9 Months Trilogy: A Novel of Horror and Suspense

by Matt Shaw

  Shit, have I blown it.

  “Strange...”

  “Disappointing... he took off when he found out Jessica was pregnant and we haven’t heard from him since.”

  John laughed, “You sure Bryan didn’t kill him?”

  Not Bryan.... me.

  John noticed I didn’t laugh and continued, “I’d be having serious words with any lad who got our daughter pregnant!”

  “He seemed like a nice lad, we were happy for them.”

  Not really a lie. We were happy for them. We just weren’t happy when Jessica took it upon herself to want an abortion.

  “So he isn’t with you then?”

  I shook my head, “We’ve been chatting to his parents about it all.... asked them to keep us posted. Look, listen.... I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them Jessica’s pregnant.”

  “Oh?”

  “Given the circumstances, I just think it would upset them more. I’m sure when Darren decides to finally show his face, he’ll tell them but - at the moment - I think they need to concentrate on finding out where he’s hiding.”

  “Oh, for sure. I agree. Probably scared by the thought of suddenly going from being a teenager to a father.”

  “I know I would be.” Another lie. I would have loved it.

  “So where are you guys living at the moment?”

  What’s with all the fucking questions?

  “We moved out to the country - get away from it all for a while.”

  “Didn’t even notice your house go on the market.”

  “It’s not yet - we’re thinking about renting it out....”

  “And Bryan? How’s he? He still owes me that beer....”

  “Bryan’s Bryan....”

  Just not as lively anymore.

  “Still working hard then?”

  “You know it. Anyway, sorry, Jessica’s at home waiting for me....”

  “Oh, sure.... sorry.... it was nice catching up - you’ll have to pop round soon, or perhaps we can do a fly-by after the baby is born?”

  “Yeah, we’d like that.” Another lie.

  Even when everything was okay, we didn’t enjoy talking to John. A nosey neighbour, always borrowing stuff which you’d then have to pester him to get back...

  I struggled to get the heavy trolley moving again...

  “Did you want a hand to the car?” he asked as I stumbled off.

  “I’ve got it, thank you.... see you around.”

  He nodded and walked away, in the opposite direction.

  Next time I come shopping - I’m going to the next town. That could have ruined everything. It still could. All it needs is him to have a chat with Darren’s parents and he’ll realise we were lying about talking to them. That, in itself, would be enough to raise questions.

  Fuck.

  As I walked out of the shopping centre, towards the car-park, I gave a final look behind me - just to make sure John wasn’t following.

  All clear.

  Thank fuck.

  * * * * *

  Never been so grateful to be home.

  Bumping into John shook me up. For the first time, in a long time, I felt normal when I was shopping for the baby. I felt as though nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect. For the briefest of times, I felt as though I were part of a happy family again. Even when I put the credit card through the till, for the last time, I was thinking how upset Bryan would be at the amount of money I had spent. The briefest of thoughts.

  John shattered my illusion and brought me crashing back down to reality.

  I opened the front door and stepped in, bringing in the first of the shopping.

  Bags down, I stopped and listened for any signs of movement from upstairs.

  Everything is okay.

  I can hear her walking around upstairs. I wonder if she wants to see the bits I’ve bought for the baby. Probably not. And, even if she says she is interested... probably a lie.

  All these weeks.... months.... I still can’t trust her.

  I wish I could.

  The constant smell of Bryan reminding me I can’t trust her.

  I turned around and walked back to the car, to fetch the rest of the shopping. I can’t believe how much I purchased! The next question is - what to do with it all?

  For now, I choose to leave it all in the lounge. In one corner of the room is piles of baby formula. I doubt very much that Jessica will want to breast-feed. In another corner of the room, piles of baby clothing. A crib in the other corner - I don’t know where to set it up; I guess it will have to go in my room. I couldn’t trust Jessica with the newborn.

  And then of course there’s the baby bouncer, teddy-bears and other bits and bobs.... other bits and bobs which were simply too adorable to leave behind.

  With the car finally unloaded and everything in the lounge, I crash on one of the sofas and survey the damage. The calm before the storm. We’re getting to the end of this story and the beginning of another.

  I’m happy, yet nervous.

  I still haven’t thought about how to end it. Do we stay in this house? I can’t put it on the market.... not with Bryan and Darren down in the cellar. Move away? Burn the house down to the ground to ensure no one can move in and live here? I can’t be sure the remains won’t be found, still. And with Darren in various bits and pieces downstairs - they’ll know it wasn’t the fire which killed him.

  Thinking like that... that makes things easier.

  Clearer.

  We’ll have to stay here.

  The old house - what I said to John... that would work. Rent the house out and live off the money. Would that be enough? It’ll have to be enough. I don’t have a choice. It would be easier if I could claim on Bryan’s life insurance but.... no.... no one can know he’s dead.

  Mild panic washes through me.

  The thought of raising the baby and living here.... limited money.

  It’s going to be hard.

  Really hard.

  But then, thoughts of the baby...

  Everything will be fine.

  3.

  Going to sleep is harder - the closer I get to the inevitable.

  I’m scared.

  Scared for the pain I’m going to go through, when I do give birth.

  Scared for what’s going to happen after I’ve given birth.

  I still can’t see a happy ending and it scares me. Double the worry. You’d think mum would go some way to try and make me feel better about the situation. If not for my benefit - for the benefit of the baby.

  As the days go on, I can feel the baby moving more frequently. I’ve heard people say it’s a wonderful feeling, to feel your baby inside of you... but, I disagree, I think it’s horrible. One of the worst feelings. I hate it.

  Not only does it feel weird.... it’s also a reminder of what’s to come.

  Part of me... part of me doesn’t want this baby to come out. At least, with it in me, I know I’m safe. I know she won’t do anything to hurt the baby.

  I wonder, can I just cross my legs?

  Doubtful.

  The baby is restless tonight. My stomach hurts and I feel.... funny. A strange feeling. I sat up and climbed from the bed, hopeful that stretching my legs will help. It doesn’t.

  So tired.

  I’d give anything to sleep, right now.

  Anything.

  I feel like I haven’t slept for months.

  So tired.

  No idea what the time is, I turned the television on - hoping it will distract me from the discomfort I’m feeling.

  Whatever shit is on the television; it’s not fucking helping.

  * * * * *

  She’s having another restless night, in the room next door. She should stay in bed, she’ll need her strength over the next few weeks or so. It doesn’t bother me.... it’s only her who’ll suffer in the long run and, it’s not as though she disturbed me - I haven’t made it to bed, yet.

  I’m still awake - playing with the cot which took me half a day
to build.

  Bastard thing.

  It looks good, though. Now it’s set up. It looks good and I feel proud of myself for putting it together. Normally, this is Bryan’s job. I’d just come along, after he’d put it together, to put the bedding into it.... and the toys. It has to have toys in there; brightly coloured cuddly bits and pieces.

  I think the baby will be happy here.

  When everything else is taken care of.

  “Mum!”

  Did she call out for me?

  Was that the television?

  I moved across the bedroom, to the wall which separated our rooms. My ear pressed against it....

  It was the television.

  I think.

  “Mum!!!”

  No, it wasn’t. Definitely Jessica!

  I ran out of the bedroom and down the hallway to Jessica’s room. Slid the lock’s bolt across and swung the door open. There she was - clutching her stomach, a puddle of water on the floor.

  This is it.

  Finally.

  I rushed over to her side and helped her back onto the bed.

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her, “I’m here.”

  For the first time, in as long as I can remember, she smiled at me.

  A genuine smile.

  I smiled back. It’s only now, now it’s finally happening, that I realise just how ill-prepared she is for what’s about to come. After all she’s been through, I honestly hope it’s an easy delivery.

  “Lay down,” I told her as I slid her underwear off.

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  I smiled at her again. I hope she can see it’s a real heart-felt smile, “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere...”

  She smiled again - hopefully having taken a little comfort from my words.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” I promised.

  And everything will be okay, I’m not about to lose another baby. I can’t lose another one. I can’t.

  I can’t and I won’t.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  First things first - I need to show her how best to breathe through the pain.

  “I’m scared!” she said again, a little more panic in the sound of her voice.

  “Listen to me. It’s perfectly normal to feel nervous right now... but it’s fine. I promise. Women have been giving birth since the start of time - it’ll be fine...”

  She looked at me, horror in her eyes, “But it wasn’t for you and dad....”

  Ignore it.

  Don’t dwell about what happened.

  “It’ll be fine....” I hoped.

  I prayed she couldn’t see the uncertainty in my eyes.

  “How far apart are your contractions?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Okay, your uterus will be tightening every so often now... it’s a pain that comes from nowhere and lasts a few seconds.... maybe even a minute.... and then it disappears.... how often does this pain come and go?”

  “I don’t know.... I don’t know...”

  Panic in her voice.

  “Try and remain calm... it’s all perfectly normal.... I promise.... try and think for me...”

  Another one hit her and her face contorted from the pain....

  “Ssh, ssh... it’s okay, breathe.... Just like I showed you....”

  I showed her again. This time did it with her.

  “Please make it stop,” she said.

  “I wish I could, honey, I wish I could....”

  Another contraction... they’re close...

  “It feels like I have a ribbon around my waist and it keeps getting tightened,” she said when the next contraction subsided.

  “It’s okay, you’re doing great.... it’s perfectly normal.”

  I wonder how long she’s been in discomfort for. Labour doesn’t come on this quickly and so intently, usually. She probably didn’t realise, just thought the pain at the beginning, was down to stress and normal pregnancy issues. She probably had no clue she was going into labour.

  I bet she regrets saying she didn’t want the baby now, kicking-starting this catastrophic turn of events. Everything would be fine now - she’d be on the way to hospital. Maybe, she’d already be there - a friendly midwife offering her the choice of medications to help ease the pain.

  It’s true I do feel sorry for her but, this is her fault.

  She chose this route.

  For her sake, and the sake of the baby, I just hope it’s quick.

  “I stood up....”

  Panic all over her face, “Where are you going? Please, don’t leave me.... I’m sorry.... I’m sorry.... Please....”

  Her sentence cut short by another contraction.

  “It’s okay, I’ll be right back,” I promised her.

  I walked from the room, a quick pace, to the bathroom. Warm water in the sink and two generous handfuls of soap, I washed my hands vigorously. In my mind, I’m not just cleaning them for what’s to come - I’m washing away the sinful things these hands have done.

  Soiled hands will not touch this newborn baby.

  I’m not having it tainted as soon as it comes into the world.

  This baby will be pure and I want to ensure it remains that way.

  I emptied the water from the sink before filling it back up with more clean, warm water; ready to give the baby a clean. Once the sink was full, I twisted the tap - stopping the flow - before I walked back to Jessica who was continuing to breath in the way I recommended.

  I’m ready now.

  Having lost my child, I dropped everything to re-train as a nurse. I’m ready for this.

  I hope Jessica is.

  I moved to position myself between her legs so I could check how far her cervix had dilated. At a guess, I’d say seven centimetres.

  The baby is close.

  I looked up to Jessica. Bless, she looks so tired already.

  With a reassuring smile I asked, “Are you ready to bring a baby into the world?”

  4.

  Tired and sore. And...

  Empty?

  I feel strange.

  Unnatural.

  A piece of me is missing.

  Tearful.

  Happy?

  I’m not sure. My hormones are all over the place.

  At least it’s over and done with.

  Finished.

  I feel like a train has hit me.

  Messy.

  Mum took the baby straight into the other room, before I could really get a chance to see it. There was silence to start off with. I called out to her to ask what was happening but she didn’t reply. The house stayed silent. And then, the silence shattered by the cries of a newborn baby.

  My newborn baby.

  I did it.

  I’m a mum.

  The crying continued for about ten minutes before it stopped and silence filled the house again. I’m guessing mum got the infant to sleep.

  Guessing.

  Not guessing.

  She did get the baby to sleep.

  She wouldn’t hurt the child.

  My child.

  She wouldn’t have come all this way to hurt it or let anything happen to it.

  I know she wouldn’t.

  That much I am sure of.

  I shut my eyes for a only a minute.

  So tired.

  The bedroom door was pushed open, quietly, and there, in the doorway, was mum - holding onto the baby.

  My baby.

  Wrapped in a small blue blanket.

  “Ssh,” said mum, as she walked towards me. She was smiling - the first real, genuine, happy smile I’ve seen on her face for a very, very long time. I felt my eyes well up. “Well done,” she whispered. She sat on the bed next to me and showed me, for the first time, my little baby.