I don’t think she remembers that, either.
Scarlett
‘Hey, Scarlett, is that you?’ My sister’s face appears, all earnest and expectant at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Did you remember to take the temperature reading this morning like I told you?’
I roll my eyes, glancing at the calendar on the kitchen wall. How many days have we been doing this temperature-taking business now? It’s the 5th January – only ten days? It feels like forever.
‘Yup. I took my temperature.’ I pick up the phone to make the call I came down to make.
‘And what was it?’ she breathes. ‘You should be near the ovulation part of your cycle now. Did you write it down on the chart?’
Ah, no, I didn’t. I was looking for Professor Klausmann’s telephone number and I forgot. I’ve got other things on my mind apart from just Hollie’s temperature chart – she doesn’t seem to realise that.
‘It’s on a piece of paper somewhere. On the back of an envelope.’ I call out. ‘On the coffee table in the lounge, maybe?’
My sister disappears for a minute. She needs to chill out a bit more, let things take their course. I’m not used to having people fuss over every tiny little thing any more. It’s beginning to get on my tits…I open up the fridge door, pondering while I wait to be put through to Professor Klausmann. I want something nice for breakfast, and there’s that tiramisu left over from last night but it’s got uncooked eggs in it so I’m not allowed that. Hollie would have a fit.
‘Professor Klausmann is on the other line if you’d like to hold for just a moment,’ a voice informs me in my ear.
‘Sure I’ll hold.’ I’m not sure what to eat. Ever since I made the offer to be a surrogate for my sister on Christmas Eve, she’s been flapping about me no end. She says she wants me to be in ‘tiptop shape to ensure the chances of a successful pregnancy’, in pursuit of which she’s got me taking folic acid and vitamin tablets, eating healthily (not a drop of alcohol allowed either) and drinking water by the gallon. I’ve played along with her so far but the novelty is beginning to wear a bit thin.
I’m going to meet up with Lucy and some of the other girls tonight and I will have a glass of wine. Hell, I haven’t even attempted to get pregnant yet, let alone got pregnant, so Hollie’s going to have to stop being so controlling.
‘I’m sorry, he won’t be long, do you want to continue holding?’
‘Sure.’
I mean, it’s not as if it won’t happen, is it? For most people I reckon it must be a pretty straightforward thing. I don’t imagine all those teenage girls with their unplanned pregnancies ever take any folic acid or watch their alcohol intakes. They just have a shag and, hey presto, it’s done!
I shut the fridge door. I’ll pick up something to eat at the train station. She won’t be able to see what I’m eating, then.
‘Is this it?’ Hollie’s referring to something I cannot see and I don’t bother answering.
‘Hello, Eric Klausmann here.’ The professor’s clipped tones come down the line now.
‘Ah, Professor…’ Why am I getting this overwhelming urge to call him ‘your eminence’? And where have all these butterflies in my stomach suddenly come from? ‘It’s me…Scarlett Hudson.’ There’s a pause as he figures out who I am. ‘You were kind enough to take up my tutor’s suggestion of sponsorship two years ago, for a job in the Amazon I went for.’
‘Yes?’ With a famous name like his, I realise suddenly, he must get asked to sponsor people all the time. Of course he doesn’t remember me…
I’m one of the long-listed candidates for the Klausmann Award,’ I offer helpfully. ‘I just wanted to say, I’m so thrilled and honoured to have been considered…’
‘Ah, yes, of course.’ He’s remembering where he’s heard my name before, no doubt.
‘I’m really honoured,’ I repeat stupidly. Oh my God, I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say to him. Why I rung him up in the first place…
‘We’re holding a symposium on Mycorrhizal biodiversity in the spring,’ he says now, randomly. ‘I’m looking forward to presenting some of your observations.’
Mycorrhizal what? Oh well, I suppose he can’t remember everybody’s theses. I swallow down my disappointment. Maybe my work on medicinal orchids hasn’t made such a huge impact on the board at King’s College?
‘Um, Professor, I don’t know if you recall but I’m currently working for PlanetLove. With Eve Mitcham. I’m in the UK at the moment, renewing my work permit. I wondered if you’d be available some time today for me to bring up some admin forms that I need you to fill in, confirming that I’m working for Chiquitin-Almeira and all that…’
The pause this time is a longer one.
‘I’m sure my secretary would be happy to fill in any forms for you if you’d like to post them down to her,’ he says at last. ‘She’s off on holiday next week but any time after that…’
‘Oh.’ I can’t exactly insist they rush it through, can I? But if she’s away next week the delay might mean Chiquitin-Almeira announcing they’re dropping PlanetLove in the meantime…’Actually, if I could bring it up myself, maybe today…that’d really help me out, Professor.’
Again, that uncomfortable pause as if he’s weighing things up in his mind.
‘By all means, if you’re in town, I’d enjoy the chance to learn where your views on Mycorrhizal biodiversity come from. Some of your insights were remarkable, I thought. But please don’t come up specially. My work schedule is somewhat erratic at the moment.’
‘Fine,’ I breathe. Damn it. He doesn’t know who I am at all, does he? Oh well. That just confirms where I am in the pecking order. I put the phone back in its cradle.
‘Scarlett…’
I shoot up the stairs when I hear Hollie’s voice. If I can get into the shower before she catches me I might still make my train…
‘This paper?’ She’s back, waving the scrappy envelope at me, a huge smile all over her face. ‘Your temperature’s gone up,’ she says. ‘You’re ovulating. Today’s the day, honey!’
‘Today?’ The sudden sickly feeling in my stomach lurches right out of nowhere. Today what? Today is the day I’m due to get pregnant with Richard’s baby. I look at her blankly. I wasn’t expecting this so soon. I’m not ready, and I’ve got other things planned right now.
‘You OK?’ She starts coming up the stairs, a sympathetic look on her face and I back away before she gets to me.
‘I’m fine, Hollie. It’s just – can we do it later?’
‘Later?’ She looks surprised. ‘Like – when?’
I look at her blankly. I’ve got other stuff to do – can’t she see that?
‘This – fertile period, when the temperature goes up – it lasts for a few days, doesn’t it? Do we have to do this right now?’
‘I’d like you to.’ Hollie looks sad. She’s waited so long for this now I feel bad about delaying her again.
‘I need to have a shower now, that’s all. I’m going up to London to see Professor Klausmann.’
‘This morning?’ Hol stops in her tracks. ‘You’re going to London right now?’
‘Yep.’
‘Why?’
‘Why?’ I repeat stupidly.
‘What’s so important about seeing him today? Can’t it wait?’
No. It can’t wait. Eve made it perfectly clear before I left Brazil that I needed to get the paperwork at this end sorted as a matter of priority. Because of the fact that new people might be coming in to take over and the whole PlanetLove infrastructure might be on the brink of major changes. Better if I’m already safely ‘in place’ as Eve put it, before that happens.
But now there’s that PlanetLove email to add to my worries as well, I remember unhappily. I haven’t even mentioned that to Hollie. That’s because I didn’t want her fussing. I can sort this out myself. I bolt into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I can’t do this pregnancy thing for her. Not today.
When that PlanetLove emai
l suggests there may be a problem, what could they possibly be going on about?
The possibilities jostle together uncomfortably in my head. My exam results were all kosher. Apart from the maths, where I said I got an A when in fact I got a C. But would they really be worried about that kind of thing at this stage when I’ve been working for them all this time? It can’t be…it can’t be anything else, surely? I feel the slight sheen of sweat forming on my brow.
No, no no! Get a grip, girl! I am not going to become a worry-wart like my sister. I refuse to.
‘Would you mind if I asked you to…make the pregnancy attempt first, before you go up to London?’ Hollie puts in mildly through the door.
I switch the water on, so the sound of it running will make it seem as if I’m already out of earshot.
What did she say? Something about using a turkey baster and a little vial which holds the sperm – here’s some we prepared earlier, sort of thing. Ugh! Poor Hol. How embarrassing is that? It’s all so clinical. There’s no magical ‘making a baby’ moment to this method. It’s all about the science of temperature and timing.
Is this what it’s become for them, after all this time of ‘trying for a baby’? That’s so sad. Does each month just become ‘another attempt’ at the right moment when she’s ovulating?
I turn to the bathroom mirror which is beginning to get rapidly steamed up, and muss up my hair, trying to wake myself up, get myself into the mood. This is surreal. This whole morning has been surreal. I wonder if they’re really going to use my work at that symposium the professor talked about in the spring? How exciting would that be? How unbelievably thrilling? Maybe I’m actually still in bed and dreaming?
‘Scarlett, can you hear me?’ Hol calls out louder.
I step in under the running water, feeling the soothing heat of it first against my legs and then down my back. I could write a paper on that thesis. I could have it published in Nature – my God, that would be something, wouldn’t it? Who’d have thought it? I close my eyes and try to block her out because I need to think.
And because I’m feeling really, really nervous about what it is I’ve agreed to do for her. I never did read that article in the pregnancy mag on the ‘possible complications of pregnancy’ because I just didn’t want to know. But I’m thinking now maybe I should have. Let myself know what I might be in for? It’s not always so straightforward, is it? Having an actual baby. I’d opt for a Caesarean but Hol’s dead against that and I don’t like the idea of stitches down there at all. Oh, why did I ever agree to this in the first place?
I can feel my heart hammering ten to the dozen at the thought of it. I lean against the cool bathroom tiles and try and calm myself down and outside I can still hear Hollie hesitating by the door.
‘Scarlett?’ she persists.
‘I’m having a shower,’ I call out in what I hope sounds like a cheery voice. Just be matter-of-fact about this, I keep reminding myself. Just act like this is…normal.
You’re doing this for her, for Hollie. And for José and Tunga and all the rest of them because once I’ve got my sister on board I will be in a position to help them. It’s the right thing to do. So why won’t my pulse stop racing? And why won’t she go away?
‘Is everything OK? Why the sudden trip to see Professor Klausmann? I mean, is it urgent?’
‘No!’ I yell through the door. ‘I just needed to see him, that’s all.’
‘I see. Well, Lettie, would you mind – if Professor Klausmann isn’t really urgent – doing this thing for me first, please?’
‘Sure. Whatever,’ I sigh. I suppose I don’t actually have an appointment to see Professor Klausmann.
I give my face a good rub with my flannel and the mandarin scent of my shower gel wakes me up and invigorates me. I can do this. I can do the turkey baster thing and then get dressed and get on the train and go up and see Professor Klausmann and sort out my own day just like I planned, sure. Why not?
‘I’ll just go and get everything ready for you,’ Hollie is shouting through the door. ‘OK?’
‘OK,’ I shout back. I step out of the shower. I can’t believe how cool my sister sounds. She must be making a huge effort.
She must be, surely? Because, beyond all the on-the-surface gratitude to me, she must be feeling a little unease about the fact that she’s got to get her sister to do it for her. That she can’t do it herself.
Well, I hope she’s not going to hold my fertility against me afterwards – feel resentment or jealousy or anything. I saw how she was when she heard about Sarah’s pregnancy. She tried hard to hide it but she was dead gutted. Still, I frown, peering into the mirror again and rubbing it over to demist it, I’ll not be hanging around here for too long once we’ve got the pregnancy confirmed.
Just as soon as I’ve sorted what I came over here to do, I’ll be taking my bump back to sunny Brazil to finish off the job, far away from Hollie’s prying eyes.
Hollie
That shower has been running for so long Scarlett must have drained the entire tank by now. I sit down on her bed and wait.
I’ve had a sense all week that today might be the day. I told Richard when we woke up, while we were still lying there in bed. When he looked at me I thought his eyes seemed happy – hopeful, even – but he didn’t say anything. He has told me a thousand times that if I cannot have children he will be content. He has told me that he would be happy to adopt or to remain childless, whatever I choose. But this morning he just hugged me close and kissed me. When I laid my head along his chest I could hear his heart beating hard. We lay there still for so long I thought, if I were quiet enough, I might be able to hear his thoughts and that he must surely be able to read mine.
I propped myself up on my elbows, needing to share the feeling of excitement that was coursing through me.
‘I can’t explain it, Rich. I know we’ve been through a long and weary battle to try and start a family but I just feel that this is it. It’s going to happen for us this time.’
He laughed then, drawing my face closer to his for a kiss.
‘I only want whatever makes you happy. But I’m already more than happy, you know that…’
Christ. I can’t quite believe it. I clasp my hands in front of my face now and the jumbled mess of all Scarlett’s clothes and her dog-eared map of the world that is peeling off the wall and all her odds and assortments that we’ve never quite got round to clearing out of her old room all disappear in a misty haze. This is going to be my lucky year, I know it.
The sound of the ancient water pipes gurgling brings me back to the moment and I open my eyes. How much longer?
But I am being impatient. I look around me, tempted to start clearing up the mess while I wait. This is a huge step Scarlett’s about to take, and she’s doing it all for me. I have to let her do it in her own way, in her own time, even if my stomach’s all jangled up and I can’t wait to get on with it. I can still scarcely believe it could really turn out to be this easy, after all we’ve been through.
No trip to India. No forking out masses of money to get some stranger to do it. No worrying about the health and the motives of the surrogate mother because Scarlett will surely want to spend the pregnancy here, under my own roof.
The shower has been turned off at last, but the bathroom door is still closed. Perhaps I should just lay everything out for her, on the bed? She’ll know what to do with it I suppose – it’s self-evident. On the other hand, no, I won’t, because Richard’s working far away from home today and if we have a mishap -if the vial gets spilled or something – then we may miss our chance. I’d better be on hand to make sure it all goes without a hitch, get it done, because, the truth is, I still don’t know what it was that brought about Scarlett’s sudden change of heart just over a week ago. And I don’t know how easily she might change it back again. My butterfly sister is perfectly capable of changing her mind. Just because. That’s how she always has been.
I get up and go over to the little windo
w which Scarlett always insists on keeping open and I pull it to. She used to spend hours standing on her bed as a child, peering out of that very window. It looks out onto Strood Esplanade. I don’t like it. I prefer to keep it locked shut.
I glance behind me; the bathroom door is still closed.
‘Hey. How are you getting on, sis?’
‘Good,’ her muffled voice comes back. She must be drying her hair.
‘Are you nervous?’ I offer. My hands feel so clammy and sticky I don’t know what to do with them. I sit there twisting my wedding ring round and round on my finger while I wait. I hear her laugh softly in the background. She doesn’t sound nervous. She sounds pleased, excited even. As if she’s really looking forward to this experience, and the realisation of that assuages my guilt a little.
I don’t remember Scarlett ever being nervous, now I come to think of it. Well – only that one time a couple of years ago, when she was dead scared because she’d left the writing of her thesis for the PlanetLove foundation far too late. Ha! I haven’t forgotten that look of terror on her face when she suddenly got scared that what she’d eventually written wouldn’t be up to scratch, and she’d set her heart on going out to Brazil. She panicked then, all right!
It’s the only time I remember seeing my sister looking truly vulnerable. She’s always been so up for anything, so game, whereas I…
I bend to pick up a heap of her discarded clothes and carry them through to the laundry basket. I crane my neck down the hallway to the bathroom but it’s all gone quiet and there’s still no sign of her. I want to get this over and done with now, I really do. I hope she isn’t bothering with putting on make-up or anything.
‘OK?’ My sister appears at last, a blue silk kimono robe (mine, unused till this moment, a present from Chrissie last birthday) wrapped about her. Her short blonde curls have all been primped into place, and I can recognise the almond scent of my most pricey hair lotion. She looks wide-eyed and innocent and far too young to be planning on getting pregnant. I feel another momentary jab of guilt. She is the perfect person to do this for me and at the same time probably the very worst.
A Sister’s Gift Page 10
