It was not what she had imagined, Mel distraught, begging forgiveness, but it was something, telling the boy, who seemed to hear her. She felt calmer, relieved, physically soothed, as if she had cleaned the house and thrown away the rubbish. Her world was tidier now. There was space to think and move. She could look forward. Even the rain had eased. Yet as she tried to reassure herself, edging through the traffic on Blackstock Road towards Islington and Holborn, she felt her body tense. Pain shot through her groin. Surely it could not start now? Over the last two weeks it had stopped kicking and there were times when she found herself wondering if it were dead.
She had an appointment at the hospital in two days’ time. Her bag was already packed, and they’d told her they might have to induce early. Luke had wanted to buy a cot and baby things, but Natasha had refused. She felt superstitious about making plans. It was still hard to believe she could ever be a mother. Some part of her felt she never would, that this thing was happening to someone else, another Natasha who inhabited the same body and was ready to step onto the stage of motherhood, while the real Natasha waited in the wings in disbelief. She was beginning to feel faint. Her blood sugar might have dropped but she wasn’t going to stop and check it now. She was probably just tired. The shooting pain ceased.
The car rolled on towards Holborn. Lights gleamed confusingly through the night air. London felt too big, too threatening. But she would be home soon. Luke would have waited up for her and they would fall into bed and snuggle up. She needed to be close to him. No sex these days, but that was fine. She was too enormous to enjoy it and Luke was always worried about the baby.
She turned into Gray’s Inn Road. It was quiet here at night. No clubs, few pubs, everything closed by eight p.m. But this was a special place and she loved it. It had been a struggle to get here. She had so nearly made it: the good degree, the tricky Bar exams, call to the Bar, the precious pupillage, clearing every hurdle but the last, the tenancy. As she thought about all she had nearly won, she pictured the woman who should have helped her but instead had stood in her way like a locked door, keeping her from everything she had fought for.
‘Forget it. Put it behind you,’ Luke had said. ‘You’re still a barrister; she can’t take that away. You’ll be great in the CPS, prosecuting criminals. Don’t say that isn’t important.’
It wasn’t the same. Who remembered the great prosecutors? And she was worried. There had been no action on the arrest but the CPS representative in court had noted down everything she said. She owned up to the caution because if it hadn’t come from her, Mel’s barrister would have raised it. But she had failed to mention it on her application. What if the job was taken from her?
The traffic was light now, and the rain was easing as she approached the river. She drove onto Blackfriars Bridge and headed south for Brixton.
Her phone was ringing. It would be Luke again, still fretting. But she couldn’t stop on the bridge and when she got to the other side there was no safe place to pull in. She’d forgotten to plug in the hands-free. He would have to wait. If he was going to sound off about her staying out late, she would rather hear it at home than in the car.
She was negotiating the enormous Elephant and Castle roundabout when the pain returned. Like period cramps, only worse. Not the stabbing pain they had warned her about, but tough, intense, lingering. Headlights were coming at her from all directions. She carried on driving, breathing deeply as she’d been taught. After a few seconds the pain subsided.
She wouldn’t ring Luke. Not unless it got too bad for her concentrate. But as she set off down Walworth Road it returned, rising and falling in waves. She carried on, speeding up a little, never mind the speed limit. Suddenly there was a cool wetness between her legs. The seat felt slippery and cold. She was already wet from the rain, but this was different. This was coming from inside her. Alone in the car she heard herself shouting, ‘Stop. Stop.’
She hardly knew how she reached Moorlands. It seemed that some benign force took her there. As she drove onto the estate, something twisted inside her, her guts were being wound around a corkscrew. What she had thought of as pain was nothing in comparison to this.
Their flat was in the first block. She managed to stop the car, opening the door and scrambling out, falling forward against the wing and the wet bonnet. It seemed she would die from this agony, and that she would welcome that sweet oblivion. Then as suddenly as it had arisen, it ceased and there was only exhaustion. She straightened, looked about her. The car park was empty, the rain had stopped, the black tarmac was shiny with puddles under the floodlights. A new puddle was forming beneath her, water still trickling down her thighs. Their block was a few steps away. She turned towards it and pressed the buzzer.
‘Haven’t you got a key?’ he called.
‘Help me,’ she cried into the intercom.
Chapter Forty-eight
Mel
‘I told her to go away,’ said Jacob.
He ran a hand through his hair which was greasy, needing a wash.
‘What did she want?’ asked Mel. She had been unable to stop him going to the door.
‘She’s angry. Says you got away with it. Plus, I reckon she wanted to see how I took it.’
Natasha had done her a favour. It was the opening she needed. ‘And how have you taken it?’
‘I’m really happy for you, Mum.’
She studied his tired face. Whatever he had done or not done in the past, whatever teenage lies he had offered her, she was convinced he now spoke the truth. There were a thousand Jacobs and she would never know them all. But she knew the son that mattered to her. Just as he knew the mother that mattered to him.
‘I’m sorry about all that stuff,’ she said.
‘Gran told me about the cat.’ He chuckled, opening the fridge for another beer. She sat over the single glass of wine she had been nursing all evening, wondering why she found it so hard to drink. Contrary to Georgie’s proposal, they had come straight home. There had been no champagne. Not tonight. There would be time for that.
‘I didn’t realise you were there. You weren’t there when I started in the witness box.’
‘I couldn’t face going to college. I just turned around on the way and got the tube to court. You were giving evidence, only the usher let me sneak in. So, like, you’d have said something different if you’d known I was there?’
‘Of course not.’
He stood looking at her as if waiting for her to speak and she said, ‘You did nothing wrong, Jacob.’
He shook his head. ‘I fucked up.’
‘I don’t think she’ll do anything with the photos. Not now her barrister has denied they exist.’
He sat down at the table and stared at his beer.
She said, ‘We should go to bed. You’ve got college in the morning.’
Still staring into his beer, he said, ‘You’re not seeing that Paul bloke again, are you?’ She wanted to say ‘no’, but the word took too long to come out and he carried on. ‘Only that, you’re too nice. Like, if he’s married to someone else, that sucks. I mean, like, I know it didn’t work with Dad but you’ll… Shit. I mean, if you want, when I go to university. If you want to get married again. I won’t mind.’