Baby Blue

by Julia Green

  Grudgingly, Mia answered him. ‘Kai’s fine. He’s had a good day. Now he’s sleeping in the buggy.’

  ‘Good. I’ll start supper in a minute, soon as I’ve finished marking this lot. You go and have a rest.’

  Mia took the phone from the hall and went through into the sitting room. She sank down on the sofa, dialled the number.

  ‘Becks?’

  ‘Mia! Did your dad say? I phoned earlier. Haven’t got your mobile number. Are you all right? I thought you might want to meet up. After school, Friday. Spend that money from your mum.’

  ‘Not Friday –. well, maybe. I might be in town earlier; I could stay on. If Kai’s OK. What time are you finishing?’

  ‘Normal time.’

  ‘How was the French exam?’

  Becky groaned. ‘Terrible. I mucked up.’

  ‘You always say that. You’ll be OK. You don’t need it, anyway. Not for Textiles and Fashion. Did you see Will?’

  ‘Not properly –. well –. you know. Not to talk to.’

  ‘Was she there?’

  ‘Ali? Yes.’

  ‘With him?’

  ‘Not really. Not so as you’d notice.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Just like normal. Nothing special between them. He’s probably regretting it already. Siobhan and Liam are definitely going out. She says he’s a really good kisser.’

  ‘I can’t imagine it. He’s always larking about –. you know. Not serious, ever. What does Matt think about it?’

  ‘How should I know? He’s hardly speaking to me. Shall we meet up, then?’

  ‘Probably. Yes. I’ll have my phone. I’ll give you the number. Just in case. Usual place?’

  Mia lay back against the sofa cushions. She could smell frying onions and red pepper. Dad was doing his stir-fry special. She still felt angry with him. How dare he say that stuff about her? Well, she’d show him. She’d make a point of seeing Colleen again now.

  Kai was still asleep in the buggy, parked in the hall. It could be an ordinary day, her lounging about, talking on the phone, arranging to meet up with the others. They’d probably be down at the bus stop later, deciding what to do. It would be light till nearly nine thirty. Maybe they’d take some cans down on the beach. Make a fire, even. Liam, Matt, Becky and Siobhan. Will.

  But she wouldn’t be there, would she? She’d be bathing Kai, and feeding him, and cuddling him to sleep, and then crawling into bed completely shattered, hoping for more than two hours’ sleep before he woke again, and fed again, and cried. And all night it would be like that, until he woke bright-eyed at five or six, ready for another day. How on earth was she going to bear it?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  On Friday morning, Mia got the bus into Ashton again. She pushed the buggy round the precinct for a bit, hoping she might bump into someone: Colleen, or someone from school, but there was no one she knew, just the usual dreary crowds of people trailing round shops, and a couple of blokes playing guitars, badly, and some old man talking loudly about Jesus. It didn’t feel like late May. The sky was overcast, and a cool wind whipped up small flurries of cigarette ends and discarded paper wrappers and dust. She thought about the park, where the fair camped each holiday. That was the sort of place Colleen might hang out. She’d know it well enough, from being with the fair, and there were benches to sit on. It was as good a place to go as any. Mia could sit on the swings, even, with Kai on her lap. Give him a taste of things to come. She’d always loved the swings as a little girl; that moment when you hang, high, at the top of the swing, before it free-falls back to earth. Eyes open, head back, your head full of sky and air.

  Her hunch was right. She found Colleen eventually in one of the wooden shelters in the park, overlooking the bit fenced off for young children, with bark chippings round slides and swings and a wooden construction for climbing over. It was beginning to rain. Colleen had her coat collar turned up; she looked numb with cold.

  Mia’s heart was beating fast. Perhaps Colleen wouldn’t want to speak again. Might not even recognize her from the Wednesday group.

  ‘Hi!’

  Colleen gave a small, shy smile. ‘It’s you, from Vicky’s thing, isn’t it?’

  ‘Mia. Yes.’

  ‘Want to sit down? It’s dry, just about.’

  ‘Thanks. Freezing, isn’t it?’

  ‘Better than inside, though. It does my head in sometimes.’

  ‘I know. Me too.’

  The rain fell more heavily. Colleen pulled a battered old pram closer, under the shelter.

  ‘You’ve got a pram, then,’ Mia said. ‘I wondered, on Wednesday, cos you were carrying him.’

  ‘It’s new. Well, not new, obviously. New to us.’

  It looked like something from a skip: a battered blue canvas thing on a metal frame. Colleen didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘From Vicky. One of her old mums who didn’t need it no more. She said it had done five of hers, but it’s still good enough for Isaac. He’s warm and dry, anyway.’

  And I’d thought my second-hand buggy was bad!

  Isaac began to whimper. Colleen fished a bottle of milk formula from her bag. ‘Wish I didn’t have to feed him this rubbish.’

  Mia didn’t know what to say.

  Colleen turned, her eyes fierce. ‘It’s not what I want, you know. It’s only cos I was ill.’

  They sat in silence while Colleen fed her baby with the bottle. She held him on her lap, tight against her, her jumper rucked up as if she were breastfeeding. Mia tried not to stare.

  ‘I want him to feel my skin still,’ Colleen said. ‘Even if he can’t have my milk.’

  ‘How old is he?’ Mia asked, when it seemed they’d finished the feed.

  ‘Seven weeks. I know he’s tiny. He wasn’t getting enough. But he’s putting on weight now. Vicky’s pleased with us.’

  ‘I read something,’ Mia said, ‘you know, about breastfeeding. You can start again, even if you stop. Even women who adopt babies can sometimes feed them. I know it sounds weird, but it’s in this book. I can lend it to you if you want.’ She saw the look on Colleen’s face and wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  They sat side by side in the wooden shelter, listening to the rain drumming on the roof, each with one hand on the buggy or pram, pushing them to and fro when the babies got fretful, like they’d seen other mothers do. Real mothers, Mia thought. Not like us. It’s like we’re just pretending.

  Mia could see droplets of water glistening on the chains for the swings; the mown grass held a fine skein of silver. From time to time, Colleen coughed.

  What could she say to stop Colleen just leaving again?

  ‘Why don’t we go to a cafe? We could warm up a bit.’

  ‘Well, if it’s not too expensive.’ Colleen sounded anxious.

  ‘I’ll pay, if you like. My mum gave me some money when she came down from Bristol at the weekend. She doesn’t see me very often. Giving me money makes her feel better.’

  Colleen laughed at that, and Mia felt relieved. She hadn’t blown it completely yet, then.

  ‘So you’re doing her a favour, really, taking her money off her?’ Colleen said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘You sound like you don’t like your mum much.’

  Mia shrugged. ‘S’pose. Her fault, though. She left, didn’t she?’

  Colleen looked at Mia, her face curious. ‘What do you mean, left?’

  ‘She left us, when I was little, six. My dad brought us up.’

  ‘Oh.’ Colleen stroked her baby’s head, smoothed the ruffled dark hair tenderly. ‘It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? Leaving.’

  Mia didn’t like to say what she thought. That it wasn’t so hard to imagine, not really. Not any more.

  ‘So, will you come to a cafe? If my mum pays?’

  ‘OK. You say where. I don’t know many places.’

  They found a table in the corner of the market cafe. It was warm and dry, at least, even though it stank of stale hot fat. They got the
babies out for a feed. The woman behind the counter warmed the half-drunk bottle for Colleen.

  ‘I’ve seen you before,’ the woman said to Mia. ‘You used to come in here a lot, didn’t you? And what have we got here?’ She leaned further over the counter. ‘You’ve been busy! He’s a bonny boy, isn’t he?’ the woman prattled on.

  She brought two plates of buttered toast over to their table. They had only ordered drinks.

  ‘You both look as if you need fattening up!’ she fussed. ‘Makes me feel old, seeing you with babies. You still look like kids yourselves!’

  Colleen seemed more friendly once she’d eaten something and warmed up. Mia wanted to ask her loads of things, stuff about the fair, and the baby and everything, but she daren’t. Not yet.

  It was nice having someone to be with, not just her and Kai. Not quite so lonely.

  It had stopped raining by the time they came out of the precinct. The streets gleamed wet; the sun was coming out.

  ‘Where now?’ Mia said.

  ‘Back to the park?’

  ‘Or the river?’

  They pushed along the muddy towpath, going side by side where it was wide enough. The wet nettles and cow parsley drooped over the path, drenching their jeans.

  ‘Someone should cut this stuff back,’ Mia said.

  ‘No, I love it. It’s beautiful. Like real countryside. And all that white hawthorn blossom on the trees.’

  Hawthorn. She sounded like Will, knowing the names.

  ‘That one there’s an ash.’ Mia pointed to a huge tree with fresh, newly opened leaves, brilliant green against the grey branches. ‘We’ve got one in our garden. That’s how I know.’

  ‘Lucky you, having a garden,’ Colleen said. ‘I’m staying in a poky flat. Just till I can join Mum again. But there’s no garden, not even a balcony. No fresh air. Babies need fresh air. So do I!’ She laughed, and her breath caught in her chest, making a wheezy sound.

  They pushed a bit further.

  ‘If we keep going,’ Mia said, ‘we can watch the boat going up the locks on to the canal. And there’s a bench there so we can sit down for a rest.’

  Kai whimpered in the buggy. He’d had enough of lying still, seeing nothing but sky. Mia got him out when they stopped at the bench, propped him up against her raised knees so he could see her face properly, like Vicky said to do.

  ‘Aren’t his eyes blue?’ Colleen leaned forwards to look closely. ‘But yours aren’t.’

  ‘No. He’s got his dad’s eyes.’

  ‘Like Isaac, then.’

  Neither of them had mentioned the dads before. The word hung in the air between them, cleared a space where something might happen.

  Mia plunged in. Risked it. ‘What’s he like, then? Isaac’s dad?’

  Colleen sighed, then laughed. ‘Talented, handsome, gorgeous in every way. Of course. Why else would I have chosen him? And,’ she added wryly, ‘a long way away by now! We won’t be seeing him again.’

  Mia realized she’d been holding her breath, scared she’d gone too far. How different this was from talking to Becky, Tasha, Siobhan. They’d have told Mia everything. She would have insisted on all the details. But it felt like a sort of triumph that Colleen had said this much. She was just about to say something about Will, just to make it fair, when Colleen turned away from the lockside.

  ‘I think I’ll go back to my flat now,’ Colleen said. ‘I need a sleep. You?’

  Mia looked at her watch. Ages till her meeting with Becky. ‘Nah. I’ll stay a bit longer. I’m meeting someone later. A friend, from school.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Shall I see you next week, then? You could come to Whitecross?’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Where I live. A village. It’s near the sea. There’s a bus.’

  Colleen shook her head. ‘I’ll meet you in the park again, though, if you want.’

  ‘Monday? Tuesday?’

  ‘Whenever.’

  ‘I have to know when, cos of getting the bus in and everything.’

  ‘Monday, then.’

  Mia watched Colleen make her way slowly along the path. She walked with a sort of elegance, in spite of the disgusting old pram, which bounced and rattled over the rutted ground, wheels wobbling. Graceful: that was the word.

  Mia thought about her some more. When she laughed, her whole body changed. It lit up. And when she talked to her baby, showed him things. She talked to him as if he understood everything, wanted to learn about it. Mia could imagine taking Colleen to the beach at Whitecross. She’d like that. She wondered what she’d been ill with.

  She thought of Colleen going back to her flat, all by herself for a whole weekend. And she thought about the house in Whitecross. The garden. Her room, newly decorated by Becky and her.

  Why didn’t she feel lucky, then? Because she’d always lived there? Took it for granted? Because it wasn’t really her house; it was Dad’s? Because she felt tied, and trapped, too much a child, in the place she’d always lived? Because being safe, and comfortable, weren’t enough? Even now, even with a baby?

  *

  The day was too long. At last it was time to meet Becky. They went from shop to shop, looking at trousers, and tops, and jackets, and shoes. It didn’t seem as much fun as usual.

  ‘What’s up, Mia?’

  ‘I’m just tired. I’ve been in town all day, nearly. And Kai’s had enough.’

  ‘Let’s get a Coke or something, then. Sit down. I’ll push the buggy for a bit.’

  ‘Nah. I think I need to go home.’

  ‘But you haven’t bought anything! At least get those jeans you tried on. And one top. The lilac one.’

  ‘I look horrible.’

  ‘No, you don’t!’

  ‘I’m still too fat.’

  ‘You’re not, Mia! That’s mad! What does that make me, then? An elephant?’

  They laughed. In the end, Mia bought the lilac T-shirt, and the faded denim jeans, and a belt – too expensive, really, but she looked fabulous, Becky said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Mia woke out of a deep, satisfying sleep. The room was flooded with pearly light, the window a square of pale blue sky. She reached out a hand for the clock on the bedside cabinet: five thirty. She’d slept since eleven. Six and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep! Unheard of! And then came the heart-stopping jolt: Kai. Why hadn’t he woken her? He’d never slept this long before.

  She sat up properly. There was the basket by the bed, and the small mound of cream woollen blanket. He was lying on one side, his cheek curved against the undersheet. For a second she watched him, straining to see the rise and fall of his sleeping breaths, but even then she couldn’t be sure, and had to stretch out and touch his cheek, feel that it was warm. He sighed; the fingers on one hand uncurled slightly.

  Mia let out her own breath in a long sigh. Cot death. Suffocation. Meningitis… the list went on and on, all the things you could worry about. If you chose. Silly, really. Worrying all the time. But sometimes you couldn’t help it.

  Mia lay back down in bed and stretched her body out flat. She felt the luxury of being deeply rested; no aches anywhere. She placed her hands on her belly. Lying flat like this, it felt almost normal. She thought of the new clothes she’d bought with Becky. Where was she going to wear them? And that made her think of Will. It was such a long time since she’d felt his hands on her body.

  The sunny morning made everything easier. Dad hummed some ancient Beatles song as he got ready for work. They ate breakfast together for once, Kai in the bouncy seat Becky’s mum had brought round at the weekend. She said she’d got it in a car-boot sale, but it looked brand new.

  ‘He can see what’s going on now. That’ll keep him happy.’

  It seemed to work.

  ‘Do you want a lift into Ashton?’ Dad asked. ‘I don’t have to leave so early this morning. No duty or anything, and the Year Elevens are all off.’

  She’d be too early, but it was easier than getting
the bus by herself. They folded the buggy into the boot and Mia collected up a bag of nappy-changing stuff.

  Dad grinned. ‘Got enough for a week, by the look of you.’

  He switched the radio on and started singing along.

  ‘You’re in a good mood,’ Mia said. Then she regretted it. Dad immediately started enthusing about Miss Blackman.

  ‘It’s like a new lease of life for me, Mia. Hard though it may be for you to understand, there has been something distinctly lacking in my life.’

  Right. Like sex, Mia supposed, remembering Miss Blackman’s short, tight skirts, low-cut blouses, as she leaned over the boys in her Year Eleven English class. Mia sniffed.

  ‘She’s a very interesting young woman, Mia. Widely read. Very mature for her years.’

  ‘Mum asked how old she was,’ Mia said.

  ‘Did she? When?’

  ‘Last time she was here. I think she was a bit jealous or something.’

  That shut Dad up.

  It was only just after nine when Mia got to the park and there was no sign of Colleen. She sat on the swing to wait. The sun was warm already on her back. She tipped the swing back a bit, pushed off with her feet, began to work it up higher and higher. She loved the feeling of stretch in her arms and legs. All that crouching and bending over you do with a baby, she thought, it grinds you down.

  Swinging high made the chains creak and snag. She’d like to go on swinging, high up in the clear air, in the sunlight, forever and ever.

  Kai’s wails brought her down to earth. Why did he have to spoil everything? She kept on swinging, even though he was working himself up into red-faced, angry crying, just to show him, but it wasn’t the same any more and gradually she let the swing wind down until her feet scraped the chippings on the ground.

  He couldn’t need feeding again already, surely? He was just being stubborn, feeling left out. Perhaps if she got him out he’d stop grizzling.

  The feel of his limp warm body, his too-heavy head butting into her neck, softened her and she cuddled him close, her lips brushing his soft head.

  ‘Do you want a swing, too? Come on, then.’

  They were still gently swinging together, Kai held tightly on her lap, when Colleen came into view.