‘Oh, your pretty shoes,’ Kate whines, clinging to Sam’s arm. ‘They’re ruined.’
‘Give it a rest, woman,’ Sam chides as Kate flings her other arm out and grabs me. I hold on to her as she pants, her red face now red for other reasons. Flashbacks, tons of them, steam forward and swamp my brain – visions of Ava in the latter weeks of her pregnancy, fooling me into believing she was in labour to wind me up, and then the moment she wasn’t playing any more. The moment it actually happened. I look across to my wife as I help Sam hold up Kate, a crowd of people growing. I watch as she throws out instructions, before taking Kate’s arm from me. I’m in a world of my own, rendered immobile by my memories, a useless heap of man amid the pandemonium.
‘Jesse!’ Ava’s sharp shout of my name snaps me back into the room. She’s looking at me in question. ‘You’re the only one who hasn’t been drinking.’ She must catch my confusion, because she pushes on urgently. ‘You need to drive us to the hospital.’
‘Right.’
‘An ambulance!’ Sam yells, frantically looking around the room, like he might find one in Café Royal.
‘Will someone shut him the hell up,’ Kate spits, forgoing the help of her boyfriend and putting all of her trust into Ava, clinging onto her friend. ‘Oohhhhhh God!’ Over she goes again, bending at the waist. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’
Ava starts walking Kate towards the exit, me and Sam following like the useless men we are. ‘Sam, I need you to time the contractions,’ Ava orders over her shoulder, helping Kate along. ‘Jesse, bring the car around.’
Kate takes slow, tentative steps, Ava matching her pace. ‘How bad does it hurt?’ Kate asks, looking to Ava for reassurance.
‘Like a bitch,’ Ava answers automatically. I find myself inhaling, a little stunned. ‘And when that baby’s ready to come out, you’re gonna feel like you’re trying to push a flaming watermelon out of your fanny.’
Kate laughs, and then stops, shouting at the doors of the elevator. ‘Motherfucker!’
‘About sums it up,’ Ava quips, accepting a wet cloth from Raya and dabbing at Kate’s forehead.
‘You’re stealing my thunder,’ Raya jokes, nothing but fondness in her tone as she takes Kate’s other side, the trio of women in a line before us, taking the ropes, putting us to shame.
All that’s left for me to do is put an arm around Sam and walk him on behind while I watch Ava talk Kate through it. Like she’s done it before. Because she has.
*
Five of us sit in the waiting room – me, Ava, Drew, Raya and Georgia. We insisted they stay at Café Royal and enjoy their party. They insisted on coming. It’s past midnight, and Georgia is asleep on Drew’s lap, Raya’s head resting on his shoulder. The constant moans and screams of women are leaking out of the doors of the maternity unit. It’s only been a few hours since we arrived, and I know more than anyone that it could be a long night. But not one of us is prepared to leave. This is a monumental moment in our friends’ lives. We all want to be here for it.
I peek down at Ava. She’s sitting next to me, her gaze fixed on our held hands in her lap.
‘You okay?’ I ask, wondering if she’s thinking about when she had our babies. Looking up at me, she sighs, her head falling onto my shoulder. I reach around with my spare hand and cup her cheek. ‘Does it really feel like you’re pushing a flaming watermelon out of your fanny?’
Her jerking body against mine makes me smile, her laugh soft. ‘Yes.’
‘Ouch,’ I quip, shuddering for effect. Her hand reaches for mine on her face and holds it there.
‘I don’t know where it all came from,’ she says, almost sad. ‘It’s the story of my life at the moment.’
I breathe out, my arse slipping further from the seat. I’m not sure whether I like these little flashes of recollections any more. They don’t excite me, more make me sad. Sad that the instinct is there, but the memory and the essence of that memory isn’t. I close my eyes, feeling so tired.
I have roughly two seconds of shut-eye before I hear some doors open. Shooting my stare towards them, I find Sam standing outside the maternity unit, looking like shit, his face washed out, his eyes bloodshot. For a moment, I’m terrified that something has gone wrong. Then a lazy grin creeps across his exhausted face, and my heart works its way back to a safe pace.
‘It’s a girl,’ he croaks, his voice like gravel. ‘We’ve gone and got ourselves a little girl.’
I’m up in a heartbeat, seeing he’ll collapse with a mixture of happiness and exhaustion if I don’t reach him quickly. He practically falls into my arms. ‘Fuck me, I never want to do that again.’
I smile, knowing exactly how he feels. ‘Congratulations, mate.’ I give him the biggest bear hug, taking most of his weight. A girl. I laugh under my breath. That’s it. Sam has joined Drew and me in girlie hell. I fucking love it.
I release him only when Ava makes it to us to take over the hug, though I’m on standby to catch him if his legs give. ‘Well done. How’s Kate?’
‘Knackered.’
We all come together, hugs and kisses given all around. And it’s beautiful. A beautiful moment in our lives. My only wish is that the twins were here, and as I look at Georgia, rubbing at her sleepy eyes, that wish turns into an ache. Only one more day, I tell myself. Then I see my babies.
Once we’ve said our goodbyes, I walk an exhausted Ava to the car, practically holding her up. I buckle her in, kiss her neck, and linger there for a time, just feeling her on my skin. She’s dozy.
‘I love you.’ Her whispered confession is drowsy, but her deeper nuzzle into me tells me she’s aware of what she’s saying. My heart could burst.
‘I know,’ I whisper back, kissing her hair, holding my lips there for ever.
In this moment, such a perfect moment, I decide what I must do in the morning.
Chapter 40
Ed Sheeran’s ‘Give Me Love’ plays quietly, a soft background noise in our bedroom, the tones calm and relaxing. Ava’s lids peel open gradually, blinking as they do, her pupils shrinking before my eyes as she becomes accustomed to the morning light. I know the second she finds me straddling her waist, because she smiles. And that smile falls the moment she tries to reach for me.
Because she can’t move her hands.
Her eyes dart up to the headboard, where her wrists are securely shackled. A few jerks of her arms later, she returns her eyes to me. I raise my eyebrows. Her mouth drops open.
‘Morning, baby,’ I chirp, resting my palms on the insides of her upper arms, pushing them into the bed.
‘Oh, no you did not,’ she sputters, having a little futile wriggle beneath me.
‘Oh, yes I did.’ I lower my face, slowly getting closer and closer to her lips. She stills. ‘Remember what your last words to me were last night?’
Her eyes slightly widen, and I know, I just know she’s going to deny it. She shakes her head mildly, a smile tickling her lips. Oh, she knows damn well.
‘Have it your way.’ I sigh loudly, dropping my head until my chin meets my chest. ‘I’ll start at three,’ I warn her, my voice loaded with the craving consuming me. ‘And when I get to zero, baby—’
‘What? Are you going to force me to marry you again?’ The cocky edge to her tone is thrilling.
‘Three,’ I begin, not blessing her with an answer as I rise to sit up straight on her waist.
‘Jesse . . .’ she says slowly, cockiness fading and concern creeping forward.
‘Two.’ I hold my fingers up and lazily lower them to her stomach.
She stills, hard as steel. ‘No.’
I walk my fingers south, purposely slowly, prolonging her anticipation. ‘Do you remember what you said?’
Her lips press firmly together, my stubborn little temptress.
‘No?’ My fingertips reach her tickle spot and stops. ‘Fine by me. One.’