Five Unforgivable Things
Page 33
Beth left a month ago for her big Australian adventure. I don’t think I have ever seen her so settled, so sure of anything. I miss her, but knowing she is happy helps with that, and she’ll be back. Or says she will. Only time will tell.
It’s what we want for our children, though, isn’t it? For them to be happy. And healthy. I couldn’t give you that. You were the one who got away, and for that I will always be sorry.
I opened your memory box today. I hadn’t done that in such a long time. I looked at your photo, held those tiny impressions of your feet, and for once I didn’t cry. Then I put the lid back on and pushed it all away, to the back of the wardrobe.
I failed you, I know that, and nothing I do will ever bring you back to me, but you will live on, always, I promise. Not in that stale old box that conjures up only images of a desperately silent hospital room and floods of unstoppable tears, but in the glorious pure-white roses that grow and flourish, ever more beautiful year on year, curling their way into all the little nooks and crannies of our old garden fence. And, of course, for ever in my heart.
I don’t think I will need to talk to you quite so often now, sweetheart. So, I think it’s time to let you go. It’s time to concentrate on the here and now, and on what is yet to come. Time to put the past behind me, to forgive, and forget, and to start all over again. Time I concentrated on talking – properly talking – to your dad. While I still can.
Rest in peace now, beneath the roses, and be the baby you still are, and always will be. Sleep well, my precious Rosie, my little angel. Until we meet again.
THE END
Acknowledgements
As an IVF patient in the late eighties, having already undergone years of infertility investigations and a traumatic ectopic pregnancy, I came across a lot of would-be parents just like me, all struggling to cope with the disappointment, discomfort and despair as yet another painful and emotional treatment cycle ended in failure.
Sadly, with IVF success rates of only around 20% at best, and time ticking away, many of those patients – already well into their thirties or beyond, either too old for free NHS help or stuck in a long waiting list, and often with no choice but to pay for private treatment – were destined never to have the baby they so desperately wanted. Yet, just like Kate and Dan in this novel, they kept on trying, taking enormous risks and throwing every ounce of energy, emotion and willpower, and every last penny they had, into having ‘just one more go’, unprepared and unwilling to give up hope.
In the end, I was lucky. My own bumpy road through the IVF process – with a total of 43 eggs collected and 24 of those transferred as embryos into my womb over the course of five cycles (seven at once on one occasion) – led to the birth of twin girls, but it could have ended so differently and I can’t help wondering what if…
I couldn’t write a book like this without remembering those emotional and heart breaking times, or of taking the opportunity to thank the dedicated doctors, embryologists and nurses at the Humana Wellington Hospital’s infertility clinic in St John’s Wood who looked after me so well, and especially the pioneering Professor Ian Craft (responsible for Europe’s first ever IVF twins and many other incredible breakthroughs) and his then deputy Dr Peter Brinsden, both so passionate about the incredible work they were doing. Without them I would be a very different person today. I would have no children and no grandchildren, and my life would inevitably have taken a much sadder and emptier path.
IVF research and practice have come a long way in the intervening years. New drugs and techniques have been developed, and far more restrictive limits placed on the number of embryos that can be used. National Health Service funding remains a contentious hit-and-miss issue, often governed by geography rather than need, and private clinics are far from cheap but, on the plus side, success rates have increased significantly and the days of unexpected multiple births and terrible ‘selective reduction’ choices are long gone.
So I’d like to give a very special mention to all those around the world who have bravely set out on the perilous IVF journey, and to the estimated 6.5 million children born as a result of IVF and its associated procedures since Lesley and John Brown and their baby Louise Joy paved the way in 1978. I also want to say ‘Well done’ to Erin and Louisa – young ladies who I have known and cared about for a long time. Having shared their infertility stories with me, I am so pleased that they have both since been blessed with beautiful IVF babies. And, yes, they only had one each! Welcome to the world, Nathaniel and Jemima.
And welcome too to my second granddaughter, Olivia, who arrived just as this book was going through its final editing stages, helping (along with her big sister Penny) to prove that the IVF babies born out of all that early experimentation, intrusion and risk can, and do, grow up to have healthy babies of their own, and that infertility is rarely in any way hereditary.
As ever, there are lots of people I need to thank for supporting and encouraging me in my writing life, and especially through the writing of this novel. My husband, Paul, of course, and my daughters, Laura and Vicky. My editor, Kate Bradley, who always knows the right things to say and manages to convince me that whatever I am writing is actually not half bad. Charlotte Ledger, and all at Harper Impulse, for producing such wonderful books and continuing to include me in their talented ‘team’ of authors. The members of Phrase Writers, my local writers’ group in Hillingdon, real friends who are always there, offering endless enthusiasm, encouragement and cake. The SWWJ (the UK’s oldest organisation for women writers), where, as a long-standing member, I have always found support and friendship, and have met so many amazing and inspirational people. The Romantic Novelists’ Association, where I served my novel-writing apprenticeship, and in particular my little group of fellow author and short story writer pals, Elaine Everest, Elaine Roberts, Francesca Burgess, Natalie Kleinman and Sarah Stephenson, with whom I have shared so many meals, meetings, conferences, successes, secrets – and laughs – along the way. Onwards and upwards, girls!
I’d also like to say a big ‘Hello’ to Tiggy Hart, already an avid reader at the age of ten, who proudly tells everyone that her auntie (that’s me!) is a real author, and a sad ‘Goodbye’ to my friend Becca Ousby who was always asking for updates about my books but died earlier this year, at the tragically young age of thirty, before she got the chance to read this one. But then, heaven couldn’t possibly be heaven if it has no books, so you never know…
A special thank you also goes to author and tutor Simon Whaley who, in his article writing workshops, impresses upon his students the value of including a number in the title. Write about the 100 richest people in the world, the ten best English castles, or seven top tips for staying young and beautiful, and readers are instantly curious about who or what is included in the list. From the moment I told people the title of this novel they started trying to guess what the five unforgivable things might be! Anything that intrigues potential readers and makes them pick up a book and open the pages can only be a good thing.
And so to my readers… Half the joy of having written and published a novel is in knowing that someone, somewhere, is reading it. Oh, how I would love, totally out of the blue, to spot someone with a novel of mine on a beach or train, and see them smile, or maybe even cry, as they turn the pages. So, a great big thank you to all the fantastic readers and bloggers whose opinions, social media posts, reviews and recommendations helped to make my first novel, Lily Alone, a success. I do hope that you all enjoy this new one just as much.
Vivien Brown lives in Uxbridge, on the outskirts of London, with her husband and two cats. After a career in banking and accountancy and the birth of her twin daughters, she gave up working with numbers and moved into working with words and has never looked back.
In recent years, as a pre-school reading specialist and library storyteller, she has helped hundreds of young children to explore and enjoy books, has written extensively for pre-school and nursery magazines, and has had numerous short stor
ies and children’s poems published. Vivien loves reading romance novels and psychological thrillers (or better still, stories that combine the two), watching and taking part in TV quiz shows, and tackling really tricky cryptic crosswords, ideally in a sunny garden and with a bar of chocolate and an ice-cold Diet Pepsi close at hand.
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