Not What They Were Expecting (31 page)

BOOK: Not What They Were Expecting
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‘Would you have been ready to help with towels and boiling water if you’d toppled me over into premature labour?’ she added, speaking to the bus surfer directly, who shrugged, but stretched behind him to grip a pole.

‘Go on, everyone, get back to hiding from the pregnant lady behind your
Metros
.’

Rebecca was bright red in the face now, sweating uncomfortably under her best maternity top, and everyone on the 52 was staring at her like a strange and possibly dangerous specimen.

She’d never felt better in her life.

She’d needed to stand up for herself and for Bomp, and she’d done it. Maybe she could do this on her own.

Rebecca sat there, feeling powerful, looking around the other passengers and watching them avert their gaze whenever they thought she might be looking at them. Then she jolted up at an unexpected feeling. A rush of dampness she didn’t feel in control of, her thighs wet against the seat. Her heartbeat went through the roof as she slid a hand between the seat and her leg to work out if what she thought had happened had just happened. She may have burnt a few bridges if she was going to have to ask for help…

Chapter 40

James was on a sofa, surrounded by plastic toys. The TV was showing a programme that featured a puppet dog that appeared to feature on a lot of the plastic toys piled around him. In the background the test match was on the radio.

‘Here you go,’ said Kam as he came in with cups of tea for both of them.

Kam’s two-year-old son William followed along behind him, and gave James another toy. He was saying something to James with a serious look on his face. James had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Really? Is that so? Thank you!’ James guessed, as a strange smell hit his nostrils.

‘Willy, come here,’ said Kam, ‘James doesn’t need to know you’ve done a big poo, even if he does seem glad to hear about it. Come on, we’ll get your bum changed.’

James was alone in the room again. At least, he’d thought he was. As he delved into his trousers to loosen up the briefs that seemed to have got bunched as he’d sunk into the overstuffed settee, a voice from a pile of cushions and bean bags said ‘you shouldn’t scratch your privates.’

‘Hello, Hannah!’ said James, quickly extracting his hand from his underwear. ‘Didn’t see you there. Are you doing some colouring?’

‘It’s dot the dot.’

‘Right. Right…’

She didn’t seem too traumatised by his delving. That was probably the longest conversation he’d ever had with Hannah, who never seemed to have much to say to him the few times they’d met. She usually just watched him beadily, while carrying on with whatever game it was she was playing. Why he’d ever thought being a childminder had been a good idea was getting blurrier and blurrier the more he thought about it.

‘So you’ve not heard anything from Rebecca then? Off you go, cheeky bum.’

James figured the first question was aimed at him, the second comment an encouragement for freshly-nappied William to go and collect more bits of plastic to give to his guest.

‘I’ve got texts about any check-ups I’ve asked about. Factual ones about how the baby’s doing. That’s it.’

‘Well, that’s something.’

‘Meh. I feel like an alternate weekend dad and Bomp hasn’t even been born yet.’

‘You weren’t doing that one from work were you?

‘No!’ said James, guiltily glancing around at the kids pottering about the room as Kam talked.

‘What were you thinking even thinking about it? You’re not cut out for that kind of thing you know.’

‘I know that. And it was never going to be anything. I just needed to be out of reality for a while. It was flattering. And she’s got an encyclopaedic knowledge of horror movies.’

‘That’s how it starts. One minute you’re discussing the merits of Christopher Lee, the next you’re in a seedy hotel room off Holborn, crying in the bathroom and trying to wash off the stench of guilt. You’re not made for it.’

‘Neither of us are, are we?’ said James. ‘Bang-up job on the cover-up with Becs, by the way. “I told her you were with the guys and she bought it” you said. “I could be a politician” you said.’

‘All right, we’d both be hopeless. The good news is we don’t need to do it. You know from work what the guys most likely to shag around behind the missus’s back are like. Always seem to be barely suppressing rage. Or not suppressing it, if you ever see them with any of my IT support boys. All the frustrations of a broken marriage get sublimated into a broken laptop. And the amount of mucky stuff on the hard drives that gets blamed on “trainees borrowing their log-ins…”’

‘Right,’ said James.

‘How’s your father-in-law by the way?’

‘Whatever made you think of that?’

‘Coincidence.’

‘I dunno. They weren’t talking before I left. They had a bust-up the day of the funeral. She wasn’t putting up with any of his nonsense any more either.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘She’d said enough’s enough, she’s not being a witness at the trial. Turns out he’s done this sort of thing before.’

‘Jeez. So he’s come out?’

‘Not yet…’

‘But wasn’t she just vouching for some medical condition or another? He had trouble taking a piss?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you think he had ever told her that, or was she in on it?’

James remembered then how, when he’d accused her of fudging the truth on her dad’s trial, he’d somehow got the blame for not setting a good moral example. He’d been trying to be supportive because he knew how stressed the idea of court had made her feel in the circumstances. That had worked out well for him. He was about to say something along those lines to his friend when he noticed Kam tapping away at something on his phone.

‘Bollocks,’ said Kam.

‘Something up?’

‘Work,’ he said, putting the phone down next to him, ‘you know this childminding gig thing?’

‘I know, I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea. I wouldn’t know where to start. I’m not even ready to look after a child of my own. But I wanted something that could keep me close to Bomp. Just since Dad, my head’s been…’

‘Yeah, well maybe you need to get a bit of hands-on experience just to be sure.’

‘I dunno, I—’

‘I’ve got to go into the office. A shitstorm in the cloud, or something. Basically everything’s fallen over, and nobody seems to know who’s supposed to be fixing it. I’m needed to spread calm and wisdom.’

‘But I’ve never been left alone with children before. Wouldn’t Kate—?’

‘Kate will be delighted to see you bonding with ’em when she gets home about four. You might even get babysitter privileges.’

‘Can’t you take—’

‘This is the kind of system fallover that could see somebody, possibly me, joining you on the unemployment scrapheap,’ said Kam as he grabbed a case for his laptop and pulled together his stuff for getting out the door. ‘Not sure that’s the best time to try bringing your daughter to work.’

‘But—’

‘You’ll be fine. Hannah basically looks after herself, and just keep feeding Willy organic rice crackers and his juice and he’ll follow you anywhere.’

‘Kam.’

‘Any emergencies you’ve got our mobiles. You’re the daddy now, you’d better get used to it.’

With a kiss on the head for his children, and a reminder that Uncle James was in charge, Kam was out of the house, swearing enthusiastically at someone from the office on his mobile as he went.

‘All right, kids?’ James said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Hannah stared at him with a finger up her nose, William said something entirely unintelligible and handed him a Peppa Pig.

‘I’m just getting a cup of tea. Play nicely!’ James headed to the kitchen and put on the kettle. This was not what he had planned for today. But then again, he had reckoned he could do this for a living. It was going to have a learning curve and just because he was scared of the reality, didn’t mean he couldn’t do it.

He turned with the kettle and almost tripped over Hannah, who was standing silently next to him. Stepping back he almost fell as he kicked one of William’s trucks against the skirting board, which caused the toddler, who had also followed him, to say something else James still couldn’t understand. He got the gist he was a bit grumpy, though. Gingerly putting the boiling liquid on the bench top, he turned around.

‘It’s a lovely day, let’s go outside for a play!’ I’m accidentally rhyming, he thought as he twisted the lock on the patio door out to the garden, I’m a natural.

‘Come on, let’s try the trampoline,’ he said as he led Hannah and William outside. At least, he assumed he was leading Hannah and William. He took a sneaky look at his phone as he walked, to check how long he had to keep the two of them occupied before snacktime. Turning around, he saw Hannah beside him, already putting in some practice bounces.

But William was still inside holding onto the door.

James watched as the boy leaned his weight against the handle and it slammed shut.

William then flicked the lock across.

‘Willy’s not allowed to play with doors,’ said Hannah sombrely.

James ran back to the house and tugged on the door handle, which was definitely locked.

‘Willy. Willy, mate. Open the door now for Uncle James.’

William grabbed his truck protectively and, giving James a scowl, began driving it around the kitchen floor.

‘I’m not cross, Willy, can you open the door? I’ll get you a rice cake!’

William carried on regardless. The phone in James’s hand buzzed. Please let it be Kam on his way home, crisis averted.

It was from Rebecca.

Waters broken. At the hospital. Baby on the way.

Chapter 41

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here so soon, Rebecca.’

Maureen the midwife was checking charts at the side of Rebecca’s bed. The first time she had met Suzanne’s boss, she’d expected a matronly dragon, but the reality couldn’t have been more different. They’d crossed paths on hospital appointments through the pregnancy, and she’d always been warm and lovely. She also had that power headmasters seemed to have of remembering the names of the hundreds of people that come under their care.

‘Did you not have your bag with you when the action got started? Not to worry, your husband can bring it in later.’

‘I’m not sure he’s coming in,’ said Rebecca, ‘but I’ll sort something later.’

Maureen glanced up at her briefly, but carried on the work on the file.

‘OK, love. We’ll work something out. The hospital gown looks lovely on you for now.’

‘Is there any news?’

Maureen attached a couple of large bands around her belly, and plugged her into a foetal heart rate monitor. Rebecca was very conscious that without her PJs everything she was wearing had to be hiked up above Bomp level. She felt like Donald Duck.

‘So we’ve had a look, and those waters are broken all right. Labour’s not really got going yet, though. The doctor will be in to see you soon, but you know your blood pressure was a teeny bit on the high side too. I think we’ll be looking at inducing you.’

‘I see. Righto!’ It was going to be talking like a chirpy pregnant fifties housewife for the labour it seemed to Rebecca. ‘I don’t suppose I’d be able to pop home to pick up my stuff before that happens would I?’

Maureen gave her a raised eyebrow. It hinted at a bit of the steel that Suzanne had been so scared of.

‘I’d take a taxi and get him to wait.’

‘You can go for a walk around the grounds if you like, but no further than that.’

The thwokka thwokka of Bomp’s heartbeat started up on the monitor. Although Rebecca couldn’t exactly say she was used to it, it had become every day, almost a part of herself. Then her own heart rate quickened as she realised it wasn’t going to be long before it wasn’t a part of her any more. Checking the readout that went with it, Maureen turned down the sound and soon it could only be heard in her head.

What a morning, thought Rebecca. When she’d felt her waters go on the bus, she’d been paralysed at first, unsure what to do. But her new resolve kicked her through, and standing up and saying ‘excuse me, I’ve gone into labour’ cleared a space to walk down the corridor instantly. It was a tip worth remembering for the future. She let the cocky young fellah jump back into her seat without telling him what had just happened on there. He’d work it out soon enough. She had more important things on her mind as she walked up to the driver and explained what was happening.

A rather overweight middle-aged guy, the driver perked up a bit when she’d told him the news, asking her what hospital she needed to get to. Rebecca was sure he was all set to divert the bus for a high-speed mission, his bus-driving career building to this point. But Rebecca dashed his hopes when she told him the clinic where she’d be able to see the midwife team was two stops along, but if he wouldn’t mind letting her off right outside the door, rather than a few hundred yards down at the stop itself, she’d appreciate it. He checked how far apart her contractions were. She admitted she wasn’t sure they’d really started yet, so she thought she’d be OK. He grudgingly agreed she was probably right on that front.

But not to be denied his moment, he’d refused to stop to let anyone off or on before he reached the clinic, and took the speed bumps on the road a little faster than Rebecca would’ve liked. Still, as they arrived at the antenatal centre she got a round of applause and some cheers of good luck from the passengers who she’d been afraid would be annoyed with her. The bus driver pulled up and got out alongside her and offered his arm as she walked into the clinic. She was fine but it was sweet, if slightly awkward, of him to do it. As they got towards reception he said his name was Dave, and asked if she knew it was going to be a girl or a boy. It was only after he’d seen her to the front desk and made a surprise move to give her a hug that she realised maybe he was angling for the baby to be named after him. He’d be disappointed to learn that Dave was not on the list.

At the clinic, there was a bit less urgency from the staff than Dave the bus driver had felt. The nurses had checked whether she was having contractions, just like Dave, but Rebecca felt better placed to let them know she wasn’t sure they’d started at all. She’d had a few crampy pains, but not really different from the Braxton Hicks ‘practice’ ones she’d been having for a few weeks now. She’d told them she’d begun to have doubts her waters had even broken, and whether it might not have been some sort of unfortunate small accident on the bus. It wasn’t even her due date yet, and she thought first timers were supposed to be late.

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