War Torn (58 page)

‘Your blood pressure would be just as high. Actually, it drops on some women the minute their husband walks out of the room. Now the best thing you can do for yourself and Baby is close your eyes, breathe slowly and relax.’

Jenny tried to close her eyes, breathe slowly and relax. But her heart was beating ludicrously, as if there was something big and scary in the room. And maybe there was. Her own loneliness. Dave’s absence. The knowledge that she was bringing a child into the world and it would be a long time before he even knew about it. She felt hot water fall from her eyes, as though whatever was driving up her blood pressure was squeezing out her tears too.

Later, someone came in. Another nurse, another blood pressure check. She kept her eyes clamped shut. But whoever was here did
not take her blood pressure. They were standing in the room silently, watching her.

‘Who is it?’ she asked.

‘It no one really,’ said a small voice.

‘Agnieszka!’

‘Oh my God, Jenny, I come at wrong time. I bring you flowers! I thought you ill in hospital. Then they say this is birthing room. I didn’t know you have baby right now!’

Jenny opened her eyes and smiled.

‘Agnieszka, give me a hug. I’ve never been so pleased to see anyone.’

Agnieszka leaned close in her squeaking leather jacket and jangling earrings.

‘But you have baby now, this minute!’

‘Not yet, they’ve only just induced me. Will you stay with me a while? Where’s Luke?’

Agnieszka put the flowers on a shelf.

‘Friend waits with him in car park.’

Jenny had never seen Agnieszka with a friend. Except that man.

‘You’d better not stay too long then,’ she said.

‘Oh, Jenny, you have baby all alone?’

‘My mum or Adi or someone should get here soon . . .’

‘I stay till they arrive.’

She felt ridiculously grateful. She suddenly loved Agnieszka, for the way she stood so shyly, put the flowers where Jenny couldn’t see them and then picked up her hand and squeezed it tight.

‘God, it awful that Dave can’t phone. I think our boys are now far away from base because I have no telephone call for days.’

‘Yeah. They’re out of contact for a while.’

Jenny bit her lip and fought tears. Agnieszka did the same but less successfully.

‘These men! They say they love us. Then they leave us to have baby alone!’

Jenny thought of how Agnieszka struggled daily to deal with Luke’s fits and his anger. ‘And then they leave us to bring them up alone.’

Agnieszka nodded sadly.

‘Dishwasher break. Gutter water run down wall. Drain blocked
so bath full for hours. Things fall down. Buggy squeak. And where are men? In Afghanistan.’

They smiled at each other. Then Jenny watched Agnieszka’s face dissolve into shooting stars.

‘Why baby come so early?’

‘My blood pressure’s gone bananas. It’s called pre-eclampsia.’

‘I know this thing. I was nurse in Poland.’

‘You’re a nurse!’ Jenny realized that she didn’t know Agnieszka at all. They had never talked about her life in Poland, as if she hadn’t really existed before she came to England.

‘I come here so I never finish training. Sometimes I think that, if Jamie here to help, I continue training in England. But how is this possible with Jamie away?’

‘OK,’ said the midwife, bustling in with a file. ‘Is this your birthing partner?’

‘No, I stay until partner arrive,’ said Agnieszka.

‘Sorry, you’ll have to go now,’ the midwife told her. ‘We can’t have people coming in and out.’

Agnieszka looked pale and distraught as she hugged Jenny.

‘Good luck,’ she whispered as she left.

‘Right.’ The midwife was brisk. ‘I have to take your blood pressure and we hope it’s dropped. Then I’ll check your dilation and we hope it’s increased.’

‘Supposing it’s the other way around?’

‘Then it’s a C-section I’m afraid.’

‘I don’t want a Caesarean!’

The midwife took her blood pressure and pulled a face.

‘You’ve got to do what’s right for you and Baby. Which means you may not have a choice. I’ll call the doctor now and I think he’ll say he wants you in theatre right away. To be perfectly honest, I think they’re ready for you in there.’

Jenny burst into tears.

‘It’s not the end of the world,’ said the midwife. ‘A lot of women ask for them.’

‘But there’s no one here with me!’

The midwife smiled.

‘Only an obstetrician, an anaesthetist, a midwife, God knows
how many theatre staff and two paediatricians. You can’t be lonely in a crowd like that.’

But they’re all strangers
, thought Jenny.

After a mumbled conversation at the door the doctor nodded to a porter and Jenny was swept off along a hospital corridor towards the operating theatre.

ANGUS
AND
FINN
WERE
ON
STAG
TOGETHER
AGAIN.

‘Just one more day here,’ said Finn. ‘Topaz Zero has promised we can go back to Sin City as soon as Emily’s results are right, and they’re almost right.’

‘Great,’ Angus said, without enthusiasm.

‘They can’t keep us here any longer because Marty needs a crap. He’s not going to use the oil drums out in the open like everyone else. And Emily won’t let him use her toilet.’

‘He hasn’t had a crap all week?’

‘Nope. His bowels are probably silted up with sand.’

It was morning. The Early Rocks were at their clearest, lit up from the east. And the desert didn’t look so flat when the sun was at this angle, lighting its contours. Across the camp the hills were mysterious with morning shadows.

‘He had a talk with me,’ said Angry suddenly.

‘Topaz Zero? About his bowels?’

‘No, Finn. About my dad.’

Finn had been scanning the hillside to discourage Angus from seeing things there. But now he swung round to look at his mate. ‘Your dad?’

Angus did not meet his gaze.

‘You know all about it. You’re the only one who does.’

Finn turned back to the hillside.

‘All about what?’ he asked cautiously.

‘Finny, stop pissing about. Masud told you and Martyn about my dad.’

‘And Martyn’s told you. What a fucking shit! Why did he do that?’

‘You didn’t tell anyone else?’

‘No, Angry. Fuck it, I didn’t even tell you!’

‘Why not? We’ve come to blows before now over my dad.’

‘Because he’s your hero. I wasn’t going to take that away from you.’

Finn looked at Angus and saw the pinched look of sleepless nights and disappointments.

‘Masud might not be right, Angry.’

Angus’s face twisted. ‘That my dad was a cook, nothing more? I believe him.’

‘Why?’

‘Well . . . things.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like, I never saw my dad’s medals and he always said they’d been stolen. I thought it was weird that he never tried to get them back. And . . . he told me a load of shit which didn’t sound right. But I tried not to fucking notice.’

Finn took a deep breath.

‘Going to have it out with him?’

‘I’ve been lying in my cot at night thinking about killing him.’

Finn said: ‘I want to kill Martyn. Why did he have to tell you?’

‘First off I hated him for it. But now I think he was right when he said I was living under my dad’s shadow. He said I should crawl out from behind it. See, I kept thinking I was seeing movement over by those boulders. And that was because I was looking extra hard. Because I wanted to be extra sharp.’

‘What’s going on down there?’ asked Finn suddenly.

They looked across the camp. There was a small commotion. Sergeant Dave Henley seemed to be at the centre of it.

The OC called Dave over to his poncho. Here at Jackpot with its heat and inactivity and civilians moving freely among them, there was a new informality. The major was wearing body armour with shorts and flipflops. There were papers spread all over his
sleeping bag and the day was so airless they didn’t even flutter.

The major said: ‘I’ve got some news for you.’

Jenny.
Dave felt his body turn to stone. Everything inside it that had been moving, the blood running, the cells growing, stopped for a moment.

The major’s tone was hesitant. It must be bad news.

‘Congratulations, Dave. You are the father of a new baby girl.’ The OC’s face broke into an enormous smile. Dave took a breath in but could not breathe out again until he knew more.

‘And Jenny? Is she all right?’

‘The baby was delivered by Caesarean section because of some kind of emergency. But she’s doing well now.’

The news knocked Dave from behind. His knees almost went from under him. He reached out and held onto a tent pole. A baby girl. And Jenny was fine. Something was banging away behind his eyes. Shit, it was tears. Tears of relief and tears of joy. He turned away from the major in embarrassment while he fought with himself to contain his feelings.

Major Willingham coughed.

‘I wish we had more information. I wish you were able to speak to her. I understand you knew that she’s been very ill and this week must have been hell for you, Dave, unable to communicate. Like a true professional, you gave no indication.’

Where did all this emotion come from? It appeared so suddenly, and with such a fucking intensity, that it must have been contained somewhere inside him waiting to explode. When the wagon had blown up at the beginning of their tour, he had felt like a rag doll thrown across it. Now he was a powerless rag doll again. But this blast came from inside him.

The major said carefully: ‘When my children were born, I probably cried more than they did.’

Permission to cry. Well, Dave didn’t want it. He was not going to give in to tears in front of the OC. He closed his eyes and thought of Jenny, lying in bed with a tiny baby lying on top of her, the way she had been with Vicky. He thought how much he loved her and Vicky and the new baby. The little girl had a passport to his love, an automatic right of entry, and he didn’t need to see her to know that. She was his baby and Jenny’s, and a new birth brought with
it the joy of hope and possibility. It didn’t matter where in the world you were, that joy was the same. And now all the worry was over because everyone was safe.

‘I gather there is an email on its way with pictures which I will show you as soon as we get back to base,’ said the major, stepping forward to shake his hand vigorously. ‘Congratulations. Warm congratulations.’

Dave managed to speak, although there was a thick crust around his voice. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘It’s very hard for you, not having access to a phone. As soon as we get back . . .’

‘Yes, sir.’

Dave wandered off into the camp, dazed. A number of people had seen the OC shaking his hand.

‘Everything all right?’ asked Iain Kila. ‘Got some news?’

Dave nodded and told him. He managed to keep his voice on a railway track, straight and strong, so it couldn’t be shunted by emotion. Kila pumped his hand and Dave was startled to see that the big, hard man had damp eyes.