“I’m starving,” he told her.
“Honestly, Mam, why didn’t you text me? I’d’ve knocked off school early if I’d known.”
The girl looked too grown up to be a schoolgirl. Just goes to show, thought Cole: girls these days parading around looking twice their age. How were blokes to know?
She flounced from the room and returned ten minutes later with a tray full of mouth-watering cakes and tarts. She put these, together with a large mug of tea, onto the long table and wheeled it across Cole’s chair. He was able to have a good look down her blouse as she did so. Then he remembered she was just a schoolgirl so he averted his eyes.
She pointed to the cakes on the dining board and listed them.
“Sultana and cherry slab, Ecclefechan tart, dark chocolate and rum torte, cherry pecan tart and a cupcake iced by Skye.”
“Ice bi-sky?” Cole quizzed.
“Iced by Skye, yes.” Billie confirmed.
Halfway through the slice of cherry pecan tart, it struck Cole. He was in hell. Somehow he’d died in the van… a heart attack perhaps? Whatever it was, it had killed him. Now he was trapped in the body of a fat woman – a really fat woman – and he couldn’t even begin to work out an escape route.
Yeah, this was hell alright.
The food was nice though.
And that older girl up on the photo shelf? The name Suky Selene sprang to mind. He was sure he’d seen her without her clothes on somewhere.
29
Wednesday
TINA
Tina picked at her grapes and flicked open another magazine. Her insides felt terrible, although the cramping had subsided. She felt hollow – in her body and her mind.
They’d labelled her baby a ‘late miscarriage’. The trauma she’d suffered in falling had damaged the placenta which had bled, causing irreparable damage.
He’d died inside her.
They took her to a special delivery suite and gave her drugs that would induce him. She’d had to push.
Afterwards, they’d spent some time with him. His miniature body was flawless with ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. He had a nose, a mouth, two teeny eyes and two delicate little ears.
She hadn’t wanted to touch him. He looked too fragile, too tiny, too precious. She’d stared at him, cradled in Mikey’s palm, actively memorising his features. They asked one of the hospital chaplains to take a photograph.
The chaplain held a short service in the room so they could say their goodbyes.
It was the hardest thing Tina had ever had to do.
She called him Gabe, so that he’d feel comfortable in heaven with all the other angels.
Her son. Gabe. Gone.
Later, they put her in a side room just off the maternity ward. The photo of Gabe was propped up against a box of tissues. Tina sighed and reached for it. Grief welled up again like heartburn and she wondered if she would ever be able to stem the seemingly endless tide of tears.
Mikey entered the room and walked towards her bed. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. Before the door shut, she heard the cry of another newborn.
“I can’t believe they’re keeping you in maternity,” Mikey grumbled. “It’s like twisting the knife. Every time I walk in or out of this room, I see babies.”
“They’re moving me to gynaecology soon,” said Tina woodenly, wiping her most recent tears away with the back of her hand.
“You ought to be there now in my opinion,” whispered Mikey.
“Mikey, please, we’ve been through this. It’s because I have to see the bereavement midwife.”
“It’s ridiculous! What sort of waste-of-time job is that? Hundreds of women have miscarriages, don’t they?”
“Not at sixteen weeks…” Tina began to cry again.
If only she could put the clock back and have her child kicking gently inside her once more. If only she could give him another sixteen weeks. He would be so much stronger; he would have a real fighting chance.
“It’s so insulting,” she eventually gasped between her sobs, “to call my baby, my little angel, a ‘miscarriage’.”
“I’m sorry Tina. I didn’t mean to upset you. I agree with you – it is a revolting word. Like a ‘miscarriage of justice’, when the courts get it wrong.”
“We didn’t get it wrong, did we, Mikey? Gabe was so perfect.”
“He was just that.”
Mikey sat on the edge of the bed and held her tightly. Tina clung to him, crying. She felt tiny and vulnerable in his arms. She didn’t deserve his love.
“Where will I go?” she sobbed eventually.
“What do you mean?” asked Mikey gently.
“When they let me out of here, where will I go?”
“Home, of course. I mean, if you want to that is?”
“Aren’t you kicking me out then?” wept Tina, her wet eyes regarding him widely.
Mikey stood up and rubbed his temples.
“There are some that would say I’m a fool if I don’t,” he answered honestly.
Tina nodded, biting her lip. Her tears subsided, briefly.
“It will never happen again, Mikey. It was never supposed to in the first place,” she said quietly.
“How long?”
Tina turned her head away, pretending to stare out the window.
“How long had it been going on? You and my brother,” repeated Mikey.
“Mikey, this isn’t doing us any good,” she sighed.
“It’s a simple enough question,” persisted Mikey. “How long?”
“Too long. I don’t know. We were on and off,” she cried, whipping her head back round to face him.
“On and off? So… months? Years? I need to know!” Mikey began to raise his voice.
“It was just too long, alright? It’s over. Done. It won’t happen again – with Guy or anybody else. I’ve learnt some painful lessons. Does that make you happy? Our child is dead and you’re grilling me about the past!”
“This life, this baby… he was made in the past. You say ‘our child’ Tina… but was Gabe really ‘ours’?”
“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” asked Tina in a small, wobbly voice.
“If you think I’m asking you who Gabe’s father is, then yes.”
Tina broke down in new floods. She shook her head, then nodded it, then…
“I don’t know…” she wailed.
Mikey turned towards the door and reached for the handle. He stopped. He slammed his palm against the wood surround so that the narrow pane of glass in it rattled, making Tina jump.
“You’re my wife,” he shouted, turning around to face her. “I love you, I don’t want to live without you. But I don’t want you sleeping with other men. I particularly don’t want you sleeping with my brothers!”
“Just the one,” whispered Tina, barely audible.
“I want us to be together. I want us to make more babies. Babies that are definitely mine. No, ‘I don’t knows’. Mine!” Mikey slammed the base of his fist against the wall this time.
He strode to the bed and took his wife into his arms.
“I love you,” he repeated, “but I won’t forgive you twice.”
Tina rested her head against his chest.
“I know,” she whispered. “But you won’t have to.”
30
Wednesday
JAKEY
Jakey was still holding Starla’s hand when they got to the top of the hill. Starla had managed to tell him everything and he could sense her immeasurable relief.
Jakey had pulled a face when he found out that Gav was gay but Starla had chastised him and told him that Morgan seemed like a lovely young man. They laughed at their assumption that Morgan was a girl because they both considered the name to be more feminine, plus Marnie had shared a bedsit with ‘Morgs’ when she had first left home. They wondered how they missed the fact that ‘Morgs’ was a male but came to the conclusion that Marnie hadn’t wanted them to know, perhaps fearing their disappr
oval.
Jakey’s face changed to impressed when Starla described The Willows to him but soon turned back to disapproval when he discovered that Marnie was involved in the porn industry! He was unable to hide his disappointment and he secretly wished that Starla had kept that one from him. Jakey was also astonished to hear that Guy and Tina were messing around behind Mikey’s back. Like Starla, he wondered who the baby’s father might be.
In return, Jakey told Starla about his blog and the recipe book that he had just finished putting together. He also confessed that he’d read the article in Femme Fanfare and had been upset that parts of it had practically referred to him as a feeder.
The pair immediately dropped hands as they entered Jubilee Terrace. Mrs Unwin was leaning over her gate talking to Mrs Mortimer.
It wasn’t long before Jakey and Starla were within greeting distance.
“Afternoon, Mr Jackson,” said Edna formally. “I was just saying to Theresa here, that it’s far too nice a day to stay inside.”
Theresa Mortimer nodded, embarrassed by her neighbour’s obvious dig at Clara’s agoraphobia. She was too timid to challenge Edna but Jakey could imagine a conflict of opinion, especially given that Theresa’s daughter was married to Mikey.
“Oooh… hello. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Edna fixed a withering stare onto Starla’s face.
“Hi,” said Starla. “I’m Starla. Clara’s sister.”
“Just arrived.” Jakey added. “Well, enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.”
If he’d had a hat, Jakey would like to have tipped it, the way men used to do when they wanted women to clear off.
He was about to walk forward but Edna stopped him with her tongue.
“Sister? Didn’t know Clara had a sister. I heard her Mam just upped and left.”
Starla smiled. “She did, yeah. Upped, left and had me. I’m sure you understand how these things happen?”
Edna pursed her lips. Jakey thought he saw her shudder at the thought of getting close to poor old George. She probably considered him to be a ridiculous, pub-frequenting, cigarette-smoking husband, although they must have been close once upon a time. Phillip, their son, was testament to that and he had gone on to give them two grandsons, Greg and Charlie.
“Hmm…” she murmured, opening her gate to let Theresa in. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re off to see about a brew.”
Theresa turned and waved as the two disappeared into the house. Edna Unwin was not amused.
“Oooh – what an old witch she is!” Starla whispered. “I think Mikey was right when he thought she might mount her broomstick and put a spell on Dirty Harry.”
“She certainly didn’t like the thought of mounting George,” chortled Jakey, “or vice versa!”
Jakey and Starla laughed as they opened the gate to their home and descended the four steps which led to the patio.
“Sorry about the mess out here.” Jakey mumbled.
“It’s OK,” said Starla. “There’s a clear path to the back door. What more could a girl wish for?”
“Before we go in…” Jakey slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her high. As he gently dropped her back down, his lips met hers and they kissed tenderly.
The curtain in Mrs Unwin’s downstairs window twitched.
31
Wednesday
STARLA
Starla and Jakey entered their home and immediately bumped into Billie in the kitchen licking the lid off a yogurt pot.
“Traitor!” Jakey cried.
“Dad, I can’t always eat your cakes. I’m not actually eating for two, you know.”
Billie stopped mid-lick and stared at Starla.
“Billie, this is Starla. She’s your auntie.”
“What?” Billie frowned. “No she’s not.”
“Yes she is. She’s Mam’s sister. You’ve not seen her since you were little so you’ve probably forgotten.”
“Mam’s an only child.”
“Where is your mam?” Starla asked, knowing full well that Clara would be fast asleep in her chair.
“Mam?” Billie yelled.
“Noooo…” whispered Jakey. “Don’t wake her up. We’ll leave her to sleep on.”
“She’s not asleep,” informed Billie, “she’s eating her way through a tin of Ecclefechan tarts. Probably because nobody left her any food today, Dad!”
“Not asleep?” echoed Starla.
“As in… awake,” said Billie smartly.
“That’s impossible,” cried Starla, rushing through to the living room.
Sure enough, Clara was wide awake, munching and watching television.
“You!” Clara shouted, spraying crumbs all over her expansive belly. “Why you little witch! What have you done to me?”
Starla leaned forward so that her face was a breath away from Clara’s.
“Who are you and what have you done with my ring?” she hissed.
“The ring? Is that what’s put me here?”
“You’re one of those thugs that took my bag, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” Starla’s voice was a menacing whisper.
“So what if I am. What are you going to do to about it? Have me arrested? Or use your witchcraft to turn me into a toad?”
Remembering her recent comments to Mr Kelly about looking like a toad, Starla was laughing as Billie and Jakey entered the room with a fresh pot of tea.
“See, love,” said Jakey to his daughter. “They get on like a house on fire. Always have done.”
Billie’s mouth dropped open. “Looking at you both together, I can see that you’re so alike! You actually have all the same features. Like Guy and Gav.”
As Billie set the tray down on the table to pour the tea, Starla leaned next to Clara’s ear.
“I’m your younger sister,” she spat. “If you do or say anything that doesn’t back that up, I will leave you in this chair for the rest of your life. Do you understand me?”
Clara nodded, frightened.
“And if we all get along,” announced Starla loudly, taking the mug of tea from Billie, “we might try to arrange a nice little trip to the zoo.”
32
Wednesday
BILLIE
Billie was tired. She’d had a ‘full-on’ day at school and she’d missed the bus home for the second day in a row, thanks to stupid Mrs Lambert who’d stopped to have another one-sided chat with her after school. It was alright for the teachers, Billie had thought, they get in their cars when they’ve finished school. She had a chuffin’ three mile walk if she missed the bus – and most of it was uphill, too.
Not only that, but when she had eventually arrived home, she’d found her mam writhing and twisting, having some sort of panic attack. If she’d been home sooner, she probably could have prevented Mam from getting so upset. But Mrs Lambert with her nice, comfortable, fast car (not to mention maternity pay to look forward to), well, she wouldn’t understand the meaning of really caring, would she?
She’d asked Billie again if her mother had managed to get out of the school alright. Once again, Billie thought it was a bizarre question given that her mother hadn’t set foot out of the house in years. She informed Mrs Lambert that her mam was at home, yes, and this seemed to satisfy her.
Mrs Lambert then started blathering on about Mam not having phoned her today when she said she would. Billie promised to get her to call tomorrow. She hoped that if she could shut Mrs Lambert up and hurry out, she might still catch the bus.
But, no, Mrs Lambert had wanted to give her some statistics relating to GCSE grades. These were affected by prolonged or frequent absence, apparently. Since Billie would be nursing a baby instead of sitting exams, she found it quite difficult to engage with Mrs Lambert’s statistics. In her present state, she cared more about missing the bus than missing school.
She’d missed it, of course, because she was too polite to say what she really thought and had, instead, smiled sweetly, pretending it was all of great interest. Mrs Lambert had go
ne on to tell her that Mr Waterfall had looked at the spiteful internet harassment and that he would arrange to meet with her as soon as possible. Tanya had thanked her, three bags full ma’am, and finally managed to slip away to start the long walk home with her school bags, books and baby on board.
Billie had been home about three quarters of an hour, long enough to settle her mam and grab a yogurt from the fridge, when her dad walked in with Starla. At first, she thought her dad had been mucking about, saying this lady was her auntie but then she caught the likeness and realised it must be true. Besides, her dad was the most honest man she knew, although she was still upset with him for shouting at her last night and slamming out the way he did.
She was also mad at him for not leaving Mam any food today. That was most unlike him. Starla, her new auntie, had rushed through to the living room (as if she owned the place) to speak to Mam once she found out Mam was awake. Well, fair enough, they probably had some catching up to do.
Billie boiled the kettle and arranged a teapot and some mugs on a tray.
“Why didn’t you leave Mam any food or drink out today, Dad? She was starving hungry when I got home.”
“I never thought in a million years that you’d go to school today, Bills. I presumed you’d spend the day talking through the options with your mam.”
“Dad… she sent me to school. She said I should try to go on till half term and she wrote me a note to get me out of PE.”
Billie poured the boiling water into the pot while Jakey got the milk from the fridge.
“Don’t I feel like the bad guy now,” he whispered.
“Besides, there are no options,” continued Billie firmly. “I’m having it and keeping it. Mam says I can. Besides, I’m probably a bit far on to… you know.”
She picked up the tray and carried it through to the living room.
Starla was laughing and Billie felt glad. She was glad to have somebody else here to take the heat off her. Glad that Mam had found her long lost sister. Glad that her Dad had calmed down. Glad, even, that she was going to have Nick’s baby.
“Well, I’ll leave you all to it,” Billie declared when she’d finished her mug of tea. “I’m going up to do some homework. Givvus a shout if you’re cooking some dinner later.”
Dying to Be Slim Page 18
