by Julia Green
‘And how are you feeling today, Mia?’ Vicky asked her, once the baby was settled.
‘Tired. But all right. It is getting better, I think.’
‘Good. Early days still, anyway. Take it easy, yes? But you don’t want to be on your own all the time. Any of your friends coming round today?’
‘Maybe, later,’ Mia said. ‘They’re going shopping after school.’
‘Must be nearly exam time?’
‘Yes. Next week, I think. Or the one after – I lose track.’
‘What will you do, do you think?’
Mia shook her head.
‘When you were still at school, what did you want to do?’
‘Nothing, really. That was the trouble. I don’t want to go to college or anything. Not like my sisters. So I’m a big disappointment, I guess. Useless at everything.’
Vicky frowned. ‘No, you’re not. Not at this, you’re not.’ She nodded her head at the calm, contented baby.
‘This doesn’t count. This is just one more mistake.’
‘Don’t say that! You don’t mean that! Your dad loves the baby. It’s obvious.’
‘Maybe. But it’s not what he wanted me to do, is it?’
‘Don’t start thinking like that, Mia. Concentrate on how well you’re doing now. You’re a really good mother. I should know. I get to see all sorts, I can tell you. Being young doesn’t mean you can’t do it well. And enjoy it. You’ve got a happy, healthy baby.’ She started to gather up her things. ‘I’ve got to get on now. I’m seeing Colleen next, in Ashton. The girl I told you about. I’ll tell her you might be there next Wednesday, shall I?’
Mia shrugged. ‘Dunno. Maybe.’ Talking about school had made her grumpy again.
‘Please. Try?’
‘OK.’
She stood on the front doorstep to watch Vicky drive off. The sun had moved round; it was shining through the tree, casting bright patterns on the grass. The bluebells in the long grass under the wall had opened out, a deep blue mist. She’d take the baby out into the garden later. The baby. She couldn’t keep thinking of him like that. He needed his name. She’d decide today.
She was still standing there when Becky’s mum turned up, a dish under one arm covered with a tea towel.
‘Such a lovely day, I walked!’ she called out to Mia. ‘You enjoying the sun, Mia?’
‘The health visitor just left.’ Mia frowned. She didn’t feel like seeing anyone else right now. Having to talk.
‘Oh, right. Good. Everything all right? Did your dad say I’d call?’
Mia nodded.
‘I’ve brought you some lunch. Vegetarian lasagne. You can keep it for supper if you’ve already eaten.’
Mia didn’t reply.
‘I’ll put it in the fridge for you.’
‘It’s OK. I’ll take it.’
‘No, you stay in the sun a bit longer. You look a bit peaky. How is Baby?’
Mia knew she was dying to see him. ‘He’s fine,’ she said. ‘Sleeping.’
‘Can I just have a tiny peep? I won’t wake him. And I’ll put this in the kitchen for you.’
Becky’s mum went inside; reluctantly Mia followed. From the sitting-room doorway she watched her peer into the wicker basket, disappointed not to be able to hold him.
Becky’s mum smiled at her. ‘How are you, love? Eating well, I hope. None of that dieting nonsense while you’re breastfeeding, eh? I remember it well. Always hungry. Not that I ever stopped eating for two.’ She laughed, and patted her round stomach, and Mia allowed herself a small smile back.
She was glad the room was tidy. And that she was up and dressed. Everything looked as if it was under control. No room for any gossip. Becky’s mum wouldn’t be nasty about it, but sometimes she just couldn’t stop herself talking. Telling everyone. A bit like Becky. Although Becky had been really brilliant about not telling anyone when Mia was first pregnant. A real friend.
‘Now, do you need any shopping? Got enough fruit and bread and milk?’
Mia nodded. Why didn’t she just go?
‘Oh! Look. He’s waking up!’ Becky’s mum leaned over the wicker basket, grinning and clucking. ‘What a little sweetie. Oh, he’s just the best! Such a tiny little love!’ She turned back towards Mia. ‘Can I pick him up?’
‘OK.’
At least she’d asked. Mia noticed how confidently Becky’s mum scooped up the baby, wrapped him in the blanket, held him cupped against her shoulder. He looked safe there. She couldn’t help comparing what it had been like seeing her own mother hold him, back in the hospital. How clumsy and uneasy Mum had been, how quickly she’d handed him back.
Becky’s mum loved babies. Becky had told her often enough. Why not make the most of it?
Mia looked longingly at the sunny garden. Just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. He’d been fed. Wasn’t crying.
Becky’s mum smiled at Mia. ‘Do you want a few minutes’ break from him? I’ll keep him happy while you have a bath or read a book or something. If you want.’
‘I need some air,’ Mia said. ‘I’ll just go down the lane for a bit. He’ll be all right, won’t he?’
A big grin spread across Becky’s mum’s face. ‘Of course. Don’t you worry. Go on, then, love. We’ll be fine, won’t we, little chap? And it’s a real treat for me!’ She patted the baby’s back gently, talked to him in baby talk. He seemed to like it.
Just for a little while, then. Mia kissed him goodbye.
The sunlight was so bright she had to screw up her eyes. It felt amazing, to walk away from the house and down the lane. Empty-handed. She’d head for the sea, of course.
The tide was out. It felt cooler here. A wind off the sea blew her hair back from her face. She tipped her face up, to feel the air and the sun; closed her eyes. The mew of gulls, the thin piping of oystercatchers, wind rustling dry grass. The suck and swallow of the waves dragging pebbles. She felt a huge weight drop away. She was still her. Mia.
She walked along the beach a little way, hunting out a flat boulder that had dried in the sun, just the right size for sitting on. She felt strangely light and empty. Her arms – free, nothing to hold. She scooped up a handful of gravelly sand, let it trickle through her fingers.
He’d be all right. It was only for a few minutes. Just to draw breath.
The list of names. She’d almost decided. Ceri or Kai. She’d know. It would come to her if she waited.
Sunlight flickered on the water. It was warm on her back, though her face was still cool. She moved her head, felt how stiff and tight the muscles were in her neck, her shoulders. She took a deep breath. And another. Closed her eyes. Inside her head she saw a silver bird, wings stretched out, soar in a clear blue sky. There was a sound too, like a seabird’s call. Kai, it called. Kai.
She woke from her daydream with a jolt. How long had she been there? A real voice was calling her name. She squinted her eyes against the light; the dark shape of a figure was stumbling along the foreshore towards her. Wind whipped his hair. It was him. She knew it instantly. She steeled herself for the meeting, but her heart thudded and her armpits prickled with sweat. How would he be? She’d not seen anything of him since that moment in the hospital. His abrupt departure.
‘Will! What are you doing here?’
‘Bunked off, didn’t I?’
Will, golden boy, predicted A grades in all ten GCSEs, bunking off school? .
‘Thought it was you. But I couldn’t quite believe – you know. That you’d be out,’ he said.
‘Makes it sound like I’ve been in prison or something.’ She had, sort of.
‘Where’s the – ?’
‘Baby?’
‘Yes.’
He couldn’t look at her directly; stood half-turned away, hands in his pockets, staring at the water.
‘Becky’s mum’s with him.’
‘Is he all right?’
‘What’s it to you?’
She saw her words sting him. She’d meant to hurt. Why should he get awa
y with it? He was the baby’s father and yet here he was, walking along the beach, doing exactly what he wanted. Nothing had changed for him. He’d done nothing to help her, nothing to make it any easier. All he’d thought about was himself. Even coming to the hospital like that, he’d only done that because of what Becky had said. Had just turned and left her there. Hadn’t even said goodbye.
He’d never have thought anything about it ever again, after she found she was pregnant last autumn. Let her get rid of it without another thought. She could still remember his words, when she said about the abortion. It’s not so terrible, is it? And then, after he heard that she’d walked out of the hospital, his complete horror that there would be a baby after all. He’d just avoided her. Mia had seen more of his mother, Annie, than she had of him.
But he hadn’t been seeing anyone else, Becky told her. And Mia had hoped – well, she should have known better than to hope, shouldn’t she?
Will picked up a handful of small pebbles and chucked them in the shallow water. They made a sound like gunshot.
Her anger died down again, coiled back to a small tight knot deep inside her. Too late, though. His mood had already turned cold: hands in pockets, staring out across the water as if there was something more interesting there than empty water, clouds, sky.
‘Sorry I said that.’ She said it through gritted teeth. ‘Will?’
His shoulders hunched.
‘It’s the truth,’ he said coldly. ‘It isn’t anything to do with me.’
His turned-away back infuriated her. He wouldn’t even face her. How cowardly was that?
‘I don’t think so.’ Mia’s voice was tight with fury now. ‘I think there’s a different truth, actually. Whether you want to hear it or not. The baby’s everything to do with you, that’s the real truth, isn’t it?’
There. It was out now. She’d said it. She’d blown it totally. So what? Better to speak out than keep it all pent up inside her. It was the truth.
He walked along the shore a little further, picked up another handful of pebbles, chucked them in. Kept his back to her.
Mia was on a roll now.
‘This is the first time I’ve been out,’ she said, ‘in over a week.’
Silence.
‘I’ve hardly had more than two hours’ sleep at a stretch.’
No answer.
‘That’s a kind of torture, isn’t it? Sleep deprivation. You’d know about that, wouldn’t you? I expect your mother writes letters about it to Amnesty International.’
Still he didn’t speak.
‘While you’ve been bunking off school and walking on the beach every morning for a week.’
She’d like to spit in his face, to shake his rigid, sulking body, force him to look at her, to see what was happening to her, to look her in the eyes. But just the thought of touching him turned her to jelly. Even though she was so angry she could hardly speak, she still longed for him to turn round, touch her, put his arms round her.
She’d have forgiven him everything. If it hadn’t been for Becky’s mum waiting for her at home, she’d even have asked him to come back with her. What kind of a mug did that make her? Doormat, Becky would say. Let him walk all over you.
But then it was easy enough to think that when it couldn’t happen.
Because if Becky’s mum hadn’t been there, she’d have had the baby with her now.
And that’s how it would always be now. Her-and-the-baby.
Will’s back was still turned away. Mia moved forwards, caught his arm, saw his flushed face. She’d make him think about it. What it meant. Her baby, who was also his, whether he liked it or not.
He pulled his arm away from her.
‘I’m going to call him Kai. It means “man of the sea”,’ Mia blurted out.
She could see sweat break out on his forehead. His fair hair was damp already from the sea spray.
‘So, what do you think?’
‘I’ve never heard of the name before,’ Will mumbled. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes, it does. Names do matter.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘You don’t like the name, do you?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think.’ He chucked another handful of stones into the sea. His face was closed to her, a mask.
There was no point in any of this, Mia thought. She had made everything worse. She turned away. ‘Got to get back.’
A white seabird drifting on the air currents above the bay whimpered and mewed like a baby. Her breasts felt tight. She’d start leaking soon.
She crunched back up the beach; wouldn’t allow herself to look back. Don’t think about him now. Leave him be. Keep hold of being angry with him. It’s easier that way.
She kicked at an empty Coke can and the sound of it banging into rock gave her a second of pleasure. What she’d really like to do was scream. Scream and scream till there was no breath left in her lungs.
Mia started to run as soon as she reached the lane. It was as if a thread was pulling her, winding her back in. The strangest feeling, deep in her body. She even imagined she heard the baby’s cry, long before it could be possible. Her T-shirt had two dark patches from leaking milk.
She flew through the gate. The front door was open on to the garden and Becky’s mum was standing in the doorway with the baby at her shoulder, patting his back and cooing and jiggling him, as he hiccuped his way through sobs. Mia found herself crying, too. She should never have left him. He’d no way of knowing she was ever coming back. He sobbed as if she’d gone forever.
‘He’s only just started crying, Mia. He was fine until just now! I expect he’s hungry.’
Mia wrenched off her sandy boots and then gathered the bundle into her arms.
Becky’s mum hovered anxiously. ‘The lasagne’s heating up in the oven. Ten more minutes and it’ll be ready. OK? Will you be all right, Mia? I’m sorry but I’ve got to get on now. I’m already late for work.’
‘Sorry. He’s just hungry. I shouldn’t have left him so long. I didn’t mean to.’ She looked up. Becky’s mum was still hovering, as if waiting for her to say something more. ‘Thank you for looking after him. Tell Becks to come round later.’
‘All right, love. Have a good afternoon. You’ll be all right? Sure?’
Mia nodded. Why couldn’t she just go away now? She needed to cry and cry. About leaving Kai. About Will. About the whole bloody mess.
Becky’s mum left.
‘I’m so sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry for leaving you.’ She nuzzled her face into the baby’s and his little tongue licked her nose. Her tears made his head damp. ‘But I found your name. I had to be away from you to think of it. You’re Kai. That’s who you are.’ She whispered the name into his ear over and over, as if it was a magic spell.
‘Kai’. One letter away from ‘Mia’. Close, but completely different. He could be whoever he was with a name like that.
The afternoon dragged by. Kai was unsettled. He grizzled and whimpered as soon as she went any distance from him. He needed to be held close, and fed, almost all the time. That was her fault, she knew, for leaving him like that. She wouldn’t do it again.
Mia kept watching the clock, listening out for the sound of voices and laughter coming up the path. She turned the television on, but the programmes jarred her nerves: ridiculous quiz shows, children’s cartoons. The jangling music made Kai’s limbs jerk as he dozed on her lap on the sofa.
The doorbell rang, finally, at six fifteen. Becky stood on the doorstep, smiling.
‘Where’s everyone else?’
‘Sorry, Mia. They’ve gone straight home. It’s just me.’
Typical. Couldn’t they make the slightest effort? Didn’t they understand how much it mattered to her? Especially Tasha.
She tried not to let her disappointment show too much. Faithful Becky was already in the kitchen, putting on the kettle, chatting about the day and the shopping.
‘So we ended up buying identical skirts! Well, ex
cept Ali. Then we went in Jigsaw, just to look, and they’ve got these absolutely beautiful tops, lined in silk. Ninety-six quid, can you believe it? For a top!’
‘I’ve decided on his name.’
‘You what?’
‘The baby’s name. Kai.’
Becky squealed. ‘Oh, it’s lovely.’
She leaned over the baby. ‘Hello, Kai. It’s perfect for him. I love it. It’s very unusual. Special. What does your dad think about it?’
‘He doesn’t know yet.’
‘Well, he’ll like it, won’t he?’
‘I saw Will, Becks.’
‘Where? He never came round?’
‘No, no – on the beach. Your mum looked after Kai for me and there he was. I didn’t expect him to be there.’
‘He’s not been in school all week. Is he ill?’
‘No. Bunking off. Must be catching.’
Becky giggled. ‘So? What did he say? Come on, tell me! Everything.’
‘I told him about Kai’s name. He doesn’t like it.’
‘Well – who cares? We love it, don’t we, Kai? What else?’
‘Nothing. We didn’t talk about anything. It was horrible. I got cross.’
Becky sighed. ‘Oh, Mia, you’re hopeless! And you still like him, don’t you?’
‘Yes. But it’s no good. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Or him.’ Mia kissed the top of Kai’s head.
‘He’s really stressed, Mia. Exams. Parents. You know what they’re like.’
He was stressed? Why did everyone think about it from his point of view? Even Becky! It was so unfair.
‘Forget about all that now, anyway. Let’s get some supper together.’ Becky started opening cupboards, looking in the fridge. ‘Blimey! It’s stacked full of stuff!’
‘Everyone keeps bringing meals round. All the mothers,’ Mia said. ‘Let’s have the rest of the lasagne. Your mum’s. You make a salad.’
Becky should be the one with the baby, not me, Mia thought. She was so sensible, so practical. She’d already come up with the brilliant idea of putting Kai in the baby sling to keep him quiet. He wouldn’t be put down in his basket this evening. Cried every time they tried.
