And Baby Makes Two (8 page)

“You’re going to be put in care, that’s what you’re going to be.”

“Lots of girls our age have babies,” I informed her coldly. “It’s in all the papers. Plus, it’s a definite advantage to be young with your children. Hilary was forty when she had me, and look how that turned out.”

Shanee leaned forward. “Lana, for God’s sake. This isn’t like piercing your nose. This is really serious. Being a mother isn’t a joke.”

I sneered. “How would you know?”

“It just so happens that I would know.” She stood up, too. “I’ve got two little brothers and a little sister, haven’t I? I know exactly what it’s like.”

“They’re not yours,” I said. “It’s different.”

Nothing was stronger than the mother-child bond. Unless, of course, your mother happened to be like mine. But I wasn’t like Hilary. I would be a great mother. I could already feel the connection between my baby and me starting to grow.

I patted my tummy. “I already love my baby, Shanee. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Her mouth was opened as though she was putting on lipgloss. “I want you to know that I think you’re mad. Totally bonkers.”

“You’re the one who’s bonkers. This is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Shanee was shaking her head and waving her hands about. “I have to go home. I’m too traumatized to have this discussion now.”

She
was traumatized? How did she think I felt?

“What about me?” I snapped. “I’m the one who has to tell Les. You know what men are like. They think babies are a trap.”

Shanee picked up her things and gave me a “poor little cow” sort of look.

“Men aren’t the only ones,” said Shanee. “So does my mother.” She put her bag over her shoulder. “And so do I.”

*  *  *

I liked the idea of no one else knowing about the baby for a while. I felt like I had this brilliant secret – like I knew where the Ark of the Covenant really was or something like that – and it made me feel really happy and in charge.

So I bunked off school for the next couple of days. I didn’t feel like going even more than usual. I mean, what was the point? I wasn’t going to finish, was I? I didn’t even have to pretend any more. We’d see who was the poor cow. A year from now, when Shanee was studying herself into a coma, I was going to be pushing my baby up the high street in a blue and yellow pushchair with a basket at the back for the shopping and wondering what to make Les for supper.

Plus, now that I knew I was pregnant for certain, I reckoned I should take care of myself. Taking care of yourself during pregnancy is very important. Running around a hockey pitch and being yelled at by teachers
was not
taking care of myself. Besides, now that I knew I had a baby inside me, I
felt
really pregnant. I was tired and didn’t want to do very much. I had to pee a lot. I had sudden cravings for everything from chocolate to that special sauce they put on the burgers in Burger King. Sad songs made me feel like crying. I came over all weak whenever I saw an infant.

So, every morning I’d get up, get dressed, have my breakfast, and put on my coat. I’d pick up my school bag, make sure I had my keys, and give my mother a big wave goodbye. Then I’d go to McDonald’s or Burger King, till I was sure Hilary had left for work. And then I went back home.

I spent my days watching telly and thinking about babies. There was a lot to think about. Should I breast-feed? It was easier than bottles, since you didn’t have to wash anything, but it also meant that I couldn’t go anywhere without the baby for more than a couple of hours. What if Les wanted to take me away for a weekend or something? Then there was the problem of where it should sleep. Should it sleep with me and Les at the beginning, or should it have a room of its own? What colour would I paint its room? Pink and blue were out, they were tacky. Yellow was OK, but it had to be a restful shade. I wondered if Les knew how to put up shelves. We’d need shelves for its toys and stuff.

And I’d need something to carry it around in. I’d seen women carrying babies in backpacks but that was a bit primitive, if you asked me. What I really wanted was one of those big old-fashioned prams with lots of chrome, but I could see that that wouldn’t be practical. I mean, it’d be hard to get it on a bus. But I could get an ordinary pushchair for everyday and save the pram for Sunday walks in the park. And then there were clothes. Clothes were important. Should I shop at Mothercare or Baby Gap?

Shanee came round on her way home from school every afternoon with my homework. As if I was really going to do it. But no matter what I said, she refused to get real about my situation.

“You can’t stay indoors for ever,” she kept saying. “You have to tell them some time.”

“I will,” I said. “I’m going to. I just don’t see what the big rush is.”

She goggled her eyes. “You don’t? Hasn’t it occurred to you that the longer you wait, the less options you have?”

“But I don’t need any options. I told you. I want this baby. It’s all settled.” I patted my tummy. “I’m happy, Shanee. This really is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“If you’re so happy, then tell its grandmother and father,” begged Shanee. “You’re driving me mad.”

“I will,” I promised. “I’ll tell the old bat first.”

I had no doubt about how Hilary would react. Charley said she was very volatile, which meant she started screaming before you’d finished talking, and thought about it later. When I told
her
she was going to be a grandmother she’d go into meltdown. But that was all she’d do. She’d march around in one of her moods, slamming doors and banging things on tables for a while. She’d start screaming at every chance she got. She’d talk to my nan and my sisters on the phone for hours, and then blame me because the bill was so high. But in the end she’d shut up. I mean, what could she do? She was a cow, but she wasn’t going to throw me out on the street. Charley wouldn’t let her.

But I wasn’t
totally
sure about Les. That’s why I reckoned I’d save him for last. I mean, I knew he was the hard-working, responsible type. He had a job and a flat and everything, and he’d never missed one of his car loan repayments. Not one. Plus, he was well chuffed not to be a virgin any more. A man like that might be thrilled to hear that he’d scored a goal. That sort of thing is important to guys. But it
was
a little unexpected. A year ago he was still sleeping in the room he’d had since he was born and now he was going to be a dad. He might freak out a bit when he found out. Because of the suddenness and all. Especially since Les’s dream was to own a Porsche someday. A cherry red convertible. A cherry red convertible Porsche isn’t exactly a family car.

“When?” persisted Shanee.

“As soon as I have a chance.”

My Chances Come

The phone rang that night, while Dragon Lady and I were eating in front of the telly.

I didn’t move. I knew it wasn’t for me. Neither Les nor Shanee would ring that early. Les because he was at work, and Shanee because the Tyler circus would be in full swing at that hour.

Huffing and puffing, she heaved herself from her chair and went to answer it. When she came back she marched straight up to the screen and snapped it off.

“Hey!” I shouted. “I was watching that!”

“And I should’ve been watching
you
,” said my mother. She folded her arms in front of her so she looked like a wall in jeans and a pink sweatshirt. A pissed-off wall. “Just where the hell have you been for the last three days when you should’ve been at school?”

I stared back. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me that,” said my mother. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You haven’t been to school for three days.”

I swear to God, she started tapping her foot. And she thought
I
watched too many films!

“’Course I have.”

Sometimes bluffing worked. I was really good at looking blank and sincere. It confused her. Even though she hated everything about me, part of her didn’t want to think her daughter was a liar.

But it didn’t work this time.

“Oh no, you haven’t.” She jerked her head towards the kitchen. “That was Mrs Mela. She says you haven’t been in since Tuesday.”

“I told you. I don’t like Shakespeare.”

It was incredible how thin she could make her lips when she wanted to.

“To
school.
Not just to English.”

“You mean
this
week?”

Taptaptaptaptap. Fred Astaire would’ve loved her.

“Yes, I mean this week. Why weren’t you at school?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t feel like going.”

“You didn’t feel like going…” Hilary the Parrot.

“That’s right.” I got up and moved towards her, to put the telly back on. “I was feeling too stressed.”

She cackled. “Too
stressed
?
You
?” She flattened herself against the screen. “You think stress is breaking a nail or getting some mud on your jeans.”

“What do you know?”

I made a move towards the TV, but she pushed me back and I whacked into the coffee table. I screamed in pain.

She didn’t care that she’d wounded me. “I know you’ve been bunking off school, that’s what I know. And I’d like to know why.”

I rubbed the back of my leg.

“I hope you’re happy,” I snapped. “You’ve really hurt me.”

“Not yet, I haven’t,” she screeched. “But I will if you don’t start giving me some straight answers.”

I stood up tall. My tummy stuck out in the air between us.

“I told you. I didn’t feel like going. That’s all.”

“No, it isn’t
all
,” said PC Hilary Spiggs. “I want to know where you were.”

I was the same height as her. I stared right into those beady eyes.

“I was here, that’s where I was. Satisfied?”

She wasn’t satisfied. She started banging on about her responsibility as a parent, and my responsibility as a young adult, and what a mess my future was going to be if I got expelled for absenteeism.

“My responsibilities as a
young adult
?” I screamed back. “That’s a laugh. I’m not a young adult to you. To you I’m still a little kid.”

“You get treated the way you act,” said my mother.

And that’s when I told her. Just like that. It seemed like the right moment.

“Oh, yeah?” I gave her my smuggest smile. “Well, for your information it just so happens that
I’m
having a baby.” I stepped up my smile. “How’s that for acting grown up?”

She just stood there staring back at me, looking like I’d bashed her over the head with a dead fish. Then she smiled the way people do in films when they’ve been bashed over the head with a dead fish – or knifed.

“You’re not serious.” There was a squeaky laugh in her voice. “You’re winding me up. Aren’t you, Lana? You’re not really pregnant.”

“Oh, yes I am.” I held up my fingers. “Three months.”

“But you couldn’t—”

“S–E–X,” I spelt it out for her. “That’s how you do it, in case you forgot.”

I could tell she didn’t think I was lying now.

She took a really deep breath and chewed on her lip for a couple of seconds.

Then, as if we were discussing a school trip or something, she said, “I’ll make some tea. We have to sit down and decide what’s best to do. Have you been to the doctor?”

I shook my head.

She was already halfway to the kitchen.

“We’d better get you over there first thing. Make sure everything’s all right.” The kitchen’s just off the living-room, so I could see her grab the kettle and bang it against the sink. “It’s not too late to have it taken care of.”

You’d think she was talking about having the dog put down.

“I’m not having an abortion if that’s what you mean,” I shouted over the running of the tap.

She turned off the water and looked over her shoulder. “You what?”

“I’m not killing my baby,” I said loudly. “I’m having it.”

She cradled the kettle in her arms. She could do a pretty good blank face when she wanted to, too.

“I don’t suppose this means you’re going to put it up for adoption.”

She was dead calm, like a telly that’s been switched off.

“Of course not. It’s my baby. I’m keeping it.”

She suddenly realized she was still holding the kettle. She put it on the counter as though it was made of glass.

“And what about the father?”

“What about him?”

“Is this his decision, too?”

“It’s
my
decision. I’m the one who’s pregnant.”

“But what about the father?” she said again. She was nothing if not stubborn “Where is he?” Her mouth was a straight line. “Better yet,
who
is he?”

That’s all I needed. When I was in primary school, the neighbour’s dog got our dog pregnant. As soon as the puppies were weaned, Hilary Spiggs put them all in a box and left them on the Scudders’ doorstep. She said she’d done her bit, now they could do theirs. I didn’t want her leaving my baby on Les’s doorstep with a note pinned to its blanket,
Your turn now
.

“It’s none of your business who he is,” I said. “You’ll only ruin everything.”

She could still laugh. “
I’ll
ruin everything. And what is it you think you’re doing?”

I held my head high. “I’m a grown-up now. I can take care of myself.”

“You don’t seem to be doing a very good job,” said my mother. “If you could take care of yourself you would have taken some precautions.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to take precautions.”

She wasn’t expecting that. “Are you saying you did this deliberately? You deliberately got yourself pregnant?”

My expression was emotionless. Let her think what she wanted.

“I don’t believe this.” Her voice cracked. “You’re fifteen years old. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t want to saddle yourself with a child—”

“You mean like you were saddled with me?” I shouted. I was probably lucky she hadn’t left
me
on someone’s doorstep. I started crying. “Is that what you mean?”

She went dead still for a second and then her whole face sort of caved in. “Oh, Lana, plea— I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. It wasn’t easy after your dad left … at my age … living with Nan … trying to work out what to do next… We’d lost everything—”