Three Amazing Things About You (40 page)

Tasha pressed her foot against Rory’s under the table. They smiled at each other. Aloud, she said, ‘Oh it definitely has.’

‘OK, now
push
,’ ordered the older, slightly bossier midwife.

‘I don’t want to. It
huuuuurts
.’

Flo gasped and grabbed the bed rail as another great wave of pain squeezed her insides with a tightening iron grip.

‘Come on, nearly there now, you can do it.’ The younger midwife was stroking her arm, taking on the good-cop role and being encouraging.

‘I can’t, I can’t.’ Flo shook her head as perspiration trickled down her temples into her ears. But she knew they were right. It might seem physically impossible, but somehow, in the next few minutes, she was going to have to give birth to a baby.

The older midwife was checking the monitors. ‘Here we go, here comes the next contraction. Let’s do it now.’

Gathering herself, willing herself on and clutching the younger midwife’s hand, Flo took a huge breath and embarked on the task of squeezing an actual human being out of her own body . . .

And then, in a sweaty blur of noise and lights and hands and pressure and unbelievable pain, it happened in a whoosh of slippery wetness and an outraged wail of just-born dismay.

‘Oh my God . . .’ Flo’s voice cracked as the older midwife cut the cord, gave the baby a brisk wipe with a towel and placed it on her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes and a great sob escaped her lungs, but she was laughing too, overwhelmed with the emotions she’d been warned would swamp her, but which she hadn’t been prepared for because how could you know they’d be this overwhelming?

‘Well done.’ The older midwife was smiling, no longer bossy. ‘You did it. You’ve got yourself a beautiful baby girl.’

And now Flo was crying and laughing in earnest, because the mixture of emotions was truly extraordinary, but the overriding one was joy. Several people had told her over the course of the past months that Zander would be with her in spirit when she gave birth to his child, but they’d just been trying to make her feel better. In reality she couldn’t feel his spirit. He would have loved to be here, but he wasn’t. She still missed him dreadfully, but she would cope alone without him. She wasn’t the first to find herself in this situation, nor would she be the last. But she had Zander’s baby and that was a miracle. In so many ways she’d been incredibly lucky.

And what was breathtaking was the resemblance to Zander. As they gazed intently at each other, Flo was struck by more and more similiarities . . . from the long, dark, spiky lashes to the shape of those cobalt-blue eyes, from the precise angle of the dark eyebrows to the curve of the upper lip.

‘Hello,’ Flo whispered, her mouth brushing the baby’s forehead as she held her close. ‘You’re my baby and I’m your mum.’ She breathed in the smell of her daughter’s newborn skin and examined her tiny, almost translucent fingers. ‘Look at you, you’re
perfect
.’

The room off the main ward contained just two beds. Flo suspected she’d been allocated it in order to make her feel less left out when visiting time came around and all the fathers trooped in bearing flowers, helium balloons and presents for their wives or girlfriends.

Instead she was sharing with a pretty, down-to-earth single mother of three who’d been let down yet again by the father of her newest baby.

‘Swear to God I thought I’d found a decent one at last,’ Ceecee had already confided. ‘He was good with the other kids, didn’t like football . . . even had a job, which made a nice change, I can tell you. He seemed to be happy enough when I fell pregnant with this one. I was made up, reckoned he was a keeper. Then last month he started going out every night . . . not ideal, but I didn’t nag him about it.’ She pulled a face. ‘But two weeks ago he went out and didn’t come back. Sent me a text the next day saying it was over and he was seeing someone else. Not even a sorry, cheeky sod. So here we are, back to square one again, just me and the kids coping with it like we always do. Still, they’re the important ones, aren’t they? As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.’

‘True.’ Flo nodded, impressed by Ceecee’s sanguine attitude. Life might not work out as you’d want it to, but you just got on with it anyway.

‘Look, sorry about your chap,’ said Ceecee. ‘The nurses told me what happened, probably to stop me sticking my big foot in it and saying something awful without realising.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Have you got a photo of him so I can see what he looked like?’

‘I have.’ Flo reached into her bag for her phone.

‘I’ll show you mine and you can show me yours.’ Taking out her own phone, Ceecee began scrolling through a sea of pictures, then came and sat on Flo’s bed, next to her. ‘There he is, that’s Matt.’

Matt was lying across a leather sofa, wearing a pink polo shirt and jeans, grinning cheekily into the camera and making a peace sign. Flo in turn showed Ceecee the photo she’d taken of her and Zander up on the Downs with the suspension bridge behind them and the hot air balloon drifting overhead.

‘Ah, that’s lovely. He looks really nice,’ said Ceecee. ‘What d’you think of mine, then?’

What could she say? ‘He looks nice too,’ said Flo.

‘You reckon?’ Ceecee gave her a cheery nudge. ‘Ha, looks like a no-good cheating bastard to me.’

‘Oh my darling, look at you!’ Margot entered the side ward like a queen, on the arm of one of the nursing staff. ‘You are
glowing
.’ She gave Flo a gin-scented kiss on the cheek before settling herself carefully on one of the visitor’s chairs. ‘Now, let’s see this baby of yours. Oh I say, hello, Alexandra. You’re a beauty! Can I have a hold?’

Flo passed Alexandra over to her. There was something particularly lovely about seeing a newborn baby being cradled in the arms of an octogenarian. Her heart expanded with love and pride as Margot admired her daughter, now twelve hours old.

‘How did you get here? By taxi?’

‘No, Patrick brought me. He’s gone to park the car. Everyone from Nairn House sends their love, of course. You’ll get all manner of strange knitted items sent to you, I’m sure. But seeing as I don’t knit, I thought Alexandra might like these from me.’

Flo opened the faded leather jeweller’s box. There, nestling amongst the folds of ivory satin, lay a pair of diamond stud earrings, small but perfectly formed. ‘Oh my goodness, Margot, you can’t give me these!’

‘They’re not for you, they’re for her. And I insist.’ Margot’s dark eyes softened. ‘Give them to her on her eighteenth birthday. I’ll be dead long before that, but it’s nice to think of them being worn again by a pretty young girl. My parents gave them to me when I was twenty-one. I wore them when I was presented at court. No, don’t look at me like that. I want your daughter to enjoy them. And please don’t try to argue with me, because we both know you won’t win.’

‘Well in that case, thank you. They’re beautiful. It’s the nicest present anyone’s ever given her.’ Flo leaned over and hugged Margot again.

‘And how are you feeling, my darling?’

‘Happy and sad. I’m doing OK.’

‘You’ll be fine, I know you will. You’re a coper,’ Margot pronounced.

‘Here’s Patrick.’ Flo waved as he hesitated in the doorway. ‘Hi, come on in.’

She’d seen Patrick a couple of times at Nairn House before going on maternity leave. His relationship with aerobics instructor Jade had run out of steam before Christmas, and Patrick was now unrepentantly wearing his untrendy trousers and favourite old shirts once more.

‘Congratulations. Here’s a little something for the baby.’ He handed Flo one of the smart cardboard bags from the shop. ‘Sorry it’s not diamonds.’

It was a tiny pink and green woolly hat with knitted roses and leaves attached.

‘That is gorgeous,’ said Flo, touched. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘And I did buy you a bunch of tulips on my way over to Nairn House, but I left them on the roof of the car when I was fiddling with my keys. Next thing I knew, I was heading down the dual carriageway and they’d fallen into the road behind me.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Got run over by a Tesco delivery truck.’

‘Never mind. It’s the thought that counts,’ Flo said with a smile.

‘Well?’ Margot was holding Alexandra up so he could admire her. ‘What do you think?’

‘She looks like a baby.’

‘That’s not good enough, Patrick!’

He winked at Flo. ‘She looks . . . lovely. Well done.’

‘Typical man,’ Margot tut-tutted good-naturedly. ‘Now come along, take lots of photos of us so I can show everyone when I get back. I feel like a proud grandmother.’

Patrick said to Flo, ‘How was the . . . you know, the whole giving-birth thing?’

‘Pretty excruciating. Would you like me to describe it in revolting technicolour detail?’

He winced. ‘Maybe not.’

Thirty minutes later, Lena arrived. She looked from Margot to Patrick and said, ‘Who are you?’

‘They’re my friends,’ Flo explained patiently. ‘Margot lives at Nairn House. Patrick’s her nephew.’

‘Right. Well I was going to buy something for the baby, but I didn’t know what. So I didn’t get anything.’

‘That’s fine,’ said Flo.

Lena, catching the look Margot was exchanging with Patrick, said, ‘What did you get for it, then?’

‘Diamond stud earrings,’ replied Margot easily. ‘From Cartier.’

‘Well that’s just barbaric.’ Lena’s eyes narrowed. ‘Babies shouldn’t have their ears pierced; it’s a ridiculous idea.’

‘You must be Lena.’ Patrick reached across to shake her hand. ‘We’ve heard all about you.’

‘Oh. Well if she’s said anything bad, just ignore her. It’s not true.’

Flo said, ‘Would you like to meet Alexandra?’ because so far Lena hadn’t so much as glanced at her new niece.

‘Who? Oh, the baby. Let’s have a look at it then.’

‘It’s a girl,’ Flo reminded her, tilting Alexandra towards Lena so she could see her properly. ‘Would you like to hold her?’

‘No thanks. Bit small. Might drop it.’ Lena turned and gazed at the baby for several seconds. Finally she said, ‘No need for a DNA test, then.’

Had she seriously been planning one? Then again, with Lena, anything was possible.

Gently, Flo said, ‘There was never any need for a DNA test.’

‘Suppose not.’ Lena heaved a sigh. ‘Go on then, I’ll hold her for a bit.’

Flo passed the baby over and showed Lena how to support the back of her head. ‘There you go. Don’t worry, you’re doing fine.’

Lena’s expression softened. ‘She looks just like Zander.’

‘She really does.’

‘I miss him so much.’ A tear was glimmering now in her eye.

‘I know.’ Flo nodded; it had been tough for Lena too. She’d known and loved Zander for six months, but he’d been Lena’s brother for thirty-four years.

‘I’ve never held a baby before,’ said Lena. ‘It feels quite nice.’

Smiling, Flo said, ‘It does, doesn’t it?’

‘Who’s looking after Jeremy while you’re in hospital?’

‘Sarah from the downstairs flat.’

‘You could always ask me to keep an eye on him, you know. I’m not a cat murderer.’

Let’s hope not
.

Aloud, Flo said, ‘I know, but Sarah’s right there. It’s easy for her to pop in. And I’ll probably be going home tomorrow.’

It had come as a terrible shock to Lena when she’d first learned from Mary, the solicitor, that Zander’s baby would now be inheriting his estate. But to her credit, she’d slowly come round to the idea. Flo had agreed that she could carry on living in Zander’s flat, and she seemed grateful for that. As Mary had crisply pointed out during their meeting, she was lucky to still have a roof over her head.

Lena nodded. ‘OK. What time do you two think you’ll be leaving here this evening?’

She was addressing Patrick, who pushed back his sleeve and checked his watch. ‘Another half-hour? Visiting ends at eight.’

‘So would you be able to give me a lift back to Clifton?’ said Lena. ‘I had to catch a bus to get here this evening. It was awful.’

Amused by her shudder of distaste, Patrick nodded. ‘That’s fine, it’s not far out of our way.’

‘Thanks.’ Lena was now looking askance at his shirtsleeves. ‘Your cuffs are
frayed
.’

Patrick kept a straight face. ‘I’m afraid they are. Frayed.’

‘But why would you wear them like that?’ Lena was evidently horrified. ‘You look like a tramp! Why don’t you buy a new shirt?’

‘I like this one.’ Neither remotely bothered nor taking offence, Patrick added, ‘It’s my favourite.’

‘But looking good is important. Trust me, when this baby’s old enough to wear proper clothes, I’m going to make sure she looks stylish. These things
matter
.’

He shrugged. ‘To you, maybe. Not to me.’

‘You should make more of an effort,’ Lena retorted.

‘You sound like my ex-wife,’ said Patrick.

Flo, sitting up in bed with Alexandra cradled in her arms, loved the way Patrick refused to be intimidated by Lena. She exchanged a secret smile with Margot.

‘I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking,’ said Lena.

‘And I don’t care. So if you don’t want to catch that bus back to Clifton,’ said Patrick, ‘it might be time to start keeping your thoughts to yourself.’

Oh yes, he knew how to handle her all right.

‘OK, I’m off. Busy day. Some of us work normal hours.’

Tasha opened her eyes and smiled sleepily up at Rory. It was seven fifteen and he was already showered and dressed for work. She lifted her head for a kiss. ‘Serves you right for having a normal job. I don’t have to get to mine till midday.’

‘Lucky you. I’ll be home by six.’ Another kiss. ‘See you later.’

‘Bye.’

When he’d let himself out of the house, Tasha texted Sandra, the photographer she was booked to be working with today. One of the better tabloids was running a feature in its Sunday magazine and they were often chosen to do jobs together.
Hi, just double-checking. The Carrick Hotel in Chelsea at noon, right?

A minute later, Sandra texted back:
That’s it. See you there x

The Carrick Hotel was on Park Lane, with amazing views over Hyde Park. Red London buses, black cabs and thousands of cars made their way past in an endless stream. Over in the park itself, people were jogging, strolling, walking their dogs and . . . yes, picking up dog poo.