‘You can.’ I feel a rush of warmth towards her. ‘We can. Together. Look at me.’
She turns her head, her eyes full of tears. We are locked together in this moment, in every moment that has come before. School plays where she’d cheer me on, exams I’d help her revise for, bad haircuts, birthday parties, first love, first loss. It has always been together and all of it was leading to this. I am stunned but I can’t afford to stand around thinking how I’ve got her wrong.
‘Nick.’ I snap to attention. ‘Boil some water and fetch some towels, some scissors and something warm to wrap the baby in.’
He hurries up the stairs, and when he’s gone Lisa says: ‘Kat. There are things I need to tell you… Christ. This hurts.’
The muscles in my back scream as I hunch over her, remembering all the times I’d watched One Born Every Minute. My teeth are gritted as I hold the baby’s head in my hands, waiting for the next wave of contractions. Lisa can’t stop babbling. Shouting. Screaming. And I don’t try to guide her. Her body knows what to do, and she will cope with this in any way she can.
It seems like an age before Nick comes back with a scalding kettle full of water but no bowl, and the towels from the bathroom, damp from use, but I don’t send him back for more. It’s nearly over. Lisa has stopped talking and is wailing and grunting. I tell Nick to hold her hands, and he shouts out in pain as she squeezes too tightly.
With one last guttural cry, Lisa pushes, and the baby slithers into my arms and, although he is covered in gunk, I have never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.
But he is still. Silent. Blue.
He’s not breathing.
Strangely, I am suddenly calm. I’ve seen enough births on TV to automatically ease my finger between the umbilical cord and his neck. There’s a gasp. A juddering breath. A piercing cry, and I’ve never heard anything quite so lovely. He is small, but not worryingly so. Perfectly formed.
‘It’s a boy, Lis.’
Nick hands me scissors and I carefully cut the umbilical cord and wrap the baby in the fleecy lemon blanket with the giraffe in the corner that Nick has fetched from the nursery.
‘Lis?’
‘I don’t feel right, Kat.’
Suddenly there is blood. Too much blood. Lisa’s lungs rattle and she is chalk white.
‘Nick.’ I place the baby gently on the floor. ‘‘Fetch some cold water, a flannel and a phone. Hurry.’
‘Kat,’ she whispers. ‘I’m scared.’
‘You’re going to be fine,’ I say, but as I cradle her face between my hands, her eyes start to roll back into her head.
56
Now
I don’t hear Nick come back into the room. I don’t know he is here until he touches my shoulder.
‘Kat.’ He says more than just my name but all I hear is static. I am sobbing so hard I cannot hear. I cannot speak. My head is resting on Lisa’s chest but underneath my ear there is no beating of her heart.
‘Kat,’ Nick says again. This time his hands are under my armpits and he tries to hoist me to my feet, but I grab hold of Lisa’s shirt.
‘Noooo.’ I don’t want to let her go. ‘Please…’
‘Get out the fucking way, Kat,’ Nick shouts. There’s a whimpering to my side and my eyes are drawn to the baby. My baby. His tiny fingers are flexing. His eyes screwed shut. I scoop him into my arms and step to the side.
Nick tilts Lisa’s head back, and despite seeing resuscitation a million times on TV, there is none of the tension I feel when I watch Casualty, none of the drama, just a sad resignation it is too late. But still I watch. Two breaths. Thirty chest compressions. I count them in my head. Two breaths. Thirty chest compressions. I wonder if that is the right number. I wonder if it matters.
‘Fuck.’ Nick sits back on his heels. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ I am shaking violently with shock. I can’t believe what has just happened.
‘We have to phone an ambulance. They’ll probably call the police.’
‘What about the baby?’ I draw him closer to my chest. He yawns, wide and gummy.
Nick toes the floor with his shoe and looks at anything but me.
‘You think they will take him away?’
‘He’s not ours, Kat. Lisa has a family. They will want him.’
‘He is ours. We had a contract.’ Everything is slipping through my fingers. Grains of sand on the beach. The sandcastles me and Lisa used to build crumbling into nothing as if they were never there. But this baby, he is here: real, solid, and I won’t let him go.
‘The contract isn’t legal. Richard warned us. The baby has to live with us for six weeks before a residency order can be granted. Besides…’
‘Besides, what?’ I try to keep my voice calm as I rock from one foot to another. Gulping back salty tears.
‘He can’t be ours, can he? I don’t know much about babies but, even if he’s early, it’s still too soon, isn’t it?’
‘Shut up, shut up, shut up.’ I hiss out my words. I am not going to think about the way Lisa had clung to my hand as Nick located towels and boiled water, fetched the blanket from the nursery, telling me how miserable she’d been since Jake died. How her mum seemed disappointed she was the one who was alive. How lonely she had been. It had been easy to get drunk in the pub on what would have been her and Jake’s 30th birthday. It had been easy to fall into bed with Aaron at the end of the night, despite the fact they hadn’t spoken for nearly ten years.
‘I didn’t know what to do when I was pregnant,’ she had sobbed. ‘I didn’t plan it. Any of it, I swear. Aaron is married. He doesn’t want his wife finding out. He said it was a mistake and he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby.’
‘I thought you’d made the pregnancy up. I thought you were both trying to extort money from me.’
‘No! How could you think that?’
Lisa screwed her face up tightly before she carried on. ‘I noticed you in that magazine and it said you lived in Craneshill. I just wanted to see you. I’ve missed you so much. I haven’t seen Dad in years. Me and Mum barely speak. I wanted to talk about Jake.’ Lisa gabbled as I focused on delivering her baby, and I let her ramble on. ‘You know I didn’t ever want a baby. I can’t be a single mum. Couldn’t tell Mum I’d had an affair with a married man, like dad.’
‘You were pregnant when we met?’ I am strangely calm.
‘Yes, but I’d booked an abortion. It seemed like fate you wanted a baby and couldn’t have one. I thought I could make everything up to you. There was only a few weeks difference, and I thought if I kept you away from the scans you’d never know how far along I was. I read a newspaper article about that singer who wanted a surrogate and it was easy to pretend I’d done it before.’
Another contraction swept over her and the sounds she was making were like an animal in distress. She was panting hard as she started to speak again.
‘I don’t see Mum often anyway. I knew I could avoid her for a few months, and by the time he was born and you found out from the date he couldn’t possibly be yours, it would be too late. You’d already love him. Want him. Give him the home I never could. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I panicked. I’m so sorry.’
‘How could you?’ There had been no surprise in my voice. Only resignation. I think that part of me had already known.
‘My life is a mess, Kat. I’ve never had a career. I’ve always suffered with bouts of depression, spending weeks in bed at a time. I’ve never been able to stick to a job. I made up working in the hospital so you’d respect me. I didn’t think there was any harm. I’d get some cash and you’d get the family you wanted.’