by Julia Green
‘That doesn’t make it any better.’ Mia’s eyes were prickling with tears. ‘It’s worse, really. That he’d do that and not even like her.’
‘He might like her, but not mean to go out with her.’
‘Where is she, anyway? Has anyone heard from her?’
‘No.’
‘We don’t want to, anyway. Not now. We’re on your side.’
‘What was she wearing?’
‘That black dress. And her hair loose. She did look amazing.’
‘Tasha! She looked a right slapper, if you really want to know.’
‘Becky!’
‘Well, she did. And I shan’t forgive her. She knew you’d be gutted.’
‘She might not,’ Mia said quietly. ‘It’s not as if we’ve been together for months now.’
‘But you only have to use the tiniest bit of imagination to work it out.’
‘That’s precisely what she hasn’t got. Imagination. She only ever thinks about herself.’
‘Ah, look at Kai!’ Tasha said. ‘The way his mouth’s going in and out!’
‘Cute!’
‘He’s hungry.’
‘No, he isn’t.’
‘How do you know, Mia?’
‘I just do.’
‘Who’s revised for the French oral, then?’
‘You can’t revise for an oral exam.’
‘Yes, you can. Vocabulary and stuff. Practise saying things.’
Becky groaned. ‘My mum’ll make me when I get back tonight.’
‘Ali’s probably been revising all day,’ Siobhan giggled. ‘Je t’aime, tu m’aimes –’
‘Shut up!’ Becky hissed.
Mia sat at the kitchen table with Kai on her lap, head bent low so they wouldn’t see her tears. It wasn’t just about Will. It was all the talking that left her out. Already it was happening. They were moving on, away. Soon she’d be left far behind, her and Kai.
There was the sound of voices, and then the kitchen door pushed open and Billie, Tasha’s half-sister from London, came in. She held her youngest child straddled on her hip. The little girl’s black hair was all fluffed up at the back where she’d been sleeping on it. She sucked her thumb and looked with big eyes at the girls round the table.
Billie’s eyes lit up. ‘Mia! Your baby! Oh, look! So gorgeous. Tiny!’ She shifted the weight of her own child on to her lap as she sat down next to Mia. ‘Look, Lily. A newborn baby! Isn’t he lovely?’
Lily stretched out her hand and gently smoothed Kai’s head. Her brown skin made Kai’s look too pale, Mia thought. As if he were ill.
‘Baby,’ Lily said.
‘That’s right. What’s his name, Mia?’
‘Kai.’
‘Oh, that’s just gorgeous. I’ve never heard that before, that name.’
Mia flushed. ‘It means “man of the sea”.’
Billie laughed loudly. ‘Well, he’ll grow into that. And how’re you doing, Mia?’
‘OK. Mostly.’ Her voice sounded thin, pale like Kai’s skin, in contrast to Billie’s.
‘Make us tea, then, Tasha.’
Billie’s bright presence filled the kitchen. Having her there, and Lily, changed the balance. Mia started to feel more cheerful again. She settled down with her mug of tea to answer Billie’s questions about the birth, and so she hardly noticed when the other girls drifted away from the table, into the lounge, and started to watch the telly.
She was still there when Becky’s mother turned up to take them home. She and Becky chatted in the car, and Kai slept, and when she got home even Dad seemed in a better mood.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Crouched on the bathroom floor, Mia was changing Kai’s nappy. He kept kicking his legs: one little bare foot caught the edge of the old nappy and smeared poo over the clean Babygro.
‘Keep still!’ she hissed. She felt herself get hotter. How come he was being so difficult today? She grabbed his legs harder than she meant to and he whimpered.
At last she got him neatly parcelled up. She leaned back on her heels, breathed out with relief. She hadn’t meant to be so cross. She bent over him and blew raspberries on his tummy. His eyes lit up and his hands waved like tiny propellers. She left him there on the floor while she went to find another Babygro in the bedroom. The last clean one left in the drawer; she’d have to put the washing machine on before she left. And there wouldn’t be any spare clean things to take out with her. Why did everything have to be so complicated? It had taken hours already, just to get ready to catch a bus to Ashton to go to some stupid meeting.
She still had to feed him, and then, just as she set foot out of the door, you could guarantee he’d do another huge poo, or sick his feed up on his clothes, or hers. And how was she supposed to get herself ready, when he so hated to be left lying in his basket, or anywhere, when he was awake? She looked awful. Hadn’t washed her hair for days.
How did other people manage? They left the baby to cry, she supposed, or had someone to help hold him, or maybe they just didn’t go out.
Finally, they made it to the bus stop. She had to run the last bit, the bus already visible on the straight main road into Whitecross, and was out of breath by the time she got to the stop.
An elderly man waiting at the stop helped her fold the buggy up and carry it on to the bus. The driver tutted impatiently at them for taking so long. Mia held out the twenty-pound note from Mum.
‘No change,’ he said unhelpfully.
Mia held Kai against her shoulder. He was beginning to whimper. ‘It’s all I’ve got,’ she said.
Stalemate.
Behind her, the old man sighed, felt in his pocket and leaned forwards to Mia. ‘Here, have this.’ He handed her a two-pound coin.
‘Thanks. I’ll get change at the bus station. Pay you back.’
She turned back to the driver. ‘Child return to Ashton.’
‘You don’t pay till they’re five.’
‘No, for me.’
‘You what? How old are you?’
‘Sixteen.’
‘That’s full fare unless you’ve got a student pass. Which you haven’t.’
She’d forgotten. Hadn’t been on a bus since her sixteenth birthday. Humiliated, she sank into the front seat. The driver was still muttering under his breath: Bloody teenagers with babies. Whatever next? Mia stared, hard, out of the smeared window, trying not to hear. The lime trees were almost in flower. She could see the clusters of tight yellow buds.
The old man smiled at Kai every so often.
‘Keep the money,’ he told Mia when they got to Ashton bus station and he’d carried the buggy off for her. ‘Have it for the babby. It’s lucky to give money to a new babby.’
As soon as she got to the health centre she wished she hadn’t come. That smell. The beige carpet tiles, low-level chairs arranged in a square around the edges of the waiting area.
The woman at reception looked Mia up and down. ‘You want upstairs,’ she said. ‘Young Parents.’
Mia nodded.
How was she supposed to get upstairs with the buggy? She hovered, trying to think how to do it, when two girls in identical silver puffa jackets pushed through the swing doors. Mia watched them unstrap their babies in turn, fold and park up their buggies, still deep in conversation with each other, and go upstairs.
She did the same with Kai, but it was too hard to fold the buggy without anyone to hold him for her, and in the end she left it as it was, taking up too much space.
She hovered in the doorway, ready to bunk off: one look had told her that it was too like school. She’d be the new girl. They were all chatting in groups, drinking coffee, laughing. But Vicky had already spotted her.
‘Come on in, Mia. Coffee? Juice? Hello, Kai. Doesn’t he look wonderful? He’s so bright and alert!’ She beamed at Mia. ‘Well done! And for getting here.’
There was one girl standing by herself, looking out of the window. Long dark wavy hair, dark skin, a strikingly beautiful face. She held herself
aloof, as if she didn’t want to be there at all. Mia took it all in: the grace and poise of the girl, her straight back. Like a dancer, she thought. And then, That must be the girl Vicky mentioned before.
‘She’s been poorly,’ Vicky said quietly. ‘She doesn’t really know anyone here yet.’ She looked at her watch. ‘We ought to get started. It’s a time to chat, ask questions, find out how the other mums cope with things. That’s the most useful part, really. Sometimes we have a speaker, or I give a bit of information. We’ll do names, so you can get to know everyone.’
Mia sat down in one of the empty chairs. The girl still stood at the window, her baby in her arms, talking to him in a low voice.
‘Come and join us, Colleen. There’s a spare seat next to Mia,’ Vicky called out.
One of the other girls giggled. Mia watched Colleen turn, dazed, as if she’d forgotten where she was, why she was here. She flushed when she realized everyone was looking at her. Poor thing. Mia knew just how that felt. She tried to look sympathetic by smiling, but Colleen’s face stayed taut, suspicious.
Mia wished she hadn’t come. Sitting in a circle of chairs, going round saying names, yours, then the baby’s: excruciating. She blushed when it was her turn, expecting someone to giggle. Her voice sounded squeaky and pathetic. There were eight girls altogether. No one looked older than about eighteen. Jenny, Lisa, Rosie, Sharon… Colleen’s voice when she spoke was surprisingly clear; she’d pulled herself together.
Vicky announced the day’s topic: ‘Enjoying your baby’. A couple of the girls laughed.
‘Give us a break!’ someone called Mel squawked out.
Mia recognized her as one of the girls in the silver jackets. Vicky smiled, but she kept going. Mia’s thoughts drifted round the room. The babies who’d been placed on the carpet in the middle of the circle squirmed and wriggled like fat little grubs. Mia held a sleepy Kai on her lap; Colleen held her baby, too. He looked tiny. From time to time she whispered to him, reassuring him, explaining things. It reminded Mia of the way Vicky talked to the babies.
‘What’s his name? I didn’t catch it,’ Mia whispered to Colleen.
Vicky was saying something about babies loving books. She was winding up her talk now.
‘Isaac’ Still she didn’t smile.
Mel and Sharon started collecting up the cups.
‘Who wants another? Put the kettle on, someone,’ Mel called out.
The girls looked comfortable here, laughing and chatting about the babies, whether they’d got what they wanted.
‘I wanted a boy, but now I’m really glad I’ve got her. My Dave wanted a girl all the time.’
‘There’s nicer clothes for the girls, anyway, aren’t there?’
‘I hope the next one’s a boy, though.’
Next one? What planet was she on?
‘How old is yours?’ Mel was asking Mia.
‘Two and a bit weeks.’
‘Ahh. He’s sweet. Mine’s nearly six weeks, except he was early, so really he’s about four weeks, if you see what I mean. He’s already sleeping through. Is yours?’
She was trying to be kind, letting Mia in. But Mia felt, as she so often did, cross and resentful, not wanting to be part of the club. She knew girls like this at school, cosy and chatty and totally boring. Sort of middle-aged, even before they were sixteen. Having a boyfriend, having babies, that was all they wanted, they said. Though who was she to judge now?
Vicky had moved to an empty seat next to Colleen. They were talking in low voices and Vicky had taken the baby on to her lap. Colleen’s face looked cagey, almost afraid.
The baby was very small. Mia tried to remember what Vicky had said about Colleen before, something about her being ill and about not knowing anyone.
Vicky turned round. ‘Mia? Have you met Colleen yet?’
She nodded. ‘Sort of.’
‘Colleen’s only been once before to the group. So you’re both new! I’ll leave you to it.’
They watched Vicky walk over to the counter, where most of the other girls were now standing, spooning instant coffee into mugs, babies balanced on hips or over one arm like seasoned experts.
‘She’s nice, isn’t she?’ Mia said.
‘Yes.’
Mia rummaged for something else to say. It wasn’t like her to make such an effort. Especially when someone was trying so hard to get her to be friendly. Even if it was Vicky. But there was something about Colleen, something that made Mia persist. Her difference from the other girls, perhaps. The sense of a possible kindred spirit.
‘What did you think of it? The group?’ Mia asked.
‘Not much.’
‘Me neither. It’s just like school, isn’t it? PSHE lessons.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You know, personal and health social something or other. Schools have to do it. About sex and drugs and stuff. Doesn’t your school?’
‘I don’t go to school.’
‘Well, no, not now –’
‘Not before him, either. Well, only now and then. Here and there.’
There was an uncomfortable pause.
‘Lucky you,’ Mia said.
Colleen looked at her sharply.
‘I didn’t like school much,’ Mia explained.
‘Why not? Didn’t you like learning stuff?’ Colleen sounded shocked.
It was hard for Mia to explain. She didn’t think about school in terms of learning stuff. Being told what to do, being judged, criticized, failing. Being bored. Miserable. That was what school had been about for her.
‘Why didn’t you go to school, then?’ Mia asked instead.
Colleen shrugged. ‘Moving about too much.’
Mia remembered, suddenly, what Vicky had told her. Travellers. The fair.
Colleen’s face had closed up again.
The other girls were picking up their babies, wrestling them into little coats and zip-up bags, getting ready to leave.
‘There’s a cafe in the market I go to sometimes,’ Mia said. ‘Do you want to come?’
Colleen shook her head. ‘Got to go.’
Disappointed, Mia watched through the window as Colleen left the health centre and walked up the street. She lugged the baby in her arms wrapped round in an old woollen blanket. Every so often she stopped, said something to him, shifted him round. Mia watched till they were out of sight.
She put Kai back in the buggy and pushed it out into the damp street. What now? The whole afternoon stretched ahead. She headed for the market cafe by herself. At least it would be warm in there. She could get a burger or something, and feed Kai.
When she got there it was crowded with shoppers having all-day breakfasts. There was a large group of women on some sort of a day out, not the sort of women who normally ate there. Their voices were too loud, their clothes all wrong. Too smart, or fashionable, or something. They were laughing at one of the women for having chips, as if it were some sort of big deal. Mia fed Kai while she waited for her toasted sandwich, turned away from the other shoppers. She hated the way people tried to watch.
Afterwards, Mia went back through the precinct to the bus station. It was a long wait for a bus that went all the way to Whitecross. In the end, she got on one that dropped her off at Stonegate. She had to feed Kai sitting in the bus stop before she began the long walk the rest of the way home. She had to go along the main road almost all the way, and for a long stretch of it there wasn’t even a pavement. Cars had to swerve out past her and the buggy. Several blasted their horns as they zoomed past. Ignorant pigs!
She thought about Colleen again and felt cross with herself for not handling it better with her. It would have been nice to meet up again. She liked the way Colleen had talked to her baby. And the way she looked. And then remembering what Vicky had said about her, that she’d been travelling with the fair, well, that just made her more exciting, somehow. Someone different and interesting. And with a baby, like her. Perhaps another time. If she went to the group next week. Though she d
oubted that Colleen would go again. Perhaps Vicky would say something. Give her a phone number.
Dad was already back from school by the time Mia got home. She’d dawdled along the road once she’d got to the village, hoping she might see someone from school, but they must be finishing at odd times now that the exams had started. Kai slept in the buggy.
‘Everything all right?’ Dad looked up from the table and his pile of papers.
‘Yes.’
‘You look exhausted. What’ve you been up to today?’
‘That meeting in Ashton –. you know, with Vicky?’
‘Oh, yes. The young mums’ group.’
‘Young parents, actually. Not just mums.’
‘So how many fathers were there?’
‘Well, none, actually. But that’s not the point.’
‘Meet anyone nice?’ Dad asked half-heartedly.
‘Ish. One girl.’
Dad’s attention was back on the papers on the table.
‘Colleen, she’s called,’ Mia said.
‘Oh, yes?’ Dad frowned slightly.
‘From the fair. Travellers.’ That got his full attention.
‘Mia!’ Dad leaned forwards, head in hands.
‘What’s the matter now?’
‘The sort of unsuitable people you always want to get involved with. Please, Mia, do us all a favour.’
‘Us? What are you talking about? What do you mean unsuitable? Just because Colleen travels with the fair! Talk about narrow-minded!’
‘Hang on a minute, Mia. Stop overreacting.’
‘You’re the one overreacting. How can you begrudge me having one friend who might know something about what it’s like for me? In any case, I hardly even know her yet. You haven’t a clue, have you? You’re so old and sad.’
‘OK, leave it out. I don’t want an argument with you. Just take care, that’s all.’
‘You think I’m just a child! You even want to control who I’m friends with! You’d rather I was like you and had no friends at all!’
The old rage welled up inside. Mia wanted a proper argument. To be able to shout and slam doors. But Dad wasn’t having it.
‘How’s Kai been today?’ He’d changed tack. His voice softened as soon as he spoke about the baby. He even looked different.
