Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes (36 page)

“Enough of that, you too. When I want
to kiss your mother I will.” The moment had passed and, giggling at
his outraged look, Helen intertwined her fingers with his and led
him down the path that led back to her apartment.

Helen felt light, despite the weight of
the babies, as they walked back to her flat. Not only had they
found the perfect place to live; in a matter of days she would be
somewhere Daniel didn’t know, somewhere he couldn’t come and take
their babies away.

Chapter
Nine

Helen cursed as the suitcase wheel
caught on the door frame and flipped over.
How can clothes be so
damn heavy?
She pushed it back onto two wheels and tried to get
through the doorway again.

They had accepted the new apartment two
days ago and she was itching to to get moved in. Marcio had made
her promise, before he left for work that morning, to stay put and
not do anything until he got home. It had seemed harmless enough to
wheel the suitcase containing her day-to-day clothes round to the
apartment, as it was only a few streets away. Now she was starting
to think he had been right.
Damn him. And damn this stupid
suitcase for having a mind of its own.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

Startled at the sound, Helen looked up
from bitter contemplation of the offending suitcase and saw Daniel
at the bottom of the short flight of steps leading from the front
door to the pavement.

Aware of her flushed face and internal
ire, Helen cursed under her breath.
Great, that’s all I
need.

“I’ve already managed it down two
flights of stairs; I think I can handle it, thanks.” She tried to
fill her voice with as much indignant authority as she could
manage, aware as she was of the sweat patch between her breasts and
the tangle of her hair.

“You should be resting.” He stood
passively, regarding her. Helen couldn’t tell from his body
language whether he was amused or trying not to antagonise her. It
was unlike him not to have reached past and taken the case
away.

She leant against the door frame, glad
of the rest, and glared down at the man she had once intended to
marry. The steps leading down from her flat, which were previously
an annoyance, were now giving her a satisfying height advantage

“You are not in a position to tell me
what to do. You threw away that right when you tried to throw away
our babies.”

He looked calmly up at her. “They are
still my children, whatever stupid things I said in the shock of
the moment. I care what happens to them, whatever you may
think.”

Not trusting herself to respond, Helen
turned her back on Daniel and went back to getting the suitcase
through the door and down to the pavement. Luck favoured her and
the suitcase came obediently down the stairs, finishing neatly on
the path. She hoped Daniel would have left by the time she turned
back round, but she knew it was a vain hope.

He stood mutely but resolutely blocking
the path, forcing her to talk to him.

“Please move.” She was about to explain
that she was taking things to her new apartment, but she had no
intention of letting him know her new address.

He stood to one side, again giving the
impression of trying to appease her.

“Are you going to the station? Can I at
least wheel the case there for you?”

His voice was warm now. It confused
Helen, jarring against her memories of his anger the night she
announced her pregnancy. She concentrated on those memories and
forced herself not recall earlier, happier, times.

“Surely you have some business meeting
that requires your urgent attendance, something more important to
do?” Helen was pleased at the firmness of her voice. She turned
away from him and began to wheel the suitcase down the street.

“There is nothing more important than
this.”

Something in Daniel’s voice made Helen
look back sharply. There was veracity in his words that surprised
her. His face radiated sincerity. She began to wonder if he did
really care about the welfare of their children; about her.

Looking at him properly now, it was
hard to forget the two years they had lived together; that she had
intended to walk with him up the aisle as his wife.

As if detecting the tiny glimmer of
concession, Daniel pressed home his advantage. He reached forward
and gently took the suitcase handle from her grasp.

The case
was
heavy. Only
stubbornness had stopped Helen giving up at the first flight of
stairs. The thought of wheeling it for the best part of a mile
wasn’t appealing, but neither was the prospect of getting it back
up the stairs.

Why not let the man be helpful? It is
the least he can do. Besides, he’ll have to find out our new
address eventually, he is the biological father even if I want
nothing to do with him.

They walked in silence, Helen slightly
ahead on the pretence of showing the way, Daniel following behind
in an abnormally submissive position, trundling her suitcase along
behind him. It kept bouncing on the pavement and turning on its
wheels. Helen could hear Daniel cursing under his breath, trying
not to lose his temper.

She smiled viciously at the sound, but
her mind churned with emotions. It felt like a betrayal to Marcio
to be even walking with Daniel. At the same time, however, it was
surely better for the twins if she could at least be in the same
street as the man without wanting to scream obscenities or slap
him.

It was a fifteen minute walk to the
apartment, but it felt like an hour. Helen’s neck was prickling
with the sense of Daniel just behind her. It felt awkward walking
in silence, but there really wasn’t anything to say. She suspected
Daniel had intended to talk en-route, but Helen kept up a brisk
pace, despite the bump, so that all his attention was focussed on
not losing control of the suitcase.

When they reached the new apartment,
Helen stopped several doors down from her new front door and
reached out her hand for the suitcase.

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to invite me in?” Daniel
was flushed from the walk and panting slightly.

“No.” Helen’s response was curt. She
kept her face expressionless despite the tumult of emotion churning
her stomach.

Daniel looked at her and seemed to
weigh his options. He seemed to come to some decision in his mind.
Helen sensed he was reluctant to leave, but knew to quit when he
was ahead.

“Well, it was lovely to see you. You
look great. How many weeks left now?”

“Four.”

“Okay. Well, you will tell me, when
they arrive, won’t you?”

Helen considered his request. She had
no such intention, not right away. The last thing the twins needed
was any mixed messages over who Daddy was. There was no confusion
in her mind. Still, Daniel wasn’t a man she would choose to cross
face to face, not if it wasn’t necessary.

“Of course.” Well, she would tell him
eventually. Time enough to worry about when, after the babies
arrived.

She stood motionless while Daniel
hovered, then turned to walk away. She watched his retreating form
until he was out of sight, not wanting him to see that she was
standing outside the wrong door.

He turned once, at the end of the
street, and raised his hand in greeting. Helen shivered, as if a
cloud had passed over the sun, plunging the street into sudden
darkness.

Shaking off the thought, she wheeled
the case the extra few yards to her new home, and gratefully went
inside.

Chapter
Ten

“Marci, Marci.
Marcio
! Wake
up!”

Marcio rolled over and looked blearily
for the bedside clock. It was in the wrong place. Confused, he
looked around and saw it on the other side of the bed. They’d only
been in the apartment a week and he still hadn’t got used to where
everything was. The green numbers swam before his sleep-laden eyes
before coming into focus. 4am. He rolled back to look at Helen. She
was sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.

“Wha?” he managed. Then something
sparked in his sleepy brain. “You’re dressed.”

“Yes, I’m dressed, and you need to be
too. It’s time.”

The words
it’s time
finally
galvanised Marcio into action. He was out of bed and into his
jeans, his heart racing. “How long have you been up?” His voice was
urgent. Helen looked so awake.

“An hour or so. The contractions were
light to begin with; I didn’t want to wake you before I needed to.
You’re going to need as much sleep as you can get. But Rachel said
to go to hospital when I couldn’t stand the pain any more, and I
think that time has come.”

The last word stretched out into a howl
of pain, as Helen braced herself against the bed, breathing hard.
Through sheer will she managed to bring it under control, breathing
through the pain in a way that Marcio could only marvel at. Women
were amazing.

Thankfully the new apartment had permit
parking, so the car was just outside on the road. Helping Helen out
the door, Marcio felt the need for some deep breaths himself. He
ran back in for her bag, which sat waiting by the door. It was a
tiny particle of order amidst the chaos. The flat was still in
upheaval from the move, and much of their stuff hadn’t even been
moved in, let alone unpacked.

“I can’t believe you’re in labour,” he
panted, after running back to help her into the car. “The babies
aren’t due for three weeks. We’re still moving house!”

“Rachel said twins sometimes come
early.”

“I can’t believe you’re so calm.”

“I think it’s the hormones. There has
to be some upside to all this agony.” She gritted her teeth as
another surge of pain ripped through her. She could think of
nothing for the next thirty seconds until the contraction
subsided.

Thankfully even London roads were quiet
at 4.30am and they made it to the hospital in record time. There
was no need to explain to the girl on the desk why they were there.
Helen was sobbing with pain by the time they arrived. Managing
contractions in the bathroom was one thing, but swaying on all
fours in the back of a moving car was something entirely
different.

They were led immediately to a private
room, where the midwife hooked Helen up to a monitor to measure the
babies’ heart-rates. Helen had known she would be under
consultant-care, and was resigned to being tethered to a machine.
The equipment she was more interested in was the one dispensing gas
and air, which was positioned behind the bed. Gesturing at the
mask, she no longer even had the words to speak. The midwife took
her blood pressure and recited instructions on how to use the unit.
Helen heard only noise, as if she were in a giant fish tank and
everyone else was on the outside.

She knew what to do from the antenatal
class, and as soon as the midwife passed her the mask, she held it
to her face and breathed deeply. Two more breaths and some of the
tension in her eased, as she felt herself regain control.

The sense of being underwater lifted
slightly and Helen became aware of Marcio talking quietly with the
midwife. He had calmed down as soon as they arrived and he could
pass responsibility to the medical staff. His role now was to
fetch, carry, rub, soothe and take abuse. Somewhere in the back of
his mind, the writer was taking notes, revelling in the extremity
of the experience. Another wry voice was thinking,
at least she
can’t accuse me of getting her into this mess
.

Time passed, marked with numbers. So
many centimetres dilated, so many hours. Because Helen was only 37
weeks pregnant, she wasn’t permitted pethadine; the babies were
likely to be too small to cope with the drug in their bloodstream.
In the end, after several hours on gas and air, Helen agreed to an
epidural. It was strange to her that, once the contractions had
started, part of her was reluctant to lose all sensation to the
numbness of the drug. All her protestations that she didn’t want to
feel a thing evaporated with the strange exhilarating power of the
physical experience, and the strength she found within herself to
cope with it.

However, once the epidural began to
take effect and the stillness spread through her tired muscles, all
doubt evaporated. She had experienced labour. Okay she wasn’t going
to experience the need to push, but rather would need to judge when
by the spikes on the graph paper. On the plus side she was able now
to focus on Marcio, to share the moment with him.

In her secret thoughts Helen had
wondered whether it would matter, here at the crux, that Marcio
wasn’t the twins’ father. She asked herself the question now.

It doesn’t
.
My love for him
has fused somehow with my love for the twins.
Together we
are a unit, excluding Daniel and any part he might have played in
the distant past.

Helen hadn’t heard from him since he
had wheeled her suitcase to the apartment the week before, and she
had no intention of contacting him immediately to tell him about
the birth. Time enough for that. Looking into Marcio’s tired but
elated face she thought,
this is my family now
.

Eventually the number reached the magic
ten, and her body was ready to move into the next stage. Helen
couldn’t understand why she was so exhausted, even though she had
been lying still for the last few hours.

“Your body is still having
contractions,” the midwife explained gently, “you just can’t feel
them. We’re going to turn down the epidural now, so you can feel
more when to push. Hopefully by the time the twins are ready to
come out you’ll have regained some sensation.”

Helen wasn’t sure how she felt about
that. It was one thing to deal with unavoidable pain, another thing
entirely to have someone decide it was time to feel it again.