She sounds a touch bitter, and really, who can blame her? And who am I to talk to her about her own father anyway? I’m not exactly an expert on familial relationships, other than messing them up.
‘Fair enough. But as you say, he’s here now. It’s good that you’re giving him a chance.’
‘Part of that is just for Evan, to be honest. My mum was…is… well, she’s not great, in all kinds of ways. And I know she had a rough time as a child too, like my dad did – that’s how they met – and they really probably shouldn’t have had a kid of their own. When I got pregnant, my mum hit the roof. Called me every name under the sun and kicked me out of the house.’
The shock must show on my face. I don’t want to judge another woman, especially one whose shoes I have not walked in, but that sounds harsh.
‘She changed her mind the next day when she’d calmed down,’ Miranda adds, ‘which was pretty typical. I’ve never seen anyone with a temper like hers. But it was too late by then. I’d already decided that I had to go. I was having my own baby, and I needed to break that cycle, you know? I needed to get away, to start over and not have all of her issues hanging over us. I needed to make something fresh and good for Evan. And somehow, I ended up here, in the best place in the world, with the best people.’
She looks quite emotional, and I remind myself again of how lucky I actually was as a child. I never felt lucky, but I had so much. Stability, love, a life that I might have found suffocating but which also kept me safe. I couldn’t wait to get away from here, and this young woman is clearly still in awe of the fact that she found it at all.
Evan gets bored of hammering the ground and goes off to investigate a tool bag in the corner of the half-built room. Miranda seamlessly swoops him up into her arms before he can make contact with anything potentially dangerous and swings him around until he giggles. It’s impossible not to laugh along with him, and all three of us are in fits of amusement when Guy arrives. He’s holding a takeaway coffee cup from the café, and Miranda’s eyes meet mine. She gives me a little nod, acknowledging that I was right.
Evan starts to wriggle out of her arms, runs towards Guy, and yells: ‘Grandad! Bang, bang, fix!’, delivering a hefty blow to the knee cap as he speaks. Ouch.
Grandad resolutely stays upright and takes Evan’s hand as he walks towards us. The little boy is clearly delighted to have his play-friend back, the two of them unbearably sweet together. Miranda misses nothing, and I wonder if it makes her feel uneasy – seeing how much Evan adores him, while at the same time not feeling totally confident that he will stick around. Quite the tangled knot.
She looks from me to Guy and seems to come to a decision.
‘Jake’s asked me if I can do an extra few hours at the inn today while he’s away. I was going to say no, because James is working too and Evan can wreak havoc in the pub kitchen. Would you… would you mind looking after him for a bit for me?’
I see the swell of emotion in Guy’s face, and the way he tries to hide it. He’s trying not to show what a big deal it is, the fact that she’s trusting him like this. Miranda is also playing it low-key, going on to say it’s no problem if he’s busy, that she can ask someone else or say no to the work. It’s a weird joy, watching the two of them tiptoe around each other, both desperate not to put a foot wrong.
I suspect I’m feeling a bit emotional myself, probably because of my doctor’s appointment. Because of my upcoming scan. Because I’m jam-packed full of hormones and having to finally face up to it. This is real. It’s happening. I have a baby inside me, and that means I have something to lose. It’s bloody terrifying, and I feel on the verge of tears. Everything is heightened – the good, the bad, the scary.
Guy finally convinces Miranda that he is absolutely definitely not too busy to watch Evan, and Miranda finally stops making it clear that it doesn’t matter if he is. Evan himself looks on, not having a clue why the grown-ups are making everything socomplicated. Everyone looks at him instead, and it’s impossible not to smile. He’s a child – sweet, innocent, full of simple joy – and he overrides all the complicated nonsense that grown-ups let themselves get bogged down in.
‘Bang, bang, fix,’ he announces, with uncanny perception.
TWELVE
In the end, Guy comes with me for my scan a couple of weeks later. After weighing up all the options, it just seemed the simplest thing to do – other than going alone, which was sorely tempting.
I am nervous about it, and still not sure I believe it all, and I can’t face the thought of telling people until I know what’s happening. I know my dad will be thrilled, and Connie and Cally will be delighted, and all of that should feel nice – but it doesn’t. It feels like pressure. It feels like something could still go wrong, or even that those multiple pregnancy tests could have all been duds. It feels like my heart could still be broken, and carrying the weight of that is quite enough without adding in everybody else’s excited expectations. I was also painfully aware of what Ella had said, about it being difficult for my dad and Connie to visit the hospital.
I’m feeling tense about it myself as Guy drives Bettina out of Starshine and carefully eases us onto the A-road that leads into town. I close my eyes at every roundabout, and grimace when anybody overtakes us, and generally act like a bit of a wuss.
He knows the backstory, and he is driving with utmost care and attention, not overreacting to my overreactions. It doesn’thelp when we have to navigate a long stretch of speed bumps, and every time we slowly bounce over them, I feel like I’m going to pee myself.
‘I don’t think they really need our bladders to be this full,’ I say, after the final near-miss. ‘I think it’s just something invented by men to give them a laugh.’
‘Who knows? Don’t worry, we’re nearly there, and as soon as you’re done I’ll get you straight to the nearest loo. VIP escort.’
‘That’s the sexiest thing a man has ever said to me,’ I reply, squeezing my bits to try and prevent an impending leak. I only have to think the words ‘pelvic floor exercise’ for the relevant muscles to contract.
I’m quiet as we park up, taking in the various sights and sounds as we make our way inside. Women in all stages of pregnancy; men at all stages of pride through to terror; doctors, nurses, ambulances. I try not to let my mind drift towards Sandy, my baby sister, and the way she died. It doesn’t feel like the best of omens, and I’m wondering if I should ask to be transferred to a different hospital.
‘You’re building new memories,’ Guy says, taking hold of my hand as we walk towards the foyer. ‘New associations. Something terrible has happened everywhere, and something brilliant too. It’s just a place, a building. It isn’t intrinsically good or bad, it just is. And now we’re going to go in there, and meet your baby, and it’s going to be amazing. The start of an epic love.’
I flash a grateful smile at him and keep hold of his hand. He is right, I know he is. We register with the reception and are directed through to a small waiting room full of uncomfortable looking women. All of them have somebody with them – a partner, a mum, a friend – and I’m suddenly so glad I agreed to let him come. Without him by my side, I know I’d be feeling even more scared right now, even more weak.
He nods at me reassuringly, keeping tight hold of my hand, and I wonder if people assume we are a couple, that he is the father. Of course they do, I decide. Everything must look simple from the outside. A quick glance would show a slightly older-than-average mum and her partner, not the complex layers of connections and relationships that really exist. The actual father now being thousands of miles away in South Sudan, according to a message he sent me a few days earlier. Guy being a friend who only came into my life weeks ago. Me only recently having come home from a lifetime of globe-trotting. We are not what we appear, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I have never been a simple person, which has been both a blessing and a curse. I was never like my siblings, or my dad, never satisfied with the gentle rhythms of life in our sleepy corner of the world. Yet here I am, back in Starshine, facing a future that feels both rich and terrifying. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster, lurching from stable and settled to gut-churningly uncertain every few minutes.
‘You okay?’ Guy asks, distracting me from my thoughts.
‘Yes,’ I lie. ‘Just worried I might wee myself.’
