Secrets (13 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

‘So what the heck was that all about?’ Garth demanded. He and Emma were in the car, headlights lighting up the swish driveway that bore them away from the golf club. Emma was bawling her eyes out. She was getting to the stage of great chuggy sobs. Garth felt his heartstrings tug, but was determined to ignore them. For all he knew Emma’s tears might be a ploy to get her off the hook. His jaw was set as he stared through the windscreen. A minute later and the golf club’s driveway had joined up with the main road. ‘Well?’ Garth prompted. ‘Have you suddenly lost your tongue?’ That would be a first! The only time Emma wasn’t whinging about something was when she was asleep.

‘I just…
huh huh huh
…can’t stand…
huh huh huh
…your brother.’

‘Yes, that’s as plain as the nose on your face. And I think it’s fair to say the feeling is mutual. But why pick a fight with him and his girlfriend? He and Poppy weren’t troubling you.’

‘Because it’s just puke-making watching him mess up yet another woman.’

‘That’s not grounds for you to stick your oar in. Especially at my parents’ wedding anniversary. Thanks to you, I’m missing out on celebrating my folks’ special night. In fact,’ Garth asserted, ‘I’m dropping you home and then I’m going back. I don’t see why your outrageous behaviour should spoil a beautiful event.’

‘Oh thanks…
huh huh huh
…so it’s all my fault?’

‘Yes,’ Garth snapped.

‘I’m…
huh huh huh
…sorry.’ Emma sniffed, sounding anything but. ‘I hate your brother so much.’

‘Oh for goodness sake, stop banging on about it.’

For the remainder of the drive home the only noise was the flick of the car’s windscreen wipers swishing away a sudden shower. Garth inwardly sighed. Emma had now been in his life for just over a year. Mostly they were wrapped up in their own activities, so the relationship wasn’t unduly fraught. Garth was nearly always immersed in his writing, and Emma was happy to be home-maker. She’d just finished her ‘project’ – transforming the main guest room into a beautiful nursery for the baby. Garth had been surprised at Emma’s creative flair. She’d even painted a detailed fairy-tale mural on one wall, complete with fluttering butterflies and big fat bumblebees. Most days she grumbled about anything and everything, but Garth managed to zone her voice out. The only time that tactic failed to work was if Adrian stepped over the threshold. When that happened, Emma turned into a fishwife. But these days his brother mostly stayed away. Garth missed Adrian’s off-the-cuff visits and companionship. Who else was there to talk to about the football results or Tottenham Hotspur’s latest signing? Certainly not Emma. She detested football and always made a point of turning the television off if Garth took time out to watch a match.

‘Sorry, Garth, but watching a bunch of men getting worked up over a leather ball is not my idea of fun.’

Garth had pondered what
was
Emma’s idea of fun. She wasn’t very sociable, and shied away from the functions Garth was invited to. She didn’t even mix well with smaller gatherings, like a simple Sunday lunch with his parents. Her conversation with them was stilted. Even after all this time she called them Mr and Mrs Davis instead of John and Marjory. Garth felt a wave of frustration. Mostly he managed to suppress the emotion. But sometimes, like now, it flared up. He wished his life hadn’t been taken over by a woman who wasn’t his choice of partner. But it was no good dwelling on the past. It was his mistake. He’d just have to spend the rest of his life paying for it. There was no walking away when a baby was involved.

He swung a left into his property, briefly pausing for the electric gates to open. Moments later the car was at a standstill on the driveway.

‘We’re home.’

‘I can see that,’ Emma snapped.

Ah. Back to being the shrew again. He waited for her to pick up her handbag from the floor well, and rootle inside for the house key. Instead she remained immobile, just sitting there in the darkness. Garth presumed she was revving up for a row. Weariness washed over him. A change of tactics was required. ‘Well come on, love,’ he coaxed. ‘I need to get back to my folks.’ He was met with a wall of silence. ‘Emma, please be reasonable. It’s not every day my parents celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Now be an angel and let me get back to them. I won’t stay long. Just an hour or so, okay?’ More silence. He put on the interior light to look at Emma properly. And when he did, he felt his insides contract. Her face was screwed up in pain.

‘Get me to hospital,’ she gasped. ‘The baby’s coming.’

Chapter Thirty-Four

Garth paced up and down the hospital corridor. The midwife had sent him out of the delivery room while Emma tried to have a bowel movement. Half an hour previously she’d been given pethidine so wasn’t allowed off the bed to use a conventional toilet. Instead two midwives had sat her on a bedpan and told her to push. He’d left his partner straining and puce in the face. Garth hadn’t been to any ante-natal classes with Emma. He only had a fuzzy idea about how long a baby took to make its exit from womb to world. He decided to ring Adrian and let him know what was happening.

Pulling his mobile phone from his jacket pocket, Garth attempted to call his brother. When the call failed, he realised there was no signal inside the hospital. Frustrated, he followed the exit signs along the corridor, took the lift from maternity wing to ground floor, and hastened outside. A motley group of male smokers were gathered in the cold night air. Garth didn’t know whether they were visitors or expectant fathers like him. Briefly acknowledging the group, he made a second call to Adrian. This time it connected. Loud music filtered into Garth’s ear.

‘Bro?’

‘Yes, mate. Hang on. Let me go somewhere quieter.’ There was the sound of a door being hauled open. Instantly the noise receded. ‘How’s things? Is the Rottweiler tucked up in bed?’

‘You could say that.’

‘I don’t know why you bothered bringing her to Mum and Dad’s “do”. Emma has to be the most unsociable female I’ve ever met. Are you coming back?’

‘I wanted to but–’

‘Don’t tell me. She’s got you on a lead and won’t let you out of her sight. Mate, seriously, it’s a poor show on your part. It’s about time you manned up in this relationship and started wearing the trousers.’

Garth cringed. He hated his brother thinking he was so under the thumb. ‘I
was
coming back, but something’s cropped up.’

Adrian gave a dirty laugh. ‘Getting your rocks off, eh! Rather you than me, mate. Bonking Emma must be like straddling a baby elephant. Unfortunately I won’t be getting my oats tonight. Poppy has dumped me following your other half’s revelations about Jennifer, Cindy and Amanda.’

‘Bro, will you just listen up for a moment? Emma is indeed in bed – a hospital bed. She’s in labour. The baby’s on its way.’

There was a moment’s silence while Adrian digested this. ‘Right.’

‘Can you let Mum and Dad know?’

‘Of course.’

‘Tell them I’m really sorry not to be with them, but the best Golden Anniversary present is currently on its way – their first grandchild.’

‘Sure.’

‘Thanks, bro. Or should I say
Uncle
!’ Garth grinned into the handset. ‘Catch you later.’

‘Yeah. Oh, and Garth?’

‘Yes?’

‘Tell Emma…tell Emma I said good luck.’

‘Will do. Catch you later.’

Garth disconnected the call. For a moment he remained standing outside, gazing at the skyline. A jumble of rooftops, trees and the odd electricity pylon were silhouetted against a moonlit sky. The smell of somebody’s cigarette smoke mingled with the night air. He breathed it in, perversely enjoying the passive smoke.

‘First time?’ said a voice.

Garth turned to see a tired looking man in his mid-forties puffing away. He smiled and nodded. ‘Yes. I feel quite useless. And you?’

‘My sixth.’ The man shrugged helplessly, as if he’d had nothing to do with it. ‘But definitely the last. I’m having the snip after this. I love my kids but they’re costing me a fortune. Enjoy your nipper when it arrives. They change your life for ever.’

Garth nodded. His life had changed for ever the moment he’d permitted a dance with Emma to become something else. What Garth didn’t know, was that in six months’ time he would look back on this moment and acknowledge his life hadn’t just changed…it had been turned upside down.

Chapter Thirty-Five

‘Where’ve you been?’ Emma screeched.

Garth shut the door of the delivery suite and regarded his partner. Emma looked like she was in some sort of yoga position. She was kneeling forward on the bed, propped up on her elbows, head down, and bare bottom up. The hospital gown was rucked up around her midriff. A midwife was strapping a monitor to Emma’s bump.

‘I made a phone call while you were…indisposed,’ said Garth.

‘Well I’m not,’ Emma pulled a face, ‘
indisposed
any more. You’ve been gone ages. Who were you ringing?’

‘Adrian.’

Emma rolled her eyes by way of response. ‘Of all the people in the world to call right now, you telephone that prat.’

‘I wanted him to relay to my parents that I wouldn’t be returning to their anniversary gig.’

‘And did you bother to call my parents?’

‘Ah.’

‘I thought not. You’re absolutely useless, do you know that?’

‘I’ll go and phone them right away.’ Garth made to open the delivery suite’s door again.

‘Come back here!’ Emma shrieked. ‘I’m having a chuffing awful time, so you can flaming bear witness to it, especially as the Mighty Davis got me into this state.’

‘Sure.’ Garth released the door handle and moved towards the bed.

The midwife caught Garth’s eye. The badge on her uniform told anybody who cared to look that she was called Helen. ‘Take no notice,’ she murmured sympathetically. ‘Most women in labour say the most irrational things.’

‘I heard that, you bitch.’ Emma’s head swivelled one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees. She gave the midwife a filthy look.

‘Emma, please!’ Garth implored. ‘There’s no need to be rude.’

‘Oh yeah? Fancy her do you?’ Emma demanded. ‘Like women in uniform, eh?’ Any more insults were cut off by another contraction. She screwed up her face in agony. ‘
Arghhh
! It hurts.
Do
something you prat.’

Garth rushed over to the bed and grabbed one of Emma’s elbows. She promptly nose-dived into the mattress.

‘Not
you
, you moron.
Her
! I’m talking to the
other
prat.’

Garth thought he was going to die of embarrassment. He knew Emma’s tongue could be sharp on occasion, but this carry-on was beyond the pale.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he apologised to Helen.

‘I’ve been called far worse. Thankfully the sight of a darling new-born makes up for all the verbal abuse given by expectant mothers. It’s the babies that give me job satisfaction.’

‘Stop doing a number on my partner,’ Emma snarled. ‘Sort me out some pain relief.’ She shifted her position to one of squatting on the bed.

‘You have pain relief,’ Helen said mildly. ‘Gas and air. Just take a big breath when the next contraction comes along.’

‘I don’t mean this chuffing rubbish. I want proper pain relief. An epidural.’

‘It’s far too late for that,’ said Helen.

‘You COW!’ screeched Emma. ‘You KNEW I wanted an epidural from the moment I walked in here. What are you? Some sort of sadist who gets her rocks off seeing a woman in pain? You just wait. The moment this baby is born, I’m going to punch your lights out.’

‘Emma, please–’

‘Oh shut up, you oversized piece of…
ARGHHHHH
!’

Garth found his hand being snatched up and crushed by Emma’s as another contraction took hold.

For the next couple of hours the air in delivery suite number two turned blue.

‘Baby’s head is crowning,’ said Helen, peering under Emma’s gown. ‘You’re doing very well, Emma. Would you like to look, Mr Davis?’

‘Get me a mirror,’ Emma gasped. ‘I want to look first. After all, it’s
my
chuffing fanny.’

‘Here,’ said Helen and passed Emma the sort of mirror a hairdresser would use.

‘Short back and sides, Madame?’ Garth joked feebly. Emma gave him a murderous look.

‘I need you to change position now,’ Helen said.

‘I don’t want to,’ Emma wailed.

‘You’re going to have to. Come on. You’re now within shouting distance of the finishing line,’ Helen encouraged.

‘Don’t be so flaming patronising, you hateful–’ but whatever Emma was about to say next was lost in an agonising scream. ‘I can’t deal with this,’ she eventually whimpered. ‘I can’t do it. I want a caesarean.’

‘You’re nearly there!’ Garth was at the other end of the bed now so he could see what was happening. The baby’s entire head was emerging. Emma was caught up in the grip of another contraction. Her face was bright red, hair stuck to head. Garth couldn’t stop watching the miracle unfolding between Emma’s legs. Helen was leaning in now, wiping mucus from the baby’s face. Emma made a sound like a bellowing calf.

‘Two good pushes, Emma, and your baby will be born.’

Garth could feel himself choking up. ‘This is amazing.’

‘No it’s not,’ Emma shouted. ‘My chuffing bum’s on fire.’

‘Push, Emma, push,’ Helen and Garth chorused.

And suddenly the baby shot out into Helen’s outstretched hands.

‘It’s a BOY!’ Garth shouted.

‘No, Mr Davis,’ said Helen smiling. ‘That’s the umbilical cord. Congratulations to you both. You have a beautiful baby girl.’

Garth didn’t care whether the baby was a boy, a girl, or an alien. He felt flattened by love.

‘I’m a daddy,’ he beamed at Emma.

She scowled at him, exhausted. ‘Huh. Time will tell.’

Garth moved up the bed to Emma and kissed her on the forehead. Right now he could forgive her all the bad language and behaviour. She’d given him a daughter.
Their
daughter. He took her hand in both of his, and put it to his heart. His eyes were shining with happiness. ‘I promise you, I’m going to be the best daddy in the world,’ he assured.

This moment, with Emma’s words and his response, became a snapshot in Garth’s mind. There would come a time when he would pull the picture from his memory, blow off the dust and regard this happy scene with fresh eyes. But for now, he was an ecstatic new parent. Albeit a blissfully ignorant one.