And Baby Makes Two

“I don’t think I’ll have any more,” I said.

The others all laughed.

“That’s what everybody says,” said Sam.

Sam was twenty-four. Next to me, she was the youngest.

She gave me a wink. “You’re just a beginner. I was about your age when I started. Trust me, you get used to it.”

“Wait till you’ve had as many as me,” said Ellen. “The only thing that scares me is where I’m going to put another one.”

Ellen and her husband had a two-bedroom house.

“My parents gave us the deposit as a wedding present,” said Ellen. “We’ve been there longer than you’ve been alive.”

Anne said, “That sounds like heaven to me. Me and Colin moved in with my mum when we got married, and we’re still there.”

“It’s awful living with your mother, isn’t it?” I said. I was feeling really happy now, lying there chatting with everyone like a real woman. Anne was right, I could hardly remember the pain. “Me and my boyfriend are going to get our own flat as soon as we can.”

“Lucky you,” said Anne. “The only way I’m likely to get away from my mum is if I kill her and they put me in prison.”

“Um… Solitary confinement…” said Ellen. “What wouldn’t I give…”

“We want something modern,” I said. “With a garden for the kids.” I’d only just thought of the garden, but I knew exactly what it looked like. It would have a pink Wendy house, just like the one I’d always wanted.

“We wanted a flat of our own,” said Anne. “But … well…” She made a face and shrugged. “You don’t always get what you want, do you?”

I started to say that you could get what you want as long as you didn’t give up, but they all shouted at once, “You get what you need!”

I didn’t know what they were on about, but I laughed along.

“It’s pretty much the same thing, though, isn’t it?” I asked when they’d finished shrieking.

Ellen winked. “Not always.”

It was like a scene from a movie: me and Hilary Spiggs, shoulder to elbow, staring down at the tiny infant in my arms. Her eyes were closed and she had her fists balled against her mouth. She had this wild punky hair and blotchy skin. There was something sort of froggy about her, but she was still really cute.

“Well, she doesn’t look like you,” said my mother. “She must take after her dad.”

This was a leading question. She thought that because I was weak and drowning in hormones I’d finally tell her who the father was. But of course I didn’t.

I said, “It’s incredible. She has little nails and everything.”

It really was incredible. I mean, I knew she’d have nails and eyebrows and stuff, but it was still pretty amazing that she did, when you saw them, and how tiny she was.

“What did you expect her to have?” asked my mother. “Claws and fangs?”

Leave it to Hilary Spiggs to ruin any good mood.

I sighed and ran a finger along one of the baby’s. It had little knuckles and lines and everything.

“You know what I mean. It’s like a magic trick.”

“The trick would be getting her to go back,” said cheery Nurse Hilary.

I rubbed the tiny knuckles. “I don’t want her to go back. I think she’s great.” Even though she wasn’t a boy.

I just hoped Les agreed. I’d sort of thought he’d secretly wanted a son. You know, because he’d never had a brother and his father had died when he was still at primary school. But she did look like him. This could help them bond.

Witch Woman straightened up.

“I told you Charlene can’t make it, didn’t I?”

I nodded. Charlene’s kids both had the flu.

“And Dara’s at that conference in Australia.”

My sister the international banker. I nodded again.

“But Charley’ll come as soon as he’s finished work.”

I wondered if Les already knew he had a daughter. You know, instinctively.

“That’s great.”

“So is there anything else you want me to bring when I come back?”

I rubbed some flaky skin from the baby’s eyebrow.

“Just my post.”

Anne came shuffling over to my bed with a box of chocolates her husband had brought her and her book of baby names. “Haven’t you chosen a name yet?”

I looked up from the list I was making. “No. I thought maybe I’d wait to see what she was like.”

She sat down on the edge of my bed with a groan. “I swear, the stitches are the worst part.” She picked up the pad that was beside me. “What’ve you got so far?”

“Nothing. The only name that really suits her is Banshee.” She cried so much that they were always taking her out of the ward so she didn’t set the others off.

Anne laughed, and Ellen, who was in the bed next to mine, joined in.

Anne flicked through her book. “What about Angelica…? Maia…? Winona…?”

I shook my head. No. No. No.

“What about Cheryl…? Or Amee…? Or Dana…?”

“They just don’t seem right.”

“Doesn’t her dad have any ideas?” asked Ellen.

I laughed. “You know men. He wants to name her after his mother.”

“And what’s that?” asked Anne.

How should I know? The only thing I’d ever heard Les call her was Mum.

“Mary,” I guessed.

“It’s a little old-fashioned…” said Anne.

“Is he coming tonight?” asked Ellen.

I said, “Who?”

“Your – the baby’s dad.”

I’d been hoping no one would notice that Les wasn’t around. I mean, they all had scads of visitors. Ellen’s husband came on his way to work, on his way home from work and after supper with the rest of the kids.

“No,” I said quickly. “No. He’s away. Working. In Manchester. He can’t get back till next week. But he phones me every day. You know, to make sure everything’s all right.”

“What a shame,” said Ellen. “I bet he was upset to miss his daughter’s birth.”

I nodded. But I didn’t want to keep on this subject for too long.

“I just know there’s a perfect name floating around somewhere in my mind,” I said thoughtfully. “From some film or a song…”

Anne passed the chocolates to Ellen.

“How about Laura?” tried Ellen. “That’s from a song.”

Not any song I knew.

“Renee,” suggested Anne. “That’s from a song, too.”

I didn’t know that one either.

The name situation was actually a little critical. I couldn’t get a birth certificate till she had a name. And if I didn’t get a birth certificate I would never get my Child Benefit. I was counting on my Child Benefit. Plus, my nan was making a special quilt for the baby. That’s what she did, my nan: make quilts. She started when she gave up smoking, so she’d have something to do, and she just kept going. She needed a name before she could finish the