“There’s nothing I want more,” I murmur, staring at the floor.
Vance pats me on my shoulder, and I realise that he understood me.
We remain silent and we wait for hours. It’s been quite a while after sunset when Carly comes out and announces. “They’ll perform a Caesarean section, she’s going to the operating theatre any minute.”
The words ‘Caesarean section’ make me panic. “Operating theatre? Is there a problem?”
She shakes her head. “The baby is in position and the contractions are close together, but the cervix is not delating enough. They broke her waters and, despite theiv, it won’t go beyond five centimetres. The doctor decided to proceed with the surgery, but he didn’t look worried.”
“How long has she been in labour?”
“This morning, she wanted me to go for a manicure with her, and that’s when the pain started. When we got back home, shortly after 11 a.m., the contractions became more and more intense and close together, so we took her to the hospital. After the examination, they admitted her, because the labour had started. I went into the delivery room with her two hours ago, but nothing happened. I’ll go back to Jemma now, I’m sure they’re ready for the surgery,” she says, looking at her watch. Then she adds: “I’m glad you’re here, Ashford.”
89
Jemma’s Version
I know that I’ll die. A human being can’t survive all this pain.
The midwife doesn’t seem to agree. “All right, from now on, try to push whenever you feel a contraction, okay?”
To be honest, I’m no longer able to distinguish when I feel a contraction from when I don’t. “I caaan’t.”
I don’t know how long I’ve been like this, with my feet in the stirrups and spread legs, without making any progress.
I’m exhausted.
The last thing I needed was to know that Ashford is here. Yes, at a certain point, a nurse approached my mother saying that a certain Ashford Parker had arrived, and claimed to be the father.
I looked at my mother through tears and just shook my head to say ‘no’, before another contraction made me cry out in pain.
Now the doctor announces: “The dilation won’t go beyond five centimetres, and the contractions are already too close together. Prepare the operating theatre, we’ll do a Caesarean section.”
My mother goes out to inform Dad and, when she comes back, she immediately understands what I want to know. “Yes, Ashford is outside with Dad.”
“He shouldn’t be here.”
She holds my hand while the midwife pushes the wheeled stretcher towards the operating theatre. “Don’t think about it now. Just go and make me a grandma.”
*
It’s incredible. I look at my baby in the hospital cot next to my bed, and I’m mesmerised. He’s perfect. I’m knackered, but the more I look at him, the more I think I would do it again.
When I told the nurse, she replied: “We’ll talk about it when the anaesthetic wears off.”
“Hello, Mummy.” It’s Cécile, who’s just outside the door. “Can I come in?”
I nod. I feel guilty about her. She was amazing with me, yet I disappeared without saying a word. I was so upset, so mad at Ashford and so disgusted by everything and everyone, that I left her behind with my past.
“I would have liked to call you a thousand times, Cécile. But I couldn’t.”
She stops me by raising a hand. “I know everything. You don’t owe me any excuses.” She looks down into the cot, curious. “Thank God he takes after you.”
“You can’t even imagine the pain. At times, I thought I was dying.”
“That’s impossible. I saw you survive worse things,” she replies. “Delphina, to name one.”
“Please, don’t remind me of her.”
