Bella Summer Takes a Chance (33 page)

‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’

‘Noo, it’s fine,’ he whimpered.

‘How long was that contraction?’ She demanded.

‘Forty-two seconds.’

‘It couldn’t have been. That had to be at least two minutes long! Are you doing it right?’

‘What, telling time? Yes, Clare, I’m doing it right.’

‘It’s just that I think I’m in hard labour,’ Clare whined.

‘You’re not in hard labour yet,’ Kat said.

‘How do you know?!’

‘Because you can speak during your contraction. When it really hurts you won’t be able to speak.’

‘Are you saying this doesn’t hurt?’

‘No,
Liebchen
, I’m saying it doesn’t hurt as much as it will when you’re in hard labour.’

Clare welled up. ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered.

‘Kat! Don’t be so cruel. There are times for your honesty. This is not one of them.’

‘It’s okay, B., I made Kat promise to be honest. It’s better to know. I’ll get through this, right? Millions of women have babies. They do it all the time. Some even have more than one.’

‘That’s right, honey, our bodies are made to have babies,’ I assured her. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘How the fuck do you know that?’ Her alter ego snapped.

She was right. I was talking complete bollocks. If I were Clare, I’d pay someone every penny I had to knock me out and give me a C-section.

‘Why don’t I take a turn outside?’ I said. ‘Kat, we’re only allowed in here two at a time.’

I nearly ran for the door.

Later, after losing to Faith playing rock, paper, scissors, I returned to the crime scene. The Shag had aged badly in the interim. He staggered to the waiting room.

‘I’m tired,’ Clare said. ‘How much longer is this going to last? Can I have some gas, please?’

‘Of course, here you go, love.’ The midwife handed Clare a mask. She had a very soothing manner. ‘Now, you don’t have to suck it so hard, just breathe normally. That’s it.’

‘Is this normal?’ I asked her quietly. ‘The pain, I mean. And the reaction.’

‘Oh, yes, it’s perfectly normal. I’ve seen much worse. Men go out on gurneys sometimes.’

‘Seriously?’

‘No, I’m joking, but it can be very intense and some women don’t cope all that well, to be honest.’

‘Where is Clare in that range of coping?’

She considered my friend, who was trying to inhale the entire canister in a single breath. ‘She’s not one of the easy ones.’

Faith convinced the midwife to let us all in the room as long as two of us swore-to-God-and-hoped-to-die that we’d sit in chairs in the corner. That gave us front row seats for very grotesque live theatre. We were all exhausted but finally, things were starting to get somewhere. Clare looked like she’d been for a swim. At the midwife’s announcement that she was ten centimetres dilated and ready to deliver, Faith quipped from the chair, ‘Ten centimetres. What do you know, that’s a Manolo heel!’

Understandably, Clare ignored her.

Kat said to The Shag, who’d finally regained some colour in his face, ‘Maybe you want to rub Clare’s feet? It might relax her.’ She came over to sit down, pushing me off the chair. My turn, then.

‘If you touch my feet, I will kill you,’ Clare said between contractions. ‘And if you so much as peek under that sheet I swear I will never speak to you again.’

His face said he’d rather watch his own appendix operation. He was at no risk of sudden curiosity.

‘Excuse me,’ I said to the midwife. ‘When can she have the epidural?’

‘Oh, I don’t think she’ll need it at this point. She’s ready to push.’

‘I do need it, give it to me!’ Clare screamed.

‘I’m sorry, love, but your contractions are too close together now. She’d need to be very still to administer the epidural and she can’t stay still now.’ She was probably right, given that I’d seen less writhing in mosh pits. ‘It won’t be long, don’t worry.’

‘No epidural?’ Clare asked.

‘No, honey, but don’t worry, the midwife says it won’t be much longer… How long, exactly?’ I asked her. ‘Ten minutes? Twenty? It’s just that it might be easier if she knows.’

‘She hasn’t ordered takeaway, love, she’s having a baby. All right, Clare, are you ready? In just a minute I’ll want you to push. Wait till I tell you, okay? When the next contraction starts. B., you can help by holding her hand. Do you want to come down here?’ She offered to The Shag.

‘Don’t you dare!’ Clare bellowed.

‘No, no, I’ll help up this end,’ he said. ‘Clare, sweetheart, whatever you need, I’ll do.’ He swallowed. ‘If you need to grab me again, it’s okay.’

What a man he was, putting his nuts in the line of duty. What must have been going through his mind? He was about to become a father. He was minutes, hopefully, away from meeting his child. He looked determined, maybe a bit wild-eyed, but then we had been there nearly ten hours. Ten hours, poor Clare. Plus however many hours she was at home in pain. I’d never seen her so tired, and yet the contractions kept coming.

What… there was a
smell
. I looked over at Faith and Kat, recognition dawning.

Suddenly Clare blurted, ‘Oh fuck, I’ve shit myself!’

The giggles came. Faith guffawed, triggering Kat to snort.

‘Oh my God, I had a curry!’ Clare wailed.

That’s all it took. We dissolved into helpless laughter.

She was laughing and pushing and crying and pushing. ‘That’s it,’ said the midwife, as if being shat upon was all in a day’s work. ‘One more big push, you’re nearly there now.’

Clare strained, her chin jutting forward, holding on to The Shag for dear life, grunting with effort, and the midwife finally said, ‘There you go. Welcome to the world, little one.’ She gently laid the squirmy blancmange straight on to Clare’s chest.

‘What is it?’ Clare and The Shag said together.

‘It’s a girl,’ said the midwife. ‘Meet your daughter.’

‘Our daughter,’ said Clare. ‘
It’s
a girl.’

‘I love you, Clare,’ The Shag said through his tears. ‘I love you both.’

‘I love you too, Harry.’ Clare smiled through tears of her own.

Chapter 28

‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Bee-eeeee, happy birthday to you!’ The enormous cake led the procession.

And what a cake. ‘Wow! Where did you get this?’ I asked the girls as they wrestled it on to the table. ‘It puts Colin the Caterpillar to shame.’ Even with his Smarties eyes and his white chocolate face he could never compete with a blue and yellow record player fashioned from icing, with
me
sitting on the edge. Icing B. had monstrous cleavage, I noted. Frederick must have been in charge of the cake.

‘Shhh! Don’t hurt Colin’s feelings,’ Faith said, proffering the chocolate caterpillar from behind her back.

‘Ah, Colin, it wouldn’t be a birthday without you. Thank you, everyone!’

So it had finally come. My penultimate birthday. Fred was delighted to help me host it at his flat, but crestfallen when I wouldn’t let him use the waiters who did his friend’s party. Not that Cheeky Waiters didn’t sound like fun, but maybe not everyone wanted their martini with a twist of penis.

I awoke that morning with mixed feelings. Excited for the party, yes, but terribly nostalgic too. I thought about friends mostly, and my family, back to childhood when my parents were the centre of my universe, and to the first time I saw Mum on TV. I remembered how much I laughed with my brothers, and regretted not seeing them more since moving to London. The connection was still there, of course, but new memories were built sporadically rather than daily. I thought about Mattias. It had been a relationship full of mostly happy memories, good times and again, laughter. It hadn’t ended well, but I didn’t regret our time together. I remembered the countless girls’ nights out where I offered little useful advice but lots of useful wine. Yes, it had been a day for looking back.

‘B., will you introduce me to Marjorie?’ Faith asked. ‘I’ve heard so much about her that I feel I already know her. And is that yummy man with her The Grandson?’

‘Yesss. Now Faith, please don’t get any ideas. We’re just friends.’

‘Ideas, me?’ She grinned wickedly. ‘Hello!’ She sparkled when I introduced her to my wrinkled friend. Marjorie hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived, reminding me how sociable she was. This was a woman who lived her life. Maybe that was the trick to happiness after all. Not knowing what you were doing or where you were going but embracing whatever came along and making the most of it. If I ended up half as remarkable as she was at her age, I’d consider myself a success. But maybe I was being too harsh on myself. I may not have known what I was doing professionally, or romantically, but did any of us, really? I was convinced that most of the people we judged as successes looked at themselves in the mirror in the mornings and thought, ‘Huh, didn’t expect to get
here
!’ Maybe we were all frauds, a bit, giving the illusion of competence while we frantically tried to figure out what it all meant and where we should be going. Maybe I wasn’t missing the blueprint for this life after all. Maybe there really wasn’t one, and we were all flying by the seats of our pants.

‘Thanks for coming.’ I smiled at The Grandson.

‘We wouldn’t miss it,’ he said. ‘It’s not every day a woman turns twenty-nine. Granddad was sorry to miss it but he thought it might be a bit much for him. There’s no stopping Marjorie, though. She’s so been looking forward to tonight. As have I. You look beautiful, every inch the rising star.’

‘Thanks.’ I blushed, contemplating my tuxedo. ‘I thought about having multiple wardrobe changes tonight, until I realised just how diva-esque that would be. It’s just a little music contract, after all, so I should save some ridiculous behaviour for when I go platinum. The hat is enough for tonight.’ I tipped my trilby. If you couldn’t look like a prat at your own birthday party, then when could you?

‘It’s a nice touch. So how does it feel to have all of your friends here to celebrate?’

It felt great. And they were all there, every last one of them. I even invited Foul Fiona and all the other consultants, some of whom Kat hadn’t seen in years.

I knew Gemma would make a beeline for Rebecca and the band as soon as I pointed them out. ‘It feels like an episode of
This Is Your Life
,’ I said to The Grandson. ‘All I need now is for my fourth grade teacher to tell everyone she never thought I’d get this far. Oh, excuse me a minute.’

Frederick was doing his best impression of a softball coach waving the batsman home.

‘It looks like there might be a bar emergency.’

‘B.! Guess who just buzzed! Only Mattias, he’s on his way up!’

‘Oh good, I’ll get the door.’

‘How can you be so calm, did you know about this?!’

‘Of course I did, Fred, I invited him. And he’s bringing his girlfriend,’ I sang over my shoulder as I headed to the door. My announcement sent Fred into another wave of hysteria.

Truth be told, my tummy was jittery. It was, after all, the first time I’d seen him since I walked out. A few months ago I was sure I would never talk to him again but, as with most bad experiences, time wore the sharp edges off, and I didn’t want bad blood between us. Not after a decade together. ‘Hi!’ I leaned in to accept his cheek kiss. ‘I’m glad you could come.’ I smiled at the young woman standing just behind him. ‘Come in, please.’

‘Happy birthday, B.!’ Shouted James from behind the woman, and from behind a bouquet of lovely lilies.

‘James, hello, come in, come in. Tsch, I said no gifts! But thank you, they’re beautiful. Kat’s just–’ Shit. Old habits were hard to break. ‘Sorry, come in.’

‘It’s okay, B., Kat and Rupert are here, I know. You told me they would be, remember?’

‘Right, sorry, come in.’

I’d wrestled with the question of inviting James. He’d been part of my life nearly as long as Kat had. She said she’d be okay with him here, and I knew she was telling the truth. She always did.

‘B., I’d like you to meet Caitlin,’ Mattias formally announced once we got inside. ‘Cait, this is B.’

She smiled genuinely, reaching for my hand and kissing my cheek at the same time. ‘Happy Birthday, B. It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard such nice things about you!’

‘Thanks, you too. I’m very impressed that you’re a yoga instructor. I don’t think I could ever be dedicated enough to actually earn a living from it.’

‘Oh, I don’t worry about keeping fit. It doesn’t stop me from eating like a pig,’ she said.

‘I like her!’ I smiled at Mattias.

‘Thanks. So do I,’ he said. He looked good. He looked content. Was he in love? Would it show on the face, a spot of in-love, like a spot of syphilis? Did it matter if he was? To me, I mean. I moved on and so did he. So it didn’t matter.

Except it did. All right, I had to admit it. I wasn’t willing to be quite that magnanimous. Call me a selfish cow. I was the one who realised we weren’t right for each other, the one who plucked up the courage to have that conversation, the one to leave to start a new life and eventually find what I was looking for. He wasn’t even looking. He shouldn’t have found it first. It should have been me, not him. There, I said it. Moo.

‘How are you doing?’ James asked as I cut myself another huge slice of cake. ‘This is quite a birthday, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, a lot’s happened since the last one, eh? For all of us. Are you okay?’ He looked tired. ‘I’m guessing it’s a relief to have the court thing over.’

‘I’m all right. Are we talking about Kat and Rupert, or in general? In general, work’s been hectic, but it keeps my mind off everything else. I think the judge made the right decision.’

‘That’s what Kat says too.’ The judge awarded joint custody. They were both so relieved not to lose custody that they’d started being reasonable people again, at least for the moment.

‘We could have saved a lot of aggravation, and lawyer’s fees, if we’d seen that sooner. It’s best for the boys. They’re great, adjusting well to a two-household family. I envy them, to be honest. They’ve accepted that Kat and I are no longer… that we’re divorcing.’