‘I love you, baby Betina,’ I whispered, edging as close to her as I could get. There’d never been any question she’d be named after the woman who had saved my life when I was banged up.
Looking at her, I couldn’t understand how my parents could do that to me. How they could just walk away from me just because I’d gone to prison. I’d had her two days and I knew there was nowhere else on Earth I would rather be than by her side. ‘I love you and I am never going to let anyone hurt you,’ I promised this tiny being who I was charged to take care of. ‘I am going to protect you from everyone and everything. I am going to love you and love you and love you. I am going to make sure you have everything you ever want and that the world is kind to you.’
I know you will, a voice said in my head. I looked up and saw her standing there – a shimmering, shining figure. This wasn’t like when Marcus used to come to me, this was nice. This was my best friend smiling at me, radiant and ethereal, as she should have been, could have been if the world hadn’t spent so much time beating her down.
‘Is it really you?’ I asked, my voice a whisper, my hope teetering on the edge of despair.
Course, she replied. Had to see the little one, didn’t I? Had to see you in all your glory.
‘I’ve called her Betina,’ I said, accepting that this was Tina and she was here to see me. She’d found a way to come to me when I needed her.
Good name, Ice Cream Girl. Good name.
‘I wish you were here to see her properly,’ I sobbed suddenly, the big, fat, gloopy tears coming from nowhere and drizzling down my face. ‘I wish it had worked out for us.’
I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.
I nodded. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Who are you talking to?’ Alain asked, suddenly appearing beside me, all gowned up to keep the area as sterile as possible.
I glanced briefly at Tina, she waved a little goodbye, before she disappeared.
‘Betina, of course,’ I replied to Alain. ‘Who else would I be talking to?’
March, 2013
‘Do you want to come home with us?’ I asked him.
Betina was spending her third day in an incubator and I wanted something to be normal. Settled. I loved living alone, had taken to it in a way I didn’t realise was possible. Being in charge of me and having Alain come over whenever was the ideal situation. But when we eventually left the hospital with our daughter, it’d be perfect if he came home with us.
‘Of course I’m coming home with you.’
‘I mean, do you want to come home and stay with us for good? Move in and be a family at the flat?’
‘Really?’
‘I keep looking at her and I keep thinking what if I don’t get to bring her home? What do I do? And then I think, what if I do get to bring her home? What do I do? And then I realised that with either scenario, you being there would be ideal.’
He slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. He was so good at that, so casually loving. He was going to be a great father. ‘I would absolutely love to move in with you two.’ He kissed the top of my head. ‘And we’re going to take her home. Of course we’re going to take her home.’
Now
‘Don’t be a stranger,’ I tell my brother as we stand outside the train station. I’m going to jump on the train back to Hove and he’s going off to wherever his girlfriend lives. He’s pretending he’s going to his flat in Rottingdean but he’s absolutely not.
‘She’s younger than me,’ he says suddenly. ‘That’s one complication. Another complication is that her parents would not approve so we’re keeping things quiet for now. Actually, I kind of gave her an ultimatum about coming clean, going public, and it went the wrong way. So we’re taking some time. Which makes it all the more difficult to talk about her.’
A few drinks and talking about other things have released these revelations.
‘I’m really sorry. I had no idea. What are you going to do?’
‘Wait until she changes her mind, I suppose. Nothing else I can do, really. I love her so much, Pops. She is everything, and I suppose I’m having a hard time believing she doesn’t feel the same way.’
‘She probably does, but if you say her parents wouldn’t approve, then that’s probably a big thing for her. Especially if she’s . . . you know, “young” like you say.’
‘Whoa there, Poppy, she’s not that young. Only ten, twelve years younger. Not like it was with you. I’m not him. Not all men are like him.’
‘I know that,’ I reply. I hate that Marcus gets brought up at all, but I especially hate that someone like Logan has to say that. That Logan has to put himself in the same frame as Marcus because I was once-upon-a-time involved with him and he knows what happened.
I know not all men are like Marcus, not all men will let you down like Alain, and I hate that my brother sometimes feels that he has to remind me there are good men out there.
‘I wasn’t suggesting that. I mean, early twenties and if she’s close enough to her family to be worried what they think, then that’s still young. That’s still being torn between you and what her family will say. She’s probably going through the agonies right now, wondering what the best thing to do is.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
‘Of course I’m right. It’ll work out, I promise.’
‘Right, I’d better go. Give my love to Alain.’
‘I will. Try not to worry, Loges, it’ll work out, I just know it will.’
My brother gives me a wan smile and goes towards the taxi rank at the back of the station, while I find my platform to get back to Hove. I’m sure it’ll work out for him, even if it didn’t work out for Alain and me.
September, 2017
Although we’d lived together in my flat for nearly five years, I still knocked whenever I went to Alain’s house in Poet’s Corner. He’d taken to going there to work because our four-year-old was into everything. She would run around, she would climb, she would ask questions, she would demand we play with her . . . she would basically make working from home impossible. It was joyous, but not helpful for him.
We were in between tenants at his house, so he was staying there to work for longer and longer periods.
‘Coming!’ the voice on the other side of the door called. I frowned, looked up at the door number, to double-check I was in the right place. The voice on the other side of the door was—
Obviously she was wearing a towel. One of the blue-and-white ones Bella bought us when I officially moved in with Alain. It wasn’t one of the bigger-sized towels, so it barely concealed her very shapely form. Her blonde hair was ‘casually’ piled up on her head, and droplets of water glistened on her shoulders. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, Betina was with my parents, and a naked woman had just answered the door to my partner’s house.
I curled my fingers into the palms of my hands, took a couple of deep breaths. Prison Poppy would be considering whether to hit first and ask questions later or not. I was wondering if that numb feeling I was experiencing was a heart attack or not. ‘Is, erm, is Alain here?’ I asked calmly.