‘Here,’ Barry croaked.
Anna turned her head. He was sitting in the corner of the room rocking back and forth, tears streaming down his face, holding their baby girl.
Anna reached out her arms. Barry stood up, walked over and gently placed the almost weightless bundle on her chest. Her daughter’s tiny face peered out. Eyes closed. Lips blue.
Barry sat on the side of the bed, his head in his hands, sobbing.
She looked down at her baby girl. Her mother’s sign. Her mother’s gift. Dead. Not breathing. Born too soon. Too fragile. Too weak. Too helpless. Not for this world.
A nurse offered to take some pictures. ‘You’ll find them a comfort,’ she said softly. She took one of Anna holding the baby and one of the baby’s face.
Anna thanked her and asked her to leave them alone with the baby for a while.
Barry didn’t speak. He just continued to cry, as if a river of grief had opened up inside him.
‘Hope Sophie Roberts,’ Anna said, staring at her child. ‘Her name is Hope. Because that’s what she was to me. Hope. My last and final hope. And Sophie for my mother, who will have to look after her now.’ Anna squeezed her eyes tightly shut and let out a primal wail – she keened for her lost love, her broken heart and her shattered life.
Anna held her baby girl close, inhaling her scent. She kissed her, she held her, she cuddled her, she poured all of the love in her heart into her. She sang to her, she whispered to her, she prayed for her, she breathed in her smell, she clung to her … until eventually the doctors took her Hope away.
As she watched her baby girl disappear from her life for ever, Anna didn’t cry. There were no tears left and there were no words to describe her pain. Barry sat silently by her side, unable to speak, unable to offer words of comfort because there were none. He was a broken man.
During the time she was in hospital, the only person she agreed to see was Joe: her oldest friend, the only person left in the world who had known her from the age of three when his family had lived next door to hers. Joe was a GP and had been so kind to her mother when she was sick. Her mother had called him her surrogate son. It was Joe who had arranged for Anna and Barry to see every fertility specialist in Ireland and two in London. He had shared their disappointments. He had held her hand in his surgery while she cried for her unborn babies. He had given her sleeping tablets when her desperation for a baby became too much. It was Joe who had listened to her, time and time again … and now.
He stuck his head around the door. His hair was rumpled and his jacket was creased. He always looked as if he had just got out of bed. ‘Congratulations on becoming a mother.’ He came over and enveloped her in a bear hug.
Anna half smiled. Only Joe would say something like that. She was a mother. She hadn’t thought about it like that. She had given birth to a child. She was someone’s mother. Hope’s mum.
Joe held her hand. ‘Barry said you called her Hope Sophie.’
Anna nodded.
‘It’s beautiful, Anna. Your mother would be so proud of you.’
Anna turned away. ‘My mother would be broken-hearted. I’m glad she’s dead. I’d hate her to have seen this.’
‘Do you have a photo?’
Anna handed him the two pictures she had of Hope.
‘She’s perfect,’ he said.
‘She’s dead,’ Anna said.
‘Yes, she is.’
‘After five and a half years and eight pregnancies, I have nothing. I don’t even own a uterus any more. I think I’m what they call washed up. Used goods. Fit only for the scrapyard.’
Joe fiddled with his glasses. ‘Come on, Anna.’
‘Come-on-Anna what? Buck up? Chin up? Stiff upper lip? There’s nothing left, Joe. I will never have a child of my own. All I ever wanted was to be a mum. That’s never going to happen now. It’s over. The waiting, hoping, praying … it’s all over. I will never see a first smile, first tooth, first day at school. I’ll never hear the word “Mummy” said to me. I’ll never buy a Hallowe’en costume or a Christmas stocking for my mantelpiece. Santa Claus will never come to my house. No Tooth Fairy will leave money under my child’s pillow. I’ll never dress my daughter in pretty clothes and tell her she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. I’ll never tuck her in at night and tell her I love her, to have sweet dreams. I’ll never know the unconditional love that I ache to give her. I’ll never be a mother and I don’t know if I can handle it.’
Joe didn’t say anything. He just held Anna while the tears that had been buried deep beneath her broken, shattered heart finally surfaced.
After five days she was discharged. She left with a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers. Two days later, on a crisp January morning, Barry and Anna buried their baby girl and all their hope with her. They stood at the tiny grave, united in grief, torn apart by sorrow.
As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Anna felt the light go out inside her. She knew that her life from now on would be half a life. She’d go on living but inside she was dead.
Later that day when she was about to take some sleeping tablets to try to obliterate the pain in her chest, Barry came in, still wearing his black suit, and sat down on their bed. With his back turned to her, shoulders hunched, he asked, ‘What did we do that was so bad? Why are we being punished?’
‘I don’t know,’ Anna said.
‘You see these losers – drug addicts, abusers, rapists – having kids and here we are, two nice normal people who could give a child a happy home, and we get nothing.’ Barry pulled at his tie as if it was choking him. ‘I tried not to get my hopes up, I knew we could lose it again, but four months passed, then five and then six, and I thought, OK, this is it. This is the one. Anna was right, this is a keeper. I’m going to be a dad. I’m finally going to be a dad. And now she’s gone. Buried under the ground. Our little Hope. My daughter, my little girl.’ Barry’s face was full of rage. ‘WHY, ANNA? WHY US? WHY?’
Anna reached over to him, wincing as her scar throbbed. She held her husband in her arms and they wept for their lost child. Their stolen baby.
6.
Laura
May 1994
Jody was toddling around Laura’s bedroom in a pair of high-heeled shoes, squealing with delight. But at only sixteen months she was still unsteady on her feet. She toppled over and began to cry.
‘For God’s sake, Jody,’ Laura snapped. ‘Stop trying on my shoes. You’re always falling over.’
Jody looked up at her mother, her big blue eyes spilling tears. But Laura ignored her daughter: she was in a really bad mood. Yellow was the colour she could see, mustardy yellow. She was furious that her mother couldn’t look after Jody: she wanted to go to Frank’s rugby match at the university – not that she was remotely interested in rugby, but Danny was playing and she had been planning her outfit all week.
She’d gone for skinny black jeans, flat black boots and a black Che Guevara T-shirt that he had admired a few months ago. But now Joan had told her she was going out to lunch with six of her friends and wouldn’t be back until much later.
Laura knew she didn’t really stand a chance with Danny now that she had a kid, but he was always nice to her and chatted to her whenever they bumped into each other, and he wasn’t going out with anyone so she held out a tiny sliver of hope that maybe one day they would get together.
She plonked Jody down to watch cartoons while she went to get ready. When she’d done her makeup, smoky eyes and neutral lips, she examined herself in the mirror. Her eyes were the best thing about her face. They were big and deep blue. She liked that because blue was her happy colour. She wondered if Jody would see numbers, letters and emotions as colours too. She had loved that special connection with her dad. She remembered the first time she’d said that her name was a purple name and her dad had been so excited. He had kept hugging her and saying, ‘You’re a very special girl.’ They had laughed about it all the time. It was wonderful to have someone close to you who h
ad the same quirks and characteristics as you.
It was also nice to know that she wasn’t alone: when she had said in school that she saw colours for numbers and names, some of the other kids had called her a weirdo. She’d come home crying and Joan had told her just to keep her colours to herself and not tell the other kids so she wouldn’t be considered different. But then her dad had come home and told her to hold her head up high and never be ashamed of the gift God had given her. He always called it a gift because it had made him a genius with numbers and had led to his huge success in computer programming.
‘Don’t hide what you are. Be proud of it,’ her dad had urged. ‘You’re lucky to have this unique view of the world because it’ll make you see things differently and that’s a good thing. Who wants to be the same as everyone else? Being unique is wonderful. What we have is called synaesthesia and it makes us special. My grandmother had it and my mother too, so hopefully your children will be lucky as well.’
He had made her feel so good about being different. But he was wrong about school: it was better for her not to mention it because she didn’t want to be different. She didn’t want to stick out or be thought odd. She wanted to fit in. She wanted to be like the other kids. So she had hidden it and used it to her advantage in getting good results. She had found it easy to remember names and numbers and had done well in her exams. But her heart had always been in art.
From as far back as she could remember she had loved painting. She saw everything through colour – when she listened to music she saw colours. Painting was second nature to her, the best way to express what she saw in her head. Her art teacher had told her she was very talented. She had decided to study history of art because she wanted to go to college with her friends and have fun for a few years, then go to Paris to continue with her art. But Jody had come along and ruined that dream, destroyed that hope. She’d never get to Paris now.
Jody came wobbling in. ‘Mama.’ She grinned up at her mother, her little pearly teeth showing.
‘It’s Laura. Call me Laura.’ Laura was furious with Joan for teaching Jody to call her ‘Mama’. She didn’t want to be called that. It made her feel worse than she already did. She wasn’t a mother – at least, she didn’t feel like one. She hated being burdened with a kid and didn’t need to be reminded of it every five minutes by being called ‘Mama’.
Jody frowned. ‘Lala,’ she said.
‘Yes, good girl, that’s it – Laura. Now, come on, let’s get you dressed. We’re going to a rugby match and I want you to be good, no shouting or whingeing.’
Laura took her daughter into her bedroom, changed her nappy and put her into one of the many flouncy dresses Joan had bought her. She strapped her into her buggy, gave her a bottle and closed the door behind her.
When they got to the match, Laura turned the buggy to face her and whispered to Jody, ‘Listen, there’s a guy here that I really like called Danny. If he comes over to talk to me, you must smile and look really pretty and sweet. If I have any chance with him, he has to think kids are easy. So, none of your hissy fits today. OK?’
Jody sucked her bottle and blinked.
Laura kissed her forehead. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ She took a deep breath and pushed the buggy into the rugby stadium where four thousand students were shouting for their teams. She heard her name called.
‘Laura, over here.’ Chloë was waving her arms to catch her attention.
Laura manoeuvred the buggy towards her friend, who was sitting with Amber and Hayley.
‘Oh, my God, how cute is Jody,’ Chloë cooed.
‘Do you think it’s a good idea to bring her to a rugby game? It’s very loud. Won’t she be frightened?’ Hayley wondered.
‘I had no choice – my mum’s out.’
‘It’s not great for your image. I mean, I thought you were trying to get people to forget you had a kid and now the whole university can see her,’ Amber said.
‘Like I said, I had no choice.’
‘You could have stayed at home,’ Amber suggested.
‘God, Amber, give her a break,’ Chloë snapped.
‘I’m only trying to help.’ Amber flicked back her hair and pouted. She was wearing the same skinny jeans as Laura, but she had really high spike-heeled black boots on and a sparkly top.
‘Aren’t you a bit overdressed for a rugby match?’ Laura said.
‘No.’ Amber scowled.
‘Her thighs look bigger than Frank’s,’ Chloë whispered, and Laura giggled.
‘How hot does Danny look?’ Amber said.
‘Very,’ they all agreed.
Jody began to wriggle and squeal.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, be quiet,’ Laura muttered.
‘Here, let me hold her.’ Chloë reached over and lifted Jody out of the buggy. Jody went to her happily. She was used to being handed around between Laura’s friends when they called to the house. She never made strange. ‘She’s such a cutie.’ Chloë kissed her chubby cheeks.
‘I’d kill for hair like that,’ Hayley said, looking admiringly at Jody’s blonde curls.
‘She’s the image of you,’ Chloë said. ‘Like a mini-me.’
Laura shrugged and looked back to the pitch, where Danny was about to kick a penalty. The ball sailed over the goal posts. Laura jumped up to cheer. ‘Did you see that?’ she squealed. ‘He’s amazing.’
‘I think someone’s still got a crush.’ Amber placed her arm on Laura’s. ‘You really need to focus on someone else. He’s a lost cause.’
‘Why?’ Chloë challenged her.
‘Do I have to spell it out?’ Amber pointed to Jody. ‘He’s not into other people’s kids.’
Laura willed herself not to smack Amber’s bitchy face.
‘Well, I think he still fancies Laura.’ Chloë smiled at her best friend.
‘Frank looks amazing.’ Hayley sighed. She had been obsessed with Frank since she had first set eyes on him in college. She had spent the last eight months blushing every time she saw him and becoming either mute or talking incessantly whenever he said hello to her.
Laura shook her head. ‘Honestly, Hayley, you’re better off without him. He’s a slut, determined to shag his way through college.’
‘I know, but I can’t help myself.’
The match ended and the girls headed to the campus bar where everyone was meeting up. Thankfully, Jody fell asleep in her buggy. Laura pushed her into a corner and went to get a drink. When the team arrived in, everyone cheered their victory.
Frank came straight over to Laura. ‘What the hell is Jody doing in here?’ he barked.
‘Mum went out so I got lumped with her.’
‘You need to take her home. This is no place for a baby.’
‘She’s fine – she’s asleep. I’m only staying for a bit.’
Before they could argue any further, Hayley came over. ‘Hi, Frank, you were brilliant today,’ she gushed.
‘Thanks.’
Hayley went a deep shade of red. ‘So, how are you?’
‘Great.’ Frank started to walk away.
Hayley, emboldened by beer, blocked his way. ‘How are you feeling? I mean, you must have a sore arm – I saw you getting stood on in the match. Is it sore? Does it hurt? Are you in pain?’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘You look really fit. Have you been working out?’
Frank sighed. ‘Yes, I have. The team trains three times a week.’
‘Oh, right, yeah, I knew that. Of course. So, what are you doing? What are your plans for, like, the rest of the day and stuff?’
‘Well, I’m going up to the bar – if I can get past you that is – to get another pint and then I intend to chat up the fox in the red mini-skirt and, hopefully, all going well, shag her senseless.’
Hayley froze.
Laura grabbed Frank’s arm and pulled him to one side. ‘There was no need for that.’
He shrugged. ‘She asked me what my plans were. I was just being honest.’
<
br /> ‘A bit too honest,’ Laura retorted. ‘Come on, you know she fancies you, God only knows why.’
‘She’s certifiable,’ Frank said. ‘She follows me around every day asking me how I am, how training’s going, how I’m feeling. She needs to be sectioned.’
‘She’s a really sweet person.’
‘She’s a stalker.’
‘She’s my friend.’
‘As her friend, you should tell her it ain’t gonna happen. I’m not interested in having sex with someone whose arse is twice as big as mine.’
‘That’s really mean and, anyway, she’s not like that. She’s quite a prude.’
‘You mean she’s a virgin.’
‘She’s saving herself for the right guy.’
‘With an arse that size she might be waiting a while.’
Danny came over and handed Frank a pint.
‘I need this badly.’ Frank knocked it back. ‘My stalker’s here.’
Danny grinned. ‘She just told me how lucky I was to play on the same team as the one and only Frank Fletcher.’
They all laughed.
‘Hey, Danny, well played today,’ Laura said, still giggling.
‘Thanks. Nice T-shirt.’
Laura was thrilled he’d noticed. ‘Thanks, so are you –’
A wail cut through the noisy bar. Laura cursed under her breath.
‘What’s that?’ Danny asked.
‘It’s Jody.’ Frank rushed over to her and lifted her out of the buggy.
‘Ank, Ank,’ she said, giving him a toothy smile.
‘How’s my girl?’ He kissed her and threw her into the air. She squeaked with delight.
Hayley appeared at his side. ‘You’re so amazing with babies. You’re going to be an incredible dad some day. She loves you.’
Frank winked. ‘She’s only human.’
Hayley blushed again. ‘Would you like to have children?’
‘I’m not into procreation, I’m into sex. Dirty, raunchy, any-way-I-can-get-it sex. So, unless you fancy coming into the jacks for a quick shag, move aside.’
Hayley gripped his arm. ‘Don’t you think sex should be about two people who love each other connecting physically?’
This Child of Mine Page 5
