by Vivien Brown
***
I couldn’t face giving Rosie a proper funeral. I’d seen those tiny white coffins before, being carried into churches, the parents insisting everyone wore bright colours, nothing black and gloomy. But how could it not be black and gloomy? My baby was dead. And who would we invite? It wasn’t as if anyone had known her. Not even us. So she was cremated, privately, and we scattered her ashes in our own garden, and Dan planted a rose, a beautiful pure-white rose, one that would grow up the fence and entwine itself into the very fabric of the garden, as she had entwined herself in our hearts. I didn’t know then if it would be enough, if later I might regret not making more of a ceremony of it, but it felt right at the time.
I visited the others in the hospital all the time, feeding, changing, holding them, waiting for the doctors to decide they were ready to go home, then heading back to eat, have a bath and fall into bed and my restless Rosie-filled dreams, ready for it all to start again the next morning. Dan joined me whenever he could, but he had to get back to work, earning the money we so badly needed to survive, and that only helped me to feel more alone, as if the weight of it all was falling on me, and from some great invisible, unstoppable height.
Ollie caught a chest infection and for a few days we had to watch him struggling to breathe, Dan screwing his fists into tight white balls and walking about, restlessly, and me silently worrying myself sick that this baby would die too. But he fought it off. My only son; my Ollie. A real little fighter they had said, when he had been born, and they were right. The doctors said it was normal among premature babies to have problems with their lungs, but nothing felt very normal to me. It was all so hugely terrifying, so bafflingly new.
The babies took over my life. Their needs, their demands were all that really mattered now, and making sure they stayed healthy, avoided any more infection and kept on growing. Big and strong enough to fill the hole their sister had left behind.
They came home when they were eight weeks old, still so small, so frighteningly fragile, in three little car seats, all lined up in the people carrier Dan had found for us, second hand, and which was already piled full of baby stuff before our new life as a family had even begun. He drove carefully, taking corners like a cautious old-age pensioner out driving on a Sunday afternoon. And then the house wasn’t silent any more.
***
‘Kate, I’ve got some bad news.’ Dan had just come in from work and I was up to my eyes in washing, a trail of baby sick down my shoulder that had been there since lunchtime, but I hadn’t yet found the time or the inclination to wipe it away.
‘Then I don’t want to hear it. I don’t think I can cope with any more bad news. Not ever.’
‘Come on. Stop all that and sit down for a minute. You look done in.’
‘That’s because I am. Look, they’re asleep. All three of them, at the same time. Do you have any idea how rarely that happens? If I don’t sort out these bits now, I may not get the chance again for hours …’
‘Kate. Please. Remember what the health visitor said. When they rest, you rest. You have to look after yourself. Housework comes way down the list.’
‘They have to have clothes to wear, Dan. And so do you. You can’t go to work in a dirty shirt, can you?’
‘Then, ask your mum to help. She’s offered enough times.’
‘She does help. With the babies, anyway. Cuddling and feeding and changing nappies. And at least that gives me time to do all the other stuff.’
‘Seems the wrong way round to me, Kate. You should be spending time with the babies and getting to know them, while she does all the other stuff.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But at least she’s here. Which is more than can be said for you.’
‘Oh, come on. That’s unfair. Someone has to go out and earn the money, and I do what I can when I get home. You know I do.’
I could see the hurt in his eyes and I knew he was right. I was being unfair and I was worrying too much about keeping the house clean and ironing shirts, which would probably look perfectly acceptable if I just hung them up and let the creases fall out by themselves. ‘I’m sorry, Dan.’ I sank into a chair and dropped the little pile of damp baby vests onto the kitchen table. ‘It’s just all … well, so overwhelming. I had no idea I’d be so tired, that there’d be so much to do, that I wouldn’t get a moment to myself. Ever. I can’t remember when I last read a magazine or watched a TV programme from beginning to end or even properly blow-dried my hair.’
He ran his fingers up and down the back of my hand and along my arm. I waited for the tingles to run through me, but nothing happened. When had I last felt even a flicker of sexual desire? That night in Somerset, probably, and even then I had been too shattered to do anything about it. But perhaps sex was something we just had to put on the back burner for a while too, along with the ironing and the hoovering. The babies had to come first.
‘Kate, listen. I had a call from Goo Goo. The ad campaign … it isn’t going to happen, I’m afraid. Or, if it does, it won’t be with us in it.’
‘What? Why? I thought we were the perfect family, exactly what they were looking for?’
‘We were. But we’re not any more. It seems triplets aren’t quite as unusual as quads. Not as newsworthy.’
‘But we don’t have triplets!’
‘As far as they’re concerned, we do. Three babies is not the image they’re after. It seems it was four or nothing.’
‘But, Rosie …?’
‘They don’t give a shit about Rosie. According to them, we’ve broken the contract. If we can’t supply four babies, then the deal’s off.’
‘And the money? The thousands they promised us?’
‘There won’t be any money. We’re on our own again.’
I just stared at him, aware that my mouth had fallen open. ‘So, how will we manage?’
‘I’m not sure. Overtime. Or I could try for a promotion. But both options mean I’d be out of the house even more, leaving you on your own.’
‘Oh, Dan. No.’
‘You might have to rely even more on your mum. And Trevor …’
‘Trevor? Ask him for more money, you mean? We can’t do that, can we?’
‘No, of course not. I just meant that maybe he’d like to be a bit more involved. You know, be a proper granddad. Walk them to the park, that sort of thing. It doesn’t seem right to keep shutting him out, especially with your mum spending so much time here. And we do owe him, you know. Big time.’
‘But, Dan, these are our babies. Yours and mine. I don’t want to raise them on my own. Or with Mum and Trevor. I want to do it with you.’
‘I’m sorry, Kate. Really. But things will work out somehow. They usually do. And it will be okay. In the end.’
I lay my head on his shoulder and said nothing, just felt his body moving as he breathed, as an image of the old us floated through my head. The old carefree us, with nothing and no one to think about but ourselves. Had that really been only a year or so ago? And then one of the babies woke up and started howling. I wasn’t sure which one. I still hadn’t learned to tell them apart by their cries. What sort of a mother did that make me? Not that it mattered because, within seconds, they were all at it. All yelling together, like the Three Degrees on a bad day.
‘My turn,’ Dan said, slipping out of his work jacket and heading for the stairs. ‘I might as well do something useful for once. While I’m here.’
Chapter 28
Ollie, 2017
Ollie rolled up his sleeves and slapped another coat of paint onto the stable door, being careful not to breathe in any of the fumes and risk one of his annoying asthma attacks. Rehearsals were going well and Beth was clearly enjoying the whole process as much as he was, dipping into her annual leave allowance and taking a couple of afternoons off from the salon every week to take the kids through their paces, and dashing straight here after work on most of the other days to help out with all the behind-the-scenes stuff. Perhaps, for both of them, it had come at just
the right time, to take the focus off their failed love lives and let them concentrate their time and energy on something new.
He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in over a week and had even stopped his regular visits to the chess club. Since Granddad Trev had died, he’d played sporadically, never really enjoying it the way he felt he should. Chess was something they had always done together, sitting on either side of a fancy marble board, sometimes for hours at a time, and it had been Trev who’d taught him all the moves. He had to admit it was a bit too solitary and serious these days, not good for his frame of mind. It was time he did something with a bit more sociability about it. And a lot more fun. Thankfully, the school show seemed to have filled the void and was now taking up every minute of his spare time. Perhaps all those years of tactics and concentration, and having to plan several moves ahead, was actually coming in handy, because he was already feeling immensely proud of how it was all going, what they were managing to achieve. It was a good feeling.
‘How are you getting on with the costumes?’ he asked, hearing someone coming into the empty hall behind him and assuming it was Beth.
‘Ha! You won’t catch me with a needle and thread, mate.’
Ollie turned round and laughed. It was Sean Harper, the supply teacher over from Australia, who was standing in for the absent Mrs Carter until she’d had her baby. ‘Sorry, Sean, I thought you were someone else. My sister …’
‘Ah. Is that the pretty brunette with the very big hair? I’ve seen her around but I thought maybe she was your … er …’
‘What? Girlfriend? No, that position is currently vacant. Long story … No, Beth’s just here helping me out with the show. Much more her sort of thing than mine, although I have to admit I’m quite into it all now.’
‘You taking to the stage yourself, then?’
‘No! I’m not going that far. Other than just to welcome the audience, then I’m off back behind that curtain, where I belong. Let’s just say acting and me are not natural bedfellows!’
‘Right! Can’t say I blame you, mate. I just popped by to see if you needed help with anything, scenery-wise. The Head said you might need a hand, and I’m quite good with a hammer and nails! Happy to leave the sewing side of things to your sister, though, obviously!’
‘Thanks, Sean. It’s the manger, you know, the crib thing I was going to tackle next. Do you think you could do anything with that lot over there?’ He pointed to a pile of wood and a large bag of straw, donated by one of the parents. ‘I don’t have any kind of instructions, so it’s just make it up as you go along, really. Or you can take over the painting if you prefer.’
‘No, the manger’s fine. Not worth two of us getting covered in the green stuff!’ He pointed to the large smear of green paint that Ollie hadn’t noticed was running right down his sleeve, walked over to the wood and picked up a few pieces. ‘I like a bit of a challenge. Got any tools?’
‘In my bag, over by the door.’ Ollie rubbed uselessly at his sleeve with the palm of his hand. ‘Oh, and Sean …?
‘Yeah?’
‘My sister. She’s single, if you’re interested. Only you did happen to mention you thought she was pretty.’
‘Oh, right. Okay.’ He’d turned his back so Ollie couldn’t judge his reaction. ‘I’ll bear that in mind!’
When Beth arrived five minutes later, she was puffing like a train. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said, banging the door back hard against the wall, dropping a huge carrier bag on the floor and sinking into a chair. ‘Didn’t mean to be so late, but I just couldn’t get rid of my last lady. A bit more trimmed off here, a reshaping of the fringe there, and was the colour quite right, did I think? God, I don’t why I do it sometimes. Oh!’ She stopped talking when she spotted Sean. ‘Sorry, Ollie. I thought you were on your own.’
Ollie smiled. Oh, he did like to see Beth thrown off balance sometimes, her cheeks reddening like a pair of cherries.
‘Don’t mind me.’ Sean put his saw down, plucked a strand of straw from his hair and came over to introduce himself. ‘Sean Harper. I work with your brother. And I’m having a go at making a manger, if you hadn’t already guessed.’
‘Hi, Sean. I’m Beth. Sorry about that. It’s sometimes hard to switch off after work. Hairdressing. Not all that exciting, I know, but it’s a living. Still, I’m here to help get this show sorted out, not just to moan about my clients. Honest!’
‘Oh, I don’t mind a bit of a moan. You should try working with some of the little horrors in my class! But I don’t suppose I should say that, should I?’
‘Probably not.’ Beth reached into her bag and hauled out a fluffy white bundle. ‘So, anyway, what do you think of this?’ She held the fabric up and gave it a shake. It was clearly meant to be a sheep, legs and all.
‘That’s fantastic! Did you make it?’ Sean seemed to have forgotten to return to his saw and seemed suddenly much more interested in the subject of nativity costumes than he had been earlier.
‘No, not me. One of the mums. Aren’t they great?’ She pulled another two identical costumes out of her bag. ‘There’s a lot of hidden talent out there when you go looking for it. So many parents have offered to help since we put up that notice on the board. I’ve even got someone having a go at putting a donkey together. You know, like a pantomime horse, which two kids can get inside. And Ollie says he’s got just the right boys to take on the role.’
‘Let me guess,’ Sean said. ‘The Higgins twins!’
‘Ha! Great minds think alike.’ Ollie laughed.
‘They’ll be perfect for it. Can’t think of anyone better!’
‘Now I am curious.’ Beth laughed. ‘I can’t wait to meet them.’
‘Just as soon as the costume’s ready, you will. I’m not sure we can actually risk sitting our Mary on top, though. It’ll only need one of them to start giggling and she’ll fall off.’
‘And we can’t have that, can we? Health and safety and all that …’ Sean said, putting on a serious voice.
‘Especially in her condition,’ Ollie chipped in, sticking out his belly as if he was nine months gone, and all three of them started giggling.
‘This show is going to be so much fun,’ Beth said. Ollie noticed that her hand was resting on Sean’s arm, as if to steady herself as she laughed, which was a bit odd, seeing as she was still sitting down.
‘Right, come on, you two. Things to be done. Let’s give it an hour or so, then I suggest we adjourn to the pub. My treat, to say thank you for your help and to welcome you on board, Sean. I don’t know how I’d manage this thing without people like you two.’
‘Okay, boss, that sounds great.’ Sean went back to his wood and started sawing again. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Already the bones of a crib were in evidence.
‘Pub?’ Beth whispered.
‘I’m not drinking, Beth, don’t worry. I just fancy a night out and something to eat. No booze, I promise. Unless you count the steak and ale pie, of course, but I don’t suppose there’s an awful lot of ale in that.’
‘Sorry. I don’t mean to be bossy.’
‘It’s fine. It’s probably just what I need. Someone keeping an eye on me, making sure I stay on the straight and narrow.’
‘My thoughts exactly! And Sean? Where did he come from?’
‘Australia!’
‘Yeah, the accent’s a bit of a giveaway, but you know what I meant.’
‘Course I did. He’s our new supply teacher. Came and asked if he could help, so I could hardly say no. And he seems like a good bloke. Don’t you agree?’
From the way her eyes were following the guy, he had a pretty good idea that she did. It was time Beth met someone new, after what that scumbag Jake had done, and he could definitely detect a few tentative sparks. Shame Sean was only in the country for a year, so any long-term matchmaking was out of the question, but at least she hadn’t jumped down his throat and said no to a trip to the pub.
He’d have to eat with them, of course, as the
whole thing had been his idea. The chicken leg he had left thawing in his fridge for tea would just have to wait for another night. But he was sure he could come up with some excuse to leave early. After that, it would be up to them.
***
Ollie lay on his bed and gazed up at the three little wooden crosses on the wall. For some strange reason a vision of Granddad Trev came into his head, holding a saw in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. Sometimes he found it hard to remember the old man’s face, but he would always remember the things he’d taught him. His love of chess and having a go at making things. And what it meant to feel that close to another human being that you could just enjoy being together and sharing things, without even having to talk. He’d had that with Laura too …
Watching Beth and Sean so easy in each other’s company seemed to have brought Laura back into his thoughts. Not that she had ever really left them. He still missed that feeling of being half of a couple, having someone there for him, but as time dragged on her loss no longer felt quite so achingly raw. He hoped that she was okay, wherever she was. And that she was happy.
Being apart probably made some sort of sense, especially as being together just hadn’t worked. Not after baby number three, with the grief so huge and overpowering they could almost touch it. For him, at least, those feelings had subsided a bit now, or maybe he’d drowned them in all those gallons of whiskey he must have got through after she left. At least he found he could wake up and get himself off to work now without the memory of it all leaping instantly into his head the second he opened his eyes. Sometimes it would still hit him, though, at unexpected moments during his day. Knowing that his babies were lost, Laura gone, his life changed for ever. But he also knew now that there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing but let life roll along and take him with it, see where it took him. The answer to it all, if there was one, was certainly not going to leap up at him from the bottom of a bottle.
