Page 4

Natalie

‘I can’t believe you!

You’re being so unreasonable.

’ Emily’s face is a thunderous storm cloud as she glares at her mother.

Natalie is in the kitchen, scrubbing burnt-on baked beans from the bottom of a pan Emily used for lunch.

This isn’t the first row she’s had with Emily since she and Pete sat the girls down to tell them she was pregnant, and she’s sure it won’t be the last. ‘Emily, please. I hardly think being forty-one weeks pregnant is unreasonable,’ she says mildly.

She’s actually nearly two weeks overdue, and feeling every single second of it.

She’d spent Christmas like a puffed-up balloon, instead of serenely nursing a newborn and watching Pete cook the turkey dinner.

‘You don’t understand how important it is – you didn’t come to the last one either.

This is the open day for literally the only uni I want to get into.

Jake said he’ll take me, seeing as you can’t, and I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of it.

’ Emily slouches against the kitchen worktop.

Because he’s only had his licence for three months , Natalie wants to say, among other reasons, as she forces herself to take a deep breath.

‘There’s another open day there next month.

I thought that’s the one you were going to, anyway, not this one.

’ The baby should have been six weeks old by that point, but now Natalie’s starting to believe she’ll still be pregnant when the next open day rolls around.

‘For f— God’s sake, Mum,’ Emily huffs.

‘Jake is happy to take me, and he’s even found a B and B so we don’t have to drive to Durham and back in one day.

’

‘Oh hell, no.’ Natalie throws the scouring pad into the sink and turns to face Emily, her belly twinging.

‘You actually think I’m going to let you stay out overnight with Jake?

’

‘We’ve been going out for almost a year .

’

‘And you’re still only seventeen.

Jake is twenty. I know exactly why a twenty-year-old man would want you to stay out overnight.

Sorry, Emily, it’s not happening.

’

‘I knew it ,’ Emily hisses.

‘I knew you hated him because he’s older.

That’s why you never want him to come over.

That’s why you keep saying no when I ask if I can go out.

’

‘No, Emily, that’s not it at all,’ Natalie says through gritted teeth, as if she doesn’t know that even when Emily doesn’t go out, she sneaks Jake in through her bedroom window.

Her belly tightens again and she presses her hand to her forehead, feeling weirdly hot.

‘I don’t want you out all hours because you’re supposed to be revising for your mocks.

There’ll be no point in going to any open days at all, if you’re not studying for yourexams.’

Emily gives her a spiteful glare, full of teenage vitriol as Natalie turns to place the saucepan on the draining board.

As she twists, there is an odd popping sensation in her belly, and then water trickles down her legs.

‘Oh.’ Natalie looks down, and then at the remaining pile of lunch dishes waiting to go in the dishwasher.

Relief is the first emotion she feels, even knowing the pain ahead of her.

Relief that this long nine months of heartburn, insomnia, sickness and exhaustion is finally over.

‘Oh. Oh .’ A familiar cramp grips her belly and she groans, pressing her hands to her huge stomach.

‘Mum?’ Emily drops her furious expression and steps towards her, her eyes wide.

‘Mum? Are you OK? Is it happening?’

Natalie closes her eyes and nods, trying to smile.

‘I think my waters have just broken. Can you pass me my phone?’ Pete has been called out to site, to sort out some problem with the drainage even though it’s two days after Christmas and the site is meant to be shut.

She dials Pete’s number, listening as it rings four times and then cuts to voicemail.

‘For fuck’s sake.’ Another cramp comes in a wave and Natalie winces, her breath coming out long and slow.

‘Mummy? Mum?’ Zadie appears beside Emily in the kitchen doorway, and Natalie feels a bead of sweat form at her temple as she smiles through gritted teeth.

‘It’s OK, darling. Mummy’s fine.

The baby’s going to be born, that’s all.

’ She pulls in a breath.

‘Emily, try your dad again, wouldyou?’

Emily dials Pete again, casting frantic glances in Natalie’s direction as her mother grips the kitchen worktop until her knuckles turn white.

‘Voicemail again. What shall I do?’

‘Leave. A. Message.’ Natalie huffs, before snatching the phone from Emily’s hand.

‘Pete? Get home now . My waters just broke, I need to go to the hospital.’

Zadie’s eyes fill with tears and Natalie bends awkwardly, scooping her in for a hug.

‘Why don’t you go and— Ooof .

’ Her belly tightens.

‘Go and watch some telly with Em? It’s meant to snow tonight, so maybe you two can go out in the garden later and Em might make you hot chocolate?

’ Zadie nods, and Natalie gives Emily a grateful smile as she leads her sister into the sitting room, their argument forgotten for now.

Twenty minutes later, Natalie is pacing the hallway, her overnight bag at her feet, as the contractions come five minutes apart.

She can’t help the groans that emerge every time the pain takes a stranglehold on her stomach, and every groan makes Zadie cry just a little bit louder, the sound whittling under Natalie’s skin and scraping her nerve endings.

Finally, Pete flies through the front door, bringing icy December air with him.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ Natalie growls at him as he fumbles with her bag, dropping the car keys as he tries to take her arm.

‘I got cut off as I tried to answer your call,’ he pants.

‘The signal over there is terrible, but I jumped in the car as soon as I got your voicemail. Shush, Zadie darling, it’s OK.

’ Pete reaches out and pats Zadie on the head, before guiding Natalie to the car.

‘And then the traffic was horrendous – every man, woman and child is out at the sales … I know we have to go through town to get to the hospital, but I just thought to hell with it , we’ll use the bus lanes, we’ve got a good excuse—’

‘Pete?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Shut the fuck up.’

Natalie lies back against the hospital pillow, sweaty and exhausted.

She’s lost track of how long she’s been here – whether it’s day or night, even.

Pete sits in the plastic chair beside the bed, his phone in his hands.

He kept stroking her hair off her forehead and squeezing her hand, until she told him to stop.

She knows he wants to help, but every time he did it she wanted to punch him in the face.

It wasn’t like this last time, she’s sure of it.

Both the girls were quick, natural births – with Zadie she hadn’t even had any gas and air – and she had joked with Pete that finally she had found a sport she was good at.

Worry flits across her mind.

Are the girls OK? How long have they been on their own for?

She had called Eve and asked her to come and sit with the girls once they made it to the hospital.

Now she wonders if she should check with Pete, make sure Eve is still there, but before she can speak another contraction squeezes her belly.

She’s too exhausted to do anything more than whimper.

Pete’s phone blares to life, his ringtone cutting through the pain, and she sees his face illuminated by the screen as he holds it up apologetically.

‘Sorry, babe, I really need to take this. That bloody drainage.’ Pete drops a kiss on her forehead.

‘I’ll be back in a tick, OK?

’

Natalie doesn’t even have the energy to be furious.

Another contraction comes, and she sucks deeply on the gas and air, even though it makes her dizzy and her throat feel thick, barely realising when the midwife comes in and gently lifts the blanket covering her lower half.

‘I need to push,’ Natalie says, the feeling coming almost as a relief.

She squeezes her eyes closed, pushing hard, as the midwife encourages her to breathe, keep breathing, Natalie, come on .

Exhausted, Natalie bears down as hard as she can, only slumping back against the pillow as the contraction fades.

I want Pete , she thinks.

She tugs at the sleeve of the midwife’s uniform.

‘Pete isn’t here. I need to wait for Pete, he’s going to miss it all.

’ But then there is another contraction and she has to push again, screwing up her face and trying her hardest even though she’s tired, so, so tired .

‘Nat, I’m here.’ Pete’s face appears in the corner of her vision, flustered and breathless.

‘I’m here. Oh, God, this is actually happening.

’ But Natalie is too worn out to do anything other than close her eyes as the midwife braces for another contraction.

When it comes, Natalie just doesn’t have the energy for it.

Moments later, the room feels crowded and Natalie feels the first inklings of panic through a haze of exhaustion.

There are three midwives and a consultant all gathered around the monitor, murmuring to one another before the consultant – a man with grey hair swished stiffly back from his forehead – smiles down at Natalie.

‘Natalie, I’m Mr Goodfellow.

I’ve had a look at Baby, and things aren’t progressing as quickly as I’d like.

Baby seems to be getting a little bit distressed in there, and I think we need to get him out as soon as possible.

’

Her. It’s a girl , Natalie wants to say, even though she never asked at the scan.

She knows, though; she knows this baby is another girl.

‘With the next contraction, I’m going to need you to push as hard as you can for me.

I’m going to make a small incision, and then we’ll get this baby out in a jiffy.

’ Mr Goodfellow pats her hand.

‘Nurse, get the forceps ready, please.’

The nurses begin bustling around Natalie, doing things she doesn’t fully understand, and then there is the next wave of pain and Natalie grits her teeth and pushes as hard as she can.

‘Oh my God, Nat,’ Pete breathes, ‘she’s here.

You did it. God, you’re amazing.

’ He leans down and kisses her sweaty forehead.

I did it , Natalie thinks.

We did it. We have another baby.

Erin , if she really is a girl, Arlo , if he’s a boy.

It has taken Natalie and Pete ages to decide on names, and when Eve suggested Erin, which had been her grandmother’s name, Natalie had loved it immediately.

So had Pete, luckily, although Natalie has never told him the name was Eve’s suggestion.

Natalie feels hot tears slide out and into her hair, waiting for the wail that will split the air and announce the baby’s arrival.

But there is nothing.

No cry, no shriek. Natalie looks up at Pete, who is pressing his hand to his mouth as the nurses hurry the baby away, towards the resusstation.

‘Pete? What is it? Why isn’t she crying?

’ Panic is back, licking at Natalie’s still-swollen belly.

‘Mrs Maxwell, congratulations, you have a beautiful baby girl.’ One of the nurses appears by the bed and Natalie drags her gaze to meet her eyes.

‘Why isn’t she crying?

What’s going on?’

‘Baby just needs a little bit of help, that’s all.

The doctor is with her now, and as soon as we can we’ll get her over to you.

’

Time seems to stretch out like toffee, seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into hours.

Pete is still clutching Natalie’s hand, and she is vaguely aware that he is squeezing it too hard, crushing the tiny bones of her fingers.

Finally, finally , a cry rents the air, high-pitched and utterly furious.

At first Natalie isn’t sure if she’s imagined it, and then it comes again, just as angry, and then the nurse is there, placing the baby – fists clenched and eyes screwed shut – onto Natalie’s chest. She’s saying something about skin to skin, but Natalie isn’t listening; all she can hear is that beautiful, ear-splitting wail.

‘She’s OK,’ Pete breathes in her ear, reaching out a finger as the baby quiets, wrapping her tiny fingers around his.

‘You scared us there for a moment, little one.’

‘Erin,’ Natalie says, suddenly feeling light-headed.

‘Welcome to the world, Erin.’

‘Nat?’ Pete’s face is alarmingly close to hers, but Natalie can’t speak as black spots dapple her vision and she feels awfully sick and faint.

‘Natalie? Are you OK?’

‘Mrs Maxwell?’ Mr Goodfellow, the consultant, is back and she doesn’t know why he’s here; the baby is born.

Shouldn’t he be looking after another mother now?

‘Natalie, you’re bleeding very heavily, and we can’t stop it.

Natalie. Natalie, you’re haemorrhaging.

We need to get you down to theatre now.

We need to perform a hysterectomy in order to stop the bleeding.

’

Natalie nods, vaguely aware that the baby is no longer lying on her chest but too woozy to do anything about it.

She doesn’t care what happens, what they do to her.

She just wants to see her baby.

As they rush her bed along the corridor, bright lights flashing overhead, Pete runs alongside, his face twisted with worry.

He reaches out and squeezes her hand, and this time she lets him.

The room is dark and Natalie is tucked away in her hospital bed, the curtains blocking out the rest of the exhausted mums on the ward.

Pete left a couple of hours ago, heading back to the house to break the news to the girls about their new baby sister.

He’d fussed over Natalie as they wheeled her from the recovery room to the ward, explaining that she’d lost so much blood, he’d thought she would die.

Telling her how she’d gone so pale it was as though she’d failed to exist, a ghost of a woman.

That they’d taken everything away inside her, it was the only way to save her, but she’d barely registered what he was saying.

Now, it’s 3 a.m., the witching hour, and Erin begins to stir in her cot beside the bed, a murmur that quickly becomes a full-on wail.

Natalie pushes back the blankets, before pressing the buzzer for the nurse.

The anaesthetic has worn off and her belly is a raging inferno of pain.

Erin cries louder, her tiny face red and furious.

‘I’m coming. It’s OK,’ Natalie puffs, just as a nurse whips her head through the gap in the curtains.

‘Baby’s hungry, mum!

’ The nurse says. ‘I’ll pass her to you, you’re not going to be able to lift her yourself.

’

Natalie pushes her way up the pillows into a sitting position.

Oh, God, the pain . She isn’t expecting it – after the girls she’d ached, of course, and she’d been ridiculously out of breath, but this is like no pain she’s ever felt before.

‘Here you go.’ The nurse places the baby in Natalie’s arms, and Natalie sinks back onto the bed, allowing the nurse to get her into a comfortable position.

‘Let me know if you need a bit of pain relief.’

Erin feeds for what feels like hours, and when she’s finished Natalie buzzes for the nurse to put Erin back in her cot, feeling oddly disconnected as she watches the nurse do a quick nappy change before laying Erin down.

The pain relief the nurse bought hasn’t done much, but as Natalie lies down she feels a wave of exhaustion.

Both Emily and Zadie had slept well their first night in the hospital, and Natalie craves sleep like a drug, even if it is just for a couple of hours.

Her eyes droop closed, and just as she is on the edge of dozing off – a blissfully dark oblivion laid out before her – there is a muted cry.

Natalie squeezes her eyes closed, but it comes again, before ramping up into another angry wail.

‘OK. It’s OK,’ Natalie says again, once more pushing herself back up the pillows and pressing the buzzer for the nurse.

She wants to weep at the pain as Erin screams, aware that all the other babies in the ward are sleeping soundly.

Why is she cryin g ?

She fed less than an hour ago; she’s clean and dry.

The sound seems to ricochet off the curtains as Natalie feels more and more out of her depth, a swimmer grasping for the bottom of the pond with her feet.

This wasn’t how it was before, with Emily and Zadie.

Neither of them cried like this.

What’s wrong with my baby?

Natalie looks down into the cot at Erin’s angry little face, at the red cheeks and gaping mouth, the dark curls plastered into sweaty little horns at her temples.

She is utterly furious, this new child of Natalie’s.

Furious with the world. Furious with her .