The Baby (14 page)

She's wearing shorts which look like a skirt, the same type of wellingtons as Alice, and a stripy jumper. They look scruffy and dirty, like they've been outside for ages, even though it is still only mid-morning. But what is even more unusual is that they're laughing. They look happy. He's never seen Alice look so relaxed. She could be a different person if it weren't for the stupid clothes. They're talking rapidly, peering at each other, interested, like adults. It almost makes him laugh.

Oh my God, Alice has found a twin
.

But they are each so absorbed in what the other has to say that they don't see the buggy. So the scruffy friend trips right into it. Eliza jolts and Jonty shouts, ‘Oi!'

Alice ripples with giggles. ‘Oh, Bethany!'

The girl looks up at Jonty, ‘Oops, sorry.'

That's when Jonty sees Alice's eyes. They widen with fear when she recognizes him. He attempts a smile.

‘Hello, Alice.'

But Alice is bouncing on her feet now. Her skinny arm reaches forward and she points at Eliza. ‘Oh my goodness, Bethany. This is the baby again. This is the illegitimate baby. The one born in our bathroom. Next to the toilet. It's Eliza.'

Jonty's breath swerves from him. But he nods. ‘Yeah. This is Eliza.'

‘Where's Nicola?' He doesn't like her wary look. Like he's taken Eliza without Nicola knowing.

‘I'm looking after her, for Nicola.'

But then Alice seems to remember who is talking and fear gets the better of her. He can see it as it swells inside her. She yanks at her friend's arm. ‘Come on,' she squeaks, ‘let's go.'

Jonty frowns. He has questions to ask. Things to say. He stumbles to a standing position, desperate for them to stay. ‘Wait a minute,' he blusters. ‘How's Ol—'

But Alice is alive with alarm. She's trembling and pulls at her friend's arm like it's the most important thing in the world. ‘Bethany, come
on
.'

She doesn't seem to have a volume control. Perhaps it's fear, he doesn't know. But he hears her words with goose pimples springing at his neck, as they echo across the park. ‘He's the one. He's the one I was telling you about. You know, the one who commits domestic violence?'

The words are crystal clear, all the way to the footballers by
the wood and the mums with their toddlers by the roundabout. Everyone turns towards him. Shame roars up through his body. A forest fire of disgrace. The snap and the crackle of it under his bones almost hurts.

Eliza starts crying. He has to ignore the flush of blood in his cheeks and instead concentrate on his daughter. Something's the matter with her. She jerks her head from left to right and she squeezes tight her eyes. This is what he was dreading. Her little thighs pump at the blanket and she spits out her dummy. She lets out a high cry into the air. It's thin and reedy and has the mums at the roundabout look again with question-mark mouths. He can feel panic. It comes over his arms in a rush. He hates the way the mums are looking at each other. He takes a breath and tries to think logically. What would his nan do?

He spots her dummy on the blanket and makes a grab for it. Stuffs it back in her mouth. But she jerks it out with her tongue, screwing up her face with distaste. He notices his arms are trembling.
God
. Eliza's wails get louder. Her face is an angry pink.

I'm not cut out for this. I'm not cut out for this
.

Then all of a sudden there's Olivia's friend Ben. Ridiculous, with hair flicking around in his idiot face and shoes with a huge wedge. What a knob. The day couldn't get any worse, and if there was any way that he could disappear from this park in a puff of smoke, then he'd do almost anything.

Ben's head is up and his ears tuned into Eliza's wails. They're loud enough now for most of the village to hear. Mortified, he watches as Ben takes steps towards him.

Jonty stops still, his hands on the handles, tense. They look at each other over Eliza's howls. He's like a trapped animal.

But there doesn't seem to be anything in Ben's eyes apart from mild concern. He stoops down and looks at the baby, then back up to Jonty.

Jonty stands still, ready to leave at the first hint of a taunt.

Ben raises his voice over Eliza's shrill tones. ‘She did this last time me and Nic brought her here.' He tentatively places his hand next to Jonty's on the handle, ‘Can I just … ?' He puts pressure on the bar so that Jonty has to remove his fingers. He lets them hang loose.

He watches as Ben shifts the buggy by about forty-five degrees, using his knee and the flex of his wrists.

Almost immediately, like magic, Eliza stops crying. It is as if Ben has found the off button. Jonty's mouth hangs open and his breath is forced into a sigh. ‘How'd you do that?' Eliza is now perfectly relaxed.

Ben grins and shrugs. ‘The sun was in her eyes. I've moved her so that she's in the shade.'

For the second time that day Jonty feels a flush creep to his cheeks. A fool.

Ben, though, is generous. He grins. ‘Don't worry. I didn't realize either. Nicola was off buying ice cream and I was left with this screaming baby with the sun blinding her and I didn't even realize.' He shakes his head. ‘Must be something to do with being female. Mums just seem to know. Maybe it's the maternal thing?'

Jonty snorts. ‘Not all females. There was nothing maternal
about
my
mum.'

Ben cocks his head to one side. Eyebrows high. Jonty feels a surge of surprise. He's never said this to anyone before. But the words get the better of him. ‘All she was interested in was her job. I always had childminders and babysitters looking after me.'

The air is soft between them. Ben's mouth twists. ‘She left, didn't she?'

Jonty nods. Flexes his feet. Sees smears of grime on the toes of his trainers. Knows he'll have to clean them when he gets home. ‘Best, really. She was crap as a mum anyhow. You know she never once went to a parents' evening? Never saw a show. None of the kids at school even knew what she looked like. I had to carry a photo around in my book bag at primary school – just to prove I had one.' His voice is a hot, embarrassed spurt. He looks away, into the sun, uncomfortable. How weak he sounds.

But Ben just nods. ‘Must've been crap.'

Jonty sniffs. Shrugs. He can't quite believe he is having this conversation. He blinks several times. Shuffles. ‘Not the best. Um, thanks for helping with Eliza anyhow,' he mumbles.

Ben grins again. He looks happy. Something's different about him. ‘S'OK.' He starts to take steps to go. It looks like he's taking a short cut through the park to get to the new estate. But then he suddenly stops and turns his head. ‘It's good what you're doing, by the way.' He nods at Eliza. ‘Looking after her. Giving Nicola a break. I know she appreciates it.'

Jonty swallows. He has to ask. It's burning inside him,
hurting his throat.

‘How's Olivia?' he asks.

He's seen her around school, of course, since the last time in her lounge. Even bumped into her on a couple of occasions. But she's never on her own. He's felt a squeeze in his chest. He's wanted to scream,
I still love you
, over the heads of her friends. But of course he hasn't.

That love. That love which started at eleven years old and is still there now, has a lot to answer for. That love, which was so muscular from the very start, had twisted into something horrible and skewed when he noticed how other boys looked at her. That love messed things up for him. And now he's got this massive hole where, by rights, his girlfriend still should be.

He knows there are new boys on the scene. Blake Johnson is sniffing around. He's seen the way she looks at him. He's seen how Blake returns the looks. And he knows there are parties. Parties to which he's not invited any more. Now word's got round, his popularity's shifted. How he's not quite top dog any more. How people have sided with Olivia. He's seen the photos on Facebook and Instagram and he heard them all talking the week following the party.

But it doesn't stop him wondering, or caring for that matter. He can't switch off his feelings like that after six years. He'd like to think that she still cares for him. He never goes to sleep without thinking about her. And he'd do anything to have her back.

But he also knows that this is unlikely now, and that the
best he can do is hope that she's all right.

Ben clears his throat, cocks his head to one side. ‘She's OK, I guess. More or less back to normal. You know Olivia.'

Jonty nods. Pictures her lips, ‘I—' he falters, not quite sure what he's going to say.

But Ben interrupts, crossing his knees and placing all his weight on his skinny left thigh. He plants his hands in his back pockets. Lifts his chin with curiosity. ‘Haven't you spoken to her since you officially broke up?'

Jonty stares at the grass between them. Feels like shit. Shakes his head.

Ben's words are soft. ‘Well, you should.' He waves a hand. ‘There's loads you need to say to each other.'

Jonty slowly nods. Senses that the conversation is almost over. ‘Yeah. Um, thanks.'

Ben turns round again, jerks his head over his shoulder. ‘Talk to her.'

Jonty watches Ben as he picks his way through the bright green foliage which seems to have sprung up with the rain. He almost smiles as Ben lifts his feet in those ridiculous shoes to avoid the puddles. Jonty shakes his head.

He gets his first Saturday job in the garage up the road to earn a bit of cash for Eliza. The following week, he feels the buzz of his phone in the pocket of his jeans. He's had a crap day at school. One of his mates got suspended for slapping a kid from the school in town. He's pissed off and jittery because it could have been him. Perhaps
should
have been him. At the
end of school Durant stood bad-mouthing him in front of the others. Letting him know that he had let them down. That he was inside doing a poncey revision class while he should have been with his mates kicking shit out of the enemy.

He thumbs in the passcode to his phone and sighs. It's Durant. There's a meeting. A fire and some cans on the hill. It's important he goes. Needs to show his face. Needs to improve his profile. He thumbs in a reply and roots round for his trainers. Bellows from his room through to the lounge where his nan's watching
Emmerdale
. ‘I'm off out, Nan.'

‘Where are you going? You haven't had any tea. I was going to do that fish.'

He rolls his eyes. His nan's obsessed with feeding him up. ‘I ate a baguette when I got in. I'll take a protein shake.'

‘That's not enough to feed a sparrow.' She bustles into his room, squeezing her hands. Her rings clink together. ‘Where are you going anyhow?'

‘Out.'

‘Who with?'

‘What is this, flippin'
Crimewatch
? Since when has this house been a police station?'

‘It's not a house, it's a bungalow.'

Jonty breathes through his nose, shaking his head. Sometimes his nan's as barmy as a fruitcake. He's not going to tell her he's seeing Durant. He's not going to say about the fire. She's got a bee in her bonnet about his mates. Reckons they're bad news.

She pulls her mouth down so the creases in her face get
deeper. ‘I thought you were going to do some schoolwork tonight?'

He pats his pockets. Has his phone and some cash from his wages. His trainers could do with a wipe down but it would mean prolonging this interrogation. Wonders about sidestepping his nan and making a dash for it, when the doorbell goes.

They look at each other.

‘Who's that?'

‘Well I don't know, do I?'

His nan shuffles out at full pace for her slippers. He hears the door, then a female voice. Recognizes the tones: Nicola.

He watches over his nan's shoulder. Nicola looks tense. All dressed up in smart stuff he's never seen before. She looks kind of good.

‘Would you mind having her? Only there's no one home and they've called me in for an interview.' Her hands are tense on the buggy.

His nan's face, even though he can't see it, cracks into a smile. He can tell from her shoulders. ‘Of course. Here,' she leans over for the buggy like it's a piece of gold. ‘Let me take her.'

His bloody nan. She's a sucker for this baby. ‘Nan—'

‘We don't mind at all, do we Jonty?'

‘I'm going out, remember?'

Clocks Nicola's eyes. They're narrow and desperate. ‘I won't be long. An hour or so. Only it's River Island. I could do with the money. It's only one shift a week. But it's better
than nothing.'

He won't look at her. Thinks of Durant opening a can by the bonfire.

His nan's nearly peeing herself with excitement. ‘Of course we'll have her.'

Eliza's squawking. Thrashing around under her blanket. She looks far from happy. Nicola looks down. ‘Um, I think she's hungry. There's a bottle in her bag.'

‘Don't worry. We'll sort her out. You go. You go and get that job, sweetheart.'

Sweetheart? Since when was this girl a sweetheart?

Nicola darts a look at Jonty, then back to his nan. ‘If you're sure … Will you be here with Jonty?'

Why does she always ask that? It's annoying. Like he can't cope.

‘Yes, go on. We'll be fine.'

And she's gone before Eliza can scream any more. Jonty rolls his eyes. Leans back against the hallway wall. The plaster's cool under his itching palms. ‘What did you say that for? You know I'm going out.'

His nan's distracted. Sucking up Eliza in her arms. ‘You can hang on for a bit, can't you? Just until she's had her bottle.' She's wrapping and unwrapping Eliza. Trying to calm her down. Eliza's wails are filling the hall. Thrashing about like an eel in his nan's small arms. He stresses that she might drop her.