The Baby (17 page)

‘No.' He snaps. Feels too big for the tiny stool he's sitting on which his nan uses to reach into the cupboards.

‘Why not?' She's brandishing a duster like it's a flag.

‘Cos I'm crap at parties. Cos it's not me.'

Her rings on her lumpy fingers glint under the light. ‘Don't be silly. You never used to be like this.'

Counts to ten. ‘I never used to be a dad. I never used to have to think about screaming babies. They'll all be watching me.
Watching how crap I am.'

She puts the duster down. Crouches by his side so he can smell the polish on her hands. Places bony fingers on his arm. ‘Don't be ridiculous. You're a good dad. And you're getting better every day.'

Shakes his head. Nerves rattling for the escape outside. Needs the wind in his hair. Needs the pavements under his shoes. ‘I'm going for a run.'

His nan looks up. ‘Well don't be long. Tea's at six.'

It rains the morning of the picnic. He's never been so happy to see it splattering on his bedroom window. It'll have to be cancelled. Nobody picnics in the rain.

He's had texts over the weekend. One from Olivia, one from Nicola. Both giving him the time and the date of the picnic. It's in a park in the next village. There's a stream and some bracken and even a herd of deer. Not his type of place – a bit posh. He'd need his bike.

His nan knows. She's a wise old bird and there's not much he can hide from her. After breakfast, while pulling out the Hoover, she asks, ‘When you were a boy, Jonty, can you remember going to places and seeing other children with their mums and dads?'

He sulks into the cushions, grabs at the remote, points it at the TV like it's Voldemort's wand. ‘Yeah.'

‘And you remember how you felt?'

Stabs away through the air, flicking from cookery program to sport. ‘Yeah.'

She leans on the Hoover, her hip jutting out. ‘Did you feel left out? Did you feel like you wanted a mum and a dad?'

Flings the remote into the cushion. Hates the way she can do this. ‘Just a normal mum would've done.'

She fiddles with the plug. Her knees click when she bends down. ‘No, she wasn't the best mum.'

Bitterness on his tongue. ‘By a mile!'

She sits by the plug socket. Delivers the killer question. He knew she would. ‘So is that what you want for Eliza?'

Jabs the TV off. Stands up. Hates the friction which fizzes through the air.

Come two o'clock he finds himself in front of the mirror. Finds himself changing his T-shirt, spraying deodorant. Tells himself it's because he's been training. Cleans his teeth.

Finds his bike in the garage. Dusty and dry. Tests the tyres. Hard as rocks. Without thinking about it, without telling his nan, without even going back to his room to collect his phone, he lifts a leg behind him, over the cross bar and scoots out on to the road.

No going back now.

It has stopped raining. There's just some glistening under the hedges. The steam rises off the warming tar on the road. It takes him fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of hard cycling with a head as empty as he can make it.

He reaches the park before realizing. Clocks the car park. Rammed to the rafters with four-by-fours. Clattering children with scooters and bikes. Mums and dads hollering. Bags
heaving with picnic gear. Seems that everyone's had the same idea. Maybe they'll cancel because it's too crowded.

Weaves his way quickly through the crowds. What the hell is he doing here?

Cuts through the swarms. Remembers where Olivia will be. He's been there before. Just him and her and an afternoon of sunshine and her body. Closes his eyes at the thought. Over the short pathway and through the gate. Cycles fast, weaving through the melee. Takes a short cut off-road. Knows where it leads.

Lets in thoughts. Admits he's nervous. Thinks he'll just show his face. Do the right thing, then get the hell out of there.

Two minutes through the flash of bracken.

Spots them before they spot him. Likes it this way. Still the chance to pull a U-turn and be back on his bed with his Xbox.

It's like a scene from a film. Not him. Not him by a mile. It's a small patch of green, by the stream, under some trees. Only locals know about it. There's a couple of picnic blankets by the middle tree; some laughter; a barbecue smoking over by the stream; a Frisbee. This was his life with Olivia. She sets these things up at the drop of a hat. It has her touch written all over it.

Sees Alice and her new mate in the stream, water up to their knees, making a grab at a bucket. Alice is laughing. He still can't believe that bit. Doesn't remember her laughter.

Some speakers over by the barbecue send out tunes. Sees Ben fiddling with the buttons. His playlist no doubt. He looks relaxed; head down, hair falling over his eyes. A couple of
kids chuck the Frisbee. Josh Strong and a girl from Maths. He's surprised to see Josh. Didn't know he was part of this crowd. Josh spots Jonty. Jonty steps back into the shadow of a tree. Doesn't want to be seen. Not yet. Hasn't made the decision yet.

Stands against the tree, scraping at the bark with his fingernails.

Hazy sun reflecting off the water makes him squint. Makes them all squint. Sees Nicola has shades on. Thinks she looks good. Better than she ever did. A baby seems to have suited her. Weird.

She's sitting on the blanket with Eliza by her side. She's gossiping away to Olivia. Her hands weave around in the air as she speaks. Remembers her fingers. Those girls can talk for England. Always have done. Doesn't know what it is, this connection they seem to have. Sniffs. They seem rock solid. Seem to have got through the fact that one of them screwed the other one over. Pretty impressive really.

Bites down on something jealous.

Takes a longer look at Eliza. Lets in a small bead of tenderness. It sits there under his ribs all strange and glowing. His daughter. Still feels odd to think these words. She's kicking her fat thighs, twisting a toy in her grip, making those noises he recognizes as happiness.

Inhales. Takes a step out of the shadows.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes tops, then he'll scarper. No harm done. Everybody's happy.

The wheels on his bike tick as he enters the scene for
everyone to see. Keeps his head down. Grips the handlebars. Reminds himself who he's doing this for.

‘Jonty!'

It's Nicola. She's beaming all over her face. It's hard not to smile back. Anyone would.

‘Hi.'

‘You came.'

He nods. Keeps his eyes close to the ground.

‘Hi Jonty.' Olivia's quieter. But he sees the look. Knows that she approves. Enjoys the thought.

Stands on the edge of the blanket. Awkward.

‘Sit down.' Olivia pats the space next to her. He feels eyes in the middle of his shoulder blades. Hasn't seen Blake. Wonders if she's kept to her word.

‘No Blake?' Can't stop himself.

She smiles. ‘Don't think we're quite at this stage yet.' She gestures at the scene. ‘Besides – I told you I wouldn't invite him if you didn't want me to.'

Puts his hand on his face, it's hotter than he'd like. ‘I've got no right to ask though.'

She nods again. Thinking. ‘No, you haven't. But I thought it was important that you came. And if it meant you did, then …' She lifts her palms. He could kiss her for that. She nods at the baby. ‘Have you seen what she's wearing? She looks so cute.'

He turns to look. She's wearing a dress and frilly shorts. Her legs are translucent-white. Like they've never seen the sun. Thinks about sun cream. Turns to Nicola. ‘Is she all right?
I mean, should she be in this sun?'

Nicola laughs. ‘She's OK. I've brought a parasol with me. You can help me put it up in a bit, if you like?'

Likes the idea of doing something with his hands.

Nicola fiddles with Eliza's dress. ‘Your nan bought her this.'

He doesn't remember stuff like that. But knows that Nicola does. Knows that she's as obsessed with fashion as he is with the gym. Has to smile. In fact, finds it easy to smile. She's cool, is Nicola. There's something soft but sexy about her. Remembers the smoothness of her skin and her lips when he kissed them.

He leans back on the blanket. Feels a muscle uncoil. Lets in some sun. Lets in some of the girls' conversation. Lets in Eliza's gurgling.

A pleasant five minutes pass without him realizing.

The sausage smell is good. Ben's over by the barbecue laughing with Josh Strong. Something – maybe a look they give each other, maybe the way Josh touches Ben's back – makes him think. An ooze of understanding. Smiles to himself.

Olivia's watching him. Shrewd. She can read his mind. She's got a small smile on her face waiting for his question. He doesn't give it to her. Doesn't need to. Just raises an eyebrow at her. She nods back. Puts a finger on her lips carefully.

It's good that they can still do this kind of communication. A relief that after everything, after over six years, there's still something. Leans back more. Feels another muscle uncoil.

Ploughing through two hot dogs, sitting between Nicola and Olivia, and it's another half-hour.

Watching the easy way Ben is with Nicola and the baby. Five minutes swallowing down jealousy.

Then he's rocking Eliza to sleep in her buggy. It takes fifteen easy minutes.

There's a game of rounders which he's quite good at. Some banter about school when Josh Strong brings over some cans. Arguments over music and selfies. A group photograph where he hopes he might be smiling. Sunbathing. Alice and her mate with a bucket full of river wildlife, sloshing it on the blanket in their excitement. The constant chatter over his head from Nicola and Olivia. A drowsy, warm feeling as more muscles unwind.

It's three hours later when he eventually thinks about going. Nicola's packing stuff up. She's on her knees rooting around under the buggy. Her jeans are tight on her arse. He needs to look away.

Jonty feels a hand on his sleeve. It's Olivia's fingers. He'd recognize them anywhere.

‘Thanks for coming.'

‘Thanks for asking.'

‘I know it was hard. I know it's not really your thing.'

Sniffs. Watches Nicola stuff things in the bag. Her hair sways about in the breeze. It would be nice to feel its weight in his hand. Coughs. ‘You can invite Blake next time, if you like. I'll be all right.'

Olivia squeezes her eyebrows together – like she always
used to. Her voice is soft. ‘Listen, about your half-brothers and sisters – I'll help you find them if you like?'

There's a warm velvet feeling in his throat. ‘Fancy yourself as Sherlock, don't you?'

‘Might do.' Olivia's smile cracks her cheeks and her eyes are warm.

And for the moment, with a flash of clarity, he knows that this will have to do. That for today, and perhaps for a long, long time in the future, he'll have to make do with knowing he can still make her smile. Remembers what his nan said about seeing someone smile and knowing that you put it there.

There's some laughter by the barbecue.

The sun slips from behind a cloud.

Summer leaves rattle above them.

Makes a hasty decision. Thinks it's the right one. A soft shift inside him. It feels good.

He'll walk back home with Nicola and his daughter.

Walking to work, Ben decides on something. It's nut-hard in the back of his throat. He has to accept it. There's nothing else for it: he's in love with Josh Strong. Can't help himself. It has him spiralling down into a vortex of agony. But it's there all the same. Love.

His steps are quick in the cool sunshine. Janey hates him being late on a Saturday morning. It's the one time when all hands are needed. It's the busiest shift of the week and he can't afford to waste time.

Five minutes later and he's there, breathless at the cafe door. Pushing it open, causing the bell to chime. And with the sound comes a hope.
Let Josh come in again this morning
. The shift starts predictably; Janey all ratty and tense after a hard night's drinking in town. Him and Seb – the other waiter who goes to a private school, but isn't actually that bad – sweeping floors and pulling down chairs to the cough and the splutter of the machines. The usual battle over background music. Him with his eighties indie, Janey with her modern day R & B. Janey, true to form, wins. It's her cafe after all.

The warm smell of baking permeates the room. Geoff, Janey's husband, is the best muffin-maker in town.

The first couple of hours pass as they almost always do, pretty quietly. Early-morning stragglers getting their first rush of caffeine. Bacon sandwiches and steaming mugs of tea. The usual homeless guy who slides into the corner where Janey sets him up with a free flask of tea and a sniff to say he has exactly five minutes to stay.

And then the more difficult rush as the cafe fills up,
although this is where he gets decent tips, if he plays things right.

And then, come late morning when Janey has finally wrestled with her hangover and cracked a couple of smiles, he'll be allowed a few songs using his iPod, when he's sure there's been enough business to make it worth Janey's while.

He bangs on a Stone Roses track and jiggles his way between tables. His friend Seb rolls his eyes and Janey just laughs.

‘Too loud,' Geoff yells from the kitchen. But nobody takes notice.

Ben gets a chance to think about his evening during his break. He's looking forward to it. He sits with his feet on the coffee table in the tiny back room. A can of Coke in his left hand, a cheese toasty nestled on his lap. A night at Olivia's, just like old times. Him, Olivia and Nicola.
Final Destination 2
and a bottle of raspberry vodka. Perfection. Nicola's mum is having Eliza for the evening, something she does once a week. And this is how she's chosen to spend the opportunity. Ben feels good. He's pleased they're all friends again. It was difficult when they weren't speaking. Things are beginning to get back to normal.

He thinks about a cigarette. Reckons he might just have time if he's quick about it. He stands at the back door and inhales. Squints up at the sky with a watery globe of sunshine bobbing behind the chimney.

Let him come in. Let him come in
.

He flicks the butt into the flowerpot which Geoff uses
when he thinks Janey's not looking. He's pleased to hear that his iPod's now bashing out some James to the baffled diners. It makes him smile. And his smile gets bigger when, after serving a particularly awkward customer who has to be persuaded that she ordered latte and not cappuccino, he hears the rumble of the football crowd.

He tries not to look. Instead, studies the order in his hand.
What if Josh isn't with them?

They're a noisy rabble who've taken to coming in for cans of Coke and chips after training. He likes them all. They're in his year at school. Cheerful and brash, they tease Ben about his waiting skills and clothes. They're not his group of friends. Too sporty, too packed full of testosterone. But he enjoys their humour and takes their teasing well. He knows that Seb's reluctance and annoyance gets him nowhere.

‘Oi, waiter,' one of them yells, grabbing the Perspex menu and jabbing a finger. ‘Five chips and five Cokes. Make it snappy.'

Ben waves his pen with a flourish. ‘And will that be with or without something I've coughed up?'

Janey scowls from behind the till. But he knows she enjoys the joke just as much as his customers. He flicks a glance at where he's sure Josh will be. And he's greeted with the grin he was hoping for.

‘We'll go without,' Josh laughs, sprawling across his chair. Ben nods, noticing how his legs are caked with dry mud. How his football socks are wrinkled with it, halfway down his calves.

Seb takes the order through to the kitchen and Ben is left at the fridge yanking out five cans of Coke. He feels a battering under his ribs. He stays longer than necessary with his back to the table; he doesn't want them to see how his hands are trembling.

Two kids with ice cream plastered on their cheeks take up his time.

The football crowd are loud and excited from their training. A table of young mums frown their annoyance. Janey raises her eyebrows at Ben. Ben just shrugs.

When the plates of chips are ready he and Seb serve the boys, plonking plate after plate in front of them. He watches how Josh devours the first few chips. He has a fascinating mouth. Full lips. Perfect teeth. He has to turn away and stand at the counter, breathing in, trying to tot up a bill.

‘Ben?'

He spins round and looks into Josh's eyes. He watches as Josh slides a two-pound coin across the counter, his finger broad and stubby. His nail chewed down. There are three dots of dried up mud by the side of his eye. They make it hard for Ben to swallow.

Josh puts his hand through his hair and they both witness a haze of mud sprinkle on the counter around the coin.

‘Can I have a chocolate muffin?' His voice is packed full of smiles.

Ben nods. ‘That's one pound eighty.'

‘You can keep the change.'

Ben slides back on his heels enjoying the attention.
‘Big spender.'

Josh grins. There are crinkle marks by his eyes; they join the dots of mud together. He nods towards Ben's feet. ‘Use it to buy some new shoes.'

Ben peers down at his creepers and lowers his voice. ‘Fuck off!'

He can hear the exhalation of laughter as he turns towards the muffins.

‘What's gay, Ben?' Bella dips an oven chip into her egg yolk and forks it into her greedy mouth. He watches as yellow spots the side of her mouth. He slides his own, empty plate to one side. He flicks a glance at his mum who scowls as she lifts the frying pan off the hob towards the washing-up bowl.

He sighs, feeling sparks jump under his ribs. ‘Why?' he tries to sound casual.

Bella mashes peas against her final chip. ‘Because Zac Jones said that that's what you are. He said it at school. In PE.'

His fingers fold into fists beneath the kitchen table. ‘It doesn't matter, Bells. I'll tell you when you're six. But don't worry about it because it's not bad. It's just a description.'

His half-sister studies her peas. He knows she's not keen on them. But they both know their mum won't let her leave the table until she's finished. With a deep breath he thinks the moment passes. She's too intent on her peas to let it worry her. But it saddens him. He doesn't like to think of his sexuality affecting his sister.

Ben's mum and dad split up when he was young. She
remarried several years later and Bella became an almost immediate result. It took a while for him to get used to her. He remembers getting sidelined when Bella cried or whinged, and how this came as a shock. But as soon as she started walking and talking Ben was smitten. And now he thinks she's the cutest kid around – alongside Eliza, that is – and gets fiercely protective of her. Dave, his stepdad, is an idiot, but he seems to make his mum happy. And his mum is the best mum in the world, so this is all that matters. Dave has little time for Ben. Doesn't really get him.

‘Finished,' Bella says proudly, popping the final fork of peas into her small button mouth. ‘Can I get down, Mum?'

Their mum looks over to the table at Bella's empty plate. ‘OK.'

Bella skips off out of the kitchen, her hair bouncing on her shoulders.

His mum sighs at the sink. ‘You out tonight, Ben?'

He picks up the plates, stacking them one on top of the other, moves towards the dishwasher. ‘Yeah. Olivia's.'

His mum nods over the washing-up. ‘OK. Don't be too late, yeah? Haven't you got revision tomorrow?'

Ben opens the dishwasher and slots the plates into the rack. ‘Yeah. English. I won't. Don't worry.' He likes English. Likes his teacher. It helps that Ben is good at the subject, usually achieving top grades with minimal effort. He's thinking of taking it at university.

Dave saunters in. He's wearing a replica football top and scratches at his belly. What a slob. How can his mum find this
bloke attractive?

‘I'm off then.' Ben pecks his mum on the cheek and inhales her scent of cooking and perfume. She nods.

Dave, in his socks which are falling off his feet, grimaces. ‘You're going out like that?'

Ben stands still for a second thinking carefully of his skinny jeans, his creepers for which he paid a fortune and a top which he'd bought only last week from River Island. He looks good tonight and he doesn't need idiots like Dave to suggest otherwise. But he doesn't want another fight. So instead, taking a deep breath and feeling his shoulders stiffen, he sighs and tries not to sound too sarcastic.

‘Are you offering me fashion tips, Dave?' He nods at the bulge of white flesh between the bottom of his football top and the waistband of his supermarket jeans.

Dave rubs his nose with the back of his hand, yawns loudly so that the fillings at the rear of his mouth can be seen, the skin on his cheeks turns a shade purpler, and then spits two words across the kitchen. ‘Little poof.'

Ben walks past him. Determined to get out as quickly as possible, but even so, he can't avoid the whistle of disapproval coming from his mum at the sink.

Let them battle it out
, he thinks.
Don't get involved
.

Turns out Olivia has news. Softened by the vodka and the intimacy which
Final Destination 2
demands, they nestle together on the sofa. Their twisted limbs – all denim and coloured socks – and sprawled bodies make for a good place
to tell everything.

Nicola looks good. Her face is round and smiling and her baby weight is all gone. She has a softer look about her these days. But she doesn't like the film that much, spending most of it behind a cushion or under Ben's arm. At the end credits, when she can finally emerge, she shakes her head.

‘That so sucked.'

Olivia giggles and reaches for the bottle which is between Ben's feet. ‘You are such a chicken, Nic. You hardly saw any of it.'

Nicola smiles and holds her phone aloft. ‘I had childcare to organize.'

Ben lifts his head. ‘Jonty again? He has her a lot now doesn't he?'

Olivia pours the vodka studiously; she takes far too much time and attention over the act. Ben waits for her to speak. He knows her so well. Knows, by the furrows above her eyebrows that she's about to say something. ‘It's called taking responsibility, Ben. He has to learn. He's had her every Sunday for a few weeks now. He's getting quite good at it.'

Ben slides a look at Nicola but her eyes are wide in agreement. He remains unconvinced. ‘Isn't it just called ‘revenge'?'

Nicola shoves him in the ribs and overacts her gasp, ‘Benjamin, what are you suggesting? Are you calling my daughter a form of punishment?'

Ben sighs and lowers his eyes. He knows how strong these two are when they're united. He even likes it. Lowering his voice to add some seriousness. ‘You know I'm not.
She's amazing.'

‘Jonty's all right with her now.'

Ben thinks of Jonty; pictures the tiny little Eliza in those meat-joint arms. These days he tolerates him. Accepts that he's a part of Nicola and Olivia's lives. Even so, he can't help thinking he's a piece of shit. Hates how he treated Olivia and how he still inflicts low-lying bullying all around school. Shits like him cause so much pain but get away with murder. Olivia, as far as Ben is concerned, made the best decision of her life by blowing him out.

Nicola shrugs. Her mouth opens then closes but she doesn't say anything. The room is suddenly charged. Ben swings his legs. ‘I don't know why you stayed with him for so long Livvy. He was horrible to you.'

Olivia closes her eyes. Sighs. ‘Yeah, he was.' She nods slowly, Ben watches her fingers knit together. ‘And sometimes he hurt me.'

Nicola's eyes widen, ‘What, physically?'

Olivia nods. Ben grimaces. He'd thought as much.

‘Not badly,' Olivia says quickly, ‘but I never really got why.'

‘How often?'

Olivia sighs, her eyes glitter. ‘It started last year. He used to pinch me under my hair, at the back of my neck. And other places.' She's in full swing now. It's like she's in a trance.