Being Emily (12 page)

CHRIST KNOWS WHAT
he must of been thinking. I was too much in shock to take in the look he gied me, the glance round the manky room. Deid flies stuck to the bottom of the curtains, oose clumped in corners of the room, Amrik, dishevelled and hauf-dressed.

Amrik had phoned the doctor when I started shaking and got the chills. I was so out of it I hardly registered what he was daeing but afterwards, when I remembered, I was amazed at how calm and insistent he was.

No we can’t come in – she needs a doctor, here, now. It is an
emergency
.

It was like Jas, the way Jas would of done it, no like slow, casual Amrik at all. The one time I saw a brotherly resemblance between them.

Then, as he was haunding back my phone, the pain suddenly cracking my belly in two. Earlier I’d thought I was getting a bad cramp, noo I felt as if someone was tearing my insides out with a Hoover. I tried tae go to the bathroom and my legs wouldnae support me. Amrik put his airm round my waist and we both went.

I was too far gone tae be embarrassed at the flood of red all over my pants, the flair, the toilet seat. Even then, I was still thinking it was some terrible period, when a horrible big disgusting clot came out and there, swimming in a sea of gunk and blood and mess, was something that looked like a curled up wee prawn.

Our baby.

The nurse was dead nice in a matter-of-fact kind of way. Temperature taken, chart checked.

Are you in any pain, dear?
Then away tae someone mair in need of attention. I didnae want attention. Just left alane.

The emergency doctor had wheeched me aff tae hospital to get checked up.
Best make sure it’s all away
, he said.

I lay on the bed for what felt like ages till a young doctor, her fair hair tied in a pony tail, came and sat on the chair beside me.

Everything seems fine
, she said.
No retained products
.

What?

Sometimes after a miscarriage little bits of the placenta can stay
inside, cause an infection. Looks fine in your case, though
.

Oh
.

I’ll just check a few details, then you can go home as soon as you
feel up to moving. Now, when was your last period?

I’m no sure. They’re not that regular.

Looked as if it was about eight weeks. Does that seem right?

Probably. I usually have them every four weeks but sometimes it’s
six weeks or a couple of months
.

That’s a pain, isn’t it? Mine are like clockwork
.

I always know it’s about to start when the cramps come. That’s
what I thought was happening at first then it got so bad I couldnae
speak
.

So you weren’t planning a pregnancy?

No. I’d nae idea I was.

What contraception were you using?

Condoms.

Any time your partner didn’t use them?

No
.

D’you ever notice one splitting?

No
.

I know this has been a shock – not even knowing you were pregnant
– but once you’ve had time to get over it, it’s probably for the
best
.

I stared at her.

I mean if you weren’t planning the baby
. She looked at my notes.
I see you’re a student. What’re you studying?

Art. First year at Art School
.

That is so cool. I wish I was creative
.

She scribbled something on the form, then stood up.

There’s a counsellor in the hospital who talks to couples who’ve
had a miscarriage. You could go along with your boyfriend if you like
.

No. Thanks
.

Well, if you feel like it later, you can come back. I’m Doctor
Harrison. Trudi. Just give me a ring if you need to
.

I thought he’d be waiting for me. Sitting there on a plastic seat, ready to put his airms round me, take me hame, wherever that was.

But he wasnae.

The nurse at the reception area saw me come out, look round.

Fiona?

I nodded.

Your friend said he had to go – he’ll call you later
.

Thanks
.

He had to go.

Oh of course he did, his life is so full. Mibbe he had a rehearsal or a gig, or mibbe there was some wonderful tune that came intae his heid he just had to get out, inspired by being in a grotty bathroom with a woman screaming and pouring out blood. Perhaps the sight of his unborn child moved him that much he had to write a raga or a saga or whatever about it.

Or mibbe he just didnae care enough tae stay and wait for me.

I’d never felt so alone. When my mammy died, when my daddy set fire to the hoose, no then. There was always someone else to share the pain; the twins, Patrick, my da. Even when I thought they didnae understaund how I was feeling, at least someone else had experienced the same thing. But me and Amrik were the only folk who’d experienced this, except for a locum doctor who probably thought we were a couple of pathetic irresponsible tramps. Some silly lassie that never even knew she was pregnant till she tossed out the remains of her baby in a manky shared toilet in a grotty shared flat. I sat on the bed in my wee room, put my haunds over my eyes trying to block out the image of that mess.

I never tellt my da or the twins. Just said I wasnae feeling well and wanted to lie doon. I’d nae idea what time it was
or how long I’d been lying there when Mona knocked on the door and asked if I wanted a cuppa tea.

Thanks
.

She squeezed in the tiny space and set it doon on the bedside table.
I broke open the chocolate gingers since they’re your
favourite
.

Ta
.

Hey what’s up, sis? You look terrible
.

I looked beyond the wall of make-up, the elaborate hairstyle, the short skirt and pierced belly button, and seen my wee sister who was genuinely worried aboot me. For a split second I nearly broke doon and tellt her everything, but something stopped me.

I’m all right. Must be some bug. I’ll be fine if I have a rest
.

Well, let me know if you need anything. But shout loud. We’re
watching ‘Tom and Jerry’
.

I drifted in and out of sleep as the sounds of cartoon music and the twins and Declan laughing floated through the thin walls. When my phone rang I’d lost all sense of time but the clock said it was 10.30 at night. Twelve hours since I’d been discharged.

Hi
, Amrik said.
Are you at home now?

Aye
.

How are you feeling?

If you’d bothered to wait for me, you’d know
.

They’d no idea how long you would be and they wouldn’t let me
on the ward to see you. I thought it was pointless to hang around
.

Oh
.

Silence.

D’you want to come over? Or should I come round?

Amrik had never been tae the house. Mibbe this was his way of showing it was important.

It’s late
.

I was at a gig
.

Right
.

I’ll come round if you want
.

Voice like honey and cigarettes.

No, I need to sleep now
.

Cool. Talk to you tomorrow
.

A night of tossing and turning, getting up to change my towel, soaked through with the reddest blood I’d ever seen. Fairytale blood like Snow White’s pricked finger, but a flood of it. They said at the hospital I would bleed a little. Normal. No need to worry unless it continued for more than a few days.

I always thought medical folk used scientific words, precise delineations.

What’s ‘a little’ blood?

What’s ‘normal’?

What’s ‘a few’ days? Two? Three? Six?

You could bleed tae death and be carted aff, your dying words,
It was only a little blood for a few days. I thought it was
normal
.

I rose early the next morning and started tae clean. First my room, folding up the camp bed and hoovering every inch of the flair, washing the windaes, clearing all the dust that had accumulated while I lived my nomadic existence between here and Amrik’s room. I got a binbag and flung in wads of auld papers and school stuff, never stopped till the place was shining. Then I done the rest of the house, bleaching and scouring obsessively.

When I was finished I stood in the shower for ages, letting the water cascade over my heid, my body, every part of me.
I could feel the blood flow between my legs and when I looked doon there was a pinky trail in the bottom of the shower.

The pain started for real the next day. No as bad as the miscarriage but a dull throb and a feeling of unreality, as though my heid was stuffed with cotton wool. I thought I must of overdone it with the cleaning and lay on my bed in the room that now looked like a nun’s cell, held a hot water bottle to my middle. I grew too hot, then started to shiver. I don’t know how long I lay there afore Mona tapped on the door, pushed it open slightly.

Tea?

No thanks
.

She moved a few steps intae the room, knelt doon and put her haund on my heid.
Hey. You’re burning up. Whit’s wrang?

Dunno
.

D’you want me to phone the doctor?

No. I’ll get a cab
.

I tried tae stand up. The room swam.

The young doctor with the fair hair was on duty again.

Sorry
, she said.

What?

You know I said it was very unusual for an infection to develop
afterwards. Well you were one of the unlucky ones
.

Oh
.

We’re going to do a D&C just to be on the safe side
.

What’s that?

Don’t worry, it’s totally routine. A tiny scrape to make sure everything’s
away. And we’ll put you on intravenous antibiotics till you
settle down, then continue with an oral course. You’ll be fit as a flea
in a few days
.

Do I have to stay here?

Till your temperature is down and you’re stable. You’ll probably
get out later today
.

Dreams of dead babies, flying through a grey fog. Bits of babies – airms and legs and heids all floating round by themselves, looking for the lost parts. When I was wee they used tae tell us about Limbo, that place between Heaven and Hell that the deid babies went, the ones who died afore they could be baptised, the ones that never got properly born. I didnae understaund what an unborn child was.

No one talked about miscarriages then. Did Mammy ever have a miscarriage? The gaps between us, five year between me and Patrick, four between me and the twins, then the big space afore the last … were they planned, or were there other babies inbetween that never made it through? The booklet they gied me at the hospital says it’s important tae talk but who dae I talk to. The twins? My da? Mammy’s the only one who could of understood what happened and, though I think of her every day, she feels further away than ever.

Amrik’s the one I should talk with. The booklet says no tae underestimate the father’s feelings, how some men are really traumatised but cannae face it, cannae talk about it.

Somehow I don’t think Amrik is traumatised. If he feels anything it’s relief. I’ve seen him three times since I came out the hospital. He’s just the same as he ever was; there’s nae special softness in his voice, he doesnae take my airm in a way that shows any recognition of what’s happened. They said nae sex for a month in case of infection, so we went to the movies. Some French film about terrorists blowing up a factory. Then a walk in the park. One night he was playing and I sat in the audience, listening to perfect, beautiful,
poignant notes emerge fae his sitar. Melancholy and uplifting at the same time. It’s amazing how he puts so much heart intae it. Mibbe that’s why he has nae heart left over for anything else.

The month was up but I hadnae said anything cause I was still confused about how I felt. But sitting next tae him at the pictures, his elbow on the armrest between us, I felt closer tae Amrik than I had for ages. It was as if something had been washed clean between us in the time of abstinence. There was an innocence about Amrik when he watched a movie that was never there any other time; he opened hissel like a wean lost in play.

Back at his flat, in the silence, bare boards and uncurtained windaes, freezing air. We dived beneath the bedcovers, grabbed each other. When Amrik reached for the pack of condoms on the table, I whispered,
It’s cool
and pulled him back intae the warmth.

After, lying with his haunds linked behind his heid he said,
You sure the timing’s okay?

Aye
.

Don’t want any more accidents
.

I’m gonnae go on the pill anyway. Saves all that hassle
.

Oh?

Yeah, got an appointment tomorrow actually
.

He pulled on his jeans and jumper, his haunds closed round the neck of his sitar.

Cool
.

It was a lie, of course. So big a lie that afterwards I was amazed he seemed to believe me. I’ve never been good at lying, always stammer or look shifty. When we were wee and one of us
had done something bad, I was the one the grown ups knew would tell them the truth, no because I’d clype, but because they could tell right away if I was lying. Mibbe he didnae believe me, just heard what he wanted to hear. That way he could satisfy hissel it wasnae his responsibility if anything went wrang.

It wasnae planned. I hadnae went round with the idea that I’d trick him intae getting me pregnant, just somehow that night the words came out. I had tae take a chance, see if it could happen again. It wasnae logical or rational. Like Doctor Trudi had said, really I was lucky. I was in nae position to bring a baby intae the world, especially wi a father who didnae want it, but somehow, my body couldnae bear no being pregnant. I walked about feeling empty, no emotional emptiness, but literal emptiness. Even though I’d never known I was pregnant in the first place, I felt as if I was missing something, that only a baby inside me would fill the awful gap.