Can I Give My Husband Back?: A totally laugh out loud and uplifting page turner

by Kristen Bailey

  She looks horrified at me, standing up. ‘Just because he was unfaithful to you, doesn’t mean he’d do the same to me. He loves me.’

  I let her think about those words. In just the last year of our relationship, I know of at least two other women Simon slept with who aren’t Susie. One was a patient’s family member. I’d put money on him currently shagging his lawyer. If you’re going to be cruel then I can lay out all those details for you here if you want and shatter all those illusions you have about this man. But something holds me back. I’d just about freed myself from that man’s quicksand, I don’t need her dragging my ankles and pulling me down again.

  ‘You should leave,’ I tell her.

  ‘I was going to.’

  ‘Good luck.’

  I don’t want to be cruel and acerbic to a pregnant woman. Half of me is not shocked what Simon did. He blackened my name because it was the easier route. He didn’t tell his mother because she would have hated him. He didn’t tell Susie because he didn’t want her to be the other woman. And I feel stupid, even more so than I ever did before because I helped him perpetuate that myth that he was this married surgeon with the perfect family.

  Susie turns to leave, bending down to grab her bag. She rubs at the top corner of her bump and winces a bit. I pretend to pack my bag but watch her closely. She stops, using the back of a chair to steady herself. She drops her bag to the floor, her knuckles clenched white around the top of the seat. I rush over from behind my desk as she exhales loudly. Seriously?

  ‘How long have you been having contractions?’ I ask.

  ‘Four hours,’ she says, grabbing at my hand, her waters breaking all over my shoes.

  ‘Yes, this is Dr Callaghan. I am up on Sky Level, I have a lady here in labour who needs transport over to St Thomas’.’

  ‘Is she a child?’ asks the voice on the phone.

  ‘No, she’s a pregnant woman.’

  ‘I don’t think I have a wheelchair big enough? Let me check.’

  ‘She’s not a whale, just bring what you have?’

  The line goes quiet. I’ve moved Susie over to my sofa but she writhes around trying to get comfortable. Maddie is leaning over her and kneading her back. This man is never coming back. I hang up and try someone else.

  ‘Who are you calling?’ asks Susie.

  ‘Simon?’

  ‘NO! I don’t want him here.’

  My fingers hover over the phone. Simon could deal with this, he could take her away and leave me out of her drama but I see it in her eyes. She wants to get this baby out on her terms. She wants my help.

  ‘Can you walk?’ asks Maddie.

  She screams as another contraction arrives.

  ‘Deep breath in and slowly out the mouth, long exhalations,’ I advise.

  Susie gives me that look that I recognise all too well. Don’t be hitting me with your advice right now standing there pain-free. I need to get her over the road and I sure as hell am not going to carry her there.

  ‘Do you have any friends or colleagues that you want me to call?’ Maddie asks. She can’t answer. Maddie looks to me. ‘Ring the ward, get them to send someone over.’

  I ring a number, getting an engaged line. Maddie looks over at me, slightly horrified.

  ‘Last time I checked,’ says Susie through panicked breaths, ‘you were a doctor.’

  I give her a look. You slept with my husband, you’ve ruined my suede shoes and now my sofa. I know I took oaths and everything but she’s very welcome to push that baby out on her own. I wind my mind back to the last time I delivered a baby. It was in medical school and it was done via caesarean section. All I have are blunt scissors and a stapler. Susie has turned around on the sofa, her arms clenched to the back cushions and her arse in the air. She bays in a low humming noise. Maddie doesn’t know where to look.

  ‘Emma, I think… I think I need to push…’

  This is really happening, isn’t it? I put the phone down and run to my sink to wash my hands.

  ‘Maddie, just go downstairs and grab what you can. Gloves would be good, a nurse, towels?’

  ‘Just hold it in, no? Until we can get someone here.’

  We both look at her and I point towards the door.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Susie is sobbing at this point. Fully sobbing. ‘I shouldn’t have come here.’

  I go prop her up so she’s sitting on the edge of the sofa. Taking off her trousers and underwear, I examine her. I don’t usually swear but fuck, she’s eight centimetres dilated.

  ‘Well you’re here now. It could be worse.’

  ‘How could this be worse?’

  ‘You could be on the Tube?’

  She fake laughs.

  ‘You don’t need to push, one more contraction to dilate you fully. How did you not know you were in labour?’

  ‘I was distracted with work. I thought it was Braxton Hicks? I’m not due for another month.’

  She grabs on to my shoulders and sobs quietly into them.

  ‘I really hate you,’ she says through gritted teeth, almost laughing.

  ‘The feeling is mutual?’

  She hugs me tightly and bears down on me. I push back. It’s kind of a strange wrestling move. I look down at my sofa, covered in patches of blood and fluid. She sobs gently.

  ‘I can’t do this on my own.’

  ‘You’re not on your own,’ I whisper.

  I cup her face in my hands and there’s a look between us. What the hell is happening here? Two figures appear at the door and I swerve around to see Maddie marching into action, tearing open packets of paper sheets and to my surprise, Jag. This isn’t weird. He also looks in total shock, as do I.

  ‘Maddie saw me and dragged me up here. Jesus, Emma…’

  ‘I said a nurse, Maddie… he’s an anaesthetist.’

  ‘It was him or Mira the cleaner,’ says Maddie, frantic.

  ‘Prop her up, Jag. Just support her from the back.’

  Jag does as he’s told, trying to smile at me. Given there’s going to be a baby in the room very soon, I don’t engage.

  ‘This is Susie Hunter, she’s eight centimetres dilated and—’

  But before I can continue, another contraction arrives. Her legs straighten and the release of pain into her system sees her cry out into the room. I know that sound. It’s pure human emotion yet her cries seem tinged with sadness. I glove up and examine her again.

  ‘That may have done it, Susie. Are you ready to push?’

  She looks me straight in the eye. You are going to deliver my baby, aren’t you? Both of us don’t really know who this humiliates more. But very soon another little person will be in this room who doesn’t know a thing, who was just a product of this whole big mess. Let’s just get him out safely. She nods quietly. She tenses all her muscles and Jag hooks himself under her arms so she can bear back on him. I instruct Maddie to push back on her legs. I think back to when I pushed Violet out, that surge of adrenalin in your system to push against the pain and free yourself of it. Violet. She flew into the world. I remember Simon being at the end of the bed, watching her crown. What an utter bastard for bringing these children into this world and letting them suffer from all his bad behaviour.

  ‘I can feel the head, Susie. Just wait for the next contraction and then another big push.’

  Jag looks at me. I can’t quite tell if he’s thrilled or scared but he grabs her hand and puts his face next to her ear. He whispers something that I can’t quite make out but it slows her breathing down and makes her close her eyes. I see the pain swell in her again and she leans forward. I push her thighs back to allow her to make that final push, guiding the head and shoulders out so the rest of her baby boy can appear. And when he does, it really is like magic. One moment he wasn’t here and the next, there’s a whole other human in the room. I sigh in relief and Susie sobs quietly into Maddie.

  ‘Is he OK? Is he safe?’

  I hold him in a cradle pose. Jag scrambles around wiping at the baby�
�s nose and mouth and he then lets out a huge cry, his skin pinking up. He’s a little on the small side but he’s definitely got lungs. He stops for five seconds to look at me. Hi , welcome. His eyes are blue but there’s a look there that’s familiar. Poor little sod, you’ve got his chin. He starts crying again.

  ‘It’s a boy and first glances tell me he is fine.’

  I hand him over to Susie who holds him to her chest and Maddie covers him with blankets. The cry is like music to my ears; I let it drown out the white noise in my head. What have we done, Susie Hunter? What have we let this man do to us? She says nothing but tears well up in our eyes as we look down at this squashed baby face looking up at us.

  ‘We were called about a woman in labour?’ pipes in a voice from the corridor. A midwife appears with a porter and a wheelchair. We all help Susie to the wheelchair.

  ‘I can accompany you back over to the main hospital,’ says Maddie, putting her coat over her.

  Susie sits there shell-shocked, mute, her eyes glazed over. I bend down to place a blanket over her knees and follow her to the lift. The midwife and Maddie chatter inanely about the excitement and how well she’s done but she can’t think what to say. As they go into the lift, I share a last glance with her before the doors close. I stand there for a moment, the cry of that baby echoing in my ears.

  Back in the office, Jag stands there, cleaning up the worst of the sheets and paper towels lying around the place. I stand at the doorway, shell-shocked.

  ‘Emma, you’re shaking.’ He pulls a chair over and I collapse onto it. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea? What do you need?’

  ‘I should call the cleaners and explain to them what happened,’ I say blankly.

  Jag looks worried. ‘Emma, really… that can wait? Are you OK? That must have been a shock. I can go back and get Maddie?’

  I can’t reply. I look down at my trembling hands, and get up to go to the sink and scrub them clean. Jag watches me closely as I let the water get hotter. He comes over and switches it off.

  ‘Emma, I’m worried. Who was she? Why was she in your office?’

  I feel my shoulders suddenly collapse with emotion. Jag pulls me in closely and embraces me tightly. Maybe this was it. The final shot sent to kill me. Maybe Simon sent her to give birth here and humiliate me further. Because that’s all that soars through me right now. I feel like guiding that baby out of my husband’s mistress and holding his little vulnerable body in my hands was the last straw. I can’t seem to stop crying.

  ‘Why are you here? This is madness,’ I say, almost laughing.

  ‘You’re telling me. I was eating an egg sandwich in the corridor and bumped into Maddie and she was hysterical. She said there was a baby coming. And then… I can’t believe you just delivered a baby!’

  He stands there, confused. I have no idea what to say to him. I’ve not seen him since he kissed his ex-girlfriend. I thought we were done. But there is a way in which he cares, shows concern, that makes me not want to send him away.

  ‘She was hospital staff? Do you know her?’

  The problem with Jag is that he doesn’t know about any of this drama in my life. We’ve shared brief chats, moments and hummus. We never really talked about real life. I thought it was escapism but really it was just glossing over a truth that has just walked into my office and slapped me right in the face. I wasn’t enough. How could I ever be enough for someone else? I look up at him. Time to strip back that gloss, for you to see how chipped and weathered I really am.

  ‘She’s my husband’s girlfriend,’ I say laughing, almost in disbelief.

  Jag’s eyes widen in horror.

  ‘She came here to have it out with me as it turns out my ex-husband was lying to us both. They have another son together called Oliver who would have been born when I was still very much married.’ My bottom lip trembles. ‘The truth is my husband had multiple affairs when I was married to him,’ I carry on. ‘She was one of many and I put up with it for far too many years. So, now it seems I am living the ultimate humiliation which is to deliver their babies.’

  I don’t know how I expect Jag to react. Permission to leave, young man. He did well, a perfect birthing partner, but I do not expect him to wade through this crap with me. I am a mess. Just when I think I have rebuilt and I am ready to take on the world again, Simon pulls that rug out from right under my feet. However, Jag doesn’t react as such. He pulls the hair back from my face. He wipes tears that are halfway down my cheeks.

  ‘Shush now. I think you’re pretty awesome for doing what you did. A lesser woman would have turned her away.’

  ‘It’s in my job description. I did what any person would have done.’

  ‘Or not… I don’t know how to deliver a baby?’

  ‘What medical school did you go to?’

  He laughs and I respond with a stream of emotion that involves me wiping tears and snot away with my sleeve.

  He pauses for a moment. ‘Are you OK, Emma? I don’t know what happened with us or at that wedding but I do care about you. I miss you.’

  I look him in the eye. If my time with Simon has taught me anything, it’s that I now confront everything, head on.

  ‘I saw a kiss between you and your ex. At the wedding.’ He looks horrified. ‘I just have enough drama in my life. I didn’t need more.’

  ‘Hang on, I thought you left because of the fight?’

  ‘The fight?’

  ‘I mean, Chay stuck her tongue down my throat and then I pushed her away because it was horrible. And then she started yelling, called me a loser and that I wasn’t a real doctor and then my sister appeared. And my mum and then her mum and then well, I was so drunk I just stood there and cried which is why I thought you dumped me.’

  ‘You cried?’

  ‘I’m… sensitive. It was quite a fight. My sister gave her a good slapping. She lost an extension. We have a whole branch of the family who hate us. This is why Maddie hit me with the sheets in the lift, isn’t it?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  I don’t know how I feel about any of this. It seems to have turned into a day of shocks and revelations. I look down at a cold cup of tea on my desk then out to the twilight sky.

  ‘It’s all true. I can put Asha on the line now to confirm it all. You should have said something. I was so confused,’ he says.

  I smile in return. ‘I had a husband who made a drama out of our marriage for almost ten years. I just wanted to back away quietly.’

  He looks sad, apologetic.

  ‘Emma, I am nothing like your husband. I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding here but I would never hurt you like he did.’

  I laugh quietly. Simon didn’t hurt me, he carved my heart out while it was still beating.

  ‘But, as you can see,’ I say pointing to my wrecked sofa, ‘that story’s not finished. There is so much drama still here and you shouldn’t have to take that on.’

  He looks at me confused. ‘And what if I do?’

  ‘You want to take on my evil ex-husband who uses every opportunity to screw me over?’

  ‘As long as you don’t mind that I come with an evil ex-fiancée who makes giant cakes.’

  I laugh through my tears.

  ‘We all come with a story. Give me another chance. I like you, I really do. I think you and I could be golden.’

  ‘Like your Casio.’

  I look down at it. I think being a birth partner may have ruined it. I have no words left. He’s here and he’s showing care and authenticity in his words. He’s held me and looked after me. He smiles and looks me in the eye.

  ‘Maybe we need to start again.’

  ‘How?’

  He stands back from me. ‘I’m Jag. Hi. I am thirty years old and didn’t move out of my parents’ house until I was twenty-six. I don’t like Mexican food because I mean… fajitas, tacos. I don’t trust food I have to construct myself. I was with my ex-fiancée for seven years and a couple of weeks ago she tried to kiss at me a wedding. Then, dur
ing the subsequent fight, she told the thirty-odd people present that she was glad she didn’t marry me because I’m very hairy and she didn’t want my furball babies. I am very hairy. My back needs regular mowing in the summer.’

  I laugh.

  ‘I’m Emma. I am thirty-five. I am divorced. My ex-husband had multiple affairs when we were married. In fact, I found out during my divorce proceedings that he shagged one of my wedding guests at our actual wedding. Like a mug, I stayed married to him because I like flogging dead horses. I don’t eat sandwiches and I’ve only had sex with one person since my divorce and I only had sex with him to make sure I knew I could remember how to have sex. I don’t like crying in front of people. I don’t want to get married again.’

  Was that a deal breaker I just added on to the end of that sentence? Also, I talked about sex quite openly there – we’ll blame Lucy for that.

  He looks at me and holds his hand out to shake it. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Emma. What are your thoughts on hummus?’

  Seventeen

  692 days since we drove mum to A&E to X-ray a dislocated thumb

  ‘Christ alive. What on earth is that behind you?’

  ‘It’s a sex shop. That’s the outline of a giant neon penis. Lucy is quite at home here.’

  I smile at the person on the screen. In amongst us sisters is number four, Grace, the globetrotting Callaghan. At the moment, she’s holed up in Amsterdam visiting friends for a wedding and of course, this gives Lucy the perfect opportunity to visit and pretend she’s checking in when really she’s just there for the debauchery. If there was a sister who was the other pea in my pod, it was Grace. She was in finance and like me, understood the need for detail, thoroughness and punctuality. Because of the tragic turn her life had taken, we encouraged her to take the time and space to escape, to heal, but I missed having someone who operated on my wavelength.

  ‘Did we know Lucy snogged girls now?’ she asks me.