‘Nooooooooo,’ Ali cut across him trying to ride out the pain. ‘I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.’ She panted, which seemed to ease the twisting, knifing pain that was radiating from the top of her belly through the small of her back and down to her knees. ‘It’s. Just. Practice. Contractions.’ It was getting hard to speak.
‘Really?’ Blake looked doubtful and disgusted in equal measure.
At last the violent pain seemed to ebb and Ali could straighten up a bit. She checked the time. Only six minutes since the previous one. She tried to shrug the thought away. It’s not happening now. It’s not. No one’s that unlucky, Ali. They said the practice pains could be bad. She reset the timer again to be on the safe side.
‘Ali? You dilating, hun?’ Blake said with a smirk, echoing the night at the Glossies WildCard launch when this whole mess had begun.
‘No.’ Ali was firm. ‘Definitely not.’
‘Good, ’cos I’d say the only worse place to push out a baby would be the deck of the bloody Titanic.’ He pursed his lips.
Ali opted to ignore that. She felt as if she’d just been returned to her body after that attack of agony. ‘When did you arrive? What the hell happened? Did you see Hazel?’
‘Oh no, she was long gone by the time we were abandoned here. Dead to me. Holistic Hoe, more like. Though, I suppose I don’t have the full picture just yet. Word on the dusty track is that the Ezra guy totally screwed her. He was feeding her the same bullshit we all got about how amazing it was all looking and she just never bothered her bleached hole coming out and checking on progress. So, when she landed this morning it was the first time she’d seen this dumpster fire. Appara she did have a look around to see if it was salvageable. I met a girl earlier who said the Caffeine Colonics were the only thing available, but there was an early casualty there – let’s just say running water is an ESSENTIAL component of that treatment and some poor bitch was juiced up but couldn’t get a rinse for love nor money. Not pretty. If we all survive this, the coverage is going to be savage. I’ve been filming everything. I’m going to pitch it as a doc to RTÉ. I’m calling it From WELL to HELL. And Back.’
‘Love it!’ Ali leaned closer. ‘Listen, I heard a farmer giving out about someone stealing a lamb from his land. Hazel always said Inis Brí was uninhabited, so he had to have come across by boat. I lost him in the crowd, but we have got to find him and convince him to get us out of here.’
‘Thank Jaysus, culchie excellence will save us—’
‘Blake?’ Ali grabbed at him, the surging torment having come back. He took her arms again while also managing to hold her at bay. ‘Blaaaaaake.’ The noises coming out of her didn’t sound like she was even making them. She could see Julia Roberts at their feet looking up at her perplexed. ‘Blaaa … aaaa … keee, I feel. Like. My. Ass. Is. Gonna. Ex. Plode.’
‘Ali??? Hun???’ Blake sounded scared. ‘These are Margiela, babes.’ He lifted a distressed trainer gingerly. ‘Can I just stand a little further back?’
‘Noooooooooo,’ Ali howled and dug her nails into the flesh of his arms.
‘NAILS, Aliiiiiiiiiii!!!’ Blake howled with her just as Ali felt an unmistakable crack inside her followed by a gush of fluid. Blake managed to leap clear of the deluge, but Julia Roberts wasn’t so lucky.
‘OH my fucking gee, JULIA ROBERTS!’ Blake wailed, scooping up the cat and just as quickly dropping her, as it hit him what she was drenched in.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Ali gasped. The pain had receded but was immediately replaced by abject terror. ‘The baby is coming, Blake.’ How could this be happening?
‘Mother of God.’ Blake made the sign of the cross. ‘You and Julia Roberts stay here. I’m going to find someone. Cross your legs or something. Oh God.’
‘Please don’t leave me,’ Ali pleaded, feeling the pressure building and radiating down to her knees again but he’d already hurried off. She got on the ground so she wouldn’t fall over. ‘I’m going to shit myself,’ she whimpered to the cat.
She was far enough from the clearing that none of the festival goers were in danger of tripping over her but, if Blake didn’t get back quick, she felt sure the baby would erupt out of its own accord. I don’t even have a blanket or anti-bac! The pressure was insane, but she couldn’t see what was going on back there. Had she already shit herself? Thank God it was dark. She started to cry between gasping breaths. It was so terrifyingly out of control. Don’t come, baby, don’t come yet. She tried to remember anything she’d ever gleaned from One Born Every Minute, then she thought of the YouTube tutorial Sam had downloaded and sent to her. Please let me have saved it to the phone.
She waited for the current swell of agony to subside and grabbed her phone. She found the video in her downloads. Birth: Epic How To was the title. It opened on a man.
‘Welcome to our Epic How To for giving birth. Step 1: Go to a HOSPITAL.’
‘Oh fuck youuuuuuuuu,’ Ali screamed as another contraction took hold.
‘If you are watching this while in labour, I cannot urge you enough to go to a hospital.’
Ali clenched and pounded her fists through the longest contraction so far. ‘AaaAAAAAggghhhh. I need to push. What do I need to do when I wanna push?’ she screamed at the phone.
Finally, the pain relented but Ali didn’t think she could hold out much longer. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
‘You can see her too, right? It looks like she’s in labour.’
With the momentary reprieve between contractions, Ali noticed a small crowd gathered off to her right.
‘Yeah, I see her,’ whispered one of the crowd. ‘I thought I was hallucinating from the Easy Singles – my system’s not up to processed food. But she is there. Can you see the cat too?’
‘Oh c’mon,’ Ali hissed through clenched teeth, more to herself than anyone in particular. She didn’t want anyone near her right now, except a doctor.
‘Ali! Ali!’ Blake hurried through the crowd, phone out and filming. ‘I found Sean Óg – he’s the farmer.’
‘Oh thank God!’ Ali cried as another contraction reared up. Now whatever else happened, here was an adult with some scrap of common sense. She dug once more into the earth and howled. The crowd to the right had started up a supportive chant of ‘This pussy be yankin’, this pussy be yankin’.’ Which was weirdly working for Ali. She couldn’t hold back now: the contraction seemed to have taken over and she found she was pushing whether she wanted to or not.
‘Right, let’s get her to one of the caravans – they’re just through these trees,’ Sean Óg instructed Blake. Between them they carried her, and Ali didn’t even have the will to worry about what state she was in south of the equator. She was still in their arms when the next contraction hit. She squirmed and moaned but Blake and Sean Óg held fast. They hustled her through the narrow door of the caravan and set her on the floor of the living room area.
Blake ran to the door and screamed into the crowd, who’d jogged with them from the clearing, ‘Anyone out there have towels, water, anti-bac gel, Jesus, anything clean?’ he implored. ‘Even a tarpaulin, bring it back here. We’re havin’ a baby.’