Mine To Lose (9 page)

It was raining, but just a mild drizzle this time. I ran up to the doorstep, listening to the rubbery patter of light droplets on the hood of my yellow raincoat and sucked up the crisp muddy air through my nostrils. I was happy to be at the old Victorian house again, but I was alone – all alone? I tried opening the front door, but it was locked.

I took off again, running all the way around the detached house, looking for anyone who could put me at ease. My heart raced as the loneliness took me, but I refused to relent until I found someone. Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill onto my cheeks as I tried one window after another. Like the front door, they were all locked tight, curtains drawn to shut out the world. As my tears breached my eyes lids, the rain now came down hard, shattering the peaceful setting, and I ran to an old metal shed in the garden for shelter.

Somewhere through the showers, I could have sworn that I could hear a baby crying. I cocked my head and strained to listen. Again, the wailing persisted through the clatter on the corrugated iron roof above me. Thinking that it came from a neighbour’s house, I poked my head through the opening and looked around, but to my horror all the other houses had vanished! Not only was I alone at the house, but now I was entirely alone in the town. My heart sank. The more I cried, the louder came the baby’s wailing until it came from right behind me.

Startled, I turned to see.

Ahead, on the decking, I saw my grandfather sitting on a rocking chair, holding what looked like two babies in each arm. He looked up at me with that warm contentment I used to know when he told me war stories, yet he said nothing now. The babies calmed, and I watched Gramps get up and walk towards me holding them out to me. He smiled and nodded for me to take them.

I reached out. My heart soared with happiness as my fingers barely touched the woollen shawl. All of a sudden, Gramps started moving backwards. Pain was etched on his craggy features. I opened my mouth to tell him to come back, to give me back my babies. But my words were nothing but slurred hums, as obscured as the grey that reached from the yard across the expanse of nothingness. Gramps paid no attention to me and turned away momentarily. When he turned back to face me, he wasn’t Gramps anymore, but Jordan.

Jordan stood there, just staring at me as if I’d done something terrible. His eyes were bloodshot as if he had been crying, but his expression wasn’t one of sorrow. I watched as his brow furrowed, and he lifted the babies into the rain.

‘No!’ I screamed mutely. Jordan smiled faintly and dropped the shrieking babies without his eyes straying from mine for even a flinch. As I tried to catch the babies, I lunged forward over the railing. Below there was no ground but a chasm of darkness that fell immeasurably deep into the earth. I jumped, wanting to save my babies, and I was soon hurtling into the black mouth.

‘Babykins?’ Jordan cried out. ‘Are you alright? You sound like you’re having a nightmare.’

‘How ironic,’
I thought just as I came back to the waking world after hearing Jordan’s voice.

‘I’m fine. Just a bad dream. What?’ I frowned and pouted, making myself as cute as I could. It worked. Jordan fluffed up my hair and smiled.

‘You’re so sexy,’ he said. ‘Look, we’re here!’

I unfolded from my slouched position to sit up straight and see where ‘here’ was. Jordan’s face, although sweet and friendly, gave me chills now after what he had just done in my dream. And the worst thing was that I couldn’t even tell him.

We were in Folkestone. Heading towards the sign to the Eurotunnel.

‘Oh, my God! Have I died and gone to heaven? France.’ I marvelled as I realised where we were going.

Jordan laughed dryly. ‘Don’t say things like that. Please.’ He was very pedantic about death jokes. I never knew why and was never curious enough to ask, so I left it at that. ‘But you’re right. We’re going to Paris for the weekend. Told you you’d like the surprise.’

In front of us, cars started stopping, causing a long tailback as cars were let off the train.

‘Seriously, you’re the best husband a woman could have,’ I said, leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. ‘Oh, crap. I didn’t pack,’ I said, suddenly realising I was going to be in the city with only the clothes I had on my back.

‘I thought of everything. Your case is in the back. My mum told me what you’d need.’

I inwardly cringed at the thought of Martha planning anything for me. Still, I wasn’t about to sour the mood.

‘That was very kind of her.’

‘That’s what I told her. Now sit back and relax. In a few hours, we’ll be dining in the most romantic city in the world.’

My stomach tingled from the excitement of being in the UK one minute and at the drop of a hat being whisked off to Paris. This was the very reason Jordan and I originally decided not to have children, but instead, share our love for travel and adventure. A baby was still in my plans, of course, but for now, I was going to savour our free sense of exploration. I even thought about dropping little baby hints over the next couple of days.

‘Is your phone still switched off?’ I asked out of curiosity.

‘Why?’ he asked, taking my hand in his.

‘Just wondering,’ I said. ‘I was just hoping we wouldn’t be interrupted, that’s all.’ With all my might, I managed to refrain from saying ‘by your mother.’

Jordan laughed. ‘No one’s going to disturb us babykins. This weekend, it’s just you and me!’

After checking into a stylish boutique hotel, I was surprised to find my suitcase was filled with all the things I would have brought myself if I’d have packed. Maybe Martha had uncovered a thought of kindness at the last minute. That thought was soon dismissed. At the bottom of the case, tucked in with my underwear, was my box of contraceptives.
Yes, she remembered to pack everything alright.
I couldn’t help wondering if Martha really was a witch and had somehow sensed my change of thoughts about having a baby.
Just put her out of your mind and enjoy yourself,
I reprimanded myself.

Our bedroom had a direct view of the Eiffel tower, and the first thing Jordan did was draw the curtains back and fling the windows open.

‘Now this is the life isn’t it?’ Jordan said, gesturing to the view as if he had built the city himself.

‘It most definitely is,’ I said, laying down on the bed and slowly removing my clothes. Jordan didn’t need to second guess my intentions. He was naked before I was. As he made love to me, I glanced out of the window. My life was perfect. Magical even. Why couldn’t this just be enough?

***

Later that evening, we arrived at Perrier’s, a Michelin star restaurant I had read about in Dining Out Magazine, only the week before. It was a place I had dreamed about visiting. Jordan took hold of my hand as we walked up the path towards the glass-fronted restaurant.

Great isn’t it? Jordan asked as we entered.

I nodded in agreement as I took in the stylish interior with its massive chandeliers that dangled from the high ceilings like glittering diamonds. The maître greeted us like old friends and led us to our table that overlooked the River Seine. I was sipping on a glass of champagne and reading my menu when I heard Jordan’s low level groan. Looking up, I followed his gaze to see what was causing his disdain. An attractive man and a young woman dressed elegantly in a pink channel suit sat down at a table few feet away holding a baby.

‘Great, this is all we need. A screaming baby,’ Jordan said under his breath.

I turned away from the couple quietly engaging their child with baby talk. ‘The baby looks content enough,’

‘Yeah, give it a few minutes, and it’ll be wailing its head off.’

‘Be fair Jordan. It must be a nice treat for them ...’

‘Yes for them! Not for people like me that are paying an arm and a leg to eat here in peace.’

‘They’re paying as well. And like I said, if you hadn’t seen them, you wouldn’t even know a baby was present.’

‘Well, I do now.’

The waiter appeared at our table. ‘Are you read to order, sir?’

‘No, I’m fucking not.’ Jordan’s face turned crimson, and he pushed back his chair and threw his napkin on the table. ‘I thought I was coming to a high-class restaurant. Not a fucking crèche.’

The waiter looked flabbergasted, and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Other diners stopped to stare at the commotion.

Before I could protest, Jordan pulled me to my feet and guided me out of the restaurant. Once outside I rounded on him. I was furious. ‘What the hell was that about. Do you know how embarrassing that was?’

‘Embarrassing? Is all you care about what other people think? Don’t you think you should be more worried about my evening being spoilt?’

‘Spoilt? But how? Nobody was troubling you.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. Come on, we’ll get room service at the hotel. At least we won’t be disturbed by any little parasites there.’

‘Parasites! Have you heard yourself? You’re speaking like a madman.’

‘Are you coming?’ he said, turning away from me and starting down the tree lined street. As I struggled to keep up with him, I saw my dreams of motherhood fading further away. If he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with a stranger’s baby, what chance was there of him tolerating one of our own?

***

Jordan had barely spoken a word to me when we arrived back at our hotel. We ordered room service and ate in silence. The fury inside me had slowly dissipated, and if it meant swallowing my pride just to get through the next couple of days, that’s what I would have to do. It was Paris, after all.

I suggested we use the hotel spa and have a sauna and swim. Reluctantly, he agreed. I think it was more down to not wanting to be alone with me in our hotel room than extending an olive branch.

Two hours later, and we were back in our room, and I had the old Jordan back.

‘I can’t wait to explore this city tomorrow,’ he said taking off his shirt as he stood looking out the window. ‘We can go to the Louvre first and then ...’

‘That’s what I love about you.’

‘What?’ he said grinning as he turned to face me.

‘Your enthusiasm for life.’

‘As opposed to being a miserable old bastard who wants to do nothing but sit on the sofa scoffing my face like a pig at a trough. No thanks. Seen too many fathers waste their lives away doing that.’

‘And is that what you think parenting is? Wasting life?’ I don’t even know why I asked him that question, seeing as I hadn’t thought about the incident in the restaurant again.

Just for a second, his eyes glimmered with uncertainty as if he knew what I was building up to.

He fired the question back at me. ‘Why, don’t you?’

In my mind’s eye, I saw Pam encouraging me from the sidelines to tell him the truth. ‘I … I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know? What? You think it’s right to become a slave to parenthood? Sleepless nights, no money, no freedom? To bring an innocent soul into the world to suffer because two people don’t know what to do with their lives?’

‘But what about unconditional love, Jordan? Surely that stands for something?’

He looked at me as if I had two heads. ‘You are kidding, right? Do you know how many people actually hate their parents? Who find them a burden, especially when they become older. What’s unconditional about that?’

‘You don’t hate your mum, do you?’ I retorted. ‘And you don’t find her a burden?’
But I bloody do!

His eyes rolled back, and his alluring lips curled into a smile. I could see that he was searching for the right response, and he cleared his throat before he spoke. ‘No, I don’t, Katie, but she isn’t like most mothers.’

Finally, we could agree on something when it came to Martha.

‘No, you’re right she isn’t,’ I said light-heartedly.

‘Anyway, why are we wasting our time talking about this. Children don’t have a part of our life. Let the people with slave mentalities keep breeding them into a system that will just chew them up and spit them out when they’re no longer useful.’

He crossed the room and leaned forward to kiss me. He hesitated for a moment, searching my eyes with his. ‘You feel the same, right Katie?’

I was at a loss what to say. If I disagreed with him, I was certain we’d be back in Oxford in the blink of an eye. Then what? I’d be walking around on eggshells for God knows how long. So for the sake of my sanity, I said, ‘Of course I do, Jordan.’

‘Good.’ His eyes unfroze, and that emotional spell broke visibly, to my relief. For the rest of the evening, we drank wine in front of the window while we made plans for the following day. Bar the child issue, it was great to just be alone with him.

It was the first time in a long few months that both Jordan and I were truly together, away from home. No work calls or mothers-in-law interfered for once, and thankfully no more visits to the hospitals. Jordan was more than cheerful the next day, and I put all thoughts of babies on hold in the back of my heart while I enjoyed our rekindled passion and joviality.

That was important. That trust and comfort with one another were pivotal for what was to come out in the open eventually.