My breath catches in my throat. ‘It’s not quite the same, is it?’ I try to make my tone sarcastic but my words are shaky. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together. It’s all right for him. He’s so focused on his career he doesn’t want kids, but he must have some compassion: he wouldn’t have wanted to set up Stroke Support otherwise.
‘No, I suppose it isn’t,’ he relents. ‘If you want to go ahead it won’t take long for me to do the paperwork. We just need to agree on the finer points. Reasonable expenses can be paid to Lisa—’
‘We don’t mind what it costs,’ I jump in.
‘You probably don’t,’ says Richard, and I sit back, feeling my spine press against the wooden chair, as though I have been pushed. There’s a part of me that wants to retort we wouldn’t have to worry about money if I drew a salary from the charity set up for Richard’s grandmother and we didn’t rely solely on Nick’s property business for our income, but today, I want to keep us all focused on the baby.
‘You do want to stay on the right side of the law, don’t you?’ Richard’s stare is unwavering, and I squirm uncomfortably. Sometimes I feel he can see right through me.
‘What’s the legal amount to pay?’ Nick asks.
‘This is where it all gets rather murky.’ Richard swivels from side to side in his chair. ‘It’s illegal to arrange a surrogacy for profit, but not illegal for a surrogate to profit.’
‘So Lisa could charge what she wanted?’
‘Not exactly. As I said, it’s not cut and dry. Before the family court will issue the parental order, they must assess what payments have been made. If they believe more than “reasonable expenses” have changed hands then the court has to authorise each payment before the parental order can be granted.’
‘So, we could get to the end of the process and the court could say no?’ There is so much that could go wrong. Frustrated tears prick the back of my eyes as I stare down into my lap.
‘It’s extremely unlikely the court wouldn’t approve – they do have to take into account the welfare and best interests of the child – but it would greatly complicate the process if inordinately large amounts of money had changed hands. Expenses can include any outlay while trying to conceive, during the pregnancy, and expenditure during the postnatal period,’ Richard continued.
‘What sort of things would we need to cover?’ Nick asks.
‘There’s quite a range. Costs involved while you’re getting to know each other, travelling. If Lisa feels she needs counselling that’s your responsibility financially, as are maternity clothes, trips to the hospital, any loss of earnings. We call the payments “expenses” but there is of course a degree of unspoken “profit”, as it were. After all, the surrogate is inconvenienced for a prolonged period of time.’
It irks me he can refer to a pregnancy as an ‘inconvenience’ but I do understand what he means. It’s a huge sacrifice Lisa would be making. If it were up to me I’d give her every penny I could get my hands on.
‘How much do you think?’ Nick asks.
‘It varies but the general rule of thumb is anything between ￡7,000 and ￡15,000. More than ￡20,000 would potentially trigger alarm bells to the court. Expenses prior to conception are usually covered as you go along, and then once the surrogate is pregnant it’s up to you. You can hand over a lump sum or pay a monthly amount. There’s no hard and fast rule.’
‘Is that okay?’ I turn to Nick. ‘We can cover Lisa’s expenses?’ It will wipe our savings out.
‘If you use a clinic it will cost more, of course,’ Richard says.
‘How much extra do you think a clinic might be?’ I’m worried we can’t afford it.
‘I don’t know,’ Nick says. ‘I don’t really want to take out another loan; the repayments for the buy-to-let mortgages are so high.’
‘Perhaps you should give it some more consideration,’ Richard says.
I almost laugh. Nick and I had thought of and talked about nothing else these past few days and had finally made our decision yesterday. My mobile had rested on the kitchen table between us as I called Lisa. The relief in her voice as it drifted out of the tinny speaker was palpable, and I had been touched to realise how much she must want to do this for me.
‘Thank you.’ Tears had shimmered in Nick’s eyes. ‘I can’t believe you’d do this for a complete stranger.’
‘Oh, you won’t be a stranger for long,’ Lisa said. ‘We’ll be getting to know each other very well, Nick.’
After we had ended the call we remained sitting at the table, grinning like idiots, until the sun lost its grip on the sky and I could no longer make out Nick’s features. We’d gone to The Fox and Hounds and giggled as we ordered champagne from Mitch. We kept reminding each other it was early days and we should be cautious, but we couldn’t help racing into the future. Wondering whether Lisa would fall pregnant quickly. Whether we might have a boy or girl.
‘We’ve thought it through properly. Lisa is coming around tomorrow to confirm the finer details. Nick and I can talk again afterwards,’ I say. Nick agrees with me, and it feels like a small victory, but Richard hasn’t finished yet.
‘You do understand if this is successful the child will remain legally Lisa’s until the parental order has been issued after the baby is born? Lisa could keep the baby if she wanted to.’
‘She won’t,’ I say.
‘And how much do you know about her family? There are conditions that can be inherited,’ Richard asks.
I answer immediately. ‘They’re all healthy. I’ve known them for years but we’ll ask her.’
‘It’s not just the physical. There could be mental health issues? Personality traits that can sometimes skip generations?’
‘It’s all going to be fine. You don’t need to worry. Besides, half the baby’s genes will be Nick’s, don’t forget. There’s nothing in your history I should know about, is there?’
Nick pulls a tissue from the box on Richard’s desk and wipes beads of sweat from his forehead as he gazes out of the window. ‘No.’
‘There we go then.’ I rest my palm on his back. ‘Everything’s fine. You’ll be such a good dad, Nick.’
‘I hope so.’ He turns to me. His skin ashen.
‘You’re a natural. I’ve watched you with Ada.’ Clare’s daughter adores Nick. ‘Anyway, it’s not all about nature. There’s nurture too, isn’t there?’
Nick screws his face as though he is in pain. I call his name, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. I stare helplessly as he slumps forward. His head cracking hard against the corner of the desk.
5
Then
Nick sat cross-legged on the threadbare carpet. His dad, Kevin, stretched out on the worn sofa, fag in one hand, ash falling onto the floor. There wasn’t anywhere else to sit. It wasn’t like Nick had a bedroom to retreat to. Cigarette smoke spiralled around the page of Nick’s colouring book. He pressed his crayon harder onto the page, turning the dragon from white to green, and tried not to think about the time they lived in a proper house, like a proper family. That was before his dad put his back out and couldn’t work. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to shave. The odd can of Foster’s he drank to ‘unwind’ at the end of the day became a lunchtime drink to ‘ease the pain’ until the snapping of the ring pull and the fizzing of lager was the sound Nick woke up to. His dad looked different. Smelled different. Was different. With all of his small heart, Nick missed the dad who used to helicopter him around the garden, as well as his grandad, Basil, who had recently died. He had loved staying in his tumbledown cottage, waking to the crashing sound of waves, the smell of salt on the air. Endless summers playing with the local kids on the beach.