“Tina, we can’t sneak in.”
“Emma, they kidnapped your baby!”
“Good point.”
However, when we turned the corner, my heart skipped a beat. I saw Joseph! My little boy! The rain on the glass interrupted my view but it was clearly him. My body prickled with a blizzard of sensations. My heart began to race, I forgot to breathe and my legs felt like slush.
Here, at the back of the house, was another window, and only one of the curtains had been pulled. I felt my throat tightening. It took all the will I had not to run in there and grab him. I had to play this wisely. He was so close to me, yet so far away.
Familiar, lovely, cuddly Nicky cradled him in her arms. I felt warm – somebody on my team was in there, presumably fighting my corner.
But why was she there? It didn’t make sense. She had told me that she was hundreds of miles away. Even if Simon had called her the moment he touched down, she wouldn’t have been able to get here so quickly. She would have had to plan to be here by now.
I began to feel dizzy. There was something decidedly wrong about this scene, and I couldn’t work out what it was.
Suddenly it hit me, like a lead bar striking the back of my head; Nicky and Dave were desperate for a child – any child. I looked at Joseph in her arms, his mouth searching for my breast. She looked so happy – so complete.
But they wouldn’t do this! They wouldn’t take my baby away from me. She couldn’t possibly agree that Joseph would be better off with anybody besides me! They knew, more than anybody, how stable I was, how capable I was of looking after my son.
Watching Joseph now, I felt that I would stop at nothing to be reunited with him. Could being infertile generate the same intensity of feelings? Could it make you literally do anything for a child? Did it matter whose child? Could you become so single-minded that you just wanted to be a mother, no matter what it took?
How much of it had been set up? Did they see an opportunity and swoop in there, or had they planned to take him from me all along? Had Simon been part of the setup? Had he not really gone to the South Pole? Was that just an excuse to leave me vulnerable?
No wonder Nicky was always so keen to set me up with Dave’s ‘friends’. They were planning this all along! How much had they paid Simon to be part of this scheme? Was that why he had slept with me despite our rocky beginning? How many other men had they approached to take part in their sick scheme?
I couldn’t believe this. Nicky was my best friend. We’d known each other for ten years, since university. I didn’t think she would hurt me for the world.
But the facts said otherwise. I could see her with my own eyes, cradling my baby. Dave entered the scene wearing his distinctive glasses, the crotch of his sloppy jeans half way down to his knees. He was carrying a bottle, which he passed it to Nicky.
“No!” I cried. “That’s my baby!” But my words were lost in the torrential rain.
“Is that Nicky?” asked Tina.
I could barely bring myself to nod.
“Do you think she’s come to argue your case?”
I tried to shake my head, but I was paralysed. There was only a pane of glass between me and the scene inside, but it felt like I was watching from another planet. Apart from Tina, everybody I cared about was in that room. I’d been betrayed by them all.
At what point had Nicky looked at her bipolar friend and started seeing me as a baby factory – somebody vulnerable enough to undermine when the time came?
“Can we get inside?” I wondered, more through morbid curiosity than anything. I still had no form of coherent plan. My brain was whirring, wondering how I could outwit these five adults.
Tina tugged the backdoor. It opened into a small hallway. We snuck inside.
Now, sheltered from the rain, I could hear talking. I felt uneasy being unable to see Joseph from here, but perhaps I could glean something useful from what was being said – anything that could help me get my boy back. I may have an incurable mental health problem, but at least honesty was on my side.
“I’ve known her since university,” explained Nicky. “For at least two years, she was a mess.”
You conniving little cow!
“She wouldn’t take her medication; she was in and out of hospital …”
Yes! But then I got better!
“The police detained her under the mental health act twice.”
But then I got better!
“But then she got better.”
Hang on, what?
“Look at him,” she said, playing with Joseph’s little fingers. “He’s perfect. I know Emma is my best friend, but friendship or no friendship, I wouldn’t recommend anything that would hurt this little fellow.”
What was going on? Was my apparently duplicitous, conniving cow of a best friend now fighting my corner? Perhaps my theory was entirely wrong.
“She only came off lithium to protect Joseph,” she explained, “from heart disease, I mean.”
Of course! The lithium – the threat to Joseph’s little heart and other health risks. And suddenly, there was blood pumping through my veins once again. Nicky couldn’t have staged this. She knew the dangers of taking lithium during pregnancy. There was no way that she would have risked bringing a severely disabled baby into the world. No matter how much she and Dave wanted a child, they wouldn’t risk that.
I began to feel ashamed of myself. How could I have believed that two of my best friends were trying to steal my baby behind my back, when here was Nicky, defending me?
“She gave her baby up at the drop of a hat!” barked Gerald.
“It wasn’t the drop of a hat, though, was it Dad?”
Hearing Simon’s voice stopped my breath in my windpipe; my lungs froze – half full, half empty. It was then that I realised that Simon’s part in all this was of paramount importance to me – even more important that my best friend’s involvement. I really did care about him.
“She gave him up,” repeated Gerald, gruff.
“Only for a few days, so she could recover,” Simon pointed out.
“Well, where is she then? Where is she now? Huh?” Gerald demanded, aggressively.
“I told her that I didn’t know where you were.”
“That’s proof that you think she’s unstable, if ever I heard it!” he boomed.
“No it’s not!” cried Nicky and Dave in unison.
“I just didn’t want you upsetting her any further. And I didn’t want to get her hopes up. I hope I can appeal to your common sense, but I knew how unreasonable you can be.”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that!”
“I was talking to you, Dad.”
Tina whispered to me, “Do you think we should go in there?”
I was shaking. “No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because … Because I have faith in Simon.”
Tina raised her eyebrows. Admittedly, I was being particularly inconsistent, but there were emotions flying at me from every angle, as events unfolded before me. It really did sound as though Simon was on my side.
“Emma is one of the most loving, caring women I have ever met,” said Simon, with conviction. “She’s remarkable, in every way. And, if you take our son away from her, you will be robbing a little boy of the best mother he could ever have.”
Wow.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
There was a lump in my throat.
I felt myself welling up.
Best mother? Seriously? This man was deluded. But at least he appeared to be deluded in my favour.
Finally, I heard Judy say, “And what’s your involvement going to be?”
“Keep out of this,” growled Gerald.
Simon spoke, “I’m his father. I’ll be a father to him whatever happens. But I promise you this, if you try to keep him away from his mother, his brilliant, loving mother, I will fight you every step of the way.”
I threw the door open. I didn’t mean to. I was just overcom
e by a sudden desire to do it. I stood there, staring into the room. Five faces stared back at me.
My eyes scanned the room for Joseph. Where was he? Why was he no longer in Nicky’s arms? I realised that Judy was holding him. She gazed back at me, like a frightened rabbit in the headlights.
I found myself walking forward. I didn’t instruct my limbs to do it, they just did. I stopped, a foot short of Judy, and held out my arms. “Judy, please,” I muttered.
“Judy, if you hand our grandson over to that insane woman, I’ll …” Gerald stumbled on his words.
“You’ll what, Dad?” asked Simon.
“Judy,” he said, in the same firm tone. “We talked about this.”
I noticed that Judy was trembling. I looked into her eyes. “Please,” I whispered. From one mother, to another, please!
She wobbled, for a moment I thought she was going to give Joseph back to me, but she continued to hold him firm.
“Do you love him?” I asked her.
She nodded.
“So do I,” I said, smiling at her kindly. All the other people in the room seemed to slip away, and it felt as though it was just Judy, Joseph and me. I remembered the day that she took me to the park; I remembered her looking after Joseph so that I could nap. This was a woman who could empathise with people, a woman who cared. She cared about Joseph and she cared about me.
She stared back at me. She had big blue eyes like her son and grandson – familiar eyes, eyes that I’d grown to love and trust. All of a sudden, I knew she was going to do the right thing. I watched her defiant expression thaw. Slowly, she held Joseph forward. I scooped him up in my arms – my little boy.
I held him, feeling his warmth against me. It struck me that I’d forgotten how warm he was – three days apart, and already I’d forgotten this little detail. But remembering the tiny things, like the little horizontal indent on his nose, and the wrinkle by his left ear, made the moment even sweeter. He felt slightly heavier and his red hair was a touch thicker. I felt aggrieved to think that I’d missed him gain an ounce, but he was back now, and that was all that mattered.
I was vaguely aware of some noises in the room, shouting, I think – it all seemed muffled, as if Joseph was omitting serene silence. I was aware that somebody was behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, looking over my shoulder. Then, one by one, I became aware of faces in front of me.
Finally, the sounds grew louder and the sights around me moved back into focus. I turned and looked at Simon. I didn’t need to say anything; the baby in my arms said it all.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, softly.
I nodded. “Did you find the car seat?”
“Dammit!”
“Are you all right?” asked Nicky, stroking my arm.
I looked at Joseph and smiled.
All I wanted now was to get my baby home. I was just about to walk out through the front door, without ever looking back, when I realised there was something I needed to do.
Still holding Joseph, I walked into the kitchen, to where Judy was pretending to boil a kettle. Her eyes were red and puffy. “Thank you,” I said, “Grandma.”
She tried to smile, but her lower lip trembled, betraying her.
“Will you be okay?” I asked quietly.
She tried to nod, but it was more of a head tremble.
“We’ll call you tomorrow.”
I could hear Nicky calling, and I hurried to catch up with her in the porch. When I reached her, she was full of words. I didn’t need to hear them – I had my baby back and that was all that mattered – but perhaps she needed to say them.
“We came back from Dave’s parents’ early. I couldn’t leave you down here going through … all that.”
“Just as we were nearing home, Simon called,” said Dave.
“I managed to call mum while you were in the bathroom,” explained Simon. “She told me where they were and asked me to come.”
“So you really did leave your charger at mine?”
“Yes. Wait, you didn’t believe me?”
“Now is not a time for one of your rows,” said Nicky, firmly.
“I’m sorry,” said Simon. “I wanted to tell you where I was going. But I thought you’d come marching in, all guns blazing.”
“That doesn’t sound like me,” I said, in a self-mocking tone.
“See! Told you to avoid the blazing guns!” Tina reminded me.
“I thought I stood more chance of reasoning with them if you stayed at home,” Simon explained. “I’m sorry.”
“In fairness,” said Nicky. “He was doing a pretty good job.”
“Ah, I just know my parents well,” he said, batting away the compliment.”
“I’m sorry that you had to return to chaos. I haven’t even found out if you completed your marathon.”
“Darling,” he said, pausing for effect, “the ice marathon was the easy part.” Then, he added, “However, life will be much easier now that we’re going to live together.”
You what now?
Chapter 15
I’d been planning on telling Simon that two former lovers living under the same roof was a recipe for disaster, but there was never a good time. So here we were, on Christmas Day, sitting on the sofa together sipping port.
As it happened, having somebody encourage me to put up a Christmas tree did make the house that little bit brighter. Likewise, having somebody cook a turkey did make Christmas a little bit more festive. Actually, living with my former nemesis turned out to be decidedly better than I ever thought possible. Of course, having somebody in the spare room when Joseph woke up at night was welcome too.
I was wearing my party dress – a short, dark red, taffeta affair with sequins and a little net underskirt that caused it to flare out at the bottom. Simon was wearing a dark green Christmas shirt with the jeans that I particularly liked – loose but tight where it mattered.
We sat looking at his photos from Antarctica, which he’d printed on the shiny printer he bought himself for Christmas. They were stunning. He had a real flare for capturing the light despite the tricky large expanses of snow.
“I’ve seen that one – it’s on the website.”
“What website?”
“The online one.”
“As opposed to one of those websites that’s not online?”
I laughed. “You know, the official one.”
“Jim must have put them on there. He copied a bunch off my memory stick.”
“Why aren’t you in any of them?”
“Seriously?” he laughed. “You think I’d let someone else hold my camera?”
I chuckled. He had a point. “Where’s a picture of the snowman?”
“What snowman?”
“You didn’t build a snowman?”
“No.”
“Boring!”
“I did build an igloo!”
“An igloo? That’s awesome.”
“Mike Green thought it would be a nice touch.”
Huh? “Mike Green, as in, my boss?”
“Yeah. He joked about it before I left, so I decided to actually do it. It’ll make a great picture for the magazine.”
“Hang on, slow down. What’s Shelter got to do with this?”
“That’s who I ran the marathon for. Well, actually, it’s who Joe ran the marathon for; I just picked up where he left off.”
“Wait a second. Your marathon raised money for Shelter?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew that all along?”
“Well, naturally.”
“But you never said!”
“It’s never come up.”
“But at that dinner party, when I was mouthing off about estate agents and homelessness, you could have used that to put me in my place at any moment.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to put you down. I wanted to hear what you had to say.”
“Why? I was horrible.”
“You weren’t horrible.”
“I wa
s. I was really horrible.” Then I added, softly, “I’m really sorry about that night.”
“You’re always apologising about that night,” he said, suddenly sounding annoyed. “You apologise for this fight, you apologise for that fight.” I was surprised to note that he seemed to be getting quite heated. “You’ve never once apologised for the thing that actually hurt me.”
It distressed me to see him looking so hurt. “What thing?”
He sighed and shuffled awkwardly.
“What thing?”
“You never called,” he mumbled.
“What?” I laughed, surprised.
“See! You don’t even see that that’s a problem.”
“I didn’t know you wanted me to call. We hated each other.”
“You keep saying that!” he snapped, standing up angrily. Then facing away from me, he added, “But I never hated you.”
“That sex was brutal,” I pointed out, standing up next to him.
“It was the most moving experience of my life.”
It was?
Oh.
I took a moment to take in what he was telling me. He had wanted me to call. But my whole understanding of our relationship was based on the assumption that he didn’t like me, at least not back then.
Quickly, I pointed out, “But you didn’t even wait around. You were gone when I got up.”
“I waited for three hours. In the end I had to go, I had plans.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed. “I didn’t know,” I said, softly. “Hey!” I said, grabbing his arm. “I didn’t know!”
“Would it have made a difference?” he asked, defensively.
I stared at the back of his head, astonished. I couldn’t answer hypothetical questions about the past. The only moment I could control was right now. I thought about it – right now …
I grabbed his arm firmly and spun around to face me. He looked at the carpet. I stepped forward so that we were only inches apart, tilted his chin and kissed him firmly on the lips.
For an excruciating moment, he just stood there neither retracting nor responding. My lips were still pressing against his. I wondered if I should back away.
Then suddenly, he began kissing me – and somewhat enthusiastically! His hands were on my back, then my waist, feeling my curves …
He grabbed me, lifting me clean off the ground, and threw me face down on the sofa. At first, it took me by surprise, but after a few moments, I realised that his manner was deliciously familiar.
The Ice Marathon Page 11
