The Family Trap Page 21

  Stella Hill got herself knocked up and messed up her life big time.

  Stella, you’re doing it again.

  I slip away before Paul notices the heavily pregnant woman spying on him from the street. Trudge back to my car and head for home.

  When I arrive, Lipsy and Robert are running around like lunatics.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I say for the hundredth time, ‘you don’t have to move out straight away, you know.’

  If you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, I don’t add, because at eight months pregnant I’ll be damned if I am.

  ‘No, Mum, it’s all under control,’ Lipsy reassures me, before turning away and shouting, ‘Robert, you moron, you’ve packed all Phee’s nappies already.’

  ‘Phee?’ I look at her, eyebrows raised. She shrugs.

  ‘I like Phee. There’s nothing wrong with it.’

  ‘Well, I never said there was,’ I start, but she’s gone already, racing up the stairs with Phoenix in her arms. Over her shoulder he smiles down at me, and I give a little wave. My grandson. Soon to be the number one playmate of my new son or daughter. Funny, there was a time when I couldn’t get my head around that. Now it doesn’t seem so very strange or complicated. Just different. And quite useful, in a way.

  A pain pulls at my abdomen and I bend over with an oomph. Practice contractions, the midwife calls them. I had an appointment yesterday, where she measured my bump, yet again – and looked surprised, yet again – and told me what to expect for the coming weeks.

  ‘Are you all ready for the birth?’ she asked. ‘Bag packed, birth partner lined up, breathing exercises under way?’

  I nodded and reassured her that I was, definitely. Absolutely.

  Bag? I’ll throw a few things in my holdall when the day arrives: clean knickers, a bottle of water, a blanket for the baby and a big bar of chocolate for me. Breathing? I’ve been doing that for thirty-eight years. I think I’ve got it figured out.

  Birth partner?

  There’s only one person I want as my birth partner, and I’m not holding my breath. No pun intended. But if it comes to it – and it sure looks like it will come to it – Lipsy will step into the breach. She’s had recent experience, after all.

  Bump kicks again, and I actually see the fabric of my top move. I love it when that happens. Then I’m doubled over in pain. It’s like the worst period pain you’ve ever had, times a million. And these are only practice contractions? I’m in for a bumpy ride.

  Chapter 28

  ‘The red or the black? What do you think?’

  I look across to where Edie is holding out two dresses. The red is a spunky number I’ve never seen before; the black is demure and screams classy. Both are lovely, but her face above the coat hangers is pinched with nerves.

  ‘Which do you feel most comfortable in?’ I ask. She pulls a face, then holds them up to her body one by one and looks at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  ‘The black one. I think. But the red is just so … so …’

  ‘Outrageous?’ I offer.

  ‘Do you think I could carry it off? Be honest, Stella. I don’t want to look like mutton dressed as lamb.’

  The expression has me doubled over with laughter. ‘Oh, Edie, you kill me. My nan used to say that all the time. But worse than that was “mutton dressed as mutton”.’

  She smiles and slips the red dress off the hanger. ‘Oh, what the hell. It’s just a dinner with friends, right? And you deserve something a bit special, Stella, after everything you’ve done for me.’

  I look away, embarrassed. I just hope Edie’s not going to be too mad at me when she finds out what I’ve done. Before I came up here to help her get dressed I went outside to check how Sally was getting on. Everything was perfect. It’s a beautiful evening, with the sun still shining on the secluded spot I’ve chosen under the arbour. There’s a table laid with silver cutlery, and Sally’s offered to bring out the food herself. We lit candles and hung some pink heart bunting from the trees to the arbour. No one in the main house can see without walking right down to the bottom of the gardens, and no one’s going to do that because they’ll all be having their dinner too.

  It looks so lovely, so special and glamorous, I wish I really was having dinner with them.

  But the table is set for two.

  I blow-dry Edie’s fine hair into a fuller version of her usual style, and then I help zip her into her dress.

  ‘You look a million dollars,’ I tell her, and I mean it.

  We slip out of a side door to avoid the main dinner crowd. As we round the hedges I can see Franklin waiting. Earlier, I had a quiet word with him. I kind of told him the lie of the land. Well, come on – Edie said herself she thought it was OK to get involved if you can see two people are made for each other, but they’re just a bit useless at sorting themselves out. And if there are two people in this world who are made for each other, it’s Edie and Franklin.

  ‘Off you go, then,’ I say to Edie now, giving her a gentle push in the direction of the table.

  She looks startled. ‘Aren’t you coming with me?’

  I shake my head. ‘I wish I could, Edie. But it’s my leaving do tonight, isn’t it? And I’ve invited my mum and dad, and Lipsy, and I really need to go and make sure everything’s going to plan.’

  If looks could kill I’d be dead on the spot. ‘Stella Hill, you planned this whole thing. You are incorrigible.’

  ‘Yup,’ I tell her, nodding. ‘I sure am. Now you have a nice time with Franklin. Go on,’ I say when she hesitates, ‘or I’ll tell Maude he’s out here all on his own.’

  That gives her the incentive she needs. I watch as she picks her way along the path, and stay just long enough to see Franklin’s face light up when he sees her. He pulls out her chair, leans down, and gives her the gentlest of kisses on the back of her neck.

  I slip away, satisfied. At least there’s one happy couple in the world, about to make a go of it after years of messing about. I guess I’ll just have to be content with that.

  *

  My leaving party is a sober affair, organised by the residents with a little help from Jean, Martha and Sally. My family add a festive element, and Lipsy is our token young person – it’s so sweet how the residents crowd around her, eager for a piece of her youthfulness. Everyone’s dressed in their finery; they love a party even more than youth. Violet is wearing a bright pink frilly dress that trails to the floor and keeps tripping her up.

  ‘Be careful you don’t break your neck,’ I tell her as she hands me a glass of Buck’s Fizz – which in my case is more orange juice than champers.

  ‘What?’ she hollers. ‘What did you say?’

  I smile and move on. Bump gives me a little press just below my ribcage and I stop and wait for him to settle down. Him? I’m convinced it’s a boy. I figure I’ve done my time with a girl child and this time around I deserve to have a go with one of the male variety.

  It’ll be compensation for having no actual man of my own.

  I haven’t heard from Paul since I dropped off the letter. Knowing I took it to him with my own fair hands means I can’t even blame it on the vagaries of the postal system. Mind you, it was only yesterday. Men take longer to react, don’t they? They lack that necessary sense of urgency to jump in their cars and race around to see the one they love, begging forgiveness and promising that all will be well if they can only have just one more chance …

  Unless of course they don’t love her all that much. Then it’s fine to hang around and take your time.

  Dinner’s been cleared away, and the residents are gathered in the lounge to say goodbye to me. Martha calls me over and clears her throat.

  ‘Stella,’ she says, ‘you left us once before, and we got you twenty pounds in gift tokens and a bottle of cava.’

  ‘And a bed jacket,’ Rosa pipes up. ‘I knitted the arms myself.’

  Martha nods. ‘Quite. So Stella will have to take that off the value of this present, OK? We can’t have peo
ple leaving and then coming back and then going off on maternity leave all the time. It just gets too expensive.’

  ‘You’re all heart, Martha,’ Bernie shouts from the back.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, taking a shiny red gift bag out of her hands. She winks at me, then slips away.

  ‘Speech,’ someone calls and I smile, embarrassed. I look out across the sea of faces, all so dear to me. It’s great that my mum, dad and Lipsy are here, but it’s the residents I’m focusing on now. With their funny ways and their stories of the war and their ingrowing toenails and hairs spouting from every orifice, I’ll miss them so much.

  I wasn’t this upset the first time around, but I guess during the last six months I’ve gotten to know them so much better. And the good thing is, I know I’ll be back.

  ‘Speech!’

  As I prepare for what I want to say, I see Edie and Franklin enter via the garden door. They are holding hands, and Edie’s face is brimming over with happiness. A lump forms in my throat, and for a moment I can’t speak.

  ‘Thank you all so much,’ I get out finally. ‘Martha’s quite right – you’ve all been very patient with my comings and goings, but this time I can say with absolute certainly, once this little one is old enough, I’ll be back!’

  ‘Like the Terminator,’ calls Violet. I smile at her and nod.

  ‘And, to that end, I’ve got one more surprise piece of news to share.’

  ‘She’s having twins!’ This is from Franklin, who looks like he’s lost a fiver and found a million dollars. He’s still holding Edie’s hand tightly. I hope he never lets it go.

  ‘Triplets,’ shouts my dad. I throw him a warning look.

  ‘Very funny. No, nothing like that. But it is about babies. And children.’ I look around the room and find Sally. She smiles and I keep my eyes fixed on her. ‘There are lots of female employees here at Twilight who find it hard to pay for good childcare, and their work is all the harder for it. I’m going to be in the same position next year, so I decided to do something about it.’

  Lipsy is looking at me with a new kind of respect. Of course, she’s all sorted now she’s got her grandma on tap – replacing me who she’s had on tap thus far – but it’s not that easy for everyone.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know that the board of directors have agreed to let me convert the reading room into a crèche.’

  I’m expecting cheers round about now, but all I’ve got is a bunch of confused faces.

  ‘A crèche,’ I explain, ‘that will be staffed by volunteers, some working around their shifts, looking after all the children of the staff here, and providing a great place for the children of visiting families too.’

  ‘I could help out in there,’ Rosa pipes up. ‘I was a teacher before I retired.’

  ‘That’s fantastic, Rosa, thank you.’

  Sally’s face is slowly breaking into a smile. I give a little bow and jump out of the limelight as quickly as I can. Well, they’ll all be chuffed to bits when they see it in action. But right now, I’ve got other things to think about. My stomach has started up with those bloody practice contractions again; they’re not too frequent, but they are getting progressively worse. I lean against the back of a wing chair and pause to catch my breath.

  Sally walks over, still grinning. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do. Get that application in pronto.’

  She hugs me and fairly skips back to the kitchen. I close my eyes and wait for the contraction to pass.

  ‘Some plan, Stella. What a brilliant idea.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  She lays a warm hand on my lower back. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I think so. It’s just these practice contractions again. Like I need to practise! I have already been through it once.’

  She smiles and shakes her head. ‘It might be different this time around. You and Billy had totally different births. Billy was really easy, just popped right out, but you, you were –’

  ‘A nightmare, I know. You may have told me once or twice already.’

  Something else Billy did better than me.

  ‘You know,’ she says, gazing off above my head, ‘I could come and help out sometimes. With the crèche, I mean. I could bring Phee with me. I’m CRB checked from my job at the school.’

  I was kind of hoping she’d say that. So, finally it’s all coming together. In the absence of my perfect future, at least I’ve managed to carve out one that is just about all right. And not just for me.

  ‘Stella.’ I sense her stiffening at my side and I look up in alarm. There’s a look on her face that’s somewhere between shock and joy.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  She shakes her head slowly, raises her arm and points. I follow her gaze.

  Standing at the back of the room, holding the biggest teddy I have ever seen in my life, is Paul.

  Chapter 29

  I can barely see him over the top of the teddy. Really, the thing is quite preposterous, and if he thinks he can win me round by buying the biggest, best, most cuddly …

  Just get yourself over there, you stupid woman.

  For once, I’m listening to the voice in my head.

  ‘Paul?’

  He puts down the monster teddy and takes my hand. There is the slightest tremor in his, and I tell myself not to build up my hopes. This could mean anything – forgiveness, friendship, the softening of his heart. It doesn’t necessarily mean what I want it to mean.

  ‘Looks like a great party,’ he says, looking over my shoulder. I’ve yet to take my eyes off his face.

  ‘Hm-mm,’ is all I manage.

  Paul looks at my hand in his, then looks up into my eyes.

  ‘Did they knit you another bed jacket?’

  ‘No. But there’s a bag of baby clothes over there that I think is coming my way pretty soon.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  My heart’s pounding. I let out a breath and it sounds like a whimper. Paul looks down at his feet.

  ‘What colour are they?’ he says.

  ‘What?’ I follow his gaze. His shoes are brown, polished to a high gloss.

  ‘The baby clothes. Are they pink or blue?’

  If my heart keeps this up much longer I’m going to collapse.

  ‘A mixture, I imagine,’ I tell him, moving half a step closer.

  ‘You don’t know yet?’ The hope in his voice is clear.

  At least I got something right.

  ‘Not a clue.’

  ‘Stella,’ he says, dropping my hand and taking hold of both my wrists, ‘I’ve been such an idiot. I’m so sorry and I love you so much. I want more than anything to make things right between us.’

  Wow. It does mean what I want it to mean.

  ‘This has been the worst year of my life, Stella, but there’s still time to turn it around. If you want to.’ He’s gazing at my bump reverently, admiringly. His hand twitches as if he longs to touch it.

  I can’t speak. My body is thrumming with emotion. I can feel it from my fingertips, through my wrists – still encased in Paul’s trembling hands – all the way down to my swollen ankles. I’m a whale, an enormous tank of a woman, but next to Paul, with him looking at me this way, I feel like a fragile teenager all over again. And my mind is going round in circles.

  My right hand escapes his and flies up to touch the locket at my throat.

  Something old.

  ‘Stella,’ Paul says, going down on one knee.

  Oh, my.

  He fishes around in his pocket and then pulls out – my ring.

  ‘Stella, will you marry me?’

  A round of applause breaks out behind me. Oh, right – now they’re clapping. Now I need them all just to disappear and leave me in peace, they’re suddenly more interested in me than the TV. Typical.

  ‘Stella?’

  Paul is looking up at me expectantly. He’s smiling, but it’s a smile of anxiety, and I realise what this has cost him, to come here and risk hum
iliation all over again.

  ‘Do you love me?’ he asks softly.

  ‘You know I do. But there are things we need to–’

  ‘Talk about. I know. Definitely.’ He nods his head furiously, nearly head-butting my belly. ‘I’ve written you a letter, too. It’s here somewhere.’ He starts to root around in his trouser pocket again but then gives up. ‘I think it’s better to say it in person. I do want to start a family with you, Stella. You’ll be a wonderful mother to my baby, and I’ll do my best to be a wonderful father. You’re not old, you’re not past it. I thought I was, I thought … But I was wrong. About so many things.’

  ‘Is this a sudden change of heart?’ I can’t help asking. I need to know how deeply this goes. My entire future happiness depends on it.

  I also wish he’d get up off the floor. It’s making my neck ache looking down at him, and my abdomen is starting to contract again.

  ‘When I spoke to your dad, he told me that pride nearly ripped your family apart.’

  ‘And that’s all it was? Pride?’

  ‘It stopped me admitting how much I wanted a family. That and fear. Fear that it wouldn’t happen for us. And I thought we had it all figured out, moving away, starting again. But I didn’t listen to you, Stella. I didn’t ask myself – or you – what we really wanted. We just went off on this … tangent. We never really talked about the important stuff.’

  He’s right there. Which is all well and good, but someone has to break the pattern. Someone has to give in and be willing to take a chance.

  And, in the words of my antenatal practitioner, in the end all it takes is one big push.

  Or a leap of faith.

  Trying to ignore the pain that is ripping at my belly, I bend down and whisper, ‘Would you like to meet your new baby?’

  He nods again, tears misting his eyes. I take his hand and place it gently on my bump.