Guilty (4 page)

Meanwhile Simon comforted himself that his sperm count wasn’t zero. He did produce some live sperm. He just had to hang on in there and believe.

Caroline pestered Simon with the issues. Would they be willing to maintain contact with the donor so that the child could maintain the identity of its roots? She worried over and over again if they could accept that the child would need to be told the truth about the history of its conception from day one?

Simon had surprised himself and Caroline as he eventually warmed to the idea and accepted being a parent involved loving the child unconditionally, not necessarily being genetically linked.

However, in later years he had wondered if Caroline’s constant nagging had resulted in him being brainwashed. Sometimes he would look back and wonder why he had let her force him down that route. He appeared to get past the genes issue as he realised under Caroline’s persuasive instruction that love didn’t require matched DNA! He and Caroline were not genetically related. He had chosen her; he could not have loved anybody more. They certainly had no genetic connection with their glorious golden retriever, Rufus, who they had chosen as a pup. They never looked at another dog, wishing they had chosen that one. Once you chose your puppy it was a life-long bond, a commitment. Rufus was the heart and soul of their household.

The sperm bank acceptance had been like a pressure valve. Once the baby-making pressure was off, Simon had re-found all of his feelings and more for his beautiful wife. Caroline herself had let go of her witch-like characteristics; she had reverted back to the soft, gentle, loving woman he had chosen to marry. They were truly happy, already in love with their new little baby, whoever it was.

Once they were registered with the agency that Caroline had deemed the most trustworthy, it felt like being pregnant, but pregnant with a baby elephant, because it could be a while before they felt they had found a suitable match.

Jo, Caroline’s best friend and confidante had done her best to prepare Caroline that life with this child might not be plain sailing but she was blind to any such words because as she knew from family and friends, life with any child could be hell on earth at the same time as a little gift from heaven!

Jo begged her to consider if Simon really would be able to bond with another man’s child. Would he, in some way, interpret the conception, in his subconscious mind, as a form of adultery? Was Caroline sure it was what Simon wanted too? Were they really working on this together as a couple or was it Caroline just forcing things on?

It all sailed over Caroline’s head. In her rose-tinted glasshouse all she could imagine was a gurgling baby gently being cradled by its new mum and dad.

Simon asked how they could be sure that the donor didn’t have a history of violence, drug abuse, alcohol addiction or mental illness. All these scenarios would inadvertently mean the child had quite a risk of exhibiting problems in their own lives as it grew up. He emphasised time and time again that there could be profound medical or development needs, complex family histories which hadn’t been confessed to by the donor, maybe a donor desperate for money. Simon could only think that a man would do this for monetary gain but Caroline contradicted him, insisting it was done by caring men who wanted to help childless couples. Simon argued that males didn’t think like that. He claimed it would be ridiculous to think any right-minded man would want the possibility of numerous offspring sprouting up around the world to which there was no emotional connection.

Yet again Jo confronted Caroline to ensure that Simon was prepared for all of this and accepted it. Caroline’s lips paid service to her enquiries, assuring Jo that yes, she had considered all these issues. She was convinced in her own mind that their loving upbringing would produce the perfect child, always happy and content, so grateful to be a part of their loving family, growing up in the beautiful home that Simon’s well paid job as lawyer could provide.

She just wanted to get on with it. People who had children naturally didn’t have to go through all these hoops. It maddened her but she had to play along with it all; she had no choice, nowhere to escape from Jo and Simon’s doubts.

She dropped the secrecy; she had become so all-consumed that it was her only topic of conversation.

Looking back now, she realised how very weird it had been. They had all indulged her childish play acting. She was reminiscent of those women who treat life-like baby dolls as if they are real infants. She had only recently seen a documentary about the christenings they hold, the beautiful prams they push them to the shops in, the hours they spend cuddling them, the outfits they choose for them, the nappies they change! How could her own little world have seemed so normal at the time? Her family had been so willing to placate her by playing along.

Only now could she see her own parallels with Sadie’s manipulative streak. Were they all to blame for this overindulgence which like a crafty tide must surely have flooded over into Sadie’s existence. Had they, between them all, engulfed by their whacky drama, laid the unstable foundations for that little life?

They decorated a beautiful nursery in a neutral colour: lemon. Caroline was enjoying this new life of expectant mother even though she was not yet pregnant. She began to knit cardigans suitable for either sex. She sewed curtains. She had chosen the fabric from John Lewis on a shopping trip with her mum – tiny beige rabbits with big fluffy white tails hopping all over a pale green background. The bunnies wore yellow neck ribbons. She bought a cot bumper and duvet, pale green with a yellow pinstripe.

Her mum had accompanied her on all these shopping trips. It had been very therapeutic for her mum’s dwindling mental awareness. At this stage it was just the odd forgetful incident, so easily excused as a senior moment. Her mother would buy a mini hairbrush set, only to buy another on the next shopping expedition.

The extended family were all preparing too for the arrival of the stork and its precious bundle and they were all quite excited. Her mum insisted on buying the bath set – a lemon bath with matching potty. A few weeks later she had bought a white version! She couldn’t resist a selection of unisex babygrows, opting for size 3–6 months with the assurance that if she kept the receipt they could easily be exchanged.

Mark and Della lent them bags of early baby toys but explained they would want them back when baby number two made an appearance. They were full of advice as to which sort of pushchair would be best.

At first Simon had argued not to tell anybody about the sperm donation, but then they had realised they would want to be honest with the child when it was older about its roots. So rather than face problems, then shielding the truth from relatives and friends, they settled on acknowledging it now. It was nothing to be ashamed of, just a medical fact of life, Caroline reassured him.

Nothing to be ashamed of, but looking back now, Caroline realised how very odd it must have seemed to have got everybody so involved, planning and preparing for a phantom pregnancy. She now realised how fragile her own mental state must have been to have got so wrapped up buying all those things when she hadn’t even been pregnant. With the hindsight of all her therapy, she appreciated it had probably been her way of making sure everybody was delighted by this unusual form of conception. By getting them all involved she was ensuring their acceptance.

Simon’s mum, as they had expected, had been less forthcoming with her enthusiasm when they had announced their plans.

“What about bad blood?” she had insensitively blurted out. She always had a library of disastrous stories for every incident in life.

Simon had been rightly angry with his mum and had ushered Caroline home, leaving his mum with four uneaten Sunday lunches. Once they had driven off, Simon’s dad, Charles, had torn a strip off Estelle, made her ring to apologise. In an effort to set wrongs right, they had taken Della to choose a pushchair, top of the range, and had it delivered as a surprise for Caroline and Simon. In reality this had done more harm than good because Caroline had so been looking forward to choosing one herself, but Simon begged her to see that this was their olive branch. They really must accept it with the grace in which it was intended if their family was going to bond.

Estelle grew very positive from that moment on. Charles had pointed out she could lose this new, planned grandchild to its other grandparents’ arms if she kept being so brash.

The extended family gelled together and showed its support. One shopping trip led to another. Shopaholics anonymous, the lot of them, addicted to visits to Babies R Us. Looking back, they were mad, the lot of them, all under Caroline’s spell, trapped in her pantomime, her charade.

Somewhere along the line, Caroline had put into practice this so carefully planned conception. All the openness, all the fuss and extended discussions and then suddenly a cloak of secrecy.

Suddenly Noreen, Della and Estelle were whispering to each other.

“Don’t you think she’s putting weight on?”

“Did you notice she didn’t have a glass of wine?”

“Simon said she was off work last week with sickness!”

Simon was secretly pleased because Caroline had transformed into a patient woman, consumed by motherly tasks. She just did not appear to count the passing months and coped well with the resulting pregnancy. The dream had finally metamorphosed into reality.

It was Simon who shed the first tears of joy. His darling daughter had entered the world. At that first glimpse of the wriggling infant she stole his heart.

“Sadie,” he muttered through his tears. “My darling Sadie. Ooh love, we have a daughter!” Caroline, was crying tears of joy, too, as they nestled over their precious Sadie.

3.

His tears were a mixture of joy and guilt. He dragged himself away from his newborn.

“I better pop out and ring the family.”

“And Jo,” Caroline enthused. She’d rather Jo knew first before the family. Jo was the one who had given her so much support.

Her words weren’t needed. He had already tapped out her number.

“Sadie,” was all he needed to say.

“You have a daughter then,” came her curt response.

“Yes, 8lb 13.”

Caroline had primed him on the details everybody would want to know.

“Black hair, the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen,” he muttered with pride.

“When can I see you, sorry her?”

A moment’s hesitation, a moment too long.

“Come now,” he couldn’t help himself. Unsuspecting Caroline would want that too though, he knew.

Thankfully he just managed to remember the calls to the family as he was about to dash back in to announce Jo’s visit.

Job done, he straightened his hair, dug in his pocket for a mint.

Caroline was plastered with the biggest smile he had ever seen. He swapped his phone for his camera and the first of millions of photos came into existence.

Caroline saw it the moment Jo burst through the doors. One would have thought she would have been oblivious to it, wrapped in the awe and wonder of new motherhood but somehow her senses were on full alert and she wondered how she could have been so blind as she had waddled through her pregnancy. She sniffed the glorious newborn smell as she pressed her nose into Sadie’s scalp.

When could it have started and how and why? But she knew why. What husband could have protected his masculinity the way she had treated him, the way she had discarded him.

The betrayal stung; she was wretched but they thought it was delayed response to the difficult birth. She saw their genuine concern and yes, love for her, as they both simultaneously dashed to her aid. Simon grabbed Sadie as Caroline spewed up again.

As she wiped her mouth she saw their two heads bent together in awe of this amazing gift.

Anger, no – sadness – consumed her. She had brought this upon herself.

They were two good people, two loyal people but she had dragged them through hell and back with her persistence, ignoring Simon’s humanity, treating him as a cast-off reproductive machine.

Her raw emotions awakened by the pangs of motherhood screamed to her that any husband would have fallen into the arms of such a thoughtful and caring woman as Jo. She knew it would have just happened.

As they both turned, concerned for her welfare, she knew without doubt that both would turn from their infidelities in celebration of his new child. There would be no recriminations, no pleading, they would both do the honourable thing and so she made the decision that she too would follow suit. She would make amends to both and that would start with her forgiveness. There was not even a need to acknowledge what she had discovered. It would die with dignity.

Jo bent to kiss her forehead and passed her the white roses she had brought. With that she turned and left and Simon refused to let his eyes follow her out.

Neither spoke, not even noticing each other’s quiet, enthralled, immersed, staring at the amazing gift which had been bestowed upon them. It was a comfortable silence.

Caroline was sure that Simon hadn’t realised that she knew. She surprised herself: there was no jealousy, no anger, no sense of betrayal, a funny feeling that it was a sort of justice, call it karma if you like.

She lay there exhausted but exuberant. Both were lost in their own thoughts but their spirits were united by this tiny bundle; they had been purged.

Sadie’s birth had wiped their slates clean; both knew they wanted nothing else but to move forward, put the past behind them. Simon’s arm slipped around her shoulders and he drew her to him. She felt the passion in his kiss.

“Thank you for Sadie,” he whispered.

“Thank you for Sadie,” she mouthed back. It just slipped out, heartfelt. There was no need to explain.

Despite the circumstances, they both knew Sadie was Simon’s child; his soul had willed her into existence and had rejoiced at her conception, a spiritual creation. Today was a celebration of new life and new beginnings for them all.

Caroline had to stay in hospital a couple of nights. Simon found his visits a mixture of heaven and hell. Pure joy when he could hold their darling daughter but complete darkness when he had to return home at the end of each visit without them both. They truly were in paradise for every second they were together as a family.

Everything was brand new. Life was one big party of friends and family calling round with presents for the new arrival. Sadie was completely spoilt. There was nothing she didn’t have.

He learnt how to change nappies and mix her bottle as Caroline needed her milk topping up.

As soon as he got them home, he took her out in her buggy. He claimed that the wind-up clown in the box was her favourite toy which would bring calm to her rosy cheeks when she had been crying. As the weeks passed he learnt to recognise her hungry cry, which he swore was a different cry to when her nappy was dirty or if her gums were hurting. He knew how to rub the baby Bonjela into her tiny gums, how to check the nappy rash with Sudocrem, how to check her neck to see if she was too warm or too cold. She sat for hours in his lap, clutching his finger like a security blanket.

Big blue eyes had learnt to shine with joy the moment Caroline and Simon entered the room. Chubby little legs would kick with delight when she heard their voices in the hallway where she slept in her pram. Chunky arms stretched towards them, begging to be picked up.

Caroline was delighted that Simon was a hands-on dad. He was better at this parenting lark than she was. As Sadie grew, Caroline arranged the bedtime routine. She just tried too hard; motherhood didn’t come naturally to Caroline.

Looking back in later years, she realised she had just tried too damn well hard! For example, one night she had decided Sadie could sit on Simon’s knee to watch the nursery rhyme video she had carefully selected from Asda, while Caroline went upstairs to fill the baby bath.

Sadie did not show the slightest interest in the bright characters prancing across the screen, singing merry little ditties. She was more interested in reaching out to Simon’s newspaper and crinkling it up. Caroline was disappointed. She wondered if other babies this age would sit and be educated by nursery rhymes. Did this mean she had poor levels of concentration? She tried looking up Concentration in the index of her Miriam Stoppard childcare manual but there was no reference. She made a mental note to ask the health visitor, who had arranged to visit the following day, to check all was going smoothly.

They decided to give up on the nursery rhymes. After tea they took Sadie up for her bath. Caroline remembered to wait the prescribed time so that Sadie would not throw the tea back up in her bath. She’d opened up the net containing the new family of rubber ducks. Sadie immediately grabbed one of the tiny ones and began sucking its beak. Caroline hastily snatched it from her when she noticed the paint from the orange beak seemed to be peeling of, worried in case she got lead poisoning!

The musical mobile was wound up after the bedtime cuddle on the rocking chair when Caroline had tried her best to flick through the book of animal pictures, making the appropriate farmyard sounds for each animal.

Sadie was then gently popped beneath the cot duvet, the lights switched off, the door gently pulled to, leaving enough room for a quick peep at her when they went to bed. The baby monitors were switched on. Simon and Caroline crept downstairs to enjoy a glass of wine.

Just as they had swigged their first mouthful, a wail filtered, cracking, through the monitor. Caroline looked aghast at Simon. She didn’t usually cry when they put her down. What did they do now?

They decided to wait a while but the wails were growing in crescendo, becoming angry cries, interrupted by sobs for breath.

“Do you think she’s hungry?” Caroline suggested.

“Maybe she’s too cold?” Simon helpfully contributed.

“What shall we do?” Caroline felt like sobbing herself.

They decided to go back up to put one of the lemon honeycomb blankets on top of the duvet.

As they opened the door Sadie pulled herself up on the bars, stretching her arms up to them.

“Sadie, go to sleep,” Simon cooed. Sadie was having none of it. She bawled back at him, going bright red in her little face.

“Go and bring her a drink,” Caroline commanded, as she picked up the screaming youngster and sat with her wriggling in her arms in the wooden rocking chair, trying her best to rock her to sleep.

Sadie angrily pushed the mug away when they tried to give her a drink, so Simon was sent to the bathroom cabinet in search of the new tube of teething gel. He found nappy rash cream, ear buds, baby talc, baby cream, baby shampoo, cradle cap liquid, baby nail clippers and underneath it all, the desired gel.

Caroline rubbed it on Sadie’s gums. She appeared to like the taste as the crying stopped and she licked her lips repeatedly.

“Seems to be doing the trick,” Simon stated hopefully.

Cautiously they lowered her back into the cot and left the room for the second time.

They made it to the bottom of the stairs before the yelling recommenced.

“Get a bit more of that baby rice, please,” Caroline asked Simon wearily. They took it up with a plastic spoon and, with Sadie once more sat on Caroline’s knee; they began to spoon mouthfuls into her willing mouth.

“Seems she was hungry, then,” Simon stated with a sigh of relief.

Caroline remembered to burp her. Confident that she had got any wind up by rubbing her back, several times, they crept out yet again.

The baby monitor gurgled contented little grunts but then suddenly there was a whooshing sound followed immediately by screams. Both parents raced up the stairs taking two at a time. Sadie lay covered in sick.

This time Caroline did cry. Simon looked on helplessly, not really knowing what to do next.

Another bath, which included a hair wash this time. After the washing machine was set in motion they sat with baby Sadie in her third sleepsuit of the day, in the lounge, cradling her. Caroline was frightened to put her back down yet in case she was sick again, scared she might choke on her vomit. They decided to keep her up for an hour just to check it wasn’t a tummy bug.

Simon began to nod off. Sadie seemed more awake than ever. She loved the tassels on Caroline’s plush pink cushions and kept trying to stuff them in her mouth. At eleven they decided to try again.

The whole routine minus the bath, farmyard sounds followed by a gentle rock and gently Sadie was lowered back into the cot. Simon was sent down to lock up. Caroline started her ablutions in the bathroom. A few minutes’ grace before the howls started again . . .

“Perhaps we should leave her, let her cry herself to sleep,” Simon bravely suggested.

Caroline frustratingly agreed because she couldn’t think what else to do. Trying their best to ignore the bawling, they got into bed themselves.

Sadie was having none of it.

“She’ll make herself sick again,” Caroline despaired.

“Should I go down and carry her buggy up from the hallway?” Simon suggested. “We could put her in it and push it to and fro till she nods off,” he said, remembering this was how she was used to going to sleep for her daytime nap.

So down he went and struggled up the narrow staircase, just catching the wallpaper. Best not to mention that to Caroline just now he decided.

Sadie was duly strapped into the buggy and Caroline lay in bed as Simon pushed it backward and forwards.

Sadie bent forward, her head peeping round at the horizontal mummy, giggling away at her.

“This isn’t going to work,” Caroline screamed.

“Maybe she’s lonely in her room,” Simon said. “We’ve only just decorated it and everything has that brand new smell. Let’s put her cot in here for the first night till she settles.”

Caroline and Simon pushed their bed nearer the wall, leaving Sadie safely strapped in the buggy while they manoeuvred the cot through. Simon had put the flat pack cot-bed up in Sadie’s room. It was quite a squeeze getting it through the doors. Caroline felt quite disappointed when some of the lemon paint chipped off as they caught the door frame.

Sadie thought it was great, peeping over the bars of her cot at mummy and daddy.

The exhausted parents put their bedside lamps off, deciding to ignore her. She was safe; they would hear if she was sick. The worst-case scenario was that she would cry all night. Suddenly it was morning; well dawn. They were awoken at six by hungry cries.

The health visitor assured them all was normal. What did they expect? No babies that age would sit and watch the telly!

Caroline had never been happier in her whole life. She felt like Maria in the Von Trapp family. She was finally a mother and she couldn’t have had a nicer daughter. She cuddled Sadie non-stop, never putting her down. Simon was so, so happy seeing his beaming wife and his precious daughter together. At last the gods had smiled on them. They were ecstatic twenty-four seven. Simon took photo after photo. Both thanked God, who they had suddenly acknowledged, for their very precious gift.