Page 31 of The Pieces of Us

The three of us are swallowed by silence as we simultaneously come to our separate realizations. That having a child goes a long way beyond dirty nappies and sleeping arrangements, and that there are few things more precious in a parent’s lifetime than having a small hand tucked into your armpit.

Sean coughs. ‘I should head home. I’ve got chemistry homework to do for tomorrow.’

‘Wait, what else should we talk about? There’s so much to sort out –’

‘Mum, we’ve got months. Let’s take it one step at a time. Isn’t that what you said to me the other day?’

‘See ya, Mrs– Cat.’ Sean pulls his beanie hat over his head. He has a small head, I notice. Will my grandchild have a small head?

‘Bye, Sean.’ I watch them leave.

Ruby pulls the door closed behind them, the only thing that will afford them any privacy to say goodbye in our tiny home. A few minutes later, she slips back into the room.

‘I’m going to keep the baby,’ she says.

‘I know you are, sweetheart.’ My voice cracks before the end of the sentence.

‘I meant what I said at the hospital. I’ll go on the list for social housing if it’s too much of a squash here. I’ll get Child Benefit – that will help.’

I try to visualize a crib in the corner of Ruby’s bedroom, a changing mat on the floor.

My teenage daughter pacing up and down throughout the night, trying to calm a screaming baby, wondering what the rest of her life will be like.

And then there’s Minnie. I have no idea how she’ll respond to the stress of a newborn baby.

‘We’ve got enough room,’ I say. We both know that it’s not really a matter of space, but more to do with the rocky reality of having three – soon to be four – generations living under one roof. ‘We’ll manage. We’ll more than manage. We’ll … boss it . Isn’t that what you kids are saying these days?’

‘ Mum .’ She laughs. ‘You’re daft.’

I put my arm round her shoulder and pull her into me tightly. ‘I don’t want to let go of you. I don’t want you to grow up. Nothing to do with a baby. Just … it’s tough, being a grown-up.’

‘I feel pretty grown-up already,’ she says.

‘Of course you do, sweetheart. That’s why I don’t want to let you go.’ Eventually I do let go and make some tea and we sit quietly, contemplating the future.

‘What about your other plans, Ruby? College …’

‘It’ll still happen,’ she says quickly. ‘I’ll do my exams. I’ll just have to wait until the baby’s older to go to college or get a job.’

I take a deep breath. ‘I’m going to be a thirty-seven-year-old grandmother.’

‘We could pretend it’s yours?’

‘God. I’d be the talk of the town.’

There will never be a perfect time to tell Minnie about the baby, but she seems relaxed tonight, and I have Ruby’s scan photo as a prop. I sit a mug of tea in front of her, kneel by her side and get straight to the point. ‘Ruby’s pregnant.’

She looks at me. ‘She is?’

‘She is.’ I show her the photo. ‘She’s having a baby. Look. This is from her scan.’

‘That’s amazing.’ She holds the photo a few inches from her face.

I smile. ‘Isn’t it?’

‘A baby,’ she whispers, and her eyes drift away.

‘Yes. A baby.’

‘I’ll look after the baby.’ She’s whispering again. ‘I’ll take good care of it. I’ll be a good mum.’

I stroke her hand. ‘You’re a great mum. Let’s drink our tea.’

She pulls her hand away and folds her arms across her chest. ‘I don’t want tea. I want the baby.’

It doesn’t take long for her words – I’ll be a good mum; I want the baby – to make perfect sense to me. She’s not talking about Ruby’s baby. She’s talking about me.

‘The baby will be here soon.’

‘You don’t understand,’ she says crossly, turning her attention to the iPad, jabbing the screen.

‘I’m trying to,’ I tell her.

‘She’s so young,’ Minnie says. ’Young and innocent.’

‘I’m not sure I’d use that word to describe her,’ I say wryly.

‘Of course she is. Wee lamb. Lovely wee Beth. Such a shame.’

‘What? Who are you talking about?’

‘Beth,’ she says impatiently. ‘Who are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about Ruby, Min,’ I say carefully.

‘Wee lamb. Lovely wee Beth.’

It’s not unusual for Minnie to call people by someone else’s name. But this is a first – a name I’ve never heard before.

‘Minnie, who’s Beth?’

She stares at me.

‘Minnie, who’s Beth?’ I ask again.

She laughs. ‘ Ruby , silly.’

I long to dive into Minnie’s brain, to unravel the threads of her story – which is just as much my story – but some of those knots are simply too tight and the exhaustion I’m feeling won’t let me make sense of this. ‘I’ll be in my room,’ I tell her, getting up.

She doesn’t react.

‘Ruby’s pregnant,’ I say as soon as Lisa answers my call.

‘Whoa. You’re kidding .’

‘I wish. She’s keeping it. She’s fourteen weeks. Had her scan today.’

‘Cat, I have no words.’

‘I’ve just told Minnie, and she’s really confused.’

‘How’s Ruby?’

‘She’s been putting on a brave face, but she’s more anxious than she’s been letting on.’

‘Of course she is. And you?’

‘I’m a new level of tired,’ I tell her, curling up on my bed.

‘I bet,’ she murmurs. ‘What can I do to help?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Let yourself feel however you feel, Cat. There’s no rule book on this stuff. But don’t feel guilty … if you’re disappointed. If you wish it wasn’t happening. No parent wants their teenager to be pregnant.’

‘I am disappointed,’ I admit. ‘But I’m disappointed for her. And I’m trying so hard not to show that in case she thinks I’m disappointed in her. It’s just … it’s forever, you know?’

‘I know. Listen, these things happen. It’s a shite cliché but it’s true. It’s life. Ruby’s a great kid. It’s happened. That’s it. And now you have to deal with it. She’s following her heart. Just like you did.’