Authors: Joanne Phillips
I smile and shake my head. Sod Sharon.
‘It’s Lipsy,’ I say, stalling. ‘She’s talking about going back to work in a matter of weeks. And she’s found this so-called friend of hers who wants to be a childminder, but she’s a complete nightmare, Paul. I wouldn’t leave her in charge of my dog let alone my baby.’
‘You don’t have a dog,’ he reminds me.
No. But I do have a baby.
Paul listens patiently while I prattle on a little longer, then he takes my hand and presses it between his palms.
‘Stella, Lipsy will be fine. She’s a big girl now, she’s got Robert, and your mum and dad nearby. Even if we weren’t going to Derby, you wouldn’t be living here, would you, after the wedding? She’d have to get used to you not being around all the time anyway.’
‘But she’s hardly looked after Phoenix on her own at all. She phones me every day, or she phones my mum. I just don’t know how she’ll cope.’
Paul shuts me up with a kiss. ‘She’s doing all that because she can, Stella. Because you’re here. And she’ll still have your mum, won’t she? And she’ll still have you on the end of the phone. We’ll be ninety minutes away. It’s not the other side of the world.’
‘That’s what she said,’ I tell him. He laughs.
‘So all this is coming from you? Lipsy’s not pressuring you to stay, it’s just in your head?’
Just because it’s in my head doesn’t make it any less important, I don’t say. Instead I confess how much I’m going to miss Phoenix, and Paul comforts me the only way he can.
When I come up for air, I realise this is the perfect lead-in to my news. The time has come, but there is a little paving of the way to be done first.
‘So, anyway, I’ve been thinking.’
‘Argh,’ he says in mock horror. ‘Not thinking! You know what happened the last time you did that.’
‘Funny.’ I give him a little punch on the shoulder, coming off worse because his shoulders seem to be made of iron. ‘Have you been working out?’ I ask, massaging the muscles under his jumper eagerly. He gives me a sexy smile, full of promise.
‘Down, girl. Can’t you wait a few more days until I’m officially yours.’
Officially mine.
What’s yours is mine. And what’s in my tummy right now is yours.
I take a deep, preparatory breath. Go on, Stella. You can do it.
‘Paul, how would you feel if I told you I’ve been thinking I’d like us to have a baby together?’
There are moments in life that define you – moments from which entire futures are carved out, where you can practically see the universe split into two. This is one such moment. I hold my breath, and wait for Paul to answer.
In one universe, he takes my hand, gazes deep into my eyes and says, ‘I would be honoured to have a child with you, Stella Hill-soon-to-be-Smart. Shall we head on upstairs to make a start on that right now?’
In the universe I unfortunately inhabit, he drops my hand and rolls about on the sofa laughing.
‘Oh, you kill me,’ he says, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
I might yet, if you carry on laughing at me.
‘What,’ I demand, ‘is so funny about you and me having a child together?’
‘Oh, you are so brilliant, Stella.’ He’s still smiling. He hasn’t clocked my expression yet. ‘You always know how to cheer me up. What?’
Now he’s noticed.
‘You’re not …’ Paul sits up straighter and leans back for a better look. ‘You’re not serious?’
‘Perfectly. And I fail to see why it’s so hysterically funny. We’re about to get married, we’re both in our prime. Why shouldn’t we talk about starting a family? It’s what couples do.’
‘Young couples starting out, maybe. But not us. We don’t need to
start a family, we already have one. I’ve got Hannah, and you’ve got Lipsy, and now you’ve got Phoenix too. Ah, I see.’ He purses his lips into a knowing smile.
‘What? What exactly do you see?’
‘Phoenix. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’
He walks over to where Phoenix is sleeping in his bassinet. I’ve yet to introduce them properly, but my grandson, peaceful and angelic on an embroidered white blanket, is perhaps the best ally I could have right now.
With my eyes I tell Paul to go on. I don’t trust myself to speak.
‘You’ve spent a week looking after a baby, and now you want one too.’ He laughs, and turns back to me. When he speaks again I hear relief in his voice. ‘Well, that makes perfect sense. Women are made that way, and Phoenix is your flesh and blood after all. But the thing you have to remember, Stella, is that you’re a grandmother now. You’ve moved up a stage. You don’t need to worry about sleepless nights and changing nappies and filling your house with bits of plastic. We’re free of all that. You can still enjoy the baby, we can even have him for sleepovers when he’s a bit older, and you’ve already promised Lipsy you’ll come back every weekend.’ Another laugh makes me wonder if he’s taken this weekend plan seriously at all.
‘We’re about to begin the rest of our lives together,’ he says softly. ‘God knows we’ve waited long enough.’
Like a woman drowning, scenes from the last twenty years flash before my eyes: Paul at school, so handsome and cool, walking across the playground with the sun behind him; the day I permed my hair and endured the ridicule of everyone except him, and the gratitude and pure love that flooded my teenage body when he stuck up for me; coming back to Milton Keynes and finding him again, glowering in the corner of a bar, all grown up and serious; his arms around me the day I realised John Dean had gone for good and I was all alone with a baby.
And the day he proposed: Christmas Day. Down on one knee at Willen Lake while I jumped around and blew on my hands to keep warm.
We have history, Paul and I. But in many ways we are still right at the beginning of our story.
‘Paul,’ I say now, ‘are you telling me you definitely, one hundred per cent, do not want to have children with me? Ever?’
His face takes on a pained but kindly expression. ‘Are you telling me you want to go through it all again? Really?’
I nod. He shakes his head.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, Stella. Our ages, the responsibility … And what about my new job? You’re not thinking about it sensibly, is all. What about all the plans we’ve made?’
‘Are they so important to you?’
What I mean is: Are they more important to you than having a family of our own?
‘Are you kidding me?’ Paul jumps up and stands with his back to the window. Lit from behind, I can’t see his eyes, but there’s something in his tone of voice that chills me. ‘This move means everything to us, Stella. I’m walking away from the business I started from scratch, you’ve handed in your notice. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been, seeing Smart Homes go under? But I’m letting go, I’m moving on. We both are. This is our adventure. Our chance to be together with no complications. Just the two of us.’
He stresses the last sentence and I wince. My hand slips automatically to my stomach, but Paul doesn’t notice. I hear Phoenix stirring in his bassinet. The last thing I need right now is for Paul to experience my grandson’s epic wails.
I pull Paul back down onto the sofa and hold his hands lightly, tentatively. ‘But can’t we make a new start
and
have a baby?’
‘No.’ This he almost shouts, back on his feet again. Phoenix stirs and mews softly. Now I can hear the low-level snorts and snuffles that precede a good cry. That’s the baby, by the way. Not Paul. Or me.
‘I just don’t think we can, Stella,’ Paul says, pacing. ‘And, to be honest, I don’t see why we would want to. Why would we want to ruin everything that way? What is this obsession with babies, anyway?’
I shush him with my eyes and a strained smile, pointing to the bassinet where Phoenix’s hands are starting to emerge above the blanket, reaching and grasping at fresh air.
‘Well, you see,’ Paul says, triumphant. ‘You can’t even have a proper conversation when there’s a baby around. How do you think you could do up a new house? How could I focus on my new job? Come on, Stella.’ He’s kneeling now, and reaching for my hand – a scene reminiscent of the one I just replayed in my head. ‘Tell me that this is just a silly joke. That part of our lives is over, isn’t it? And I, for one, am glad of it. I love Hannah, and I love Lipsy too. But I wouldn’t want to go backwards. Life is for moving on.’
‘But Paul,’ I say, desperately, keeping my voice low, ‘you didn’t even know Hannah as a baby. Don’t you feel you missed out? Wouldn’t you love to do it again, properly?’
This has always been a sore point between us, and I’m not surprised when Paul pulls away and hardens his face.
‘I’m a good dad to Hannah,’ he says stiffly. ‘And I would have been more if I’d had the chance. But there’s no point trying to rewrite the past, Stella. You more than anyone should know that.’
‘But, wouldn’t you …’ I trail off as, right on cue, Phoenix wakes up fully, realises his tummy is empty and begins to wail. I’m used to it – to my ears it’s just, ‘Hey, Grandma, where’s my bottle?’ But to Paul it’s like a thousand drills going off in his head while someone scrapes their nails down a chalkboard and plays a piano off key. I can tell by the look on his face – he really doesn’t like babies.
‘Come on, Phee,’ I whisper, picking the baby up and throwing Paul a sheepish smile. ‘He’s just hungry,’ I tell him. ‘He hardly ever cries apart from when he’s hungry.’
But there’s no point arguing with him now. The shutters have come down, and for Paul, the topic is closed. It’s not that he’s intractable. My lovely, kind, thoughtful Paul is simply scared.
Well, aren’t we all?
Besides, the more pressing question is this: How can I marry the man without telling him I’m pregnant? And how on earth can I tell him now?
*
From: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:38
Hi Stella,
Just wanted to say I’m sorry I rushed off earlier. I know we hadn’t finished talking properly but you had your hands full (!) and I figured it was best to leave you to it. I hope your last day at work went OK, did they all knit you a bed jacket like you thought? What even is a bed jacket, anyway?
I also wanted to say that I’m the luckiest man in the world, and I can’t wait to see you at the altar on Saturday. OK, so it’s not an altar, but you know what I mean. (We’re still on for lunch Thursday, right?)
This is our time, Stella. In a couple of weeks you’ll look back and laugh at all this baby nonsense. Phoenix looks like a right little bruiser
– he’s certainly got a good pair of lungs on him! I’m sure he and Lipsy and Robert will be more than fine without you.
All my love, Paul x
From: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:52
Dear Paul,
They did knit me a bed jacket and I plan to wear it every night so watch out! I’m clearly very old and past it now, in your eyes anyway, so I’m also going shopping for some incontinence pads and booking in at the dentist’s to get a set of false teeth.
This isn’t easy to say, but I know you’ll be great about it because you care about me and only want what’s best for us. I’m having second thoughts about leaving Lipsy and the baby so soon. I know we’ve been through it a hundred times, but you never really listened when I told you how anxious I was. I don’t think it will make much difference if I stay behind for a month or two while you get things going in Derby. We can visit at weekends. You wouldn’t mind this too much, would you? (Please say it’s OK.) I just want to be here for Lipsy. It’s a mum thing.
I can’t wait to be Mrs Smart, Paul. You know I’ve waited so long for this. I’ve got my dress hanging up right here (wait till you see it), and I can’t believe that at 38 I’m finally going to be an ‘honest woman’.
Love Stella xxxxxxx
PS: Let’s talk about all this on Thursday – now’s not the time to make any rash decisions.
From: [email protected]
Date: 20 February 2012 21:58
Stella, I’m afraid I have to say no way. I just tried to call but you must have your phone on silent – I guess you don’t want to wake the baby. (See what I mean?) It’s not OK for you to stay behind, this is our fresh start and I don’t want to do it without you. I know you are anxious about Lipsy and the baby, I have listened to you go on and on about it for months, but really don’t you think you’re making too much of it? You do have a tendency to think that no one can manage without you
– look at what you were like with your mum last year, paying all her bills and the rest of it. Can’t you just look to the future?
I love you. I’m sorry that I don’t want to have any more babies, but I don’t believe you want that either, Stella. Not really. It’s time to know yourself, my love. Stop hiding from the truth and really look at yourself.
Anyway, I’ll see you on Thursday. All this is just nerves, isn’t it? In a couple of days you’ll feel completely different, I promise.
Paul x
Chapter 7
In a couple of days you’ll feel completely different, he said. Well, now it’s three days on, and I’m afraid I don’t.
I sat up late on Monday night and read his last email three times, allowing the words to sink in. Seems my dad isn’t the only person who thinks I’ve got an omnipotence complex.
Know yourself. Stop hiding from the truth. Well, that’s all well and good, but if no one’s going to listen to you then knowing yourself seems a bit pointless. I’ve always known what I wanted: Paul, definitely, but here, with my family around us and that sense of continuity that comes from seeing the same landscape day after day, and being surrounded by memories. Maybe losing everything in the fire damaged my ability to start afresh. Or maybe I really am a coward. Whatever the reason, Paul’s instruction to be honest with myself has made me face one uncomfortable truth: I do not want to relocate to Derby.