‘The teddy? The ring?’
‘The bear was mine. Teddy Edward.’ A ghost of a smile passes Nick’s lips. ‘The ring was Mum’s. It was my grandmother’s first. We can pass it down. If it’s a girl. If you still want…’ Nick smacks his forehead with his palm. ‘Stupid. Of course you won’t want me now,’ he says, and yet, there is hope in his eyes as he looks at me.
I don’t tell him I still want him. I can’t.
There’s a groan from Nick’s dad. A shift in position. I think he’s coming round.
‘Natasha told him about the funeral.’ Nick jerks his head towards his dad. ‘She said she felt he had a right to know but told him he wasn’t welcome to come. He caught me coming out of the office yesterday. Said he left the wreath on our doorstep on the day of the service, thinking I’d take it, but I’d already left. As if a fucking wreath can make up for the years of misery he caused Mum.’
‘The wreath was never for me?’ All along I’d thought Lisa was out for revenge. Or her parents. Even my mum, after I’d stopped outside my old house and seen the twitch of the curtains. Imagined her behind them. Had I really got everything so wrong?
‘Kevin. Him.’ Nick shoots lasers at his dad. ‘Said he’s spent years wanting to get in touch, but didn’t know how, until Mum took a turn for the worse and someone from the nursing home passed on our landline and our address. He told me he’s been ringing here.’
‘But he hung up when I answered.’ I fill in the gaps.
‘He was waiting for me to pick up. He came to the house a few times; probably only when he was drunk and feeling guilty, He was too cowardly to tell you who he was.’
‘He must have been the one looking through the window. Watching me sleep.’
‘He was hoping to see me.’
‘He sent the book? How to Cope with Death. I thought it was because of the anniversary of Jake’s death, or Dad’s death. I thought someone…’
‘I ordered that – did it come? I’ve been struggling.’ Nick seems to shrink before my eyes. ‘I dream of Mum every night. The way she always read me a bedtime story, no matter how late she came home. Turning the pages with hands red raw with cleaning. Always smelling of bleach. I can’t believe she’s gone.’
The book was for Nick. The label on the package had been damp with rain and peeling. Only our surname and address visible. I had assumed it was sent to me. I had assumed too much.
Nick rubs his eyes with his sleeve. ‘Dad said he was sorry for everything but it’s too late, isn’t it?’ It’s a statement not a question. ‘He shouldn’t have come here. It’s all his fault.’
I look at Nick’s dad lying prone on the floor and wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t hurt his back. Lost his job. The different paths we would all have taken. Jake might still be here. We might be a happy family of three, or four. It’s almost incomprehensible how the actions of a complete stranger have shaped my life. The butterfly effect. A flutter is all it takes. So many lives ruined. Mine included.
‘Did you ever want a family, Nick, or were you trying to replace what I’d lost?’ My throat stings as I swallow my bitterness. ‘What you took from me.’
‘Of course I do. It was awful seeing you hurt when the adoptions fell through. I felt so powerless. So responsible.’
‘If we’d tried to adopt here…’ I can’t help thinking it would have been different somehow.
‘Kat. There was so much red tape adopting from another country but at least it was only Richard filling out the paperwork and us signing it. In the UK, with the face-to-face interviews you have to go through, the home visits, it was inevitable you’d become aware I’d been charged with ABH and, to be honest, after we visited the orphanage that time, and met Dewei, I couldn’t imagine not giving a child from that sort of background a home.’
I nod. The first thing I have agreed with. I still feel the weight of Dewei’s loss in my heart, his heaviness in my arms. I still remember row upon row of cots cramped into one tiny room. The endless crying. The smell of faeces and despair.
‘I was gutted when Dewei went to another family. After Mai… it was almost too much to bear. I decided we’d be better off trying to adopt in the UK after all. I was going to tell you I had a criminal record, but then you suggested surrogacy and it seemed, well, it seemed like the better option and it’s working okay, isn’t it?’
Ignoring his question, I drift back to our celebratory dinner at The Fox and Hounds. Giddy with champagne and hope. It all seemed so long ago.
‘Did Richard sabotage the adoptions?’
‘God, no. He fought really hard. He offered some of his own money to try and get Dewei here. He does care about us, you know. He’s just always been wary of me being with you, of the past coming back. He’d lied to the police, don’t forget, told them he’d lent the car to Mum that night and she was alone.’
The ripples of deceit spread.
‘When you told me Lisa was Jake’s brother, he was deeply unhappy with the connection. That day we all had lunch, he talked to Lisa in the garden, accused her of being a gold-digger. Ordered her to stay away from us until she went into labour or he’d stop the extra payments. He didn’t want… I’m so sorry. I know how much you wanted to be involved with the pregnancy.’
‘There is no pregnancy,’ I say harshly, and I see the hurt in Nick’s eyes and realise how much he wanted this too. ‘You’d better come with me.’
‘Where?—’
But I don’t answer.
Nick trails me into the hall. I open the door of the basement. It is gloomy. Silent.
‘I don’t understand?…’
‘Shhh,’ I say. Fear grips me, and I can’t put a finger on why but I can almost sense something has happened to Lisa. Without thinking, I hurry down the stairs and must be about halfway down when I lose my footing and slip. A blood-curdling scream full of pain fills the air. But my lips are clamped together.
It isn’t me who has screamed.
55
Now
Everything seems to slow, my hands gripping air as I tumble down the stairs. For a second I see my dad falling, hear the sickening crash as he landed at the bottom of the stairs. There’s a searing pain in my knee as I land awkwardly and a strange sensation of floating but I tumble back to reality as it comes again.
The scream.
Lisa is lying on the sofa on her back. Knees bent.
‘Lis?’ I scramble over to her.
‘It’s coming.’
‘It?’ I can’t make sense of what she is telling me, and my head is throbbing where it banged against the bannister.
‘The fucking baby,’ she bellows, and I am suspicious. Elated. Confused.
‘There’s a baby? You really did it? The surrogacy? God, I’m so sorry, Lis, for doubting you.’
‘I’m not ready.’ Lisa’s distress spreads like ripples in a pond.
I am aware of Nick hovering behind me. I can feel his panic matching mine.
‘He shouldn’t be coming yet,’ I say, as though my words might be able to change things. I can’t believe this is happening.
Lisa doesn’t speak. Her face hot pink, fringe damp and plastered to her forehead. The whole room stinks of sweat. She pants, and I stroke her hair, let her grip my hand.
There’s a baby.
‘Call an ambulance, Nick.’
‘With the response times somewhere this rural? Last time someone in the village called an ambulance it took a fucking hour. We’d be better off taking her to the hospital in the car. Can you stand, Lisa?’ Nick says.
‘No. I can feel the head.’ Lisa is crying.
‘I’m going to have a look,’ I say.
Nick turns to the wall as I ease down Lisa’s knickers. ‘She’s right. There’s not enough time to go anywhere.’
‘Fuck.’ Lisa throws her head back and bellows. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t.’