The Surrogate

‘My sister has just lost loads of weight,’ Aaron said. ‘She ate proper food too. I could help you if you wanted?’

‘I can’t be arsed counting calories. I’d rather do something quick, like SlimFast.’ Lisa stood and the tumble of buttercups on her skirt scattered over the grass. ‘I’m going to the loo.’

‘What’s up with her?’ Jake asked, shielding his eyes from the sun as we watched her stalk towards the school.

Without answering, I grabbed my bag and followed her.



The toilets were stifling. We stood in front of the cracked basins. The smell of bleach and stale cigarettes thick in the air.

‘Are you pissed off about me and Jake?’ I spoke to her reflection in the mirror as she dragged her brush through her hair. It seemed easier somehow than facing her directly.

‘No. You’re both free agents. You can do what you want.’ She winced as the bristles of the brush caught in a tangle.

‘So why didn’t you meet me this morning? Sit with me in English?’ I removed the brush from her hand and started to work the tangle free with my fingers. ‘What was that about on the field?’

‘Dunno.’ I heard the catch in her voice. Could almost feel the tears burning hot at the back of her throat, transporting me back to a time she’d fallen over in the playground, chasing Reece Walker after he’d stolen my Kit Kat out of my hands. Her knee was bloodied, bits of gravel embedded in the skin but, although her bottom lip jutted out, still she didn’t cry. She always found it difficult opening up, being honest about her feelings.

‘Nothing will change, Lis.’ I rested my chin on her shoulder, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

‘It’s not going to be a casual thing, is it?’ Her voice was small. ‘I could see that from the way you looked at each other.’

‘I really like him, but if it’s going to upset you…’ I didn’t finish my sentence. I didn’t know how to. Really, I didn’t want to choose. What would I do? It would have to be her, wouldn’t it?

‘Everything’s changing.’ She didn’t elaborate but I knew what she meant. Soon we’d be leaving school. I’d be leaving town. She’d be staying. Lisa didn’t want to go to uni; she didn’t know what she wanted. Often, she was like that, ignoring decisions, unable to weigh up options, as if she hoped the future would never come. Me, my path had been mapped out for years.

‘Nothing stays the same,’ I said gently.

‘I know. It’s fine.’ She sniffed. ‘I’m just being silly.’

‘I’ll still spend lots of time with you. We won’t leave you out.’ I meant every word. ‘You’ll find someone too.’

‘Who’d want me? Lardy Lisa.’

‘No one calls you that!’ I checked my watch as the bell rang. ‘I’ve got to go. History.’ I rolled my eyes.

‘I’ll miss you, Kat,’ she blurted out as I tugged open the graffiti-covered door.

‘I’ll see you after school?’

‘I meant when you’re at uni.’

‘I’ll be back every holiday. It won’t be that different.’

I didn’t know then, of course, we weren’t just approaching the end of school. In a way, it was the end of everything. None of us would ever be the same again.





14





Now





‘Are you okay, Kat?’

Lisa touches my arm, and I start. I hadn’t heard her come back up the stairs from the basement.

‘It’s really cool down there. I’d love a man cave!’

‘Let’s go and sit in my equivalent.’

I lead Lisa through the dining room and open the door to the conservatory. The difference in air temperature is startling. Bending, I flick on the fan heater, and it whirrs into life; the smell of hot dust is unpleasant.

‘I thought I’d spend all my time out here when we moved in, but in the summer it was roasting and now it’s freezing.’

‘It’s such a pretty view, though.’ Lisa curls up in one of the two armchairs in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass that overlooks the winter-drab garden, covering her lap with the thick faux fur throw slung over the back of the chair. I sit in the other chair and do the same, drawing my feet under me and tucking my throw around my knees.

We sit in silence watching the birds swing on the feeder, pecking at the fat balls I’d made myself from pine cones, lard, and seed. Next door’s cat slinks into the garden through a gap in the hedge and prowls over to the pond where he taps the thin layer of ice with his paw.

The fan heater clicks as it reaches temperature; the small space is soon heated, but it will quickly grow cold again. I sip my water. My head is throbbing.

‘I’m sorry I drank so much last night.’ I rub my temples.

‘It was a great party.’ Lisa turns to look at me. A wistful expression on her face. ‘You have a good life, Kat. I chatted to Clare for ages. She seems lovely. I’m glad she’s so close by.’

‘It is convenient. She works part-time so I often pop over for coffee when I want a break. Her daughter, Ada, is gorgeous. It’s such a shame her husband, Akhil, left.’

‘He’s Indian, isn’t he, she said? I wonder why Ada’s skin is so light?’

‘I think it happens sometimes with mixed-race children. The genes of one parent are stronger than the other. It’s so sad they split up. They don’t seem to speak; she never mentions him to me, really. We’re still forming our friendship, I suppose.’

‘We were good friends, weren’t we?’ There’s the smallest of nods as Lisa speaks as though trying to remind herself.

‘We still are,’ I say. ‘Not many people would do what you’re doing for me.’

A look of confusion flickers across her face for a second.

‘The surrogacy,’ I prompt.

‘Of course. But that’s not entirely for you. It’s for me too.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You remember when you used to stay behind after school to help the younger kids with maths club and I always thought it was because your dad made you?’

I nod. ‘I enjoyed it. The feeling I might make a difference. Who knows what those kids have gone on to achieve.’

‘Exactly. This is my difference.’

‘A bit extreme though, isn’t it? It’s hardly the same thing.’

‘But it is. I’m doing something for you but I also feel a sense of pride. Who knows who is in here.’ Lisa places a hand over her belly. ‘Or what they will be but I know I will have played a small part in that, and it feels good to do something selfless.’

‘Do you think it’s a boy or girl?’ I ask the impossible question. ‘We’re calling him or her Beanie for now but I’ve been thinking of proper names.’

‘Eva?’

I grin. I’d always said at school I’d name my daughter after my favourite actress. ‘You’ve guessed it. I said Nick could pick a boy’s name but he likes Basil.’

‘Don’t mention the war!’ Lisa howls. Her mum had loved Fawlty Towers, and by the time we were 14 we could quote the scripts from memory.

‘I know! Can you believe Nick’s never seen it? His grandfather was called Basil, apparently. He used to love going to stay with him in Cornwall when he was young.’

‘That’s where Clare’s from, right?’

‘Yes. A different part, though. She wasn’t near the sea like Basil.’

‘Basil.’ Lisa shakes her head. ‘Perhaps I should have the final say on the name?’ Lisa is still laughing, but I’m suddenly serious.

‘Have you given much thought about how this will work?’

‘How do you mean?’ Lisa picks at a stray thread hanging from the throw and begins to twist it round and round her finger.

‘With your appointments? I want to be as involved as I can. In six weeks you can have your first scan.’

‘You’ve been reading up?’

‘I’ve been driving Nick mad. Do you know, by the time you reach the end of the first trimester the baby will be the size of a peach?’

‘You haven’t changed much. Still studying.’

‘I didn’t have a lot of choice, did I?’

‘You must go to university, Katherine. Don’t disappoint us.’ Lisa puts on a voice and looks down her nose like my dad used to. ‘I’d forgotten how hard you’d had it too.’

‘Do you ever see anyone? From school?’ I didn’t finish sixth form. I never went back after the accident.

‘Not really.’ Lisa shrugs.

‘Not even Aaron?’ Even saying his name makes me anxious.

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