Dream a Little Dream (26 page)

‘Oh darling …’ I muster, walking to her and joining her on the floor.

She bites her lip and glimpses across at me, her face ashen with confusion.

‘It’s gone. Just like that,’ she says, her eyes wide and unblinking.

‘Are you sure?’

She nods.

‘Shouldn’t we go to the doctors, though?’

‘Why?’

‘Just to check?’

‘It’s definitely gone,’ she says slowly and adamantly. ‘I’m empty. Deflated.’

I nod, trying to understand what she’s going through, knowing that all I can really do for her right now is to be there and listen.

‘It was horrible.’ She screws up her face at the thought of it. ‘I saw my baby,’ she says quietly, wanting to voice the memory of the sight feared by so many. ‘It looked sort of like a baby too. I wasn’t expecting that – I thought it would still be a gloopy lump of cells and tissue – but that was him or her. Our little creation. The little helpless being I’ve been so afraid of.’

‘What did you do with … ?’ I ask, not knowing what to call her lost baby. ‘The doctor might want to see what … you know.’

‘I flushed it down the loo …’ Pause. Realization. ‘I flushed my baby down the loo.’

‘Don’t think of it like that.’

‘I did though. I was in shock. I wiped and it was all there and – ’

Looking down at the hands she’s held up, she stops herself. Not because it’s gory and information she’d be
embarrassed to share – but because the image is clearly reforming before her.

The memory too rancid and cruel to forget so quickly.

She bites down hard on her bottom lip to rein herself back to reality, to regain control. When she talks again she is calm. ‘I sat and stared at it for ages, unsure what to do – telling myself, blindly hoping, that it might not be what I knew it was. What I could see it was.’

I can feel my heart in my chest as I listen, hating feeling so inept and clumsy in my friendship – wishing I could take away the distress she must be feeling but working her hardest to suppress.

‘I hate calling it an it,’ she muses, continuing as though in conversation with herself. ‘There would’ve been a heartbeat by now, you know – it was a living thing already. It wasn’t an it.’

‘It was your baby.’

‘Yeah …’ she says sadly. ‘It was.’

She takes a deep breath before moving to lie across the floor in a foetal position, using my lap as her pillow. I can’t help but run my fingers through her hair. In some feeble way I hope the soft touch might give her some comfort, but really I know it’s more of an action for myself – to make me feel like I’m actually
doing
something to help lessen her burden, to console her and take the pain away.

She looks different. Older. Silently broken. Nothing like the strong and feisty ladette I’ve grown up with over the last decade.

‘I knew it was coming,’ she says, her quiet voice wavering just a sliver of a fraction. ‘I woke up this morning and something didn’t feel right. It was my boobs. My boobs told me
this would happen. As soon as I found out I was pregnant they turned into these huge squidgy mounds of flesh – I couldn’t stop touching them. They weren’t hard or painful, they were just fuller and different. It blew my mind that my body was intuitively reacting to my growing baby so quickly. Today when I woke up, they were back to normal.’ She pauses. ‘It was already happening. I was already losing my baby. I’ve had cramps too – but I’d read up. Mild cramps are normal … the thing is, where do you draw the line between mild cramps and cramps? It’s all so ambiguous.’

‘I bet.’

‘I’ve been on Google a lot,’ she half laughs. ‘ And on every one of the pregnancy apps Josh made me download to keep us posted on our little one’s growth and development. Unsurprisingly none of them really cover this outcome.’

‘Probably don’t want to worry people unnecessarily.’

‘Yeah. Bit morbid.’

‘Yeah,’ I agree.

Pause.

‘I should probably delete them now.’

‘Have you spoken to Josh?’ I ask. It seems like an appropriate time to bring him up, seeing as she’s mentioned him.

‘I can’t …’ she says flatly, her face turning into my thighs. I wonder if she’s crying.

‘Why not?’ I ask softly.

‘I’m scared to. This little being was the start of something crazy and new for us. It cemented us together and gave us a joint purpose, forcing us to stop hiding what was happening between us, make huge decisions and act. It made it all real. What do we have now?’

‘You still have each other.’

‘Do we?’ she squeaks.

‘He’s your best friend.’

‘But I failed him. I failed us. I failed our baby.’

‘Oh darling, no you didn’t.’

‘I did. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it. I knew I was going to fuck it up.’

The disappointment in her voice is heartbreaking.

‘This isn’t your fault, my love.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No.’

‘That’s debatable,’ she sighs. ‘It doesn’t feel that way.’

‘I know, but you mustn’t think like that. It won’t help,’ I sigh. ‘How do you feel? Physically. Are you in any pain?’

‘It’s like the worst period ever, but the pain barely resonates. It’s nothing in comparison to the pain in my heart,’ she says, her hand moving from her tummy up to rub her chest. ‘I’m surprised I feel like this. I didn’t know I wanted a baby so badly.’

‘I don’t think any of us know what we really want until we’re put in a situation or have something snatched away from us. Maybe life is more about reacting rather than acting …’

‘Deep.’

‘I’m quite the philosopher,’ I reply.

Silence takes over then. I think for a long while about what I could say to make her feel better, or to lighten the mood – but I come up with nothing. My brain fails me and instead I become conscious of my thinking and can only think about me thinking.

I’m useless. She should’ve phoned someone else.

‘Do you think I deserved this?’ she utters suddenly, breaking into my pathetic musings.

‘How could you possibly?’ I ask, trying to understand her thought pattern.

‘I worried. Thought I didn’t want it and worried about how I’d cope. I should’ve embraced it straight away.’

‘I think a lot of women probably have the same fear but don’t say it. I bet it’s quite a taboo to have a moment of panic … although it seems standard for men to have a wobble.’

‘You don’t think I wished it upon myself, then? That somehow I made it happen? That I’m to blame?’ she asks, all the while her tone steady and measured.

‘No, darling,’ I reply with a punch in my voice, letting her know that in no way do I think she deserves to be put through this torture. ‘No, I don’t.’

I hold on to her a little tighter, wishing I could take away the thoughts that’ll haunt her for as long as she allows them to. Thoughts that are natural, heartbreaking and unjust.

My poor friend.

I’m lying in Carly’s bed a few hours later when the bedroom door opens and I see Josh stopping to catch his breath in the doorway, before walking into the dark room.

‘Baby?’ he whispers.

‘Josh?’ she whimpers, not budging from her balled position in bed.

‘Come here,’ he breathes, going to her.

His strong arms find their way around her body, clutching on to her tightly in his strong embrace.

The bed shakes with their joint sobs.

Their joint loss.

Slowly, I manoeuvre myself from the bed and their private moment, and leave the room unnoticed.

I go to my own bed and weep for them.

I feel groggy when I wake up a few hours later, unable to open my eyes thanks to my throbbing headache. It takes a few seconds for this uncomfortable feeling to lift before the events of last night painfully creep in.

Oh shit.

My poor friend.

For a moment I imagine that it was all just a dream – or a nightmare. God knows I’m used to those being majorly fucked up at the moment. Although my heart isn’t up to thinking about my nightly escapades with my imaginary lover. Instead it’s with the couple next door who’ve had their own hearts ripped out and trampled on unfairly.

Oh life, what the hell are you playing at?

I drag myself from my bed and sneak into the bathroom, getting ready for work quickly and quietly – wanting to get out of the flat without disturbing Carly or Josh, who could probably do with a few more hours’ sleep. I can’t imagine how confused and hurt they will be feeling when they wake up, I can’t even begin to imagine their heartache.

My phone rings and vibrates across my bedside table, and I run to get it before it wakes the others.

It’s Natalia.

‘Sar?’ she sniffs.

‘Hey …’ I whisper.

‘Has she?’

‘Yeah,’ I sigh.

‘Oh, fuck.’

‘It’s been awful.’

‘Our poor little lamb,’ she chokes, beginning to sob.

‘How did you know?’

‘She left me a voicemail. I was out with my bosses and forgot to listen to it when I got in.’

‘Oh …’ I groan, thinking back to the horrendous voicemail Carly had left me.

‘I should’ve listened to it.’

‘Nat, you weren’t to know,’ I say, sitting on my bed, hating that she’s feeling awful and wishing I’d have called her. If Nat had seen us both try to reach her she’d have known something was up.

‘I should’ve been there.’

‘Don’t beat yourself up, it wouldn’t have made a difference.’

‘I know, but …’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I could’ve just hugged her.’

I listen as more sobs escape and feel helpless.

‘How is she?’

‘She’s been better. Josh is here now and I think that’ll help.’

‘How’s he?’

‘The same.’

‘Fuck.’

We sit in silence for a moment, both wrapped up in our own thoughts. Unable to put into words how we feel about the situation and finding it impossible to verbalize our sorrow for our friends’ heartbreak.

‘I love you,’ Natalia eventually says.

‘I love you, too,’ I whisper.

‘I’ll call you later.’

‘Okay, love,’ I say, putting down the phone before sitting there and staring at the blank screen.

Taking a deep breath, I scribble out a note for Carly and Josh, telling them I love them, and then leave it on the kitchen worktop before tiptoeing out of the front door, breathing out a sigh as I walk away from our home and make my way to the station.

My phone vibrates in my pocket – I grab it and see it’s my brother.

‘Max,’ I croak, picking up the phone, surprised to hear how awful I sound now that I’ve spoken above a whisper for the first time today – the emotion of last night gripping my throat so tightly that my voice is on lockdown.

‘Morning, Aunty Sarah,’ he yells gaily, his voice booming down the phone line.

‘Ouch,’ I moan, the noise bashing against my aching head. ‘Morning to you, too.’

I hear a snigger on the line.

‘Wait! What?’ I scream stopping on the pavement, suddenly hearing what he’s said. ‘The baby’s here?’

‘Yes, little Mavis Rose is here. She arrived about twenty minutes ago,’ he says, choking up.

‘Oh my God!’ I scream, continuing on my walk to the Underground. Even though we’ve all been waiting for the little one’s arrival for the past nine months, I can’t help but feel shocked that the day’s actually arrived. ‘I love the name! What’s she like?’

‘She’s so tiny and beautiful,’ he gushes.

‘Who does she look like, you or Andrea?’

‘Dad actually.’

‘Dad?’ I scoff.

‘A pretty version,’ he states, his voice telling me he’s wearing a ridiculously goofy new-dad grin. ‘I’m in awe of her. She’s perfect.’

‘So you’re already wrapped around her little finger?’

‘Happily so,’ he laughs.

‘And how’s Andrea? How was it all?’

‘I can’t even tell you how amazing she was. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Did you watch, then?’

‘Of course I did. It was the craziest sight I’ve ever seen – I still can’t get my head around it,’ he says in a high-pitched voice.

I can’t help but laugh at the thought of my brother witnessing his child being brought into the world. He’s always been so squeamish, so I’m surprised to hear he hadn’t fainted and stayed horizontal while Andrea did all the hard work.

‘Have you told Mum and Dad yet?’

‘Thought I’d call you first – otherwise Mum would’ve put Dad on and called you herself.’

‘Ha! I’ve no doubt she would,’ I laugh, a tear streaming down my face as I think of their reactions when they hear the news that they’ve been made grandparents overnight. ‘Are you okay though?’

‘Yes. Better than yes.’

‘When can I come meet her?’ I ask.

‘As soon as you like. We’ll be here for the rest of the day, at least,’ he says. ‘I’d better go call them now, but, Sarah, life is so fucking incredible.’

‘It is,’ I say, my voice catching in my throat as I say it.

I’m outside The Barge Café by the time Max hangs up. I stop and sit on one of their benches as a whirlwind of emotions gets the better of me. I weep a mixture of happy and sad tears. Happy ones for my brother and Andrea for the safe arrival of Mavis Rose and the life they’ve started together, and sad ones for my gorgeous friends who’ve had their new life snatched away from them. The two scenarios are worlds apart, and I can’t help but feel awful for them happening so close together. When I feel happy for Max, I see the look of anguish on Carly’s face and hear the sound of the gut-wrenching duet of sobs that leaked through the walls of her bedroom throughout the night.

Unable to stop myself, I bury my face in my arms and let a tirade of tears fall, not caring that I might draw attention to myself, not even thinking about passers-by.

I’m full on sobbing when I feel a hand on my shoulder and an arm reach around, pulling me into an embrace.

It’s only when I smell the familiar scent of Issey Miyake that I realize it’s Dan.

I instantly feel myself stiffen.

‘Sorry,’ I sniff, unable to stop my sobs or steady my breathing, as I try to pull away and wipe the tears from my face.

‘Shh,’ he says, pulling me tighter into him so that my head is on his chest.

I don’t fight to wriggle free from the hold that I once knew so well; instead I take warmth from it, and feel myself slowly melting into it, letting him comfort me.

‘You okay?’ he whispers, once my breathing has slowed down.

I exhale in reply, and break away from him so that my body is no longer against his, although I let him take hold of my hands and cradle them.

‘I’ve heard,’ he says quietly, his blue eyes pained. ‘Josh phoned me last night when he was on his way back – think he needed someone to talk to while he was driving, to keep him calm.’

‘You spoke the whole way?’ I sniff, rubbing my nose with the back of my hand.

‘We got cut off a few times,’ he shrugs, pulling a tissue out of the pocket of his hoodie and handing it to me.

‘Thanks. You’re not on your way to work?’ I ask, noticing his jogging bottoms and trainers.

‘No. Didn’t really feel up to it today … thought I’d go for a run instead.’

‘Right,’ I nod.

He lets out a big sigh and readjusts his beanie hat with one hand, the other grabbing hold of mine again.

‘Poor Carly and Josh,’ I mumble, my thoughts staying with them.

‘How were they last night?’

‘Awful. I feel so bad for them,’ I say, shaking my head at the memory. ‘I just wish I could make it all disappear for them. Yes. Okay. We all knew they were going to have a struggle on their hands and that it wasn’t exactly the picture perfect set-up – but they would’ve made it work. I know they would’ve.’

‘He wasn’t at his parents last night,’ Dan says, biting his lip, wanting to tell me whatever he knows, but feeling guilty for doing so.

‘Where was he, then?’

‘At her parents’ house, asking for permission to marry her,’ he says sadly.

‘Shit,’ I say, holding back a fresh stream of tears.

‘Yeah. How’s that for a come-down of emotions.’

‘Imagine him driving home, thinking he was going to, and then …’ I say, unable to finish the sentence, weeping at the thought of our cuddly Josh when he received that devastating call from Carly.

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s just awful.’

‘Me and Lexie went through the same thing,’ Dan says quietly, swallowing hard, suddenly developing a dry mouth from starting up this thread of conversation.

‘Yeah?’ I say, feeling myself tense up and not really wanting to know more.

‘Only Josh knew about it. It was right after we – you know.’

‘Split up,’ I reply flatly, saying the words for him – watching as a young mum power walks past us behind her Bugaboo pram.

‘Yeah’ he says, following my gaze before looking down at the ground. ‘We hadn’t even been together long and things were still awful between you and me.’

‘They were never awful.’

‘Only because you boxed away all your feelings and pretended it wasn’t happening,’ he says calmly, his brow gently knitting together at the memory.

‘I never did that,’ I lie, causing Dan to shake his head at me.

‘Lexie was only six weeks gone when it happened,’ he says after a pause, looking up at me. ‘And, although I felt
awful about her and the baby – I felt worse about the fact that I didn’t know her. That I found it difficult to talk to her about what I was feeling.’ He looks down at our hands and covers the tops of mine with his. ‘All I actually wanted to do was pick up the phone and call you,’ he says quietly.

‘Me?’

‘You knew me. You’d know to just let me speak when I was ready, to let me stew in my own misery for a little bit. She didn’t know me. She wanted to talk about everything and send our prayers up into the sky on a fucking paper lantern,’ he says, jokingly huffing at the thought, although unable to hide his pain.

‘She’d have been hurting too,’ I say.

‘I know, and worse than me. It killed me that I didn’t know her well enough to take that hurt away.’

‘Well, you know her well enough now,’ I say, offering a sad smile, not entirely sure what to do with this new information about a time that wounded me so badly, but feeling my barriers drop as a result of his honesty.

‘I’m sorry I was such a shit to you, Sarah.’

‘You weren’t,’ I lie again.

Dan raises his eyebrows at me in response.

‘Okay, you were.’

‘Cheers,’ he nods and half-laughs. ‘I’d have made it right, I’d have tried – only that all happened and I got side-tracked.’

‘It’s understandable,’ I shrug. ‘It’s in the past now.’

‘But it’s not. Is it,’ he whispers, his fingertips stroking the top of my hand, stirring a tenderness between us that’s been buried for the last two years.

‘What do you mean?’ I croak, suddenly realizing this is the first time I’ve been alone with Dan since he broke my heart – and not entirely sure how I feel about it. Part of me wants to run away, but the other wants me to stay and listen to whatever he feels he has to share – and he knows that. He’s got me as his audience, so he pounces, while he’s got the chance.

‘I want you to stop hiding everything that’s bubbling away inside of you. I want you to give me all the abuse I deserve. I want us to be – ’

‘To be what?’ I shrug, exhaling a quick breath. ‘We are all we can be.’

‘But I need you to forgive – ’

‘Dan,’ I say, stopping him, not wanting to go there, not wanting this to turn into a big dramatic chat where I pour my heart out and cry ugly girl tears to someone who’ll run back to their future wife as though nothing’s changed. But I’m also nervous of the anger that’s mounted inside me, and that it’s going to charge at him like the monster I’ve been becoming in my dreams.

I don’t want to become that irrational beast.

‘But I need you to forgive me,’ he tries again. ‘There’s always this thing, this uncomfortable, unspoken thing – yes, you’re all lovely and bubbly on the surface, but you forget that I know you.’

‘You knew me,’ I correct him. ‘You knew me and you decided to leave me.’

‘But I want my friend back,’ he begs.

‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’

‘I know it’s awkward. I know I’m a shit for loving someone else and not hiding that fact.’

‘You shouldn’t have to hide it,’ I tut.

‘But I hurt you. I see it. I notice you watching and it’s like a dagger in my heart. A constant reminder of what I did to you.’

‘Dan, please,’ I say, squeezing his hand, wincing as I watch the agony on his face.

‘I just don’t know what I can do to make it right.’

I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I think about our past, present and future.

‘Just love the girl you left me for with all your heart and never hurt her,’ I say, managing some kind of a smile. ‘Never let her go. Then I’ll know what you put me through was all worthwhile.’