by Peter Martin
Effortlessly he picked her up and carried her to the house. Then with difficulty he opened the door, brought her in and laid her on the hall carpet.
He blamed himself for having suggested the liqueur coffee. But never mind – it was Christmas. She was entitled to one lapse.
After carrying her upstairs, he pulled off her coat and shoes and settled her on the bed. He worried about undressing her and getting her into bed. The dress came off easily, but the rest would be more difficult.
‘What are you doing?’ she mumbled as he tried to get her bra off.
‘Trying to undress you,’ he said.
She sniggered. ‘Hey, I hope you’re not trying to take advantage of me.’
‘Would I ever?’
‘Maybe, if you could get away with it.’
‘No way – I’m not interested in self-gratification.’
She laughed. ‘Self what?’
‘Can you sit up?’
‘I’ll try,’ she said.
He gave her a hand. Eventually together they got her nightie on, and she got back into bed unaided.
‘Thank you, John. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
John smiled.
‘So, what were you going to do to me tonight?’
She grinned again. ‘You’ll have to hurry back to find out, my darling.’
He rushed to the bathroom, undressed and washed, put on some deodorant and brushed his teeth. His heart beat faster as he got to the bedroom, but he found Angie spark out on the bed. He smiled to himself; he should have realised what would happen. Never mind – his time would come.
As he lay beside her, he thought about their earlier conversation. He felt so sorry for Sarah. He was determined never to be like Jack, if it ever came to it.
<><><>
pg. 7
On Sunday morning, John woke to find Angie gone. Perhaps she was in the bathroom. Then he heard a noise, as if someone was retching. He got up like a shot and walked to the door to see Angie bent over the sink, holding her stomach.
‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head. She looked very pale, and he wondered if this had something to do with Friday night when she’d drunk and eaten too much. She’d been pretty out of sorts yesterday, come to think of it.
‘This is the trouble at Christmas – everybody goes mad. Drinking and eating too much. And at some stage you have to pay for it.’
‘I feel sick, and my stomach keeps heaving, but I haven’t actually thrown up.’
‘That might come later. It might have been something you ate that didn’t agree with you.’
‘No, John. It’s not that. I know what it is. I shouldn’t have been drinking at all on Friday, and God knows what damage I might have done.’
‘Angie, you’re talking in riddles. What are you on about?’
She suddenly pushed him out of the way and vomited violently into the toilet bowl. When she’d recovered, she wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and said, ‘This was meant to be a surprise. I’m sorry, John – but I’m going to have a baby. I can’t make it any plainer than that.’
John’s eyes widened and for a moment he was lost for words. But he suddenly squeezed her tightly and yelped with joy.
‘This is unbelievable! We were only talking about this other night with Sarah and Jack! Amazing! When did you find out?’
‘Yesterday morning. So I was already pregnant on Friday when I drank all that wine, and that’s why I’m so worried. And why I’ve waited until now to tell you.’
‘Darling, don’t be silly. OK, so you had too much to drink, but you weren’t paralytic. I reckon there’s only a very tiny chance of there being anything being wrong with the baby. But if you’re worried, go and see the doctor.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘I am. So what made you suspicious in the first place?’
‘You know how irregular I am, but I’m almost three weeks late this time, so I thought I’d do a test to be on the safe side. I felt sick yesterday too, but today’s the first time I’ve been sick.’
‘Anyway, this is great news – the best Christmas present ever. At last our family will be complete!’
‘I hope it will, although I’m not looking forward to the next few months, especially since it looks like I’ll suffer with morning sickness.’
‘You want this to be common knowledge yet?’
‘No, not yet. Let’s keep it to ourselves until we’re sure everything’s OK.’
pg. 8
‘But we have to tell everyone! Our mums and dads first, of course, then friends and colleagues.’
‘I’ll hate that. Everybody congratulating me and asking me questions. Just the thought of it makes me cringe.’
‘Well, that’s only natural. You’ll get used it, especially when the baby starts to show.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Still feel sick?’
‘Yes, not so bad as earlier on, but my appetite’s gone. Don’t feel hungry at all.’
‘I’m sure it will pass. They say the first three months are the worst.’
She pulled a face. ‘The thought of the birth fills me with dread, too. In fact, the whole idea of being pregnant frightens me.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Listen, I’ll be with you as much as I can. And any time you need to go to the clinic or the doctor’s, I’ll come with you. And remember at the end of it, we’ll have our own beautiful baby.’
‘Yeah, there’s that I suppose.’
‘You do want the baby, don’t you?’
‘Yes. Of course. This is just me being silly. It’s just … Well, my mum was bad after she had me – she had postnatal depression. She suffered with it for a long time.’
‘That’s not to say you’ll be the same. My mum had a bad case of morning sickness when she had me too. She felt sick through the whole pregnancy. You never can tell. And anyway, when it’s all over you’ll forget about it. There are other worries, like looking after our baby.’
‘I know. That terrifies me, too. I’ve never even changed a nappy. How on earth am I going to look after a baby?’
‘We’ll manage, Angie. Other people do.’
<><><>
Later that night, as John snored alongside her, Angie remained wide awake, pondering over this wondrous thing that had happened to her. While she’d wanted kids, she had no idea what to do, or how she’d feel. She should have been happy, but all she felt was terror around everything to do with having a baby. But she had family and friends who would rally round her when needed. Surely she’d get through this with their help? And John would be her rock, she knew, there to give her encouragement. Sometimes she wondered what she’d do without him.
pg. 9
Chapter 2
he woke early the next morning, feeling sick. She tossed and turned in bed, trying to get rid of the churning in her stomach. John, although half-asleep, S seemed aware of her restlessness.
‘All right, darling?’ he mumbled.
‘Just sick.’
‘Can I get you anything?’
‘No, no, I’m fine. Go back to sleep. It’s only four o’clock – you can sleep for another two hours yet if you want.’
Within seconds he was asleep again.
But Angie had to get up. Downstairs in the kitchen she made herself a drink: black tea, as she suddenly couldn’t face the thought of drinking milk. She took it into the living room and switched on the TV, but her mind wandered. Her heart beat fast and she was short of breath. Panic wasn’t something she’d suffered from before, but now she found herself shaking. God, this should be the happiest time of her life and she felt like this. She couldn’t worry John with it, though, when he was so thrilled about the baby.
He came down a little later in his dressing gown, yawning as he saw her sitting in front of the TV.
‘You’re up early, Mummy,’ he said, bending down to kiss her on the lips.
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ she admitted.
‘Why�
�s that?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps because we had an early night.’
‘Can I get you anything? A drink, or I’ll cook you some breakfast if you haven’t already eaten?’
‘Thanks, but I’m not sure what to have to eat. Can’t say I’m very hungry.’
‘Feeling sick again?’
‘Yeah, as sick as a dog. But I haven’t been sick – yet.’
‘That’s something, anyway.’ He looked worried, and she didn’t know how to put his mind at rest when her own was still in such turmoil.
‘How about some dry toast? That’s supposed to be light on your stomach.’
She shook her head. ‘Later. Think I’ll have a shower and get dressed.’
‘All right. Give me a shout if you need your back scrubbing.’
‘OK,’ she said, trying not to smile.
As the shards of hot water hit her, she felt a little better. When she came out, though, she felt giddy and had to hold on to the side of the bath. As she dried herself, her stomach acquired a life of its own, causing her to suddenly retch over in the sink … and then again and again. As before, nothing much came up, but it was unpleasant and she ached. She had to sit on the toilet for a while before those sudden urges to throw up passed.
pg. 10
‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ If this was what she had to put up with for the next eight months, she thought she might die.
She got dressed, wiped her face with a tissue and ventured downstairs, taking a deep breath and wondering how on earth to hide her feelings from John.
And also, she had work today. She was an estate agent and had at least five appointments to show people around properties. What if she threw up while showing clients around? How embarrassing would that be?
She dressed smartly in a beige suit and applied her make-up with a shaky hand. As she came downstairs, she smelt bacon and eggs; John was making himself a fry-up. The smell made her want to puke.
‘Ah, there you are,’ he grinned. ‘Want some bacon and egg? Got plenty here.’
She shook her head. ‘Can’t face anything right now. And I’ve got to go to work in fifteen minutes.’
‘Well, at least eat something. You’re supposed to be eating for two, you know.’
‘Very funny. John, I’m not in the mood for your silly jokes, please keep them to yourself.’
He opened his palms towards her. ‘OK. Sorry.’
‘I’ll just have another cup of tea, and then I’ll be off.’
‘All right, sit yourself down and I’ll make you one.’
Sitting at the table, she took in a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks and breathed out. She shouldn’t go in today, but she had to. There was only one other person in the office, and nobody would be available to cover her appointments.
They couldn’t afford to lose out on potential buyers.
She felt John’s eyes on her as she drank her tea, and waited for his inevitable comment.
‘You ought to phone in sick; you look as white as a sheet. I could always ring up for you, say you’re ill, if you like.’
‘No, I can’t take a sickie already. Too busy. And who knows what time I’ll need to take off in the next few months? I’ll just have to grin and bear it, and hope for the best. ’
‘OK, it’s your call.’
She got up and grabbed her coat and briefcase. They kissed, and for a moment she had tears in her eyes. But then she smiled, pulled herself together and went out. She got in her Corsa and drove to the office, where she checked out her appointments and then set off again for a house just outside Dexford. Fingers crossed she’d be all right.
She didn’t feel her usual confident self as she made her way to 18 Chevel Avenue, a pre-war semi in a quiet cul-de-sac. Mr and Mrs Osborne were standing on the footpath, waiting for her.
The house was empty, so she had the keys to get in. She shook hands with the Osbornes and went inside. Hopefully they’d like it.
pg. 11
Her morning went well, with two possible sales, and one of the owners she did a valuation for looked likely to use Elliott’s estate agents to sell their property.
The last appointment was at a flat on the fifth floor of an exclusive block that usually sold very well at inflated prices.
Once inside, the thought of climbing the stairs made her feel faint, so she took the lift, but the movement made her stomach lurch. Glad to be out of the lift, she pressed the doorbell and Mrs Reynolds showed her through to the living room.
‘Cup of tea?’ she asked.
‘Oh, yes please, no milk and no sugar,’ Angie said, noticing a baby of about twelve months fast asleep in a baby bouncer in the corner. She grimaced.
Within five minutes, Mrs Reynolds returned with the tea. Angie would have liked to drink the lot in one go, but that would be rude, so she just had a mouthful.
‘How old is he?’
‘Fourteen months. That’s the reason we need to move. We want a detached or a semi with a big garden, somewhere for him to run around.’
Angie measured each room carefully and took photos, then discussed fees and gave a valuation. She felt sick again. Drinking her tea, she hoped it would pass, but it didn’t.
‘Sorry, Mrs Reynolds, is it all right if I use your bathroom? That tea has gone right through me.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Angie rushed off, embarrassed, and just made it to the bathroom before she vomited in the sink. Luckily there wasn’t much, as she hadn’t eaten anything. She rinsed it away and wiped it with some tissues, hoping Mrs Reynolds wouldn’t notice. But a few minutes later she came out, red-faced, to find the woman standing in the hallway.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m OK. I’m sorry, but I was sick in your sink. I’ve cleaned it all up.’
‘Perhaps you ought to go home.’
‘Yes, maybe I will. I’m pregnant, you see – I’ve only just found out – and it looks like I’m going to get morning sickness. My mum had it really badly.’
‘Oh, I am sorry. I went through the same with him. It was nine months of hell – although he’s made up for it since. Congratulations, anyway. I hope you have a better time than me!’
‘Thanks, I hope so, too. If you want us to sell your flat for you, please give me a bell, and I’ll set it in motion. You’ll find our rates are very competitive, and as we’re the biggest agent in the area, you should get lots of viewings.’
‘Thank you. I’ll be in touch. And good luck.’
Angie was extremely glad to get out of there. How humiliating. She guessed Mrs Reynolds was bound to go elsewhere after what had happened.
pg. 12
When she got in her car, she broke down. Having wanted a baby at first, suddenly she wished she wasn’t pregnant. Her emotions were all over the place.
Somehow, she got through the rest of the day, mainly because she spent the afternoon in the office, catching up with her paperwork. But she had never been so glad to get out of there.
As she parked on the drive of their four-bed detached house, she wasn’t sure she could face John. She didn’t want him to see her like this. It would be Christmas in a few days, and she was having a baby. She should be over the moon.
John usually put the dinner on if he got home first, which he had this evening as his car was on the drive. The oven would be on, but what if she couldn’t eat it, or was sick? He’d be mortified.
She heard him in the kitchen, singing to himself without a care in the world.
When she came in, he turned and gave her a warm smile, like he did when they first went out as teenagers, eight years ago. A smile that used to send her weak at the knees. She put her arms around him and held him close, kissed him tenderly, hoping she could get through this for his sake as well as her own. A baby should bring them closer together, make their happiness complete. But why did she suddenly feel so unsure?
pg. 13
Chapter 3
o, how was your day?’ John asked as they parted.
‘Oh, just run-of-the-mill stuff, really. Might have made two or three
‘S sales – we’ll see. I’ll just get changed, back in five minutes.’
‘OK, smart. The dinner’s done. I’ll dish it out, shall I?’
‘Yes,’ she said, hoping he hadn’t noticed her flushed cheeks.
The plates were on the table when she came back.
‘There you are,’ he smiled. ‘Are you hungry now, after this morning?’
‘Not really. But I suppose I’ll have to try to eat.’
‘You do, now you’re having a baby.’
‘Thought you might get that in.’
‘You must eat for you as well. Please try. I got out early, spent ages cooking this – and let me tell you, even if I do say so myself, it’s delicious.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
He ate his casserole quickly, trying not to look at how she was getting on.
‘Want to go out anywhere afterwards?’
‘I think I’ll pass on that. My stomach still feels like it’s working overtime.’
‘OK, no probs. Shall we just drive over to my folks? We could give them the good news.’
‘Can’t we keep it to ourselves for a while? I don’t want everyone fussing over me.’
John felt hurt. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. ‘Sure, if that’s what you want. Will you do the same with your dad?’
‘Yes – just until I get used to the idea.’
‘OK, Angie. Whatever you say.’
John finished his meal while Angie picked at hers, eating tiny mouthfuls very slowly.
‘Hey, if you can’t eat any more, it’s no big deal. It won’t hurt my feelings.
I can see you’re not feeling great.’
‘Sorry. Normally I’d have asked for more.’
‘Yeah, I know. Have you made your doctor’s appointment yet? You need to start the ball rolling with midwives and stuff, don’t you? And they’ll probably prescribe you something for the morning sickness, too. Why don’t you make an appointment tomorrow?’
