Descending Surfacing (18 page)

Christmas Day was quiet. I was used to spending it on my own, but of course this year I wasn’t alone, I had Adam. And Tess and Honey popped round for high tea as they did every year.

‘
Sit down,’ ordered Tess, swanning into the kitchen with a large box of food. Honey followed with a mysterious clinking bag. I did as I was told.

‘
What did you have for Christmas dinner?’ called Tess from the kitchen.

‘
A turkey breast and jacket potato, and some veg. Adam had milk of course.’

‘
That isn’t too bad. Well done.’

‘
Don’t be too patronising, will you?’

‘
Sorry.’

‘
You can come in now,’ trilled Honey, clapping her hands in excitement.

My two friends set up the tea on the kitchen table. Cold ham, salad, pickled onions, bread and butter, mince pies. I felt tears in my eyes. We had done this last year at Tess’s house, but this year it was more special. Adam was sleeping in his travel cot. I didn’t want to shut him away in my bedroom in his cot. He deserved to be at the high tea even if he was unconscious.

‘
Here’s to you, Emmy,’ said Honey, waving a glass of orange juice.

‘
Me? What have I done?’

‘
What have you done? Come on, I couldn’t have done what you did this year! Me as a single mum - I’d be hopeless!’

‘
Me too,’ added Tess. ‘Well done. You’re an independent woman, not relying on a man.’

I couldn’t speak, so clinked glasses with them.

The next day, Gareth and family descended on me.

‘
Merry Christmas, lovey.’ Lesley embraced me, nearly squashing the breath out of me. ‘Here’s your presents.’

Amelia and Jacob looked tired, so I quickly switched on CBeebies, which was the Christmas Pantomime show. They were entranced, any niggles quickly forgotten.

Lesley had insisted they stay in a hotel nearby rather than in my small flat, so I hadn’t had to worry about preparing for them.

Later in the afternoon, Gareth and I were almost asleep with Amelia and Adam on our laps, half watching the television. Amelia was fascinated by Adam.

‘
Does he drink milk from your boobs?’ she asked me.

Gareth laughed.

‘
Now, what did I say about asking ladies that question?’

‘
It’s alright. Yes, he does.’ I was smiling too.

‘
You know what you said about tracing our father?’

‘
Ye-es…’

‘
I’ve made progress. I found out he moved to Scotland after he left us.’

‘
Oh.’ I paused, a hundred comments running through my mind.

‘
It's just what happened. I won’t spoil Christmas, just wanted you to know.’

We sat in silence for a while, deep in thought.

‘
Did Mum know, do you think?’

‘
I’ve no idea. You spent more time with her because I was such a wimp.’

‘
When was the last time you saw her?’

‘
Just before she died, remember?’

I did remember the awfulness of it, the inevitability of her death, the knowledge of the loneliness to come. But then the safety curtain came down in my mind, fortunately.

‘
Did you visit her grave?’ I asked.

‘
No. Should I?’

‘
Yes, we both should.’

The New Year started quietly. I was glad to see the back of the old one. This time last year, I was…. well, no point thinking about it. I had a new life now. Everything was behind me, even Jamie.

My health visitor, Philippa, insisted that I go to a mother and baby group in the local community centre.

‘
It’s not so much for Adam, it's for you to find someone to talk to with the same interests. Now you’re a mum, you may find your old friends have less in common with you.’

Some of the other health visitors were patronising but I trusted Philippa, so the next Monday I bundled Adam up and took him to the centre.

I was a bit late and nervously crept in but, to my relief, it seemed quite casual. Mothers were sitting all round on the floor while their babies lay in front of them on mats or crawled round. Some were crying, some were content.

Unfortunately, the minute we went in, Adam began to cry. I hastened to an empty part of the floor and got his bottle out which I’d thought to prepare beforehand. Stupidly, I hadn’t brought a bib and tried to wrap a muslin cloth around him. This annoyed him and he fussed at the bottle. No one seemed to take any notice and I wished someone would come and help me.

‘
Hello!’ said a friendly voice and I looked up to see a woman a little older than me, dressed in flattering maternity clothes. I hadn’t been able to afford too many proper maternity clothes and bought them from charity shops.

‘
I’m Karina. Is this your first time here?’

‘
Yes.’ I was struggling with the muzzy and didn’t really want to talk.

‘
What’s his name?’

‘
Adam.’ Why couldn’t she just help me?

‘
Ah, how lovely. Does he sleep through the night?’

‘
Sometimes. I’m a bit tired actually.’

She went and fetched her baby, a girl in pink with tiny hair slides in her sparse hair.

‘
This is my daughter, Sarah. She’s ten weeks old.’

‘
Adam’s eight weeks. Could you help me with the cloth please?’

I was sure Karina had never struggled with Sarah, she seemed so efficient, but she did help me tuck the cloth round Adam.

I didn’t really speak to any of the other mothers, I was too overawed. It was so unfamiliar. I’d never looked after babies or thought of myself as a mother, so I felt like a complete novice whereas everyone else knew what they were doing.

Then the next week, quite abruptly, Adam began fitting in to a routine. He became a smiley baby, chuckling at everything, and I began to feel like a proper mother.

I took long strolls with him although the weather wasn’t really up to much. But I didn’t care. A contented baby equals a contented mummy and vice-versa. That’s the mantra that had been drilled into me by all the midwives and health visitors.

On one of our walks, I began thinking about how I could repay the kindness of my old school friends. They had given me so much time and love, arranging outings and helping with Adam. How about if I held a DVD evening at my flat? Adam slept through anything these days. Tess and Honey could come along too as my new and old friends all knew each other now. Yes, that’s what I’d do. Now, which DVDs would I get? Something to interest everyone: not too soppy and girly, but not too action packed.

We were out of the suburbs and into the city streets now, window shopping. At the entrance to a café, I nearly ran the pram over a man going in. He had walked so quickly round the corner that I had driven straight into him.

‘
Oh, sorry,’ I was used to doing that. Men just didn’t notice women with prams. I looked more closely at him. Dark hair, dark business suit… was it…?

‘
Emily?’

Jamie looked as shocked as I felt. His face had changed in the way boys’ faces did in adolescence. He hadn’t been chubby but there must have been some puppy fat there because I could now see his cheekbones. He had obviously been working outdoors as his complexion was darker and, despite his smart appearance, his hands were calloused and grazed. All this registered in a split second.

‘
H-how are you?’ I asked.

‘
Good, thanks.’ His eyes flicked from me to the pram, back and forth. I waited. I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

‘
Who’s this?’

‘
He’s my son.’ I gazed up defiantly at him. He’d grown, he didn’t used to tower over me like that.

‘
Your son- is he-‘ I’d never seen the colour drain out of someone’s face so quickly. I could see him frantically doing the maths in his head.

‘
Of course he’s yours!’ I didn’t realise how much bitterness had been stored up inside. ‘How many others d’you think I slept with?’

Some passers-by gave us strange looks but I didn’t care.

‘
Look at his hair.’ I gently peeled Adam’s hat back to reveal it. The same mahogany colour as Jamie’s. Mine is more chestnut.

‘
I’ve got a job interview. Gotta go.’ He strode away from the café entrance, head down.

Chapter 5

Well, that was that. I expected to feel a big thump of emotion but I didn’t. Adam had all my love now, not Jamie. It suddenly struck me that Adam would be a boy one day, like Jamie. Because that was all Jamie was, a boy. How selfish I was to think he could cope with being a father. I had tried to keep the news from him but it was inevitable it would come out. It was only because he’d moved away that he hadn’t found out before.

When I got home, I flopped onto the sofa. Adam was asleep, thankfully. Seeing Jamie had been a shock but it wasn’t like that time I saw him in the supermarket last year. The feelings were still raw then but now they were distant memories.

We had got on alright, Jamie and me, when we lived together in my flat. I thought back to those chaotic and nervous days, always wondering if someone would find out about us, living carelessly and in the moment. Of course we had been found out, but for those days - what had it been, a few weeks? - life had been so intense, a spurt of powerful feelings in the dull, plain landscape my life had been back then.

What did he think now? He had walked off so quickly. He had probably forgotten me after I’d left the college. Teenage lives were so full and exciting, I was probably a barely remembered notch on his bedpost.

I smiled to myself at the old fashioned expression. I had wondered so often what he thought of our relationship but, in truth, he probably hadn’t thought anything. He may have other children. He could be in a steady relationship. His life was far from mine now.

But I had Adam to think of; I shouldn’t let memories of Jamie distract me.

I hadn’t really enjoyed the mother and baby group but forced myself to keep going every week or I wouldn’t meet any other parents. I knew Karina and she introduced me to other mums. Karina was a deputy head teacher, so I didn’t tell her I used to be a learning support assistant, just in case she started quizzing me about why I left my job.

The others all had high powered jobs too: police officer; marketing director; solicitor; psychiatric nurse. There was just one other who was a single mum like me, Anneka. I tended to sit near her as the others were just too intimidating. Anneka had been a nanny before having her own child, however, and knew everything about tiny babies, so she could be intimidating in her own way.

Karina arranged a night out for mums: a meal at a local restaurant. ‘We need to go out and be just women, not mums or wives,’ she said, sounding tired.

‘
I don’t know if I can get a babysitter,’ I hesitated.

‘
Oh, come on, there must be someone. We all need some time off!’

I called Anneka. ‘I’m not sure about leaving Adam with a babysitter.’

‘
Why don’t you bring him round here? My parents said they would babysit Rachel, so they can look after Adam too.’

It was an idea. I agreed.

The night of the meal came and I nervously left Adam with Anneka’s parents.

‘
Don’t worry about anything, love. I’ve been a childminder for years,’ said Anneka’s mum, ‘and Stan isn’t bad with a nappy.’ She smiled at her older husband, a Father Christmas lookalike.

So Anneka and I set out on foot to the restaurant, an upmarket wine bar nearby.

‘
It’s a set menu,’ said Karina, meeting us at the door. She told us the price which was high.

‘
I wish I’d saved up for this,’ muttered Anneka to me. I felt the same.

The wine bar was genuinely old worlde and we were ushered upstairs to a private room. There were nine other mothers I knew to varying degrees, but unfortunately Anneka went to the far end of the table where there was no room for me. I found myself next to Mandy, the nurse.

‘
Alright?’ said Mandy coldly. ‘How’s Adam sleeping?’

‘
Oh, not too bad.’

‘
My Sophie sleeps right through, she always has done. John and I are such relaxed parents though; it must rub off on her. It must be harder for you as a single mother…’

I switched off. I was tired of hearing this, so just nodded at intervals.

Karina was opposite Mandy. They got on very well and were constantly laughing and joking, taking the mickey out of each other.