Page 36 of The Pieces of Us

The next morning, I feel like I’ve been dropped from a great height on to the road then hit by a bus.

I stretch my arms in the air, trying to coax my body into movement.

Ouch . I stare at the ceiling and try to put the mishmash of thoughts into some kind of order.

I’m still trying to work out how to move my body in the least painful way when Ruby appears in her Costa polo shirt, which looks distinctly snugger around her middle than it did a few weeks ago.

‘I checked on you when I got home last night, but you were sound asleep. Pete called and told me what happened. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you OK? Your face …’

I touch the tender spot on my cheekbone. ‘I’m fine. It looks worse than it feels. Give me a hand up, will you? I’ll be fine when I’m moving around.’

‘You’re staying in bed,’ she says. ‘I’ll sort Gran out before I go to work.’

‘I’m getting up.’

She sighs. ‘You’re so stubborn. OK, but take your time. I’ll go and see to the other stubborn one.’

After I’ve gulped down two paracetamol and used every ounce of my strength to propel myself out of bed, I join them in the kitchen, where Ruby is stirring eggs and Minnie is, for once, waiting patiently for them at the table.

‘What happened to you?’ Minnie stares at me, aghast. ‘Did you get into a fight?’

‘I fell down the stairs. I’m fine. Let’s all just have some eggs.’

Ruby pulls a face as she puts our plates on the table. ‘I’ve gone off eggs, remember? I’ll get a croissant at work.’

‘Ah yes,’ I say wryly. I can’t keep up with her aversions. ‘It’s lucky you’ve not gone off pastry.’

‘I can’t find my hairbrush. Can I borrow yours?’

‘On my bedside table,’ I tell her.

‘Did you get into a fight?’ Minnie asks, scrutinizing my face.

‘No, Min. I fell down the stairs.’

‘You’ve always bruised like a peach,’ she says knowingly.

‘What’s this? It was by your bed.’ Ruby’s back, holding up the silver baby bangle.

‘It’s Minnie’s bangle.’ I glance at her across the table. ‘I found it in your jewellery box, remember?’

Ruby frowns. ‘I thought you might have bought it for my baby. But then I saw it’s engraved. Whose initials are those? Not yours, Gran.’

‘They are so.’ Minnie reaches up and snatches the bangle from Ruby’s hand.

I catch my daughter’s eye, shake my head and hope she gets the message: Let it go .

Minnie tuts loudly. ‘I don’t know what you’re thinking. Having a baby at your age.’

‘ Gran .’ Ruby stares at her.

Minnie leans towards me conspiratorially. ‘Beth’s good fun. She’s just a bit young to be having a baby.’

‘Who the fu– Who’s Beth?’ Ruby mutters.

‘I’m not sure,’ I lie, trying to keep my face neutral.

She looks at me, then rolls her eyes. ‘This family is crazy. I need to get to work. See you later.’

‘Take your coat!’ I yell after her.

‘She’s right,’ Minnie says. ‘This family is crazy.’

‘Takes one to know one, Min,’ I mutter under my breath.

She wanders off a few minutes later, her eggs unfinished. Despite her dogged declaration of ownership, she’s left the bangle beside her bowl. Abandoned, like the contents of a Christmas cracker.

E. S. M . It’s there for a reason, both the engraved letters and the bangle itself, among Minnie’s belongings, now part of my home.

Of all the girls’ names beginning with E, Elizabeth is one of the first that comes to mind.

A strong, dignified name rooted in religion, in mythology, in royalty.

A name with many short forms, including Beth.

I hold the hoop of silver that once encircled my birth mother’s wrist.

The baby bangle stays on the kitchen table for more than a week, in full sight, untouched by Minnie.

Finally, after a late-night and long overdue tidy, I put it back into the jewellery box, then into my underwear drawer.

But it’s not a case of out of sight, out of mind.

The delicate letters engraved into the silver are etched into my brain.

I wake up with a start, to a noise. I hear it again, more clearly this time, and fumble around in the darkness, stuffing my feet into my slippers, quickly abandoning my search for my dressing gown. I hit the light switch in the hall and shield my eyes from the intrusive glare.

My first thought is of Minnie, but the low whimper coming from the bathroom isn’t hers. ‘Ruby, sweetheart, are you all right?’ I knock on the door, ‘I’m coming in, OK?’

She’s on the toilet, her pyjamas around her ankles. Her fingers are gripping her knees and her eyes flash with terror. ‘Mum. Something’s wrong.’

I crouch in front of her. ‘Are you bleeding? In pain?’

She nods.

‘Both?’ I rub her bare shins.

‘I’m bleeding. It feels a bit like period pain. This shouldn’t be happening, right?’

‘Is the bleeding heavy? Or just spotting?’

‘I don’t know,’ she wails. ‘Not heavy … I don’t think. Mum, I’m scared.’

‘OK, we’re going to get you checked out. I’ll call Lisa and ask her to come here for Minnie, then take you to hospital.’

‘Hospital?’ Ruby’s eyes widen and I wonder, yet again, how she can even be old enough to be in the position of having a child of her own.

The fear on her face shocks me into action. Twenty minutes later, Lisa and Charlie are in the living room. ‘It’s no bother,’ Lisa says, dismissing my stream of gratitude. ‘We were awake.’

‘I don’t want anything to go wrong,’ Ruby says as I help her navigate the stairs. ‘I want this baby, Mum. I didn’t even realize how much until this happened. I can’t bear to think about losing it.’

She barely stops for breath during our journey through the quiet, gloomy city. She thinks the baby’s a girl, she says, but she doesn’t care either way because she just wants everything to be OK.

I tell her a story I’ve told her many times before, and she stops talking, finally, and puts her head on my shoulder and listens to how, when I was pregnant with her, I made Minnie take me to the doctor because I was convinced something was wrong with the baby.

‘I had the strangest sensation,’ I tell her.

‘Like a muscle spasm that wouldn’t stop.

I couldn’t work out if it was coming from me or from you. I panicked.’

‘What was it?’ she murmurs, knowing the answer.

‘It was hiccups,’ I say, just as the taxi pulls into the hospital car park. ‘You had hiccups. I had no idea a baby in the womb could get hiccups.’

A & E is surprisingly quiet and we only have to wait a few minutes before we’re taken to the maternity unit and into the care of Hannah, a young midwife with an immaculate French braid that hangs down her back.

Ruby is still holding my hand. ‘Can I stay?’ I ask.

‘Of course you can. You can sit over there and, Ruby, I’d like you to pop on to the bed and lie down so I can listen to your baby’s heartbeat and have a wee feel of your tummy. You’re around twenty weeks now, right?’

Ruby nods, her eyes glued to Hannah’s face. ‘I’m not feeling any kicks yet. Not proper ones. Just funny little flutters.’

‘Totally normal,’ Hannah tells her, and Ruby grins at me in relief.

I sit in the corner, relieved to hand the reins to a professional. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for the last hour. I realize I forgot to brush my teeth and forage in my bag for a mint.

‘Everything feels OK in there, Ruby. I’m going to check your baby’s heart rate now. Let’s hear how it’s doing, shall we?’

‘Sure.’ Ruby turns her head towards me, and I can still see the fear in her eyes.

Love you , I mouth. We maintain eye contact until the baby’s heartbeat shoots into the room, an undeniable presence.

‘Wow,’ says Ruby.

‘Wow indeed.’ Hannah smiles down at her. ‘That sounds absolutely brilliant to me.’

‘The cramps aren’t as bad as they were,’ Ruby tells her.

‘Even better. Let’s just listen for a wee bit longer. That’s a strong heartbeat, Ruby.’

We listen in silence to the steady soothing sound of a new life beginning.

‘Ruby, I want you to know that lots of women experience some bleeding during pregnancy,’ Hannah says. ‘Most of the time it’s absolutely nothing to worry about. But I promise we’re going to keep a close eye on you, OK?’

‘OK.’

‘Take a few minutes to get yourselves together while I update your records.’ Hannah sits at the computer.

‘I want you to keep an eye on what’s going on down there, OK?

Monitor any bleeding – how much, how often, whether you have any pain at the same time.

If it’s more than spotting, or even if it’s not, and you’re just worried, this is where to come. ’

‘OK.’ Ruby still looks anxious, like she wants to stay in this room, barely bigger than a cupboard, with gel on her belly and the sound of her baby’s heartbeat, for the remainder of her pregnancy.

‘I was going to suggest you come back here tomorrow for a scan, but I see you’ve got your mid-pregnancy scan scheduled for Monday. That’s perfect. In the meantime I want you to rest as much as possible. Don’t have sex until we’re confident the bleeding has completely stopped.’

‘No danger,’ Ruby mutters, pulling up the waistband of her leggings. ‘Also … my mum is here.’

Hannah laughs. ‘Your mum seems pretty cool.’ She gives me a wink on her way out of the room.

‘I like her,’ I say as I button up my coat. ‘Seems like a good judge of character.’

‘Funny,’ Ruby groans, but she’s smiling.

I sleep until noon, wake up alone and in a panic before remembering that Lisa insisted on staying overnight.

‘Everything’s under control here,’ she tells me with a smile as I stagger into the kitchen. ‘Pancakes?’

‘You’re putting me to shame,’ I grumble, rubbing my eyes. ‘I forgot to set my alarm.’

She has her hair scraped back, her skin make-up-free and glowing. Despite spending the night on my sofa, she looks about twenty-five. She’s got no kids, she’s in love, she’s getting regular sex. I’m only ten per cent jealous.

‘Charlie took Ruby to school. We figured she’d be tired after such a late night. And Lena is reading to Minnie.’

‘Lena’s not supposed to be here today,’ I say, puzzled.