’t really said so. She’s been helping me to get things sorted out,” and Annabel went on to tell him about Belcaster High and the Tech. Ian was less surprised at Mrs Harman’s reaction than Angela had been.

  “Of course she can’t keep you there,” he said. “How would she explain it to the other girls and their parents? I just hope she doesn’t take it out on Chantal and make her life hell.”

  “Mum said she’d move her today if there was anywhere else but Crosshills to send her.”

  “Hmmm, well we’ll have to give that some thought,” Ian mused. “However, in the meantime I think we must all get together and have a proper conference on what’s going to happen. I mean about when the baby’s born. We have to consider all the options, and it’s a decision that we all have to be in on, as it affects us all. I’ll give Mum a ring and arrange a time to discuss things, OK?”

  Annabel nodded. “Thanks for being so understanding, Dad.”

  “Yes, well… In the meantime you must give some thought to telling us who the father is. I assume your mother doesn’t know? No, well we’re going to have to find out in the end. You give it some thought, eh?” He looked at her for a long moment and then putting his arms round her said, “Oh Polly, how on earth did you let this happen? It’s going to change your life!”

  For the briefest span, Annabel considered telling her father the whole thing, including the robbery and the car chase, but her nerve failed her and she just said miserably, “I wish it hadn’t happened, Dad, really I do, but it did.”

  For a moment they sat in silence, then Annabel pulled free. She had noticed as they’d been eating that most of the CDs were missing, as was the hi-fi itself. Now she looked into her father’s face and asked, “Dad, where’s Desirée?”

  He looked uncomfortable and replied with a shrug, “She’s away for the weekend, I told you.”

  “Just for the weekend, Dad?” pursued Annabel.

  Ian sighed. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

  “You mean she’s left you?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” He hesitated for a moment and then admitted, “She left last weekend, and I haven’t heard from her since.”

  “But what about her things, what’ll she do about those?”

  “She took them with her,” Ian said. “I was away all last Friday until late evening, and when I got home she’d gone.”

  “And taken everything with her, clothes, books, what?”

  “Everything of hers and much of what we’d bought together.” Ian sounded weary.

  Annabel put her arms round him again. “Oh Dad, poor Dad, how awful for you, are you very sad?”

  He returned her hug and then got to his feet, pacing to the window and back before saying, “To tell you the truth, Polly, no I’m not. Things hadn’t been right for some time, and I think she’d found someone else. I’m not really expecting her back.”

  “So you’re all on your own. Have you told Mum?”

  “No, I haven’t,” he replied and added sharply, “and you’re not to, either.”

  “Oh Dad, why ever not? Perhaps you could…”

  “No, Polly,” he cut her off. “It isn’t as simple as that. We’ve changed, both of us. We aren’t the people we were before Desirée came on the scene, and we can’t just put the clock back. Our lives have diverged, and we’ve moved in different directions.”

  “But she ought to know,” pleaded Annabel. “It’s not fair not to tell her, ’specially now I know.”

  “I’m going to tell her… I will tell her, but in my own time.”

  “You mean if Desirée doesn’t come back!” Annabel said bitterly.

  “No,” he answered patiently, “when I’ve thought things through. And in the meantime, Polly, I really don’t want you to tell her, or anyone else for that matter, about Desirée leaving.”

  “Did she leave you a note?” demanded Annabel

  “Desirée? No.”

  “Or her door keys?”

  “No.”

  “Then I should have the locks changed,” remarked Annabel, bleakly.

  When Ian dropped Annabel back to Dartmouth Circle, she tried to persuade him to come in, but he was adamant.

  “No, pet. I’ll ring Mum tomorrow and we’ll arrange an evening to talk.” He gave her a hug and then holding her at arm’s length, he looked at her seriously, “Please, Polly,” he reminded her, “don’t tell her about Desirée, not yet. I’ll tell her myself, I promise, when the time’s right.”

  So she had promised, but the knowledge was burning a hole inside her.

  “I’m glad you’re not having an abortion,” Sheila said, breaking in on her thoughts. “I know you’ll think I’m an interfering old woman, but it’s not something I think any woman should put herself through unless it’s an absolute necessity.”

  “No, well I’m not having one,” Annabel said firmly, and tried to think of some way to change the subject. “Look, Mrs Colby, I really don’t want to discuss this with you. What I’ve decided I’ve decided, and it is as you said, none of your business!”

  Surprisingly Sheila nodded and said, “Quite right. But I just wanted to tell you something that very few people know. Just Gerald and myself now, I suppose.” She set down her teacup and looking squarely at Annabel took a deep breath. “When I was your age I got pregnant too. In those days it was considered a dreadful thing to be a single mother. The father, not Gerald, of course, was a student who was lodging with my family. I didn’t dare tell my parents, they wouldn’t have been able to stand the shame of it, so, George, that was the student, he found a place where they would do something about the baby, no questions asked, for £200.” Sheila had Annabel’s full attention now.

  “A back street abortionist?”

  “A back street abortionist. I just turned up, they gave me an anaesthetic and when I came round again it was all over and they sent me home. Only, of course it wasn’t all over. Later that evening I started to bleed, and I was so frightened that I had to tell my mother.” For a moment Sheila’s eyes became distant as she remembered the awfulness of that night and her mother’s reaction, then she looked again at Annabel, “Well, to cut a long story short, I had to go into hospital and they saved my life, but after that I couldn’t have any more children.” She glanced across at Annabel’
s horrified face. “Of course abortions aren’t like that these days, but it isn’t just the physical side of it, you know. A day hasn’t passed that I haven’t thought about that baby, and wondered what he or she would have been like. That child would be forty-eight if it were alive today, but I killed it because I was too ashamed to let it live, to give it the love it deserved. I killed my own chances of having more children, deprived Gerald of the chance of being a father, and I have to live with those regrets.”

  Silence lapsed round them and then Annabel said in a small voice. “This is your secret. Why are you telling me this?”

  “To encourage you,” Sheila answered quietly. “I assume the pregnancy was a mistake?”

  Annabel nodded.

  “Well, so it was, but you’re brave enough to let your baby be born, Annabel, and though it will be very difficult for you, I’m sure when he or she is laid in your arms you won’t have any regrets about your decision.”

  “What happened to George?” asked Annabel.

  “George? My parents kicked him out of the house and told him they never wanted to see him again.”

  “And you? Did you want to see him again?” Annabel spoke in a low voice.

  Sheila shook her head. “No,” she said. “No, I didn’t want to see him again. He blamed me for the baby, and all he did was find the money for the abortion and then disappear.” She looked at Annabel speculatively and asked, “What about the father of your baby. What does he think?”

  “He doesn’t know,” her eyes met Sheila’s, “he’s disappeared as well.”

  “I see.”

  “But my parents are standing by me. I’m not facing this on my own.” She gave Sheila a shy smile. “Thank you for telling me, Mrs Colby. I’ll keep your secret and I’ll remember what you said.”

  “Well now,” Sheila said briskly, “that sounds like a car.” She went and looked out of the window. “Yes, your mother has just pulled in, so, you’d better be off, or she’ll be wondering where you are. Look after yourself, young lady.” The intimate moment between them had passed and Sheila reverted to the stiff awkward woman that Annabel recognised. Annabel got to her feet and picked up her bag.