The Chance of a Lifetime

by kendra Smith

  ‘Mummy’s having a baby! Mummy’s having a baby!’ Andy was chanting to any passer-by on the promenade.

  ‘Tom, we’re here for two years. Remember?’ Katie felt an enormous sensation of a heavy weight landing on her heart and the world closing in. He dropped her hand, and stuffed his hand back in his pocket, angrily.

  ‘What’s wrong with you, Katie?’

  ‘What’s wrong, Tom, is that I’m not sure I want to be here,’ she whispered. A man in Lycra running shorts and a baseball cap ran past and waved at them.

  Maybe this is my punishment for what nearly happened with Adam? For my wicked thoughts… She immediately felt guilty. And yet… she didn’t want any more children. She couldn’t cope with any more children, could she? No nanny, no help. God, she could barely cope with James and Andy. She turned to look at the boys on the beach, kicking sand and laughing, then felt instantly guilty. She loved them so much. She loved Tom, but it was so, so hard at the moment…

  She glanced at Tom, saw his jaw firmly set, as he stared out at the ocean. Shivering despite the warmth of the sun on her face, she studied the tiny sprouts of stubble on his chin – some were going grey – and she wondered just how well she knew her husband.

  9

  As she pushed the buggy back up the hill, she didn’t see a soul. Rivers of sweat drenched her back and she felt sick; today was apparently hot for October she’d been told at the shops. Why had she thought this would be quick? She had dropped James off, parked the car at home and decided to take Andy on a ‘quick walk to the local shops’ for cakes – perhaps not a good idea when you were three months pregnant. Turned out she had already been eight weeks pregnant when she fainted – which accounted for all her ups and downs, the nausea – and, she realised, staring down, her ever-expanding bust.

  Hauling the buggy backwards inside the front door, and bumping over the threshold, she remembered that Ann would be round any moment. I really can’t be bothered making friends, she guiltily thought, making her way to the laundry room in the garden. Perhaps she’d bullet point her best bits and hand them out on flyers in the supermarket? Short-circuit the making of friends ritual. Hi, honey, please take my personality résumé and let me know if it suits. She was thinking all this as she emptied the boys’ pockets and loaded the washing machine, humming to herself.

  James’s contained: one stone, a pair of plastic tweezers, sand, two dead flies (minus legs), a crumpled Pokémon card.

  In Andy’s: a crisp packet, four hairy insect legs, a British Airways pepper sachet.

  I love my boys, she thought, smiling to herself. I really love them.

  *

  Ann was at the door, holding a baby bath with some soft cuddly toys inside it, including a cornflower blue rabbit with fluffy ears. Ann had a lovely kind face, bright green eyes and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. In the bright sunlight Katie noticed sweat across the very fine blonde downy hairs on her cheek, as she leant over to take the baby bath from the other woman. Ann stood at the doorway and looked backwards. ‘Steep steps!’ she said.

  ‘Yes, sorry,’ and Katie nodded. Ann was wearing a lilac flowing kaftan dress, with tiny beads embroidered into it, which glistened in the sun, and long, turquoise dangly earrings slightly tangled in her messy blonde bob.

  Walking past Katie and into the house, she smiled. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Yeah, tired,’ Katie sighed.

  ‘I think you’re doing very well, considering.’

  What is she considering? thought Katie. Maybe she means ‘considering your house is a tip.’ Who knows, mused Katie, and frankly, I’m not sure I care.

  Clicking the button on the kettle, Katie placed a Twinings English Breakfast teabag in two bone china cups with cheery daffodils on the side. ‘Oh tea in the morning, how nice,’ said Ann, taking the cup from Katie.

  Katie frowned. ‘Would you like coffee instead?’

  ‘No, you’re right.’ (Am I? How am I right… Oh yes, she means all right…) ‘I normally drink coffee at this time, but I’ll go along with it!’ Ann laughed.

  I am totally lost, thought Katie, in more ways than this.

  ‘My mum’s grandfather was from England,’ Ann offered.

  ‘Right,’ said Katie as she poured water over the tea bags, wondering what to say next.

  ‘Mum said he used to like tea.’

  ‘Most English do.’ Katie smiled, handing her the cup. ‘Where did you grow up?’

  ‘Oh – miles from Sydney; we had a farm on the Central Coast – loads of chickens and sheep – couple of horses. I used to help out at a riding school. I love horses… I even did a bit of riding in Sydney when I first moved here.’ Her eyes were shining. ‘We had a horse we kept in stables – but I gave it up when I got pregnant.’ She looked down at the table.

  ‘Do you miss it?’

  ‘Sometimes. I stopped riding when I had Ed – I, um, expected to have a lot more—’ She stopped mid-sentence. ‘Anyway – what about you, baby number three, eh?’ said Ann, staring pointedly at Katie’s rounded belly.

  ‘Yes. Sort of happened by accident, really.’ Katie laughed. She could see Ann flinch, and wondered what she’d said wrong.

  ‘You’re lucky. You and your hubby must be quite fertile—’

  Katie stared at her. What an odd thing to say. ‘Well, I guess we are lucky, but sometimes, I’m not so sure!’ garbled Katie, waving at all the detritus of family life scattered around the room – life stuck to the fridge: Chinese takeaway menus, doctors’ phone numbers, photographs of the kids and shopping lists; laundry baskets overflowing; a Bob the Builder towel draped over the back of the radiator, wet from James’s swimming lesson.

  She looked over to Ann who was sitting at the table by then; she couldn’t help but notice a gloomy look in her eyes when she tried to smile.

  ‘Sorry, Ann, have I said something wrong?’ Katie pulled a chair out and sat next to her, placed the cup of tea down and watched as Ann managed a smile.

  ‘Oh, no, don’t worry hun, it’s OK, just a bit of a sore point between me and Paul at the moment.’

  ‘You want more kids and he doesn’t?’ Katie ventured.

  ‘No – we both do.’ Ann turned to look at Katie, her eyes wide. She twisted her teacup around. ‘We don’t seem be able to have any more… long story. Anyway, how you finding it here?’ She smiled broadly at Katie.

  Katie sniffed, unsure quite what to say. A confession to feeling isolated in a foreign country and being unsure she wanted the baby she was carrying wouldn’t really be the best icebreaker right now, she decided. Luckily, Andy appeared with toilet paper draped around his arm to distract them.

  ‘Mum, Mum, help!’

  ‘Sorry, Ann.’ Katie went upstairs to help Andy. ‘There you go, all done,’ she said in a pseudo cheery voice. She counselled herself on the way down the stairs, C’mon girl, New Friends. You can do it… Deep breath… only two years… A-choo! As she got to the last step, Ann was standing there and shot Katie an odd look.

  ‘Oh! Just chatting to myself – reminding myself to squeeze my pelvic floor with every step downstairs,’ said Katie, smiling a little too hard. ‘The sneezing doesn’t help!’

  On the bottom step, the rampant plastic animals were still engaged with each other and she raised her eyebrows at them.

  ‘A little less of that and my pelvic floor wouldn’t be so bad!’ Katie grinned.

  They both burst out laughing. I like her, thought Katie, as she smiled at her new ally in her new, quirky country. I really do like her.

  *

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t if I were you, sweetie.’

  ‘Well, you’re not, are you?’ Katie had wanted to say, but she bit her lip, looked at her smug male doctor, with his ordered desk and files and Aussie Rules ‘footie’ pictures on the wall; his pictures of his dog, his wife, his – let me look again, thought Katie – bloody horse; and his I’ve-sired-four-children expression and the obvious maleness all around him. You’re NOT me, you’re
NOT pregnant, you didn’t nearly shag your best friend’s husband in a fit of hormones and you’re not awash with oestrogen that makes you acutely homesick and gives you piles. He was so Australian, Katie almost expected him to stand up and start singing the national anthem, ‘Advance Australia Fair’.

  She had taken herself off to the doctor’s after Ann had left before her hay fever became any worse. She had an appointment at a children’s nursery later on and didn’t want to sneeze all over the staff.

  ‘Katie?’ His voice went up at the end. He had dark hair greying at the temples, piercing blue eyes and he’d clearly been a bit of a looker in his day.

  ‘Sorry, miles away.’ She glanced back at him from looking at his ego wall. Do UK doctors have pictures of their cattle on their surgery walls?

  ‘I was just saying that if I were you, Katie, I’d not take any antihistamine.’ He looked at her and smiled patronisingly. She felt like casually knocking over her urine sample as she reached for a tissue on his desk.

  Her British upbringing came to the rescue. Sitting back down, she glanced at her sparkly turquoise flip-flops with tiny seashells. She took a deep breath. Although she wanted to say ‘Just pass me the anti-sneezing stuff, the referral to the psycho guy and let’s be done with it,’ instead she found herself saying, ‘OK’. There was that smile again. Move your lips – hold.

  *

  ‘Coffee please.’ Katie sighed, then smiled to the bloke behind the coffee machine at the café. She breathed in the delicious smell of bacon and warm toast. Behind the counter was an array of fresh wraps, delicate pastries, translucent Vietnamese rice paper rolls covering plump, pink prawns, fresh soup; she could smell the aroma of cloves and noticed the slices of shiny pink ham off the bone. Coffee Guy looked nice. There were no pictures of his family, horses or dogs in the background.

  ‘Cappuccino, flat white, long black, macchiato, mocha, latte, chai latte, darl?’ He pointed to the blackboard behind him.

  OK, think, THINK. She looked up at the blackboard. The writing was terrible. Cappuccino was the only coffee-related word she confidently recognised so she ordered that, decaf. (What was a Chair Latte?) Coffee Guy brought it over to her along with some biscuits for Andy, who was perched on her lap.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the new text message.

  Hi. Morning tea set for next Tues at Clontarf Park next to sailing club. Meet some of the girls! 10 a.m. Ann.xx

  How sweet, Ann was organising a get-together, really being a mate. She drained her coffee cup and wiped Andy’s mouth. Then she tried to get up from the extremely deep, comfy sofa in the coffee shop.

  ‘Mummy’s stuck!’ Andy squealed delightedly. A few of the customers turned to stare at her.

  ‘Need some help?’ Coffee Guy was offering her his hand.

  Yes I do. I need to find a kindergarten, an unpatronising doctor, a decent hairdresser and possibly a therapist because you look a teensy bit like Adam who I am trying to forget and my husband and I slept with our backs against each other again last night. ‘That would be nice.’ She smiled. Coffee Guy took her hand gently and with the other he held it under her elbow and helped her up from the sofa.

  ‘Little Giants Nursery, do you know where that is?’

  Coffee Guy scratched his head and said he wasn’t sure; didn’t think he’d noticed anywhere around here that sold plants.

  Plants?

  ‘I’m looking for a nursery. For my four-year-old.’ She smiled, nodded at Andy.

  ‘Ah, you mean a kindy!’

  ‘No. That’s the first year of school, isn’t it? Look, don’t worry,’ she said, quickly yanking at Andy’s hand. She was already ten minutes late. Nice guy, but plants?

  In the car, Andy looked up at her beseechingly as she tried to strap him into his car seat. ‘Mummy? Mummy, wait!’

  ‘Yes, darling! What is it? We’re late.’

  ‘Do you know that I have two willies?’

  Katie stared at her son and wondered if there was an invisible gas around that was making everyone a bit stupid – including her son.

  ‘No you don’t, darling, you have one.’

  ‘No, see? Mummy, look! James showed me!’ She stared as he yanked down his Spider-Man pants and pulled back his foreskin.

  *

  When Katie finally arrived, she was greeted by a big whoop. ‘Get lost, did ya?’ A woman who looked like a female version of Rod Stewart appeared at the door. She was in her sixties, with bright pink lipstick and a shock of blonde cropped hair. She was smiling at Katie, her gold-hooped earrings dangling jauntily from each ear.

  Yes, somewhere around the morning tea, everyone telling me ‘I’m right’, attempting to buy a hoover and people calling me darl, thought Katie, protectively putting a hand over her belly.

  ‘Well, I just asked the chap at the coffee shop where a nursery was and he said he didn’t know anywhere round here that sold plants!’

  Snorts of laughter from Mrs-Rod-Stewart. Have I said something funny?

  ‘Nurseries are where we buy slug pellets, sweetie. I’m Carol by the way.’ The owner grinned and held out her hand, then knelt down and said ‘hello’ to Andy who beamed at her instantly.

  She showed Katie round a slightly messy nursery; it was light years away from the quiet London Montessori nursery James used to go to. Why were the children so noisy here?

  ‘We have a great system here,’ explained Carol. ‘Let the kids direct the day, you know? Some want to paint, some read. We just guide them.’ She laughed, and Katie noticed some gold fillings in the back of her mouth.

  Katie raised her eyebrows. ‘Right, I see.’

  ‘Just had a family go back to America, darl, and we do have a waiting list, but, you know, seeing as you’re here, there’s a space if ya want it.’ Mrs-Rod-Stewart seemed to be someone who did things her way.

  Will Andy want to come here every day and rush around like a lunatic? Will Andy thrive? Will he learn anything other than how to clean out a rabbit’s cage with that awful woman? Possibly not, but we can just about afford this place if I sell some more jewellery and he’ll be happy, mused Katie, as a boy whizzed past her making aeroplane zooming noises with his arms outstretched. It will do till we get home.

  10

  The sky was totally blue. Katie looked up. There was not one cloud in the sky. She let her gaze go from the heavens to the horizon. She was sitting on a tartan picnic rug watching Andy play in the park, a backdrop of sailing boats, a yacht club and a couple of divers who had just strolled into the sea, air tanks clanking on their backs, ready to explore the marine wonderland. It was mid-October – too hot for her to sit directly in the sun. To achieve this kind of panorama and weather living in London would mean a five-hour flight, she realised, followed by a lengthy bus trip, a Turkish phrase book and a very good holiday rep. This place was ten minutes from her house. It was beautiful. She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes.

  Ann was next to her setting out some neatly-cut sandwiches, a cake and huge watermelon slices. Ann looked like she had been a bit of a hippy in her youth: she was wearing a denim skirt with a cheesecloth top, which had small pink and yellow flowers embroidered on the side. Her hair lifted in the breeze as she smoothed it down and looked towards the kiosk. She glanced at Katie and smiled.

  A few of the other mums from James’s class turned up carrying Tupperware bursting with sandwiches, medleys of fresh fruit, fairy bread, cupcakes. Katie watched, as if surveying a scene from a movie: sundresses flapped, picnic rugs came out, crisps packets were opened, noses wiped, sun cream applied, hats pulled over heads. Oh how lovely, delicious coffee over there, great; brought some fairy bread for the littlies, isn’t it beautiful?

  How are you finding it? She smiled politely and said all the right things. Oh you know, husband offered a job, great lifestyle, fantastic for the kids, isn’t it? She didn’t mention how broke they were, how she missed stupid things like British weather presenters, about how she was terrified of spiders. She
told them the Hoover story – it was much better to tell them that than say she thought her marriage was on shaky ground.

  Ann’s blonde bob was blowing in the breeze; she had a tiny pink hairgrip holding a wisp of hair off her face. As her hand went up to touch the clasp, Katie noticed a red mark on her wrist.

  ‘Ooh. That looks sore?’ Katie nodded at it.

  Ann quickly held it with her other hand. ‘It’s nothing. Burnt it on the stupid oven.’ She smiled.

  ‘Sorry if I said the wrong thing last week,’ Katie said, leaning in towards her on the rug.

  Ann tucked her bare feet under her legs and shrugged at Katie. ‘Every second woman around here seems to be pregnant.’ She rolled her eyes and nodded over to a group of pregnant women chatting by the swings.

  ‘I’ve just bought some kits,’ she continued, ‘to try and help Paul and I along.’ She opened up her velvet bag to show Katie what was inside. A bundle of ‘Aussie Ovulation Kits’ were poking out the bag.

  Katie nodded her head enthusiastically. ‘Excellent!’ She wasn’t sure quite what else to say.

  ‘My doctor says it’s pretty accurate, pinpoints exactly when Paul and I should, you know…’ She smiled at Katie and her whole face lit up.

  ‘Good luck!’ Katie touched Ann’s hand as Ann smoothed her cheesecloth smock down and leaned over to a tray of cupcakes. ‘Iced these with Ed last night.’ She picked them up and handed the tray to Katie. ‘They’re a bit of a mess, but we had fun!’

  Ed – Ann’s one and only boy – was in James’s class. Short, with straight dark hair and a cheeky grin. James and he had become quite friendly; James told Katie that they were maybe going to join a footie club at lunch times - Auskick.

  ‘Ed and James were talking about a footie club, at school.’ Katie glanced at Ann. ‘James and his dad follow Arsenal back home.’