The Scars Of Life (The Working Girls Book 4)

by K. L. Humphreys

  He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “You win Natalie, you best call Penelope, she’s probably wearing a hole in her carpet with the pacing she’s doing.”

  I go to recent contacts on my phone and call her, she answers immediately. “Pen, you need to calm down. Shouldn’t I be the nervous one today?”

  She laughs as I intended. “Yes but you should have someone special with you today. Really you should have Richie with you.”

  Hurt spreads through me, as it does every time his name is mentioned lately. “I would love to have him here but he’s not. I want you with me, you don’t have to come.”

  “I want to come, believe me I’m looking forward to it. I just think that a day like today should be special.”

  I shake my head as Charles and I start to leave the house. “You being there is going to make it special. Charles and I are just leaving, we’ll be at yours within ten minutes. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up and step out of the house, the fresh summer air hits me and I smile. This year has flown by, the next time I blink it’ll be Christmas.

  “Penelope will be ready,” I inform Charles as I get into his car, my nerves kicking in now.

  “You’ve made her a very happy woman Natalie. Allowing her to be this involved means so much to her.” He turns the engine and pulls off. Charles and Penelope are really close, I’m not sure how they met but they’re thick as thieves.

  “I’d want my mum here if she could be, but she can’t and Pen, well she’s my surrogate mum. She’s helped me so much and I love her as though she’s my mum. It only makes sense.” She’d be the first person I’d tell when I found out anyway, it’ll be a hundred times better with her being there.

  “I’ve always liked you. Behind that hard exterior is someone who is sweet and caring. Penelope is just like you, she sees so much of herself in you.” He sounds like he’s reminiscing.

  “How did you and Penelope meet?” They’re a weird matching, you wouldn’t expect an ex copper and a Madam to be friends, let alone him working for one.

  “I found her working the street,” he tells me, and my eyes almost pop out of my head, Charles chuckles at my expression. “Yes, as I said you and Penelope have so much in common. Penelope married when she was very young, her and David were a disaster. That man is an arsehole and he made his wife work the streets to earn money. David would bring Annalisa out with him while he sold drugs and checked on his girls.”

  “Girls?” I didn’t think I could hate David any more than I already did but I was wrong. What arsehole takes their kid out while selling drugs?

  “Yes, David was a pimp. Penelope was young and naive and knew nothing about the business David ran, as soon as she did, she escaped.” The smirk on his face is very telling.

  “You helped her escape.”

  He nods. “Yes, I helped her and a seven-month-old Annalisa escape. Penelope’s just like you, she’s a survivor, she did what she needed to do in order for her and her daughter to survive, she became a madam and made a lot of money. David wormed his way into Annalisa’s life when she was ten and ruined that sweet innocent little girl.”

  He pulls up outside Penelope’s house and immediately stops talking. He’s not going to tell me anything else, he’s already said enough. I can’t believe all the shit David put Pen through, he whored out his own wife? Who on earth does that? I can’t wrap my head around it. Pen’s story is something that I don’t think anyone is ever going to know fully. She trusts very few and even those that she does, don’t have the full story.

  The door opens and Penelope slides in beside me, she’s dressed up as she usually is, she’s wearing a red blouse and a tight black skirt. One that looks like it’ll split if she moves the wrong way. Her shoes and handbag are leopard print. The woman has a weird sense of style, but it suits her, I couldn’t imagine her in anything else.

  “Natalie, you look beautiful. I love that skirt.” She’s staring at it and she has that stupid fake grin on her face.

  “You’re full of crap. You hate it.” I look down at my gypsy skirt—it’s long and floaty. I love it, and with the weather getting warmer it’s cool.

  “Yes, it’s hideous, please don’t wear it again.” Her nose crinkles up in distaste.

  “Shut up, I’ll wear what I want.” I don’t say anything about her ugly wardrobe.

  “Don’t pout, you’re not a child,” she says sternly, and I give her the middle finger. “Charming Natalie. Have you any preference as to what gender you’d like?”

  I look at her, what is she playing at? “No, as long as the baby is healthy, I’m happy. Want to tell me why you’re talking like that all of a sudden?”

  “Like what?” She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at me.

  “Like you’re bloody posh.” It’s so annoying. “You’re common as muck, and I don’t understand why you pretend to be otherwise.”

  Her eyes widen in horror and I glance at Charles as he shakes his head. “Common? How dare you! I’m not common.”

  I press my lips together in the hope that I don’t say something or worse, laugh. When I get myself under control, I turn to her. “I’m sorry, you’re right.”

  She shakes her head. “You’re lucky that you’re with child.” Her phone rings, and she frowns as she looks at the caller ID, but she answers it and by the tone of her hushed voice, whatever it is must be serious. I tune out and leave her to have some privacy. I turn to face out the window, watching as we pass by children playing.

  “Miss Adams, are you wanting to find out the gender?” The nurse asks, and I immediately nod. “Okay,” she moves the ultrasound wand around my tiny bump, you wouldn’t realise it’s there if you had no idea I was pregnant. “Aha, there he is.”

  “He?” I gasp as Penelope’s hand convulses in mine, I would turn and look at her, but I’m mesmerised by the picture on the screen. My baby looks so beautiful.

  “Yes, you’re having a boy. Congratulations.” She smiles brightly at me.

  I turn to Pen; her face has the most gorgeous smile on it. “You’re having a boy!” She cries, her eyes glassy.

  “I’m having a boy.” I’m so happy, I honestly didn’t care what I was having, I turn back to the nurse. “Is he okay?” I ask. She’s not said anything about his health and growth.

  “Yes, he’s measuring right for your gestation and he’s developing perfectly,” she tells me as she moves the wand around a bit more.

  “Thank you,” I say, so blissfully happy.

  “I’ll print some of these pictures off for you and then you can go.” She hands me some paper towels so that I can wipe off the gel.

  “Do you have any names in mind?” Pen asks as I clean the cold mess off my stomach.

  “Maybe.” I smile, I had a boy’s name picked out but had no clue to what a girl’s name would be.

  “You have to tell me. How about over lunch?” she asks looking hopeful.

  “That sounds good, I’m getting hungry now.”

  The nurse hands me the pictures and I smile as I look at my baby. He looks so big, but in reality he’s only tiny. I hand the pictures to Penelope and she places them into my handbag for me as I try to get up off the stupid bed that I’m lying on. Once I manage to get up, I throw the paper towels into the bin.

  “Thank you,” I say to the nurse, and Pen and I walk to the door.

  “You’re welcome,” she says as she holds it open for us to walk out.

  “Where do you want to eat?” Pen asks as we exit the hospital and onto the street.

  “Ooh, something greasy,” I say and smile as I watch her groan, she’s currently on a diet and hates when I want to eat junk food because Pen loves her food and has a hard time in turning anything down.

  “Fine, anywhere except McDonalds,” she grumbles.

  “Pen, where do you want to eat? I’ll have something greasy tonight.”

  I get the dirtiest look from her. “If we eat junk now, you’re going to eat it again later on, aren’t you?”

&
nbsp; I give her a look that tells her not to be stupid. “Of course. I’m celebrating.”

  “Great, we’re going to have a pub lunch. You need to eat something other than burgers and chips.” She gives me that mum look of hers, the one that makes me feel like I’m her daughter.

  “Okay, sounds good. Which pub?” I ask just as my stomach rumbles.

  “There’s a lovely one around the corner. Grant and I have eaten there a few times.” Her voice low as she tells me, and I’m wondering why she and Grant are eating close to the hospital, especially a few times.

  She leads me into a quaint little pub. It’s very snug and quiet. There’s a delicious smell coming out from the kitchen, and my mouth waters. Thankfully the barman comes down to the table with two menus for us. I look over the selections, and my eyes keep coming back to the green Thai curry. It sounds amazing. I place the menu down on the table and wait for Pen to come to a decision.

  “What are you going to get?” she asks when she realises, I’m waiting for her to make up her mind.

  “Green Thai curry.” I smile, Penelope doesn’t really like spicy food and me saying curry is instantly going to turn her off it. Although a Thai curry isn’t spicy at all.

  She puts her menu down and waves her fingers for the barman to come. “Penelope, you can't do that shit. He’s not your bloody slave.”

  She crinkles her nose up. “He’s doing his job. I need him to hurry up though.”

  “Yes ladies, what can I get you?” He asks with a smile directed at Penelope.

  “Two Thai green curries and can I please get a glass of water?” she asks sweetly. Is Penelope flirting with him?

  “Make that two glasses of water please,” I ask him, shocked that he glances at me and continues to look at Penelope.

  “Thank you,” Pen says, her voice sultry.

  My eyes wide when he winks at her as he retreats.

  “What?” She asks as though nothing just happened.

  I wave my hand to and fro. “What the hell was that about?” She gives me a blank stare. “Penelope, you were flirting with him, do you do that when Grant’s here with you?” I’m really upset, how can she do this? I thought she really loved Grant.

  Her jaw slackens. “Natalie, I wasn’t flirting.”

  I shake my head. “You were Pen,” I grit out.

  “I didn’t mean to.” She looks upset, but I don’t care if she didn’t mean to or not, she still flirted with him. “I honestly didn’t realise.”

  “Okay.” I’m not sure what else I’m meant to say, she doesn’t believe that she’s doing it, but it’s not my business.

  “So, you have a name chosen?” She sits back against the chair as the barman comes back with two glasses of water, he places them down in front of us and Pen doesn’t even look at him. “Thank you.” She says, her eyes still on me.

  “Thanks,” I mumble as his face falls, when he realises that Pen’s not going to look at him. He walks away, but Pen doesn’t even notice. “Yes, I think so,” I say and love the fact that her face falls; she hates not being told things.

  “Well, what is it?”

  “Malachy,” I say, and instantly my heart starts to race.

  “Ooh, I like that. It’s different but pretty.” That beautiful smile flashes on her face.

  “I think so too.” Ever since I found out I was pregnant it’s been on my mind.

  “Where did you come up with that name?”

  My cheeks flame as heat rises up them; she’s not going to be happy with what I’m about to say. “It was Richie’s dad’s name.”

  Her lips purse in disapproval. “Don’t you think that arsehole has enough? I mean it’s his kid and he’s not even going to be here for it. Let alone have him named after his dad.”

  I take a sip of water, loving the coldness of it. “I understand that, but Pen, when my baby’s older and asks me where I got his name from, I’ll tell him that it was his grandad’s name. I want him to understand that he has at least one grandad that was loved.”

  That seems to appease her. “Okay, it really is a beautiful name. It’s going to suit him.”

  I grin. “Malachy Charles Murphy.”

  Pen nods in approval. “Definitely a beautiful name.” She already knew that I would be giving the baby Richie’s surname.

  Chapter 21

  Eighteen Weeks Later

  “You should be on maternity leave,” Margaret says for what I think is the fifth time today. Thankfully, it’s five o’clock which means there’s only an hour left.

  “Today is my last day, then I’ll be out of your hair.” I give her my best smile, I’m actually sad that today’s my last day. I love it here, and Margaret is so sweet and amazing.

  “I still think you should have gone a few weeks ago. You’re huge Natalie, you could drop at any moment.” She sounds like a broken record.

  “Am I that huge?” I ask looking down at my bump, I can no longer see my feet. I feel fat and ugly. Penelope and Stefanie tell me that I’m beautiful while pregnant and that I’m svelte, whatever the hell that means. I’m all bump and it’s a bloody big one at that.

  She waves her hand. “God no, you’re thirty-seven weeks pregnant Natalie, I’ve seen people bigger than you. I think it’s because you’ve a tiny frame, your bump looks big. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Beautiful isn’t what I picture when I look in the mirror. I’m missing Richie a lot lately. I can’t stop thinking of him. I think it’s because the closer I get to my due date, the more I’m wishing he was here to witness our baby being born.

  “Will you be able to wash Mrs Kilburn’s hair for me?” Margaret asks, as she finishes up with her current client.

  “Of course.” I walk over to the sofa and smile at Mrs Kilburn. “Hi, would you like to come over to the sinks with me, and I’ll wash your hair while Margaret finishes up?”

  “Oh, Natalie,” she cries when she sees me, her wrinkled face breaking out into a smile. “I didn’t think you’d be here today. Look at you, you look absolutely stunning. Not long left now?”

  I help her up off the chair. “Not long left no, three weeks until my due date.”

  She laughs as she gently pats my hand. “I bet you’re counting down the days.”

  “Yes, I’m excited to meet him,” I say as I help her sit at the sinks and turn on the water and wait for it to hit the right temperature.

  “Oh, I bet you can’t. It’s going to be painful but as soon as you hold him, you’ll forget every single bit of pain you went through.” She’s not the only one to tell me that, and I’m actually dreading the labour.

  “Mrs Kilburn, is that okay? It’s not too hot or cold?” I ask as I apply the nozzle over her head.

  “No dear it’s perfect.” She leans her head back against the sink and closes her eyes. She comes in every week to get a wash and blow-dry, a cut every three weeks. It’s her social time; she lives alone and comes here every week to spend time with other people. Her son and daughter-in-law don’t visit her much.

  I wash her hair, giving her head a massage as I do. She sighs contently as my fingernails scrape against her head. I glance over at Margaret, she’s finished with her client; she’s just cleaning the hairs off of her. I use the conditioner and lather it into her ends. It doesn’t take me too long to wash it, she doesn’t have very long hair. I rinse her hair and grab a towel and squeeze the excess water off.

  “Okay, Mrs Kilburn you’re all set for Margaret,” I say as I help her up off of the chair.

  “Thank you my dear,” she says as she pats my hand again.

  “You’re very welcome.” I help her into her seat, but this bending down malarkey is hell on my back. Pain spreads throughout my lower back and I bite my lips, so I don’t cry out in pain. It's been hurting on and off all day, this afternoon the pain has gotten worse. Right now, though, the pain is the strongest.

  “Natalie, could you clear up the hair for me please?” Margaret asks as she begins to do Mrs Kilburn’s hair.
“Mrs Kilburn is our last client of the evening, so you can start cleaning up.”

  I sigh in relief, glad that this day is over, also relieved that today’s my last day. I walk out the back and grab a broom and sweep up the floor, again pain radiates through my back. The sooner I get home the better, I can lay on the sofa and relax. Usually after I get home after work I crash and sleep for an hour or two. Today though, I’m more tired than I usually am, I’m sore and irritable.

  We say goodbye to Mrs Kilburn and Margaret cashes up while I finish cleaning up. Tilly who’s usually here is off sick today, which means I’m doing all the shitty jobs alone. The more I bend over the worse the pain is getting, although now it’s not just when I bend it’s happening even when I’m standing. The sooner I’m home the better, maybe a soak in the bath when I get in will help?

  “Natalie, you ready to go?” Margaret asks, turning the lights off.

  It’s already dark outside, God, it’s hard to believe we’re in November already. The winter has definitely arrived, although some may argue that it’s technically not winter until December, I call bullshit, have they felt how bloody cold it is out there?

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” I smile as I put my jacket on. Praying that I can do the zip up. Each day it’s a struggle to get the jacket done up, in the past three weeks I’ve busted three zips, two jackets and one jumper. The zip does up with minimal struggle and I catch Margaret laughing at me. “It’s not funny.”

  “It is a bit, don’t worry, you’ll be able to fit back into them in no time,” she says as she pulls a white envelope out of her handbag and hands it to me. “This is for you, do not open it until you get home.”

  I frown as I take it from her, the heaviness of it makes me wonder what the hell it is. “Margaret, you didn’t need to give me anything. You and Penelope threw me a baby shower.”

  She smiles at me. “Yes, and that was stuff for the baby, that envelope is for you. Now get your arse out of here.”

  “Thank you.” I step out of the salon and wait for her to lock up, once she does, she pulls me into her arms. “Thank you for everything Margaret.”